#the way he squeezed Carlos’ bicep……I want

[leclercskiesahead]

The Marquezes and the Carlos Sainzes, alternate angle from Marc’s ig (ft alt angle of that carc moment)

#the way he squeezed Carlos’ bicep……I want #carlos sainz jr #marc marquez #alex marquez #carlos sainz sr #carc #motogp #motogp x f1 #motogp jerez 2024

[cherry-leclerc]

ruined all my plans ☆ cl16

genre: wolff!reader, secret relationship, humor, enemies to lovers (?? depends how you see it ??), forbidden romance

word count: 6.4k

Toto creates a “hands off” rule over his daughter for all the drivers on the grid. Too late, as it appears Charles might’ve already weasled his way into your heart a long time ago.

or

Plot line of schematization that runs along George, Carmen, Lily and Alex to figure out who you’re busy hooking up with. All bets are on.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...pentrative sex (f and m), biting

inspired by this and this !

One could argue and say that you’re old enough to make your own decisions, and while everyone around you might see that as true, there’s only one person who would disagree.

“I’m being serious.” Your dad walks away without further comment. Chasing after him like a little girl, you find it almost impossible to keep up with him and his long strides. You pant.

“Why would any of this cause an issue?”

Toto comes to a sudden stop as you bump into his back. You let out a slight umph before putting on your brave face. His heels turn as he looks down at you. “Because I said so.” Leaning down he plants a kiss on your forehead before walking away. You scoff as you click your tongue.

Both your dad and yourself had decided it would be a fun idea if you tagged along for some races of the new F1 season since you haven’t for quite a while, but the moment he noticed the way the grid grew nervous, flirtatious, and some even with tongues hanging out, he regretted it. 

You had been bickering back and forth when he broke the news to you that you would be flying back home as soon as possible. If teleportation existed I would’ve already sent your ass away, he stated earlier as you glared angrily.

“You know this isn’t a proper excuse to just send me away. I’ve behaved! Not once have I responded to any of the driver's advances.” He knows you’re right, but he ignores you anyway. Susie had always pointed out how his stubbornness always had her fuming and in this moment, in you, he noticed just how annoying it could get.

“I don’t care! If this is something I have to do in order for my daughter to stop being gawked at by every driver, so be it. Now, stop yapping and start packing.”

That was the last straw.

As he walks out of the Mercedes garage to make his way to his drivers he hears fast footsteps. Throwing yourself onto his large back you cling on as if he was a floatie. 

“Let go!” He stumbles back and forth as you cover his eyes. Then your arms slide around his large shoulders, squeezing hard. “You're acting like a child!”

“Stop treating me like one then!” This was a bit much, you’ll admit it, but never out loud. You pinch his bicep and he yelps, running like a chicken without a head. You screech as you hold on tighter, head digging into his neck.

“This isn’t going to make me change my mi-” You bite his ear. He tries to push your legs that wrap around his torso, but you just won’t budge. He spins as he groans in pain. He knew you hated to be dizzy, so why not use it against you.

“Cute. Father-daughter quality time.” Lewis smiles as George takes his phone out to record. Toto looks at them with a bright red face.

“Fuck quality time! Get. Her. Off.”

Scurrying over, they each grab a leg. “Let go!” You yell as you turn to look at them, breathing hard.

“Exactly! Let go!” Toto continues to pry your hands off.

Everyone has gathered outside of their garages as they watch in amusement. Carlos bends over laughing.

“She looks like fun, no?”

Taking a sip of water, Charles shakes his head.

“That chicks crazy.”

-

You, Lewis, and George sit in the Mercedes meeting room silently waiting for Toto. Rocking in his chair impatiently, George grins. “Do you guys want to see the video I took?”

You glare harshly. “My dads not here yet, you wanna be next?” He shuts up as he slides his phone back into his pocket.

A minute passes by before your dad walks in with Avengers stickers covering his ear, hand, and neck. You all stifle a laugh. “You think this is funny?” You nod. His cold stare turns into the kind you’ve only seen the times he’s grounded you.

“You asked!”

He shakes his head in disapproval. “These are Jack’s, so I don’t even want to hear it.” Sliding a chair out in front of you three, he takes a seat. “We need to talk.”

You roll your eyes. “Really? I thought we were all gonna learn how to fly.” George lets out a laugh as Lewis nudges your thigh. Just listen, his gaze warns you. 

Toto folds his arms against the tables as he lets out a breath. “I won’t send you home.” Not what you were expecting. Hopping over to him you kiss his cheek as he slightly flinches.

“Thank you, Daddy!”

George raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? If I would ever behave like this with my parents they would ship me to boarding school.” You bite the air.

“Sit down.” You rush back into your seat between the Mercedes drivers. Drumming his fingers against the table he begins. “But I have some rules. Call them…my conditions.” You groan.

“That’s not how this works-”

“No, it’s going to work because I said so!” He takes a moment to relax before continuing. “Look, I spoke to your mother and you were right. I was being unfair.” You clap your hands in delight. “That doesn’t mean what you did was right. But here’s all I ask from you, the same thing as always; don’t date any drivers on the grid.”

You nod profusely. “I promise!” There were some good looking men on the grid, but quite frankly you never found interest. You knew what you’d be getting yourself into if you ever did.

Lewis clears his throat. “This has been super nice and all, but why are we here?” He signals between him and his teammate. 

“Right.” Standing up, Toto places both his hands on his waist. “I won’t ask for much.” Turning to look at them he says, “Just ask for you both to watch over her.”

“Like Jesus?” 

“George, shut up!” You follow Toto. “Dad, I don’t need them to babysit me. What’s the whole point of not being treated like a baby?”

“That’s what you don’t seize to understand. You are my baby.” He cups your face tenderly. “Those are my circumstances if you want to stick around.” He lets go. “And either way, you said it yourself. You don’t pay much attention to them, so why would this be any different?”

“Fine. Deal.”

-

“Where are you headed?”

Miami was always a fun place to be at and you wanted to have some fun. Wasn’t this the point of it all?

“I’m just going for a walk around the paddock.”

Lewis stands up like a guard dog as he slides on his sunglasses. “You know what? I’m kind of in the mood for a walk too. Always a good time to show off my outfit.”

Rolling your eyes you reluctantly agree. He’s telling you about Roscoe’s recent “girlfriend” as you both pass the Red Bull garage. Paparazzi stand outside as they wait for any glimpse of Max, but as soon as they see Lewis they immediately rush over. Almost like a force of nature, Lewis coolly poses as he continues walking smoothly. 

“Yeah, I can’t do this right now.” Taking advantage of the situation, you dart off.

“Whatever,” Lewis yells out as he continues, entertained by the cameras.

Rushing behind a nearby wall you gasp for air. “Are you okay?”

“Crap!” You fling your hand outwards as you smack someone's hard chest. You look at your fist as you recognize the dark blue fireproofs.

“Ow!” Max yelps as he pushes your arm down. You cringe.

“Sorry! I just thought- nevermind. Are you alright?” He nods. 

“Yes. Were you looking for someone?” You notice that in an attempt to get away from the mob you had landed yourself inside the garage of Mercedes’ main rival. You shake your head.

“God, no. I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You hum embarrassingly. “I should go now.” 

“Hey, I mean you can hide out here with me for a while.” 

The way he smiles shyly takes you back to the day he first asked you out. He was nice, but no. You can’t. Tugging out your phone from your back pocket you giggle nervously. “Oh! Would you look at that! It’s my dad calling. I should go before he starts to worry. Bye Max!” You zoom out.

“Yeah, bye…”

“Where were you?” Toto is sitting in the small room he had set up for you when you were on the road with him and the team.

“I went out for a walk.” That wasn’t completely a lie, but if he found out who you were with he would only start World War III. “Wanted to stretch out my legs.” You kick your legs out as you hop up a few times.

He holds out an envelope as you delicately reach out for it. Opening it up you see what’s inside. Pictures of you with Lewis, but as you continue flipping through you see yourself slipping away. It would almost be funny if it weren’t for Toto’s narrowed look. “Where did you run off to?”

“First of all, this is extremely creepy, zero privacy, but nowhere! I came straight back, you know I can’t handle large groups like those.”

Rising up he nods. “If you say so.”

-

You take a seat next to your dad as you both analyze the race. The Red Bulls are fast, as expected, but Mercedes wasn’t that far off. They might actually get podium if the strategy continued the same. 

“C’mon. C’mon.” It was the final lap and George was fighting for third against Fernando. Anxiety filled up your stomach, you could only imagine what George was feeling. “Goddamn it!” You and Toto both curse out as you both slam the headset against the table.

“Every single time.” 

You congratulate Lewis and George as they walk in after being weighted. “You guys did good.” You smile as they wipe off their sweat with a small towel.

“Ah, I need a drink. Wanna come out with Carmen and I to the club? A couple other drivers are tagging along.” 

“Yes! Okay, just me a second to go back to the hotel and change.” As you run away, Toto strolls over. George gulps.

“Remember…” He warns him as the Brit carefully nods. Of course. You don’t need to worry.

You show up 2 hours late, but it's Miami. The later the better.

“That group right there! I swear I know them.” You had been trying to explain to the security guard that you weren’t some crazy fan and that you did in fact know the group of F1 drivers who had shown up to the VIP section.

“Right and I know Oprah Winfrey…” You furrow your brows. Are you calling me a liar? He shrugs. Just then, Charles walks by and you immediately jump forward, but the guard holds you back.

“Charles!” He turns to look at you as he tries to understand the situation. You’re being held back by the guard as you screech in his arms. He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no.” He walks away. Coward! Your body droops into his arms. The tall man drags you out. I swear I know himmmm.

“Yo, is that chick dead?” Your eyes pop open as you hear a familiar voice.

“Daniel! Ah. Thank God! Tell him you know me!” Daniel lets out a loud laugh as he claps his hands in amusement. 

“Oh God, this is amazing.” He hurries over to you both. “Yes, I know her.” The bald man looks like he doesn’t quite believe you, but he lets you go either way. Walking side by side you pat the Australians shoulder. 

“Thank you so much. You won’t believe how long it’s taken me to try and wheeze myself in.” He grins.

“No problem.” He lets you through first as Carmen rushes over.

“Oh good! I thought you weren’t going to show up.” 

“Ran into a bit of trouble, but there’s no way I would’ve missed out on Georgie’s almost win celebration.” George scowls. Bitch, he mutters under his breath. Carmen smacks his head.

Excusing yourself you walk over to the bar as you order yourself a drink. You don’t have to turn to know someone is now standing next to you. You immediately noticed the stack of bracelets. “Hey, dick, what was that all about?’ Charles sighs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You ignored me! You let them drag me away like a beast!”

He snickers. “You said it, not me.” Slamming your palm against the table you make his drink jump up a bit.

“You are a real piece of shit, y’know that?”

“And you aren’t?” 

You toss your head back with a cold laugh before you glare back at him.

“I can’t believe I ever dated you.”

-

There was a time - where you’re embarrassed to admit now - that you actually fell for a driver's charm.

“Charles,” he introduces himself, as you kick your shoe against your leg nervously. For a while you tried to push away, but somehow, something always led you back to him.

Skipping your way down the paddock you make your way towards the taco stand. Rumors had made their way to you that Scuderia had authentic tacos in honor of the Mexican GP and you just had to go. 

The line was long, but you didn’t seem to mind as you answered a few texts. 

“Hungry?”

You blush when you notice Charles with his fireproofs. Glistening sweat makes his brown hair connect to his face. He looks so filt-

“Just a tiny bit.” He could’ve easily made his way to the staff to request your plate much faster, but then how else would he talk to you? For an entire hour, his towering height lingered over you as you both stood under the blazing sun. And he was just as perfect as you could have ever imagined. It wasn’t that long after that you both were sneaking in kisses behind Ferrari’ and Mercedes’ motorhome.

“Fuck.” He kisses you hard as his hands slip underneath your shirt. His cold touch makes you shiver as your body jumps up a bit. This causes you to rub yourself against him. He pulls away, eyes screwed shut.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

He shakes his head as he stares down at you with an enamored smile tugging at his pink, swollen lips. “No, it's just that…” You look down at the tent poking through his jeans. 

“I could fix that.” Your flirtatious tone is enough for him to fall back against your warm lips. He groans.

“N-no. Not here.” You had both been taking shelter behind the Mercedes garage in order to not be caught, but still, this was risky. You sigh as your arms drop to your sides.

“You’re right.” He gives you one last peck as he rushes off to his media duties. Walking through the sliding doors the first person you see is George signing a few hats. He looks up.

“My word, did someone punch your lips?” You rush over to a nearby mirror as you take in your appearance. Your lipstick was everywhere. Bring up your sleeve, you quickly try brushing away. 

“Not a word of this to my dad.” 

And no he never told Toto, but he knew he couldn’t hold onto this by himself. 

“...It has to be someone on the grid. But who…” Carmen, George, Lily, and Alex had gone out on a double date when the Brit spilled the beans.

“What if it’s Max? Have you seen the way he looks at her!” Lily exclaims as she purses her lips. Alex shakes his head in disagreement.

“No. It definitely has to be Carlos. I mean look at him! That’s straight up her type.” Oh. I didn’t even think of that one, Lily pouts.

“You both got it wrong, it’s Lando. They get along so well, plus, they would look so cute together.” Carmen swoons at the image. George pretends to gag.

“Darling…friends… let me explain.” They all sit there eager for the next candidate. “It’s definitely Lewis.” The table dies.

“Mate! You’re insane. He’s old enough to be her dad!” Alex cripples over laughing as he leans his head against his girlfriend's shoulder. She pats his head.

“He’s right, George. It just doesn’t make any sense.” 

Whatever, he thinks to himself. It might be him.

-

“I lost her! Shit, I lost her!” George panics to his girlfriend as she stares up in confusion. What do you mean you lost her! He cringes. “As in; she's gone! And I keep calling Lewis and he’s not picking up and- oh.”

Carmen’s eyes grow wide. “You don’t think…” George laughs wickedly.

“I told you so! Wait until I tell Alex. Alex!” She slaps her hand over his mouth.

“Are you crazy? You can’t just go around claiming this when it might not even be true!” He immediately deflates. You’re right, you’re right-

“Either way, Lando’s missing too.” She giggles as he stares with a deadpan expression.

-

“Shit!” Charles hisses in pain as he bangs his head against the wall. You let out a sweet laugh. 

“Be careful. Also, be quiet!”

You were supposed to be meeting with Toto to go grab dinner with the team and Charles had a last minute defrief to get to, but there was something far more important.

You were both horny.

“Mhmm,” he mumbles as he slips you onto the counter that sits in the privacy of his motorhome. Scrunching your mini dress around your thighs he gets down on his knees as he drags your panties down with his teeth, a teasing look painting his eyes. You bite down on your erupting moan. 

“As much as I love this, I need you to be fast.” He chuckles as he stands up to his full height, slipping his suit down as his cock springs out, looking painfully hard. You lick your lips. His strong hands grab your hips to scoot you closer towards him. You giggle as he pecks your lips one final time before slipping inside of you.

Normally, you moan as loud as you please, but you know you can’t right now. So, you bite the inside of your cheek as he begins thrusting in the most delicious way. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you softly pant.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. He knows how much you love to be vocal and seeing you trying not to be in order to not get caught has him downright impressed. His hips pick up the pace as you silently whine. His cock brushes against your g-spot and that has you feeling as if you’re going to burst. Slow down, Charles, you moan. He cocks his head to the side. “Sois une bonne fille et prends-le.”

Nodding frantically your hand squeezes against his forearm for support.

“Charles are you almost done changing?” Carlos taps his fingers against the door as he waits for his teammate. Trepidation fills you at the thought of Carlos walking in on you. You had both been keeping this a secret and this was definitely not the way you wanted someone to find out about your relationship. 

“Charles, s-stop,” you whisper, but this only seems to make Charles snap his hips faster. You want to scream when you feel his cock all the way deep inside your stomach. He suppresses a loud groan.

“Just a minute! Go on without me.” You hear a low, Just don’t take too long. Footsteps grow further as the Spaniard struts away. You sigh but that’s quickly replaced when your boyfriend tosses your left leg over his tan shoulder. 

“Oh my God.” Eyes are looking straight at Charles as he admires the way his cock disappears inside of you. The thought makes you blush. He softly kisses your ankle as you moan louder, you feel your tummy grow tighter. “Charles, oh God, I’m gonna cum-”

He covers your mouth, muffled cries vibrating against his hand as he feels you clench around him. The warmness that splatters around his cock makes him bite your ankle as he finishes inside of you. You squirm in pain.

Panting, he lets go of your leg and kisses your temple. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” You shake your head. 

“I’m okay.” Seeing your fucked out state has him glowing with pride that your his and that only he gets to see you like this. He gives you one last kiss as he pulls out of you. You choke at the slight sensitivity. Sorry, he mumbles as he cleans you up.

You both go your separate ways as it dawns on you that you feel so…complete. It’s a weird feeling to have, but as soon as you remind yourself that this is Charles - your Charles - you don’t feel so lost anymore. Grinning, you walk towards your dad.

“You took forever,” he scolds you before letting out a soft smile, kissing the top of your head. He takes a whiff. “Did you run here?”

“Um, why do you ask?”

He stares at you like a hawk before rubbing his eyes. “No reason. You’re just sweating a bit, that's all. Anyways, we should get going.”

That same day you quickly disappear to a nearby shop to buy a cheap perfume.

“Mmm. Flowers.” Lewis sniffs as he walks past you. 

-

“Are you serious?” Lily and Alex grew suspicious when they saw Carmen and George huddling up together like two detectives, so eventually, they went to investigate themselves. “Have you tried calling her?”

“Goodness! How did I not think about that?” Lily and Carmen shoot a dry look at the Brit before he shrinks down onto his seat. 

“Stop fighting and let’s just think,” Alex interrupts.

Lily’s eyes roam the club as she see’s Checo and Lance talking. Daniel is with Fernando, but wait-

Excited, she turns back to the group. “Max! It’s Max!” She jumps up and down as Alex stares at her in love.

“Sweet, sweet, Lilyicious, you’re wrong. C’mon we’ve talked about this.” She stomps her foot.

“Nu-uh. Look around with your big head.” She points around the club. “Max is missing. It makes sense.” 

“Okay, well Carlos is missing too, how do you explain that?” The couple huff in defeat as they plop down next to George. 

“Well this isn’t working. All our best bets are missing and so is she!” Carmen chugs down an entire glass of vodka as the three of them stare up at her scared. “We’re just going to have to look for her ourselves.”

-

Wanna come over to my room? Fifth floor, #254.

Butterflies fill you to the brim. On my way.

It’s a personal record, really, the way you dash to his room. Part of you thinks about waiting a couple of minutes before knocking, but you know can’t stay away for long. Closed fist almost reaches the wood as the door swings open. Charles stands there with a pair of workout shorts and white socks. Maroon bruises cover his chest from a few nights ago.

Walking towards him you brush your fingers against his chest. “I like where this is going,” you joke as he smiles, kicking the door shut. 

The way he kisses you is different. The type of kiss where someone is really trying to memorize the person. It’s still amazing, but why does it feel any different from the rest? You dig your lips deeper as if this would help you figure it out. His hands move to play with your hair as he pulls away. His fingers feel nice. “Let’s sit.” 

Once you settle onto his comfy bed you stare at him in awe. How is it that he ever paid you any attention? He could have anyone, but he chose you? That must count for something. “I was thinking maybe now's a good time to let everyone know we’re together.”

He clenches his jaw. “I don’t know…”

You tuck your legs under your butt as you lean a bit forward. “Okay, maybe you’re right. Let’s start off slow. Maybe just our friends?” Taking one look at him makes you feel like an anthill. “Or what do you think?”

Taking in a shallow breath he doesn’t look at you when he says, “I want to break up.” You stop breathing.

He doesn’t say I think we should break up or there’s something wrong. No, he just jumps straight to the point. No explanation. 

But you need one.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” This time he looks at you and his eyes don’t hold the same shine they normally do. The kind you love on him. Now they’re dark and empty. Did I do that?

“It’s just that…” He trails off when he notices you looking at him as if he’s really about to try to save your relationship. “...I need to focus on the Championship.”

You bite your lip as you try reaching out for his hands, but when he slightly pulls away before you even can, it makes you shrink. Settling your hand on your lap you let out a shaky breath before pretending to smile. “Of course. I get that. I can give you some space.”

He shakes his head, eyes looking down to his feet. “No. I just can’t be dating you right now.” When you were 7 and your dad accidentally stepped over your favorite tea cup you had claimed  that was the worst pain you have ever felt.

Nothing would beat Charles’ words.

“Me? You can’t be dating me right now, okay.” You start putting your shoes back on and he stares at you with an open mouth.

Stay. I never meant any of this.

But it was too late.

Entering the elevator you’re sobbing, feeling like a nobody. What did you do wrong? Everything was going great. The doors slid open as the last person you wanted to see, apart from Charles, walked in. 

“Honey, are you okay?” Toto frantically searches for any cuts or anything that might be causing you pain. Surface level, you want to cry out. You’re looking surface level, but you won’t find anything.

Tying your arms around his waist he immediately hugs you back, trying to understand. 

“Daddy, I want to go home.”

-

“That’s it. I’m calling him.” The Brit pulls out his phone before his friend yanks it away.

“Do you want to lose your job?” Quickly, he shakes his head. Alex tsks. “But we’ve looked everywhere! God, I’m gonna get fired regardless…”

“Bathroooooom. I need to go to the bathroommm.” A body sways, bumping into Lily, sending her flying towards Carmen. 

“Watch where you’re going dickhe- oh! Max!” The Dutch man squints his eyes. Do I know you?

“Don’t bother, he’s completely wasted,” Daniel says as he brushes past the group. But George is desperate. Shaking him by the shoulders, he questions Max.

“Have you seen her? Was she with you?” 

Max lazily puts a finger over George’ lips. He sighs at the silence. “Much better…no. I haven’t.” They all groan. Letting go, Max zigzags away.

“So, it’s not Max.”

-

I was homesick. That’s all. 

Your mom raises an eyebrow. “But you love traveling, this is new.” You shrug lamely.

“I just really missed you and Jack.” You both look over to your little brother where he silently sits there entertained with his coloring book.

“No you didn’t.” You laugh as Susie stands up to brush your hair. “Honey, what actually happened?” 

A weak smile forms itself onto your lips. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

-

“Should we call the police?”

Lily exhales, rubbing her fingers against her lap nervously. “No. I still think we can find her.”

Alex nods. “Try calling Lewis again.” A disgusted look maps itself on George’ face.

“Gross. No, what if they’re hooking up?” They all groan. 

That’s definitely not true at all, Carmen mumbles. “I still say it’s Lando.” Daniel is passing by with a feathered boa. “Danny!” she shrieks. His pearly whites make her smile. “Do you know where Lando is?” Daniel looks up at the ceiling before clicking his fingers.

“I last with him with baby Wolff!” Carmen jumps up in excitement. 

“See George I told you! I told you so! Eat and-”

“...Oh no nevermind that wasn’t him. It was…oh. Who was it?” He covers his face with the boa as he thinks about it.

“Hand that over. I’m about to kill myself.” The group turns to face Lando. His face is flushed as he strips the boa from his teammate. Daniel lets out a sore cough as Lando pulls it off him, but the Australian had it wrapped around his neck. Sorry mate, he apologizes.

George rushes over to the younger Brit. “Where were you?” 

“I’m okay,” Daniel croaks out as he takes a sip of Lily’s drink. 

“I was trying to get a girl's number.” Carmen’s eyes shine. “Word of advice: always make sure they’re not married.” He walks away.

“Dammit. I was almost sure it was going to be him."

-

“Please, don’t hang up!”

His voice is raspy from the cold as you lie warm in your bed. You can already smell your favorite homemade pancakes your mom always makes for you when you’re feeling down.

“Tough, because as you can see, I just don’t want to talk to you.” You’re about to hang up before he shoots out a quick, Too late. I’m downstairs.

Now, you’re definitely awake. You quickly try to make yourself seem presentable before you rush downstairs. And he was there, sitting with Susie as they both ate your favorite pancakes.

You stand there with your matching PJ’s and one white tube sock. Charles smiles fondly as you blush. 

“You forgot your other sock…” Jack tugs at your shirt to gain your attention as he holds his arm out. 

“Thank you, baby.” You quickly slip it on. 

Susie walks to Jack as she picks him up. “Let’s go, Jackie. This is what we call privacy.” As they both walk down the hallway you can still hear her say, Do you know what privacy is?

“Is she…” 

You stare at him blankly. “She’s teaching him how to respect others.” A distant smile. “Holy shit! Wait! Maybe she can teach you.” He winces.

“Look, I just want to talk. Please…” You take a seat across from him as you snatch his plate away and begin to eat.

“I’m only listening because there’s a really delicious plate right in front of me, but you only have 5 minutes, then I want you to leave.” He nods desperately.

“So, um, that night…”

You can’t help the shaky breath that slips past your lips. You hate that he’s getting to you, because it's not what he deserves. You stubbornly would have bought yourself a diamond ring if you had known he would be here.

“...That night. I never meant anything that I said.” The way you want to laugh has him hurrying to get all his words out. “The media, all the stress, was getting crazy and I was a fool to let that get to me.”

“Are you just word vomiting?” He chuckles.

“This is me telling you that I messed up. I screwed up. I fucked up. Whatever you wanna call it, but you don’t know how much I regret that day. How cold I was being to you.”

“You didn’t even try. You never even let me help you,” you whisper as he shakes his head. I know amour, I know.

He grabs your hands. Soft and warm and his. “If you need me to beg, I’ll beg…But please. Give me one more chance.”

Looking deep into his eyes you slowly nod, almost as if you can’t believe this is really happening. 

“One more chance.”

-

“If we’re being quite honest, I never thought it would just be you and me, George.” The two best friends share a high five.

“I can’t even believe it. One of us might actually have it in the bag!” Carmen and Lily scoff at their boyfriends. 

“Let me remind you that she’s still missing, dork.” Lily smirks as George snaps out of it.

“You’re right, but we’re getting closer.”

Standing behind Lily, Alex wraps his arms around her shoulders. Despite everything going on around them, Lily still leans in. “Babe,” he starts. “You might actually have a winner in your han- fuck!” His girlfriend jumps up.

“What!”

“Hey, have you guys seen Charles?” Carlos stands there with a puzzled look as Alex curses him out. I bet my money on you! He slaps a 100 dollar bill to George as he does a small celebratory dance with Carmen.

Lily steps aside. “We haven’t, but I think I remember him being with Pierre and Kika. They were talking about - nevermind - that’s not what matters here!” 

Carlos hums. “Okayyy then. Just let me know if you do. He’s my ride back.” He walks away.

“Well, well, well,” George clicks his tongue, tall frame leaning against the table. “And then there was one.”

-

“Are you both sure?” 

Things had taken a sharp turn that it even had you questioning your sanity.

“We’re sure.” You gaze at the bright rock that sits on your finger as Charles rubs soft circles on your hand. You mom sighs, but deep down she’s proud of both of you. Overcoming past mistakes together is a huge deal when it comes to marriage. Jack giggles as you flash your ring up. Charles smiles and Susie can tell by his dazzling green eyes.

The Monegasque is in love.

“You can’t tell dad yet, though!” you yelp as your mom stares back with an open mouth.

Why not?, she says at the same time Charles asks, She can’t?

Shaking your head you kiss your fiance's cheek before facing your mom. “It’s just that he wouldn’t understand. At least not yet. Right?”

Charles nods slowly, not fully seeing where this was going. “Whatever you say, mon amour.” Susie winks in approval. Charles feels quite proud of that one.

“I’ll respect your choice,” she says loudly as Jack chirps up. He nods as he keeps quiet. “Right, I’ll respect it, but you have to find a way to let him know soon enough.” Getting up, you hug her tightly.

“Thank you! And yes I have a plan. Top tier. He won’t even see it coming.”

-

“Now it makes sense why they’re so close! All those late night drives, breakfasts in the morning. No wonder I wasn’t invited for a few of those!” 

“Yeah. That’s why,” Alex shoots as he snickers. Carmen softly pats her boyfriend's shoulder as she lets out a playfully grimace. George flips him off.

“You’re just mad because I actually got something right for once!”

“You said it. For once.”

“Oh, you bi-”

“Huh? Huh! Speak louder you gira–”

“Guys!”

Cut short from their heated argument they all turn their attention.

Lewis stands there with a worried expression. His facial lines noticeable as he pinches his face in slight fear. “I’ve been looking everywhere, but I can’t find her. Oh, God, Toto’s gonna kill me…”

George has his fist wrapped around Alex’s collar as he stares with his mouth hung open. Alex laughs as he pushes George off. 

“Aha! I knew it! There was just no way!” George groans as he tugs at his floppy hair. 

Lewis looks lost. “I don’t have time for this, have you seen her?” They all shake their head as they explain their theory that involved the 7x World Champion. He shudders.

“Gross! She’s like a daughter to me!” 

“Thank you!” Carmen, Lily, and Alex shout as George shrugs. 

“Okay, so let’s backtrack: She couldn’t have been with Max because poor boy is too drunk to even remember his own name, she wasn’t with Lando since he’s too busy hiding from someone’s husband-” 

George and Alex giggle.

“She definitely wasn’t with you,” Lily points to Lewis as if it were impossible for you and him to be in the same sentence. Way to rub it in, he pouts. She shrugs her shoulders as an apology. “And she wasn’t with Carlos because he’s too busy looking for…”

Their eyes grow wide.

“Jesus fucking Christ, where is the bathroom!” Max swings his arms, almost knocking down Yuki. Sorry Uki, he murmurs as he furrows his eyebrows.

“Yuki,” the Japanese driver corrected him.

“Whatever.” Max waves in dismissal. Alex drags the Dutch closer to them. 

“There’s one right here.” Max almost starts to cry as he spots the bathroom that stood close by the group. 

“Thank youuuu.” He rushes towards the restroom as he tugs harshly. He lets out a whine as he bangs his head against the wall in frustration. “I swear I am going to kick this door down…”

Alex runs over. “Don’t do that, mate. Again.” He kisses his bicep  as winks over to his girlfriend. Watch this, he mouths. 

But it won’t budge.

“Move over,” George says as he starts rolling up his sleeves. This one’s for you, Carmen. The brunette girl cringes as she covers her eyes. He groans as he pulls with all his strength. “One minute…”

Lewis lets out a sigh as he walks over and pushes his teammate to the side. Wrapping both hands around the handle he leans back and pulls. Both Lily and Carmen drool over his rippling muscles.

“At least try to hide it,” George muffles.

Suddenly the door swings open. Max cheers as he runs in.

“Gotta pee, fuck, get out!” 

Two flying bodies are thrown out as they both crash onto a nearby couch.

“Dickhead!” you yell out as you rub your head. Charles groans in pain with you on top of him. The entire room grows silent. Well, as silent as it could get in a club. 

“Young lady, when your father finds out!” Lewis exclaims, hands against his hips.

“You’re fucked,” George laughs. “Literally.”

There’s really no way of hiding it. Your short skirt is riding up a tad bit too high as you yank it down. Lipstick stains cover the Monegasque’s face.

“Not a word.”

-

“And how do you think you guys are going to keep it under wraps?” Susie questions as Charles looks at you with an intrigued face. Yeah. How are we?

Rolling your eyes you take a bite of the now cold pancakes. You gag. 

“Easy. We can just pretend to hate each other for a while, make dad believe I’m following his long lasting rule of not crushing on any driver and after a while he’ll trust me and ta-da! We’re getting married, baby!”

You flash a proud smile as Charles high fives you.

Your mom raises a skeptical brow as she leans against her chair. Giggling, you put your hand over hers.

“How hard could it be?”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #wolff!reader

[ivysoul]

me when i’m the first person to request a lil carlos fic from youuu 😁 here’s what i’m thinking.

carlos is a pussy eating god. literally would stay between your thighs for hours, and he has. reader starts feeling bad, feeling like she doesn’t give him the proper gratitude he deserves for taking care of her all the time. so she’s determined to give him the most toe curling, sheet gripping, life altering head imaginable, not letting up until she feels like he’s had enough.

tl/dr: reader gives carlos the head of his lifetime, practically overstimulating him ^^ (i hope this made sense.)

𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 masterlists

pairings carlos oliveira x fem!reader

summary since the beginning of the relationship, carlos has spent majority of his time in between your thighs, bringing you to the stars. now it’s time to return the favour and increase it tenfold than what you were doing before.

warnings most sheet gripping oral i’ve ever written (m), praise, reader calls carlos good boy like once, overstim, two orgasms. nothin too crazy !! (carlos also calls the reader mama a lot don’t talk abt it i literally can’t stop.) not proof read don’t come for me.

notes me when you me when venus me when when when

“What’s gotten into you?”

It was right of Carlos to be suspicious of you when you all but jumped on him the moment he walked in the door. Your hands ventured across his body, giving his large biceps a few firm squeezes before going to wrap around his neck. And the kisses were passionate (as always), but needy. So incredibly needy.

You were never this visibly antsy, you were always able to tone it down even if all you wanted was Carlos. But he was gone for almost two weeks and you found yourself missing his company and feeling incredibly lonely.

“What, a woman can’t miss her boyfriend now?”

Your fingers looped into the waistband of his pants, but not venturing too low. However Carlos, having spent too fucking long away from you, felt his body react before his brain could catch up. His t-shirt made him feel too hot and clammy and he needed to get it off. Preferably in the bedroom. With you.

“You’re acting like I was gone for such a long time, sweetheart,” even he didn’t believe the words entirely himself, because it was a long time. Any amount of time away from you is a long time to him.

You didn’t respond, figuring your actions would speak for themselves. So, you dragged him by his belt loops to the bedroom and took his clothes off for him one piece at a time.

Carlos smiled down at you but furrowed his eyebrows. “Y’know, I was gonna take a shower. I would assume that’d be more hygienic before we do this.”

You chuckled lightly. “You could roll around in cow shit and I would still wanna fuck you,” he stared at you. “Okay maybe that’s a bit of a stretch but you get the point. A bit of dirt never scared me.”

He rolled his eyes playfully as you pushed him onto the bed, crawling your way over to him. You sat hovered over his half hard cock, reattaching your lips to his and tugging roughly at his hair. The action caused for him to moan into your mouth and squeeze his arms around your body tightly.

Your gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Missed you so much, baby,” you pulled away to say, a bit breathless.

“I missed you, too, honey,” he smiled at you lovingly. He’ll never get tired of looking at you. “Want me to make you feel good?”

You almost nodded, too into the routine of him coming back and finding home in between your thighs. But instead, you shook your head, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to hold back a grin from looking at his confused expression.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause it’s your turn.”

Those words alone caused his cock to reach a full erection.

You didn’t give him head often, he always insisted on the fact that your pleasure came before his. Plus, in his eyes, if he got to have sex with you, it was enough. He got most of his pleasure from giving you yours, and he didn’t have a problem with that one bit. But you did, for the most part.

So when you did suck him off, you made sure it always topped the last occasion. This time was no different.

You started placing kisses on his neck, making your way down to his collarbones, leaving little lovebites on his skin. It looked like a trail going from his collarbones to behind his ear and it made you giggle, which in turn made Carlos giggle.

Though his laughing stopped when your brushed your thumb across the tip of his cock. The laugh trailed off into a whine, and it made you smirk.

Your lips are at his v-line now and your free hand is tangling in his happy trail. Your kisses are sloppy and wet, and when you lean back to look at his cock, you audibly moan at the sight.

The tip was an angry red colour and leaking pre-cum. And god, you didn’t even know he could get this hard. “So pretty, baby. Your cock is so, so pretty.”

Carlos didn’t expect you to take his entire length down your throat in one go, but here you were. You gagged when he hit the back of your throat, tears immediately accumulating in your eyes, but you kept going when Carlos let out a throaty moan. The sound made your clit throb.

“Holy fuck,” his voice was strained. You freed his cock from your mouth and trailed your tongue up a prominent vein, circling around his tip when you made it to the end of the vein. You pumped his cock with your hand, relishing in the way he was so needy for your touch.

Then, you ducked up head down and took one of his balls into your mouth, sucking and kissing at it as he groaned. His fingers laced through your hair, trying his best to keep it at light tugs, but he found it harder and harder as time went on. “Shit, mama. So fuckin’ good at this.”

You squeezed around his tip and hummed in appreciation, which of course, only made him whine. Moving to his cock once again, you took him into your warm mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down agonizingly slow.

Carlos tried—he really did—to keep his self control, but every ounce of it was lost to you. His hips suddenly bucked up into your mouth and made you gag, not that either of you were complaining whatsoever.

You sped up your pace now, leaving Carlos a moaning and whining mess. Moans of your name repeatedly leaving his lips. He looked so pretty like this. Hair disheveled, lips swollen and wet from the previous kissing and him biting down on them. The pleasure he was feeling in this moment was intense. He hasn’t felt like this in a while. His head was spinning and his abs were tense. He felt like a fucking teenager with how badly he needed you.

“Mama—‘M so close. Fuck, fuck,” his fingers tangled in your hair and tugged harder than he meant to, but it caused for you to moan around his cock, which sent vibrations of pleasure directly through it. “Uhng! Sh-hit…”

You moved one of your hands from his thigh to his balls and cupped them, groping them firmly, just how you know he likes it. So it was no surprise when he felt his orgasm approach way too quickly for his liking.

You lifted your mouth from him, a thick string of saliva connecting you to his tip. With a hand moving up and down his cock in fast motions and the other on his balls, you looked up to him through your lashes, wet with tears. “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum down my throat?”

“Fuck yes, mama. Gonna fuckin’ cum. Needa cum so bad. Please,” you always loved it when he begged. So how on earth could you possibly tell him no?

And he came when you resumed your actions. He released a noise that sounded like a mix of a moan and groan as he came down your throat, shooting hot, white ropes of cum. You swallowed every bit that he gave you without once lifting your head. And then continued.

If he was gonna spend hours on end with his mouth on you, you were gonna spend some time with your mouth on him. Despite his overstimulated state and his whines for you to lay off.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, shit!”

His sounds were like music to your ears that wanted to bottle up and keep to yourself. Unlike his usual deeper voice, his voice now was higher pitched. You loved it when he got like this.

The pain mixed with the pleasure made him see literal stars. His chest was heaving and his ears were ringing, but god did he love it. “M-Mama—oh f-fuck! Can’t. Can’t.”

You squeezed his thigh assuringly, letting him know that he could get through this. Besides, you weren’t sure you quite payed back the favour yet. You could tell he was getting close again, by the way his hands were getting more and more restless and the way his cock twitched in your mouth.

And then he was cumming inside your mouth a second time. Unlike last time, you lifted off of him to swallow, deciding to give your throat a small break before you went at it again. You could definitely see why he loved to eat you out for so long.

You beamed at him, smiling sweetly and rubbing his thighs soothingly. “You did so good f’r me, my love. Such a good boy, yeah?” Your voice was hoarse and your throat burned a bit, but quite frankly, you didn’t care one bit.

He looked down at you with low lidded eyes and smiled weakly. “Yeah. ‘M good f’r you, mama. Love you so much.”

“I love you too, hon,” you manoeuvred your way up to straddle his hips again and kissed him deeply, and he moaned at the taste of himself on your tongue. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 📁 ꒰ carlos oliveira ! ⊹˚. ♡ ꒱ #i kinda wanna write another part to this #like where it’s carlos eating the reader out #since he most definitely is the pussy eating god #also he’s a bit more subby than i intended but i literally couldn’t help myself it just happened #sorry guys😔 #i’m such a switch but mostly a dom i can’t help it #fully prepared for this to flop too #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira smut #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira resident evil #resident evil #resident evil 3 #resident evil 3 remake #re3 #re3 remake #resident evil smut #smut #reader insert #saintlulls

[ovaryacted]

Me writing for DI! Leon means I get to make him as hairy as I fucking want because I absolutely, positively, 200% believe that he has a nice happy trail and leg hair.

The manly hair testosterone hormones didn’t really kick in for Leon until he was 29 cause of stress and trauma, so when he could finally grow out that stubble it never left his face. But DI! Leon is a whole different ballgame. He’s not hairy like a werewolf (that’s more Carlos for sure), but he definitely has more body hair in that era cause he just kinda stopped focusing on it as time goes by.

You’d just like to watch him trim the stubble or shape it up, maybe even shave it off and let it grow back a bit. But you constantly tell him to keep it, that you like the way it feels when he kisses you or when he nuzzles into your neck. You enjoy the sensation of having his cheeks rubbing against your inner thighs as he eats you out, grabbing on to his head and pulling him in closer. Sometimes you’ll squeeze your legs around his head on purpose so you can feel the friction of the prickly hairs on his jaw scratching at your skin, only heightening the sensations for you.

Imagine riding him on his thick thighs and he has leg hair, feeling it against your skin every time your hips came back down on to his body. Think about the fact that he has a happy trail and trims his pubes a bit but doesn’t fully remove it CAUSE HES GROWN! So whenever you suck his dick so messy in the way he likes, the spit just spills all over and builds into a small puddle at the base of his pelvis. His favorite thing to do is watch you slurp it back up, how your nose nuzzles into his skin whenever you deep throat him. Don’t even mention the way he moans when you put his balls in your mouth, slurping on them like no tomorrow.

But the best part of it all? He loves it when he gets the white ring surrounding his cock when he fucks you. He wants to see the way you clench and cum around him, how your fluids stain his skin and pelvis, like your own personal way of marking him. He wants to smell like you, hell even taste like you. Probably enjoys putting you in a chokehold so you can feel his bicep curling around your neck, having your hands grab at his forearm and caressing the hair on his skin. If he’s not able to still feel the remnants of your release on his top lip, he’ll make sure it sticks elsewhere.

Petition to make him more hairy? Everyone raise your hands. I SAID FUCKING RAISE THEM! I KNOW Y’ALL ARE OUT THERE! Don’t be shy this is a safe space.

#ovaryacted thoughts #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy headcanons #like pls look at that man and tell me he not a freaky frog #he is I think so #just hairy and YUMMY AND MMMMMM YEAHHHH #need it #FAWK #I’m so unhinged holy shit #instead of writing a fic this is what I’m thinking about #still important tho

[fernandopiastri28]

Oscar is angry about carlos situation and his Miami GP result so y/n helps him relax (maybe a handjob,maybe Smut..you chose)

the city that keeps the roof blazing ~ oscar piastri

| warning ~ smut, degrading language. MDNI

Y/N’s heart thrums in her chest, an anxious sweat pooling across her back under her corset dress. Oscar’s not doing well, having taken a hit from the Ferrari of Carlos Sainz and losing his front wing as a result. He’d had to pit, finding himself in last, only in front of Logan who’d already DNFed. Her nails are bitten up, rough on the edges. She can hope and pray for at least a points finish, even if it’s just one or two, but at this point, the whole situation is looking rather dire.

If Oscar doesn’t already despise Carlos, he certainly does now. 

In the final few laps, the team instructs Oscar to basically not pull anything stupid and risk Lando getting his first win. It’s honestly offensive of them, as if Oscar has ever done something to sabotage anyone else in any circumstances. In anything, the McLaren team should be focusing on getting a penalty awarded to Carlos for his shitty stunt against Piastri or figuring out why the fuck Donald Trump is in their garage.

When a McLaren passes the chequered flag first, Y/N can’t even feel happy for Lando. She just feels fucked over for her boyfriend who’s being perfectly polite and mature over the radio but is gonna be absolutely destroyed once he’s out of shot from all the cameras and media. 

He’d been leading the race at one point, and now he’s having his first out of points finish of the year in 13th. Stupid Carlos, stupid fucking Carlos. Y/N looks around the rest of the garage at everyone jumping around and cheering for the brit’s win. She keeps her headset on, smiling politely as Oscar would be if he were here. She can’t muster up any excitement, so she’ll fake the bare minimum.

She navigates her way through flocks of commentators and team members as she attempts to find her boyfriend. “Oscar?” She has to crane her neck, searching for a papaya race suit that isn’t the one being showered in praises. As two men who tower over her push past, she bends her arm tighter to keep her bag in the junction of her elbow and close to her. 

“Y/N,” A tired voice calls out, Oscar tugging his balaclava off with one hand. “I’m not crazy right? You say that- that was all Carlos,” He pants, wiping a line of sweat that’s gathered over his top lip. Y/N rubs his cheek, applying pressure to where the outline from his helmet is especially dark. 

She nods, her hand squeezing his bicep through the thick material of his race suit. “Completely baby, you were doing so good.” She’s about to tell him that she was convinced today would be his first race win before her mind reminds her that telling him that isn’t going to make him feel better, in fact he’d probably feel even more shitty that she was expecting a win for him and he ‘let her down’.

He drops his head into his hands, letting out a noise that’s halfway between a sigh and a whine. “What is his problem with me? Because if it’s genuinely got to do with Lando and I being mates,” He groans, shaking his head in disbelief. “Just can’t deal with this right now,”

Before she knows it, Oscar’s being whisked away from her to be weighed and then dragged through endless interviews and media tasks. It’s the absolute last thing he wants to be doing, which is just going to make him more irritated and upset tonight. 

Y/N has to come up with something to cheer him up.

Something certainly. 

At the end of interviews, when they’re finally allowed to head home, Y/N slips her hand into Oscar’s, squeezing each of his individual fingers as she aligns the time of their feet hitting the floor. He just hums plainly, instead of laughing along with each pinch she gives to his digits. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Her tone is soft as they get into the car, Oscar’s eyebrows furrowed as he clicks his seatbelt in.

Oscar doesn’t need to be offered twice as he immediately shoots off into a rant. “He’s just so immature, he’s almost 30 and driving a 23 year old in his second year off the track. Each time I get blamed for it.” He starts the car, his eyes hyper focused on the road ahead as he just aimlessly insults Carlos. “I mean- he’s just an absolute idiot. I meant it when I asked if he was blind because in what reality did I deserve a penalty and he deserved a spot change?” 

Y/N keeps her eyes on him, watching as the muscles of his neck flex and tense, his cheeks getting hot, the veins in his hands becoming infinitely more defined as he grips the steering wheel. She’s ashamed of how turned on it makes her, seeing him like this. Maybe that’s exactly what he needs tonight though.

“And-and, fuck, he’s just soo desperate for another Carlando podium that he’s willing to drive me into a fucking wall just so he can stand on the top step with his precious Lando,” He mocks him, positively seeing red. “I’ve considered Logan my best mate for years longer than those two have known each other yet you don’t see me risking all of Carlos’ races so Logan can get a fucking point,” The swears are just spilling out of his mouth at this point, sounding like a second nature to a degree.

Her hand meets his thigh, rubbing it tenderly as a way to calm him down. “Keep going Osc, just let it all out,” Her voice is thick, warm, and sweet like honey. It’s exactly what he needs right now. He needs her next to him, needs her voice in his ear. 

Needs her hands on him.

“I just think he’s an entitled brat who doesn’t deserve a seat,” It’s harsh, but it’s coming straight from the heart. “I’m glad Ferrari dropped him,” It’s said accompanied with a long, drawn out sigh. He’s relieved, finally able to have gotten that all out.

Yet, there’s still a bugging sense of dissatisfaction deep in his bones that he knows he won’t get from continuously insulting the spaniard. Luckily for Oscar, he’s just about pulling into the hotel valet. 

With a single look at Y/N, he conveys everything he wants when they get to their hotel room, and lucky for him- she wants the exact same.

They maintain a sense of decorum in the elevator ride up, which can’t be said about each time Oscar has a bad race. Example, the 2023 Belgian grand prix. After his DNF, his mouth had been attached to her neck and his hands on her breasts the second the elevator doors shut. 

It had been a very awkward situation to apologise for after a family of four with two very young kids had entered the lift five flights before their hotel room.

But back to now, the second their hotel door clicks shut behind them, Y/N’s taunting him over to the bed with chaste kisses on his cheeks, each one just narrowly avoiding his lips. “You’re a crazy tease, you know that?” He groans, lacing his fingers into her hair and pulling her in for a kiss as they reach the bed. 

She replies with an ignorant shrug and a careless smirk, “It’s fun- getting you all riled up. Makes me feel like Carlos,”

Oscar’s touch sears hot against her skin, his glare even worse. “Don’t fucking mention him in our bedroom,” It’s barely a hiss, but it’s enough of a warning to keep her in line. Instead, she decides to take action on him. Her fingers drag along the hem of his polo, tantalising slowly. She doesn’t need to wonder why that is, it's the same as when he does it along the zippers of her dresses or buttons of her blouses. 

She wants him to beg for it.

“Please,” The heat between her legs is near unbearable from how desperate he sounds, and her thighs chafe from how she’s kept them squeezed together as an attempt to relieve some of the ache of her cunt. “Y/N, I need you,” 

The tips of her fingers jut down to splay across the bulge in his shorts, applying some sort of pressure to the spot. He groans, grabbing her wrist and pushing down harder so she’s fully palming him. He sits on the edge of the bed, looking all pretty and desperate just for her as she continues her ‘massaging’. “You’ll get it Osc, I promise,”

His legs are nudged apart by her hands as she sinks down to her knees in front of him. His eyes light up, his lips red and bitten up from how he’s been chewing down to keep in his whiny noises and begs. Her fingers expertly undo his shorts, poking him so he’ll lift his hips so she can pull the pants and his boxers down in one go. 

His cock doesn’t hit up against his stomach when his tight boxers are removed, instead just lays heavy between his muscular thighs. Truly a sight to be seen. “So hard,” Y/N marvels, gently sliding her cupped hand up and down his length. One pump, two pumps. “And needy,” He looks up at him through her lashes to where his bottom lip is tucked under his teeth and his cheeks are flaming red. 

Oscar bucks his hops forward instinctively, chasing the high of how good her hand, or mouth preferably, feels. He’s lucky when she doesn’t make him wait too long before she grants his wish, opening her mouth, flattening her tongue, and taking the majority of his length into her mouth. 

Y/N’s toes curl in an attempt to remove her somewhat of a gag reflex she has. Today, she wants to take him as deep as she can and make him feel as good as possible. It’s deeper than she was expecting, which is definitely a win in her books. Pulling back slightly, she focuses on the head for the time being.

A string of praises spill past his lips, “Fuck, yes, so so good.” His hand snakes into hold her hair, keeping her head in place as he gradually goes deeper. “Taking me so good, sucking me off like an angel,” Her lips stretch around his thickness, her eyes void of any emotion beyond lust as she stares up at him. 

Y/N’s tongue glides back and forth along the underside of his cock, disgustingly loud sucking noises filling up the entire hotel room. He cups her cheek, his thumb dragging along the bulging of her cheek. His hips inch forward, his cock stuffing her mouth full and moving towards doing the same for her throat. 

Y/N feels insanely good, and maybe even too good. Panic fills her head, what if Oscar’s still thinking about pleasuring her over himself. It’s typical Oscar, catering each sexual experience to prioritise her and her pleasure, even if it means he doesn’t cum as quickly as expected. Steadying her hands on his thighs,she pulls back gradually, “Fuck my mouth,” It’s not a question, suggestion, or even request. 

It’s a straight up demand.

“What, why?” His voice is more broken and weak than she’d expected. Hers is too, but that’s to be assumed when someone has a cock prodding the back of their throat. 

“Because I'm giving you head to make you feel good. This isn’t about my pleasure Osc,” Her voice is absolutely ruined and will likely be even worse by the end of this. Y/N cuts him off before he can begin to protest, which once again, she knows he will. “No but-s Oscar, just fuck my face,” He gives into the carnal desire as his hips begin to snap back and forth, burying into her throat. 

Drool spills out over her bottom lip and down her chin, her mind fuzzy without another tangible thought besides giving Oscar the best blowjob possible. Her jaw is aching but it’s ignored as she solely cares about getting him to orgasm. He huffs and groans, continuously sending praises mixed with harsh insults of calling her a slut and a whore as he gets more shallow with his thrusts, clearly very much so on edge.

She takes advantage of his situation, suckling solely on the sensitive tip as he warns her that he’s “So close Y/N, I’m ‘bout to cum,” The fact that she doesn’t budge or show any signs of slowing down tells Oscar enough. With three pumps of her hand on his cock, he’s spilling out into the wet heat of her mouth. As if time and consciousness is slipping further from her, his index and middle fingers tap her cheek to get her to pull off, then again to tell her to swallow.

Her jaw goes lax to show the proof that she did what he told her to as he takes his shirt off, gently wiping a mixture of cum and drool off her chin. Her eyes fight so hard to focus on the glorious sight of his toned abdomen and well filled in muscles as he cleans her up, but she’s so overwhelmed by the pleasure that she not only gave, but genuinely got from that experience. 

Oscar scoops Y/N up onto the bed, arranging her under the sheets so he can cuddle up against her, his chest to her back and his arms slung loosely around her stomach. “That was perfect,” He murmured, pecking at her cheek and ear as a further thank you.

Her throat does indeed ache, but it’s a worthy pain. “You’re not as upset about what happened with Car-” She can’t even finish the spanish ferrari’s name or her question before her boyfriend has his hand squished over her mouth.

“No saying his name,” He shakes his head, tutting disapprovingly. “But yes, I feel much better. Thank you babe,”

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #f1 #formula1 #formula one #f1 2024 #miami gp 2024 #miami grand prix #carlos sainz #oscar and carlos #ferrari f1 #mclaren f1

[kissitbttr]

watching the superbowl rn (i have no idea what is happening BUT)

more so a thought but like frat!miguel getting hella mad that his team is losing, like shouting n all, groaning nd stressing while all u can do is just stare the way his veins buldge whenever he yells……. (⸝⸝𖦹 ̫ 𖦹⸝⸝) fuck……… not me getting turned on by an angry miguek bye

BUT LIKE TAKE OUT ALL THAT ANGER OUT ON ME BAE… PLEASE…

WHY DIDNT I THINK OF THIS??? YOUR BRAIN BBY?

i’m a firm believer that miguel is a chiefs fan (LMAO) and seeing them losing to 49ers (the team that he insisted to beck and carlos will for SURE taking the L later on) is pissing him off,

“fuck! fuck, fuck! qué coño están haciendo ?!!”

miguel had insisted that you watch the superbowl with him and his frat brothers. despite you telling him that you don’t know jackshit about football and would probably ended up gettin bored, he bribed you with snacks and cuddles later on. sadly, you fell for it. who could even resist?

“what the fuck even was that play?” miguel suddenly stands up from his seat, accidentally knocking your leg over his lap. his hand moves to touch your ankle as a silent ‘sorry, princess’.

though you don’t know anything about this game, one thing you know for sure is how much you love seeing your boy friend gets riled up,

his thick calloused fingers run through his already messy hair—thanks to the sex you both had an hour ago— teeth clenching in anger with his bushy brows pulls together out of frustrations,

you never seen him look so sexy it’s driving you insane,

“who was that?! number four from 49ers”

“the rookie. moody or some shit” beck shakes his head, eyes focusing on the screen,

miguel lets out an exasperated groan, hands furiously rubbing up and down his face before putting them behind his head,

“you regret not putting your bet on mccaffrey, o’hara?” carlos teases from his left. earning a glare from the man,

“don’t fucking push it, you motherfucker” miguel points his finger at him. “the fuck is up with mahomes?!”

“not his skills, that’s for sure” carlos pipes quietly but that doesn’t go unnoticed by miguel. causing him to throw a pillow at him. “ow! easy!”

“why is taylor swift in it everytime kelce holds the ball? this ain’t about her!”

“do people still even give a fuck about her?”

“this is football moment! not a fucking mediocre popstar shit! who has control with the cameras anyway?!”

the banter is funny, really. not what you haven’t seen before anyway. but the highlight of it all is really miguel being absolutely defensive about his favorite team that the sight is making your knees wobble and your pussy wet,

his arms are crossed. biceps bulging because of it. red eyes not leaving the screen as his pupils furiously move from left to right, eyeing how the scene plays before him.

god, you feel so bad for being horny right now.

biting your lip, you decide to tease hin a bit. poking the back of his knee with your toes a couple times before he turns to glance at you,

“what is it, princesa?” at first he thinks that it’s because you wanted him to seat back beside you, and so he does so. reaching out to pull your legs back to drape over his lap but his eyes are now back to the tv,

tilting your head to the side, you watch how his expression settled into a deeper focus. lips formed into a concentration pout while his large hand rest on your bare thigh, giving it a squeeze every now and then. a simple confirmation from him to not leave you out,

“you’re so hot when you’re angry, miggy”

hearing that, his gaze then move towards you. seeing how your pupils dilated by looking at him, lashes batting in innocence matter before he drops to look at your bitten lip. he feels your fingers softly tracing up and down his chest.

oh… he knows that look,

shaking his head, “no, no, no. you can’t do this to me! not right now, baby! I’m watching the game!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about!” he protests, eyes leaving the screen to completely look at you when the game goes to commercial. “you’re giving me that ‘fuck me’ eyes! you know i can’t resist that!”

beck and carlos share a disgust glance with each other, shaking both of their heads before they move to grab another can of beer in the kitchen, not wanting to hear this couple’s banter.

you feign a look of fake surprise. “how dare you assume that! i’m just staring at you! can i not look at my boyfriend?”

“you’re gaslighting me, muñeca. that’s not okay! you think i don’t memorize every look that my own girlfriend has when she wants something?!”

“and what is it that i want?”

“you want to fuck me!” he exclaims. “and i want to as well! but this game is—“

“important to you. yeah yeah” you sigh dramatically before getting up,

“where are you going?!”

“to your room. i’ll be waiting there. naked. come find me if you changed your mind” you respond, eyes rolling. “five minutes or no tits for you for the rest of the night”

miguel panics at that, you don’t know if you’re being serious or not but it’s hard to tell. he watches you walk back upstairs to his room, contemplating whether or not he should follow you or stay here. his knee anxiously bounce up and down. he feels like this is a matter of life and death situation. like someone is pointing a gun behind his head.

but he made up his mind already,

beck could see that. he knows what his best friend about to do. that’s why his eyes are wide, shaking his head and put a hand out as if to stop him,

“no. no, o’hara. i know she’s your girl but you gotta put bros before hoes on this one! come on!” beck is begging at him, but it’s too late because miguel already bolts out of the sofa and sprint towards his room

“get your ass back here, o’hara! fuck!”

#alicia<3 #frat!miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara blurbs

[fxrmuladaydreams]

When they laughed, it made his heart swell. They would throw their head back nearly every time, as if it was the funniest joke in the world. He loved to watch the joy take over their features. It was like their laugh melted away all the bad things. His favorite part of their laughter, however, was how their hand would always land on his arm. It would linger on his skin as they giggled, sending fireworks through him.

With Oscar’s weekend

!! oscar weekend requests are now closed !!

i hope this is good, i always find it so hard to describe oscar’s personality/sense of humor because it’s so specific

It took people a while to understand Oscar. Oftentimes he was claimed to be reserved, a calm and serious driver. Some people even said he had a “stale” personality.

To be fair, he is a bit quiet, you could even say introverted, until he becomes comfortable around someone. Working at McLaren has helped a bit, what with working with one of the more extroverted drivers on the grid.

Lando practically yanks Oscar out of his shell, poking fun at him, making the Australian fight back with his own witty remarks, ending in both drivers in a fit of giggles.

He’s warmed up to the rest of the McLaren group over the last season, but one team member in particular was able to pull his attention to them whenever they walked in the room.

He met you during his rookie season, while he was still getting used to being an F1 driver. You always gave him a smile when you saw him, and quietly wished him luck before races. You had joined McLaren at the same time he did, as a part of their social media team. He felt more at ease knowing he wasn’t the only new person on the team.

It took a little while for him to gather the courage to actually speak to you. His quiet “hi”s turned into brief conversations about your day or his which then turned into seeking each other out in the garage.

You were always happy to be told you’d get to spend the day with Oscar, following him around while filming a new Unboxed video. You’d grown attached to the younger driver over the last year. You enjoyed spending time with him, probably more than a coworker should. You couldn’t help it though, he made it impossible to not want to be near him.

You loved his quick wit and his sarcastic comments. You knew that there weren’t many people who could fully understand his sense of humor, but you were glad to indulge him, listening to him make his comments about the race or other drivers, things he would never say in front of a camera or over the radio, to you.

It wasn’t meant to actually happen at first. He thought he was being quiet enough that no one could hear him as he mumbled to himself, unzipping his race suit so it hangs around his hips. Even in the loud garage though, he still hears it. He hears your laughter ringing through the machinery. He looks up to see you looking at him. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hide your laughter.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear anything, I promise.” You tell him, still trying to hide your smile.

Oscar thinks he must be dreaming. He swears he’s never heard a sound as beautiful as your laughter, and he decides then and there that he will do anything he can to keep hearing that sound.

He finds you after races now, and brings you to his driver’s room, somewhere you can have your own little “debrief”. He lets you talk about your work during the weekend, listening intently whether he had been with you during the weekend or not, then he tells you about his driving over the weekend.

He’s found that you tend to laugh more when he keeps his words unfiltered, when he truly says what he wants to, uncaring of how he sounds. He makes snarky remarks about the way Carlos drives, or about how he and Lando are talking about paying each other to crash into Max, and he’s gifted with your laughter.

He feels his face flush as you throw your head back, not hiding your face from him anymore. Your hand lands on his arm, softly squeezing his bicep as you try to catch your breath.

“You can’t crash into Max!” You get out in between breaths. “You’ll have all of the Netherlands at your throat!”

He smiles at you, his grin matching yours.

“Not if I make it look like an accident.” He shrugs, sending you into another fit of laughter.

You shake your head once you’ve calmed down. “No, Oscar Piastri is too good a driver to make mistakes like that.”

He ducks his head down, attempting to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“Lando Norris on the other hand…”

Oscar lets out a laugh of his own, leaning into you.

#oscar piastri x reader #formula one x reader #oscar weekend

[strandnreyes]

thanks @thisbuildinghasfeelings @fallout-mars @bonheur-cafe @kiwichaeng ! last one for this fic!

Carlos weaves his way around the tables, coming to join TK. Except he doesn’t stop when he gets to his side. He strokes a hand appreciatively down TK’s bicep and then kisses him once he swallows his sip of water. TK hums in surprise and forces his eyes shut, responding to the kiss for a moment.

“Do you wanna take a break?” Carlos murmurs and TK raises a brow.

“Really?”

Carlos tilts his head, eyes roaming TK’s body again. “There’s no one here right now and I’ve been watching you flex your muscles for the past thirty minutes.”

TK huffs a laugh. “I can’t believe you’re horny right now. I’m more worried about this coming together than I was about our wedding.”

Carlos snorts. “Nice, babe.”

TK reaches for his hand. “I got to marry you. I was going to be happy no matter what happened that day,” he says softly, and then his eyes drift out to the area around them. “I can’t say the same about my dad tomorrow.”

“TK,” Carlos squeezes his hand, drawing his attention back. “He will love it regardless of what it is because you did all of this for him. I’m betting he’ll cry.”

“I’m betting I’ll cry.”

Carlos smiles sweetly at him and TK sighs, stepping closer. “I can’t believe you wanted to have sex in the firehouse and I ruined the mood.”

Carlos shakes his head. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

tagging @reyesstrand @rmd-writes @three-drink-amy @theghostofashton @orchidscript @paperstorm @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @heartstringsduet @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @alrightbuckaroo @freneticfloetry @whatsintheboxmh @welcometololaland @herefortarlos + open tag!

#911 lone star #tarlos #wip wednesday

[f1amboyant]

Harder

Right now, he wants. He wants Carlos to fuck him fast and hard, he wants to be in control and forget about the frustration of his racing career. He doesn’t want tender or he doesn't need soft. “Carlos,” he exhales (commands). “Carlos, I want…” “I know what you want, love.”

OR: Charles seeks comfort in Carlos' bed after the Dutch GP 2023.

Smut, light angst, rough sex, friends with benefits, pining, top!carlos, bottom!charles

Read it on AO3

Charles lies, sprawled on the bed and mindlessly scrolling on his phone when Carlos eventually finds his way back to his hotel room after the race. He looks up to see his teammate freeze for a second on the doorstep.

Carlos always looks stupidly good and hot after a race and this time doesn’t disappoint. His hair is as lustrous and thick as usual (Charles wants to thread his fingers through that beautiful mane), his eyes are huge and dark (Charles could drown in their depth) and his cheeks look slightly flushed still (would it feel warm to the touch if Charles were to kiss his skin right now?)

Unfortunately for his poor heart, Charles wants him whole.

He wants him bad.

Bad.

“Charles,” Carlos says, a bit surprised.

Sharl. Such a soft sound on that tongue. Charles could drink it all.

“How did you get into my room?”

“Rupert gave me a spare key.”

“Ah.”

It didn’t take much effort to make Carlos’ trainer cave to Charles’ whims and that, in itself, should be alarming but Charles couldn’t care less at the moment.

“Are you okay, mate?” Carlos asks.

“Mmh.”

Carlos frowns at Charles non-verbal response but doesn’t comment on it (he sees right through it, anyway). He makes sure the door is locked then walks up to the side of the bed. He grabs at the easiest part of Charles’ body that he can access (his bicep) and squeezes. Charles lets him.

“I need to shower. Wanna join?” Carlos says softly.

So Carlos understands why Charles is here. Good.

“Go ahead, I already showered. I’ll wait here.”

Carlos lingers a few seconds longer, his gaze moving across Charles' body in a trail that sets his skin on fire and makes his heart beat faster. He feels warm and scrutinized at the same time.

"I am not made of sugar," Charles protests. "I'll be okay. Go. You stink anyway."

Carlos laughs and finally leaves for the adjacent bathroom. Charles opens a new app on his phone to pass the time. He closes it quickly after scrolling through enough memes about Ferrari's strategy and their screw-ups to make him feel sick.

He feels ill. Behind the steering wheel, Charles can control a lot of things, but what his team does, he cannot. He needs to get back in control.

He needs Carlos.

It doesn't take long for Carlos to emerge back from the bathroom, wearing a wet white towel over his hips and nothing more. As he steps back into the room, his skin glistens beautifully, all of his toned body on display.

Well. Almost all.

Carlos pauses a few steps away from the bed (too far away for what Charles needs) and Charles throws the phone away.

He needs him.

Now.

“What do you want, Charles?” Carlos asks softly.

Love me, Charles wants to ask. Love me like no one else can, love me better than everyone else, love me better than life itself, better than that stupid life that is playing a sick game of unfairness with me right now. Love me like you mean it.

But he can’t say that and any other words are stuck in his throat. So he does the only thing he can think of.

As obviously and as suggestively as he can, he opens his legs.

Wide.

Carlos’ gaze turns dark, visibly swallowing. But still, he hesitates.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am more than sure, Carlos.”

Carlos doesn’t wait for him to say it twice. The towel drops from his hips and, in all his glorious naked beauty, he strides to the bed and towards Charles.

People sometimes describe Charles as that perfect angelic figure carved by the gods. These people obviously haven’t seen Carlos. If Charles is carved by the gods, Carlos is a god. Smoldering gaze, high cheekbones and sharp jaw. All tan skin from head to toe. Muscular body moving with that powerful grace that makes Charles’ mouth water with want.

He is magnificent. And at this moment, he belongs to Charles.

Fully naked and a bit wet from the shower, Carlos kneels on the bed then leans over Charles, still clothed. Charles opens his legs wider for him, wraps his arms around Carlos’ back, pulling him closer.

With a hand on his cheek, the other on the mattress for support, Carlos leans down and finally kisses him. Hard. All big lips, forceful tongue and sharp painful teeth.

Charles whimpers.

He wants it all.

He wants it to hurt.

He wants it to hurt on the outside like he hurts on the inside.

Every race weekend feels the same. It starts with a light heart and a wide smile, excited to be back on the paddock. Getting back in the car and putting his hands on the steering wheel always makes his heart race, fast fast fast. But then they fumble and the joy slowly fades away. Free practices don't go as planned. Quali feels like driving through mud and sand and barely making it to the end. On Sundays, strategy doesn’t pay, pace is off and the car feels bad. They miss the mark.

They don’t win.

He wants to win.

More often than not this season, Charles doesn’t even get to cross the finish line (like today). It’s disappointing, it’s frustrating to the highest level. And what can he do? Nothing.

But here, with Carlos, he can do something.

Now he is in control.

And he loves it.

He loves him.

With a hand in black lush hair, Charles breaks the kiss. Carlos looks positively delectable above him, all disheveled with flushed cheeks and big red lips. Charles pulls on his hair, brings him closer to whisper in his ear:

“What are you waiting for, Carlos? I want you to fuck me.”

I want you to love me, he doesn’t say. I want to be in control again.

A sharp tug on the hair in his hand draws a desperate whine from Carlos that Charles wants to swallow whole.

“Fuck me, Carlos.”

“Okay, cariño. Okay,” Carlos pants.

Cariño. That pet name. Always on Carlos’ tongue for him, in their most intimate and private moments together. It makes Charles’ heart sing, it makes him weep. Because it is not real. Not really.

And Charles wants.

Right now, he wants. He wants Carlos to fuck him fast and hard, he wants to be in control and forget about the frustration of his racing career. He doesn’t want tender or he doesn't need soft.

“Carlos,” he exhales (commands). “Carlos, I want…”

“I know what you want, love.”

And then Carlos is getting out of the bed and getting away from him and no, that’s not what Charles wants at all.

“Carlos.” This time it comes out as a pathetic whine but he couldn’t care less. He wants, he needs, he…

“I know, cariño.”

Carlos drops a swift kiss on Charles’ forehead then goes to his bag while saying:

“Take off your clothes, Charles.”

Charles struggles to obey, almost tripping on himself as he throws his t-shirt and jeans away. And just like that, the balance shifts between them. Carlos overtakes him, takes the lead and Charles surrenders and follows. But just like in a race, just like in the car, he stays in control. This is exactly what Charles has been waiting for.

When Carlos comes back with a condom and lube, Charles is lying back down, ready, fully naked, legs parted wide to accommodate Carlos as he kneels back between them on the mattress.

“You look beautiful, cariño,” Carlos murmurs, all smooth and hot as he trails delicate and ticklish patterns on Charles’ sensitive inner thighs.

Charles’ heart flips, suddenly beating much faster, and he groans.

“Come on, Carlos. Fuck me, already.”

“Impatient, eh?”

“Carlos…” Charles warns.

“Okay, okay.”

The hand on his thigh moves slowly up his leg, making Charles squirm and moan, until Carlos’ fingers reach his cock, wrapping around it. Charles is already hard and the pressure of that big calloused hand is delicious but he immediately bats it away.

“Don’t make me come. I want you to fuck me.”

“I know, I know. But I wanna make it feel good for you, okay?”

Carlos strokes him languidly, almost tenderly, as he slowly lowers his head until his lips graze the tip of Charles’ cock. Brown eyes never leaving him, so big and so tender it hurts.

Charles wanted it to hurt, right?

Not like this.

“Okay?” Carlos asks again.

“Okay,” Charles exhales, relenting.

Carlos’ mouth on his cock, as he swallows him whole, is exquisite, a warm heat to lose himself into. Sinful. Perfect.

“Carlos!” He reaches for Carlos’ head, grabbing fistfuls of hair so hard it must hurt.

“Relax, cariño,” Carlos whispers on the underside of his cock where he licks a broad stripe with his hot tongue before sucking him back into his mouth.

Fuck!

Charles doesn’t hear the bottle of lube being open, but he feels the cold wetness at his entrance when Carlos pushes down there with his middle finger. He breaches him almost too easily and Charles welcomes it, like he can finally breathe. Like finally he is back in control. Like finally, he can get what he wants.

Finally.

They have done this enough time, fell into each other’s arms and bed after races to know perfectly what to do. The perfect amount of pressure from that hot wet mouth to keep him on edge but never make him come, the right amount of lube and fingers and angle to hit just right. And Charles' hands on Carlos’ hair, the praise and filth on his tongue.

“Yes, Carlos, yes. Just like that. Mmh, please more.”

It’s a strategy perfectly executed to the last minute details, a flawless race to the finish line and heartbeats thrumming in unison with their pleasure. Perfect. They work so well together. Too well.

“Carlos, Carlos. Come on. I’m ready. Fuck me. Please.”

Carlos releases his hard cock all shiny with spit and takes his fingers out. Charles feels empty.

“How do you want to do this?”

“Just fuck me, okay?”

Charles scrambles upright, pulls Carlos by the hair, hard, and brings their faces together. He kisses him, all teeth and force, tasting himself on delicious lips. Then he leaves Carlos panting for breath as he himself gets on his hands and knees, almost presenting his ass to his teammate. If he should feel shame about his depravity, there’s not an ounce of it in his body.

He wants to get thoroughly fucked and he’s not ashamed of it, thank you very much.

“Carlos? Come on,” he calls, looking over his shoulder from his position on the bed.

Carlos stays silent and unmoving for a couple of seconds longer, stunned. Then there’s the sound of the condom being open and rolled on in place.

“You really want this, uh?”

Carlos’ hands brand hot searing marks on Charles’ ass when he pulls his cheeks apart. Charles whines, pitiful and needy. He feels empty, in his body, in his heart, in his life. He needs this. He needs it. He needs Carlos. He needs…

Carlos pushes into him to the hilt without warning and Charles almost sobs with relief and pain and everything.

“Oh putain de merde, oui!”

Carlos doesn’t let him get his breath back. He pulls out just to push back in immediately. Hard. Just like Charles loves it. Just like he wanted it.

"Fuck! Harder," he groans.

"Charles..."

There's a sort of growl and warning in Carlos' voice that sends shivers through Charles' body. Carlos might act all mighty and dark on the track, but Charles is starting to know him deep inside. Carlos is soft, Carlos is tenderness incarnated. Always with sweet words, kind fingers and delicate kisses. Charles loves it.

Loves him.

But sometimes (like right now) he wants it rough. His mind buzzes, with everything, with too much and he just wants needs to quiet the noises.

"Harder. Come on, Carlos!"

Carlos obeys. He grips Charles' hips, leaving red imprints on the pale skin, and pushes back in. Hard. Punching Charles' breath out of him.

"Fuck!"

Charles falls on his elbows from the force of the thrusts, head smushed into the sheets. And Carlos just pushes into him, pushes and pushes and pushes. Hard. He fills him up. So big. So good. Charles' mind starts to unravel, pleasure and pain taking over. Thoughts escape him.

Good.

That's good.

A particularly hard thrust right on his prostate has him shouting, the sound muffled on the pillow, his hands gripping the sheets.

"Carlos..." he mumbles.

"Is this what you want, cariño?" Carlos pants behind him, never faltering in his rhythm. "Do you want it to hurt? Do you like it when I'm mean to you?"

Yes, yes, yes.

"Yes, Carlos, please."

Charles doesn't know what he is pleading for anymore, but still Carlos gives it to him. He folds himself in half behind Charles, brings them closer together. Charles can feel the broad chest plastered against his back, strong arms around his waist, and hands finally leaving his hips to wrap around his leaking cock.

The sound he lets out of his mouth is inhuman.

Carlos' beard scratches Charles' shoulder blade when he tucks his head in Charles' neck, his breath a hot tease on his ear. Charles can hear him panting hard, can feel him faltering in his rhythm, his thrusts more and more erratic as he loses himself in his pleasure too.

"Carlos..."

"Take it, love. Just take it."

Hard thrusts, quick jerks of hand over his cock. Carlos bites his shoulder. Just on the right side of painful. Just on the right side of too much. Charles comes in a shout of pleasure, in a sob of relief. Finally. Finally, he lets it all go. The bad luck and the worse races, he lets it go. His frustration and hopelessness dissolve into Carlos' embrace. It all pours out of him as he comes on the bedsheets under him and his mind quiets down.

Finally.

Stars cloud his vision, and a haze of pleasure and quietness takes over his mind and his body. Tingling with the aftershock of ecstasy, Charles falls on the bed. Spent.

Somewhere (as from a distance), he feels Carlos pulling out of him, taking himself in hand and after a handful of seconds, coming on Charles' back. He then slumps on the mattress next to Charles. Also spent.

In silence, only broken by their harsh breaths slowly coming back to normal and coming back from their high, Carlos reaches out to Charles, petting his head and his hair softly. Charles turns his head under Carlos' big hand, nuzzling lazily at his palm like a big satiated cat. If he could, he would probably purr.

Their skin sticks to the sheets with sweat and come. It feels too hot and clammy. And yet it's perfect.

"Charles," Carlos whispers.

Sharl. His name rolls on that tongue like silk. Always. Even though they just fucked and came, Charles leans toward Carlos and kisses him, swallows his own name on Spanish lips. Exquisite.

He wants him, he wants him, he wants him.

They don't do this. Feelings. It's not what their weird teammates-with-benefits relationship is supposed to be like (not that they talk about it much). They just fell into each other. A bad race, a drink too much and it happened. Maybe it was fated from the moment they became teammates, Charles doesn’t know and doesn't really care. What he knows is this: between a passionate kiss that felt like coming home, a quick handjob after a frustrating meeting to release the pressure, and a first blowjob just to try because you don't know it might be good, between all that, Charles fell in love.

But this is all he gets.

It's enough.

It has to be enough.

"Are you feeling better, cariño?"

"Yes."

Charles burrows his head in the crook of Carlos' neck, smelling the scent of the hotel room shower gel and sweat and gasoline, and race track and home. Love. He takes it all in, draping an arm over Carlos' torso and pulling them closer together.

"Thank you, Carlos."

"You're welcome."

Charles closes his eyes as Carlos tucks him in closer, with a powerful arm around his shoulders and a hand in his hair. The fingers draw patterns on his scalp, a soothing massage lulling Charles to sleep.

"I'm tired," he mumbles.

"I know," Carlos whispers and Charles isn't sure he is imagining the kiss Carlos drops on the crown of his head. "You did so good, today. So good."

Charles isn't sure Carlos is talking about the race or their time together. He soaks in the praise anyway, sighs deeply and melts into Carlos' arms.

Later, he will get up to freshen up a bit in the bathroom and come back to clean sheets. Later, he will fall asleep in his own bed thinking about this moment over and over again. Obsessing over the things he wants (a good car, a win, Carlos) and all the things he cannot have (a good car, a win, Carlos). But for now, he'll happily cuddle with his teammate for just a bit longer (just a bit, please please please) and pretend when Carlos tightens his embrace, it's because he feels the same.

It's enough.

It has to be enough.

#charlos #charlos fic #smut #nsft #f1 rpf

[theghostofashton]

wip wednesday

thank you to @carlos-tk @heartstringsduet @sanjuwrites @lemonlyman-dotcom @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @strandnreyes @carlos-in-glasses @paperstorm @bonheur-cafe for the tags <3

The walk is fifteen minutes, and he could take a train, but he always walks. Something about the city in the evenings calls to him, the changing colors of the sky, the string lights starting to turn on in apartment windows, the smells as he walks past restaurants with their doors open. Enough time has passed since the work day ended that the streets aren’t super crowded, so he takes his time, passing by shops and eateries – he finds a bakery to add to the list his dad gave him, he definitely wants to check it out soon – and ends up at Kimmel Center twenty minutes later.   “TK!” “Hey!” He catches Marjan in a hug and squeezes tight, just barely in the door. They keep missing each other, managing to make meetings that the other one isn’t at. This is the first one they’ve been at together since the first one, he’s pretty sure. “How are you?” “Good,” she says. “School’s been busy, but good.” “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” “I know,” she sighs. “My professors are kicking my ass, dude. I’m always in some study group.” TK winces. His own pile of work seems to just be getting larger, too. He ended up in a lot of politics classes this semester because he thought he was going to major in it. But they don’t have to declare until the end of sophomore year, and if this is what he’s in for for the next four, he may be having second thoughts. “You still thinking Psych?” “Yeah, I-” As they walk further into the room, she cuts herself off with and grips his arm tightly, forcing him to stop where he is. “Whoa, what?” He turns his head and realizes she’s disappeared from view, fingers still locked around his bicep. “Marjan, what’s going on?” “Do you see her?” Marjan’s voice is barely above a whisper, coming from directly behind him. “See who?” Her free hand motions toward who she seems to be talking about, and directs his vision over to the opposite side of the room, where a girl in a pink hijab is standing and chatting with a group of people. He recognizes Connor, the club President, and Rahul, his VP. There are a couple of other people he doesn’t know. He hasn’t seen any of them before. He wonders if they’re new. “Who’s that?” “Her name is Aliya,” she replies, still sounding way too quiet. TK looks from the shy, longing look in Marjan’s eyes to the wide grin on Aliya’s face as she laughs at something Connor’s just said, and then he understands. “Oh my god.” “Don’t,” Marjan mutters weakly.

getting to this kinda late so just gonna leave an open tag!!

#exes to lovers au #neha writes #911 lone star

[safetycar-restart]

Hh!carlos works out and send photos to his wife, I don’t make the rules. He loves being drooled over, but only by her. He loves it when she comes up behind him while he’s cooking and starts feeling him up, running her hands along his biceps or his abs and complimenting him and he genuinely goes weak at the knees when she gives him a little kiss on the shoulder and a squeeze on the arm.

Also hh!carlos low-key reminds me of Bucky from the MCU. He’s just soft and sweet and a teddy bear and my headcanon is that hh!carlos is like, low-key RIPPED and could probably bench-press the people who talk badly about his wife and would gladly do so,cause he works out all the time and goes on like a four mile jog almost every morning, so he’s like a teddy bear but if a teddy bear was 200 lbs of pure muscle and Spanish passion.

Speaking of passion; holidays, birthdays, Valentine’s Day, etc., are actually really hard to shop for because whenever you ask Carlos what he wants his response is immediately “mi Vida, you are the greatest gift I could ever receive. With you in my arms, I want for nothing.” And you’re like, “that’s really sweet honey but your birthday is in three days and I can’t get you a gift because you won’t give me any goddamn ideas and I can’t keep getting you new kitchen utensils/appliances or books or I’ll genuinely start feeling bad.” Whereas you come home on Valentine’s Day to your favourite dinner, and roses everywhere, and nice music playing, and chocolates, and your husband with a bow on his head and a pretty plug in his ass with a pink, heart-shaped idk rhinestone or jewel or whatever idk what that decoration thing is called. Decoration isn’t even the right word I’m just genuinely dumb.

Also Carlos and his wife taking dancing lessons before their wedding (and then just for fun) because “mi corazon, our first dance must be special! You are my Queen and I would be remiss if I did not dance with royalty.” Also Ana’s wedding gave very much old money royalty vibes so it’s only natural that Carlos’ would as well, and he would absolutely keep up the Queen thing THE WHOLE TIME. Because you’re his wife, and his Queen! And his love and his heart and he loves you so much and he’s so ready to be yours for the rest of his life and he absolutely makes teh two of you dress as a knight and a queen for Halloween almost every year (or really famous movie couples because you will do a couples costume every year no exceptions, including Gomez and Morticia multiple times - that one is kind of his favourite because everyone is like “oh wow you guys are so in character!” But Carlos is actually just not holding back on showing affection in public, he’s like that all the time at home people just don’t see the full extent of it.

-💍

OH MY GOD YES!! Honestly I think one of the things I’ve missed the most these past few days is not being able to write hh!Carlos specifically. I adore this.

Firstly, of course he sends you selfies! He's always sending you post workout selfies, and he looks so fucking good it's insane. He's all sweaty from his workout, either shirtless or with a shirt that clings to his muscles. He's always smiling in the camera, flexing a little just to show off.

He doesn't show off to anyone else, but to you? He LOVES being drooled over. He loves feeling your eyes on him so much, loves knowing his wife is watching him and could touch him at any moment.

So naturally he must take every opportunity possible to show off to you. So he simply has to take a selfie after every single gym session and send it to you. (By the way, if you're away he's not above sending nudes, especially if you ask for them, he very nearly died when you were away for a week and you told him to send you a video of him jerking off so that you could get off to it, he still thinks about that even years later).

I also think he sends you a lot of random pictures throughout the day actually? You don't have to respond to them, in fact he doesn't expect a response because he knows you're very busy at work. He just likes to send you things! Like how he baked a cake so he must send you a pic or he cleaned the lounge and sends you a pic.

He just loves keeping you informed on what he's doing. (I think Charles thrives on days where you work from home because he can basically in a 24/7 dynamic, getting his instructions from you and serving you and it's amazing).

I love the idea that the only way Carlos stresses you out is that he never tells you what to get him for stuff like Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries etc. Because he has everything he could ever want! And if there's ever anything else he wants, like some new clothes or new workout gear, then he'll just ask because you're his wife and your job is to provide for him. And of course you never consider saying no and getting him the thing for his birthday or Christmas.

And well... there's only so many times you can buy him new kitchen appliances before it gets ridiculous (you can basically count how many years you've been together by how many air fryers you have).

You feel so bad, because you always have to settle for some copout gift but carlos is there decorating the whole house and making a special meal and everything. He puts SO much effort into it, because he LOVES showing you how much he loves and appreciates you. Your birthday is a national holiday to him.

I also think you'll sometimes come home and he's made a big deal out of dinner for no real reason? The table is decorated and he's naked with a special plug in and his play collar, kneeling next to the table to sit with you while you eat and then be played with. There's no reason for this, he just wanted to do something for you.

And the biggest event of all is your anniversary. Because of course it is. It's the you became his wife! The most important day of the year in his opinion.

I like the idea that maybe you two don't go away on your actual anniversary, choosing to have a normal day at home instead and just really making sure to enjoy your time together and cherish each other.

Then, a week or two later, you'll go on a vacation together. Sometimes it's just a weekend away, other times it's a week or two, it just depends on how much time you can be away from work.

Carlos is overjoyed with any amount of time though, simply because it's time with his wife! That's all he could ever need.

And yeah the wedding was very much old money style. Knowing Carlos, he probably announced his plans to quit his job and become a house husband at the wedding? He has this long speech about how much he loves you and how excited he is for the rest your lives together and then just announced his retirement right there.

#house husband!carlos #house husband!au #f!reader #nsfw. #cs #💍

[heartstringsduet]

Morning glory or ivy for the flower prompts!!

Maybe both in one ;)

Thanks a lot and all the flowers to you. Decided to make this in universe. (Fun fact: I did line dance for like half a year in elementary school and then got too lazy and quit)

Flower Language Writing Prompt - I'm always taking prompt requests for this. Might want to make it a Flower Bouquet drabble series so ask away.💐

Morning Glory. Affection. All the touches that lead to the first kiss

“I think we’re gonna be just fine,” TK said to his dad at the bar, not believing it but careful to make it sound like he did. “Thanks for bringing us down here.” But then, anything positive sounded like a lie from him lately.

How should TK have known that within the next hour, he wouldn’t completely be grateful for the move to Austin, but he’d be much closer to believing he’d be on the trajectory to fine? How was he supposed to know a future could be a warmth made human? How was he supposed to know Carlos Reyes existed?

TK’s just lucky that even in his dark hours, he’s not stupid enough to say no when Carlos asks him, “Wanna dance?”

The second of hesitation TK needs to reply isn’t just a tease. Given his track record, he should stay clear of any potential emotional mess. But he feels his lips automatically curl into a smile because, goddamn, this man is hot. Too hot. TK looks away; he has to. He sticks to mineral water; he really shouldn’t seek temptation elsewhere. Then he makes the mistake of looking back at him. His answer can’t be anything but yes now.

Guided by the broad shoulders, he follows him onto the dance floor and his lead for any dance move. TK doesn’t know shit about line dance. The first few steps he still kind of pulls off, an amazing feat given the distraction of those eyes on him. Of that bicep, of those thick thighs. He doesn’t know the man’s name, and he doesn’t mind. He minds not knowing more of his body though. 

It doesn’t take long for TK to learn he really doesn’t care for line dance. Mainly because there’s not enough grinding. Instead, all TK gets is small touches. A brush of an elbow when they shuffle across each other, a hand there and gone when he’s shown the next move, one foot he accidentally kicks and repeats to make that gorgeous man crack up again. Each smile feels like a match running against the striker, but none of these touches are enough to light any of them. They’re all just near things. TK needs tangible. He needs hands on him almost as much as he needs to be kissed.

“Wait how?” TK asks at a more complicated step. It pays off to play dumb, gives him an excuse to grab the man’s hands and put them on his hip. “Teach me?”

He’s wearing thick jeans, but through the thin cotton of his shirt he feels the heat of fingers on his hips. They hesitate, then settle securely. “Like this,” the man says and nudges his hip in time with the beat.

It’s not enough. never nearly enough. They have a drink at the bar, and even here, the electrifying brush against his forearm is infuriating. The touch of his fingers on TK’s knee is just more of a tease. “I’m Carlos, by the way.”

“TK.”

“Nice to meet you, TK. Have you had time to get to know Austin a bit? My whole family is from here so if you need someone to help show you arou-”

“Show me where the bathroom is?”

“Oh, uhm,” Carlos mumbles, smile falling. He points to the back left, right behind the stage, “the men’s room is over there.”

TK chuckles and once again gathers courage to offer, before his own sanity can reel it back in. He leans in closely now, a hand squeezing Carlos’ wrist. “No. Show me?”

TK was a second behind on each step on the dance floor. Carlos is a second behind understanding what TK is offering. Either are eager to follow the other’s lead. TK goes to the restroom first, Carlos follows a minute later. Even the ungodly shade of yellow of the thankfully empty men’s room doesn’t make Carlos look any less like a model.

TK leads the way to one of the cubicles. The door is shut by Carlos gripping his hips and pressing him into it with an expert move, as elegant as his dancing. When Carlos moves, TK moves. When TK kisses Carlos, Carlos kisses him back.

#tarlos #tarlos drabble #tarlos fic #season 1 #flower language writing prompt #tk strand #carlos reyes #michelle writes #flowers in the window

[electricgoldtendercare]

SUMMER NIGHTS PT 2 || C.S. ||

Hi all! Got some good reactions to the first part so I wanted to add to this!! I haven’t had much experience writing smut like this so if you have any comments or anything let me know! Also if any of you ever want to talk about any of the F1 Drivers i’m always down I could legit talk about them constantly soooo. Hope you guys enjoy!

Here’s Pt. 1!!

Warnings: SMUT, minors dni, nsfw, super sweet fluff at the end, I think that’s it :)

———

You feel a burst of energy move through you yet you stayed quiet, teasingly pressing back against him, rolling your hips slowly. You feel him tense, giggling quietly at his reaction. “You think you’re funny, no?” He asks and before you had the chance to reply you felt his hand slip underneath you and wrap around your throat.

The pressure against your throat along with his free hand slipping down to rest on your lower stomach was enough to take your breath away. “Oh..” was all you could manage before his shirt was pulled above your waist and his fingers teased the waistband of your lace panties. “Did you plan this, cariño? Wear these just for me?” He asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear which brought a shiver down your back. Of course you had, though you weren’t going to admit that to him.

You lay your arm over his and try to push his hand where you needed him most. “Ah, ah, ah. Someone is needy tonight.” He chuckles and you felt the frustration building the longer he put off touching you. You already knew what he wanted and with every touch you found it easier to swallow your pride and beg. “P-please..” you breathe out, squeezing his wrist. “Need you to touch me…”

That seemed to do the trick as you felt his fingers slip underneath the band, feeling the rough skin of his fingers against you. The moan coming out of your mouth was cut short by the hand around your throat sliding up to cover your mouth. “Cálmate, quiero que seas una buena princesa.” He murmurs and you nod quickly in response. “Buena niña. Such a good girl for me.”

You smiled at the praise, only adding to the want to do anything he asked of you. In that moment you’re sure he could ask you to shave off your eyebrows and you’d do it no questions asked. You can dissect that later, mind going blank as he entered two fingers inside of you. Nothing had prepared you for how good Carlos was with his hands the first time he used them. It never failed to amaze you each time after that he could have you a writhing mess with just his fingers.

Your climax approached you and your grip on Carlos’ arm tightened. Your nails press into his skin as you press your hips down to meet his fingers. Thanking the heavens that his hand was still covering your mouth as you felt an orgasm come over you and you doubt you could have kept yourself quiet. He coaxed you through your high before the fingers that had just been working you slipped into your mouth.

With sleepy eyes, you licked his fingers clean before rolling over to look up at him. You abandoned your panties completely and kicked them to the floor, letting your hand dance its way down Carlos’ bare chest. You tugged at his boxers, smiling happily when he slid them down for you. You were grateful for the moonlight illuminating your faces so you could see the expression Carlos made when you wrapped your hand around him. The clench of his jaw as you slowly started to pump him only served to keep you going.

Swiping your thumb across the tip, he let out a hiss and let his head fall back. He looked beautiful like this, hair a mess and chest rising and falling steadily. Taking a mental picture to remember the vision before you, you continued your movements. You let your lips attach to his bicep, biting down gently to start leaving a bite behind. You continued this until you felt him near his climax and not wanting to leave the bed, you lean down so your lips wrapped around the head of his cock. It was only a few more pumps until he filled your mouth and you took it happily.

Taking your time to clean the both of you up you plant kisses over his stomach up to his chest and then go his neck. You find his hand and entwine your fingers, laying your head on his chest. Despite the tiredness you were both feeling you didn’t want the night to end yet. Lazy kisses were shared as you changed positions. You press your back to his chest so you were both looking out the open doors. His arm settles around your waist and you feel his hair tickle your cheek as he lays next to you. “Remember that night our little group went to the beach? Like a year or two ago? I have to admit something.” You say quietly “I had the biggest crush on you then. I mean, obviously I have for so long but I think that night is when I knew for sure I did.” You admit, turning up to see his eyebrows pinch together. “Wait what? You didn’t even look at me that whole night!” He teases, bringing a pink tint to your cheeks. “Probably because I felt like I was going to die of embarrassment every time I looked into your eyes.”

“Ay, we could have had this much earlier, princesa. We missed out.” He murmurs, kissing behind your ear. Cuddling closer to him, your legs tangled together to get comfortable. “Tonight was fun.” You whispered to him, feeling his fingers brush through your hair. “I hope you get used to it, I think they like you more than they like me.” He chuckles, shaking his head as he lets his eyes shut.

Carlos’ breathing steadies and you feel his weight slump against you. You let yourself bask in the feeling, the weight against you helping you relax. You thought back to the nights you wished Carlos knew you liked him. If your past self could see you now, wrapped in his arms after an amazing night with his family. You fell asleep more relaxed than the past few nights, letting the sound of the ocean lure you to sleep.

______

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of waves crashing into the beach and Carlos’ small snores in your ear. You stayed in bed much longer than you needed to just to soak in the feeling. Once you finally got up you remembered what happened last night and hoped he had extra boxers here. You dug through his drawers and grabbed a pair, sliding them on before heading to the attached bathroom.

You fixed your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror for a moment before you heard voices downstairs. You checked that Carlos was still asleep before you make your way downstairs. You hadn’t thought twice about the fact that you were wearing only Carlos’ clothes until it was too late. No one paid too much attention luckily and you were far too comfortable to care at that moment.

“Hola! Good morning!” Carlos’ mom greets you and pulls you into a hug. “I’m just making breakfast for everyone now.” She informs you and you immediately off to help. Someone turns on some music and soon enough you’re cutting up some pineapple and singing along to a random spanish song you’re grateful your boyfriend had taught you.

Half an hour later you are singing a duet with Reyes, dancing around the kitchen with some of the grandkids in tow. You hadn’t noticed Carlos coming down the stairs but he didn’t mind. The smile on his face was huge as he watched you nearly blend in with his family. His chest felt full and proud, maybe snapping a few pictures before he announced his presence.

You smiled when you saw him and motioned him over, taking his hands when he was close enough before singing the end of the song to him. You collapsed into a fit of giggles on his chest and his arms slid around your waist, kissing the top of your head. Warmth filled your chest and you leaning up to peck his lips quickly. “Good morning..” You chuckle, pulling him to the breakfast table that was now all set.

Breakfast was even more fun than dinner had been the night before and by the time you and Carlos had to get going you were sad to leave. You were back in your sundress and saying goodbye to all his family. They all made you vow to come back soon and that was an easy promise to make. Finally the two of you are on your way home to get back to normal life. His hand is on your thigh and his fingers are drumming along to the beat of the song, the same song you had been dancing along to with his family.

#f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #formula 1 #carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz junior #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #blurb #carlos sainz blurb #carlos sainz imagine

[semperama]

comfort prompt: pairing of your choice on a tropical vacation that was supposed to be a group trip but everyone else but them canceled

As soon as I read this, I got a Yukierre idea, so I hope this suits! Thank you for the prompt! <3

------

Yuki pretends like he doesn’t see Pierre walking across the deck in his peripheral vision, like he hasn’t been watching the lobby with one eye since Pierre texted him that he was in the cab on the way to the hotel. Even when Pierre flops down onto the chair next to him, too much golden skin on display, Yuki doesn’t look at him. He’s too afraid his relief will show on his face, so clear even his mirrored sunglasses won’t hide it.

“You didn’t get me a drink?” Pierre asks, nodding at the sweating glass on the table beside Yuki.

“Didn’t want it to melt,” Yuki says. His own pina colada is barely frozen anymore as it is, but still he picks it up and hands it to Pierre, who wraps his lips around the straw and sucks half of it down like he knows anything that’s Yuki’s is his. Yuki watches his mouth, his throat, and—Yeah, he should have stuck to staring at the pool, the girls in bikinis lounging against the counter of the swim-up bar nearby.

“Got a text from Alex,” Pierre says, handing the glass back. “He canceled on us too.”

Yuki groans, sets his drink down and runs his hand over his face. The cool condensation feels good but does little to relieve the heat in his cheeks. It’s just him and Pierre then. Yuki should have known this would happen. He is the one who planned this trip, the one who invited everyone. But they all have lives that don’t include him. Lives that have never included him. They’ve all known each other for years, and now Yuki is the odd one out. Alex probably bailed because everyone else did—Charles and Carlos and George.

“We don’t have to stay,” Yuki says. He glances at Pierre, then away. “You didn’t even have to come.”

“I wanted to. I needed a vacation.” Yuki looks over again, watches as Pierre laces his fingers behind his head and leans back. He can see Pierre’s eyes are closed, his eyelashes casting shadows against his cheeks behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Too many races this year, yeah?”

Yuki shrugs, though Pierre isn’t looking. He’d race twice as many. He’d race year round. He’s tired, yes. He hates training and early mornings and scolding from team management, yes. But during the season, he has Pierre. When the season’s over, he doesn’t. It’s simple, really.

Pierre holds out his hand, and Yuki places the drink in it again, watches and Pierre drains the rest. It’s fine. Yuki didn’t really want it anyway. What he wants is some nachos, with cheese sauce. Or one of those burgers he saw someone walk by with a minute ago. He prefers to eat his feelings, not drink them. He watches Pierre bend one knee, his swim trunks momentarily stretched against the curve of his thigh, and he thinks, maybe a double cheeseburger. And nachos on the side.

“Hey.” Yuki is so busy daydreaming, he doesn’t notice Pierre trying to get his attention until chilly fingers settle themselves on his elbow, squeezing and then jostling. “Hey,” Pierre says again, “what are we here for? Let’s get in the water.” Yuki starts to refuse, to say he’s going to find something to eat instead, but then Pierre unfolds himself from the chair, his hand still on Yuki’s arm, and yanks Yuki up after him, grinning. “No whining. Come with me.”

Pierre tugs again, and Yuki overbalances, crashing into him. Pierre’s skin is warm and slick with sunscreen and sweat. His biceps flex as he steadies Yuki, his fingers sure and his grip strong. As soon as Yuki has his balance back, Pierre’s hand comes to the back of his neck and squeezes, his thumb swiping briefly over the skin behind Yuki’s ear, and he smiles softer than Yuki has seen him smile in a long time, maybe ever.

“I’m sorry everyone bailed on us,” he says, “but we can still have a good time.

Us, we, us, we, chimes over and over in Yuki’s head. He nods once, wrinkling up his nose like he chafes at the reassurance, like he doesn’t really, really need it.

“Come on then,” Yuki says at last. He wrenches himself out of Pierre’s grasp and then takes a running leap into the deep end, drawing his knees up to do a cannonball. When he comes up for air, Pierre is standing at the edge of the pool with his hands on his hips and laughing, laughing at him. He’s fucking beautiful.

Yuki reaches out, grabs his ankle, and pulls.

#yukierre #yuki/pierre #f1 #my writing #ficlet

[bellakitse]

# 32 -  “It’s not what it looks like.” - for my soulmate @beka1820, love you babe. 💗

Andrea spies on Carlos and TK at the farmer’s market

Andrea Reyes is in the middle of choosing the best poblano peppers for the chile rellenos she promised Gabriel she would make for dinner when she hears a laugh she would recognize anywhere. Putting down the peppers in her hand, she gives the vendor an apologetic smile and quickly rounds the corner of the stand, following the sound. She stops short, peeking over a bunch of drying peppers, and spots her son, her greatest joy in life, smiling happily at a pretty boy.

TK, not TJ, her brain supplies, and she blushes when she remembers how she got it wrong the first time.

He looks good, especially after the ordeal she knows he went through just a few weeks ago. Her heart had been in her throat when Gabriel told her everything her son and his boyfriend had gone through, and she’d called to check in, wanting nothing more than to show up at his doorstep and check on them but in the end, not wanting to overstep.

She has to admit the curiosity has been eating her alive. After telling her about TK’s rescue, Gabriel had said it was obvious their boy was in love with the young man they had met at the market, and she knew Gabriel didn’t say that lightly. Spying on them now, she can’t help but agree.

She watches as Carlos looks at TK with one of the softest expressions she has ever seen on his face. Her boy has always been tenderhearted, his feelings constantly on the surface for the world to see. What she sees now is pure unadulterated love shining from his eyes as he looks at his boyfriend.

“Here, try this,” she hears TK say as he holds a berry up to Carlos’ mouth. “Sweet, right?” he questions when Carlos accepts his offering.

“You’re sweeter,” Carlos answers, and Andrea finds herself blushing along with TK at that response.

“You’re ridiculous,” TK chuckles, shaking his head at him. He contradicts himself by closing the small space between them, leaning in to give Carlos a kiss on the cheek.

Carlos turns his face just as TK is about to press his lips to his skin, swallowing the small squeak of surprise the young man lets out.

Andrea covers her mouth to muffle the huff of laughter she lets out at the maneuver. It’s something Gabriel has done to her for years, and their son has apparently been taking notes. She feels her heart squeeze with happiness as she watches how TK melts into her son, leaning on him as Carlos takes his time kissing him softly and thoroughly.

It’s more PDA than she expected from her son, but it fills her with joy to see him so open with his love. She has been feeling guilty thinking of the reasons why Carlos lied to them the first time they ran into them. Deep down, she knows the blame falls on her and Gabriel’s shoulders. They’d failed to reassure him they were okay with his sexuality, and as a result, he’s hidden parts of himself from them. Her worry since realizing their mistake has been that maybe Carlos wasn’t just hiding it from them but hiding himself from the world. Seeing him with TK now, seeing how he seems to get lost in their love for each other, eases that concern.

“Are you just going to keep hiding behind the peppers, or are you going to come over and say hi, Mami?”

Andrea startles at the question. She’d gotten so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed when Carlos stopped kissing his boyfriend and spotted her instead. She finds them both watching her, TK with barely contained amusement, and Carlos with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she blurts out, feeling her face go red hot as Carlos raises his other eyebrow at her.

“Really?” he questions, his disbelief evident in his voice. “Because it looks like you were spying on us, badly. You have no stealth, Mami, dad would be embarrassed,” he continues with a smirk, his brown eyes shining with amusement.

TK slaps the back of his hand against Carlos’ stomach. “Don’t be rude to your mother,” he scolds him, and Andrea would believe him more if his green eyes weren’t dancing with laughter too. “Hi, Mrs. Reyes,” he says to her with a sweet boyish smile she doesn’t buy for a second. He’s just as much a mocoso as her son. She tells them as much as she comes out of her hiding place and walks over to them, earning a laugh from Carlos as he explains the word to his boyfriend.

“You’re not the first person to call me a brat,” TK says with that easy smile of his. He truly is beautiful, and Andrea can already tell his beauty is not just superficial.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spy on the two of you,” she says quietly, biting down on her lip nervously before she continues. “I just wanted to – “ she trails off for a moment, trying to think of the right word. “Know you, I guess?”

She watches as Carlos and TK give each other a look, seeming to communicate without words. Finally, TK smiles, giving Carlos a nod.

“We’re going to get lunch at the restaurant at the end of the block,” Carlos starts to tell her with a hopeful look on his face. “It would be nice if you joined us, Mami.”

Andrea looks from her son to his boyfriend, finding the same hopeful look on his welcoming face. It creates a lump of emotion in her throat. She swallows around it as she gives them a quick nod.

“Yes,” she rushes to say, laughing softly at herself. “Yes, I would like that, mijo.”

She feels her eyes sting as her sweet boy lights up, and she can’t help but step forward and wrap her arms around him, letting out a sigh when he hugs her back. Over his shoulder, she finds TK watching them with a smile on his face. As his eyes lock with hers, she hopes he can see the gratitude she feels from knowing her son has him in his life. The way his expression goes even gentler tells her he understands.

Stepping out of the hug, Andrea is surprised when TK steps forward and offers her his arm to take. Charmed, she slips her arm through his, giving his bicep a squeeze of appreciation.

He takes hold of Carlos’ hand on the other side of him, smiling brightly. “Let’s get that lunch then.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #andrea reyes #outsider POV #my writing #100 open sentence prompts

[chubbydino]

fool’s gold 12 days of christmas

DAY 4 || charlos

12 days of christmas in the fool’s gold universe!

read on ao3

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Charles Leclerc infuriated him. Carlos could not figure out how a man could move though life so delicately, yet leave only destruction in his wake. He didn’t care for being on time to things, for one, often strolling in five minutes late for meetings, but no one cared. How could anyone care when Charles showed up with a smile and a soft apology?

Carlos cared. Quite a bit. He cared about everything Charles did, actually.

Carlos liked to let life meet him instead of the other way around. He seldom tried to dictate pace or persuasion. But when Charles stepped into the head office in the palace that first day at Ferrari (twenty minutes late), Carlos thought about punching life square in the face.

Never—not ever—did he think he would be spending Christmas morning with Charles squeezed against him on the couch, his fingers in Charles’s sex-mussed hair, watching snow fall out the windows of the Ferrari palace.

The fireplace roared, glazing them with warmth from across the room.

Charles shifted in his sleep, murmuring soft nothings in the one language Carlos couldn’t get a handle on. Charles claimed his French wasn’t awful, but Carlos knew what a backhanded compliment sounded like.

He tugged the blankets a little higher, fighting off the draft. The Ferrari palace was the oldest of the empires, and no princes ever seemed to care to fix anything in their living space.

“Oh,” Charles said, snaking a hand from beneath the blanket to rub his eyes. “I fell asleep.”

Carlos’s heart melted at the softness of his voice. “You did. You missed Santa.”

Charles wriggled more snugly against him, smile on his lips. “Did I.”

“Yes,” Carlos replied. “He left you a lump of coal.”

“So I was naughty, then.”

Carlos laughed before pressing a kiss to the nape of Charles’s neck. His skin was so warm in the morning for some reason. Very kissable.

The choice to stay at Ferrari for Christmas hadn’t been the easiest decision to make, but Mattia implied that Ferrari princes usually stayed. Carlos knew that was not true—Schumacher always returned to his home, for example—but he understood the implication.

Well, he thought he did, until Charles said he would see him after New Year’s and didn’t ask or assume he was staying in Maranello.

“I think we have to make our own breakfast,” Charles murmured, nuzzling into his bicep. “I told Mattia not to keep anyone for Christmas.”

I didn’t think you were staying, Carlos translated.

Charles didn’t speak about his family very often. Everyone knew about Arthur, the younger Leclerc destined for his own crown. Lorenzo, the eldest, seemed determined to abandon anything to do with the FIA.

Carlos could understand. He would probably feel the same in Lorenzo’s position.

“I can make breakfast,” Carlos offered, squeezing Charles’s elbow under the blanket. “What do you want?”

“I was planning on toast, so whatever you make would be great,” Charles said, voice still thick with sleep.

Carlos could already smell the cooking bacon, the sweet scent of maple syrup caramelizing on it. A very American breakfast, but he hadn’t been able to rid his mouth of the taste of Texas barbeque since they left COTA.  

“It will be good,” Carlos said.

“I’m sure,” Charles replied. “But not yet. I think there’s Christmas films—oh. Wow, I’m blind.”

He laughed low and it made Carlos dizzy to feel the sound against his chest.

The TV was already on, muted, playing a Christmas day movie marathon.

Charles said a week ago that he liked to keep the TV on when he spent time alone. Carlos didn’t like to think about him in the palace by himself with only Christmas movies for company.

He reached over to the coffee table, thankful for the excuse to lean against Charles’s shoulders to grab the remote. His very much bare shoulders.

Carlos lingered as he pretended to search for the mute button, but didn’t wait too long before sound blared to life from the TV above the fireplace.

Snow continued to fall outside, enveloping them in a wonderful world of white. Carlos couldn’t wait to bundle up and go walking in it. He loved winter—for an hour or so at a time.

“Is your family okay with you staying here?” Charles asked after a few minutes of Elf. Not exactly arthouse cinema, but Carlos enjoyed fun movies, though the English was a bit fast for him to understand at some points.

“I plan to call them today,” Carlos said. “I doubt they will even answer. My mother will be running around, preparing for the rest of the family to visit, my dad will be attempting to cook without me.”

Charles shifted under the covers until they were facing each other, his jaw half-hidden under the blanket, his eyes curious and wary. Always wary, Carlos found.

“You still have time to catch a flight. I’m fine here, Carlos.”

Carlos smiled. “I’m fine here too. I made my choice. My choice is you.”

More wariness. For a man so confident in a car, Carlos could always find uncertainty in those eyes.

What he wouldn’t give for a moment in that pretty head.

Charles’s lips twitched up in the slightest smile. “Maybe next year we can both go to Spain.”

Carlos’s mouth fell open. He couldn’t help it—he thought Charles never wanted to set foot in his family home again. Carlos thought about that weekend so often that he was certain Charles liked to keep it from his mind completely. Theyusually worked in opposites when it came to matters of the heart.

“I would like that very much,” Carlos said, cheeks burning hot. “Very much.”

Charles smirked at him before rolling back around to face the TV.

A cold hand wrapped around his own a moment later, weaving their fingers together.

Charles looked up at him out of the corner of his eye. “Me too.”

#charlos #carlos/charles #f1 rpf #FG 12 days #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction