Midnights (3am Edition) - Masterlist

Give it some, give it some, give it some time, But I think we’re supposed to be (Or; the five times Charles and Buttons wage war, and the one time they don’t.)

(Charles x Reader. 10k. 18+ please, for a little bit of smut)

Preface.

Buttons was yours long before Charles ever was.

Buttons found you, cuddled up to you when he was nothing but a kitten in a shelter, unmoored and homeless, tiny and terrified. You’d gone to the shelter with your brother and his girlfriend, tagged along because they were in the process of adopting a dog and you wanted to meet her. While they signed papers and settled the adoption you wandered into the cat kennel, aimless and bored. But Buttons found you almost immediately, stared up at you with his dark green eyes and purred into your chest and made it impossible for you to walk away without giving the shelter your phone number.

You came back three days later, and Buttons came home with you.

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Hard Carry Masterlist

Summary: Y/n really doesn't have time for love. Debuting in Formula One at the young age of 17 before completely dominating the sport ever since, romance, had always been something that's never been on her top priority list. At least, that is, until a boy with green eyes and sweet smile appeared in her life.

or

in which a formula one legend herself caught some feelings towards Ferrari's newly crowned prince.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Table of contents

00. she's a star, she's the moment, she's y/n

01. it's 2018, baby!

02. down under

03.

04.

05.

06.

07.

smau!

00.

Hello!! May I request a charles leclerc fluff drable where he's like always staring at y/n (in a non-creepy way hehe) and like just has a big crush on her even when they're dating already type of thing? or something? tysm!

something – cl16

Looking can be so similar to loving—just ask Charles.

auds here... title from this. also i feel it is the one of the best ‘so enamored ur moving in slow mo’ songs...

A blue dress. Deep blue, satin, wrapped around your figure like you’re a dream that’s his.

There are moments where Charles’ world slows when he sees you, and this is one of them, a year into dating. Suddenly he feels like he’s a teen seeing his first racing car, or a kid seeing Star Wars all over again. Nothing else matters but this—but you, in this deep blue dress, your arms swinging around as you dance to the upbeat music that plays at this dinner party.

Someone’s clutched your hand and twirled you around, so quick your hair falls over your face. He wants to pick you up, let his hands wring around your waist and hug you close, close, closer. He wants to wipe the hair from your face, press a kiss to your cheek, then your nose, then your lips, taste the martini there, smell the sea and the two spritzes of perfume on your jaw.

You move in slow motion, every ripple of your dress, every tendril of hair over your eyelashes. You’re laughing, tipsy, when your friend hugs you close, moving the both of you into a shitty waltz. Jesus, you’re so pretty. 

“Charles!” You’re saying. He blinks, and your eyes are meeting his, smiling with the rest of your face. The French summer has tinged your cheeks with the heat, your left shoulder peeling with a sunburn. Even now in the evening, when it hides, it’s managed to follow you still, blinding and beautiful. An arm stretches out, a hand, then a finger. Come on, you’re saying, dance with me!

It’s your favorite song that’s playing, some disco tune that has you hopping excitedly, hips swaying in the kind of way he can’t ever get his eyes off of. He knows this because it’s one of the ones at the top of his Spotify statistics, what with how often you’re using his phone to launch impromptu dance parties while cooking or cleaning or driving. 

So he does, gets up from where he’s been sitting while everyone else dances. He’d been undoing his tie, then two buttons on his polo, nursing Scotch (between you both, you like to say, he’s the boring drinker and you’re the fun one.) You shimmy your shoulders when his hand locks with yours, a smile stretching onto your face when he pulls you close and wraps the same arm around your waist. The song hasn’t yet reached its crescendo, so you sway softly, smiling like idiots.

“Hi, beautiful,” he says, eyes lidded from the alcohol and the feeling of being this near you.

“Hey there, handsome. Here often?”

“Just passing by, actually.” He pauses. “I saw a beautiful girl from the entrance and couldn’t help myself.”

You laugh, letting him twirl you as the chorus begins, both of you moving to the ever-familiar beat of this song and using the same moves you use at home, when it’s just the two of you. That’s exactly how it feels, though: like it’s just you both, dancing and laughing. When he finally moves your hair aside and presses a kiss to your lips, the world slows all over again. 

—

His world whirs into slow motion when Pascale is laughing at one of your jokes.

“I’m funnier than your son,” you say when she’s wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. Across the brunch table, finger tapping against the white linen tablecloth, Charles’ eyes are stuck on you. Nobody notices his stare of adoration, because it’s so usual, so ordinary, for him to be looking at you so intently, and with so much love.

You’re wearing a white dress that you’d been wiping your palms over nervously in the car, asking him to repeat a crash course of his family over and over until it was the only thing your mind was capable of retaining. Yet for all your nerves, you’d blended in exceptionally well with everyone at the table, over salmon and pasta and tea and biscuits.

Pascale had ushered you in with the urgency of every mother, a hand around your shoulder, pointing out members of the family, fixtures on the wall. There’s a story behind everything. Behind stains, scratches, pictures, peeled-off labels. You’d let her tell you everything. 

A smile makes its way onto your face when you see Pascale fail to stop laughing over your joke, her hand clenching yours. Your eyes meet his, and he can see the excitement in them—the joy of having this happen. He hopes you can read him equally well, hopes you can see how excited he is, too, for this to be happening, for you to be so loved by the people that matter most to him.

A hand comes up to tuck hair behind your ear, lips pursing to prevent your smile from widening. No, he wants to say, I want to see you smile. Everything. Show me everything. You’re beautiful.

“You really are,” says Pascale, and the two of you turn to smile softly at him. This is love, he thinks, and he wishes time never quickens ever again.

—

The book this week is Love in the time of Cholera. You try to read one book every two weeks, but lately you’ve been forgetting—last night you’d firmly resolved to start again, and you’re hooked on the words already.

The thin blanket of your bed is the only thing shielding you from the cold, your bare back turned to him as you continue to read the chapter. Charles sees you and wishes he was half as good as you. You’re stupid, you’d said with genuine concern when he told you this once. Have you even seen yourself? And you praised him, listed every last amazing thing about him.

Still, he wasn’t convinced. There may have been awards and videos and celebrations for him, but he wishes he was good enough for you sometimes. Your intelligence, your wit, your beauty. Your ability to get up and read a book in the morning. Your capacity to love. He can’t believe you’re his, all his, this beautiful girl is truly all his.

His world slows again, time ticking into slow motion as he watches you passively. Every few moments there’s the sound of the page turning, and your slow breathing makes up the rest. He wants to paint a picture on your back, make you his canvas, so he can think of another way to convey his immense, all-encompassing love for you.

Genuinely, he thinks he’d be incomplete without you. He conveys this in the way he stares, the way he admires, like you’re a sculpture in the Louvre and he’s at the front of the line. But he’s the only one in line, and he’ll be damned if somebody shows up behind him. 

You pause; the noise of the blanket rustling and your book shutting snaps Charles back to reality. Without turning, your voice penetrates the silence. “What are you doing?” With sleep and unuse, your voice is raspy.

“Looking at you.” He answers slowly.

Your eyes meet his, eyebrow raising as you turn slightly. “Why?”

“Just…” he pauses. It’s impossible to articulate why. So he says instead, “Just looking.”

—

When a race is won, reaches its climax and its end all at once, it’s a noisy affair.

Tonight, there are fireworks, music, the pulse of excitement in the crowd that celebrates Leclerc’s P1. Everything moves fast, fast, fast—interviews, cheers, arms wrapped around him, worshipping him, fans screaming. Then it’s the media pen, questions over and over, then he’s packing up, tallying points, having debriefs.

He tugs off his helmet. Everything is fast, even in his moment of winning. Fast and quick and heavy. But he seeks something, something to make time slow—

And finds her, wearing a too-big Ferrari shirt (courtesy of Joris getting the sizing all wrong) in the crowd by the pit lane, beautiful as ever. You’re waving, your enthusiasm in your whoops of encouragement. You blow a kiss, and time is slow again. He watches you grip the front of the shirt and present it proudly, the big 1-6 embedded on it. He’s yours, yes, he is.

I love you, you mouth slowly. He nods back—it’s more than enough. Then you’re making a shoo motion with your hand, decorated with bracelets that match his. Go, you’re saying, go and be the winner, be the best driver. Later, you’ll be mine, just mine, just Charles.

He’s whisked away to do an interview, but his eyes are stuck on yours, excited and proud. You never usually like watching races, out of fear, but Charles insists you do, presses a kiss to your forehead and promises everything will be okay. You end up digressing almost every time.

“I’d imagine this win is the highlight of the week,” says the journalist smugly, then extends the mic to Charles’ lips.

He shakes his head a little. “Just one of them,” he responds, smiling. 

—

A necklace with an initial on it, a thin silver ring across your middle finger, a matching bracelet on your wrist.

“Who is that?” Charles asks dazedly, shoulder bumping Carlos’. An explanation is fed into his ear, someone who knows someone knows her and invited her to attend this dinner. It’s getting late in London, and he’d been prepared to get to his car and go to his hotel, but suddenly he’s distracted, stopped in his tracks.

It almost feels weird to have time slow so much like this.

Even when he’s in a racing car, or winning, or when a car careens off track and time seems to hang in the balance—nothing has made him feel this way before. He watches you laugh, play with the neckline of your black top and listens to your ring clink against your glass of champagne.

Your hair is tied into a loose bun, framing your face, your lips making animated conversation with someobody else. He wants to hear your voice, make you smile, see how you react to his own jokes. Time crawls when he thinks of you, moves like a turtle walking through honey.

So later, when he’s almost abandoned the idea of introducing himself, he finds you clicking your car keys on the sidewalk. He clicks his, watches the lights of his Ferrari blink open, and you turn to him, smiling coyly.

You open your mouth, and say: “So you’re the cute dickhead who can’t park?”

Again, time moves in slow motion, your bun coming undone as you turn, hair falling over your back, arms crossing over your torso. Your high heels click softly against the pavement as you listen to him stutter out an introduction, an apology for the shit parking. This is it, he thinks, the start of something absolutely beautiful.

If he’s looked at you now, he thinks, he can’t ever look away. He hopes he doesn’t ever have to.

if you’re like me and you only watch f1 for free, here are some free sites you can watch it live at:

sportshub.stream - this is my personal favorite

totalsportek.pro

sportsurge.club

thehomesport.net

weakstream.org

there are also free apps you can watch it in:

Live player

strym tv - you need a code to watch in this app so you just press the + sign on the upper left corner, choose “Import playlist from URL” and paste this url http: //movitv. pro just remove the spaces

all of these have ads and if you have access to VPN, you might want to use it but i’ve tried all these links and app last season and hadn’t gotten a virus.

Masterlist:

Requests closed!

Upcoming Works

Ⓢ : smut | Ⓕ : fluff | Ⓐ : angst

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The Winner Takes It All Masterlist

Pairings: Art Donaldson x black!reader, Patrick Zweig x black!reader, Tashi Duncan x black!reader

Summary: For Gianna Langdon, being overlooked came as naturally as swinging a tennis racket. It’s only to be expected living in the shadow of Tashi Duncan, Gianna’s best friend. That is until the 2006 US Open Juniors where her world collides with Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson and suddenly Gianna found herself in a position she never thought possible, sharing the spotlight with Tashi. What follows next, no one could’ve predicted. Four lives upturned and forever intertwined in a viscous cycle of betrayal, jealousy, hatred, and tragedy spanning a decade.

Part I: Sugar & Spice

Part II: Maneaters

I could get over anything as long as I have something new to be obsessed with

karma | lh44

"karma is the guy on the screen coming straight home to me"

summary: seeing her toxic ex was never fun, but maybe it was less fun for him when he realized she was currently dating the GP winner on the screen, who happened to be his favourite driver

warning: overall fluff between the main characters, platonic!reader x valtteri bottas, mentions of a toxic ex-boyfriend, mentions of ex-boyfriend cheating, slut-shaming, swearing, alcohol consumption, reader is a little toxic to her ex (but he deserves it lol)

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

word count: 3.6k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

it has been a really hard week for me with work, but I really hope you enjoy this surprise either way!

masterlist

You're talking shit for the hell of it

Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant

You're terrified to look down

'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare

Of everyone you burned just to get there

It's coming back around

Paddock life was equally as exciting and terrifying for Y/N.

Even after becoming a usual guest during race weekends during the last few months, the young woman couldn’t help but feel a little nervousness in her stomach every time she walked on the circuit, still not used to all the attention and eyes on her.

Since the first time Lewis decided to enter the paddock holding hands with a mystery woman, everything in her life had turned chaotic to say the least. Every single person in there was shaken to the core, especially because he wasn’t exactly known to be so public with his dating life through the last years of his career. So naturally, curiosity spread through the air like a disease.

Not that it mattered to Y/N, all of that amounted to nothing when she remembered the real reason for her presence there: supporting her amazingly talented boyfriend. Lewis had been her best friend, her lover, and her biggest supporter since the day they met. She tried as much as she could to be the same for him, knowing how much her being there meant to him.

And to be completely honest, she had a hunch on how much it pushed him to do better. Even if subconsciously, the driver always had his best performances in his car when he knew he had his girlfriend to impress, no matter how many times she told him he was the best regardless of his race results.

Despite all of that, of course developing a handful of friendships with some of the drivers, as well as their partners, gave her a significant sense of comfort there, knowing she had someone who she could rely on if needed. And the perfect example of that was the quick and playful bond she formed with her favourite Finnish driver, while he was still her boyfriend’s teammate at Mercedes.

“Well, well, well. Look at that. Miss Y/N L/N herself, in the flesh!” Valtteri said as he approached her, with his typical sweet grin on his face. The woman felt her body instantly relax at the sight of her good friend, the stress now forgotten on the back of her head.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my second favourite driver on the grid.” She laughed, giving him a swift side hug, as they proceeded their walks.

“Only second?” The blonde driver asked, hand on his chest. “Lewis is not even here, Y/N. You don’t have to lie, you know.”

Their conversation continued for a few minutes, as they now walked side by side, arms linked in a friendly manner. Him asking her how her Sunday was going, and her asking him about his unlucky DNF during the race that ended just minutes before.

As they reached the Alfa Romeo’s motorhome, in true big brother and little sister fashion, Valtteri kissed her on her cheek and messed her hair up a little, winning a shove from the girl as she tried to fix herself.

“Wow. You’re a groupie now? Never knew you could stoop so low.”

And I keep my side of the street clean

You wouldn't know what I mean

Ugh, not that irritating voice. 

Not him. Not in here. Not now.

She could feel her eyes betray her, as they couldn’t hide her shock and disgust when they landed on the big figure behind her. Of all people she could come across on the paddock, her lying cheating ex-boyfriend would be the one. Just my luck, she thought to herself.

“Oh fuck off, Jason.” She spat out, angry. After all, why would she even give that piece of trash the time of day? She tried to turn around and make her way back to the podium that was about to start any minute now but was stopped by a hand that tugged at her arm.

Unable to flee, Y/N was forced again to look into the face of the man she hoped never to see again. But you know what, she kept her calm. She had learned a lot from all those years and all those tears. 

Especially that what goes around always comes around. 

"So you're whoring around now for paddock passes?" He laughed in her face, for the thousandth time in his life. Jason had always made a point of trying to bring down the girl's self-esteem, so Y/N wasn't expecting anything different from him this time around.

As she prepared to answer him back, already tired and furious by the whole situation, the hairs on her neck stood up as she heard a recognizable click. Y/N's head followed the sound until she spotted the (unfortunately) familiar figure of a photographer, automatically panicking. She knew this man was known for having no boundaries and no respect for people's privacy. She could already imagine the descriptions given to these photographs out of context.

"AFFAIR? Lewis Hamilton's girlfriend seen in an altercation with a mystery man"

"Y/N L/N caught reuniting with ex while missing the 7-time World Champion's podium"

Can this get any worse, she thought.

"He must be confusing you with someone actually relevant. Why the hell would anyone want pictures of you?" Jason burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Damn Y/N, you must have been working well around here if you've reached that level of fame. How many drivers did you sleep with?"

It definitely can, she shook her head to herself.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

Karma's gonna track you down, karma's gonna track you down, karma's gonna track you down, the young woman repeated in her head like a prayer, trying to maintain her posture.

Although all she wanted was to ruin that clown's face right then and there, she knew that not only her image but her boyfriend's reputation were dependent on how she was going to handle this confrontation.

"This was a lot of fun and all, and I'm glad you enjoyed yourself with all the shit that comes out of your mouth, but I really have to go." She said so that only he could hear, not caring if she was being rude, and with her eyes studying what the photographer was doing from time to time. "My boyfriend is waiting for me and I have nothing to tell you. Goodbye, have a nice trip to hell."

"Boyfriend? Sure. Where is he then?" He continued to mock her, pretending to look around in search of someone. "I've heard better lies. But tell me then, where is that "boyfriend" of yours." He spoke, quoting on air when the word "boyfriend" was mentioned.

Oh.

You're going to wish you never asked that.

Spiderboy, king of thieves

Weave your little webs of opacity

My pennies made your crown

Trick me once, trick me twice

Don't you know that cash ain't the only price?

It's coming back around

"Y/N, I know we came on this vacation to unwind a bit, but you have to take it easy on alcohol." Her best friend said, trying to take the glass from her hand.

"Oh don't be a jerk, I deserve at least a good drink after all." She pulled the glass back to her mouth, spilling part of her expensive mojito on the floor.

"Yes, one, maybe even two. Not four in the space of two hours." Emma criticized. "I know you're having a hard time, I really do. But you can't go on like this. It's not healthy."

The young woman knew it was not healthy behaviour. But after discovering her boyfriend of 2 years, fooling around in their bed, in their apartment, with his co-worker, she felt she deserved a good time. 

Apparently, it wasn't enough to endure that awful relationship in silence: the dishonesty, the jealousy, the lack of support, the control over her life, and the constant disrespect. Having to come face to face with the man she shared her life with all that time with another woman? Karma tricked her once or twice, but not at this level. 

"We're in fucking Monaco, babe." She walked around the middle of the casino, eventually losing her friend, arms stretched. "Let's have some fucking fun-" 

Before she could finish her sentence, her back hit someone behind her. Drinks flew and her dress was now all soaked, as was the man's blue suit. Y/N heard some curse words coming out of the guy's mouth, along with an irresistible British accent.

Although the situation was not the most appropriate, she couldn't help but feel heat spread through her body at the sound of that attractive voice. 

She turned, prepared to flirt with the stranger until she recognized him as soon as she saw his face directly. 

"You of all people." She said, tipsy enough to no longer have a filter.

"Me?" 

And I keep my side of the street clean

You wouldn't know what I mean

"Yeah, you!" She pointed to him, touching his chest. 

The man couldn't be more confused. Had they met before? Was she a fan of a rival team to Mercedes? Did he win a championship against the girl's favourite driver? 

His life was Formula 1. He devoted all his time, all his energy, all his life to the sport. Therefore, the only justifications that came to mind at that moment were those.

"Do I know you?" His nose and forehead scrunched up in a puzzled expression.

"You don't know me." Y/N declared, crossing her arms in front of her figure. "But I know damn well who you are, Lewis Hamilton."

The way she said his name with disdain made the brit uncomfortable. So she knew who he is after all. Leaving Lewis speechless was something people rarely managed to do and at that moment he didn't know if it was motivated by the young woman's boldness or her beauty.

God, she was amazing. Okay, maybe she wasn't necessarily the biggest fan of him. Or at all really. But he couldn't help but admire her from head to toe. 

Her eyes revealed her state, showing that the girl was definitely a bit tipsy, but the way they sparkled, their intense colour, was the detail that impressed him the most. How her long, curly hair perfectly adorned the front of her short black dress. The way her crossed arms highlighted her cleavage-

"Hey!" She caught his attention, waving a hand in front of her own face. "Eyes are up here, buddy! Don't think that because you're a winner or a champion or whatever your fans call you that you can look wherever you want and no one will tell you anything!" 

Not a Formula 1 fan but she knew who he was. Out of the ordinary but noted.

"Ugh, you men are all the same!" She complained aloud. "No wonder that loser Jason is your biggest supporter."

"Sorry miss, but now you've lost me." He confessed, even more lost than before. "Who the fuck is Jason?" He chuckled.

"An absolute cheating, lying and disgusting clown, that's what he is." She replied as she sat down on a red sofa that was in the middle of the golden hall of the casino.

Interested in the matter (and above all, in the woman), Lewis took the seat beside her. Although he was used to the attention, the crowd of people that filled the room allowed them some privacy. No one was paying attention to him, everyone was focused on their own activities and groups, but his mind was totally on her.

"That sounds like a shitty ex-boyfriend. Especially the part where he's my biggest fan, not the cheating." Lewis told her, trying to cheer her up.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n genuinely laughed. Not from the alcohol, not forcefully, but genuinely from the way his words warmed her broken heart.

They were silent for a few moments until the driver interrupted. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She questioned, looking at him.

"I don't know. For your break up. For reminding you of him when he clearly hurt you." Hamilton admitted, almost ashamed.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It has nothing to do with you. I'm sorry for being a bitch to you when you are just an innocent person in the story." The woman, now beginning to sober up, spoke sincerely. "You know what, for an all-important celebrity, you're kind of a cool guy."

He laughed softly. "Thanks, I guess?"

Almost as if reading each other's thoughts, the two looked at each other and, although they didn't say it out loud, they both felt something they hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe even never.

"We should go out one of these days." He proposed.

"What?!" Y/N couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"You know, because of your ex. Karma has a way of serving sweet justice." He shrugged, teasing her. "Not because of me, it has nothing to do with my personal interest at all."

She immediately sensed the joking tone in his speech and couldn't help but blush a little. After all, Lewis fucking Hamilton was asking her out on a date.

"Maybe we should, champ." The two smiled.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

The very next day they had a dinner date set at a restaurant of his choice.

Emma had laughed in her face when Y/N told her what had happened at the casino bar during the time they'd lost each other.

The truth is it felt like a fabrication, a total lie. Y/N couldn't judge her best friend for not believing, because even she still found herself pinching her hand, expecting to wake up in her bed from a dream at any moment.

Emma helped her prepare for their date, glad to see her happy again. She didn't care who the suitor was, as long as the smile on her friend's face remained from ear to ear.

It's safe to say that her jaw dropped to the floor when she opened the door to their shared hotel room and effectively saw Lewis Hamilton.

"Is Y/N here?" He asked as he stood there, in all his magnificence, in a simple white shirt, open enough to show his dark skin and the tattoos that decorated it.

"Emma, close your mouth." Y/N joked, holding the other girl's jaw. "Hey, champ."

God, here they were again. The butterflies in their stomachs.

The date was everything the young woman expected and desired. From the way Lewis opened the door to his black Mercedes for him, to the way he went out of his way to book an entire restaurant to allow them to have more privacy.

The conversation flowed naturally, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. What started as a misunderstanding over her attempt to forget a heartbreak ended up resulting in one of the best nights of her life.

As the night began to draw to a close, the girl couldn't help but think that this would be it. She would never see the man again. He would probably forget about her in a matter of days. And she found herself disappointed with that idea.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He questioned, as his hand intertwined gently with hers. He pulled her a little to stop her on her way back to the car, bringing the two of them closer together.

"I just don't want this night to end." The words were out of her mouth before she thought about what she was saying.

"This doesn't have to stop here, baby." She released a shaky breath when she first heard the affectionate nickname, but a slow smile appeared on her face.

Ask me what I learned from all those years

Ask me what I earned from all those tears

Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here

After that magical night, he took her back to her hotel room and said goodbye with a loving kiss on her cheek and a caress along her cheek, keeping eye contact between them whenever possible as they said "see you soon".

Not goodbye but see you soon.

And it was said and done.

Not even two weeks had gone by before the driver was on a plane on his way to her, ready to spend his race-free week with his girl.

It became usual for them: him travelling to her, her travelling to him. They knew how quickly they were evolving, especially given the conditions in which they met, but when things feel right, why hold back? Out of fear of the consequences? Because of his fame?

He felt that he had finally found the balance he so desperately needed, without even knowing it. He found himself with his head on her and not his career all the time. She gave him peace, she gave him stability, she gave him everything he wanted and more.

On the other hand, she found in him the adrenaline, the enthusiasm, the thrill. Now she woke up smiling and went to sleep smiling. Something in her was reborn, perhaps her childlike spirit: the desire to know more, and the ambition to have and be more.

Together they were just that: more.

"So?" Jason interrupted his ex's thoughts. "I'm still waiting to hear from that little boyfriend of yours."

'Cause karma is the thunder

Rattling your ground

Karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter

Karma's gonna track you down

Step by step, from town to town

Sweet like justice, karma is a queen

Karma takes all my friends to the summit

Would it be toxic of her to rub her new relationship in her ex-boyfriend's face? Perhaps.

But, I mean, sometimes you and karma just vibe like that.

"Well... You see, this is a super funny story!" The girl smiled a little Machiavellian. "Actually, I have to thank you, for everything."

"To me?" He replied, totally confused by her change in tone.

"Yes, you!" She faked a grateful smile. "If you hadn't ruined everything between us, I'd probably still be stuck in that apartment I've always hated, and worst of all, with you!"

"What the f-"

"But no, since you don't have the ability to keep your dick in your pants, I ended up in a casino in the middle of Monaco and I met the best person in the world. Someone who treats me like I deserve, supports me like I deserve, LOVES me like I deserve!"

"You're just lying in an attempt to deflect the subject." Jason argued back. "So much bullshit talk and still no sign of your new boy toy after all."

"You can watch him on the big screen if you want!" She pointed to the giant television behind her, where Lewis was getting out of his silver car, ready to collect his prize. "However, I would prefer to see my man up close if you let me. Or rather, I don't owe you anything so I don't care about what you have to say. So enjoy the show."

Jason just stood there, motionless and disbelieving. Is she fucking kidding me? Lewis Hamilton?!

Karma is the guy on the screen

Coming straight home to me

Y/N ran across the paddock towards the podium as if her life depended on it. But when she arrived at the celebration, the trophies were already handed out and the champagne was already open.

Lewis smiled even more as soon as he set his eyes on his girl, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by her or everyone around them.

His speed in the race had nothing on the speed with which he descended the stairs from the top of the winner's spot to the audience, his path perfectly aimed at her.

"Hey, where were you?" He asked, wrapping her around the waist in his arms, kissing her immediately, without giving her time to respond.

Reminded of how bad her past had been and, above all, how happy she was by his side now, she returned the kiss with an intensity that was unusual for her. The cameras, the people, they were nothing next to him.

"Wow, baby." He expressed, giggling shocked by her public display of affection. "I missed your face when I got out of the car."

"Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to be here but you'll never guess who I saw." She shook her head, laughing as they started to make their way back to the Mercedes' motorhome.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

They approached their destination, still wrapped around each other, eyes on each other, lips on each other.

Lewis, still completely in the dark about the altercation that had taken place minutes before, saw a mysterious figure standing there staring intensely at the two of them.

"Hey, man." He initiated a conversation, as he usually did with all the more timid fans. "Do you want an autograph?" He asked sincerely.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, eyes still not straying away from her champion.

Karma really is a relaxing thought.

Karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Uh-huh, mm

Karma's a relaxing thought

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Just the three of us [C.L. & P.G.]

Author: i saw a gif and my coochie said write it now

Summary: in which they take care of her...

Warnings: smut, NSFW content, +18, threesome, unprotected sex

“Look at this, darling... You’re so wet, doesn’t he fuck you properly?” You instinctively closed your legs when Pierre brushed his ringed index through your soaking wet folds. Charles sat in front of you, legs spread as his cock felt trapped in those tight pants. Your ass came to grind against the french man crotch, as if he wasn’t hard enough for you. Charles chuckled at his words, both annoyed and amused by his statement. He knew damn well that you were than satisfied with his sexual performance and he didn’t need you to tell him that, he had seen it with his eyes. Pierre lowly snickered as he pushed them apart again, Charles’ eyes immediately falling in between your legs. He fixed his posture, feeling his cock twitching in his pants at the sight of your wide open legs.

“No... No he doesn’t...” you teased him from on top of his best friend. Charles’ eyes shot up to your face, a frown spread across his beautiful facial features as he felt his ego getting hit. Both you and Pierre knew you were just messing with him. There was no one that satisfied you as much as Charles when it came to the bedroom business and he knew that. You just loved teasing him. Pierre’s face turned into a fake surprised and amused one as his thumb swiftly started to play with your clit. Your eyes falling on the ringed finger as you attempted not to move your hips to meet his moves. Charles snorted annoyed, looking briefly away and moving around in his chair. He leaned against his hand, biting his nails anxiously. It was a bad habit he had picked on when he was younger and continued to have especially when he was angry or anxious. Pierre ghosted his lips over your naked neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses.

“Is that so? So sorry, sweetheart... But I think he has some potential in him, doesn’t he? Maybe he just needs a lesson on how to make you feel good, uh?” He went along with the joke. His thumb applying even more pressure on your sensitive bud as you panted out of breath, slowly losing control over your body. You nodded, not able to speak a coherent phrase which was embarrassing since he had just started touching you. Charles widened his eyes in disbelief as you scoffed him. You knew whenever he was underestimated he always gave his best. When he had agreed to do this with you and his best friend he didn’t know you would have ganged up on him. He was the jealous type but he could never be jealous of his best friend, until that moment, when you were questioning his abilities.

“Yes, yes he needs that, Pierre...” you muttered out a loud moan erupting from your lips when he delivered a soft slap on your throbbing clit. You were slowly losing any control over your words and actions. The french man giggled and started to tease your entrance with two of his fingers, feeling how wet you had already become. Charles swiped his tongue across his bottom because how offended he could feel in that moment, nothing got him going more than you trying to chase your release. As you tried to speak again those fingers were shoved inside of you, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hips jolted forward and his other arm moved to wrap around your waist to pull you down. As his hand began to move, his fingers nicely filling you up, you couldn’t help but wonder how good it would have felt to have him buried inside of you and just the thought of it had you clench and squeeze around his digitals. A grunt leaving Pierre’s lips right after that.

“With you clenching like that, mon amour, I wouldn’t last long either...” he commented with a smirk. You gripped his arm, digging your nails into his bicep covered by a stupidly hot white shirt whose three first buttons he had left open to show off his gold necklace. You had been staring at his partially naked body for the rest of the night, improper thoughts filling your mind. And Pierre knew that. Only a fool wouldn’t have taken notice of your behavior. Always catching you staring, prolonged eye contact, not so chaste touches. He could feel how bad you wanted him. And Charles could as well. But again, he was more than okay with sharing you for a night. Pierre on the other side couldn’t say he had more self control than you. As soon as he spotted you next to Charles he had troubles with keeping his eyes off you. He simply hoped his best friend wouldn’t have noticed his staring. You were all over his mind all evening, especially when Charles left to go to the bathroom and you two danced together. He wanted take you right there on the dance floor...

“Fuck-... Feels so good, Pierre... Don’t stop, please.” You begging had to be one of his favorite things he had ever heard in his life. Meanwhile Charles had to sit back and stare at his girlfriend being pleased by another man and although his ego had ben hurt, he was feeling rather amused by the sight. You were so lost in the moment, you looked ravishing. He could see your juices getting all over Pierre’s hand as he easily slipped his fingers inside of you. The way your walls tightened around his digitals left little to nothing to the imagination and Charles’ mind struggled to form a coherent thought. The arm he had wrapped around your waist moved slightly as he trapped your right nipple between his fingers. A high pitched moan rolled off your tongue due to his movement.

“Can you take more for me, uh? One more, baby... I know you can.” Pierre whispered into your ear as he pushed a third finger in. Your grip tightened on his bicep and your head rolled back, resting on his shoulder. The feeling of him taking such good care of you had you edging closer to your release, faster than you thought you would. Pierre couldn’t hep but enjoy the view, he had more room and access to your exposed neck and he could see the rest of your body since your head was now out of the way. The simple sight of his digitals getting soaked by you as he thrusted them inside of you had his cock hardening even more. He just wanted to be inside of you but even just pleasuring you was enough for him. Your whines started to grow louder and more frequent, alarming both men you were very close to your release. Charles was in pure agony, his senses were completely inebriated by you and all he could think about was you and how good you were feeling. As much as he hated to not be the one to please he enjoyed the sight anyway. With one last thrust of his fingers Pierre had you cuming hard around his digitals and that caused a loud moan to fall from your lips. As you came down from your high the two drivers shared a quick glance, which was enough for Pierre to know that Charles was on the verge of exploding. He needed you.

“Somebody is jealous, pretty... I think it’s his turn now...” he smirked when he spotted the monegasque standing up. You lazily opened your eyes to see your boyfriend towering over your shaking body. Your lips curved into a soft smile and you attempted to stand up with Pierre’s support. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you stared deep into his clear eyes. He was annoyed, turned on, pissed and very hard. He didn’t even say anything before smashing his lips against yours into a heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth, having missed the feeling of his lips on yours. So did he. Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to pull you even closer. Meanwhile Pierre stared at the scene in awe. Your ass only covered by your underwear was a sight for sore eyes along with how hard and needy you were kissing Charles. His cock twitched inside his pants and he couldn’t help but palm himself in hope to find some relief. Without even thinking about it twice he leaned in, his lips leaving a chaste kiss on your back dimples. You jolted, clearly not expecting to feel him behind you. Charles frowned and looked over your shoulder to find his best friend kneading his girlfriend’s bum. He smirked and reconnected your lips. You impatiently tried your best to get him out of his clothes, you were the only one essentially naked whilst both of them still wore all of their outfits. Your fingers quickly undid most of Charles’ buttons before pushing the shirt past his shoulders and exposing his torso. Your lips immediately found his neck as you tried not to mark him up. It wasn’t like nobody knew about you two but you didn’t want any attention over you two. A gasp left your lips when you felt something stinging your ass but soon pleasure took over pain as Pierre’s tongue soothed over the aching area. You could already feel arousal dripping down your walls just at the thought of him marking you up where nobody would have seen it.

“Such a lovely ass, ma belle... Making want to bend you over the couch and take you like this...” his hands massaging both cheeks as he stood right behind you, whispering all of this in your ear. Charles smirked seeing the reaction on your face to his words but before you could even reply he spun your around, making you face Pierre. Charles’ hands came to rest on your hips as you smiled up at the french man who smirked back at you. His lips ghosting over yours to tease you even more.

“Sit...” Charles pointed a spot on the couch. Pierre furrowed his brows but did as told. You didn’t know what his plans were but you knew you would have loved his idea anyway. He started to walk backwards before standing behind the lounge couch he was previously sitting on. Charles looked at you with a mischievous smile on his lips which you adored. He had always been the dominated one out of you two, which you didn’t mind because you loved being in charge and coming up with the kinkiest ideas which he loved as well. But seeing him taking control in a moment when you were still recovering from your previous orgasm and you felt quite vulnerable. His hands found their place on your waist, while yours cupped his cheeks lovingly.

“I think it’s time to remind you whose pussy this is, ma chérie.” His tone was harsh but his eyes said differently. He wanted to make sure both you and Pierre had heard him. You nodded, attempting to kiss him again but he was quick at turning you around and bend you over the chair. A yelp escaped your lips, not expecting such move but enjoyed the roughness of it. Pierre’s lips widened into an even bigger smirk as he liked the sight of you bent over. Charles wasted little to no time to push his pants and underwear down, stroking his length a bit even if he was already tremendously and painfully hard. You locked eyes with the french man, sitting across the room. His blue eyes were like two magnets for you, you couldn’t tear yours off him and only temporarily broke the eye contact when you felt Charles pushing himself inside of you. Your walls tightened around him immediately and he gave you a few seconds to adjust before starting off with a rough pace right away. His hands staying on your hips as he rammed into you. You were still quite sensitive but you didn’t mind his sudden change of manners. You liked it whenever he was rough with you.

“Tell him... Tell him how good it feels, mon amour...” Charles whispered in your ear after having bent down a bit to be closer to you. You whimpered at the change of angulation. Your eyes closing for a quick second as you struggled with keeping up with him but Charles didn’t like it, his hand coming to wrap around your neck and pushed your upper body up. Pierre licked his lips wet, enjoying the little show you guys were putting on. His cock hard in his trousers as he wished he was the one thrusting inside of you mercilessly.

“Shit... It feels so good, Pierre... Yes, fuck!” You moaned when your boyfriend started going harder rather than faster. He knew just how you liked it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let loose and got lost in the moment. The flashes of the night playing in your head as your thoughts ran across your mind. You remembered stepping inside the party with your handsome boyfriend by your side, you remembered most of his friends approaching you, Carlos sharing a couple jokes with him as you looked around the room before spotting Pierre. He looked breathtaking and you weren’t afraid of thinking so. He was holding a glass of champagne, his white button up was slightly open, a blue jacket over, pared up with blue pants. The rings on his hand making his whole outfit even better. The man had a sense of style. His hair was let free, you wondered if he had spent even a second trying to fix it. He took a sip of his champagne while speaking to someone whose identity was unknown to you. His eyes scanning the room as well until he met your gaze. A soft smirk spread across his face. You slightly blushed but kept your eyes on him while returning the smile before Charles’ arm was wrapped around your neck in a loving way. You were brought back to reality when Charles’ hand reached over and started to stimulate your clit as well. This dragged a deep moan out of your throat as you gripped the chair beneath you even harder.

“Go on, ma belle, cum all over his cock... So you can come and sit on mine.” His dirty words were enough to push you over the edge. Charles finished right after you, riding out both of your orgasms as he slowed down his thrusts. Pierre watched carefully your facial expressions as you came down your high, finally being able to see how your eyes screwed shut and your furrowed as the pleasure hit your whole body and you trembled beneath Charles. The monegasque sweetly caressed your sides, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings to you. He worshipped you like a goddess and you had never felt this loved with any of your past partners. What you and Charles had was special and you wouldn’t have lost it for nothing in this world. That was why you weren’t scared of allowing Pierre to join the party, because no matter how good he could make you feel, you were Charles’ and he knew that. He had always known that.

“You okay, baby?” He asked you as he helped you standing up. You nodded, moving around so that your arms were around his neck. He looked down at you and grinned, loving the look on your face. It made him feel special. It was in moments like this, when you’d give him those looks that he’d know he was the only one for you. He attached his lips to yours in a sweet kiss as you made your way towards the third component of the party. Pierre continued to sit, almost forgetting about his hard on until you pulled away from Charles and turned around to him. The hungry look you gave him was enough for him to cum there and then but he held back and smirked back, leaning back in the couch. You walked over to him and straddled his lap, his hands were quick at finding their spot on your thigh. He had a beautiful naked woman on top of him. He couldn’t be asking for more. You brushed your hand through his hair as you started to rock your hips back and forth slowly. The french man was not having it though. He had been watching you getting off the whole night and he needed you to help him out now. His ringed hand pushed your hair back and pulled you closer to whisper something in your ear.

“Ride me, ma jolie... I know your pretty pussy is dying to do that...” he smirked when he saw your pleased reaction at his words. You unbuttoned his shirt as well, finally being able to see him out of that teasing clothing item, your lips soon connected to his chest, leaving wet kisses and harsh bites that had him whimpering loudly. As you kissed your way around his naked torso your hands fumbled with his pants, trying to strip him out of them as well. You stood on your knees to push them at least past his ass, catching a glimpse of his toned thighs, the thought of riding one of them grazed through your mind. Pierre allowed you to have control over the situation in the first moment, finding it amusing how needy you still were after your two orgasms. In the mid-time Charles stared at you two from his chair, watching how greedily you swayed your hips, begging to find your release once again. Such a needy girl... He thought to himself.

“Fuck... Don’t tease me, darling, not today...” Pierre moaned when you set him free of his boxers. You almost drooled over the appearance of his cock. He guided your hips so that you could sit just a few inches over it, dying to fill you up. Then you sank down and neither of you could stop the strings of moans and profanities that left your mouths. Few things had felt this good in your life. The way his length completely stretched you out had you clenching around him right away. He filled you up so nicely, you had to pause for a quick moment. Pierre examined your face, your scrunched up nose and lip biting. He was feeling just like you. On cloud nine. You felt as if you were made for him and his cock. He pulled you closer as you slowly began to move, you were so sensitive and everything, every sense of yours was amplified.

“Oh god, I- Pierre, oh my g-...” the crown of his cock sat perfectly against yours walls and as you began to quicken your pace the pleasure began to build up. Tears of joy formed at the corner of your eyes, his hands helping you out with the pace along with his hips which he’d occasionally thrust up into you. Pierre himself was struggling to hold back, he let his hips buck up and hit that specific spot that had you moaning higher. Your head fell against his as his hands squeezed your ass and moved you at his pleasing pace, you were completely lost and furiously looking for your release. The knot in your stomach slowly tightening. He looked up at you and finally connected your lips into a wet kiss, a moan leaving his mouth. He had been waiting to kiss you for so long, he couldn’t get enough of you and even like this, completely at his mercy, he wanted more of you. You bounced on his cock quickly, his hands slapping occasionally your bum to keep you going. Charles was enamored by the way his cock slipped in and out of you and how wet you must have been to take him in so easily.

“You’re taking me so well, darling... Such a good girl...” Pierre mumbled as he watched you ride him. You moaned at his words, feeling your stomach twisting around for the praising just received. You knew you weren’t going to last long, after being so overstimulated it was hard to even think straight. Pierre let go of your hips and leaned back on the couch, arms behind his head as he enjoyed the view. You bit your bottom lip, glancing at how his sweaty body looked beneath you. It was a sight you could get used to, along with his clear eyes and scratchy scruff. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about sleeping with Pierre but it was definitely the first time you were acting upon your fantasy. Charles had noticed your weird behavior towards his friend and at first he thought none of it. But then he started to catch on what was happening. All those smiles, slight touches, flirty jokes, prolonged eye contacts. He knew what was going on.

“Keep doing that and I won’t last any longer, mon amour.” He stated as you began to clench around his length. You hissed, feeling more and more overstimulated and overwhelmed. You began to struggle to keep up with the pace and Pierre noticed it, taking the matter into his hands and helping you out by guiding your hips. Your forehead was pressed against his as you kissed him again, swallowing each other’s moans and groans.

“Right there, fuck...” you pulled away when he touched a sensitive spot inside of you. Your toes curled and you closed your eyes as waves of pleasure washed over you, your hips stilling as you quickly reached your high. You both wanted it to never end but it had been a long night and you weren’t able to keep it going for any longer. Pierre had been edging himself since the minute you had sunk down. He felt in heaven. And as soon as he saw you coming undone on top of him he couldn’t stop himself from following you right after. Loads of curses and moans soon filled the room as you rode out your orgasms. You collapsed on top of him, out of breath as he caressed your back. His lips pressed a soft kiss to your temple as you slowly calmed down. It had been an eventful night for the three of you. Pierre took fully care of you, making sure you’d recover before getting up. Charles observed how lovingly his eyes looked at you or how sweetly he caressed your back. He knew Pierre and he wanted to believe that there was nothing to worry about but it was hard to think so when he was literally treating you like you were his girlfriend. Maybe it was just dumb jealousy, maybe not...

“Mmh... This is nice...” you muttered in a state of trance. Pierre smiled at you and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing his thumb against the skin of your cheek. You looked adorable like this, half asleep, half awoken. Your lips were slightly parted and your cheekbones were still rosy, you were a bit sweaty but he didn’t care. Your body pressed against his felt natural, as if you were both made to be doing this. He wasn’t sure that you felt the same way, but he liked how you had almost fallen asleep in his arms. He had even almost forgotten about Charles who was glaring at him, too enamored by you to even notice. But soon he saw a hand coming in contact with your hair, gently brushing through it as you slowly opened your eyes. Charles smiled down at you, what was before anger and annoyance now turned into softness and love. He couldn’t even think about being angry with you when you looked like that.

“C’mere, I’ll run you a bath... You did such a great job, ma chérie... I love you.” He whispered in a sickeningly sweet tone. You held onto his arms as he lifted you up and off Pierre, who simply let you go. The monegasque held you tight against his body as he walked towards the bathroom.

“I love you too, baby...” you stated loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Pierre knew that. He didn’t need you to say it because he knew that, what he didn’t know was the reason why it bothered him so much to be reminded of that. He shrugged it all off and started dressing himself, buttoning his shirt up and fixing his hair. It was his time to leave now. And he did, bringing along all the memories of the eventful night and the knowledge that it might have meant more than it should have...