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#formula 1 live online

electricleclerc · 1 year

Note

Throwing it back a wee bit as I’ve read a post regarding this today and made me wonder.

Who do you think ended Charles & charlottes relationship and more so why? I thought they were heading for marriage kids etc especially with one of his best friends having a baby.

I have to admit he didn’t seem happy in many of their photos compared to fan ones.

Do you think he will whore about or settle down again soon.

Much love ❤️

i don’t and won’t speculate. it’s not my place, our frankly any of our places as to why their relationship ended.

fans need to learn boundaries, these are their private lives and it’s not our place to speculate, create drama, chase people off the internet because fans think they’re entitled to know everything about their relationships, we’re not entitled to shit. it’s not our place.

also “not looking happy in photos” ? if my job was constantly in front of a camera, i wouldn’t enjoy taking photos in my personal life either. that doesn’t mean he wasn’t happy?! i’ve heard this so many times and shows how little people use their critical thinking skills.

social media is such a small portion of our lives, posting or not posting. stop speculating on someone else’s relationship. especially one that ended where they explicitly asked to respect the privacy of people involved.

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needstoshop · 2 months

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#gold #luxury living #online shopping #sales #luxury #purfume #fine jewellery pieces #fragrance #ferrari #formula one #scuderia ferrari #forza ferrari #formula 1 #italian #italian food #lavender

0 notes

hemmingsleclerc · 5 months

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A Livestream to remember

☆Pairing:Dad!charles leclerc x Mom!fem!reader

☆warnings: fluff

☆summary: Where your daughter interrupts Charles' livestream without realizing it

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon in Monaco, and Formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc was at home with his girlfriend, Y/N. The sound of raindrops hitting the windows provided a relaxing background as Charles decided to relax with a live stream of his favorite video game.

As he settled into his gaming chair, the soft glow of the computer screen illuminated his focused expression. The virtual race was intense, and fans from around the world joined the live stream to witness Charles in action.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Y/N was busy with her own activities when she heard the familiar sounds of Charles's excited commentary coming from the gaming room. Curiosity sparked, she decided to join in on the fun.

Y/N opened the door quietly and peered into the room, where she found Charles deeply engrossed in the game. A smile played on her lips as she watched him, but before she could announce her presence, a tiny figure entered the room.

Their daughter, a bundle of energy and joy, toddled into the room with a mischievous grin on her face. Charles, still engrossed in the virtual race, didn't notice her at first. The little girl approached the gaming setup with wide-eyed wonder, her curiosity piqued by the colorful lights and sounds.

When the little girl reached the gaming chair, she happily climbed onto Charles's lap, capturing the attention of both the livestream audience and Charles himself. Fans erupted in cheers and comments, her excitement palpable as she witnessed an unexpected guest interrupting.

@charlesfanpage OMG LOOK IT'S EMMA!!!!😍😍

@thelordperceval NO WAY STOP IM GONNA CRY OF CUTENESS

@y/nandcharles EMMAAAAA!!!😭💕

Charles, momentarily stunned, looked down to find his daughter giggling and clapping her hands. A radiant smile spread across his face as he realized the delightful interruption. He took off his gaming headset and lifted his daughter into his arms, holding her close.

"Looks like we have a surprise guest, guys!" Charles announced with pure joy in his voice and giggling. The live chat exploded with heart emojis and messages expressing delight at the adorable intrusion.

Y/N, now standing in the doorway, shared a knowing look with Charles. Their daughter, oblivious to the online audience, continued to babble happily, stealing the spotlight from the virtual race.

The live stream transformed into a heartwarming family moment as Charles interacted with his daughter, answering fan questions about fatherhood and sharing anecdotes of their playful adventures. The unexpected interruption turned the gaming session into a memorable and endearing experience, leaving fans with a new appreciation for the charismatic Formula 1 driver's off-track personality.

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verstappen-cult · 4 months

Note

gonna take up on the request opening bc i love these lil blurbs you do with your moodboards! maybe "how they defend you online" esp charles and lando but if you feel like adding others its up to you !!

THE BOYS DEFENDING YOU FROM ONLINE HATE | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando was streaming when you came home one day. once he heard the front door being closed and then your footsteps, he excused himself with his friends and viewers and went to greet you. when he came back, there were several texts from his friends letting him know of some not-so-friendly comments about you. suddenly, lando had something else to do and ended the whole thing. he did not tell you anything, lando simply waited until his next stream for what he wanted to do. it was very simple and definitely something lando would do; and staring right into the camera lando let the world know that if they don’t support his relationship, then he just doesn’t want their support at all. from then on, lando just blocked everyone who didn’t have anything good to say. you’re the most important person in his life, how can anyone hate you? and so, lando made a promise to himself: show the world the amazing girl you are.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

even way before you started dating charles, receiving hateful comments and messages was a common occurrence. of course your boyfriend knew about it, everyone could see what was happening just by choosing a random picture on your instagram and reading the replies. it was sad, awful. but you didn’t want charles to do anything, you stopped him a lot of times because you didn’t want to bring too much attention into the whole thing. charles loves you and that is all that matters to you. it was, well, okay… until things became a little to real, a little too much, and charles couldn’t sit back and do nothing. so with a little bit of help from his team, he managed to write a very good and long statement about the whole thing. there were mixed opinions but things quiet down a little. and you weren’t happy at first, but something as simple as seeing your comment section hate-free made you forgive him sooner.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar is a man of very few words and never engages in online drama or gossip. if and when he’s online, oscar just wants to see cute and funny videos. he’s a formula one driver and people should only be interested in that part of his life, but he knows that will never be the case. however, he’s still surprised to see various comments around twitter about you. they are not about how beautiful or intelligent you are or how happy you seem to make oscar with your pretty smile and sense of humor – not that they would know that. not that they deserve to know that, either. some part of him wants to reply to those people who definitely don’t know you, he’s angry, disgusted. and the rational part of him tells him to simply don’t say anything because they don’t deserve it. so, oscar just clicks to make a new tweet and begins with a simple phrase “you don’t know anything about me or my life…” and so on. maybe he sounded a little harsh, maybe things will get worse; he couldn’t care less, as long as you’re not mad with him, he can live with being the center of the drama. oscar will never let anyone disrespect you.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max doesn’t care what people think and have to say about him, that ship has sailed a long time ago. but he can’t ignore when people say mean things about you, he just can’t, so, he doesn’t. max replies to every single tweet and comment on both his and your instagram that he sees, he goes directly to the point and if he’s mean then, who cares? maybe it’s a little bit childish but he doesn’t care, max will not allow anyone to talk shit about his girl. and if he needs to make a video or do an interview or whatever he needs to do to make people understand that you are part of his life and forever will be, then he will be more than happy to do them. max is almost never online, so when all of this happens he makes sure to make time to be online, to post a picture of you on his instagram story, to post a photo of your vacation together on his feed, to say how much he loves you via twitter, to mention you when he has the chance during an interview. he loves making you blush and seeing you trying to hide your smile when you see all those things. max also loves pissing people off.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

alex tries to be friendly. when he sees someone say something not good about his girlfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to prove them wrong and defend you. he knows you’re more than capable of doing it and has seen you doing it before; he loves it. but there’s this something inside of him trying to break free and just let everyone know the funny, pretty, amazing, kind girl he’s lucky to call his girlfriend. so, alex lets it free and goes liking, retweeting and replying to every single comment about you and how shiny and nice your hair is, how you seem to make alex so happy and how he’s always smiling around you (he makes sure to let them know why is that), how lucky alex is to have you by his side, and so on and on and on until there’s nothing more for him, until he can’t think about the mean things people said, until you are laughing next to him and calling him obsessed and kissing him like your life depends on it.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel chooses a catchy song and changes some of the lyrics, then sets his phone down and sits with a big smile and his guitar. when the video starts, he simply says “this is dedicated to all of the assholes thinking that is okay to hate on someone’s girlfriend just because.” and then he starts singing. there are a lot of bad words and cursing and long pauses looking directly into the camera without losing that big and pretty smile he has. daniel then uploads the video to all his platforms with a little paragraph about why bullying is bad and why you should mind your own business because he’s not that interesting anyway and it won’t make him break up with you because some trolls are practically begging him to. he ends up getting in trouble for not consulting with his team before doing what he did, something that has him going viral, so viral that people outside of formula one and people who don’t even who he is talk about it. exactly what he wanted.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

the moment mick has to hold you in his arms as you cry because you’d read something mean about you, it’s the exact moment he decides to do something about it. he doesn’t want to cause drama or make things worse, so, it takes him a little while and some long calls with his sister to know what to do. mick puts the poetry classes you two take a few months ago to good use and writes the most beautiful and romantic poem you and everyone would ever read. it is about you, about his love for you, about what you mean to him and everything he likes about you. he posts a little phrase to his instagram stories and sets a time and day for when it will be posted it. when the day cames and you get to read it, you end up crying again but for a whole different reason. it’s not that you didn’t know mick loved you but it’s the gesture, the time he spent doing it, the fact that he wanted to do it and wanted the whole world to read his love letter to you, something that will forever be there.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo blurb #alex albon x reader #mick schumacher x you #alex albon imagine #oscar piastri fanfic

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delulujuls · 21 days

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loverboy | ln4

hi, i finally wrote second part for tinder buddies! im not sure if i like it though, i've got an idea but i dont know how it went.

anyway please enjoy and lets cross our fingers for japan win for this loverboy!

i will let myself tag everyone who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @mickslover @formula-1-04 @petitefaeries @bayleewatts67 @xjval @kapsylia @teamnovalak @slutforln4 @shimmermotorsport @myownwritings @maydiamondsinthenightsky @mikadojohnny

summary: when it turned out that Lando is more of a loverboy than a fuckboy and there is no point in trusting appearances because they tend to be misleading

warnings: none

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N looked as if she had seen a ghost. She clenched her phone in her hand and glanced at the spot where Lando had been just a moment ago. Yes, that Lando, with whom she had a brief interview a few seconds ago, Lando Norris, who drives for McLaren, her Tinder buddy with whom she's been exchanging explicit messages for over a month now, and who knows more about her body seen through the camera than any guy she's had the chance to flirt with in person.

The girl only snapped out of it when the camera operator she had been filming with nudged her shoulder.

"The team bosses' interview is about to start, I saved us seats."

She quickly nodded and tucked the microphone into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She glanced at the McLaren garage one last time before heading to the conference. After all, she was here because she had duties.

As she took her place among the crowd of other journalists, instead of focusing on coming up with questions, she picked up her phone again. It immediately unlocked to her conversation with Lando, and she hastily replied to his latest, unambiguous proposition.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment. If you want, we can meet later in the evening."

Lando was scrolling through Instagram when a new message popped up in his notifications. He smiled and swiped it open, reading and replying quickly.

"i'd be honored. give me the address of the hotel you're at. and be ready by 9."

The girl smiled and sent him the address along with a note that she couldn't wait, wishing him good luck in qualifying.

Lando felt his cheeks hurting from smiling. However, he locked his phone and set it aside. He knew that if he didn't restrain himself, he would bombard the girl with messages. He was so excited about the whole situation, the overflow of emotions building up in him could easily secure him pole position that day, which he sincerely hoped for. He wanted to present himself in the best possible way, knowing that on that day, one special pair of eyes would be watching him.

Y/N was also excited, but as time passed, she began to feel stressed. Not because she was going on a date with Lando Norris, but because she was about to confront someone whom she may have known inside out but in reality had no idea who he truly was. She was slightly apprehensive about whether Lando would turn out to be as he portrayed himself on his Tinder profile. There, she dealt with a confident guy who knew how to flirt, who knew how to make a girl's heart beat faster. With a guy who focused only on fun and ultimately only on it. Someone who knew what he wanted and sooner or later would get it, one way or another. Now, knowing her conversation partner's identity, Y/N was certain that their online acquaintance might only exist in that dimension. And just as she had realized before, somewhere in the back of her mind lived a lonely spark, nourished by the hope that something more serious might come out of this online acquaintance. Lando was out of her reach, that was more than certain. However, she didn't plan to dwell on negative thoughts because she had a chance for a pleasant evening ahead of her. She had no intention of ruining it.

Qualifying didn't come as a surprise to anyone, as Max was to start the race from pole position the next day, with Charles in second place. But to everyone's positive surprise, Lando closed the top three, giving McLaren the opportunity to start from third position. Y/N planned to text him and congratulate him on his excellent performance, but she decided to wait until evening with her congratulations. She didn't want to come off as pushy or, worse, as a psycho.

Lando, indeed, was pleased with himself, but not as much as if he had managed to secure pole position. Y/N could notice this on one of the monitors, where post-qualifying interviews with drivers conducted by David Coulthard were taking place.

"Great performance, Lando, you were on Ferrari's heels today!"

"We did well today, not just me, but Oscar and the whole team as well. I hoped for more, but you know, the appetite comes with eating," he replied, but despite the smile on his flushed face, he actually seemed not very pleased with the result. Y/N was packing her things when she observed post-qualifying talks out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to perform particularly well today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. I hope tomorrow will be better."

The girl sighed and glanced at the contents of her bag, looking at her phone lying at the bottom. She took it out and unlocked it, entering their conversation. She wanted to send him a selfie, smiling and holding up four fingers with a note congratulating him on the result, but she thought it might be a bit silly. So, she quickly wrote an alternative.

"Speaking of appetite, I hope you're looking forward to dinner more positively than to your third starting place. In my opinion, you did great today x"

When Lando finally had the chance to reach for his phone and saw the message from the girl, he sincerely hoped to see her face again. He hovwever, was pleased with her congratulations.

"i can't wait for tonight. and I hope tomorrow we'll have better reasons to celebrate"

Y/N smiled to herself, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading with the cameraman to the media zone to have the opportunity to talk to some of the drivers or team principals. She replied quickly.

"We?"

"tomorrow I'd also like to invite you to dinner. because i'm afraid tonight may not be enough for us"

The girl felt herself blushing, so she quickly put her phone in her pocket. She didn't manage to run into Lando in the media zone again, but she had the opportunity to gather some more good material. As the drivers began to return to their garages and the paddock slowly began to empty, Y/N and the cameraman also decided to return to the hotel. The girl was absolutely not in the mood to deal with the footage recorded that day, so she was immensely grateful when her coworker offered to spend the rest of the day on preliminary editing and assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as in her current pre-date euphoria, she wouldn't be able to create anything suitable for publication. When the girl returned to her hotel room, she decided to take a long bath. Sitting in the tub, her phone lying nearby vibrated again.

"actually, would you mind if i pick you up at 8?"

Y/N smiled when she read his message. She glanced at her watch. She still had 3 hours before leaving, so she should manage without any trouble.

"Why, have you already missed me?"

Lando snorted to himself as he read her message. He would be lying if he said he hadn't. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

"if i'm being honest, i would like to be sitting with you at dinner already"

Y/N also smiled. It was cute and completely unlike the image Lando had built and which she had in her head.

"I guess I shouldn't torture you that much. I'll try to be ready by 7."

Lando smiled and squeezed his phone in his hand. Now he couldn't wait for the meeting even more.

"see you then, darling"

The girl blushed when he affectionately called her that. She set aside her phone and immersed herself in the hot water, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

At the agreed time, both of them were ready. When the girl stepped out of the hotel, she didn't even need to look around, as she easily noticed Lando leaning against his impressive car. He held a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her. He walked a little towards her, but he had no idea how to greet her. Offer her his hand? Hug her? What would be most appropriate? He didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"Hi, good to see you," he said, unable to take his eyes off her. He bit his lip, but still couldn't stop smiling. "You look stunning."

"You too, but I'm sure you already know that," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were sparkling, brightening up his already joyful face. Even though he was wearing a dark shirt and dark jeans, his hair was slightly disheveled, and she could already smell his cologne almost on the stairs, Lando at that moment looked adorable, like an elated child.

"Maybe so, but it's always nice to hear it from someone like you," he replied, extending the flowers towards her. "Here, these are for you. And I hope I didn't make a mistake and accidentally buy you flowers you hate."

The girl chuckled softly and shook her head, taking the flowers from him and smelling them.

"No, absolutely not. I love white flowers, and these are beautiful. Thank you."

"Phew, thank god," he theatrically let out a sigh of relief "Glad I started off on the right foot."

"I rather doubt you don't know how to behave around girls," she retorted, following him as he opened the car door for her.

"Well, I'm afraid you might be surprised," he replied, helping her into the car and closing the door behind her.

Lando chose a very pleasant restaurant, located not far from the hotel where the girl was staying. The place was cozy and seemed expensive, but it manifested in a modest way, without any tackiness or artificial wealth. He reserved a table in the corner of the room, so they could expect a bit of privacy. Before taking his seat at the table, he pulled out the chair for the girl. She tried her best to remain composed, but the smile never left her face. This meeting and this whole situation was more than crazy.

"I hope I picked a good place," he said, sitting across from her. "I've never been to these restaurants before, so today's choice was largely based on Google reviews."

He admitted, glancing at her uncertainly. But seeing her smile, he smiled too.

"It's very nice here. Your choice didn't disappoint."

"Second victory in twenty minutes, going better than I expected," he joked, eliciting a quiet laugh from the girl. He then thought it was a good sign that she laughed at his jokes. It meant that this whole situation had potential.

Lando was genuinely stressed about this meeting. He knew well how people perceived him and what kind of guy girls thought he was, but the truth was entirely different. His hands were sweating with nerves in the car, and he prayed that the steering wheel wouldn't slip from his hands and cause some idiotic accident. Upon returning to the hotel, he spent over two hours searching for the right place to take the girl for dinner and did about twenty quizzes on what flowers he should buy her for their first date. Since he met her at the paddock, they had the opportunity to talk, and he managed to connect all the facts. He felt like either his heart would jump out of his chest or his cheeks would fall off from smiling. In reality, Lando was absolutely not who he portrayed himself to be and how he was perceived. And Y/N was slowly starting to realize that.

When the couple placed their orders and the waiter brought the vase for flowers that Lando had requested earlier, there was a moment of silence. Both were equally embarrassed, not knowing if it was because of each other or the whole situation.

"So," Lando started, rubbing his hands on his pants, "oh god, I don't even know where to begin. Should we pretend we don't know each other and this is our first meeting? Or perhaps the opposite?"

"I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad we both don't know how to behave," Y/N laughed. "But we can start over. Like it's our first date."

She smiled warmly at him. He reciprocated the smile and reached out his hand towards her.

"Lando, nice to meet you."

"Y/N, and it's also a pleasure for me, Lando."

She shook his hand. From that moment on, everything started to go smoothly. The conversation flowed smoothly, and there wasn't a single moment when there wasn't something to talk about. Lando turned out to be the complete opposite of the person she met on Tinder. He was also different from the Lando she sometimes observed in the media. He turned out to be a funny and very intelligent guy with interesting hobbies, not just those revolving around Formula 1. His big heart and incredible modesty also made it impossible not to feel sympathy towards him. Lando, on the other hand, wasn't really up for this meeting, he honestly had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, he met not only an attractive but also hardworking girl, for whom motorsport was not just a job but also a hobby. It also turned out that they had a lot in common, so after a while, the remnants of stress and uncertainty disappeared, and they began to feel in each other's company as if they had known each other for ages.

Their conversation was only interrupted by the waiter, who apologized and said that the restaurant was closing in fifteen minutes. Y/N and Lando both looked at their watches at the same time and were shocked to find that it was just before midnight, and the past five hours had flown by like fifteen minutes.

"Sure, of course, we'll ask for the check," Lando replied to the waiter, who went to tally their dinner. As soon as the girl reached for her purse, Lando looked at her meaningfully. "I hope you don't think I brought you here for you to have to pay."

"We can split the bill," she replied, looking at him and clutching her wallet. "People usually do that on first dates, right?"

"It would be a pleasure if you honored me to be a gentleman and let me pay."

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"As you wish, Mr. Gentleman."

When he paid for their dinner, they left the restaurant together. Lando once again opened the car door for her, and their eyes met when their faces were inches apart as she passed him to take the passenger seat. When they were back at her hotel, the girl reluctantly glanced towards the entrance. She would have loved to spend time with him until the early morning.

She sighed and smiled sadly, looking at him.

"I know, me too," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. "But we'll probably bump into each other in the paddock in the morning. Purely by chance, of course, not like I'll intentionally run into you, absolutely not."

Y/N chuckled at his words.

"It was very nice spending the evening with you, Lando."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, smiling at her.

They sat in silence for a moment, exchanging silent glances.

"Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you now? Since we agreed that today we're starting with a clean slate?"

He asked, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips.

"People don't usually kiss on first dates, but I feel like I've seen these lips somewhere before, and they've told me a lot of different, indecent things, so I think we can make an exception."

She replied, biting her lip. She surprised herself with her boldness, not to mention Lando, who just saw the same girl who he sometimes saw on the screen of his phone in the evenings. As soon as he got her consent, he touched her cheek without hesitation and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.

Y/N returned the kiss, smiling into his lips.

"Have a good race tomorrow, and after tomorrow's dinner, I'll invite you for dessert."

She whispered, still centimeters away from him, when they separated after a moment. Lando unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, circling around it, opening her door, and offering her his hand.

"I think I can fit in dessert tonight too," he replied, biting his lip and looking into her eyes. She returned the smile and handed him her hand without hesitation. It seemed that the evening was not ending for these two, on the contrary, it was just about to begin.

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n

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marlenesluv · 6 months

Text

Teammates Roommate… (OP)

summary: as max and landos roommate, you hear a lot about formula 1, but you usually stay out of the heated conversations. but when lando and max start posting you online, tagging you, landos teammate, oscar piastri, is interested in you.

pairing: fem!reader x oscar piastri, fem!reader x platonic grid

fc: kurodahana on insta

warnings: i’m pretty sure none, i cant remember if there’s cussing or not lol

type: smau + dialogue

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: landonorris, y/n.user, and 42,013 others

tagged: landonorris, pietra.pilao, and y/n.user

maxfewtrell: roommate reveal on the second slide 😛💅

view comments…

pietra.pilao: my fav gal <3

↳ y/n.user: pietraaa <3

lnfournation: WOAH SHES SO PRETTY

mclaren481edits: omg girl crushhhh

f1updates: THE INSTA DROP

landonorris: not the side eye, y/n🙄

↳ y/n.user: wtv

user7: she has a public insta?? HELLO

danielricciardo: y/nnnnnnnn🤠

↳ y/n.user: danielllllllllll🤠

bigricenergy: y/n and dan besties?

user1: pietra and max are so cuteeeee

f1fp16: she’s so pretty ohmygosh

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 28,024 others

y/n.user: first day at the mclaren paddock tomorrow, kinda nervous

view comments…

oscarpiastri: so excited to meet you!

↳ y/n.user: yayaya!! me too :)

f1updates: she’s literally so gorgeous, how did she wind up living with those two😭

↳ y/n.user: LMAO PLS. first, tysm. and i grew up with max and lando! so we j all kinda decided when we were older to live together

user3: awwwhaha the pic of missing max, you found him!

papayafam814: girllll we are so excited to see you in the paddock!!!

maxfewtrell: i love that second photo!

↳ landonorris: prove it. make it ur lock screen

↳ pietra.pilao: no. im his lock screen

↳ landonorris: 🙄

piasss81: ooo oscar and y/n content!! i’m excited

user8: pretty girl omg

francisca.cgomes: omg our sushi date was so fun🥹 we need to do it again soon!

↳ y/n.user: i’ll see you tomorrow, babe😋 we can get lunch?

↳ pierregasly: no?? you’re gonna steal my gf from me?!

↳ y/n.user: so? kika?

↳ francisca.cgomes: yesss let’s get food😛 pierre we can get dinner

↳ pierregasly: wow thanks

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story:

seen by: oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 24,134 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When Oscar met Y/n, the only thoughts in his mind were how funny she was, how everyone in the paddock loved her, and how beautiful she was. He wasn’t sure if he was experiencing a crush or a heart attack with the way his heart was beating out of his chest when he asked for her number.

Y/n gladly gave him her number, knowing she would probably be hanging out with him again soon. Lando had invited Oscar to stay with them during break, which was right after this race.

Of course Oscar was excited to hangout with Lando and Max, and he knew Carlos, Pierre, and Charles would probably come over at some point as well. But he usually kept to himself, something Y/n seemed to do, but not with her friends. She easily got along with the paddock, though. Joking with Oscar and Landos engineers, getting food with Oscar, Lando, Max, and being joined by Zak Brown.

Oscar didn’t expect Lando to barge into his drivers room after Qualifying though. He had just sat down and was drinking his water when Lando opened the door, where he could see Max and Y/n walk by, probably to the cafe.

“So…when are you going to ask her out?” Lando asked, after he had closed Oscars door and stood infront of him.

“Who?…” Oscar picked at his fingernails, even though he knew exactly who Lando was talking about. “Y/n, you muppet. When are you gonna ask her out?”

“I don’t think I will, Lando. She doesn’t even know me.” he brushed his hands through his hands, making eye contact with Lando.

“Maybe. But if you ask her out, then you guys can get to know each other. Come on, mate. She’s been single for two years now, all of her past boyfriends were dicks to her, and you’re a good bloak. Max and I approve.”

Oscars head snapped at Lando, “You guys approve, do you? Have you guys been talking about this?”

“A bit. Listen, get changed. Put a nice shirt on and meet us in the cafe. Max and Y/n are already ready. Us four are going to get dinner. Hurry up.” Lando said, leaving before Oscar could even reply.

Surprised, and a little excited, Oscar got changed and met you guys in the cafe. He saw you, sitting next to Max and Lando as Max called Pietra, and Lando scrolled through Instagram. You made eye contact with Oscar, getting up and waving him over as Lando noticed, smirking at Oscar.

“Hey, Oscar! You ready to go?” you bit your lip, just out of pure habit? making Oscar look and nod, “Yeah. Are we gonna meet there..?”

“Oh, about that, mate. Can you take Y/n and I’ll take Max? Just easier transportation that way.” Lando said, smirking again so Y/n couldn’t see, but Oscar could see perfectly.

Y/n smiled at Oscar, unaware of Landos planning. Y/n did find Oscar cute, maybe that wasn’t a good idea to tell Pietra. She swore she wouldn’t tell her boyfriend, but the thought of her best friend with a good guy and happy, she couldn’t resist telling her boyfriend when he asked, having his own suspicions when he caught Y/n watching Oscars race pov one sunday.

She wanted to get to know Oscar better, as he did her. “Yeah, that’s fine. You wanna just send me the address?” Oscar asked, pulling his phone out for when Lando sent it.

“Mate, we are just gonna go to our house. Y/n obviously knows the address. We’re gonna watch 22 Jump Street and order Chinese takeout.” Lando got up with Max and said their byes to Y/n. Max making kiss faces behind Y/n and Lando winking.

“Ready?” Y/n asked, grabbing her bag. “Yeah…” The two of them left the paddock together, occasionally getting stopped by fans for pictures, and Netflix to film Oscar leaving after Qualifying.

As they got to Oscars car, he opened the passenger door for her, closing it when she got in. He threw his bag in the backseat, and started the car up. “You wanna put your bag in the backseat?” Oscar asked, reversing out of his spot. “Hm? Oh, sure.” She placed it on the floor in the back and he played some music, light conversation about her school floating around.

“Wait, so you’re studying art history then?” Oscar asked her as he drove to her house.

“Mhm. It’s actually really interesting.” Y/n looked at Oscar, making quick eye contact as he nodded and looked back to the road.

“Do you like it? You seem more like you’re into the history aspect than the art.”

“How did you know that?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. “I saw you earlier on your laptop looking at an article.” Oscar shrugged.

“I do enjoy the art aspect though! I don’t know what I’m going to do with my degree but, I enjoy it. Its better than accounting.” Y/n sighed as Oscar laughed a bit, “Not a math fan, I take it?”

“I’m horrible.” she deadpanned, making Oscar laugh more, her joining in. The rest of the ride was filled with general conversation. Not much needed to be said between them. They had a mutual love for quite, and they didn’t find it uncomfortable. If anything, it was comforting. The slight music in the back, the only other noise being his car.

When they got to the house, Lando and Max were unpacking the food, as Y/n had texted hers and Oscars order in the car. Glances between the two were common throughout dinner, back and forth, and flirting done by Oscar.

Annoyed by the lack of flirting by Y/n, Lando grabbed Max and dragged him out of the room, leaving the two introverts alone.

“They aren’t going to talk if we aren’t there, mate. Y/n is too shy.” Max said, cracking his neck as Lando glared at him. “They’ll talk. They have to. Did you see the way Y/n stared at him as he unwrapped chopsticks?? My god, she’s so touch deprived. I’m rooting for them.”

“Yeah, I know. Hopefully Oscar speaks up, cause Y/n could go days without talking.” Max spoke, looking at Lando as he had his ear against the bedroom door and heard talking, “Mate! Oscars talking to her- oh wait! I heard her too!”

“You’re being a little creepy….move over.” Lando scoffed at Maxs comment, scooting over to Max could listen as well.

Out in the living room, Oscar had turned the tv down so he could talk to Y/n. They ended up having a long conversation, during which he asked her on a date, which caused her mouth to open a bit, nod, and say yes. “I’d love to, Oscar.” Which caused him to smile at his spring roll.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 57,237 others

y/n.user: sunday? no. race day. monday? no. date day.

view comments…

landonorris: LFG. THE SHIP HAS SAILED

↳ maxfewtrell: calm down, mate (i’m ecstatic)

user3: lando and max are the captains of this ship fr

oscarpiastri: my gorgeous girl 💓

↳ y/n.user: pretty boy💓🫠

ferrarifriends: the second picture?!🥹

↳ mclarenfp814: so cuteeeee

pietra.pilao: ugh. picture perfect couple

↳ maxfewtrell: and us??

↳ pietra.pilao: calm down, babe

papayapage1: oscar is so bf in these pics

y/ns.fp.official: UGH SHES SO PHOTOGENIC

lilymhe: my girl crush fr

↳ alex_albon: 🤨

↳ lilymhe: i said GIRL crush. you’re the loml, it’s different

↳ alex_albon: ❤️

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes, and 59,130 others

y/n.user: osc after getting p3 and me and kika on another dinner date while our bfs train🥱

view comments…

user7: being the best wags really does take it out of them. justice for all wags! we love

oscarpiastri: we’re so cute ☺️

↳ y/n.user: ik☺️

f1wags: a couple i would die for

papayabros: taylor swift coded?

↳ yourbsf: mitski coded.

↳ y/n.user: MITSKI😫🫠💓

user5: ummmm, don’t know if i wanna be y/n, or be WITH y/n

↳ user9: the second one

mawfewtrell: CUTE COUPLE ALERT 🚨

↳ landonorris: WEEWOO WEEWOO

f1updates: adorbs adorbs adorbs

y/nandoscarfp: my otp fr

francisca.cgomes: we do take the best pics of each other fr

↳ y/n.user: we really do

oscylan814: papaya boy #81 is taken ladies :’)

↳ oscarsedit8fp: okay buttttt she’s so cute and funny and nice so i’m good with it

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story:

seen by: oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 37,024 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: y/n.user, landonorris, and 382,024 others

oscarpiastri: nyc dates and subway pics <3

view comments…

y/n.user: photographer oscar is here <3

↳ oscarpiastri: im only your photographer tho

↳ y/n.user: i’m not paying you tho

↳ oscarpiastri: pay me with kisses

↳ y/n.user: on it!!

redbullfp1: might be my new fav couple…

brasilll4ever: guys i saw them kiss at the brazil gp and they were so cuteee

f1wags: omggg ours favs ☺️

user8: ugh the way he posts her is too cute

papayabroskis: papaya gf!!!!

↳ mclaren814bae: i love papaya gf!!!!

landonorris: the way me, max, pietra, arthur, and charles were also with them in nyc but they wont post us?!

↳ arthur_leclerc: we don’t mean anything to them😔

↳ maxfewtrell: it’s so rude

f1updates: we all know that if pietra was there, then everyone else was third wheeling y/n and pietra

↳ pietra.pialo: so true 💋

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri x reader #f1 smau #f1 x you #f1 one shot

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angelrari · 3 months

Text

gossip girl · pt. xii

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader

fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hi! i am so sorry this took so long, but this winter break has been hell!!! i had exams this week and i couldn't find time to write. i hope you all enjoyed your holidays and that this new year is a good one for you. here's a new part for you, hope you enjoy it!!! (and, once again, sorry for taking so long!)🤍

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· · · · ·

gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 132.363 others

yourusername see you soon vegas🎲❤️

view all 1.233 comments

username this is so disrespectful...

username right... can't imagine how max must be feeling... why is she posting a picture of charles too? stick to one man!!!!!

scuderiaferrari once a ferrari girl, always a ferrari girl

redbullracing we will see!

pierregasly where's my picture? i know i am your favorite here

yourusername want me to post the pictures we took in the welcome party?

pierregasly nevermind!

username BUT WE WANT TO SEE THEM

landonorris nice colour 😉

username omg i didn't realize she was wearing lando's color!!!!!

username lando really doesn't know how to flirt

username collecting drivers like pokemon

· · · · ·

max was used to the attention, to the never-ending hate comments on social media and to people wishing him misery. he knew it was a side effect of his success and over the years he had learnt how to deal with it. but what he did not expect was to see these insults aimed at you. he was aware of how everyone seemed to be interested into knowing every single detail of your daily life, he knew how public your past relationship with charles had been and how the fans had loved every single second of it. but that was four years ago and he thought that should have been enough time for everyone to move on, but he was wrong.

your last instagram post had been the catalyst of it all. the press had started creating this narrative where they painted you as some sort of predator of formula 1 drivers, even posting polls online of who would be your next prey. and, although, he has never been a fan of social media, a few of this posts still made it to his "for you" page.

the warm sun rays streamed through the curtains of the hotel room. it had been a few days since you landed in abu dhabi. the warm weather felt like a gift after spending a couple of weeks in las vegas. you woke up in max's arms and he starred at you as you slowly moved and wrapped your arms tighter around his body.

"morning". you said and you moved to give max a quick chaste kiss. "how long have you been awake for?".

"just a few minutes". he said while carefully stroking your hair. "your phone kept beeping"

"shit, sorry, i forgot to put it on silent". you moved to grab your phone from nightstand and then rested your head again on max's chest.

"it's okay".

jolie's name popped on the screen of your phone. she had been texting you to tell you she had landed earlier in abu dhabi. she was the type of person to never miss an opportunity to have some fun, so when she had told you a few days ago to tell you she would be attending to this weekend gp, you were not surprised. you had figured out that the youngest of the leclerc brothers also had something to do with this, as arthur was also racing in the city this weekend.

"jolie is asking me to join her for the formula 2 sprint race". you explained to max.

"oh, right, she's came here to see arthur?".

"yeah". you replied. "do you mind if i go with her?".

"no, i don't care, i'm probably going to be busy anyways". max answered. "why are you asking me this?".

"it's just-. nothing". you replied as you draw circles on max's bare chest. "i read an article yesterday about me, us and charles, not a very nice one i must say-".

"you shouldn't read that shit".

"i know, i know". you replied after letting out a sigh. "but it got me thinking maybe you don't feel comfortable with this".

"what exactly?"

"me getting along with charles, with his family-".

"i don't care". he repeated with confidence. "i trust you".

· · · · ·

joliedebelle posted a story

caption: back at it with my favorite two ❤️

· · · · ·

jolie was nervously biting her nails as she watched the end of the sprint race on the screen of arthur's garage. it had been a tough race for her best friend, he had finished 21st after having a few issues with the car.

"fuck". she cursed under her breath. "he's gonna be so upset after this".

"at least you're here to cheer him up". you said. "try to remind him that the big day is tomorrow, not today".

"right". jolie replied. "when does the f1 qualy start?".

"uhm". you started. "in-".

"in less than an hour". you heard a male voice from behind you say.

charles, who was already in his red race suit, was standing behind you. his hair was a bit messy, probably because he had recently changed his clothes, and he was gently fixing it with his fingers. jolie, who was excited to see him, opened her arms to give him a warm hug. afterwards, he smiled at you and leaned in to give you a quick kiss on your right cheek. unintentionally, you felt yourself blushing at the innocent, but adorable action.

"it didn't go well, right?". he asked as he watched the results of the formula 2 sprint race on screen.

"yeah". jolie replied. "luckily there is another leclerc that we will be cheering on today".

"i'm afraid someone here is going to be rooting for anther driver". he said as he stared at you.

"i don't even like gasly that much". you replied and charles let out a loud laugh.

"she is always cheering for you". jolie said. "when you broke up, she would never miss a race and she would get so nervous sometimes that she would start praying".

"oh, really?".

"you didn't have to expose me like that, you know?". you told your sister who shrugged her shoulders.

"well, it's the truth". she said. "she's always gonna be your number one fan".

"good". charles replied. "because i am always going to be hers".

· · · · ·

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taglist: @cha-hot @carlandonorri-s @raizelchrysanderoctavius @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @crlsummer @f1mockingjay @ssararuffoni @au-ghosttype @jointhehunt67 @amalialeclerc @lazybot @kimmchijjajang @roseseraj @ponkaniee @champagneproblems17 @starshapedb0x @aundercover @lqvesoph @coffeewhore18 @coolio2195 @crazysaladchopshop @mirrorball-6 @nataliambc @scenesofobx @stopeatread @woozarts @spaghetittied @inloveallthetime @f1mockingjay

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prettieinpink · 5 months

Note

do you have a diet guideline and exercise routine? i'm having trouble figuring out what exactly i should be eating aside from people's vague "fiber and vegetables or whatever". And finding an exercise routine that works and i can actually make myself stick with and keep myself motivated with. Any tips/advice? thanks!

CREATING DIET & EXERCISE GUIDELINES

CREATING YOUR DIET

Determine how many calories you need daily. Your daily caloric intake depends on your age, sex, weight, height, and activity level. Some online calculators can help you with like this. However, if you’re calculating it, make sure to consider your activity levels.

Then, determine how much of what nutrients you need. If you’re lacking in one, you may want to increase the intake of that nutrient. Or, if you think you eat too much of it, you may decrease this.

The best way to find out what nutrients you need is by a calculator. However, the best form of action is to ask your GP what they advise you. Here are the formulas;

Calculate your protein intake 10-30% of total calories (for adults)

Amount of fats - 20-35% of total calories (for adults)

Consumption of carbohydrates 45-65% of total calories

Recommended water intake 1 kcal = 1 mL

Number of grams of fibre Fiber = (kcal/1000) × 14

Limit processed foods, sodium, sugars and saturated fats as much as you can. While it is okay to eat them in moderation, they shouldn’t be a part of your daily diet.

To create healthy meals that are suited to you, consider your daily lifestyle and what times you feel hungry the most. While I cannot speak for your needs, this is typically what your meals should look like.

BREAKFAST - Breakfast should not be anything processed or fatty. It is the meal you break your 8-hour fast with, and it is the energy you use for the rest of the day.

The most ideal breakfast is one that is protein-rich, as it can help you be more productive throughout the day.

LUNCH - A lean, light but colourful meal is best suited for lunch. This shouldn’t be too filling, but enough so it can sustain your hunger until dinner.

Lunch should be a meal that has lots of veggies or fruits that can energise you as well.

DINNER - I don’t want to sound forceful, but dinner should be your healthiest meal. This is the energy that your body uses to recover and heal from the day you’ve just had.

It should be balanced with complex carbs, vegetables and proteins. However, for dinner, it is advised that you either eat early or eat small.

SNACKS - Light snacks that are filling. Avoid snacks in which you mindlessly eat them, those are the type of snacks which are most likely not good for you and you’ll end up overeating. Fruits are the best choice here.

This is a diagram I use often to measure how much food I need to eat without weighing them or counting calories. To be precise;

Vegetables or/and fruit should be ½ of your plate

Proteins should be ¼ of your plate

Grains/Carbs should be ¼ of your plate.

Adjust this to your liking, but I thought it would help you.

CREATING YOUR EXERCISE GUIDELINES

This is a process that does not happen overnight, even if you want to start running kilometres a day if you’re living a sedentary life currently, that is not possible.

Start by finding small intervals in your day to exercise, experimenting around and documenting how each one makes you feel. For now, just try to figure out what you like and form the consistency,

Then, once you get the hang of exercising regularly, you get to make your own rules. For example, your rest days, how many minutes or hours, what you do that day etc.

Exercise is just another way to fuel your body, and you only know your body and what feels good for it. So I cannot provide any further advice than this. Make sure to start slowly though.

#becoming that girl #becoming her #healthy living #healthy diet #healthy eating #wellness #health and wellness #wellness era #wellbeing #green juice girl #clean girl #that girl #pink pilates princess #pink pilates girl #wonyoungism #that girl lifestyle #that girl energy #that girl routine #diet

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sargeantposting · 1 month

Text

Source / Ibotta

Attention Formula 1 fans: we’re excited to announce we’ve partnered with Florida native, Williams Racing Driver, Logan Sargeant to bring you cash back at top speeds! Logan is the first American F1 driver since 2015 and we can’t wait to cheer him on this season! Keep reading to learn more about Logan’s favorite snacks and ways to earn cash back with Ibotta.

What are your grocery store essentials products?

Kellogg’s, Nature Valley Bars, Ritz Peanut Butter Crackers

What’s your favorite grocery store?

Publix

What do you eat to prepare for a race weekend?

Pasta with tomato sauce and chicken

What do you eat after a race?

Anything I can get!

If you could earn cash back on one thing, what would it be?

Simply Lemonade

What is your guilty pleasure snack?

Ice cream

What US food do you miss the most living in the UK?

Prime Rib

Favorite foods your mom/dad would bring home from the grocery store when you were a kid?

Cheese and Crackers, Apple slices, Jello

What’s your favorite way to earn cash back with Ibotta?

Through online shopping!

Are you more likely to shop from your phone or shop from your laptop?

Phone

Describe how saving money makes you feel in 3 words?

Happy, smart, savvy

#logan sargeant #year:2023

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ameliablakesblog · 7 months

Text

Cross The Line ~ Lando Norris

Prologue xx Lando Norris x Female!Reader Warnings: Enemies to Lovers; Slow Burn; Smut in Future chapters (18+)

Why do we always work to live? What is the point of waking up each morning to just go to work?

Well, that’s what Steph thought about every day, while she was sat in client meetings wishing she was anywhere else but there. It only took one bottle of wine that night and she had done it, she applied for her dream job. The application was ridiculous- full of typos and absolute waffle there was no way she’d ever hear back. Until she got the call for an interview.

Lando didn’t need an assistant. He had done well these last few years by himself. With the help from his PR team and learning from TikTok’s, he knew how to contain his sass to a minimal level and still charm the public. He had fucked up once on a night out. Summer break and a video of him kissing some girl who he didn’t even know worked in Formula 1 surfaced online and now he needs an assistant to keep him in check. To say he was angry was an understatement of the year, he didn’t need an assistant and he will do everything he can to get rid of them.

~Okay this is my first ever story on Tumblr so hopefully it'll go okay! Please like and comment if you want to be tagged in future chapters :) xx

#lando norris #landonorris #ln4 #landonorrissmut #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #formula 1 #formula one #formula one x re #enemies to lovers #driver x reader #reading #romance

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zjpg · 8 months

Text

no body, no crime

summary inspired by no body, no crime by taylor swift

pairing lando norris x este , ??? (reader) x revenge

warnings cheating, death and murder

a/n i hope this is good omg i'm kinda scared hahaahah. anyway live laugh love taylor swift.

Este's a friend of mine, We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine

"Sorry I'm late, traffic." celeste huff and sits across from her friend. The wine has been waiting in it's corked bottle, but her exact salad order was already placed at her side of the table. "No worries, baby-love" her best friend smiles at her as the young waiter walks over and pops the wine's cork

This was their weekly thing, always has been since they were in high school. Hard to believe that the two girls that were sat at this table talking about things like marriage, taxes and alcohol were once two younger girls gossiping about boys, weekend sports games, and hair color. That's just how things change sometime. But the older of the two hated changed. Always has. Always will.

That's why they kept this Tuesday tradition even through college. They always had dinner together, same restaurant, same table, same wine, same orders. No changes. Just the way they liked it, loved it.

"How's Lando?" The older woman asked her friend before sipping her wine. An unpleasant taste makes its way through her mouth, replacing the usually enjoyable red wine once she saw celeste's face change into a saddened and depressed expression.

"Well, he's great. I just, I've noticed some things recently..."

She says, "That ain't my Merlot on his mouth That ain't my jewelry on our joint account"

"It's just... I drink the same wine he does,"

"Merlot," her friend nods, earning a nod back. Lando had money, coming from a rich background and growing up in an even richer future as a Formula 1 driver. He drives on circuits everywhere around the world, from america to italy to tokyo. so it's safe to say he knew their wines. Celeste was the same, growing up in a just as wealthy family, she's enjoyed her moms expensive wines since she was in high school, which was odd amongst the crowd of teenagers that were drinking spirits and beers.

"Yeah, and the merlot we drink, it doesn't leave that red stain on his lips." She lets out a small sigh before pushing further into her point, "And I only wear silver jewelry, always have, but I went through our bank accounts for bills and I saw gold jewelry being bought on his account."

Maybe she's exaggerating, but the more she's looked back on the past few months, things start making sense. Less time together, less sex, quieter 'I love you's. She wondered if he was bored, she tried her best to keep their relationship exciting in many different ways. But nothing has changed.

The older friend wanted so badly to go online and expose him, call him out on his bullshit that Este has been crying about for the past few months. She wanted to end his little fanbase, maybe even his career. But there wasn't enough proof, she needed proof.

No body, no crime.

"I think he did it, but... I just can't prove it"

The next Tuesday cam by and she hadn't heard from Celeste at all that day, nonetheless, she still showed up to their usual restaurant. But after about an hour she made a call to their other friend, Inez, she works with Celeste, they've all been fairly close since school. Though Inez isn't the most trustworthy source, she knows she would get an honest answer as to where Celeste was. "I haven't seen her, I thought she was sick but our boss said she hasn't even called in sick. We figured she just got too sick to call this morning."

But that's not like Celeste. Her best friend had seen her call into their high school to let them know she wasn't making it even when she had food poisoning. She knows that's not the case. She left the restaurant, making her way to the Norris household. "I haven't seen her either, I tried filing a report but they said I have to wait 24 hours." He seemed panicked, like he had been crying and screaming all day long. His voice was practically gone and his hands were shaking more than a small dog stuck in the winter snow.

Hе reports his missing wife. And I noticed when I passed his house his truck has got some brand new tires.

The tires was one thing, maybe he genuinely needed tires. His face is all over the news along with Celeste's talking about his missing wife, but they don't bother to mention his new side pieces that just moved in...

"his mistress moved in, sleeps in Este's bed and everything!" Inez's nosy ass came in hand from time to time. She saw the move in truck when she was making her way to work one day. At first she thought it was Lando that was moving out, turns out the mistress that their dear friend had been worrying about weeks before had moved in.

"I think he did it, I just can't prove it."

"No body, no crime." Inez shrugged, not thinking much of her friends statement, surely Norris wasn't up to anything? He loved Este. Right?

As time went on, it was obvious. He did it. Even the police think so, but rich people always get their way don't they? She starts coming up with a plan. Vengeance. It ran through her bloodstream, it felt like a burning sensation.

"Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen." Everything was going according to plan, it was perfect.

"Hey, Lando." She gave him a smile. It had been four months since Celeste was presumed dead, the investigation went silent a while ago and the whole town gave up hope of finding her. Her name is no longer a trending topic, but her voice and face are still gone.

The racing driver looked at his dead wife's friend with shock but nervousness. He tries to cover it with a mask of sadness, but she knew better than to fall for a man's lies. She was invited in, seeing no trace on her friend anywhere in the mansion that Celeste had called home.

"What are you doing here?" He asked once the door closed and locked behind him. He knew something was up, he was smart but not much of a genius, clearly. "Just catching up Norris," She smiled at the taller individual, "I see you and the new girl are getting along just fine. That didn't take long?"

"It's been a year."

"Took you barely 10 months to move her in." She states back. "I wanna show you something."

The drive to the docks was a good 10 minutes, Monaco is a great place to live when you want to buy a fancy new yacht. Her dad's yacht was nothing compared to Lando's driving competitor, but it was still very impressive. "Your dad's yacht?"

The amount of parties that were thrown around and on the yacht were crazy, it's how him and Este met in the first place. He thought it was a sweet gesture from the girl, though she saw the look on his face the entire time they were on the water. He looked sea sick, but she knows the driver had been on plenty of yacht's in his life, he's not sea sick.

He was quick to realize what was happening when they stopped in the middle of the nowhere on the deep waters. He knew, he came to terms with it, but he was so sure they would catch her, unlike they did him. His name is bigger, his house, his cars, his bank account, they're all bigger. But her? She's simply just... better.

"I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene." Was the last thing he would hear that night. They next morning she would let her father know that the boat is cleaned, smells of fresh lemons and other citrus like aroma's. "Thank you sweetheart, glad to know you still have time to clean that ole' thing between your classes," He handed her some wadded up cash. The monthly occurrence of cleaning for her parents, everything from their yard to the yacht, they are just far too old to do it themselves.

News stations, media outlets, and other headlining articles went crazy after the mistress filed a missing persons report. Lando Norris missing nearly a full year after his wife's disappearance.

"Formula 1 McLaren driver, Lando Norris, was reported missing last night after not coming home from a boating trip with some friends. Officials have yet to give anymore details."

Good things Este's sisters gonna swear she was with me.

"She was with me, dude, I told you this. We all went out on the yacht, he got too drunk so we sent him home." Alana swore up and down her truth, another cover up that will never slip her teeth. Her parents always said she would be a good actor, she got away with everything as a kid. Este used to hate it.

"To his wife?"

"They're married? I don't know, man, I guess. She seemed pretty pissed if you ask me."

Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

She was cleared, no proof, no evidence. they checked the camera's, Alana and her sisters friend helping each other drag Lando's drunken body back in the truck. The yacht was clean, "I clean it at this time every month for my parents, they're getting too old to scrub it down like they used to, ya know?" The maid and her parents vouched for her, it's true, the end every month when it wasn't too cold or hot, she was at the docs. The other boat owners even agreed.

"They think she did it, but they just can't prove it." The news reporter stated as a picture of the now widowed mistress was shown on the screen. The television shuts off as a smirk is splattered on their faces.

"She thinks I did it." She smiles at the younger, chuckling in disbelief as if she was crazy for thinking just a thing. "She just can't prove it. But, like we've always said, No body." She raises up her wine glass.

Celeste copies the gesture with a venomous smile, "No crime."

taglist: @enhacolor @bibissparkles @blueanfield

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bigricc · 2 years

Text

Mixed Messages

Thank you for the love on the sneak peek of this that I posted a while back! Hope this lives up to it. As always, let me know what you think!

It was almost 2 o’clock in the morning, your eyes heavy and head yearning for a pillow to sink into. It was quiet in the arrivals area of Perth airport, save for the occasional sigh of impatience from the man leant against the wall. Your phone had died moments prior, as a result of flicking between an online flight tracker and the text exchange between you and Daniel, waiting for any hint that his plane had landed. Footsteps pull your eyes up from your phone, tired passengers flooding from around the corner, calling loved ones and digging through bags for car keys. You almost think he’s not coming; that this was some elaborate prank to keep you up into the early hours of the morning. But then, there he is. Big hoodie and all. He looks tired, but he’s smiling at you with the same energy he always seems to have.

Before you have the chance to look at him properly, to really see him in a way that you haven’t in months, he’s bringing his palm to the back of your neck and pulling you into his chest. With a groan, he wraps both arms around your shoulders, bending over to shove his nose into your collarbone.

The car ride back to his house is quiet, an acoustic playlist turned down low in the background. There’s no urgency for conversation; both of you trusting that you’ll get to catch up properly after a full night of rest. Away from any neighbouring houses, his driveway is pitch black. In the morning, you’ll help him to make the house feel more lived in; he had always hated coming home to a house that had so obviously been empty for months at a time.

“Will you stay? It’s late.” He was looking down at you, eyelids drooping slightly, his words tinged with exhaustion.

“If you want me to stay, I can.”

The next two days are spent getting Daniel settled in to live back at home. Cleaning, shopping, catching up with friends, and a lot of sex; although that was more for your own personal benefit, and not an essential for his arrival in Perth (he would disagree). It would almost be easier for you to say that things between you and Daniel were complicated. In reality, it was all straightforward. You would keep in touch every few weeks while he was racing, and when he wasn’t, you were attached at the hip; whether it was at his house, your own, or his parents, it was easy to fall into routine. Your first hook up sort of just happened, and it seemed like each one that followed was the same; unplanned and unexpected.

When the two of you first had sex, Daniel was 28 and fresh off of his win in Monaco. Back then, you didn’t know much about Formula 1, only tagging along because he had invited your entire group of friends for the weekend. You knew Daniel had won races before, a few of them in fact. It was entirely different seeing his victory in person. His cocky smile at the after party was merely for show, hiding what you could tell was a lot of emotion. You couldn’t stop staring at his smile.

Daniel, however, couldn’t stop staring at your tits.

Some of the glitter from your friends dress had transferred onto your skin as you danced together, your chest sparkling in the reflection of the lights. Daniel had always thought you were pretty, but thought nothing more of it. Some people were attractive, it was normal for him to notice who was and who wasn’t. This was more than just pretty though.

Later that night, as he fucked you into the mattress, one hand next to your head and the other pulling your thigh to the side, he watched the way your chest moved with every thrust of his hips; how the glitter mixed in with your sweat. The next morning, as you stood naked in the middle of his hotel room, he walked past you towards the bathroom, giving a quick slap to your bum and a “Cheers, Glitter Tits.”

•

On the Sunday after his arrival back home, you were set to meet some friends at the beach for sunset. A few from back in high school, with the addition of the odd girlfriend or husband. You were late of course; the last of your friends to arrive at the beach, Daniel trailing behind you carrying a bag of drinks and snacks. You had meant to leave his house an hour ago, easily distracted by the temptation of his hands and mouth moving over your skin. You knew that he had already caught up with everyone, but this was the first time in months that you had all been in the same place at once.

“Glitter Tits! You made it, baby!” Unfortunately for you, when the rest of your friends found out that you and Daniel had slept together, he found it necessary that they all started on the nickname bandwagon. With one hand, you lifted up your top to teasingly flash them your bikini top, using the other hand to flip them off. Later on, as you squeezed onto a towel with your friend, she asked how things were going with Daniel, and as always, you didn't say much back.

•

It had all started to go south a few weeks later, when the two of you were in the car after having dinner at your friends house. You had handed him your phone, asking him to choose a playlist whilst you focused on driving. In the midst of him adding your favourite songs to the queue, your phone vibrated.

Tinder

Tom sent you a new message.

Daniel wasn’t an idiot, he knew that he wasn’t your boyfriend. It hit him at that moment though, that he had spent the better part of the last 4 years living in some kind of fantasy land where you would never even look at another man the way you look at him; that you sat at home, twiddling your thumbs and waiting for his return. Now, the harsh reality that you could possibly be thinking about anyone else hit him like a slap in the face. Really, as much as he played the eligible bachelor card to the public; occasionally sleeping with and almost always flirting with whoever he fancied, in the back (and the forefront) of his mind, you were it for him.

“Who’s Tom?”

As much as he begged himself not to bring it up, not after the last few weeks of bliss, he couldn’t help himself. Even more so, he hated how unsure of himself he sounded. He had every right to be curious. He thinks.

“What are yo- Oh, that Tom. He’s just this guy I got drinks with.” Just got drinks with. The more casual you sounded, the more insane Daniel felt.

“Oh. I didn't know you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not, Dan. It was one date.” He could tell you were pissed off, you had every right to be.

“You fucking have Tinder, what else could you possible have it for?” Please, shut the fuck up before she kicks you out of her car.

“Jesus, Daniel, what do you expect? For me to just not have sex for a year until I see you again?”

“So, you fucked him?”

“You’re missing the point.” You didn't speak after that. He didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t want to say anything.

•

He hadn't seen Michael in a while, him busy with his own family and friends. He had driven out to the farm for a couple days of training as they got closer to testing. Mid way through a beer on the back deck, Michael had asked about you, snowballing Daniel into blurting out everything that had been plaguing him as of recent. He felt nervous. Him and Michael had worked as a team for year, friends for even longer, but admitting the kind of things he had been was a whole new playing field. He wondered if maybe Michael already knew a lot of this, without him saying it.

“I think about it sometimes, you know- marrying her. Maybe some kids or something.” Daniel’s said it before he even realises the words have left his mouth.

“Oh- I didn't know it was like that between you two.” Of course, Michael knew how you felt about each other, but this was beyond that.

“It’s not, I guess. I want it to be. I don't think she does. I made her upset last night.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, hey?” It’s a poor attempt at a joke; a play on the time he had sent you a ‘happy birthday’ text two days late and you had ignored it for another four, and he can tell Michael regrets it the second he says it. He knows its a joke, but with his brain in the state it’s in now, he’s hyper fixated on the comment.

“What- has she said that to you? That I make her sad?” He’s panicked now.

“No- Dan. I’m sorry mate, it was a joke.”

“No, tell me. Please.” He’s practically begging now.

“Once, yeah. At the wedding last year. She was pretty drunk, we both were. I don’t even know if she remembers saying it.” A mutual friend of yours had gotten married last year. Daniel couldn’t be there, so you and Michael had gone together instead. He wonders now, if you were still sad when he spoke to you the morning after. Or the week after. Or now.

“What- I don’t understand.” Before he can continue, Michael interrupts him with a cough and a stern look.

“Mate, I really think you should talk to her about this. Honestly I can’t- I can’t even remember what she said.” He can tell when Michael is lying. He always looks to the side and pulls at his lower lip, nervous.

He’s pulling his phone out within seconds to call you, your name at the top of his favourites list. The longer he stares at your contact, the faster he can feel the courage leave him. He’s looking for the easy way out. And it comes, eventually. In the form of a text from you.

Can I come over?

His answer is an immediate yes, and with another sip of his beer, he says goodnight to Michael, moving towards the living room to wait for your knock on the door.

You’ll talk about it another time. He’ll tell you how he really feels another time.

#daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #mine

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internetgremlin-writes · 2 years

Text

Flat Spin [Chapter Five]

Summary/Prompt: 1. A spin in which an aircraft descends in tight circles whilst remaining almost horizontal

2. A state of agitation or panic [informal]

As the only female driver on the grid, you’re fighting a constant need to prove yourself, however sometimes the line between accepting help and hand-outs is more blurred than you think

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Female Reader

Word Count: 10,900 i sincerely hope this makes up for the wait

Warnings: smut (deep breath kids, its finally happening)

Previous Chapters: one || two || three || four

“So… when are you coming?” His voice was rich even through the crackle of the phone line. It made your insides warm and if you were in an ’80s movie, you’d have been twiddling the coiled cord of the landline phone around your fingers as you giggled down the receiver.

“What?” You couldn’t keep the laugh out of your voice.

“To Barcelona? To see me?” You liked the way he said ‘Barcelona’.

“Wait, were you being serious? I thought you were just drunk!” He laughed then, properly. It felt like he was right next to you, not thousands of miles away, already in Spain.

“Oh, Cariño, I was very drunk,” You could imagine him, lounging out somewhere in the heat, a dogged grin on his face as he thought back to a couple of nights ago in Miami. You couldn’t help yourself from shifting in your spot on your bed as you thought of it too; of the way he’d whispered in your ear and the warm weight of him on top of you. “But I meant it. Come to Barcelona early, let me be your - eh - tour guide,” you heard him snicker.

“I’ll see what I can do,”

As it turned out, you didn’t have to do very much at all. Your request to fly out to Barcelona four days early was suspiciously accepted with no complaints or questioning from Mike, but it wasn’t until you were back at headquarters after Miami that you found out why.

The week at Silverstone was strange. There was a flurry of activity and meetings around you, all of which you seemed to be blocked from. You spent most of the time there in the sim, getting the Spanish track down to perfection and setting some impressive times if you did say so yourself. At one point Max was online, and you beat him in an iRacing round, something virtually unheard of. Even the mechanics, who you usually got on well with were being surprisingly cagey around you. You figured it must be because everyone was on edge, with Barcelona being one of the tracks you tested at before the season officially started it was a popular choice for many teams to bring updates to their cars and several of your midfield rivals had announced just that. You were finally called in for a meeting, only two days before you were due to fly out to Spain.

Seb was there and you were happy to collapse into a spot beside him. A quick glance around the room told you this was not going to be fun; not a person in that room wasn’t a highly important member of the team, including all the team heads and Mike in the flesh to top it off. Any meeting led by a team principal was never fun, you thought. There was a large platter of sandwiches cut into triangles, an attempted offering of fruit and a big urn with hot water for tea and coffee.

Seb looked at you through one eye, reminding you very much of a cat who'd just had his sunny afternoon nap interrupted.

“Hello,”

“Hi Seb,” He gestured to the sandwiches that were already looking a little sad in front of him.

“I love working lunch,” you snorted, but still leant forward for a slightly stale sandwich as he wrinkled his nose.

The meeting was, unsurprisingly, boring. As you suspected, it was about the new updates being brought to the cars. Now, you liked to think of yourself as pretty smart - you’d managed to finish school with good grades alongside your early racing career, but you had nothing on the engineers who dedicated whole swathes of their lives to mastering the inner workings of formula one cars. Either way, you tried not to drift off too much and managed to gather that the updates looked good, and could give you a serious shot at the Championship.

“Now, one more thing before we go,” Mike was wrapping up and you could feel your pulse picking up as your body decided it, too, was ready to go home and snap out of the carbed-up, warm-room dormant state it had been put in. Your mind drifting to the open suitcase on your bed and if you were going to need a new bikini when you vaguely realised your name was being mentioned alongside a string of other words that when put together sounded an awful lot like missing out on upgrades.

“What the fuck?”

Mike was looking at you, a strange appeasing smile on his face which did nothing to quell your outburst - in fact, it only spurred you on. “What do you mean I’m not getting the updates I’ve just sat and listened to you talk about for two hours?”

“Y/N, you have to understand with the budget cap we can’t do everything at once-”

“But I’m in fourth, I could still get the championship this year,” you couldn’t quite keep the whine out of your tone. You didn’t understand why you'd just been told all about the car that could get you precious podiums and points for the rest of the season if it wasn't for your championship campaign.

“So Seb needs it more,” His tone reminded you of being scolded by a teacher, very clearly telling you to shut up and stop arguing, now. But I could win, you wanted to argue. You’d not been on a podium since Australia and the last two disastrous races were fresh in your mind.

“Is that why you let me take holiday next week? I’m not needed for testing because there’s nothing for me.”

“We need to adjust the sim for Seb to get a feel for the updates,” you snorted. You wanted to lash out at anyone near you, but Seb was arguing too, claiming he wanted you to have the updates over him. Clearly, it was the first he'd heard of it too.

“You know what? It’s fine. See you in Barcelona,” you snapped at Mike and walked out of the meeting.

*****

“I still don’t understand why you need to fly out so early,”

Your mum’s voice broke through your drifting mind. You were sat in the front seat with your forehead pressed against the cool glass window, halfheartedly watching a couple of raindrops chase their way down. She was driving you up to the airport and you felt a small rush of guilt when she questioned your early trip once more.

“I don’t know,” you lied, ignoring the small twinge of guilt in your chest. “Something about training in the hot weather, apparently it’s due a heatwave,” she sighed and tapped her hands on the steering wheel as you joined the back of the M25 traffic.

“How can it possibly be busy at this hour?” She mumbled to herself. Like most people in England, between complaining about the weather and the traffic, there was nothing your mum loved more. You just laughed quietly, made a lazy joke and handed her some sweets from the snack bag perched on your knees. After a brief, but teary, goodbye you were finally at the bag check-in desk with lots of promises that Monaco, where your family always flew out for the weekend, was only two weeks away.

You wondered idly through the duty-free shopping. You didn’t really need anything but it was always fun to waste time there, between buying a shitty romance book for the flight to the strangest gifts you could find or pretending you were a millionaire as you sampled the overpriced perfumes. You supposed you didn’t have to pretend about that part anymore, but you still didn’t care for a £500 bottle that didn’t even smell good.

The plane ride was only a couple of hours, so by the time you’d settled into the perfect playlist and read most of the dodgy sex scenes in your book that almost made you think about taking up yoga, you were coming into land. Luckily, it was a fairly quiet time, and you were only stopped a couple of times between the bag collection area and the taxi ranks outside. You were in surprisingly good spirits, especially considering the power of the heatwave already settling over the country had you feeling simultaneously damp and crusty by the time you’d been deposited at your hotel in desperate need of a shower.

Carlos had initially been adamant that you were to stay with him at his family’s apartment in Barcelona. There was a big part of you that desperately wanted to play house with him, but you couldn’t shake the feeling it wasn’t the smartest idea. Between going from seeing him now and then at race weekends to virtually living together for a week and the sheer number of fans that would be going crazy for him at his home race and itching for a glimpse of him anywhere in the city - well, you didn’t feel guilty in admitting that it all sounded a bit much. You were lucky that Katie didn’t question it when you asked her to book you into the hotel you’d be using for the race early.

You’d agreed on a meeting point with Carlos that wasn’t in the lobby of a fully booked hotel. Instead, he’d sent you the address of a street corner nearby that had a big restaurant with sweeping bay windows and a waterfall of flowers decorating the doorway. He was already asking you when you’d be ready, so you found yourself naturally hurrying along your routine whilst still spending a little more time than normal fussing around your outfit and makeup before deeming yourself ready.

You decided to keep it relatively simple for the first night, with a pretty co-ord set a stylist had given you after a photo shoot you’d done for some women’s magazine or another. You had never been bothered about the non-racing side of fame, but the free clothes that were chosen to look great on you were a nice little bonus.

Carlos was waiting on the corner for you, leaning casually against a lamp post. You felt your heart flutter in your chest as you caught sight of him and allowed yourself a moment to drink in his appearance in the golden evening sun. He looked completely at home, in white jeans and a loose-fitting blue shirt to help combat the heat that was not fading any time soon. He was looking at something on his phone, leaning back against the post with one leg crossed in front of the other and a hand resting in his pocket with comfortable ease. As you made your way towards him his head snapped up, an easy smile spreading across his face as his eyes lit up.

He greeted you with a warm hug, placing a deliberate kiss on both cheeks. It made warmth bloom throughout your body as you melted instinctively into his touch.

“I missed you,”

“You literally saw me a week ago,” you pointed out. It felt good, the way he made you feel. The way now you just seemed to click back into place when you were with him like you’d never been separated. He shrugged at your comment, grinning good-naturedly as his hand found the small of your back and applied gentle pressure to guide you forward. This time you weren't going far, as Carlos held the door into the restaurant behind you.

“I still missed you,” he told you as he sat down, an almost shy smile and a sense of finality in his tone.

“Missed you too,” the words felt a little bulky and awkward on your tongue. Admitting your feelings was something you’d never been strong at, but something about Carlos had him pulling confessions from you before you could catch yourself.

“So," you grinned at him, a sense of deja vu hitting you as you held up a menu in a language that you didn't speak. "Talk me through this," Carlos didn't even touch his menu.

“Paella. It’s not the best,” he admitted with a bashful smile, “My mother’s is the best. But for restaurants? Here is the best,” The conversation flowed easily, Carlos filling you in on his week at home as hoards of his family had arrived from across several countries for his home race.

“How are you feeling though?” Carlos had shrugged, placing the order for the pair of you as if it was second nature. You found yourself remembering your last date, and how every little thing had felt supercharged compared to now, only a few weeks later and you felt like you'd been going out to dinner with him all your life.

"Hm, it's a lot of pressure," you nodded, catching the fleeting look of something other than total confidence in his eyes. "But you know, the car is good, I'm feeling good in it. I know the circuit so well. Home races are always special,"

The restaurant was pretty quiet, and you'd been given a slightly secluded table so you figured you could afford to reach over for a moment to squeeze his hand. Carlos' skin was warm against yours, in a way you'd never really experienced before. You didn't know how someone could ignite such a comforting warmth and electric excitement at the same time. It was addicting.

He walked you back to the hotel after, your arms brushing as you fell into step with each other, a comfortable silence settle between you as you soaked up being in his company once again. The paella you'd had was perfect, leaving a satisfying fullness in your belly and you didn't care what your fitness coach would have to say about it. When it came to paying, it took a short battle and a very disgruntled Carlos for you to settle up as you'd promised back in Imola.

He walked back to the hotel with you, the warm night air charged as the city came to life before your eyes. Carlos pointed out the odd place or building, but the only thing you were aware of was the way your fingers would collide every now and then. He dropped you off at the back entrance to your hotel, standing impossibly close.

“You brought trainers?” His question took you back a little bit and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I am not going on a run as a date,” you warned immediately. Your hatred of running was deeper than hot Spanish men with doe eyes and a wicked smile. Carlos laughed freely, running a hand through his hair.

“No running, Cariño,” he confirmed. “Wear them tomorrow, okay? I'm picking you up at eight and lots of walking,” he sent you a Charles-esque wink that had you wondering what on earth he had planned for you. You were about to ask when he swept you into a quick hug and turned to walk away.

“Okay,” you called after him. “Bye then!” Almost as if he was waiting for you to have said something, he turned. Making his way back to you in a couple of short strides and grasping your face in the palm of his hand as he pulled you into a kiss that had your stomach somersaulting.

“Until tomorrow,” he murmured against your lips, before leaving you stood dumb-struck outside of the hotel.

The next three days were quite possibly the best of your life.

Carlos collected you as early as promised the next morning with a compliment to your trainers that you'd spent 40 minutes desperately trying to find a non-paddock outfit that would match them. He informed you that you were going to be making the most of the city itself before it was infiltrated with F1 fans and you wouldn’t be able to move without a camera shoved in your face. He presented you with a breakfast pastry and a cup of coffee to have whilst you walked. He had a quiet smile as he chatted with you, but every time you asked him what he was planning for the day he would just point out something on the street ahead of you, adjust your sunglasses and completely ignore your question.

You started the morning in the Sagrada Familia which between its dramatic gothic exterior and open, high-ceilinged interior thrown into stark contrast by soft rainbows of light from the stained glass windows was the most stunning piece of architecture you'd ever seen.

“It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” you'd murmured, gazing around in awe as the multicoloured lights illuminated the spot of the marbled floor where you were. Carlos hummed in agreement, but he didn't seem to be looking at the building.

After you'd explored every crevice of the unfinished church, he took you through a food market. You loved a good market, but this was a far cry from the farmer's markets you were used to back home - these were full of bright colours and loud music and more exotic food than you could name. Carlos was beside you the whole time, explaining and translating as you idled through the various stalls, making recommendations as you went. After he helped you pick out lunch he bought you a pretty braided bracelet that reminded you of seaside holidays as a child. It was a thin strip of black with three delicate beads; two red with a yellow one sandwiched between. You could have sworn your entire body was filled with static as he gently lifted your wrist and fastened it for you, eyes burning into yours as he did.

The afternoon was much more relaxed, with a stroll through the old town where Carlos could have been a qualified history guide with the amount he knew about the city and ending the day in an impressive art museum. You’d never really had an interest in art, in truth you found the Mona Lisa media trip incredibly dull, but with Carlos standing so close, whispering beside you as he pointed out his favourite pieces you found yourself transfixed. It turned out he’d visited many areas of Spain during his childhood, his parents engraving a solid belief in an understanding of the culture within him.

When you returned back to the hotel that night you had to push down the twinge of regret at not accepting the offer to stay at his flat and the urge to pull him into your hotel room. What you did notice, however, was that already the hotel was significantly more full. You entered the lift to your room with four people in Mercedes caps that immediately asked you for photos, and the dining hall was alive with team polos.

You were on the verge of falling asleep when your phone chimed, almost making you jump. It was a text from your best friend, with bleary eyes you realised it was a photo and a smirking face emoji. You opened the photo to realise it wasn’t a photo at all, it was a screenshot.

It was a screenshot of Carlos’ Instagram story. The picture he’d posted was of the back of a girl, unidentifiable, her body bathed in the rainbow castings of the Sagrada Familia.

The following morning you found yourself having to make more of an effort to disguise yourself; wearing your hair down with a floppy sunhat, oversized sunglasses and a dress that was deliberately floaty to disguise your figure. Carlos had clearly planned ahead to avoid the crowded streets because he collected you in a VW Golf you didn’t recognise and the pair of you drove out into the beautiful countryside. Carlos handed you his phone demanding you play him some of your music. He pulled up to a quiet single-track lane that had you raise an eyebrow in question as he forced the small car up the track.

You were met by an old man who greeted Carlos in rapid-fire Spanish with a hug and a handshake as if they were old friends. He was introduced to you as Pablo, turned to you, and hugged you whilst babbling in Spanish. Carlos said something that must have explained you were English because after that he managed a broken ‘hello’ and spent the rest of the day looking at Carlos and waiting for him to translate for you. As Carlos told you, the pair of you were treated to a private tour around the extensive vineyard Pablo and his wife owned. They were an old family friend who moved to the countryside to start their own wine business. In the quiet of the gardens, Carlos’ hand slid down your wrist and tangled his fingers in yours. Your stomach bloomed with warmth as you bumped your hip against his in appreciation of the gesture.

After the tour, the pair of you were seated in a sunny spot of the garden at an iron table, where Pablo presented you with glass after glass of the best wine you’d ever had. Carlos sat opposite you, relaxed back in his seat in yet another loose linen shirt and shorts combo, sunglasses pushed up into his hair as he carefully explained each glass's tasting notes and region. Pablo’s wife also made a brief appearance as she shakily presented a platter of food paired with each glass on the table for the both of you.

On the way back you found yourself full and sleepy on spectacular wine, your head lolling to the side as you watched Carlos drive back into the city. If it wasn’t for the sun setting against his features and the gentle rock of the car maybe you’d have demanded to follow your buzz and get him to take you out. Instead, you found yourself being gently awoken by Carlos shaking your shoulder.

“We’re home, Cariño, come on,” still in your sleepy haze you happily let him lead you into the building and up the steps with little question.

It wasn’t until you awoke the next morning, still in your dress, with your head under a pillow and a blanket placed over your body that you realised you were on a sofa you didn’t recognise. The smell of coffee was wafting through, as you slowly sat up and gauged your surroundings. The lounge area was small but elegant with white walls and a terracotta tiled floor. The sofa, a matching blue armchair and a low coffee table the only pieces of furniture in the room. There was a television mounted on one wall and art that reminded you a little of a hotel room across the others. You stretched and rose to your feet, noticing that your sandals had been neatly placed at the bottom of the sofa.

You padded quietly across to the kitchen, where the site that greeted you made your breath catch in your throat. The kitchen was beautiful, white and open like the lounge with that holiday home feel you loved. There was a bot of coffee brewing to the side, and the stove was alive with activity. Two plates were set out at the island and in the middle of it all was Carlos. Correction, was a very shirtless Carlos, wearing only a pair of gym shorts and a tea towel that was thrown over his shoulder. There was a speaker playing soft jazz and he was humming along under his breath as he worked.

Your breath caught in your throat and something in your chest tightened because oh god, whatever the hell this was - it was the only thing you wanted. Carlos turned, from where you realised he was cooking bacon and eggs on the stove and caught you. His face broke into a wide smile as he called you forward to take a seat at the island.

“Good morning!”

“Hi Carlos,” he poured a cup of coffee, pushing it towards you with expectant eyes. You murmured a thanks and took a sip, your body immediately relaxing as the familiar richness of the coffee hit you. He’d turned back to his food, telling you that you had perfect timing as he began plating up the food. He presented you with a plate of bacon and eggs with a kiss on your temple, before seating himself beside you at the island.

“I thought it was time for some English,” he gestured at the plate. As much as you loved all the rich foods you got to try when travelling for races, part of you always missed the comforts of home and you found yourself more grateful than explainable for his little gesture.

“Care to tell me where I am, by the way?” You interrupted as he was explaining his newfound appreciation for morning jazz.

“My family’s flat, where I am staying,” he looked at you as if you were a little stupid.

“Hm, I figured. I meant more why,” you didn’t miss the way Carlos’ cheeks flushed with a little pink and he played with the remaining bacon on his plate.

“You fell asleep in my car,”

“You woke me up to come in here, could have done that at the hotel,” you were pushing, but you had a feeling he knew you were being goodnatured and that you wanted him to crack. He shrugged, but the small smirk creeping across his features gave him away.

“You are pushy,” he whined, but immediately gave in. “I wanted to carry you. Make sure you were safe,”

“Prince charming,” you joked, but you were blushing and there was a not-so-secret part of you that was entirely thrilled. “I promise I’m not usually that boring,” you broke the odd tension between you, pulling a surprised bark of a laugh from Carlos.

“I don’t think you could ever be boring,” he cleared your plates, stacking them neatly in the dishwasher and allowing you to admire the way the muscles in his back rippled and moved as he did so. You swallowed hard, finishing your coffee in two more sips and making your way over to him. Your hand landed on his hip, just above his waistband. Carlos was still bent over the dishwasher, but you felt him still beneath for a split second. The way his skin felt under your fingers was heavenly as you leant past him to add your cup to the top drawer. You went to move away, pleased with the small reaction your touch had, but Carlos was quicker.

He moved like lightning; before you had time to blink, he had you trapped. You were backed up against the kitchen counter, Carlos standing directly in front of you. He had one hand on your hip, putting just enough pressure on to hold you in place, not that you needed to be because there was no way you’d move. He was leaning down, his face level with yours as he watched your reaction. You averted your gaze, with little success as your view was entirely obstructed by tan skin whichever way you turned your head. Instead, you traced a soft line across his bare shoulder and down his arm, your hand coming to rest in the crook of his elbow. Carlos shuddered under your touch, reacting by gently cupping your chin and licking his lips as he dipped down for a kiss.

You decided he deserved payback for stealing you back to his flat, so right at the last second, you ducked away from him, using your strength and his distractedness to break free to the side. Carlos made a frustrated groan that melted into a laugh as he reached for you childishly.

“Come on, Cariño, no kiss for me?” He was pouting but his eyes were shining and you realised that he too was enjoying whatever this new, flirty dynamic was between you. You shook your head with a quip about stealing women away in the night. He grumbled again, but you let him catch you and leaned against his solid body as he told you the plan for your final day before the race weekend.

Carlos drove, again, despite you claiming you were more than comfortable sharing the job. He shut you down, saying, “My mother raised a gentleman,” and “I grew up on these roads,” but you didn’t really mind. Watching Carlos drive was fast becoming one of your favourite hobbies. He deposited you at the hotel with instructions of what you needed to fetch.

You didn’t question it as you grabbed the fastest shower and shave of your life, changing into your favourite little bikini and pulling yet another sundress over the top, before stuffing a bag with a towel and change of clothes. Carlos drove out of the city again, which by now was entirely swamped with Formula One fans. You had a message from Katie that the rest of the team had just landed. You turned your phone off.

Your heart rate picked up as the sea came into view, and then even more as Carlos drove you along the seafront, the beaches positively golden and the sea glittering turquoise in the bright sunshine. He pulled up in the marina car park, which had your interest piqued. And it wasn’t until he was leading you along the jetty explaining that his uncle had a boat here you realised that one of the yachts to rival Monaco was about to be your ride.

The boat was beautiful, not a massive yacht at all but you didn’t mind. It had a large wooden deck with white benches and sunbeds at one end and a large traditional wheel at the other. There was a small hatch leading to a below-deck area, but Carlos didn’t show you that immediately. He took the boat out to a fairly secluded bay, a little further up the coast from Barcelona and dropped the anchor far enough offshore that the two of you had complete privacy.

You spent the morning diving off the boat, swimming and snorkelling in the crystalline waters. The heat of the day meant that by the time you’d play wrestled-slash-made-out in the deep water enough to be starving that you didn’t even need to towel off, the water evaporating off your skin in no time. Carlos didn’t bother to pull a shirt on with his bathing trunks, not that you minded in the slightest.

You couldn’t help but be entirely touched as he carefully laid out a picnic blanket, complete with non-alcoholic wine and personal trainer-approved foods that he’d somehow still managed to make appetising.

After lunch, you spread out side-by-side on the loungers, soaking up every fraction of the warm weather you could. You were reading a book and looked up to see Carlos sitting playing chess with himself. You’d never really had someone like that in your life, where you could just do your own thing in the comfort of each other’s company. It made you feel special.

An idea jumped into your mind that made you smirk as you undid the strings of your bikini and lay on your front, leaving your whole back exposed.

“Can you get my back?” You asked innocently, gesturing to the suncream beside you. You caught Carlos’ eyes rake over your figure before you turned around, dropping your head back against the soft cushioned seat. You could feel him as he moved closer to you until you heard him pick up the bottle and settle himself beside you. Carlos understood the assignment exactly, warming the cream into his hands before gently spreading it across your shoulders and working his way down with firm but gentle movements. He leant down, pressing a kiss against the point of your shoulder.

“Done,” his voice was low in your ear, the hair tickling your cheek combined with his accent making you shiver. You hummed in appreciation, feeling Carlos’ hand which was still spread across your back move with you. He started adding to the kiss, working his way across your shoulders and then gently sweeping the hair to the side to give him access to your neck and jaw. You found it hard to keep up your act, you could feel yourself reacting to him.

When Carlos pawed at you gently you turned without hesitation, allowing him to find your lips and settle himself between your legs like he belonged there. You sighed automatically into the kiss, your hands twisting in his hair as he licked into your mouth.

“This is all I have been thinking about since that nightclub,” his voice was heavy, laced with something you weren’t used to as he kissed you between words, one hand making its way under the loosened fabric of your bikini top with a groan. “I wanted to rip that dress off you,”

Your hips bucked up helplessly in response. You didn’t even have it in you to be embarrassed at how desperate he made you, how he could have you squirming under him in a matter of minutes. Carlos seemed aware of the effect he had as he continued to kiss you at a painfully languid pace until you found his hips, gripping to the bone there and pulling him down against you. It did little to help, but feeling that he was as turned on as you felt provided some relief. He grunted into your mouth at the momentary friction.

He was playing with the waistband of your underwear idly, as if he had all the time in the world to take with you and completely ignoring the way you were positively keening for him. You reached down instinctively, finding the bulge in his shorts with no effort. Carlos managed a stuttered moan at your action, but before you could move any further he was gently sitting you up and moving you away.

You’d have been more upset if he didn’t look so pained himself.

“We shouldn’t,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and casting a look over your shoulder. You must have pulled a face because he circled his arms around your waist and pulled you close with a sweet kiss. “I want to, believe me, please. But not before a race weekend,”

You didn’t entirely see how having sex before a race weekend could be so detrimental, but something in the back of your mind was agreeing with him.

*****

You walked into the paddock the next day feeling the most relaxed you had in your whole career. Carlos had surprised you with a lovely dinner below the deck of the boat before you were deposited back at your hotel to face the rest of the world.

You had turned your phone back on after you’d washed the salt out of your hair and pulled on your loosest pyjamas to combat the heat that had only been mounting all afternoon. You had a multitude of texts and missed calls from a myriad of Aston Martin people, all of which were deleted rapidly, apart from Seb whom you informed that you were actually okay and had just been spending a little bit of time off-grid, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

In fact, the whole media day had been the smoothest you’d ever experienced. Perhaps it was because it was Carlos’ home race and with his recent results everyone was talking about his big maiden win opportunity, so naturally, he was the centre of attention. You smiled and answered the questions in the press conference, but without the pressure of Miami and film crews taking over the paddock, you found that you felt positively free. You even were a willing participant in the strategy meetings and actually volunteered information and took notes.

The rest of the team were casting nervous glances amongst each other as if they were just waiting for you to explode, but you genuinely felt like you didn’t have an explosive bone in your body. After the practice sessions, in which you pulled a top-five result for all three with Seb close but still behind you in the newer car, you found yourself forgetting all about the upgrade drama and settling into the race weekend with business as usual.

That was, at least, until qualifying. You had a rough start to Q1 with the high heat and equally high winds catching you in a tailwind that had you lose the back end on your first fast lap and spin into the gravel. You were able to recover and even without a pit stop you set a lap fast enough to get you into Q2, which was all that mattered. With a new set of soft tyres, you were back out for Q2 and starting to feel yourself, until you were told to give Seb a tow. There was enough time for each driver to set two laps and as Seb was pushing to reach Q3 with the new package you knew you had to oblige. You gave him the tow, resulting in having to abort your first attempt. Your second attempt felt good, the car snapping up into your hands the way you liked as you put your whole focus into setting the fastest lap you could.

There was no mistake that racing was your life, but there was something about qualifying, where it was just you and the road and your absolute best that you really loved. You had a little wobble as the wind caught you in one of the final corners of the lap, but you were ready for it and threw your entire body against the wind to pull the car through. The lap felt great, so you started your cooldowns and prepared to head back to the garage for Q3.

“Great drive, Y/N, lovely lap,” your race engineer crackled over the radio.

“Yep, felt good,” you agreed.

“Good. Unfortunately you came P11, so that’s us out,”

There was a sudden bitter taste in your mouth. You’d been in Q3 for every race of the season so far, in fact, you’d even have been bold enough to say you’d sailed through the first two rounds each time with little effort. So to have a lap you had tried so hard in and having given your first attempt up for the tow felt… pretty shit. You didn’t reply to the ranking because you didn’t think you could keep the edge out of your voice.

Instead, you let them pull you back into the garage and jumped out of the car in silence. You didn’t say a word until you had your helmet off and race suit pulled down and even then it was only to find out how Seb had done. He’d gotten P8, and qualified in P7. You didn’t see Carlos for the rest of the day; he’d qualified in third and was immediately swamped by the entire of Spain wanting to know how he planned on passing his teammate Charles and Max Verstappen himself.

It was probably a good thing you were so annoyed with the P11 start that you couldn’t bring yourself to care much about the race. Seb was older than you, he was a four-time world champion and you knew the day would come when he’d once again be better than you, but you still didn’t like it. You’d been the first driver since you came to the team, with Seb’s initial plan to be a gentle two years in the Aston before retirement as a way to wind down. Except with the results the pair of you had pulled in those two years, he decided it was worth staying on. But it still felt strange. You’d never been out-qualified by your teammate, you’d never been treated as the data-collecting, obliging second driver, and you’d never not received updates as soon as they were available. You didn’t like it one bit.

Katie was annoyed at you for missing her calls. You could tell because she kept sending you emails with annoying attachments that could have easily been discussed over a meal or a cup of coffee as was your usual custom. In fact, you were glad the weekend seemed to fly by and you were strapped into your car and off on the formation lap before you had to think too much about anything.

You had a strong start to the race. You reacted quickly at lights out and gained yourself two positions by the first turn, so there was just Daniel Ricciardo between yourself and Seb. As you’d told yourself aiming for points was enough this weekend, you were already quite pleased with yourself, but you could feel that you were gaining on the orange car in front of you and within a few laps and a little bit of DRS you’d probably have been able to take him.

You started to relax a little, as you always did once you made it through the first part of the lap, or ‘First Sector Splash Zone’ as you sometimes called it for all of the pile-ups that seemed to happen in the first lap. Just as you settled yourself into the car and started to pick up the pace to really push Ricciardo, you spotted a familiar red car reversing out of the gravel. You sent a silent prayer in hopes that it was Charles, not Carlos who’d spun, or even better that you’d mistaken the flash of red for an Alpha Romeo.

With DRS enabled the McLaren was easy pickings and you’d made the overtake by the end of the fifth lap. What made your heart sink, was that you were gaining fast on Seb.

“I think I’m quicker,” you muttered down the radio. You didn’t want to be seen to be asking for team orders, but if you were already pushing for P7 there was still a glimmer of hope for a podium for you.

“Hold position,” you felt yourself deflate, but you did as you were told. You wouldn’t have minded except you were actually braking to keep out of Seb’s way and you were fighting your DRS to keep behind him.

“Guys I’m really holding back here,” you pleaded again, your stomach clenching as you did.

“Okay,” your engineer replied, which was entirely unhelpful, but the line was still crackling. “Yep, permission to fight,”

It wasn’t team orders, but it was worse. You didn’t want to make this look like a rivalry and for the first time, you realised just how lucky you’d been so far that you and Sebastian never really crossed paths on the track. But with your DRS open once more you were on his tail and coming into the next bend you had him on the outside.

You were settling into the race, setting your sights on a minimum of P5 already when something changed. Your throttle was… well you weren’t sure but it was not throttling. You were stamping on it to try and kick it back into action but you could feel the speed dropping and the familiar tightening panic in your chest.

“Problem, problem,” you reported, hoping the desperation wasn’t too clear in your voice as the car dropped even slower and you guided it outside of the track limits and let it fall to a stop in the next gravel trap. You were far enough ahead in the pack that you thought you’d be able to have a go at the old turn-it-off-and-on-again trick, but the car wasn’t responding.

“Are you okay?” Was the only correspondence you got from your engineer. You watched the blue Williams marking the back of the pack streak past you and heaved a sigh.

“Yeah,” you mumbled before disconnecting your radio and hoisting yourself out of the car.

The ride back to the pit lane sucked. You hated all the cameras pointed at you, even through the shield of your helmet, you knew they were there. You hated the way that the second you walked into the Aston Martin garage you were patted on the back and pulled into hugs and apologised to as if they hadn’t been using you as a sacrificial lamb all week.

You pulled on a pair of headphones to watch the rest of the race, which was possibly the worst idea you could have had. Carlos was in 10th, he had spun and was struggling to make his way back through the pack. Meanwhile, Leclerc had also had to retire with an engine failure and Verstappen had a 15-second lead which was only extending. In other words, Maiden win hopes were looking bleak for Carlos and his family which the cameras kept cutting to in the Ferrari garage. The race wasn’t looking good for Seb either, who seemed to be suddenly struggling with the pace and had dropped just outside of the points.

You had to leave to do your interviews, which was possibly the only good thing about a DNF. You got the media pen to yourself and were able to have a bit of a whine about the reliability issues on your car before you were allowed to head back. You stopped by an almost deserted food stall to treat yourself to ice cream in a weak attempt to lift your mood and combat the blistering heat in one go. By the time you made it back to the garage, there were only five laps left, in which you simultaneously watched Carlos fighting for his life against Hamilton for P4, and Seb with Ricciardo for one point in P10.

Carlos got P4, but Seb wasn’t so lucky. You could tell he was disappointed because he too was quiet when he came back to the garage and between the two of you the debrief was an awkward affair. The pair of you were a united front of grim faces against a panel of apologetic engineers. Seb refused to volunteer a word of information, and you just shrugged and insisted that your opinion didn’t matter if your car was going to throw itself off a bridge less than a quarter of the way into the race. The second it was over Seb was up and out, but that wasn’t your main concern.

For three days all you’d listened to was Carlos talk about how badly he wanted to win at his home race, about how special it would be for it to be his first win with all of his family and loved ones surrounding him. Your heart was aching for him, and when you spotted the back of his polo shirt heading towards the driver’s exit, you didn’t hesitate in following him. After all, you’d finished all your media duties well before the race had even finished.

You weren’t entirely sure that he would have gone back to the apartment, but he wasn’t the type to lose himself in some seedy bar to drown his sorrows after a bad race. In fact, you weren’t even sure if he would want you to be chasing after him like this, but you were already pulling into the apartment’s garage and you’d already seen a valet walking away from a Ferrari, so you figured he had to be there.

With your heart in your mouth and not so much as a fraction of a plan, you bounded the stairs to the third floor and rapped on the door, hard.

You’d barely stepped through the door when he pulled you into a crushing hug, his face buried in your neck. You could feel his hot breath on your shoulder and his hair brushing your cheek and you had to force yourself to clear your mind. He needed you, so you were going to be there for him.

He didn’t let go, and when you tried to pull away a fraction he made an uncharacteristic noise in the back of his throat and tightened his arms around your waist, pulling you so were flush against him once more.

“Okay,” you returned the squeeze and stood still, letting him take whatever he needed from you. You’d never really seen Carlos like this before. Frustrated yes, disappointed yes, irritated yes. But never like this; he seemed positively heartbroken, and had been since Saturday really. There was still a simmering in your stomach, you hadn’t forgotten about your own loss with no points at all, but when he was like this it was all too easy to forget yourself. You felt him finally step back, and prepared yourself to release him, but he kept his grip on you, moving the pair of you backwards.

He only let go of you to sit down on the sofa and even then the second your bum hit the material he was back, his body turned to you and pulling you close so you mirrored him. His arm draped across the back of the couch, fingers just running along the exposed skin of your neck. His other hand was on your thigh, making sure you were sat so close that the knees of your crossed legs were pressed against his, one of which was tucked underneath him and the other hanging down to the floor. He was watching you, a look in his eye you didn’t recognise.

The downside of Carlos’ Disney-cartoon eyes was that when they were sad, they were devastating. He looked like he’d just found out the world was ending, and not even the proud slope of his nose or the usual upturn of his lips could save him. You hoped you didn’t look like you were pitying him, because you weren’t. You felt his pain last year - you’d been tipped to take your first win at your home track of Silverstone, only to crash out in lap seven. And now he was looking at you like that and you could have sworn your heart was breaking for him. You sighed heavily, your mind grappling to find the right words. You didn’t know him like that yet, to know what he needed to hear or how he needed you to be in moments like this. It made your chest ache because knowing what to do for him was all you wanted.

“I’m so sorry-” he shook his head, unable to meet your eye for a second. Okay, so no apologies. You sat in the pause, should you try again? Or wait for him? He was still looking at the foot tucked under his thigh, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“It’s just another race, no?” The way he was looking at you gave him away, his eyes boring deep into yours, searching you for an answer you didn’t have.

“You don’t have to pretend-” you tried but he was shaking his head again, a humourless laugh escaping him.

“A personal best for the track,” you didn’t speak that time, just letting him lead you. “My car felt wrong, also, but I finished,” you hadn’t known that “I made all those places back, I fought Hamilton,”

“You drove incredibly,” he shrugged.

“I let everyone down still,” his words cut through the air.

“Don’t say that,” but you could see it in him, he’d been punishing himself all afternoon and he wasn’t going to stop now. His voice was thick when he spoke again, his accent coming through heavier than you’d ever heard it.

“I want to make everyone proud. Of me, yes, but also of Ferrari and Spain and to be a fan. But it’s not enough,” your hand came to rest on his cheek, and he leant into your touch. You released a silent breath you’d been holding because part of you was getting worried he’d not want you that close. He covered the hand on his cheek with his own, and his eyes met yours again, that look you couldn’t quite decipher back in them.

“I want to make you proud,”

Your heart skipped a beat, and then picked up its pace. That was - well, he’d never said something like that to you. You felt like you were on fire under his gaze, needing a second for the thoughts to come rushing back into your head and allowing your mouth to work again.

“Carlos, I am proud of you,” he looked up at you with disbelief, his hand still cupping yours on his cheek, where your thumb was gently stroking his five o’clock shadowed cheek. “All the time, no matter what you think of yourself,”

He sighed again, the intensity still burning in his eyes, but it was different.

“I didn’t imagine it to go like this,” he looked away again, mumbling the words to himself more than you. Before you had time to question it, he grabbed your face and pulled you into a searing kiss.

No one had ever kissed you the way that Carlos kissed you then, the desperation, the disappointment, the frustration all bleeding into it and setting you alight.

You reacted immediately, running your fingers through his hair and melting into his touch. Everything you’d been feeling for the past week, fuck it, for the past five weeks since he’d sat in your hotel room in Imola, suddenly came rushing back to you and settling as a weight in your lower stomach. He groaned against your lips, and you responded with ease, opening your mouth to let him lick inside. The feeling sent a shiver down your spine. Part of you couldn’t help but feel a little bit pleased, because maybe you weren’t good at comfort, but you were damn good at kissing and if that’s how he wanted to forget this mess, well, you were more than eager to be his partner.

You used his hair to stabilise yourself, earning a thick grunt from him as you tensed, hoisting yourself forward and into his lap, the need to feel him closer overwhelming. The kiss was growing feverish, breathing into each other’s mouths as both of you refused to move away. He found your hips and tightened his grip, shifting the pair of you with ease so he could sit properly on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with both feet firmly on the floor to ground himself. You took advantage of the new position, your chest pressed right against his and testing out a roll of your hips, enjoying the delicious way your crotch rubbed right over his. His groan was higher pitched than you expected, his neediness betraying him and you loved it. His hands tightened on your hips again, forcing you back down, guiding you as you rolled again, allowing you to feel the increased friction as he hardened beneath you.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you moved your hips the same way, Carlos letting go when you established a steady rhythm, leaving you to work away as his hands roamed freely. The friction created, over no less than two pairs of jeans, was enough to already have you soaked; the familiar sensation growing between your legs as you became hungrier for more. He slipped under the material of your team polo with another sigh in your mouth as his fingers danced up and down the soft skin of your torso and then he pressed his palms flat against your bare skin as if he couldn’t quite believe there was more of you to feel. You moved, finally breaking the heated kiss as you found his stubbled jaw.

“No,” it was a plea more than a demand.

You didn’t know what he didn’t want, so you just pulled back and stared at him in confusion. He simply leant forward, capturing you in yet another kiss. Okay, you thought, I can get behind this and you kissed him back with equal vigour, pulling his full bottom lip between yours and gently dragging it back through your teeth, at the same time as you pressed your hips down. Carlos hissed, his fingers digging into your soft flesh for a second as he steadied himself. And then he was back at it, kissing you like you’d disappear if he didn’t, playing with the hem of your shirt as he did so. He was tugging at your shirt as the kiss became messier, all teeth and tongues and open mouths in the best way. He bunched the material in his hands, and then dragged them painfully slowly up your body so you felt his knuckles drag along the length of your torso. If that wasn’t enough to make you shiver, having to almost force him away from your mouth so you could pull back and pull the polo over your head was certainly enough to do it.

He watched in awe as you took over for him, stretching up as you finished the job and threw it into a corner of the room, and before he could move closer you followed suit with the sports bra. Carlos’ eyes were blown wide, his lips swollen and hair a perfect mess. He looked unreal beneath you as he was watching your breasts swing free in rapture. Your moment of appreciation was broken when in a blink of an eye he’d sat up, his own top yanked over his head and mouth catching yours in a cheeky kiss before you had time to see him. You could feel his smile against you, and for the first time you properly relaxed into him, so pleased you’d managed to draw one out of him when he was so upset moments before.

His skin was so warm against yours, the direct contact feeling like the most natural thing in the world. You could have stayed there, snuggled into his arms as you kissed him into oblivion forever. Carlos, however, had other plans. You’d stopped moving against him in your distraction, so he bucked his hips up against you, allowing you to feel how badly he was straining for more. You couldn’t stop the whine that slipped from your lips or the heat between your legs that was burning to the point of distraction in itself. Your hands ghosted across his shoulders, determined to commit his body to your memory, working your way down his arms and then back up, noting the way he shivered as you thumbed along his collarbones and then down. His chest was smooth, allowing you to easily slide your palms down his pecs, your fingers deliberately catching his nipples as you went past, just to see his reaction.

You’d seen his abs in many a picture, but to feel them beneath your touch was a different thing entirely, earning him a small moan as you finally got to appreciate him properly. And then you were back on the rough fabric of his jeans, your knuckles brushing against the small gathering of hair just above, toying with the button as if you were waiting for something. His hands mirrored yours, poised at the same place on your own jeans. He still didn’t break the kiss, instead, surging up to pull you deeper, attacking you with renewed energy as his fingers slipped beneath the button to pop it open. You jumped into action undoing his jeans and pushing them to the side, unable to stop yourself from pressing your hand flat against his underwear and enjoying the way he bucked into you with a heavy breath just graced with sound from a catch in his throat.

And then you really did have to pull away because you had to stand up to kick your jeans off. Nevertheless, Carlos complained about the loss of contact. You moved as quickly as possible, glad that he was distracted with removing his own, because taking jeans off has never, ever, been achieved in a sexy manner. When he was done he looked up, his breath catching in his throat as he saw you, standing naked in front of him except for the thin strip of soaked material that made up your underwear. He was a sight himself, his now bare thighs spread on the couch, his straining bulge on full display for you beneath tightly fitted boxers.

“Cielo,” you didn’t need to know what he said, because it was all in the way he was looking at you like you were simply heaven on earth. “Take it off,” he gestured to the last remaining garment on your body. You did as you were told, hooking your thumbs into the waistband and slowly dragging your underwear down your legs, not breaking a second of eye contact with him, enjoying the way he gulped when you playfully flicked the discarded item at him.

And then you were back on his lap, the friction ten times better as he held you in yet another bruising kiss, his hands mapping out every fraction of your new body as you rocked shamelessly against him, your desperation for him reaching a boiling point. In a moment of abandon you reached down and understanding your meaning Carlos lifted his hips, allowing you to shimmy his boxers away from his hips and then there you were, the pair of you totally exposed to each other. The tension building in you had you squirming. You knew you wouldn’t make it through any more teasing, your need for him entirely overwhelming. He pulled away from you, his eyes scanning your face in earnest, fighting the urge to drop his head back as he felt your small hand wrap around him.

“Do I need-”

“I’m on birth control,” he nodded, rewarding you with a sweet kiss, but before you could deepen it he backed off once more.

“You’re sure you want to..?” You moved the hand that was pressed between you, allowing him to feel the wetness that had been gathering glide across the head of his dick. He gritted his teeth, but held eye contact, determined to get an answer out of you. You rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“I really want to,”

With that, he nodded, his hands just resting on your hips as you lifted yourself up, and then sank down onto him.

He was bigger than you’d anticipated, needing to stop to collect your breath as you adjusted to the new feeling, the air felt like it had been punched out of your lungs. Carlos was panting, taking deep breaths that gave small sounds on the exhale as he did his best to collect his thoughts and sit still. Even his breathing was creating enough movement that you could feel it, every little brush sending tingles up your spine and before you could stop yourself you ground down onto him. That seemed to do it, Carlos throwing himself at you in a kiss that took your breath away as his hands began to gently guide you up, and then back down onto him. His arms came up to wrap around the small of your waist, his palms resting flat against your sides as he kissed you like you were his last breath.

You found yourself building rhythm quickly, grinding against him as you moved. There was already a tightening sensation building that you couldn’t help but chase and with Carlos unable to stop his hips from lighting up slightly to meet yours as they came down, allowing him to bury himself as deep within you as possible, you knew you weren’t far off. You were still kissing, technically, mouths opened against each other in ecstasy, you greedily swallowing every sound he made. He was cursing in Spanish and his breath hot on your face was working for you. When your hands came up to thread through his hair as you slightly changed your angle of movement you felt him shudder.

“Shit,” his voice was strained, the change in pitch going straight through you as you realised how hard he was working for you. “If you do that it’s not going to be much longer,” it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard. He couldn’t stop his hips from bucking up into you, picking up the speed and you let him, adapting to his pace as he grunted, his head falling against your shoulder as he tensed. The new angle was sending shockwaves up your spine with every thrust, and there was a white heat building that was stealing the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping and desperate as his lips worked around your chest.

“I want to make you-”

“I’m close,” you were, in fact, too close to let him finish his sentence.

You felt like your body was splintering, the room suddenly stifling. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Carlos inside of you, and before you could stop yourself you grabbed his face, pulling him into a rough kiss. The second you felt him push back against your mouth you were gone, a high-pitched moan signalling the start of your orgasm as your hips stuttered, moving in a slower, harsher rhythm as you contracted around him, your vision whiting out as you let the explosion work through your body, making your toes curl as you came with a force you’d never experienced before. Carlos groaned against your mouth, his arms holding you fast as he rutted up into you, finally letting himself fall over the edge with you.

For some reason, it reminded you of the interior of the Sagrada Familia.

He didn’t loosen his hold on your body. When you’d started to return to a more normal breathing pattern he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours with a satisfied smile. He was still inside of you, the sweat you were both coated in rapidly cooing but you didn’t care. You could have sat in his arms like that for hours. He kissed you again, soft and sweet and yet somehow still all-consuming. He had a small, dazed smile and his eyes were shining at you as he pulled away and shook his head as if he couldn't quite get his head around what had just happened.

"How long I've wanted this… you have no idea," he whispered with a gentle smile, his forehead pressed against yours as he held you close.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read Chapter Six Here

Check out my masterlist here!

Cielo = heaven

hello and welcome to iggy gets writers block and then provides a mammoth chapter because she feels bad. It's also 2am and i hit 2k followers yesterday, lost my mind and immediately got inspired to finish this chapter lmao

i might split this into two chapters further down if people feel like that would be a nicer read... let me know!

anyway this was pretty much done for ages but i was stuck on the three day date in Barcelona bc I've never been and i had no idea what was even there to do. i hope it's not too shabby and you guys liked that part of this chapter

as per usual feedback is always appreciated!!! and thank you guys so much for all of your patience and all of the love I've been getting in the gap between chapters, it seriously means the world <3

taggies: @imreallylosingit @serialkillertbh @sticksdoesart @lovingroscoee @agentsoybean @piceous21 @whosays75 @xscorpioxmoon @miahelen @j-brielmalfoy @honeybadger03 @teapartydreams @guccicloudz @nochillnel @timetoracewrites @rmaddenns @ruledchaos @isabellabrodar @ccloaned @ihearttheoriginals @tattered-tales @ferrarifwendvale @bradfordbantams @urbankaite2 @bobohumyonlyboo @zoobabystation @formulacads @hnmaga-blog @f1-incorrect-s @alicekepley @thembeforethea @mrscevans @nora-moon @sueesstuff @turningxstrange @luvrboygaslys @sgkophie @thembeforethea @jpotterdilf @dan3avacado @missxmericana @mall--e @ohthemisssery @yearsof-war @bisexual-desi

#carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #flat spin #formula one #f1 #barcelona gp 2022 #spanish gp 2022

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distantlaughter · 8 months

Text

"Poker always works"

by Christian Von Hocke, originally written 24 July 2009 for Zeit Online (x)

Formula 1 pro Nico Rosberg talks in an interview about his life as a globetrotter, exotic food and his preferences for other sports.

Question: Mr. Rosberg, like right now in Budapest, you're on the road all year round with Formula 1 around the world. Don't you sometimes get homesick?

Nico Rosberg: I've had nine hotels in four weeks, which is exhausting. But homesick? No. I really enjoy traveling, it's very educational and very interesting. That's what I would also do in my free time: get to know new countries, discover new people, the way they live.

Question: So you've turned a hobby into a profession right alongside driving.

Rosberg: Yes, there are many places in the world that I would like to see and that excite me. I'm also planning a big trip during the winter break. I'm interested in India, for example, with its spirituality, or South America, Patagonia, a safari in South Africa. Even just hiking. That's not something I would normally do, but it's good for the body's regeneration. There's so much I can do, I'm just afraid that I'll take on too much and it will end up being too stressful.

Question: Michael Schumacher has regretted that he never saw anything of the Grand Prix venues apart from the airport and the track. Do you also explore the cities where you race?

Rosberg: Yes, especially at the overseas races. I have a bit more time there because we always arrive a bit earlier due to the time change. But even so, there's always the Saturday evening before or the Monday after the race. We have great races in interesting cities like Melbourne or Singapore or Shanghai.

Question: And what do you do there?

Rosberg: I go into town. I have a nice meal in a restaurant or go out for a drink or shopping in the evening, or I go to the beach and go surfing. Or I look at the special features of the city. I'm also very interested in photography and always have my big camera with me.

Question: But traveling can also be quite stressful. Can you sleep on the plane?

Rosberg: No, very badly. I have to lie horizontally and need rest so that I can concentrate on falling asleep, otherwise it doesn't work. For that reason alone, I have to fly business class. That's not a problem in Europe, where I always have my camper van to take me to the tracks.

Question: There are 17 Formula 1 races in 2009 alone. Have you ever woken up and not known which city you were in?

Rosberg: Not that, but I was once at the airport at check-in, and the woman asked me: Where are you flying to? And I didn't know. I'd been to four or five different countries that week, I was tired and unfocused, and I just couldn't think of it. She looked at me like I was stupid (laughs).

Question: Do you sometimes wish you had an office job from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., where you could throw your coat over the hook and stretch your legs in front of the TV when you're done working?

Rosberg: No. Whether it's a nine-to-five job or a Formula 1 racing driver isn't that important. I don't know if it would make anyone else happier if they led my life. My friends all have nine-to-five jobs, and they're no less happy than I am. It's always what you make of it that matters.

Question: But you also need a bit of home, don't you? Many people always have their music player with them to simulate a feeling of home wherever they go.

Rosberg: I'm not a music fan. I got an iPod as a gift, but I haven't really used it yet. For me, it's the cell phone. It connects me with friends and family. That's cool, I can also use it to go on the Internet. When I don't have it with me, I feel very naked. Like today, I don't even know what's going on anymore.

Question: Anyone who travels so much must have acquaintances all over the world.

Rosberg: That's true - wherever I go in the world, there are my best friends. I know them either through racing or from the past. I grew up in Monaco, and nobody stays there. Today, my old friends are everywhere, in Australia, China, America or South Africa. I can call them up and ask if we want to have a drink.

Question: Can you maintain hobbies while traveling?

Rosberg: I like to play football, but I rarely do that when I'm traveling. Poker is always on. I'm not very proud of it, actually it's nonsense to sit in front of a computer and play poker. But it's fun. Otherwise: eating. Does that count? I already see it as a hobby, I love to eat for my life, delicacies, creative, new things, especially country-related. I was in Marrakech with my girlfriend the other day, they have gigantic food there.

Question: In your travels, do you notice how places in the world change from year to year, and not just in terms of cuisine?

Rosberg: Yes. My parents have a country house in Aix-en-Provence. At first it was quite isolated, but now it's become a huge settlement with an industrial area.

Question: Let's be honest: What is your least favorite place in the world?

Rosberg: Kuala Lumpur. We're always just sitting around at the airport there (laughs).

#nico rosberg #nicology

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