Formula One X Reader - Blog Posts

I NEED THIS TO A LEVEL YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE

WOULD ANYONE BE INTERESTED IN A ALEXANDRA SAINT MLEUX X FEM READER??? IM DOWN BAD FOR HER AGAIN

Y/n Makes a JPG account

Summary: Where Y/n creates a .jpg account

y/n.jpg: Me taking a picture of Daniel taking a picture of Lando whose taking a picture of Daniel taking a picture of me

tagged: lando.jpg, daniel3.jpg

liked by: danielriccardo, landonorris, y/nswife, f1, and 540,683 others

view all 53,987 comments

f1fan99: Da fuc did I just read? 😭

landosfuturewife: @f1fan99: I had the exact respond lol 😂

formulariccardo: I just love how chaotic this trio is 🥰

drivetosurvive.net: The queen had made a JPG account 🧎🏾‍♀️ 🥵

Y/n.jpg: @Drivetosurvive.net You already know I had to jump on the band wagon 😏

danielriccardo: even from the back im good looking 😍

y/n.jpg: @danielriccardo did anyone else vomit in their mouth? 🤢

y/n.jpg: Hey Siri, play Smooth Operator by Sade

tagged: carlossainz55

liked by: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 390,747 others

view all 29,210 comments

carlossainz55: I will never get away from this song 😞

y/n.jpg: @carlossainz55: never *evil laugh*

smoothoperatxr55: I'm living for these behind the scenes post 😫

f1bydayeditorbynight: Mother has blessed us with another post ❤️

lewishamilton: okay y/n I see you getting better at photography 👏🏾

y/n.jpg: @lewishamilton: why thank you sir hamilton 🙇🏾‍♀️

leclercland22: omg my bf looks so good!!!

y/n.jpg: that one time I got drunk after placing p2 in Monaco 😝

tagged: pierregasly

liked by: lewishamilton, danielriccardo, pierregasly and 1,457,901 others

view all 156,893 comments

@lewishamilton: I shed a tear that day 🥲

y/n.jpg: @lewishamilton: you'll be shedding many more once I beat you 😁

@ouiouibaguette: what was Pierre doing on the bed? 👀

@pierregasly: a night i'll never forget 😌

y/n.jpg: @pierregasly: funny cause I did 🤷🏾‍♀️

@y/nismylife: is she cheating on me with the frenchmen????

f14life: @y/nismylife: Like you ever had a chance 😂

theonionlord: I love how y/n straight up friend zoned Pierre 😭

Being the "It Girl" of F1 Headcon

Summary: For some reason, I can't stop thinking about how a female F1 driver would be the "it girl" in f1 and just in general.

-Y/n was a rising star in the world of Formula 1 racing. As a female driver in a male-dominated sport, she faced many challenges, but she refused to let anything stand in her way.

-Y/n was not only an incredible driver, but she was also the "it girl" of the racing world. She had a fashion sense that was envied by everyone, and her social media following was off the charts.

-Y/n used her popularity to promote a message of positivity and female empowerment. She often spoke out about the importance of gender equality in sports, and she used her platform to inspire young girls who aspired to be racecar drivers.

-But Y/n was more than just a pretty face and a social media star. She was a fierce competitor on the track, and she had a driving style that was both aggressive and strategic.

-During one race, Y/n found herself in a tight spot. She was in second place, but she was quickly losing ground to the leader. In a bold move, Y/n pushed her car to the limit, overtaking the leader with a daring maneuver that left the crowd gasping.

-As Y/n crossed the finish line, the crowd erupted in cheers. She had not only won the race, but she had also cemented her place as one of the most exciting drivers in the sport.

-From that moment on, Y/n became a legend in the world of Formula 1 racing. She continued to be the "it girl" of the racing world, but she never lost sight of her true passion: driving fast and pushing herself to be the best.

One year of coloured lights | CS55

+18/MDNI

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader.

Genre: Fluff.

Rating: Teen.

Word count: 1517.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, use of Y/N.

Author's note: Hello! This is my first published one shot in here. I'm a writer in my free time, and I finally decided to publish here. I hope you like it. Also, English is my third language, sorry for any mistakes.

A simple Thursday night changed my life, making it turn upside-down when I least expected it. I don't know if it was the hour, the weather or the music in the background when everything happened, but my life shifted completely.

I was out with some friends when I felt a pair of eyes on me that followed my every move and conversation that I was having. They felt extremely close but far enough that I wouldn't catch them every time I turned around. Shivers were continuously running down my spine but they weren't unpleasant. I didn't know who was watching me until one time I caught a pair of dark brown eyes shining brightly under the coloured lights of the venue. I forced my eyes to focus on the face that those eyes adorned, noticing a pair of full lips that hid a beautiful smile that shone bright when I caught him staring at me.

I turned around with a soft smile on my face and a faint blush covering my cheeks, continuing my conversation with my friends. I danced through a few songs, still feeling his eyes on me, but I tried not to turn and look at him. That was until one of my friends noticed something was making me nervous and a smile was permanently on my face. She looked around and found the eyes that were looking at me.

"You know that you have an admirer?" my friend asked with a teasing smirk.

"Yeah," I answered with a shy smile. "He's quite attractive."

"You should go and say something to him," she added as she made me turn around, making me look at him directly.

I looked back and saw how my friend encouraged me, so I continued walking until I reached the bar where he was standing. I stood a few meters apart from him, calling the bartender to grab another drink, and I caught his eyes a few times. I smiled at him as I grabbed my drink, rummaging through my bag to grab my phone to pay but I stopped when I saw a hand holding a card and paying for my drink.

With my eyes, I followed the hand up and I found that beautiful pair of dark brown eyes that were observing me before. I smiled at him and I extended my hand to greet him, but he surprised me when he grabbed it and left a soft kiss on the back, a soft blush dusting over my cheeks.

"Thanks," I said with a soft smile. "My name is Y/N."

"Carlos," he said with a Spanish accent. "It's nothing," he added with a bright smile.

"I think that I caught you staring at me a few times," I said, moving closer so he could hear me over the music.

"Yeah," he said with confidence. "You looked beautiful, but I can say that you're more beautiful up close," he added, leaning to whisper it in my ear, making me blush a deep shade of red that wasn't visible under the coloured lights.

I locked eyes with him and I saw a bit of mischief in them. In that moment, I felt his arm sneak around my waist, pulling me closer and making me gasp in surprise, and I ended up resting my hand on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart and making me smile.

"Care to dance?" he asked with a soft smirk.

I couldn't utter a word and I just nodded, letting him lead me to the centre of the dance floor. He grabbed my hand and made me twirl, putting me against his chest and hugging my waist, moving our bodies to the rhythm of the music.

"Are you having fun?" he whispered when he leaned his face against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"Yeah," I said moving my head a little, realising that we were closer than I expected.

After a few songs, we moved to the bar again and I saw my friend approaching us. She told me that they were going home and asked me if I wanted to go with them. When I said no, Carlos assured her that he would take me home safely, making my friend relax, and we said our goodbyes.

"You don't have to do that," I said to him with a smile.

"I know but I want to," he responded, his answer making me lock eyes with him.

"Want to dance again?" I asked him as I grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to me.

He nodded with a soft smile, letting me drag him back to the dance floor. I let go of his hand and I twirled, shaking my hair with my hands. I ended up facing him and I put my arms around his neck, moving my hips to the rhythm of the music. He smiled, looking down at me and grabbing my hips, dancing with me and changing the rhythm when the music changed to a slow song. When the song finished, he moved closer until he rested his forehead on my shoulder.

"Want to get out of here?" he whispered in my ear, making a shiver run down my spine.

"Yes, but only if you take me home," I whispered back as I put one hand on his chest and the other went to touch his soft hair.

He pulled away and grabbed my hand, guiding me to the backdoor where he had his car parked. The ride to my apartment was engulfed in a comfortable silence, with stolen glances and his hand resting on my thigh while he drove. After a while, he stopped the car in front of my apartment complex and I turned to look at him.

"Thank you for bringing me home, Carlos," I said softly with a smile that he mirrored.

"It's nothing, Y/N," he said as I grabbed the door handle to get out of his car, when he suddenly grabbed my wrist, making me stop in my tracks. "Wait."

"Wha-" he stopped me mid-sentence with a soft kiss, that I immediately followed, sighing against his mouth.

We pulled apart, me blushing and him smirking, and tried to catch our breaths. I let out a nervous giggle and I moved slightly forward, resting my head on his shoulder while he put one hand on my back.

"That was incredible," I said, still out of breath and with a smile lingering on my face.

"Yeah," he said as he moved his head slightly to kiss the side of my head. "I want to see you again on a more relaxed place," he blurted out after a moment of silence.

"Are you asking me on a date?" I asked teasingly as I straightened my posture.

"Maybe..." he said, blushing a bit. "Only if you want to," he added, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

"Then it's a date," I said with a smile. "Here's my number," I added as I put a business card on his hand.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said as I opened the door of his car.

"I hope so," I responded with a smile as I got out of his car. "Thanks again, Carlos. And good night," I said before I closed the door of his car.

"Good night Y/N," he said from his car after he rolled his window down.

I walked towards the entrance of the complex and I turned around before I entered, seeing that he was waiting for me to get inside and waved at me before starting his car and disappearing into the night.

That was a year ago, the night I met Carlos Sainz and he entered into my life, putting it upside down. I wouldn't change anything that happened during this year, not when I get to wake up with his arm around my waist after a date night.

That's our current situation, where I'm feeling his breath against the back of my neck before I turn in his embrace to face him. I use this peaceful moment to count his freckles, thing that I do at every occasion I have, before he wakes up.

"Good morning, princesa," he says suddenly, his voice laced with sleep.

"Good morning, love," I say as I nuzzle against his chest, leaving a kiss there at the same time he kisses my temple.

"Do you want pancakes for breakfast?" he asks with a smile as he starts caressing my hips.

"Yes, please," I answer, looking up with a pout that he kisses before pulling away from me to get up, leaving me laying on the bed as I observe how he puts on some shorts before going to the kitchen.

I let out a soft sigh, feeling content and relaxed, before I get up and follow him, not before grabbing his shirt from the night before and my panties. I sit down on the kitchen bar, seeing him move around the kitchen, humming softly and throwing a wink when he sees me. I smile at him, feeling lucky to have him in my life.

This is a piece of art. I'm almost crying and I'm in class, so I can't. It's perfect and now I need a part 2 to see how he suffers when he realises that she's not his and it's never coming back. I don't care if she's with Oscar or not, I just need to hug her and see that she's happy. Thank you for your amazing writing and for the time spent creating this beautiful thing. 💖💖❤️❤️

HEAR ME (PURPLE LACED BRA) | LN4

an: i've been dying to post something to this so i'm glad i finally have something written - hope you guys enjoy it! go listen to so close to what!!

wc: 4.6k

THE MUSIC WAS DEAFENING, the bass shaking the floor beneath her heels, but she barely heard it. She stood at the edge of the VIP section, half-watching the celebration unfold in front of her. The club was packed—champagne bottles with sparklers, models draped over the backs of velvet sofas, cameras flashing every few seconds. And at the centre of it all was Lando.

He was grinning, drink in hand, surrounded by his team and a few celebrities she half-recognised. Another win. Another podium. Another reason for the world to love him. And they did—God, they did. Everyone wanted a piece of him.

She used to feel lucky just to stand beside him. Now, she wasn’t sure if she even existed in his world at all.

A hand brushed against the small of her back. She startled, turning to see Lando looking down at her with that easy, practised smirk—the one that melted screens and made headlines.

“Where’ve you disappeared to?” he asked, pulling her into his side. His hand rested low on her waist, fingers playing at the hem of her dress. He didn’t wait for an answer before leaning down, his lips grazing her ear. “Come on, don’t do that thing where you get all quiet on me.”

Her jaw clenched. He said it like it was a mood she put on, like she was being difficult. But what was the point of speaking when he never heard her?

So she did what she always did. She tilted her head, plastered on a smile, let him pull her closer. He liked her like this—silent, beautiful, easy.

A photographer stepped forward, camera ready. Lando straightened, his grip tightening just slightly, and just like that, she knew her role. She shifted towards him, leant into the picture, let them capture exactly what they wanted: The driver and his perfect girl.

But she was starting to wonder if that was all she would ever be.

The camera flash flickered, catching the sharp angles of Lando’s jaw, the gleam of his watch, the perfect way her body fit against his. The photographer gave him a nod of approval before turning away, already chasing after someone else worth capturing.

Lando exhaled through his nose, his grip on her easing now that the moment had passed. “See?” he murmured, pressing a kiss against her temple. “Was that so hard?”

Her smile didn’t waver. It never did. But something in her chest twisted so tightly she almost felt breathless.

He turned back to his conversation, already lost in some animated discussion about the race, his hands moving as he recounted the final laps. She knew the words before they left his mouth—the same adrenaline-fuelled debrief he gave after every win. The late braking, the perfect strategy call, the rivals he left in his dust.

He was electric when he spoke about racing. It was the only time she ever saw him truly alive.

She used to love watching him like this. Now, she just felt like a shadow beside him.

Her fingers skimmed the rim of her untouched drink as she scanned the room. Everywhere she looked, people were watching him. Not her. Never her. She could disappear right now and no one would notice.

Well—almost no one.

Lando’s teammates, Oscar, was watching her from across the table. He had that knowing look in his eye, the one that made her stomach twist. He always seemed to see things, things she wasn’t ready to admit.

She turned away before he could say anything.

“I’m going to the loo,” she said quietly, but Lando didn’t even glance at her. He just gave a distracted nod, still deep in conversation.

Of course.

She stepped away, weaving through the throng of people, their laughter and shouting merging into white noise. The ladies’ toilets were tucked behind a velvet curtain, far enough from the chaos that the music was just a dull thud in the walls. She pushed open the door and exhaled, gripping the edge of the sink as she stared at herself in the mirror.

She looked exactly how she was supposed to. The perfect dress, the flawless makeup, the effortless kind of beauty that people expected from the girlfriend of a star.

But looking perfect had never felt so exhausting.

The door swung open behind her, and she braced herself, half-expecting one of the other WAGs to stroll in. Instead, it was Oscar.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. “You alright?”

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “That’s a stupid question.”

“Maybe.” His gaze didn’t waver. “But I think you should hear yourself answer it.”

Her throat tightened.

Because the truth was, she wasn’t alright. And she was starting to think she never had been.

She turned back to the mirror, gripping the porcelain edge of the sink as if it could steady her. Behind her, Oscar hadn’t moved. He wasn’t pushing her to answer, but his silence said enough.

“I’m fine,” she said, forcing the words out smoothly. Too smoothly.

Oscar huffed a quiet breath, tilting his head slightly. “That’s not the answer I was hoping for.”

She met his gaze in the mirror, and for a second, something flickered in her chest—something that made her want to fold, to speak, to say all the things she’d been swallowing down for too long.

But what was the point? She could scream at the top of her lungs, and Lando still wouldn’t hear her.

She turned away, brushing past Oscar as she pulled open the door. “I should get back.”

“Should you?” His voice was quiet but steady.

She paused.

Oscar sighed, shifting his weight. “Look, I know it’s not my business, but I see the way he looks at you. And I see the way you look when he’s not.”

Her breath hitched slightly. She hated that he noticed. She hated that someone had caught onto the thing she’d spent months trying to ignore.

Still, she forced a light laugh, giving him an amused glance over her shoulder. “You analysing me now?”

His lips twitched. “You could say that. You know, body positioning determines whether or not someone’s actually listening.”

The words sent a sharp pang through her chest.

Because Lando never did listen. She could whisper in his ear, touch him, scream until her throat was raw—but the only time he truly paid attention was when she was undressing, when she was playing the role he wanted her to. And maybe she’d accepted that for a while, maybe she’d let herself believe that was just part of loving someone like him.

But now… now it felt suffocating.

Her phone buzzed.

Lando: Where’d you go? Come back.

No “Are you okay?” No “Do you need me?” Just come back. Like she was a misplaced watch or a forgotten drink.

She swallowed the bitter lump in her throat, forcing another easy smile as she tucked her phone away. “I should go.”

Oscar didn’t stop her. He just nodded, but the look in his eyes stayed with her as she slipped back into the club, where Lando was waiting.

Waiting for her.

Not her thoughts, not her words, not the things that made her her. Just her body, her presence, her silence.

And she was starting to wonder if that was all she’d ever be to him.

The night dragged on. More drinks, more cameras, more mindless conversations she wasn’t part of. She stayed close to Lando, playing the role as she always did, but she felt herself slipping further and further away.

By the time he decided they were leaving, she felt like a ghost in her own body.

As Lando shook hands and exchanged goodbyes with the people that mattered, she glanced towards the bar, her eyes catching on Oscar.

He was already looking at her. His expression was unreadable, but there was something steady in his gaze—something that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t in a long time.

Before she could stop herself, she gave him a small, tired smile.

Oscar didn’t smile back, but the way his jaw clenched slightly told her enough.

Lando’s hand landed on her hip, pulling her back into focus. “Come on,” he murmured, already leading her towards the exit, towards his car, towards another night of being exactly what he wanted.

The drive back to the hotel was quiet, the hum of the McLaren filling the silence between them. Lando was relaxed, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily on her bare thigh.

She stared out the window, watching the city blur past, her thoughts tangled.

Would he hear me more if I whispered? If I touched him the way he wanted? If I played this part forever?

Would he ever hear me?

She barely realised they’d arrived until the car pulled smoothly into the hotel’s private entrance. The valet opened her door, and she stepped out into the warm night air, still feeling that lingering touch on her skin.

The lift ride was just as silent. Lando didn’t notice—he was scrolling through his phone, probably checking messages, reading about his win, soaking in the world’s praise.

She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself.

The moment they stepped into their suite, the tension shifted.

Before she could even take a breath, Lando’s hands were on her, spinning her towards him.

She barely had time to react before he had her pressed against the wall, his body firm against hers, his lips brushing against her neck. “You’ve been quiet tonight,” he murmured against her skin.

She swallowed, her hands coming up to his chest, pushing lightly. “I’m tired.”

Lando barely hesitated. “Come on,” he murmured, his lips trailing down her jaw, his hands sliding over her hips. “Don’t do that.”

That.

That meaning the exhaustion in her voice. That meaning the part of her that wanted something more than this.

“I’m not in the mood, Lando.” Her voice was firmer this time.

He let out a sharp exhale, pulling back just enough to look at her properly. His dark eyes scanned her face, and for a second, she thought—hoped—that maybe he’d see something. Maybe he’d hear something.

But then he just scoffed. “You’re always bloody tired these days.”

And just like that, she knew.

There was no concern in his voice. No question of what was wrong. No care for why she felt like this, for why she had been drifting further and further from him. Just frustration. Just disappointment that she wasn’t giving him what he wanted.

She forced herself to hold his gaze, even as something inside her cracked wide open. “I think I’m going to take a bath.”

Lando studied her for a moment longer, then ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated. “Yeah, whatever.”

And then—just like that—he turned and walked out of the suite, the door clicking shut behind him.

She stood there, frozen.

Not surprised. Not angry.

Just… empty.

And that was the worst part.

She moved through the next couple of hours on autopilot.

She took off her makeup, wiped away the remnants of the night. She ran a bath but barely stayed in it long enough for the heat to sink into her skin. She changed into one of Lando’s oversized shirts, something she always did before bed—more out of habit than comfort now.

And then she sat.

Just sat on the edge of their bed, staring at nothing, the dim glow of the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Her body ached with exhaustion, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. The weight in her chest pressed heavier and heavier until it finally cracked, and before she even realised it, tears spilled over her cheeks.

She sucked in a shaky breath, trying to blink them away. What the hell is wrong with me?

It wasn’t like this was new. Lando had always been like this. She had always been an accessory to him, something to be looked at, shown off, touched when it suited him.

But tonight felt different.

Tonight, she had said no. And he had walked away like she was nothing more than an inconvenience.

A quiet sob broke from her throat, and she buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking.

She didn’t even hear the door open at first.

It wasn’t until she caught the heavy thud of something hitting the sofa that she jolted upright, quickly wiping at her tear-streaked face. Her heart pounded as she turned towards the noise, her breath catching in her throat.

Lando was slumped on the suite’s sofa, looking barely conscious. And standing over him, an arm still half-draped around his shoulders, was Oscar.

Her stomach twisted. “What—?”

Oscar let out a breath, straightening up and shaking his head. “Your boyfriend’s had one too many.”

Her eyes flickered back to Lando. His head lolled against the cushion, his shirt slightly rumpled, his hair a mess. He was clearly out of it.

She swallowed, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Where did you find him?”

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, looking both exasperated and unimpressed. “Slumped in the back of the club, surrounded by people who were more interested in snapping pictures of him than making sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit.” His gaze flicked to hers. “Figured you might want to know.”

Her chest tightened.

Of course. Of course this was how he handled things—getting wasted, drowning himself in attention that didn’t require him to actually feel anything. It was easier than facing his own reflection.

Or maybe… it was easier than facing her.

She let out a slow breath, rubbing at her temple. “Thanks for bringing him back.”

Oscar nodded but didn’t move. He was watching her carefully, like he could still see too much.

Like maybe, just maybe, he knew she had been sitting here crying before he walked in.

Her hands curled into fists in her lap. “You don’t have to stay.”

Oscar hesitated for half a second before his jaw tightened, and he gave a small, reluctant nod. “Alright.”

But as he moved towards the door, he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “You know… if you ever get tired of this,” he gestured vaguely to Lando’s slumped form, “you don’t have to stay.”

Her throat closed up.

Oscar didn’t wait for an answer. He just slipped out the door, leaving her alone with the man who was supposed to love her.

But as she sat there, staring at Lando—passed out, blissfully unaware—she realised something.

She had never felt lonelier in her life.

She sat down on the floor beside the sofa, pulling her knees up to her chest. The carpet was soft beneath her, but everything else felt unbearably sharp.

Her gaze flickered over Lando’s face—the strong jawline, the perfect cheekbones, the dark lashes that cast faint shadows against his skin. He looked almost peaceful like this, lost in whatever drunken haze he had drowned himself in.

Her chest ached as she reached out, fingers threading gently through his hair. It was soft beneath her touch, familiar in a way that made her heart hurt even more.

A quiet sob broke from her lips as she whispered, “Why wasn’t I enough?”

She had loved him so fiercely. She had stood by him, supported him, adored him. She had been everything he wanted her to be—poised, beautiful, silent when it mattered.

And yet, as she sat there, her tears slipping onto the fabric of his shirt, she finally understood.

She had fallen in love with him. But he had only ever fallen in love with her body.

Her hands curled into fists in his shirt as a quiet, broken sound left her throat. She had spent so long trying to be heard, to be seen, but the truth was devastatingly simple. Lando had never wanted to know her. He had never cared about her thoughts, her fears, her soul.

Only how she looked standing beside him. Only how she felt beneath him.

A shaky breath shuddered through her as she slowly pulled back.

Her gaze landed on his phone, lying loosely in his hand.

For a long moment, she just stared at it.

Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she carefully pried it from his grip. He didn’t stir. She tilted it towards his face, and with a soft sound, the lock screen vanished.

Her heart pounded as she pulled up his messages, ready to text Oscar.

But she never got that far.

Because the moment she opened his messages, her stomach dropped.

Hundreds.

Hundreds of messages.

All from different girls.

Some were old, buried beneath months of conversations. Others were recent. Some from tonight.

Her breath caught in her throat as she scrolled. He hadn’t even bothered to be subtle. Flirty messages, suggestive photos, hotel room numbers exchanged without hesitation.

Like it was nothing.

Like she was nothing.

A sharp, painful lump formed in her throat, but no more tears came. Maybe because there was nothing left to grieve.

Because the man she thought she loved?

He had never existed.

Her hands shook slightly as she backed out of the messages and pulled up his texts. She typed quickly, her fingers moving without hesitation.

Lando: What’s your room number?

The reply came almost instantly.

Oscar: Why?

She swallowed hard, staring at the screen. Then, without another thought, she typed back.

Lando: Please. Just tell me.

There was a long pause. Then—

Oscar: 2209.

She exhaled slowly, then locked the phone and set it back beside Lando.

For the first time in a long, long time, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

And for the first time—she wasn’t going to ask for permission.

She didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t stop to second-guess herself.

For so long, she had been trapped in this cycle—ignoring the things she didn’t want to see, pretending everything was fine. But now? The truth had cracked open in front of her, and there was no going back.

She stood up, wiping at her face, even though no more tears had fallen. Her body felt strangely light, like the weight pressing down on her for months had finally started to lift.

But she wasn’t free yet.

She grabbed a bag from the wardrobe, moving quickly, shoving in the essentials—her passport, her wallet, a few clothes. Enough to get her away from here, away from him.

She hesitated when she reached for one of Lando’s oversized shirts—the one she was still wearing. Then, with a bitter exhale, she pulled it off, yanking on a cropped tank top and a pair of shorts instead.

This wasn’t his to keep anymore.

Without a second glance, she slung the bag over her shoulder and walked out of the suite, her pulse hammering as she stepped into the empty hallway.

She didn’t look back.

The corridor outside 2209 was quiet.

Her hands felt clammy as she knocked once. A part of her expected Oscar to ignore it, to assume it was Lando being drunk and annoying.

But after a moment, the door cracked open, and Oscar stood there, his brows pulling together the second he saw her.

“What the hell—?”

“I—” Her voice wavered, and suddenly, everything hit her all at once. The weight of the last few hours. The betrayal. The realisation that the man she had given her heart to had never truly wanted it in the first place.

She dropped her gaze, blinking hard. “I can’t—I can’t stay there.”

Oscar was silent for a beat. Then, without another word, he stepped aside, pulling the door open wider.

She hesitated, guilt twisting in her stomach. “I—I’ll book my own room. I just—needed to get out.”

Oscar’s jaw tensed, his eyes scanning her face. “You’re not booking a hotel at—” he glanced at the clock on the bedside table, “—two in the bloody morning.”

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet huff. “For fuck’s sake, just—get in.”

Her throat closed up, but she nodded, stepping inside as he shut the door behind her.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows. She stood there for a moment, unsure what to do with herself. The adrenaline that had carried her here was wearing off, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion and heartbreak.

She felt Oscar watching her.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” His voice was steady. Not pushing, not demanding. Just there.

That was what undid her.

Because when was the last time anyone had asked her how she felt? When was the last time someone had wanted to hear what she had to say—without conditions, without expectations?

Her shoulders shook as she sucked in a breath, her hand coming up to cover her face.

And then she broke.

A strangled sob ripped from her throat as she sank onto the edge of the bed, the tears she had been holding back finally crashing over her.

Oscar didn’t say anything.

He just moved.

She barely registered it at first—the dip of the mattress beside her, the way his arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest.

For a moment, she stiffened. She wasn’t used to this—to comfort without expectation. But Oscar just held her, warm and solid, one hand rubbing slow circles on her back.

She sobbed harder.

“He never loved me,” she whispered through the tears, her fingers curling into his t-shirt. “I—I thought he did, but he just—he just loved the way I looked. The way I made him look.”

Oscar’s grip on her tightened. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice lower now, almost dangerous. “I know.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. “I was so stupid.”

Oscar exhaled sharply. “You weren’t stupid.”

She let out a hollow laugh. “Then what was I?”

Oscar was quiet for a long time. Then—

“You were in love.”

Her chest tightened painfully.

And maybe that was the worst part.

Because she still was.

Oscar didn’t pull away. He just kept holding her, letting her cry against him. His hands were steady on her back, his touch warm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel like she was carrying the weight of the world on her own shoulders.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, voice muffled in his shirt, her tears soaking into the fabric. “I thought… I thought I could fix it. But I don’t even know who he is anymore. Or who I am to him.”

Oscar’s hand smoothed through her hair, the motion gentle. “You don’t have to fix anything, alright?” he said softly, his voice low and comforting. “You don’t owe him anything. You only owe yourself the truth.”

She nodded weakly, though it felt like a hundred-pound weight was sitting on her chest.

He let her cry for as long as she needed, and when the sobs finally slowed, he shifted slightly, coaxing her to lie down.

“Let me get you into bed,” he murmured.

She wanted to protest, but she was too tired—physically and emotionally—so she allowed him to help her, shifting her legs as he gently guided her onto the mattress. Oscar tucked the blanket around her and, for a moment, just stood there, looking down at her.

Her eyelids were heavy, but she managed to lift her head slightly to meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft, barely a whisper.

Oscar gave her a small smile, but there was no mockery, no playfulness in it—just something real. “Get some sleep. I’m right here.”

She didn’t have the strength to say anything else. Her eyes fluttered shut, and before she knew it, the exhaustion of the day caught up with her.

When she woke up, the room was bathed in the soft morning light. She blinked a few times, groggy, trying to remember where she was, what had happened.

Then the events of the night came flooding back, and her chest squeezed with pain.

But as she stirred beneath the covers, she realised the weight on her was gone. There was no harshness, no cold emptiness pressing in on her. Instead, she smelled something familiar. Something warm.

She turned her head, and there, sitting at the desk, was Oscar.

He was holding a tray with a simple breakfast—croissants, fruit, and coffee. “Morning,” he said with a small smile, looking up from the screen of his phone.

Her stomach grumbled, and she smiled weakly, appreciating the gesture more than she could express. “I didn’t expect this,” she murmured, sitting up slowly.

Oscar grinned, though there was something soft in his eyes. “Well, you’ve had a rough night, haven’t you? Figured you could use something other than room service for a change.”

She nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel completely alone.

After a few moments of eating in silence, she reached for her phone. The screen lit up with a message notification—nothing from Lando.

Her heart skipped, but she told herself not to feel disappointed.

She unlocked her phone and opened Instagram, the app taking a moment to load. She tapped through her feed absentmindedly, but her thumb froze as her eyes landed on a photo—Lando, in his usual athletic wear, standing on a padel court, laughing with some other drivers.

He hadn’t noticed.

She stared at the photo for a long, long time.

He hadn’t even thought to message her.

There it was again. That crushing, suffocating truth.

She had spent the entire night worrying about him, about why he hadn’t cared, about why he had left her feeling like this.

And there he was, looking perfectly fine. Having fun. Living his life without a single care in the world about what she had gone through.

Her breath hitched, and she set her phone down, her hands trembling.

It hit her all over again—the truth that Lando had never cared about her in the way she had hoped. He never would.

The realisation was sharp and brutal. And this time, it didn’t feel like the first time she had felt heartbroken—it felt like the first time she had truly woken up.

She looked up at Oscar, her breath still shaky. He was watching her, waiting for something.

“Lando’s out there,” she whispered, her voice a little too quiet, too small. “He’s out there, laughing, living his life, like nothing happened.”

Oscar nodded, but his expression wasn’t pitying. It wasn’t anything like the way Lando would have looked at her in that moment. “Yeah. He is.”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

Oscar’s gaze softened, and he set the breakfast tray down beside her. He sat next to her on the bed, his hand brushing hers. “You don’t have to figure it out right now.”

She met his eyes, and this time, there was a calmness inside her—a stillness, like she was beginning to see herself for the first time in forever.

“I’m not going to let you stay in that toxic shit,” Oscar said, his voice steady. “You’ve already put up with it for too long. But if you need time, I’m here.”

She didn’t have the words to express what she was feeling, but for once, she didn’t need to.

“Thank you,” she whispered again, the words feeling like the most sincere thing she’d said in a long time.

And in that moment, as she sat beside Oscar, she realised—maybe she could finally let go. Maybe it wasn’t about fixing things with Lando. Maybe it was about fixing herself.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @driverlando

An absolute masterpiece 🔥🔥

A Naughty Gift | D. Ricciardo

Merry Smutmas - Day 6: Secret Santa

warnings: 18+ content, use of vibrator, fingering, best friend!danny

— missed day 5? Read it here by @emchante

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The living room radiates warmth, the soft glow of string lights reflecting off ornaments carefully hung on the Christmas tree. A steady, crackling fire in the fireplace adds to the cozy atmosphere, its warmth mingling with the scent of pine and spiced mulled wine. The chatter of your closest friends fills the air, their laughter blending seamlessly with the holiday playlist humming softly in the background. 

The room is alive with anticipation. You’re seated on the couch, a glass of wine in your hand, your legs curled comfortably beneath you. Around you, your friends settle in—some on couches, others sprawled on the floor with mugs of hot cocoa or cider in hand. The Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, its base surrounded by an array of colourfully wrapped gifts, each tagged with a name. 

Tonight is the long-awaited secret Santa exchange, a tradition that never fails to bring laughter, surprises, and a few inside jokes to your closest group of friends. Two weeks ago, you all had drawn names from a bowl, each person tasked with finding the perfect gift for their chosen recipient. The mystery of who picked whom has been the topic of countless teasing conversations since, and now, the moment has finally arrived. 

You’re excited to see your friend’s reaction when they open the gift you picked out for them—an item you’d put serious thought into, sure they’d love. But there’s also a nervous energy bubbling beneath your excitement. You have no idea who drew your name from the bowl, and your mind has been running through possibilities all week. Will it be something heartfelt? Funny? Maybe even a little ridiculous? Only time will tell. 

One by one, the gifts are claimed and brought back to their recipients. Each present earns its own reaction—gasps of surprise, peals of laughter, or appreciative murmurs.

The stack beneath the tree shrinks as the night goes on, and the anticipation builds. Finally, it’s your turn. Your heart skips a beat when one of your friends plucks a medium-sized gift from the dwindling pile and passes it to you. The wrapping paper is festive but slightly crooked, as if the effort was rushed or the wrapper wasn’t skilled—it’s impossible to tell which. You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head at the uneven bow perched on top. 

Balancing the gift on your lap, you spot the tag attached to the ribbon. Beneath your name is a handwritten message in bold, playful script:

For when you need to unwind :) 

Your eyebrows furrow in curiosity. “I’m almost afraid to open this,” you mutter, pulling at the ribbon. 

With careful fingers, you peel back the wrapping paper, the brightly colored patterns giving way to a glossy white box underneath. The moment the text and images on the packaging come into focus, your breath catches in your throat.

Your gasp is audible—and immediate.

Nestled inside is a vibrator, sleek and modern, its packaging professional and uncomfortably clear about its intended use. Your mouth falls open in shock, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the box, your mind blank.

The room explodes into laughter, your friends practically doubling over as they take in your reaction. You blush furiously, scrambling to pull pieces of the discarded wrapping paper back over the box as if that might somehow undo what just happened. But despite your embarrassment, a laugh escapes your lips, shaky and incredulous.

“Seriously?” you managed, your voice slightly higher than usual as you hold up the box—stil half-covered in the wrapping—for emphasis.

“That’s the next best option if you’re not getting laid!” one of your friends teased, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, burying your face in your hands for a moment before peeking back out at the chaos around you. 

The laughter continues, the jokes coming in waves. 

“Looks like someone’s trying to do you a favour!”

“Now you have no excuse to be cranky.”

You can’t help but laugh along with them, even as your cheeks burn. This wasn’t entirely unexpected; for months, your friends had made a running joke about your supposed sexual frustration. Anytime you were stressed or snappy, the solution was always the same: “You just need to get laid!”

Still, you never imagined getting such a gift from a secret Santa. 

Once the initial uproar dies down, you look around the room, trying to pinpoint who might have been bold enough to give you such an obscene gift. Your friends are still chuckling, tossing jokes back and forth, but as your gaze sweeps over the group, it lands on Daniel, seated across from you. 

Unlike everyone else, he isn’t laughing. His lips curve into a smirk, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement as he watches you, unbothered by the chaos around him.

Your eyes narrow, suspicion flaring. “Daniel,” you say, your voice sharp enough to cut through the lingering laughter.

The room falls silent, everyone turning to look at him. His smirk deepens, and he leans back casually in his chair, his posture oozing confidence.

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence. “I thought you could use something to help you… loosen up a little.”

The room erupts again, louder this time, your friends practically collapsing into each other at the sheer boldness of his comment. You groan, shaking your head, but there’s no hiding the amused smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, your voice laced with exasperation.

“Unbelievable or thoughtful?” he counters, his tone dripping with mock sincerity.

“You know, I should be offended,” you reply, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Are you?” comes his immediate response. 

“Still debating it,” you mutter, unable to stop the small chuckle that escapes.

The focus soon shifts as another gift is unwrapped, the group’s attention moving on, but your gaze keeps wandering back to Daniel. The box lies heavy in your lap, the weight of it grounding you in more ways than one.

It’s just a gag gift, you tell yourself, a harmless joke meant to get a laugh out of you. But your mind can’t help but circle back to him. Of all the things he could have picked, why this? And, more importantly, had he thought of you—truly thought of you—when he chose it? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, one you quickly dismiss with a shake of your head.

Needing a distraction, you rise to refill your glass of wine, letting the chatter of your friends fade into the background as you retreat to the kitchen. You’re pouring a generous amount when you hear the soft creak of footsteps behind you.

“You might need more wine than that if you’re trying to forget about my gift,” Daniel’s voice drawled, the teasing tone unmistakable.

You glance over your shoulder to find him leaning casually against the doorframe, his posture relaxed but his eyes watching you intently.

“I’m not trying to forget it,” you say, turning back to your glass. You lift it to your lips, letting the liquid warm you before continuing. “Just need a little liquid courage.”

“To use it?” he asks as he steps closer, his tone light but laced with insinuation.

You turn fully to face him, narrowing your eyes. “Who says I’m going to use it?”

“It’d be a shame if you didn’t,” he replied smoothly, his smirk deepening.

Your heart skips a beat at his audacity, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt, “do you want me to use it?”

His smirk falters for half a second, replaced by something darker, something unreadable. “You’re always so stressed, so uptight. You’d be doing everyone a favour if you did.”

You roll your eyes, slapping his arm playfully. “I didn’t know my lack of… cumming was a group concern,” you muttered, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

His chuckle is low, almost a hum, but his eyes never leave yours.

Taking a sip of your wine, you decide to lean into the humour of it all. “Thanks for the gift, though,” you say, your tone light, playful. “Maybe this thing will finally do the job, considering everything else I’ve tried has been useless.”

Daniel’s expression shifts, his smirk freezing as his eyebrows lift. “Wait, what?”

Your cheeks flush instantly, and you curse yourself for letting that slip. “Nothing,” you mumble, shaking your head as you try to sidestep him.

But his hand darts out, gently grabbing your wrist and holding you in place. His grip is firm but not forceful, and it sends a jolt of electricity up your arm.

“You’re not getting out of this one,” he says, his voice low, laced with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

You groan, tipping your head back in exasperation. “I can’t believe I’m telling you, of all people, this.”

“Hey!” he exclaims, feigning hurt but a moment later, his smirk returns, though it’s softer this time, less mocking and more intrigued.

You bite your lip, debating, but the words tumble out before you can stop them. “It’s not voluntary, okay? I just… I can’t make myself, you know… finish. Not with my fingers, not with toys—nothing works. And I’m not exactly dying to hook up with anyone, either.”

His grip on your wrist loosens slightly, but his thumb brushes against your skin, sending another shiver through you. He’s quiet for a moment, processing, before he lets out a soft chuckle.

“Well,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave, “if that’s the case, you’d better give me a review of my gift once you use it.”

Without thinking, without hesitating, you fire back, “Why don’t you see for yourself if it works?”

The second the words leave your mouth, you realize what you’ve just said. His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by something darker, more intense.

His grip tightens slightly, anchoring you in place. The air between you shifts, thick and charged, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve gone too far. But then, he steps closer, invading your personal space as his lips graze your ear. 

“Careful,” he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. “I might take you up on that.”

Your breath catches, the weight of his words settling over you like a challenge. And for the first time all night, you’re not sure if this is still a joke—or if you want it to be.

The thought had all but left your mind as the night wore on, the air filled with laughter, the buzz of conversation, and the off-key singing of your friends as they belted out holiday tunes. You’d allowed yourself to relax, to forget about Daniel’s provocative words and the gift itself. The glass of wine you’d poured earlier remained untouched on the countertop—a conscious decision to remain completely sober and avoid any further embarrassment in front of him.

As the night began to wind down, your friends trickled out one by one, each hugging you tightly and thanking you for hosting. The energy shifted, quieter now, though still warm and filled with contentment. One of your friends lingered before leaving, her grin mischievous as she nudged you gently.

“Don’t forget about your gift,” she teased, winking. “Tonight might be the perfect time to use it.” 

You laughed it off, waving her out the door, but her words lingered, stirring something deep inside your chest. As the door closed behind her, you let out a quiet breath and turned back to the living room.

Daniel was still there, gathering stray glasses and stacking plates with a practiced ease that made your stomach twist. He always stayed behind to help, his presence in your space as natural as if he belonged there. 

The last of your friends were slowly trickling out, bidding you their goodbyes with hugs and sleepy smiles. It wasn’t long before it was just you and Daniel, the sound of clinking dishes breaking the comfortable silence.

In the kitchen, you were focused on loading the dishwasher when Daniel came up behind you, balancing a few more plates in his hands. His proximity sent a familiar jolt through you, a rush of awareness that made it impossible to ignore him.

As he set the dishes down beside you, the memory of your earlier moment in the kitchen resurfaced and you felt your cheeks warm at the thought, and you stole a glance at him. It seemed like that moment was on his mind too. His expression was unreadable, but the silence stretched between you, thick and charged.

Neither of you brought it up, though, working side by side until the kitchen was spotless. 

He wandered back to the living room right before you, picking up his leather jacket from the couch. But as he moved to sling it over his arm, his eyes landed on the box still sitting on the cushion—the gift, untouched and glaringly present. His head tilted slightly, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk.

You weren’t sure what compelled you to speak up, but the words left your mouth before you could stop them. “I was told I should use it tonight.” 

The moment the confession escaped your lips, heat flared across your face. You busied yourself with fixing the cushions on the couches, avoiding his gaze. 

Daniel chuckled softly, the sound drawing your attention back to him despite yourself. “Is that so?” He picked up the box with his free hand, his movements casual. “Are you going to?” He asked, tone laced with intrigue. 

He dropped his jacket back onto the couch, sliding one hand in his pocket as he waited for your response. Your heart was pounding now, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why you were even entertaining this conversation.

Daniel’s smirk widened as he toyed with the box in his hand, his fingers brushing deliberately over the edge of the packaging. His gaze flicked to you, then back to the box, and with a slow, deliberate step, he started closing the space between you.

“What’s the hesitation, huh?” he asked, his voice smooth, teasing. “Scared it’s not going to work? Or are you scared it will?”

You shot him a glare, though it lacked any real heat. “I’m not scared,” you muttered, your voice betraying the slight tremor in your chest.

“No?” He stepped even closer, the vibrator box now dangling lazily from his hand as his eyes roamed your face, searching for cracks in your resolve. “Then what is it? You just like edging yourself, is that it? Letting yourself get so close you can taste it… then ripping it away?”

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively shook your head, the heat in your cheeks spreading down your neck. “I don’t—”

He cut you off with a low chuckle, taking another step until he was standing directly in front of you, the air between you thick and charged. “No?” he pressed, tilting his head. “You’re telling me you spend your nights wound up tight, desperate, trying to finish but never quite getting there?”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could think twice. “I need to cum. So badly.”

Daniel’s smirk deepened, his gaze darkening as his free hand came up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering for just a second too long. “Then you should use it tonight,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, more intimate. “Get yourself off, let go for once. But…”

He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Maybe what you really need is another pair of hands.”

“Daniel…” you whispered, your voice trembling, unsure if it was a protest or an invitation.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the teasing smirk never leaving his lips. “Say it,” he said softly, the challenge clear in his tone. “And I’ll make sure you finally get what you need.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, time seemed to still. Daniel stood close, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, his dark eyes locked on yours like he was daring you to make the next move. 

You nodded, the motion small but deliberate, your lips brushing against his as if testing the waters. The faintest whisper escaped you, desperate. “Please, Danny, make me cum.” 

That was all it took.

Daniel surged forward, his hand sliding around the back of your neck as his lips crashed against yours with a force that made your knees weak. The kiss was fiery, intense, and filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface all night. His other hand dropped the box unceremoniously onto the couch, coming up to grip your jaw, guiding your movements.

You gasped into his mouth as his tongue slipped past your lips, deepening the kiss. Your heart raced as Daniel’s mouth moved against yours, eliciting a hunger from within you that made your knees weak. His tongue teased yours, pulling soft, desperate noises from the back of your throat. 

Daniel’s hands found your waist, steady and firm as he guided you backward until the edge of the couch caught the backs of your knees. A gentle push sent you down onto the cushions, your breath hitching as he towered over you. His gaze, dark and filled with intent, flicked to the discarded box on the couch beside you. Without breaking eye contact, he reached for it, the tearing sound of the packaging loud in the charged silence.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers worked at the box with practiced ease, pulling out the sleek vibrator that gleamed faintly in the dim light. He held it up for a moment, his smirk deepening as he glanced back at you. “Strip for me,” he said, the words carrying a weight that made your stomach flutter.

Your hands moved instantly, almost on instinct, tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. You fumbled with the waistband of your pants next, your eagerness only adding to the heat building between you. 

Daniel knelt in front of you once you were bare for him. His hands found your ankles, warm and strong, as he pulled your legs over his broad shoulders, his stubble grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The couch cushions dipped under your weight, but all you could focus on was the way he leaned in, the heat of his breath just inches away from your cunt. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, almost as if speaking to your glistening cunt rather than to you. “So wet already… Were you this desperate before, or is this just for me?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out. Your throat felt dry, your body so keyed up you could barely breathe. He grinned, clearly pleased by your speechlessness, and leaned in just close enough that his breath ghosted over your folds. The sensation made you shiver, your body straining toward him of its own accord.

His warm breath fanned over your slick heat, and you swore you could feel every word as he spoke. “You’ve been needing this, haven’t you? So worked up, so desperate to let go.”

Your mouth fell open in response, a soft whimper escaping as his fingers slid up your inner thigh, his touch featherlight but enough to make you arch into him. Two fingers came to rest against your folds, spreading you gently. The simple act, something you’d done countless times to yourself, now felt like an entirely new experience under his hands.

He dragged his thumb upward, deliberately brushing against your clit in the faintest tease, a mere suggestion of pressure that sent jolts of electricity racing through you. Your hips bucked involuntarily, a soft, pleading whimper slipping from your lips.

“Daniel,” you breathed, your voice shaky with need. “Please, I need to—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his tone smooth, teasing. His lips curled into a smirk as his thumb circled your clit again, just barely grazing the swollen nub. “Needy, aren’t you?” He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through you. “You’ve been so patient. Let me enjoy this for a moment.”

Your head fell back against the couch, your thighs trembling over his shoulders. The teasing was excruciating, his touch featherlight and agonizingly slow, keeping you on the edge without giving you the relief you so desperately craved. Another whine escaped you, and he chuckled again, clearly amused by your desperation.

“Do you know how pretty you sound when you beg?” he murmured, his voice low and rich. “But don’t worry. That’s what I’m here for. Me and this little gift of mine.”

Before you could respond, Daniel leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over your core before his tongue dragged a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds. The sudden wet heat of his mouth made you gasp, your back arching off the couch as he pulled back with a hum of satisfaction.

“Sweet,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he spoke. “Perfect.”

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, but there was no time to recover. He brought the vibrator into view, the sleek toy gleaming in the dim light. “Let’s see how well this works, hmm?”

He pressed the tip of the vibrator against your clit, still teasing, still maddeningly light. Then, with a click, he turned it on. The sudden vibration against your sensitive flesh was like a jolt of electricity, and you cried out, your hips jerking upward as pleasure shot through your body.

The sensation was familiar yet utterly foreign, amplified by the fact that you weren’t in control. You didn’t know what was coming next, couldn’t anticipate his movements, and it left you completely at his mercy.

Daniel pressed the vibrator more firmly against your clit, his eyes fixed on your face as he watched your reactions with a wicked grin. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re so sensitive, love. Look at how you’re shaking.”

Your legs quivered over his shoulders, your body trembling under the relentless stimulation. Just when you thought it couldn’t get more intense, his fingers returned, parting your folds once more. The wetness there made it easy for him to slide one finger inside you, then another, the intrusion smooth and deliberate.

You moaned loudly, your hands clutching at the couch cushions as the dual sensations overwhelmed you. The vibrator against your clit and his fingers inside you created a perfect rhythm, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“Daniel,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the pressure built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter.

The vibrator hummed steadily against your clit, Daniel’s fingers curling inside you with a precision that made your back arch. The pressure built higher and higher, and you trembled, caught between the unbearable pleasure and the tension coiling in your stomach.

This was always the point where you faltered, the moment where the pleasure grew so overwhelming, so maddeningly close, only to slip away. Every time you’d done this to yourself, your fingers had failed to push you past that invisible barrier. It was like chasing a mirage, just out of reach, leaving you frustrated and aching for more.

The memory of all those failed attempts made your chest tighten. You bit your lip, your moans softening, and Daniel noticed the subtle shift in your body. His movements slowed slightly, and his dark eyes flicked up to your face.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice smooth and commanding, yet somehow soothing. His fingers stilled inside you for a moment, and he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against your thigh. “Don’t go shy on me now. I can feel how close you are.”

You whimpered, your lips parting to speak, but Daniel didn’t give you the chance. His grin turned wicked as his fingers curled again, this time pressing deep against a spot that had your breath catching in your throat.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his voice low and filthy. “Dripping for me. You’re so tight, sweetheart—so desperate to let go. Don’t fight it. You’re mine to ruin tonight.”

The vibrator pressed harder against your clit as he notched up the intensity. The sensation made you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand, but Daniel held you firm, his grip possessive.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he stated, his tone dark and teasing. “Not until I’ve wrung every last bit of that tension out of you. I want to feel you shake for me, hear you scream my name.”

His fingers thrust into you with deliberate precision, and he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cunt. “You’re going to cum for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with sin. “And when you do, you’re going to fucking thank me for it.”

The vibrator buzzed relentlessly against your clit, and his fingers kept up their steady rhythm, hitting a spot that constantly made you see stars. Your body writhed on the couch, every nerve on fire, as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“You like that, don’t you?” Daniel’s voice was a low growl, his lips brushing against your trembling thigh. “Being completely at my mercy? Taking exactly what I give you? That’s it, pretty girl. Stop thinking. Just feel me.”

His words broke through your haze of overthinking, and you let go, surrendering completely. The coil inside you snapped, sending you spiraling into an orgasm so intense it left you shaking, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

Daniel stayed with you through it, his touch unrelenting but steady, drawing out every wave of pleasure until you were left trembling, spent, and utterly undone beneath him.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs trembling over Daniel’s broad shoulders. The vibrator slowed but didn’t stop, sending smaller, teasing jolts through your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew carefully, and you whimpered at the loss, your body still pulsing from the aftershocks.

He straightened, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he lowered your legs from his shoulders, guiding them down to wrap around his hips instead. Rising to his full height, Daniel moved onto the couch, the cushions dipping under his weight as he hovered over you. 

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough as he braced one arm on the back of the couch, the other trailing down to grip your jaw gently. “Look at you, trembling for me. Completely wrecked—and I’m not even close to being done with you.” 

His gaze was magnetic, holding yours captive as his lips hovered just above yours, a breath away. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his hips brushing yours in a way that made you gasp, your body instinctively arching toward him despite your exhaustion.

Your eyes widened as his words registered, your mind spinning as his intentions became clear. A fresh wave of heat pooled in your stomach, your body responding despite how utterly spent you felt.

“Oh, that’s right, sweetheart,” Daniel said, his lips curling into a wicked, filthy grin. “I’m going to make up for all those times you had to edge yourself, all the times you were so fucking close but couldn’t quite get there. That’s over now.”

He dipped his head, brushing his lips along the curve of your jaw, his stubble scraping against your heated skin and leaving a delicious burn in its wake. His hand slid down your body, fingers grazing your waist before gripping your thigh possessively. “You’re going to cum on my fingers again, on my tongue, on my cock—over and over until you’re wrecked, until you can’t even remember what it felt like to want more. I’ll make sure you’re completely satisfied, sweetheart.”

His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, his voice dropping even lower, rough with desire. “And I won’t stop until you’re a mess beneath me, begging for mercy or for more.” 

Taglist: @lilorose25 @thenotoriouserg @a-distantdreamer @leclercsluvs @fat-meh @wintxr-widow @amirahart @alishamai @rendezvoushn

This one is so cute!!!! I love it!💖💖💓💓

Smooth Operator (Carlos Sainz x Reader)

Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Some people can hear a song when their close to their soulmate, the volume depends on how far or close to them you are. Carlos was sure his song was smooth operator, so why hasn't he found his soulmate yet.

People would spend their whole life hoping to meeting their soulmate. Some would meet them as entered any stage of schooling or some would run into them suddenly but the worst were those that spent their life preening their ears for the soft melody of their soulmate song. You never knew what the song was, it could be a song that actually existed or just a mash of musical notes that described the two people involved but there was one thing Carlos was sure of; smooth operator was his soulmate song and yet his love life was anything but smooth operation.

He had heard stories of how loud and melodious the music was when his mother entered his father's life, his sister's recounted time when they met their soulmate. Carlos was getting antsy. Until one day, during a race weekend, he had grown tired of the tune of smooth operator which he could hear playing faintly as he walked in to the paddock with Lando. "ugh, that stupid song" Carlos muttered. "What song?" Lando asked confused. "Smooth Operator" Carlos stated. Lando looked confused, "I hear nothing" Lando stated. Carlos's eyes widened trying to figure out where he should move to find his soulmate. In the frantic few minutes of Carlos running around the paddock like a headless chicken with a confused Lando calling out to him; the melody stopped just as it had started.

Y/N never thought she would find her soulmate, she was above the natural age most of her relatives and family had met theirs and she had given up hope on ever meeting hers. She was in a small store near an F1 race when she heard the faint sound of smooth operator playing. She chalked it down to it being played at the race because it was a running gag with Carlos, her favourite Formula One driver. Y/N wasn't able to secure tickets to the race and just enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the race from the entrance, retreating to her hotel to try and enjoy a F1 free vacation.

Carlos waited days and months to be able to hear the song again, but with all the travelling it wouldn't have been possible. He just wished he had tried harder and maybe than he would've met his soulmate by now. His spirit was wounded to say the least.

Carlos then proceeded to hear smooth operator a few more times, but the melody was so faint that anyone would've missed it. His ears had started to pick up on the song whether it was being played or not.

Y/N finally got tickets to a F1 race. She used to watch the races with her siblings and being able to experience it with them was a dream come true for her. They had packed their bag and headed off to Spain. Ever since she had landed, she could hear the faint buzzing of smooth operator. She chalked it up to being obsessed with Carlos that, that was she was hearing it. She had made beaded bracelets for him and her siblings had made posters for the track side. It was Carlos's home race and she was so excited to be able to see him race in his home turf. As she had only gotten tickets for the race day, she spent the rest of her time in Barcelona with Smooth Operator playing. She thought it was probably the song currently stuck in her head. A thought did cross her mind; what if it was her soulmate song, but quickly pushed it off since the volume didn't seem to increase of decrease constantly.

Carlos was on edge, he could hear the song playing over and over again, the melody taunting him. The volume had increased on Friday but had remained constant the whole weekend, making it difficult to communicate with his race engineer. This was really throwing his mind off track since he couldn't focus on anything but the thought of his soulmate being so close yet so far away.

It was race day and both Carlos and Y/N were getting ready for the day. Y/N held all the bracelets she made for the drivers and fellow fans in hand as she distributed it to her fellow 55ers. She hoped to meet Carlos as he drove in. A little while after she had gotten on the track, the volume of the song playing in her ears had increased. Was she about to meet her soulmate? was all she could think about as the volume kept increasing. Y/N kept an eye out for anyone, in hopes that maybe, just maybe. She felt stupid for hoping when never thought she'd meet her soulmate.

As Carlos's car halted to a stop in the parking lot, the song had gotten quite loud, loud enough to make it difficult to focus. Carlos was extremely excited by it. He hopped out of the car and started scanning the area for his soulmate. He walked around for a bit before proceeding to the fans when he felt like he would go deaf with how loudly the song was blaring. He looked around for anyone who was also being affected by it. And than he saw it. A girl who's eyes were frantically scanning the area. Carlos stumbled forward to stand in front of her and as their eyes met, they knew since the song suddenly stopped, like the whole world stopped. Y/N slipped a bracelet into his palm while Carlos tried to walk away, not to cause a big scene. Y/N pulled her siblings aside and told them what had just happened and they couldn't stop jumping in excitement.

He asked his cousin to help get the girl into the garage. His cousin was quick to get her and her siblings in. Y/N was anxious and worried and excited. She couldn't believe Carlos was her soulmate. What good karma had she acquired to have him as her soulmate, she wondered.

Y/N was ushered into the garage, Carlos was seen waiting, his hair a mess from running his hands through it so many times. The pair stood in front of each other, "Carlos" she whispered and Carlos took her in. Dressed in his colours with his number on her cap and looked at the bracelet in his hand which read, idc ur my soulmate. It was supposed to be a joke, but right now neither of them were laughing. "Not fair you know my name" Carlos spoke, breaking the silence. "Y/N" she laughed. "Can't believe it" she said turning around to stop herself from fan girling. "You better believe it because I'm here to stay" he stated. She turned around to look at him once more, taking him in, not Carlos Sainz Jr, Formula One driver but Carlos Sainz, her soulmate. "That bracelet was supposed to be a joke" she stated as she saw him put it on. "And now it will be something I will wear forever" Carlos said, kissing the bracelet on his hand. "I never thought I would meet my soulmate but it was totally worth the wait" she smiled at him with tears in her eyes. "I always knew I would meet you and I'm glad I didn't lose hope" he smiled back, wrapping her in his embrace. The pair stood there for a while before breaking away, "Gonna have to win the race to show you how good I am" Carlos said. "I know how good you are but a race win doesn't sound bad" she replied.

𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓷𝓸𝔀

Charles Leclerc x Reader

You never understood why people romanticized the snow. It was cold, it was wet, and worst of all—you always, always got sick. Yet, here you were, wrapped in layers upon layers of clothing, standing knee-deep in powdery white as Charles laughed beside you, his breath misting in the air.

“This was a terrible idea,” you grumble, tugging your scarf up higher.

Charles only grins, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, mon amour, it’s our anniversary. You have to admit, it’s beautiful.”

You glance around. The mountains stretch endlessly, the world around you painted in a perfect, postcard-worthy white. The cabin behind you is warm and inviting, but Charles had convinced you to take a walk—"Just for a little while," he had said. And because you could never say no to him, you agreed.

“I can appreciate it from inside,” you reply, shivering.

Charles chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” Then, before you can react, he crouches down, scooping up a handful of snow.

Your eyes widen in warning. “Charles, don’t you dare—”

Too late. The snowball lands on your coat with a soft thud, and Charles bursts into laughter.

“Oh, that’s it!” You scoop up your own handful and launch it at him, but he dodges effortlessly, his racing reflexes working against you even here.

You huff, crossing your arms, but the cold is already sinking into your bones. Charles notices immediately, his teasing expression softening. “Okay, okay, let’s go inside.” He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you, his warmth instantly comforting. His lips press against your forehead, and you sigh, leaning into him.

“I hate the snow,” you mumble against his chest.

“I know,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your temple. “But I love you.”

hii‼️i love you work sooo much and how the songs are just so perfect for every thing you write😻 idk if you take requests but if you do, can you write smth inspired by i see the light from tangled with cs55🙏🏼 it could be that reader is introverted and doesn't always take risks or go out of here comfort zone and how he gets her out of her shell but also becomes her comfort zone, or how ever you think seems good🙏🏼💕

𝓣𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵

Carlos Sainz x Reader

You never meant to be there. Not in the pit lane, not in the team garage, and definitely not pressed up against the fence watching sparks fly from the rear of an F1 car. You came to the race weekend because your friend had an extra ticket and you figured it was better than your usual Saturday — a quiet apartment, a half-finished book, maybe a cup of tea you forget to drink until it's cold.

You’re not the type for noise. Not the type for fast things, or crowds, or the adrenaline that seems to fuel people like him. Carlos Sainz. You only knew his name because your friend said it with a dreamy sigh on the flight. You’d nodded politely and Googled him in the hotel room just to keep up the conversation.

And yet, somehow, he notices you.

It’s a ridiculous story, the kind you’d never believe if someone else told it. You’re just standing there, watching the team pack up, when he walks over. You try not to stare. He’s still in his race suit, hair a little wild from the helmet, sweat at his temples. He smiles like you’re not just another face in the blur of fans and engineers.

“You don’t look like you belong here,” he says with an easy charm.

You look down at yourself, at your sensible shoes and your hands nervously twisting the strap of your bag. “I don’t,” you reply, more honestly than you mean to.

He laughs. “Then we have something in common. I’m not supposed to like quiet people. They say I talk too much.”

You expect him to move on, to laugh again and disappear into the crowd. But he doesn’t. He stays. He asks your name, and when you give it, he repeats it slowly, like he's making sure he gets it right. Like it matters.

It starts there — a few minutes, a joke, the strange magnetism of someone who belongs to a world you never considered stepping into. You meet again the next day. Then again. And then it’s coffee, and walking through cities you’ve never seen, and him letting you talk at your own pace, which is slow and careful, like the words might fall apart if you move too fast.

He’s patient. He’s bright in a way you aren’t used to. He makes jokes you don’t always understand, but he notices the way your eyes light up when he mentions something you do. He starts learning your rhythms. He teases, gently. Encourages, softly. You find yourself saying “yes” to things you usually decline. A boat ride. A dinner with too many people.

He pulls you out of yourself — not in a way that erases you, but in a way that stretches your boundaries without snapping them. He makes the world feel a little less sharp, a little less terrifying.

But something strange happens. He stops feeling like the push out of your comfort zone. He starts feeling like home.

His voice on the phone when he’s halfway around the world. The way he throws you a grin from the driver’s seat. The softness in his eyes when he knows you're about to withdraw, and the patience he shows when you do.

You used to think comfort meant hiding. Quiet. Predictability.

Now you know it can also mean someone who makes the noise bearable.

Someone who doesn't ask you to be loud, just to be you.

𝓒𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼

Carlos Sainz x Reader

You glance at Carlos from across the kitchen counter, a mischievous glint in your eyes. The two of you had decided to make pasta from scratch—something new, something fun—but so far, all you’ve managed to do is make a mess.

Carlos stands with his sleeves rolled up, his strong forearms dusted with flour. “Are you sure we’re doing this right?” he asks, tilting his head as he kneads the dough. His fingers press into it with practiced confidence, but you can’t help but focus on the way his lips curl into a playful smirk.

“Not at all,” you admit, laughing as you try to roll out your own dough. It sticks stubbornly to your hands, refusing to cooperate.

Carlos chuckles, stepping closer. “Let me help.” He moves behind you, guiding your hands with his own. His chest brushes against your back, warm and solid, and you can feel his breath against your neck. It’s almost unfair how easily he distracts you.

“Is this your plan all along?” you tease, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “To flirt your way out of actually making pasta?”

He grins, his fingers lacing over yours as he helps smooth out the dough. “Maybe,” he murmurs, his voice low and playful. “But I think it’s working.”

You try to roll your eyes, but it’s impossible when he’s looking at you like that—his brown eyes full of warmth, his lips just a breath away. Your heart stumbles over itself when he leans in, brushing his nose against your cheek.

“You’re still making a mess,” he murmurs against your skin.

You laugh, turning in his arms, pressing a bit of flour to the tip of his nose. He gasps in mock offense, but before he can retaliate, you catch his lips in a kiss—soft, slow, and utterly sweet.

For a moment, the pasta is forgotten, the flour-covered counter a distant concern. It’s just you and Carlos, the taste of laughter and love between you.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

Charles Leclerc x Reader

The soft glow of streetlights bathed your quiet neighborhood in golden hues, the warmth of the evening air still lingering on your skin from the perfect date you had shared with him just hours ago. Charles had been nothing short of a dream—charming, kind, and effortlessly funny. Every moment spent with him felt like something out of a movie, yet you never expected the night to end like this.

As you stood by your bedroom window, lost in thought, your phone buzzed—a message from Charles.

"Look outside."

Heart racing, you pulled back the curtain, and there he was. Standing under the streetlamp, his signature tousled hair illuminated by the soft glow, Charles held a sign in his hands. Bold letters scrawled across it read:

"WHEN CAN I SEE YOU?"

A breathless laugh escaped your lips as warmth bloomed in your chest. His eyes met yours, hopeful, playful, and a little nervous. You could hardly believe it. He had just dropped you off, yet here he was again, standing outside your house like the hero of a romantic film.

You grabbed a notebook from your desk, scribbled down your response, and held it up against the window:

"RIGHT NOW?"

Charles' grin widened, dimples appearing as he nodded enthusiastically. He motioned for you to come down, and without a second thought, you slipped on your shoes, heart hammering with excitement.

The moment you stepped outside, he was there, hands in his pockets, looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. "I know I just saw you," he admitted, voice soft, "but I already missed you."

You laughed, shaking your head at his ridiculous yet undeniably sweet confession. "And now?" you teased.

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand, fingers grazing like electricity sparking between you. "Now, I never want to leave."

And just like that, the night that was supposed to end hours ago became a memory you’d cherish forever.

First time parents

Carlos Sainz x Reader

The glow of the morning sun filters through the nursery curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. You stir awake, feeling the weight of exhaustion mixed with an overwhelming sense of joy. Beside you, Carlos shifts, rubbing his eyes as he hears the faint whimpering of your newborn.

"I'll get her," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

You watch as he moves with surprising gentleness, scooping your daughter into his arms. His hair is tousled, his T-shirt slightly wrinkled from the restless night before, but there's a softness in his gaze that makes your heart clench. He walks back to the bed, cradling the tiny bundle between you.

"She has your nose," he teases, brushing a finger over her delicate features.

"And your stubbornness," you counter, remembering the way she refused to sleep unless she was held—much like her father, who couldn't stand being still for too long.

Carlos chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before placing another on your daughter's tiny hand. "We're in trouble, aren’t we?"

You sigh, resting your head against his shoulder. "Completely."

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind—late-night feedings, endless diaper changes, moments of pure bliss mixed with sheer exhaustion. Yet, through it all, Carlos has been your rock. Despite his intense schedule, the races, and the media appearances, he’s always here, always present.

Last night, when the baby wouldn’t stop crying, he had walked around the house for hours, humming softly in Spanish until she finally fell asleep. You had stood by the doorway, watching the man who commands speed and precision on the track move so patiently, so lovingly, as if time had slowed just for the two of them.

"Do you ever miss the quiet?" you ask now, watching as your daughter grips his finger in her tiny fist.

Carlos shakes his head, smiling. "Not for a second. This—" He gestures between the three of you. "This is the best race of my life."

Tears prick your eyes, and he notices, tilting your chin up with a teasing smirk. "Are we getting emotional?"

You laugh, swatting his arm, but he only pulls you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that speaks of every late-night whisper, every shared dream, every moment of love that led you here.

Parenthood is messy, unpredictable, and utterly exhausting. But with Carlos by your side, it’s also the most beautiful adventure of all.

𝓢𝓱𝓮'𝓼 𝓪 𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬

Charles Leclerc x Reader

The warm breeze gently tousling your hair as you look out over the twinkling city lights. It's a calm evening, the kind that holds a certain magic, the kind where anything seems possible. You've had a long day, but something about tonight feels different, as if the universe is aligning just for you.

Suddenly, you hear the soft strum of a guitar. You turn, and there, standing in the dim light of the courtyard below, is Charles Leclerc. His face is partially hidden by the shadows, but his intense gaze locks with yours. His lips curl into a knowing smile as he continues to play, his fingers moving with ease over the strings.

“¿What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly with surprise and curiosity.

He steps closer, the sound of his guitar filling the air as he sings in a soft, melodic tone.

His voice is warm and rich, the words flowing like a river, effortlessly bridging the gap between your hearts. It's not just a song, it's a serenade, something deeply personal, meant only for you.

You feel a flutter in your chest, a blend of emotions you can’t quite place. But as Charles continues to sing, you realize it's a feeling you've been longing for—romance, connection, tenderness, all wrapped up in this unexpected moment.

When he finishes the song, there's a quiet pause. He looks at you, waiting, perhaps for a sign, for the acknowledgment of his heartfelt gesture. You walk towards him, your heart racing, as you reach the balcony edge.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” you whisper, your voice softer now, almost lost in the night air.

Charles chuckles, a sound that feels like the perfect harmony to his song. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he says, his eyes dancing with mischief.

You smile back at him, feeling an undeniable pull towards him. You step down the stairs and cross the courtyard to meet him. The space between you closes, and as you finally stand face to face, he looks at you with such intensity, it’s almost as if he’s memorizing every detail.

“You’re incredible,” you say, your heart beating faster than ever.

He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, and for a moment, everything falls away—the world, the noise, the distance. It’s just the two of you, surrounded by the quiet of the night.

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm. “But I would be nothing without you.”

It feels like everything aligns perfectly. The stars, the music, the warmth of the night, and the spark between you two. It’s not just a serenade. It’s a promise, a moment in time that will never be forgotten.

As he gently pulls you into his arms, you close your eyes and let yourself sink into the rhythm of the night, of the love blooming around you.

𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓶

Carlos Sainz x Reader

The city lights flicker like distant stars, casting a golden glow over the quiet streets as you walk beside Carlos, your heels dangling from your fingers. The night air is crisp, cool against your skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth radiating from him. Your arm is looped through his, your body leaning into his side for balance—not just from the cocktails still buzzing in your veins, but from the sheer exhaustion of dancing, laughing, living in the moment.

Carlos glances down at you, his lips curving into a small, amused smile. “You okay, princesa?” His voice is soft, edged with that familiar Spanish lilt that makes your heart skip a beat.

You hum in response, tilting your head to look up at him. “Mhm. Just tired,” you admit, your cheek resting briefly against his shoulder. “And maybe a little tipsy.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. “I can tell,” he teases, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “But I think you just wanted an excuse to hold onto me.”

Rolling your eyes, you nudge him playfully. “As if I need an excuse,” you murmur, feeling bold under the haze of the night.

The streets are nearly empty, the world around you quiet except for the occasional distant honk of a car or the rhythmic click of a streetlamp buzzing above. It feels like you and him exist in a little pocket of time, away from everything—away from the noise, the cameras, the chaos of the world he belongs to.

“You didn’t have to walk me back,” you say after a beat, though secretly, you’re glad he insisted.

Carlos exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Of course, I did. Can’t let you wander around barefoot in the middle of the night. What kind of gentleman would that make me?”

You laugh, squeezing his arm. “A very bad one,” you tease, earning a smirk from him.

You reach the entrance of the hotel, the grand glass doors reflecting the two of you standing close, wrapped up in something unspoken. You should let go, step back, but neither of you do. His hand lingers near your wrist, his thumb grazing your skin in lazy circles, sending a rush of warmth through you.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks, his voice quieter now, more intimate.

You nod, searching his eyes—deep brown, warm like melted chocolate, laced with something unreadable. “Yeah,” you say softly. “Did you?”

Carlos doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he lifts a hand, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch featherlight, his fingers lingering just a second too long. Your breath catches, heart hammering against your ribs.

“Yeah,” he murmurs finally, his gaze never leaving yours. “I did.”

The space between you seems to shrink, electricity crackling in the air. Your fingers tighten around his arm, your body instinctively swaying closer.

“Carlos…” you whisper, unsure of what you’re asking, what you’re wanting—until his hand cradles the side of your face, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone.

“What?” he breathes, voice hushed, his forehead nearly resting against yours.

The night stands still, the city quiet, the only sound the shared breaths between you.

love, love, love

Carlos Sainz x Reader

The soft hum of your favorite song played in the background as you and Carlos sat cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of wedding magazines, swatches of fabric, and color samples. It was late evening, and the golden glow of candles you both lit gave the room a warm, almost magical, ambiance.

“Are you sure about this color?” Carlos asked, holding up a swatch of burgundy velvet between his fingers, his brow furrowed in concentration. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him taking the smallest details so seriously, his usual calm demeanor tinged with just a hint of nervous energy.

“It’s perfect,” you reassured him, scooting closer to examine the fabric. “It’ll look stunning with the ivory table settings.”

Carlos leaned back, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “I just want everything to be perfect for you.” His words were soft, sincere, and they made your heart swell.

“You mean us,” you corrected with a teasing smile, brushing his hand lightly. He caught your fingers mid-motion, lacing them with his.

“Right, us,” he said, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Although I think you’re doing most of the hard work here. I just follow orders.”

You laughed, nudging him gently. “Hardly! You’ve vetoed, what, three cake flavors already?”

“Okay, the pistachio one was just wrong,” he replied, laughing as well. His laughter echoed in the room, and you realized, not for the first time, how his joy had the power to lift the heaviest of days.

As the evening wore on, you both found yourselves lying on the plush rug, your head resting on his shoulder. He was scrolling through photos on his phone, showing you venue options while sneaking in snapshots of your happiest moments together—road trips, cozy mornings, stolen moments from race weekends.

“Do you remember this?” he asked, showing you a picture of the two of you on a small boat in the middle of Lake Como. The sun had set behind you, casting a fiery glow over the water.

“Of course,” you replied, tracing the screen with your finger. “You were steering us straight into another boat.”

Carlos chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Best near-crash of my life.”

You closed your eyes, letting his voice and the memory wash over you. “We’ve had so many beautiful moments together, haven’t we?”

“And we’re about to have the most beautiful one yet,” he whispered, his voice full of conviction. “When I see you walking down that aisle… that’s going to be a moment I’ll never forget.”

Your throat tightened, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. His brown eyes held a softness, a depth that made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“You’re going to cry, aren’t you?” you teased, your voice breaking the emotion with a lightness that had become second nature between you two.

“I’m not making any promises,” he replied, grinning. “But if I do, you can’t hold it against me. Deal?”

“Deal,” you murmured, leaning up to kiss him softly, your fingers brushing against his jawline. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of wedding planning and the comfort of his arms, you realized you didn’t need perfection. You just needed him.

And that was the most beautiful detail of all.

...and oh, she's so pretty!

Carlos Sainz x Reader

It’s a quiet evening, and you’re sitting in a cozy café, the sound of soft chatter surrounding you. The rain taps gently against the windows, and the dim lights create a warm, intimate atmosphere. Across from you, Carlos Sainz sits, his usual calm demeanor tinged with concern as he watches you. He notices the slight frown on your face, the way your arms are crossed in a subtle gesture of frustration. You’ve been in a bad mood for the past few minutes—something small, insignificant, really. But to you, in this moment, it feels bigger.

Carlos doesn’t understand exactly why you’re upset. He’s tried to ask, but you’ve brushed it off with a soft sigh, claiming it’s nothing. He can’t help but notice how beautiful you look, though. Even now, with a cloud hanging over your mood, he’s captivated by the way your hair falls over your shoulders, the sparkle in your eyes, and the way your lips pout when you’re deep in thought.

You catch him looking at you, and despite your irritation, you feel your heart flutter just a little. It’s as if, no matter what’s bothering you, Carlos has a way of making everything seem just a bit brighter. He leans forward, his voice gentle but full of warmth.

“You know,” he says softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “you’re still pretty, even when you’re mad.”

You blink, surprised by his words, but something about them makes the frustration melt away just a little. You meet his gaze, his eyes full of affection and understanding, and you realize—maybe it’s not the small thing that’s bothering you at all, but the way you’ve let it build up in your mind. His calmness, his presence, it has a way of grounding you.

“Carlos…” you start, unsure how to explain why you were upset. But he reaches across the table, his hand brushing against yours, as if reassuring you that whatever it is, it doesn’t matter to him. What matters is that you’re there, together, in this moment.

The corners of your lips turn upward, and you shake your head. “I don’t even know why I’m in such a bad mood. It’s nothing important.”

Carlos chuckles softly, squeezing your hand lightly. “I know. But you don’t have to be perfect, you know? You don’t have to have it all together. I think you’re pretty just the way you are.”

And there it is again—the way he makes everything feel lighter, as if your bad mood doesn’t stand a chance against the warmth of his words. You smile, a little embarrassed now, but grateful too.

With Carlos, there’s no need for explanations, no pressure to fix anything. He simply accepts you, bad moods and all. You realize that maybe it’s the small things—the way he sees you, the way he makes you feel—that matter the most.

𝓝𝓸𝔀 𝓱𝓮'𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓲𝓷' '𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

Charles Leclerc x Reader

It was your first time interviewing him—Charles Leclerc, the Formula 1 driver with the boyish charm and those eyes that seemed to pierce through you. He stood in front of you, casually dressed, but you could tell the weight of the spotlight never fully left him. The buzzing atmosphere of the paddock felt distant as you focused on him, trying to keep your cool.

His voice was calm, confident, but there was something different in the way he spoke to you, almost as if you weren’t just another reporter. You felt it, too—the spark, an unspoken connection that was undeniable. He smiled when you asked the question about his future goals in the sport. He leaned forward slightly, as if eager to share something deeper, something real.

As the interview came to a close, you handed him the mic with a polite smile, your heart racing just a little faster. But then, he surprised you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice dropping just a bit, his eyes locking with yours, “I don’t usually do this, but… can I ask for your number?”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. Was he serious? It felt like a movie scene unfolding before your eyes, and your breath caught in your throat. You’d never expected this moment to be the one where someone like him—someone so used to being in the spotlight—would want to step into your world.

“I mean, I know it’s forward, but I’d love to grab a coffee sometime, if you’re up for it,” he added, his smile shy, almost vulnerable. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his eyes.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips, and slowly, you gave him the number he asked for. He looked at it for a moment as if savoring the moment before slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Thanks,” he said softly, a trace of excitement in his voice.

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth spreading through you, a mix of surprise and excitement. You had always admired his skill on the track, but now, you were beginning to see a different side of him—the side that wanted to reach out, to connect, to see what lay beyond the fame.

Days passed, and you tried to keep things professional, but every message from him—every little exchange—left your heart fluttering. It was clear there was something there, something beyond the interviews and the cameras.

And soon, you’d find yourselves sitting at a small café, sharing stories, laughing, and realizing that what started with a simple question, a spontaneous gesture, had grown into something much more. You were no longer just the interviewer and the driver. You were two people, finding something real in a world full of fleeting moments.

The romance had started in the most unexpected of places, but now, it was something you both couldn't imagine letting go of.

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Warning: Mentions of Narcolepsy

The warm water wraps around you like a cocoon, the steam curling into the air as you lean back against the edge of the tub. It’s been a long day, and the soft scent of lavender is supposed to help you relax. Your eyes flutter shut for just a moment—just a moment, you think—but you know better.

Before you can react, the familiar weight of exhaustion tugs at you, pulling you under like an unseen tide.

But before you sink too far, strong arms are already there. Charles.

"Hey, chérie," his voice is soft, laced with concern as he pulls you upright. His arms are warm, steady, the kind of safety you don’t even have to think about. "I’ve got you."

You blink up at him, dazed. He’s crouched beside the tub, sleeves of his hoodie damp, his curls a little disheveled like he ran the moment he realized you’d been in here too long.

"I—" Your voice is barely a whisper. "Did I...?"

"You were falling asleep," he confirms, brushing wet strands of hair away from your face. "I was in the other room, but I had a feeling."

Of course he did. He always does.

You swallow, guilt settling in. "I didn’t mean to..."

"Shhh." He shakes his head, offering you that small, understanding smile that always makes your heart ache in the best way. "You don’t have to apologize."

With careful hands, he reaches for a towel, wrapping it around you before lifting you effortlessly from the water. The air is cooler against your skin, but he holds you close, pressing a kiss to your damp forehead.

"You scared me a little," he admits, voice barely above a whisper. "But you’re okay. That’s all that matters."

You curl into his chest, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the softness of his hoodie. "Thank you for always catching me."

His grip tightens, his lips brushing against your temple. "Always, mon amour."

And in his arms, you know—you will always be safe.

Strangers

Charles Leclerc x Reader

You slide into the passenger seat of the car, the engine purring softly beneath you. It's Charles Leclerc driving, the familiar hum of the road filling the air as you both pull out of the parking lot, heading nowhere in particular. He’s smiling at you, that kind of grin that tells you he's thinking about something but isn't quite ready to say it yet.

The night is warm, the kind of night that feels like it could stretch on forever. You’re both in no rush, enjoying the space between words. Every now and then, your eyes meet and there’s a flicker, a spark that you can’t really explain, but it feels like something is about to happen.

You talk for hours. The conversation starts off light, about racing, about silly things. Then it shifts to deeper stuff, things you hadn’t expected to share with him, but it feels easy. Safe. The kind of vulnerability you rarely show anyone else, but with Charles, it’s like you’ve known him forever.

At some point, you’re leaning over the center console, his face so close to yours, and you can feel the tension in the air. It’s as if the world has slowed down, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. And then, without even thinking, your lips meet, gentle at first, then a little deeper, as though neither of you wants to break away. The kiss lingers, but it’s not rushed. It’s exactly how it should be—slow, and full of all the unspoken things you both feel but haven’t quite said out loud.

But then, just like that, everything changes. The next morning, the text you sent goes unanswered. Charles is distant, and you start to feel that strange emptiness that comes when someone you thought was close begins to slip away. You wait for a reply that never comes, wondering if that night, that kiss, was just a momentary lapse or if it meant something more.

Days pass, and there’s no word. The silence grows, stretching between you like an ocean you can't cross. It feels like you're drifting farther apart with each passing second. Soon, the connection that once felt so natural has vanished, and all that's left are the echoes of a time when you both could've been more. The words you shared, the laughter, the kiss—they seem like distant memories. You no longer know where he is, or if he even remembers the way your heart beat faster that night.

And then, one random day, it hits you. He’s gone. And just like that, you're strangers again, with nothing left but the ghost of something that could’ve been.

Masterlist

Request

Request

Note:

• I don't write Smut stories. (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

• Only fem!readers

Monaco

Charles Leclerc x Reader

You can feel the weight of the past as you stand in the shadows of Mónaco. The salty air brushes your skin, mixing with the distant hum of the city’s nightlife, but none of that matters. Your eyes are only on one thing: the memory of him.

It’s been months maybe even years and yet the streets of this city hold him like an echo. You know that your plan was never meant to be forever. You were never meant to stay. It was always supposed to be fleeting, the way the summer nights come and go. You, Charles, and the promise of something more... something that could have been, but was never destined to last.

You remember how he used to take your hand as the sun set over the harbor, his face a mask of calm beneath the weight of the world. There were moments when you thought he could escape the fame, the pressure, and just be yours. But reality was always waiting, hovering like the darkness over the circuit at night, just as unpredictable as the next race. The promise of forever slipped through your fingers like sand, and suddenly, there was nothing but the silence between you.

You know it’s too late to go back. To reimagine what could have been. But part of you still holds on to the idea of him of the way his smile could light up even the darkest corners of your mind. The way he kissed you under the lights of the casino, telling you that everything would be okay, even if you both knew better.

You never spoke of a second chance. You didn’t need to. It was clear that the world around you his world was too big, too overwhelming for the two of you. The distance between you grew, just like the races that he kept winning, while you stayed on the sidelines. But there’s a part of you, the part that still lingers in the back of your mind, wondering what if.

What if there was another chance? What if this city, with its grand, timeless streets, could bring you both back together? You laugh softly at the thought. The answer is clear, even if it hurts. You were never meant to stay in each other's lives. But the memories of what happened here under the shadow of the circuit, in the quiet moments when you were alone together will never leave you.

Masterlist

JAMES POTTER

James

Irresistible

Like The Movies

Dance with me

Kisses

Puppy

Midnight Craving

REGULUS BLACK

Dear Heart, why him

So This Is Love (request)

For you, i'd steal the stars

CARLOS SAINZ

I can't read your mind

You smiled; i fell in love

maybe i just wanna be yours

...and oh, she's so pretty!

Love, love, love

First time parents

There is gentleness about him.

Cooking class

To the one who understands my soul (request)

CHARLES LECLERC

Monaco

Strangers

Wrong Date

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night

She's a romantic

When can i see you?

I hate the snow

Sleeping Beauty

EGGSY UNWIN

Have you ever fall in love?

TANGERINE

Cold cold man

You know i love a london boy

Love

Mr & Mrs Smith

Wife

DAVE LIZEWSKI

Oh my God! I still love you

My girlfriend gets so depressed

ALEXEI VRONSKY

Lazy morning

I just wanted to kiss you

dreamgirl

LAURIE LAURENCE

Love Grows

KYLE SCHEIBLE

Well, my boyfriend's in a band

TIMOTHEE CHALAMET

Valentine

Are they… together? (request)

I love him

Romantic Lover

a lovely night

Damn, I really want to kiss you.

DREW STARKEY

Midnight

I want you and only you

NICHOLAS CHAVEZ

wrong person right time

HARRIS DICKINSON

pretty girl

You mad at me? (request)

JENSEN ACKLES

I have no car

you're my favorite

Stranger

DEAN WINCHESTER

Sweet witch

She's from heaven

JOHN WICK

I love you, and it's killing me

DANTE SPARDA

THE DEVIL

blah, blah, blah....shut up

sweetheart

LEON KENNEDY

I can do it myself

daddy's little girl

Religion's in your lips

you drew stars around my scars

Handsome

Everybody knows that i'm a good girl, officer

Skin care

I’m not ready

Are you drunk?

ANAKIN SKYWALKER

Good father

Nightmares

Sweet Creature

LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTER

discussions

You can't catch me now

Date

Fatherhood

PAUL ATREIDES

Are we allies or enemies?

PIETRO MAXIMOFF

Boyfriend

SERGEI KRAVINOFF

You're too sweet for me

BUCKY BARNES

PETER PARKER

Are you flirting or starting a fight?

i'm in love with an idiot

Miss Stark

I change my hair every week

MILES MORALES

Something about you

DICK GRAYSON

i like pizza

JASON TODD

And she feels like home

it's a bad idea, right?

MARAUDERS

We'll be friends forever

Messy

Wrong Date

Charles Leclerc x Reader

You sigh, adjusting the hem of your dress as you step into the dimly lit, extravagant restaurant. The chandeliers overhead sparkle like tiny galaxies, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you. This was a mistake. You didn’t even want to be here, but your friends had practically shoved you into a taxi, insisting that “love comes when you least expect it.”

So here you are, waiting for some guy named Marc—or was it Alan? Honestly, you barely remembered.

The host leads you to a table near the window, where a man is already seated, scrolling through his phone. His light brown hair is slightly tousled, and when he looks up, his green eyes catch the candlelight. He’s handsome—annoyingly so.

“You’re early,” you say, trying to hide your nerves.

He blinks at you, clearly caught off guard. Then, after a beat, he smiles. “I guess I am.”

His accent is smooth, French… no, something else? You don’t dwell on it. You just want to get this evening over with.

“So,” you begin, forcing a polite smile, “what do you do?”

He tilts his head, amused. “You really don’t know?”

You frown. “Should I?”

For a second, he just stares at you, then laughs—a warm, genuine sound that surprises you. “I suppose not. I’m Charles. And you?”

You tell him your name, and he repeats it, letting it roll off his tongue. You don’t want to admit that it sounds nice when he says it.

The conversation is awkward at first. He seems charming, but you feel like you have nothing in common. He talks about traveling, fast cars, and competition. You’re more into books, museums, and quiet evenings.

“I don’t get the appeal of racing,” you confess, sipping your wine. “Driving in circles for hours? Sounds exhausting.”

He nearly chokes on his drink, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’ve never watched Formula 1?”

You shake your head. “Not interested.”

For some reason, that makes him grin. “You might be the first person I’ve met who says that.”

“Glad to be unique,” you say dryly.

But then something shifts. Maybe it’s the way he listens when you talk about your favorite authors, or the way his eyes light up when he describes the thrill of racing. You start teasing him about his job, and he teases you right back, challenging your every assumption. Before you know it, you’re both laughing, the initial awkwardness melting away.

The waiter arrives with dessert, and that’s when your phone buzzes. A message from your friend: “Where are you? Marc says he’s been waiting for 30 minutes!”

Your breath catches. You look at Charles, then at the text.

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

You hesitate before showing him the message. He reads it, and instead of looking offended, he bursts into laughter.

“Wrong date?” he guesses.

“Wrong date,” you confirm, covering your face in embarrassment.

For a second, there’s silence. Then he leans forward, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Well,” he says, “if it makes you feel better… I’m really glad you sat at the wrong table.”

And somehow, you realize—you are too.

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅; 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

Carlos Sainz x Reader

You’re sitting across from him at a quaint café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the soft chatter of nearby tables. The light catches in your eyes as you lean forward, animatedly sharing a story about your latest adventure. Carlos chuckles at your enthusiasm, but it’s the way you tug your sleeve up absentmindedly to adjust your watch that catches his attention. It’s such a small, inconsequential motion, but for some reason, it makes his heart skip.

It’s not the first time this has happened. He remembers the time you helped him organize his chaos of a travel bag before a race. You didn’t complain, didn’t even ask—just smiled and dove in, folding shirts and tucking socks into corners as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He’d stood there, arms crossed, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you. It wasn’t about the bag. It was the way you hummed softly while you worked, the way you made even the mundane feel special.

And then there was that night at the paddock. He’d invited you to join his team for dinner after a particularly grueling day. You’d laughed with them like you’d known them forever, making jokes, listening intently, drawing everyone in with your warmth. It was the way you casually asked him if he’d gotten enough rest, your tone soft but firm, your concern genuine.

Carlos didn’t understand it at first. He chalked it up to admiration, respect, appreciation for someone who felt like a constant in his otherwise hectic, unpredictable life. But then there were the little things, the moments he couldn’t ignore. Like the time you’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat during a late-night drive, your head resting against the window, lips slightly parted. He’d turned the music down instinctively, not wanting to disturb you, and caught himself stealing glances at how peaceful you looked.

Or the way you laughed—not the polite, reserved laugh you gave strangers, but the full-bodied, uninhibited laugh that made your eyes crinkle and your head tilt back. He realized he wanted to be the reason for that laugh as often as possible.

It hits him one evening when you’re both walking through a park, your hands stuffed in your pockets to keep warm. You pause mid-sentence to crouch down and pet a stray dog that’s approached you. Carlos watches as your face lights up, your voice soft as you speak to the animal. The way you care, the way you notice the small things—it’s like you see the world differently, and he realizes he doesn’t want to see it without you.

“Do you always stop for every dog you meet?” he teases, his voice light, though his chest feels heavy with the weight of unspoken words.

You glance up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Only the ones that look like they need a little extra love,” you reply.

And that’s when it clicks for him. The little things—the small, seemingly insignificant details that make you who you are—they aren’t so little after all. They’re everything. And as you stand, brushing off your jeans and meeting his gaze, Carlos knows. He’s in love with you.

I can't read your mind

Carlos Sainz x Reader

The low hum of the Madrid evening wraps around you like a gentle embrace, broken only by the murmur of distant voices and the occasional clink of glasses. You stand on the balcony of a sleek penthouse, your sequined gown catching the moonlight as if it were meant to. Tonight had been a triumph—the premiere of your latest film—but your thoughts are tangled, a script with too many subplots to follow.

Behind you, the sound of approaching footsteps pulls you from your reverie. You turn to see Carlos Sainz, his tailored suit catching the light as effortlessly as his smile catches your breath. His hands are tucked casually in his pockets, and his eyes, dark and mischievous, carry that infuriating glint that always seems to find your weak spot.

“You’ve been hiding out here,” he says, his voice teasing as he leans on the railing beside you.

“I needed air,” you reply, keeping your tone even, neutral.

This isn’t the first time you’ve crossed paths. For months, it’s been the same: fleeting encounters at festivals, galas, yacht parties in Monaco. There’s always been a pull between you, something unspoken but electric. Tonight, though, it feels like the air between you has shifted.

“You’re quiet,” he observes, tilting his head. “Not like you.”

You grip the railing, searching for the right words. “Do you ever feel like… you can’t figure someone out? Like no matter what they say, their actions keep contradicting their words?”

His brow lifts, intrigued. “Sometimes. But I usually don’t waste time trying to figure people out. They show you who they are, one way or another.”

You let out a soft laugh, tinged with frustration. “That’s easy for you to say. You live life in the fast lane. No time to overthink.”

“And you?” he counters, his voice dipping lower. “You’re always overthinking, aren’t you?"

The way he looks at you makes your heart skip. You glance away, but the weight of his gaze lingers. Finally, you admit what’s been gnawing at you.

“I just… I don’t get you, Carlos. One minute, you’re charming and attentive, and the next, you’re distant. You say you want to keep things casual, but then you look at me like this.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and the silence makes your pulse quicken. Then, he takes a step closer, his presence radiating warmth.

“I didn’t think someone like you would slow down for someone like me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blink, startled by his candor. “Why not?”

“You’re a star. Everyone wants a piece of you. I didn’t want to add to that. But now…” He pauses, his fingers brushing yours on the railing. “Now, I’m starting to think I’ve been wrong.”

Your breath catches. In his eyes, you see something raw, unguarded—a glimpse of the man behind the charm.

“Maybe I don’t want casual,” he continues, his voice softer now. “Maybe I’m just scared you don’t want anything more.”

The honesty in his words cracks something open in you. You’ve been holding back, too, afraid to show him just how much he’s gotten under your skin.

“I don’t need you to read my mind, Carlos,” you say, your hand turning to intertwine with his. “I just need you to be honest with me.”

His smile, the one that always weakens your knees, softens into something real. “That, I can do.”

The city lights shimmer below as he leans in, his lips brushing yours. The kiss is unhurried, sincere, and it drowns out the doubts that had clouded your mind. In that moment, the world falls away, leaving only the quiet truth of what you’ve both been searching for all along.

My LN4 recommendations💕

(updated May 11th, 2025)

General Lando x Reader

Practice Makes Perfect by @haniette

Love In the Air by @oikarma

Matchmaker by @uglyducklingofthe2000s

You’re Dating Him? by @landoughnut

For Her by @julietsf1

Drive to Survive Moments by @jungwnies

Loud and Clear by @f1lovr

You‘re My Baby Too by @ccsainzleclerc5516

Through Their Eyes by @revolutionsingingintherainnn

To Be Loved Loudly by @sharlsworld

Tipsy and Clingy by @lqvesoph

Curly maintenance by @kikas-cafe

Passenger princess by @fairene

Blueprints by @jungwnies

Looks better like this by @leaawrites

Midnight Rivalry by @wondergirlsthings

Pillow Problems by @throttleheart

Lando x Reader (including the whole Grid)

Serving Yourself Less by @jungwnies

Love Languages by @fallingforyouforeverr

Meeting the Family by @jungwnies

all text posts by @dannyriccsystem

all text posts by @babygirlewis

Static Electricity - MV1 Fan fiction

Hello everyone,

I'm Anna. This is my first fanfiction in over 15 years, so please bear with me and be kind. English isn't my first language either, so I could bet that there are grammar errors, despite me going line by line eliminating them lol <3

Fan fiction and the community of the writers on Tumblr has been something that gave me so much help when my depression was hitting and I needed a safe way to dissociate from the reality. The beautiful pieces of fiction I had been able to read and relax to, have been so crucial to me, despite not realising it until now. All the stories and fan fics have inspired me to do what I used to love yet didn't do in over 15 years. I've noticed how much it also helps with my eupd.

So, a massive thank you and a gratitude (I've searched and manually added because im a dinosaur and not really used to anything other than simple blogs lol) to: @mv1simp @coff33andb00ks @sunny44 @verstappensrealwife @jenn-from-toronto @jarofstyles @kingasly @uglyducklingofthe2000s @onlyangel4 @f1fantasys @f1writingbyme @bunnys-kisses @inevesgf @maxtermind @pucksandpower @madridfangirl @thewispsings @livwritessometimes @hamilando @ham1lton @l3cv3r @coff33andb00ks @verstarppen @astonmartinii @archiverstappen @grogumaximus @jumpthestart @formula1simp @norris55s @eternally-racing @lolapiastri @lqvesoph @reigningmax @leclerc-s @starkwlkr @dilemmaontwolegs @disneyprincemuke @enchanteecherie @il-predestinato @thatnimrodmusician @browniesbagoftricks @verstappen-cult @f0point5 @tommydarlings @f1writingbyme @dreamersvinyl @thearchercore @thefrogsennaneverfound @maxverstappendaily @ricc3rodeo @leqclerc @charlesslut16 @phillydilly @evstostuff @lipringlrh @leclercss @golden-cherry @littlebitsmile @justanotherdrfan @kimis-gloves @piastrification @norrisleclercf1 @leclercvsx @tayytayy12 @formulaonesmut @thedirtygrid @thedirtygridd @vivwritesfics @theemporium @maplesyrupsainz @mariahcarreyyy @lecleastri @oscar-piastri @oscar-piastri-chaos @sinofwriting @peaky-shelby @blossom-works @midnightmagpiemama @nameless-ken @keanureevesisbae @eveningepiphany @0nlythrowharrybeaux @harry-on-broadway @fandom-chic @confessionbrain-writings @writingsfromhome @watchmegetobsessed @be-with-me-so-happily and everyone else who takes time and effort to put the stories out for others to read. I have listed everyone who I follow to show my appreciation for you and your art.

This story will be written in chapters as from a short drabble, I have ended up with 30 odd pages thus far.

Lots of love,

Anna

Without further ado, here's

*PLEASE NOTE: SEXUAL THEMES, INNUENDOS - UNDER 18 DO NOT ENGAGE* (this chapter is very mild so far, but upcoming chapters will definitely include smut. Read at your own responsibility) This is a work of fiction and all charasteristics relating to the F1 Drivers as well as the depiction of their lives are pure fiction (and all the dirty thoughts or observations I had of them lol) . Please do not copy

Static Charge - Chapter One

Chapter One: All about energy and other forces

It all started with a static shock.

It was late rainy summer, closer to autumn than summer, really. Clouds have opened as soon as Y/N had set off for work, without any indication of slowing down any time soon. It was the last thing you needed. You were about five minutes away from a full blown mental breakdown, just teetering on the edge between being able to function or not.

You quickly gathered your thoughts and wits, and after getting soaked for the last ten minutes on your way to work, you succumbed and called for a taxi. Probably only because you accidentally caught your own reflection on the side of the apartment building outside of Milton Keynes. Your hair was no longer neatly styled despite more than five different products that took infinity to tame your copper curls. You looked like you had just left a shower, whilst your white shirt did nothing to leave your black leather bra to the imagination of others.

If it was any other time you wouldn't care about any of these things, or about your heavily applied black liner leaving drip marks all over your cheeks. 

Any. Other. Time. You lingered in your thoughts, as your taxi signalled its arrival with an ever sounding beep that made you jump and dissipated any lasting thoughts. 

After providing the address to the driver and exchanging pleasantries, you have gotten your phone out and started forging a plan of how to salvage your first day at work in so very long, and in a completely new place on top of all that. 

To say you were anxious would be a fair understatement. You had no more than 10 minutes of sleep despite an endless amount of joints and random video shorts that normally do its job and leave you sleeping in less than an hour, tops. 

But this was entirely different. An event in a league of its own after everything you have endured and survived in the last ten years. Yes, you have come on top, current new job being only one of many more significant changes in your life as of late, but it hasn't left you unscathed. It still burns through you every day, despite all the hard work you've been doing in therapy, week by week religiously. You had to set an example to your child, that much you've learnt already. 

Thirty full minutes before the start of your first day, you've reached your destination and couldn't help but awe at the gorgeous buildings in front of your eyes. 

The Red Bull HQ in Milton Keynes glimmered in the heavily pouring rain along other well known headquarters that I have passed on the way as I settled the fare with the cab driver.

I felt all sorts of emotions and ways as I lit a cigarette and tried to calm and ground myself. 

I looked like a wet rat, no, a wet racoon that won a wet t-shirt contest. Wait, but that's American. Do we even have them in the UK? And if we were to, that would be probably only a uni thing. I've never heard of it though. As I was letting the random train of thought take me on an utterly wild ride of stupid and irrelevant thoughts, I was taken back to reality at the sound of low 'Hello' that was definitely spoken by a man.

At the sound of his voice I turned around and I definitely did not expect what I saw. In front of me stood three world champion in F1, Max fucking Verstappen. Fuck.My.Luck.

I gaped for slightly longer at him until at the very last minute I responded with a friendly yet uncertain 'Hey, You're rite?'

'I'm very rite’', thank you' he responded, smirking lightly.

I facepalmed myself internally, damn, not only do I look like I do, I speak the way I've spoken. 

'London rubbed on me I think' laughing lightly. He joined in before long. 

'Can I have twos?' he hesitated pointedly waiting for you to say your name 'please', he asked pointing to your cigarette. 

Shocked and taken aback you said 'Sure you can, never expected you to though Max'

'Oh and it's Y/N'

He took the cigarette from between your fingers as you brought your hand forward to him. 

He thanked you as your fingers brushed and a static shock went through you both.

'So what other expectations do you have of me, sweet Y/N?' He asked with a bright lazy smile as he inhaled slowly. 

You caught yourself holding a breath and gazing at him, before snapping yourself out of it and starting to answer before you thought of it; ' do you want a list now or later? ' you ironically mused with your finger on your chin. 

He stubbed the cigarette and started to laugh, in the meantime you fished a blister of chewing gum from your bag, popped one in and offered one to Max, which he took gratefully saying 'thanks'.

'I guess I'd like the whole list so I can confirm or disprove them so you have a more correct viewpoint of who I am,  so you can make a judgement yourself' he cheekily said copying your move with your finger on your chin, grinning not only with his mouth but also his incredibly blue eyes that you started to feel yourself staring at.

Max noticed your response to him and only started smirking harder.

'Okay.' You take a deep breath. You already embarrassed yourself for the upcoming eternity so there's nothing else you can do to make it worse, or so you think.

'Gym freak. Health freak. Unfazed. Detached. Honest. Unfiltered.' You list looking more at your fingers than at Max. 'Explosive. Big Dick Energy..'

you keep going not realising what you just said so with a swallowed gasp Max decided to toy with the situation and you a little.

'Okay. Okay.' He stopped you gently by putting his arm on your shoulder, whilst looking at you asking for a quiet permission to touch you. You nod and he continues ' Let me start confirming and disproving them all then, given you have quite a few of them.' He chuckles, his cheeks finally returning to normal after your previous, well, revelation or guess at his own personality you accidentally ventured.

You nod happily, blushing. 'Please continue Max.' You smile, not aware in slightest of what you said to him.

‘A little bit but only when I have to. Otherwise, quite lazy when it comes to gym, except for other cardio activities' he grinned and your face started turning a deeper shade of red. ' I eat healthy as much as I can, especially during the season but I've got a massive sweet tooth' he winked as he listed. 'More like fazed less and less by negative, unfair and cruel opinions that used to ruin my days and spoil any wins. It made me feel unworthy for long enough that I've just learnt to stop letting it' he said the last part quieter than the rest. It made you feel so disgusted in yourself. You felt your heart breaking for making him potentially feel that way by not thinking of what you said. 

'Max. I apologise, I really do. I haven't thought of how judgemental and unfair that sounded when I just listed it.' You quickly say looking straight into his eyes. Now it's you putting your arm on his shoulder looking for permission. He gave you a curt nod as he started 'Y/N. It's okay' Max said quickly but you interjected, "Please, let me finish Max.' You said softly but with assertion. He nodded before you continued. 'I hate that I could make anyone think about a dark time in their lives or feel unworthy or irrelevant in any way. I know how that feels and it's not okay. When I said unfazed, I didn't mean it negatively. Not at all. I meant it as someone who doesn't care about opinions and does what he does best unapologetically. I have gone on multiple tirades on tumblr over the years explaining to people why you are the champion who's only starting.' You said pointedly with so much passion in your voice and your face that Max found himself being taken aback by your candour. 'It really is okay Y/N. I promise but I appreciate your honesty and passion' he said, smiling slightly content. 'Oh and I definitely need your tumblr handle so I can read all these tirades as my bed time story' he continued cheekily. 

Your cheeks were burning as you muttered 'not a chance in hell Mr Verstappen." 

'He'll see', he smirked and smiled. 

'What's next... oh, yeah, detached' he carried on as you stopped him ' We really don't need to carry on, honestly' you ramble quickly, embarrassed. 

'I know we don't have to, but let's carry on, I'm actually finding it quite fun. Way better than Twenty Questions.' he said smiling. 'O-okay' you said, grabbing another cigarette before offering one to Max.

' Are you trying to be a bad influence on me Y/N?' He smirked, taking it between his fingers and taking your lighter from your hands to spark your cigarette first between lighting his up and returning your lighter. 'Thank you.' You muttered shyly putting the unruly curls on your face behind your ear.

'Ok, detached. Sometimes, I guess. I detach myself as a coping mechanism and don't always realise until afterwards. Other moments, I just don't care. Especially if there's nothing I can do in the situation or it's an unfair situation.' 'Just "like the inchident?"' You ask cheekily. 'Exactly like the inchident!' He laughed heartily. 'I think honest and unfiltered can go together. I cannot stand dishonest people and I've encountered a fair share over the years. So I do what I say and mean it. Sometimes it's not like I mean it, I just speak before I think or can filter what I say. If you know what I mean' you nod thoughtfully looking at Max blushing. You know exactly what he means not realising yet how true that rang.

'Explosive. Well,  I can't really disagree with that but I would prefer passion fuelled. I am normally very chilled and my Mad Max persona only makes itself known on track. Sometimes.' He said shyly scratching the back of his neck, before a smile took over his face.

'Now the last one and definitely my favourite so far' he looked at you pointedly whilst you looked at him with oblivion and nodded with interest.

' I wouldn't go as far as to venture that I'm big, more like average, I guess' he continued smirking 'but if that's the energy I exude, I'll take it.' He finished saying...

How the hell did you tell him that and not notice in the slightest? He must think I'm so unprofessional, bordering on awkward and ick giving, you sighed with a wide eyed look on your face that you couldn't control . You were cringing internally as you've never cringed before. He was looking at you, as you still tried to get any words to leave your mouth, smiling profusely. He found you and your lack of filter so refreshing and intriguing, despite not knowing you for more than 15 minutes so far. It’s great to be able to speak to someone who wasn’t overly obsessed with Formula One, in Milton Keynes of all places, too. Normally, people would either behave as if they knew him or just suck up to him for their own gain. Y/N seemed to be different from any other person he has met so far, with a lack of filter so serious that it could have competed with his own.

'So, I gotta know Y/N' he said smiling with a Cheshire cat-like grin, 'what about me screams Big Dick Energy to you?'

If you could only get the ground to swallow you whole at that precise moment, you thought wistfully trying to phrase some sort of response for Max.

'Wh- Wh- Um.' She gave monosyllabic answers, still unable to speak until she took a deep breath in and looked him straight in the eye with a low ‘Do I really have to spell it out for you Max?' You chuckled nervously, getting further embarrassed.

He nodded eagerly with an ever present smirk on his face. ‘Will you actually answer or are you going to deflect?' He said eyeing her currently with a challenge that left his lips still hanging in the air between the two of them. 

'Of course I will answer despite the humiliation of the epic proportions that will follow. So I think your BDE comes from your dedication to whatever you do. Sport-wise, obviously! You are very confident bordering on cocky and yet you are so, so kind to others, a truly remarkable human trait. Next would be your appearance and how despite not really caring what you wear, you look fooking handsome and fuckable in any outfit. Rideable thighs and a dash of Mad Max attitude' you continued, too deep inside your head you didn't even realise how what you were saying could be easily interpreted as a heavily unwanted sexual advances for the star driver that HR could fire and sue you for. As you were listing all the things the mental image in your head took you from reality. Why wouldn't it though. In your head Max was sitting on his streaming rig in shorts and shirtless, with his shorts hiking higher with every single one of his subtle movements. His glutes tensing and releasing as his arm were engaged fully in the simulator, driving with ease and perfection. 

'Do you always objectify other men as heavily as that or am I just that special?' Max asked, smirking with a dark blush on his cheeks, as he finally managed to steal your attention back from your own head.

'You'll be disappointed to hear that not only do I objectify other men, I objectify other women too as I'm bi.' You smirked at him, feeling more at ease with him despite the inappropriate comments you've made towards him. ‘Not in a perverted way though! I just can appreciate human beauty’ You added quickly before he could consider getting a restraining order (or Non-molestation order) against you.

' You are right. I am disappointed. I think I should be a sole victim of your objectification from now on. That way all other potential victims are okay.' He laughed heartily with adorable crinkles around his eyes. ‘So, you think that I’m beautiful?’ He asked teasing you and prolonging your torture as he smiled lazily and took a small step in your direction.

'How extremely selfless and philanthropic of you Maxie, to take all that burden on yourself for the betterment of others.' You winked and laughed and he joined in too. ‘Do I really need to blow your ego up any further though? You own mirrors so you must have encountered your beauty by now.’ You finished quietly and subconsciously started biting your lip to ground yourself and stop your face from turning darker than it already was.

'Maxie? Are we friends who give each other nicknames already? We've just met'. He teased, ‘but yes, I’m incredibly humble and altruistic’ he winked. ‘I do own mirrors, but we must be seeing completely different things Y/N.’ He finished quietly struggling to look into your eyes when his sight was drawn to your bitten lip. He breathed deeply, seeing as your teeth were drawing blood, yet you stood in front of him completely nonchalant.

You rolled your eyes and said 'We have only just met yet we were discussing your Big Dick Energy moments before. Figures.' You shrugged your shoulders as you smiled lazily before continuing ‘You are a gorgeous human being, but don’t let all these compliments get to your head though Maxie. ’ As soon as you finished speaking, your breathlessness increased and you automatically carried on the assault on your bottom lip just as moments before.

'That we did.' He smiled with content. 'It's so interesting to see myself through your assumptions and guesses, even when some of them are incorrect.' He smiled mischievously. ‘All these compliments were enjoyable and boosted my ego quite a bit, just in time for the upcoming races. For some of the things though we’ll agree to disagree Y/N’ He laughed as you rolled your eyes at him dramatically.

'Now it's only fair for you to comment about any assumptions I've made of you so far. What do you think, Y/N? He asked somewhat cheekily and it made you only worry about what first impressions you must have given him; Inappropriate. Unprofessional. Dirty minded. Unfiltered. Odd. I was still deep in my thoughts, with a deep sigh that left my lips being the only sound that I’ve given as a response to Max’s suggestion, when Max's voice brought me to reality.

'Introverted. Extremely intelligent. Kind,' he carried on with his list looking you straight in the eyes, 'caring, artistic and passionate.’ He ended. ‘So, how far off am I?’ He asked with a small, gentle smile as he kept his unwavering gaze on you.

‘Introverted - Absolutely spot on!’ You nodded feverishly ‘after any human interaction I need to recharge my social battery alone. I enjoy my own company a little bit too much, but I know it’s a comfort thing as my therapist says.’ Max thoroughly nods, waiting for you to speak. ‘I wouldn’t say “extremely” intelligent.’ You rolled your eyes purposefully.‘I enjoy learning and succeeding so take it as you will.’ ‘ I think you’re being very modest’ Max said looking you in the eyes, as you tried to avert your gaze and failed.

‘Thank you Maxie but perhaps we should agree to disagree as you have mentioned previously’ You shyly and quietly thanked him, hating the attention and all the compliments. It’s not like you hated it as much as you struggle to deal with it and end up being the most random and weird version of yourself. Been there, done that. ‘No need. I meant it, and there’s nothing to disagree about. You’re simply lovely and exceptionally bright, but please continue’. You nodded with a dark crimson still on your cheeks and took a deep breath before you carried on ‘I think I am kind.’ You said quietly as if afraid to be heard. ‘I try to be the kind of person that makes me and my boy proud, so I do try to treat others to the best of my abilities, not always succeeding. Sadly though, I should probably add gullibility here, as people do try to take the advantage of my kindness and take it for granted.’ You finished sadly and quietly with glassy eyes as your tears threatened to fall. 

‘It’s okay Schat, that’s people’s fault not yours. Despite being taken advantage of in the past, you still give all of yourself to others. That’s a remarkable trait.’ Max said gently squeezed your shoulder. ‘What’s next?’ you wondered as you wiped your eyes ‘Caring can probably go together with Kindness as I feel you can’t have one without the other.’ Max nodded thoughtfully. ‘Okay, so artistic. I would have to agree, art helps me to process and make sense of the world. It calms me and makes me feel better. I paint, draw, sing and write. Anything that allows me to present the chaos that’s happening in my head in a meaningful and personal way. Making art gives me joy and I love when that joy spreads.’ Passion was seeping at your seams as you listed your coping mechanism. ‘I love the community I am a part of, that has not only welcomed and accepted me, but also encouraged me to share my writing and develop as a writer thanks to them.  Are you artistic at all Maxie?’ You paused your rambling with a gentle smile on your face as you questioned. 

‘No, I cannot say I am at all, Y/N, but I do appreciate the art in the world and the beauty of it. I know it can be a vessel for emotions as my sister, Vic, is very artistic also. I’m glad to hear that you use it as a way of release.’ Max smiled kindly. ‘Maybe one day, I will be lucky enough that you’ll share your writing with me’ He encouraged. Well, I knew full well that it wouldn’t be happening at all or any time soon, at least. You were working on your novel and poetry at the same time as writing raunchy fanfictions about Formula One drivers and footballers. If that ever got out, you’d never live it down and would be teased mercilessly for eternity. I hummed in a bid to answer him and yet to avoid any agreement and therefore a possibility to lie to Max. ‘Now for the last one on the list so far, passionate.’ Max remembered with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘I’d probably say it’s partially being passionate and partially being very ambitious and fighting with myself to get what I want. Sometimes I feel like I treat my beliefs and morals too seriously, as I will not cease fighting until everything is fair and equal. Very idealistic, I know. I want to make a small impact on this planet during the short amount of time I’m here. Not selfishly for myself, though, for the upcoming generations’ You said, somewhat ashamed of yourself and your outlook on life. ‘That’s beautiful Y/N, and you should be proud of it rather than ashamed. There’s plenty of people on this planet who are bitter, hateful and angry for no reason. You see the good, even when there’s plenty of bad. Hold onto that no matter what.’ Max said seriously. Your soaked curls fell onto your forehead and Max took the opportunity to gently push them behind your ear. During your conversation (or bonding session, if you will) with Max, I was in a bubble where nothing else mattered. To the point that I haven’t noticed that it stopped raining, despite the heavy fog and dark rain clouds that surrounded you.  ‘ I would argue I was actually very spot on with my assumptions of you.’ Max teased.

‘I can't disagree with you here Max, despite that I think you went quite heavy on the compliments there. You wouldn’t want me to get a big head and an overblown ego now, would you?’  you said shyly, giving him a small smile.

(for the purpose of this story Red Bull HQ isn’t a standalone building away from any other building. In this story, RB HQ has multiple Companies’ Headquarters in the same vicinity, somewhat like if you imagine any UK high street, but in a building complex, if that makes sense. If it doesn’t, I’ll go as far as drawing it out. Lmao)

Both of your gazes lingered on each other as you were stuck in a trance and unable to get the words out. You stood there for a moment longer and as Max was thinking of a response, your alarm ringtone snapped your attention back to reality. 'Holy fucking shit!' You've exclaimed worriedly ' It's 8.55 am and I start work in five minutes' you started stubbing your cigarette butt flustered. ' It's okay Y/N. You're not late and you still have 5 minutes.' He tried to reason with you, 'So where exactly do you work, Y/N?' He asked with interest. ‘Maybe, we could carry on with our conversation Y/N during another cigarette break?’ Max asked with a smile whilst scratching the back of his neck. 'Same building as you Max, Market Research and Media Advertising department.' You smiled with a cheshire cat-like grin. It was now Max's turn to gape a little at what you said. You smiled brightly and winked at his face full of surprise.

'Well, it looks like we're definitely becoming friends today then Y/N, as that's where I'm supposed to spend my day' He smiled widely and stubbed his own cigarette ' Come on, then. I'll show you the way.' He started walking towards the glistening HQ. 'No, Max!' You've exclaimed! 'Look at me! I look like an absolutely drenched homeless racoon with a liking towards punk clothing' You sighed disappointingly. It was the last thing you wanted to look like for your first day. 'But if that is so, you're making a very good looking raccoon, messy curls or not'. He smiled reassuringly at you. 

You sighed loud and visibly and pouted following Max to the HQ.

In the reception Max introduced you to a girl close in age to you, Mercedes. 

Her warmth and kindness made you smile at her as she prepared your ID pass and department issued phone, laptop and tablet. 

It didn't take long before you were saying goodbye to her and following Max to the elevator to get to the correct department. 

The elevator ride to the third floor didn't take long at all but your less than presentable appearance mocked you all the way in the floor length mirror. You had a plan to get here early, find a bathroom, dry your hair and your shirt, even tidy or remove your makeup, but the universe had a funny way of ruining your plans forever and instead you ended up meeting your biggest F1 crush after Sebastian Vettel. Max looked at you curiously through the glass, 'Penny for your thoughts?' He asked.

'Meeting you has gone against my carefully curated plan of fixing my wet raccoon presence' you sighed but continued 'Yet it was a very enjoyable conversation apart from a few highly inappropriate statements from both of us' you smiled and winked at him. 

Before Max could recover from your flirty wink and respond, the elevator doors opened and you arrived at the Market Research and Media Advertising department. Max opened the glass door signalling for you to go first. You did and thanked him for the gesture. 

The reception for the department was sleek and modern with a healthy amount of indoor plants of various species.

'Hi Y/N, Hi Max' said a gorgeous woman with dark blond pixie cut and forest green eyes. 'Mercedes told me you guys were on your way up. I'm Elsa, by the way, and I'm the receptionist for this department so we'll be seeing each other a fair amount.' She said excitedly with a sexy French accent and a massive smile on her face. 

'It's lovely to meet you Elsa! I'm so excited to be able to work here, despite my poor appearance.' You said kindly, though still somewhat ashamed of yourself. She stepped forward and gave you a hug and two cheek kisses, in the European way of greeting. 'I'm a hugger' she laughed ' and as much as your appearance worries you, you cannot control the weather . Unless you're Storm, that is.' She giggled and made you feel so much at ease. 'No, I'm no Storm.  I think Ms Marvel would suit me better.' You giggled. 'What about you Elsa?' You asked curious. 'Ahh Diana, Wonder Woman' she stated proudly without much thought. 'And who would you be Max?' Elsa asked Max amused. 'Lucifer’ he deadpanned 'the misunderstood angel' he said with a grin before realising what he just said. Both you and Elsa couldn't stop your giggles at Max's confession. 

' The Bible version or the TV series version?' You laughed musing making Max blush when he realised that his first choice of a superhero was not even a superhero but the sex crazed, drink and drug dabbling devil with anger issues and knack for punishment.

'Erm... The TV series. I get your point An' he stated shortly as his cheeks burned.

'What a bunch of superheroes we are.' Elsa grinned, 'well, not Max really but you get the point.' She cheekily laughed and her dimples became more prominent. You joined in the laughter as soon as she said it.

Before Max had any chance to respond Elsa said 'If only Maggs in PR and Marketing heard that, our Max would be doing supernatural shit for his marketing videos and challenges..' Max groaned loudly 'What is it gonna take for you to keep this information away from the PR and Marketing? And Maggs especially!' He asked deflated, knowing the battle was lost. 

'Are you suggesting bribery Mr Verstappen?' You gasped conspicuously, putting your hand on your heart for added dramatic effect. Elsa laughed heartily and winked at you in agreement.

'Mr Verstappen? You were calling me Maxie just moments ago when we were discussing my Big Dick Energy.  Why do you treat me as a stranger now? I'm wounded.' He smirked and copied your dramatic stance from mere seconds earlier.

Your face turned crimson red as soon as he said that, in disbelief that Max would say it around his work colleagues. Once again you were rendered speechless as Elsa spoke up 'Maxie, I've heard before but discussing his Big Dick Energy, and on the first day, that's just new.' She said with a smirk on her face. 'Any particular reason for that?' She spoke poking fun at you and laughing heartily.

‘I misspoke accidently, that's all’ you responded with a bright red hue on your cheeks. ‘However I believe the bribery that Max was about to offer, would be much more creative than my mistake’.

Max groaned as Elsa agreed, and just as he was going to sell his soul to the Marvet Research and Advertising department, a voice bellowed, stopping him in his tracks.

'Max!' The three of you turned to the source of the voice, that turned out to be no other than Christian Horner.

Saved by the bell moment to remember and cherish forever, you thought, there's no way I'm letting Max get off that easily after the embarrassment he caused. 

'Christian! How are you doing? How was your break?' Max asked before giving Christian a hug.

'All good, thanks! The break was good but too short as always.' Christian laughed ' and what about you?"

'Yeah, it was good and relaxing, thanks. All I needed to come back and perform for the rest of the season.' Max responded earnestly, earning a thoughtful nod from Christian.

'Hello Y/N, welcome to Red Bull team. We're very excited for you to join our team and we've heard so many great things about your work.' He welcomed you and shook your hand kindly before turning to Elsa 'Hi Els. Things good?' 'Yes boss, thanks for asking' she responded kindly.

'Good! Now that we are all caught up, let's grab some coffee and get comfortable in the conference room B for the rest of the day. There's a lot to discuss and cover and all your insight is more than needed.' He announced on the way to the Conference room B. 

Christian left the room to grab some files and Elsa went to collect the breakfast and delivery for the room.

You put all your stuff on the desk, just as Max did the same. You've plugged your laptop, tablet and phone and as your devices were updating, you decided to look for Elsa and prepare your coffee. 

Before you got up to leave the room, you turned to Max, ' Maxie, would you like some coffee or red bull?' You asked, smiling softly. 

' Don't worry about the coffee and Red Bull, Elsa gets our orders delivered' he smiled, 'but I could do with a quick cigarette in your company' he said.

'Are you trying to be a bad influence on me Maxie?' You've asked, quoting his earlier statement boldly.

'I think you're bad enough without that Y/N' he smirked and winked at you offering his hand to help you stand up. 

'You have no idea just how bad I am Maxie' you smirked as you grabbed his hand and got up to follow him outside despite the lingering tension between the two of you.

The rain subsided and instead of downpour, there was only a light drizzle. You certainly welcomed that change, as rain and foggy weather just made you depressed and stuck in your thought more than usual, just as you were right now. Just as soon as you've sparked your cigarette up your phone started ringing. Unusual given that everyone in your life knew what today was. You apologised to Max and picked your phone up.

' Y/N speaking, how can I help you please?'  You spoke curtly.

‘Ms Y/LN, apologies for a phone call, it's Debora Smith from Central Junior School’ you feel like your breath got caught in your chest. ‘ There has been an altercation involving your child and another boy that he tends to have issues with. We wouldn't be calling you if it wasn't urgent, but your son is in the Saint Elsbeth hospital with his collarbone and wrist broken and multiple lacerations on his face.’ In that moment, you have gripped the building gate and physically had to hold yourself up, with tears threatening to escape. 

‘How has this happened? ‘You asked firmly with your voice unwavering. ‘Well, Ms Y/LN, you are aware that there have been multiple incidents with your son in the last weeks and he has been struggling to settle in our school. Most of the time, we suspect he is the instigator and we struggle to get through to him.’ You breathed deeply, with the rage cruising in your veins ‘ I cannot say, I'm surprised with how you chose to phrase that. I think you are too busy covering your ass, to have any empathy for an eight year old boy to worry about his physical state after he has been, for the lack of better word, battered at your school where I have trusted you to take care of him. Additionally, from his very first day I'm your school I had to inform you daily of the abuse and harassment he had been receiving ‘from the bullies and nothing that you've done about it, despite his adhd diagnosis being in progress. You have failed him as a child and me as a parent repeatedly, and after today's events and what my child had to endure expect a call from my solicitors and a lawsuit on your hands. I do not give you permission to make any medical decisions in my absence, as I'll be there in 20 minutes, additionally I am officially informing you that this phone call has been recorded given the severity of the situation. Goodbye.’ You threatened pointedly and ended the call after hearing the doctor gulp in response.

'Remind me to never get on your bad side Y/N' Max said, not realising fully that your world felt like it was falling apart at that very moment. 

'Y/N? Are you okay?' Max asked gently since you didn't even respond in any way.

You shook your head as tears fell down your face and you experienced a violent panic attack that shook you to the core.

Max was by your side instantly, guiding you to a bench and trying to get you to breathe with him. It was failing as you were fully consumed by the panic attack. 

He knelt in front of you and grabbed your hands in his, with his thumb drawing circles on them. 'Y/N, look at me.' He continued but you didn't even react.

'Schat. Look at me and match my breathing' he ordered in a lower, more dominant voice than you've ever heard from him before. It managed to somewhat snap you for long enough to search for his sky blue eyes. 

' I-i'- I can't. Breathe. ' You gasped, terrified.

'You're gonna be fine Y/N. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm here with you. Schat, copy my breathing. In, and out. Again. In, and out. Let's go, again.' He continued firmly but kindly. 

You slowly started following him looking in his eyes, following his instructions and trusting him in that extremely vulnerable moment. 

When you finally started breathing normally, the tears streamed down your face as you sobbed. Max held you close to his chest letting you soak his Red Bull t-shirt telling you to let it all out and rubbing your back soothingly.

' I have to go right now' you sobbed 'my boy is in the hospital and I need to be there'.

Max took you back to the Conference room to grab your stuff back and to explain to Christian the emergency you were facing. 

All the way up in the elevator Max said nothing. He was close to you, with his arm on your shoulder, but he was deep in his thoughts. 

He couldn't understand how you could be so friendly and flirty with him given you had a boy at home. He thought how lucky he must be to call you his. He couldn't understand how you thought it was okay to lead the conversation into the inappropriate, when you obviously didn't say anything about being taken. Max's head was filled with all the different thoughts about you and 'your boy' that he didn't realise that the elevator had reached your floor. You were out of the door when he realised how deep inside his thoughts he had been.

As soon as you entered the room, both Elsa and Christian stood up away from their work worried, seeing your tear stained face.

'Y/N, what's going on?' Both Christian and Elsa asked simultaneously with an evident worry painted on their faces. It only made Y/N sob uncontrollably as Elsa held her in a hug. Elsa then gently took Y/N out of the room to find her a clean Red Bull t-shirt and a comfortable pair of trousers.

' When we were outside having a coffee break, Y/N has gotten a phone call from the hospital saying that there has been an accident and that 'her boy' had altercation and ended up in hospital with a broken collarbone, wrist and face alterations’ Max repeated what Y/N told him during the panic attack. ‘ Y/N then got very upset saying that her lawyers, sorry, solicitors will be in touch with the place. She then had a severe panic attack outside that lasted 10 minutes and only now is somewhat able to communicate. It was heartbreaking and terrifying.' Max carefully recalled.

'Are they taking a fucking piss?!' Christian had exclaimed, taking Max aback with his outburst. 'How the fuck do they think it's okay for a boy to end up with injuries like that in school?!  He's not even nine! For fuck sake!' Christian was furious, to say the least. Max furrowed his brow as he realised what Christian was talking about.

'She's got a child?' Max asked, surprised.

'Yes Max, an eight year old called Adam. He suffers with Adhd and had been bullied in schools for quite a while' Christian responded ruefully ‘ when Y/N accepted the position with us, she had to move his school. She's done it weeks ago to let him assimilate there, but from day one there were issues and Adam kept coming back more hurt and depressed. I told her that if there's a need, I'll get our solicitors involved but she wanted to deal with it herself. I swear I'm gonna get that school shut down!’ Christian explained.

I was such a dickhead, Max thought. She was hysterical because her world was ending at that moment because her child was in the hospital, yet I was too worried of my hurt feelings to think of her. I was such a selfish prick and I want to, no, I need to make it better. 

'I'll drive her to the hospital and stay with her, if that's okay' Max started unsure. 'Yes, Max, go with her right now and keep me updated. Our solicitors will deal with the school and if that's not enough, I will get my private solicitors involved,' Christian said, still fuming on behalf of Y/N. 

Max saw Y/N with Elsa in the reception and he grabbed her bag and wrapped his arm gently around her shoulders.

'Keep me updated Max! And let me know if you guys need anything.' Elsa said before Y/N and Max left the department. Max nodded to Elsa before getting into the elevator.

Before the elevator doors fully opened Mercedes stood there with a sad and sombre look on her face, 'anything you both need, let me know. I'm here if you need me Y/N' she said, giving Y/N a heartfelt hug before letting them leave the building. 'Thank you' You timidly said to her, so grateful for the support.

Max led you to the parking lot where his black Ferrari was parked. He opened the door for you and asked you to get in, you nodded and got in.

‘Y/N, I'm so sorry!’ ‘Max, thank you so much! You both spoke at the same time.

I hope you enjoyed it! 'm welcoming all constructive criticism and advise! <3 Slow burning so far.

Oh, and the biggest, heartfelt 'thank you' to my friend Paris. If it wasn't for you this story would never see the light of day. Thank you for building my wings up :*

This is so wholesome!!! Everyone, I mean EVERYONE needs to read this!!!

౨ৎ APPLE OF MY EYE ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ fernando loves his little girl. and he isn’t afraid to show that. from her first time in the garage, to her first ever football game. Best of all? Everyone loves girl-dad fernando!! (a smau compilation of fernando, you, and camila 🩵) requested!

PAIRING ౨ৎ Fernando Alonso x Wife!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ none! super fluffy 🩵 (fernando types like a dad, i don’t make the rules) VERY SHORT!

A/N ౨ৎ little camila has been converted into a oc at this point?? i mean she’s been in not one but 2 fernando fics already. unintentionally created a oc haha

PART 1: `` ౨ৎ SECRET IS OUT ౨ৎ `` ,

EXTRA: `` ౨ৎSLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS౨ৎ ``

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM, DECEMBER 2023

y/n_l/n & fernandoalo_offical have made a new post!

liked by astonmartinf1, lace_stroll, carlossainz55, and others

y/n_l/n a little someone is done cooking… welcome to the world Camila 🎀

1,396 comments

user1 OMG IT HAPPENED 🥹🥹

user2 CAMILA L/N-ALONSO HAS BEEN BORN

user3 project verstappen is a go.

→ user4 project verstappen??? more like project alonso 🗣️

→ user5 OOOHH FERNANDO ALONSO!!! 🗣️🔥

f1 ✔︎ the young rookie finally has his own young one! Congratulations you two! Can’t wait to see her in the garage! 🏁

francisca.cgomes ✔︎ AHHH SHE’S SO CUTE! CAN’T WAIT TO MEET HER 🩷

y/n_l/n all doors are open for you 😚

landonorris ✔︎ papaya fan in the making? 👀🍊

→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ no! 🎉 🎊 🎈

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ that’s a orange

→ landonorris ✔︎ no shit sherlock

astonmartinf1 ✔︎ Congratulations to our new crew member! 😊

→ y/n_l/n 💚

estebanocon ✔︎ glad to know that Lance didn’t spoil this one!

→ lance_stroll ✔︎ haha funny. 🫤

oscarpiastri ✔︎ seems i won’t be the youngest on the grid anymore 😅

→ y/n_l/n don’t worry oscar, you’re still my adopted son 🫂

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ good to know 🙃

→ landonorris ✔︎ what about me @ y/n_l/n??? 🤨

→ y/n_l/n you’ve been demoted since you helped lance leak my baby shower 😒

→ landonorris ✔︎ I SAID SORRY

→ y/n_l/n apology NOT accepted

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ …are toy donations still up for grabs?

→ kellypiquet ✔︎ …Max? 🤨

→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ you saw nothing.

lilymunihe ✔︎ officially a milf???

→ y/n_l/n hell yeah 😍😍😋

TWITTER, 2026

INSTAGRAM, FUTURE (2026)

fernandoalo_offical ✔︎

liked by y/n_l/n, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and others

fernandoalo_offical Camila’s first race! Everything's better with loved ones in the garage ❤️

tagged; y/n_l/n

2,348 comments

y/n_l/n @ landonorris why are you bribing my child with hats 🤨

→ landonorris ✔︎ those are very bold accusations you’re throwing Mrs. L/N-Alonso 🤔

→ y/n_l/n then why did she come home saying mclaren is the best??

→ landonorris ✔︎ ….ask oscar?

→ y/n_l/n you lost babysitting privileges.

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ gotta show her the better team 🤷

→ y/n_l/n YOU LOST THEM TOO. KIKA AND LILY ARE NOW IN CHARGE.

→ francisca.cgomes ✔︎ yes ma’am. 😳

→ lilymunihe ✔︎ yay!

→ lilyzneimer yay!

→ lilymunihe ✔︎ …🤨 @ lilyzneimer

→ lilyzneimer …🤨 @ lilymunihe

user6 MOM IS BACK IN THE PADDOCK!!

user7 i love how fernando just posts his family instead of anythin team related 😭

→ astionmartinf1 ✔︎ still waiting to be seen 😞👊

→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ the wife and camila come first ❤️

→ y/n_l/n as it should :)

fernandoalo_offical ✔︎

liked by fernandoalonso, francisca.cgomes, kellypiquet, and others

y/n_l/n quick late summer break :)

tagged; fernandoalonso

3,208 comments

user8 DILF!! DILF!! DILF!! 📢‼🚨🚨📣🗣🗣⚠️

user9 my dilf senses are tingling 🤤

user10 PEOPLE ARE TALKING ABOUT FERNANDO WHAT ABOUT CAMILA :(( SHE LOOKS SO HAPPY 🥹🩷

→ user11 THIS!! YOU KNOW THAT LITTLE GIRL IS LOVED BY HOW MUCH FERNANDO (FERNANDO FOR CRYING OUT LOUD) POSTS HER 🥹

→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ Ella es mi princesita, of course I post her ☺️

→ user12 “she’s my princess” IM GONNA CRY.

user13 ugh y/n is so classy.

→ user14 very classy very demure

francisca.cgomes ✔︎ she’s growing up so fast 🥹🥹

→ y/n_l/n I know! I still remember when she was just born 🩷

→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ and I still remember you screaming and crushing my hand 😅

→ y/n_l/n we agreed to keep this silent 😞

fernandoalo_offical ✔︎

liked by f1, georgerussell63, astonmartinf1, and others

fernandoalonso father like daughter!

tagged; y/n_l/n

2,348 comments

user15 PROJECT VERSTAPPEN!!

→ user16 NO, PROJECT HAMILTON

→ user17 i say project schumacher 🙃

→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ everyone forgot about project alonso 😞

→ user18 look at what you guys did. you made grandpa sad.

lewishamilton ✔︎ already better than most people i knew of on the track! 🤩 🏁

→ nicorosberg ✔︎ …🤨

astonmartinf1 ✔︎ already preparing for that seat 👀

→ user19 yeah, if lance or fernando ever leave 😭

→ user20 LMAO

f1 ✔︎ Future World Champion in the making!

→ user21 a woman could be f1 champion 😂🤣

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ imagine bullying a little girl @ user21

→ landonorris ✔︎ imagine hating on a little girl that could kick your ass in karting @ user21

→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ imagine feeling the need to say something out of your ass because your jealous she can be better than you @ user21

→ carlossainz55 ✔︎ imagine being such a lowlife @ user21

→ charles_leclerc ✔︎ imagine being such a piece of shit @ user21

→ lance_stroll ✔︎ imagine taking your anger on a girl who’s father loves her enough to put her into something she loves and you couldn’t because your father left for milk and never came home after 40+ years. @ user21

view 1239 more comments by alexalbon, lewishamilton, yukitsunoda, and others?

→ user22 watching the grid defend camila and degrade this middle-aged man is the highlight of my day.

→ y/n_l/n couldn’t have asked for better friends 🥹

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n my babies ❤️

tagged; fernandoalonso, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer

3,208 comments

oscarpiastri ✔︎ mama e papa

→ user23 NOT FERNANDO AND Y/N ADOPTING OSCAR AND LILY

→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ mi amor, you do know that oscar and lily aren’t our children right?

→ y/n_l/n what do you mean i literally birthed them out of my vagina??

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ wait wouldn’t that make her my sister and not… my girlfriend..? 😬

→ y/n_l/n i take it back i didn’t birth them out from inside of me

user24 the family we didn’t know we needed

user25 HER FLUFFY DRESS.

→ y/n_l/n alexandra picked it out! she taste in fashion is impeccable ❤️

→ alexandrasaintmleux ✔︎ always happy to help out! it was the best having camila with us during the ceremony 🩷

user26 the way she sat on Fernando’ss laop the whole time and clapped when everyone started clapping 😭

→ user27 AND WHEN SHE WOULD SAY HI TO THE DRIVERS ON THE STAGE WHEN THEY WERE CALLED UP

→ user28 everyone loves camila l/n-alonso

maxvertsappen1 ✔︎ stop she is so cute im crying 😭😭😭😭😭😭🥹🥹😞😞😓😓😔😔😔🫶🤌🥰

→ charles_leclerc ✔︎ max how drunk on alcohol are you right now?

→ maxvertsappen1 ✔︎ 5’11

→ landonorris ✔︎ HE SAID DRUNK NOT HIGH YOU MUPPET 💀

fernandoalo_offical ✔︎

🎵 Slipping Through My Fingers - ABBA

liked by lewishamilton, yukitsunoda, felipedrugovich, and others

fernandoalonso ¡Creciendo tan rápido! First day of school already! 🏫 Camila even got asked what she wanted to be when she grew up and said she’d like to be a engineer ❤️

tagged; y/n_l/n

2,348 comments

user29 THE SONG.

→ user30 NONONO I CAN’T DO THIS. NOT WITH THIS SONG :(

→ user31 “Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning”

→ user32 “Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile”

→ landonorris ✔︎ ENOUGH OF THIS YOU MONSTERS.

oscarpiastri ✔︎ i can you you crying from your hotel room @ landonorris

→ landonorris ✔︎ LEAVE ME ALONE LET ME CRY IN PEACE.

user33 mama mia core 😭

user34 i just watched a child grow up. i feel so old.

landonorris ✔︎ i swore she was just born 4 months ago

→ y/n_l/n and i swore i saw you bribbing her to be a mclaren fan not too long ago too! 😊

lance_stroll ✔︎ will miss seeing her in the garage 😞

→ y/n_l/n Camila says she’ll miss you too Lancey 💚

→ user37 MORE LACEY STROLLY AND CAMILA CONTENT 🗣️

user35 SHE 😭 WANTS 😭 TO 😭 BE 😭A 😭 ENGINEER

user36 mark my words she will be in f1 one way or another.

kellypiquet ✔︎ the absolute cutest. can’t wait for her a P to hang out again sometime soon!

♥️ liked by Author!

→ y/n_l/n planning the next play date already!

TWITTER, 204?

INSTAGRAM, 204?

camila_y/nalonso has made a new post!

camila_y/nalonso truly a honor for my dream to come true. from being a little girl watching everything happen, to finally working on everything happening. ¡Vamos, McLaren! (P.S Thank you Uncle Lando for getting me into McLaren 🧡 )

tagged; mclaren

3,405 comments

fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ Esa es mi chica. ❤️ (That's my girl.)