#asficdiary

But the break never lasted forever. You could feel it shifting already, the way his phone lit up more often, the steady increase of Red Bull emails in his inbox, the way you always caught him in thought, about the rest of the season no doubt. Max was easing back into race mode, even if you were still caught in the lingering softness of summer mornings spent tangled up with him.

That was why waking up to an empty bed felt so jarring. The sheets were still warm on his side, but the cool stretch of absence had you pulling on the plain white shirt you’d torn off him and slid back into the black underwear he’d stripped from you the night before. You padded barefoot down the hall, expecting him in the kitchen, maybe making coffee. 

Instead, you found him on the couch, eyes narrowed, his jaw set in that familiar concentration. The TV flickered with last year’s Dutch GP replay, the orange army as your only clue. The volume was low, and his notebook lay open across his thigh. He was already halfway through a page of scrawled notes, pen tapping absently against the margin. “Morning,” you murmured, settling onto the cushion beside him.

He hummed, distracted, not looking up.

You leaned in, kissed his shoulder, the clean fabric of his hoodie brushing your lips. Nothing. Just the sound of engines from the TV and the scratch of his pen. “Why am I not surprised you ditched a naked girl in your bed for a race”

“Need to finish these notes,” he said simply, chewing on the end of the pen, eyes locked on the screen. The sight made your thighs press together. His lips wrapped around plastic, teeth dragging it out with a slow pull, jaw clenching as he jotted something else down. He didn’t even notice how you shifted closer, tugging at the hem of his hoodie until your knee brushed his.

“Max,” you whispered, your mouth brushing the sharp line of his jaw. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even glance at you. He just smirked faintly, still watching the car dart around Zandvoort. You tugged lightly at his hoodie, pressing your hand under the fabric to graze his stomach. “Pay attention to me…”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even glance at you. Just smirked faintly, chewing on the end of his pen. “Schat, you’re very persistent this morning,” he murmured without looking away, eyes still tracking the car darting through Zandvoort.

You huffed, throwing yourself backwards on the couch. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, kissing the side of his neck. He shook his head writing down more notes. That only made your chest tighten, needing heightening with every second of his deliberate indifference. Your hand skimmed higher, brushing his side, nails teasing the waistband of his sweatpants. Finally, a low chuckle, eyes flicking to yours. “Fine,” he said, voice rough and amused, patting his thigh. “You want to be fucked? Prove to me how much” He challenged. Your eyes searched for him and you knew whatever he was going to ask would humiliate you, just a bit. “Ride my thigh, slet”

Your eyes widened, taken off guard, “What? Max?” You tried acting offended, or even possibly turned off but the truth was it was anything but. It was something you always joked about, fantasized about even. But he’d always play it off as a joke. Max’s smirk only deepened at your expression, pen dangling lazily from his fingers now. “Don’t look so shocked,” he murmured, leaning back into the couch like he had all the time in the world. 

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you get when we joke about it? I want you desperate, soaking my shorts, moaning like I’m inside you.” Heat pooled low in your stomach, your thighs pressing together instinctively. 

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, though your voice wavered, betraying you.

He tilted his head, watching you squirm. “Schat, you want to get high off my thighs. Don’t bother pretending otherwise.” He gave his leg another deliberate pat, a quiet command.

Your pulse spiked. Every part of you screamed to move, to climb into his lap and prove him right. And when you did, the way his hands came to settle heavy on your hips, guiding you down against the flex of his muscle, stole the air from your lungs.

You swung a leg over him, straddling his thigh, the worn cotton of his shorts brushing against the thin strip of your underwear. Max hummed low in his chest, pleased, his big hands settling on your hips like they belonged there. He didn’t push, didn’t rush. Just sat back, lips twisting as if he knew how badly you needed it already.

“Go on then,” he said softly, taunting. “Show me.”

You shifted, pressing down until the pressure made your breath hitch, a needy sound escaping before you could stop it. The muscle of his thigh was firm beneath you, and the friction already had heat licking through your veins.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, voice low, thumb stroking the bare skin of your hip. “Knew you’d give in fast. Always so fucken horny for me.”

You whimpered, rocking against him, each drag sending sparks through your body. The wet slide of your panties against the rough fabric made your cheeks burn. Max’s smirk only grew. “Look at you,” he rasped, tightening his grip to guide your movements, forcing you to grind deeper against the hard line of his thigh. “You love this shit. Can’t even pretend otherwise.”

Your head tipped forward, a moan slipping out, thighs trembling with the pace he set. His hoodie still smelled like him, salt air and sweat, and the low rumble of the Dutch GP commentary played forgotten in the background while he coaxed you closer and closer to the edge. You found a rhythm, rolling your hips in slow, hungry drags. Max’s hand stayed firm on your hip, grounding you, guiding you. Without care one left your hip and he casually reached for the notebook still perched against the arm of the couch, pen scratching across the page like you weren’t trembling on top of him.

“Are you-” you gasped, pausing in disbelief as another needy shiver jolted through you, “fuck- actually taking notes right now?”

“Mm,” he hummed, unbothered, glancing at the screen again. His thigh flexed beneath you, urging you forward even as he jotted something down. “Multi-tasking.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re insufferable.”

The smirk tugged at his lips, eyes flicking briefly to yours, dark and amused. “And you’re still riding me, schat.”

Frustration bubbled, mixing with the heat curling low in your stomach. If he wanted to act unaffected, that was fine, you’d make him notice. You braced against his shoulders and rocked down harder, faster, dragging yourself across the thick muscle of his thigh with new determination.

That finally pulled a low grunt from him, pen pausing mid-word. His grip on your hip tightened, thumb pressing into your skin. “Fuck,” he muttered, jaw clenching as he looked back at you. “That’s it. Show me how bad you want it.” You ground down harder, chasing the burn, the friction, the way his thigh flexed just right when you moved against it. Heat coiled sharp and tight in your belly, spilling out in broken whimpers you couldn’t hold back.

Max dropped the pen at last, forgotten on the couch. Both hands gripped your hips now, holding you to his pace, his gaze finally locked on yours. “Always love that, don’t you?” he rasped, voice thick. “Getting high off my thighs.”

Your head fell forward, forehead against his, your breath breaking apart. “Max! Please!”

“That’s it.” His words threaded through the pounding in your ears. “Come for me.”

The pleasure tears through you all at once. You collapsed against him, trembling, nails clutching at his shoulders as wave after wave rolled through you. His hands kept you pressed down, riding it out until you sagged boneless against his chest, breathing sinking into your thigh-high bliss. He hummed, low and satisfied, thumb stroking lazily over your waist. “Always so fucking horny for me.”

Before you could catch your breath, he shifted, rolling you back onto the cushions with ease. His body hovered over yours, shadows flickering across his sharp grin. “Now,” he murmured, voice promising filth, “I’ll give you what you really want.”

A friend who he had made in karts, before everything had gotten competitive and Jake had chosen to move to endurance racing instead of F1. Lately the pair's messages were just voice notes about racing and catching up with each other's lives. He typed a message and sent it with a sigh.

Hey mate. Stuck in Italy because of a storm. Any chance I can crash at yours?

He was tired and the hotel room sounded like hell. He wanted comfort, somewhere he could relax. Jake's reply came almost immediately.

Hey. In Japan at the moment, my sister is in the city for the night for a concert. But the spare key is taped under the Gnome sitting on the porch light. Let yourself in.

It was followed by an address. It was the same address Max had put in the uber booking. When he got to the house, it was pitch black except for the small porch light. He found the key easily smiling at the little red nosed gnome that sat perched on top of the porch light, like a little guardian. He let himself in, the moon light filtering through the mesh curtains as his only light. He dumped his bags beside the cough, kicked off his shoes and immediately lay down. The softness of the couch was welcome after the hard metal benches he had spent the past few hours on. He pulled out his phone telling Jake he had made it and thanking him. As the message double ticked signalling it had been delivered Max heard a noise.

It was a muffed noise he couldn’t quite place. He sat up adrenaline immediately filling his veins as he heard it again. He tried rationing it, perhaps it was a branch against a window somewhere, or possibly the house just settling. But then it came again, and his fist clenched. He decided to investigate, hoping it was any of the possible reasons he had made. He looked around picking up a letter opener that was on the table right beside the door.

He padded down the hallway, the floor creaking softly beneath him. There was another noise, something that sounded like a voice coming from behind a closed door and he took a deep breath. His hand on the knob, letter opener in the other.

When he opened the door he was met with something completely different than any of the ideas that could have run through his head. Instead you lay there, legs spread hand between your legs the other gripping the sheet. A small moan of his name left your mouth. He let out a surprised yelp immediately stepping back and closing the door as your eyes snapped open and you let out a small scream.

He stood frozen in the hallway, his eyes on the door, his pulse racing.The image passed through his mind again and he felt heat crawl over him. “Fuck, Shit, shit,” He started muttering. “Sorry, I’m so sorry” He shouted, turning and hurrying back to the living room again. Looking for his shoes and trying to get them on as quickly as he could. The hallway light turned on followed by the living room and he winced at the change.

“Who are you?” You asked, staring at the back of the random guy sitting on your couch, your pepper spray held high.

“It’s-uh, it’s me,” Max stammered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Max. Jake said I could crash here. I didn’t know you were home.”

You paused, cringing inside, totally horrified. He turned to you with his hands still up and the deer in headlights look on his face matched yours. You lowered the pepper spray, your heart hammering in your chest. For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then the faintest sound of nervous laughter. “Jake said you were in the city for the night. My flight got diverted, I was gonna crash on the couch for the night.”

“Why did you come to my room then?” You asked, the embarrassment making you wish to never see sunlight again.

“I heard noises, thought someone was breaking in” He admitted and you cringed. Not only had he seen you, he had heard you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “Look, I'm sorry. Jake told me you weren’t here. I- I can book a hotel if you’d prefer, I just. I’m sorry”

You let out a sigh and shook your head. “No, no, it’s-it’s okay. Just forget what you saw?”

“Think that’s best” He swallowed. You nodded.

“Okay…well goodnight, Verstappen” You said and turned to walk away.

“Night” he whispered before letting out a heavy sigh. He lay back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. He felt both horrible and slightly turned on, and he hated himself for it.

Hours had gone by of him staring at the ceiling when he heard the faint footsteps pad past him and into the kitchen. The fridge door opened, then shut, the quiet sound of running water filling the silence. He sifted leaning on his arms. “You okay?” He asks, filling the eerie silence making you jump.

“Jesus” You cursed putting your hand to your heart. “You really have that surprise feature down” You breathed out, he chuckled. “I thought you were asleep, sorry”

“No, I wasn’t. It’s fine” he said, voice low, tired but edged with something else. “Couldn’t sleep.”

An awkward pause hung between you. The hum of the refrigerator filled it, too loud in the dark.

“Look, about earlier-” you started.

“It’s fine,” he interrupted quickly. “I just…” He trailed off, the words almost leaving his mouth before he caught himself. “Nevermind.” You studied him for a second. He bit the inside of his lip before he spoke again. “You said my name?”

Your blood ran cold. “What?”

“You moaned my name,” he says awkwardly.

“I don’t-” You start but sigh. “I did,” you admit. Why not make this worse.

“Why?” His curiosity was getting the better of him. He knew he should stop, that he should just roll over and go to sleep, but he couldn’t.

You stared at him. “You are a rather fine muse” you said and winced.

He huffed out a laugh, half-disbelieving. “A fine muse, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“You don’t have to look so smug,” you muttered, grabbing a glass from the counter. “I was half asleep.”

“Sure,” he said softly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You sounded very much awake.”

You froze mid-pour. “Max.”

He stood slowly, the blanket slipping from his lap. The low light from the windows caught the line of his jaw, the faint flush still there. “You don’t have to explain,” he said, voice quieter now. “But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s burnt into my brain” He was exhausted, and probably delusional, but he didn’t care. You were beautiful, and always had been, but he never made any moves because of Jake.

You turned, heart pounding so loud it filled the silence. “About what?”

He tilted his head slightly. “About how it sounded.”

Your breath hitched. “How what sounded?”

“My name,” he murmured, stepping closer, “on your lips.”

You laughed weakly, trying to brush past him, but he caught your wrist gently, not hard, just enough to stop you. His thumb brushed over your pulse.

“We don’t have to pretend like nothing happened,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “We can just… mess around.” He hesitated, voice dipping even lower. “Your brother doesn’t need to know.”

“Your fucking with me right?” You asked in disbelief.

He shook his head. “Look, it’s not conventional, but it’s either that or I go to that bathroom and feel like a pathetic man afterwards”

You studied him, your heart beating a million miles an hour. “You interrupted me” You say your voice shaky. “I want to finish the job. You can do the same” You said and his lips twitched in confusion. “Mutual masturbation” You swallowed after the words left your lips.

His breath hitched and he nodded. “Okay” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you, you dodged him walking to the window looking into the living room. You closed the curtain and turned the light on.

“You have your couch” You pointed at the couch he had been sleeping on. “I’ll take mine” You pointed at the leather chaise longue. He nodded, sitting back on his side of the room. “My brother can never know about this.” You say.

“Never” He repeats.

You move to the longue and sit down. The gown you were wearing slipped open as you opened your legs. Max made quick work of the jeans he was wearing. His boxers too. You leaned back and looked at him, your core clenching at nothing. He was big, fuck he was huge. You moaned, closing your eyes. Your fingers found your clit.

He said your name and you looked at him. “Match my pace” he commanded and you nodded your fingers matching the pace of which he had set for himself. You let out a shaky breath, your toes curling. He slowly but surely quickened the pace, and you matched him. You moaned and he grunted.

He moaned your name and you shivered. You forgot the shared pace as you brought yourself to the edge faster. “Fuck, so greedy” He moaned and you whimpered. “Already came for me?” He asked and you nodded with a small whine. “Such a good fucken girl. God, I wish I could taste you, baby” He said and when you looked at him again he was fucking his hand, the head swollen and glistening.

“Max” you whispered his name.

He groaned. “Keep talking, baby” His head was leaned back, his neck flexing in a way that made you wetter than you already are.

“I want you max. Please. Just, fuck, just come here” You whined and his head shot up, eyes connecting with yours. The look hungry, asking if you were serious. You nodded and he was across the room in seconds. He lifted your chin to look up at him.

“Tell me what you want, baby” He said and you tried avoiding his gaze. “Don’t test me” He warned.

“I’ve never had sex” You admit. “But I wanna feel you”

He chuckled and leaned down his lips millimeters from yours. “You can’t have both?”

“Just the tip” you whispered and he moaned. His mouth connected with yours, the kiss hot and messy. He climbs on top of you, trapping you with his body.

“Can’t believe no one's ever fucked this beautiful body” He whispers a hand slipping between your legs. You gasp as he slips a finger inside you easily. He groans before adding a second digit. You clench around him and he kisses you. “Have to make sure you're ready for my head, beautiful girl” he says, his fingers scissoring and spreading you open. You moan and kiss his shoulder.

He fucks you with his fingers, dirty words of praise in your ear, until you come all over his fingers. He lavishes in it pulling them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a groan. “Fuck, you taste devine” he groans.

“Max!” You beg and he nods.

“Mmm? You want my cock, beautiful?” He asks and you nod fast. “Okay, beautiful” he nods before lining up. You feel him at your entrance, pressing against you. “Are you sure you want this baby?” He asks with eyes full of concern.

“Just the tip” You murmur and he kisses you cheek, before rutting forward. The head of his dick enters you eliciting a half cry- half scream moan. Your entire body is set alight and you feel tears well in your eyes. “Max” You cry and his head drops to your shoulder.

“I know baby, I know” he says, his body shaking with strained restraint. He starts rutting his hips slowly, pushing and pulling his tip around you. It earns gasps and cries from you. “Fuck” he curses under his breath.

“Take it” You cry. “Take my virginity”

“Fuck, are you sure?” He asks, studying your face. You nod and he kisses you. He pushes all the way inside you and you grip at him. The cotton of his shirt fisting in your hands. He buries himself in you letting you adjust to the size of him. The intrusion is fulling in a way you never thought possible. You moaned as he shifted, pleasure ripping through your body.

“I’m gonna start moving, okay?” He asks and you breathe before nodding. He starts slow and picks up space till you're shaking and a mess beneath him. Every inch of your body is on fire, and your pleasure has taken on a new height. Every thrust earned a moan from the both of you. “Fuck, your so tight baby” He groaned. “I’m not gonna last long” he breathed in your ear before kissing you.

After a few more thrusts you both came at the same time, max over your stomach. He kissed your forehead afterwards and you had taken him to sleep in your bed for the night.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep.

“Yea-” your voice cracks and you sigh. He hums pulling you closer. You gnaw at your lip, your mind running. “Osc?” you say so soft you doubt he even hears you, maybe it's for the best. 

“Love?” He replies heavily. 

You take a deep breath already regretting what you're about to ask. “Have you ever heard of consensual non-concent?” You ask embarrassed. He stills in your arms, his body going rigid.

“No, I mean yes I have but I- no, that’s not- no” he stumbles over his words before he takes a deep breath. “I’m not raping you, consensual or not”

Your face burns hotter. “That’s… extreme, and not for me. I mean…” you fidget under the cover, shy now, words tumbling out. “If… if you wake up craving me, I want to give you that… consent. I’ve always… had this dream… of waking up with you between my legs.”

He freezes for a moment, then a soft chuckle escapes him, low and approving. “Is that all?”

Your cheeks flame hotter, and you hide your face in the pillow, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. “Y-yeah… that’s all. I… I didn’t mean to-”

He lifts himself up onto an arm, his other moving to your face. He tilts your chin up gently, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “Shh… it’s okay. I get it. You’re not asking me to do anything crazy. You’re just telling me your fantasy.” You swallow hard, heart racing, unable to speak, and he leans closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple. “And I like it,” he murmurs against your skin, “a lot.”

You let out a shaky breath, curling into him, the heat in your body softening into something warm and anticipatory. “I love you” You whisper and he smiles. 

When the first light of dawn streams through the curtains, you stir lazily, still half-dreaming. Your body is humming, and you feel both weightless and sinking in the bed. The room has that familiar scent of him that draws a sleepy sigh from your lips. Then, you feel him. Soft, deliberate, intimate. Your eyes fly open, and the haze of sleep crashes against the electric heat of the moment.

“I love you too, now can we get some sleep. I have a race tomorrow" he huffs down onto you. You chuckle and nod. 

He’s between your legs, your thighs on either shoulder. He hums against you, attentive, careful, reading every tiny shift of your body, every breath, every stir. Your hands clutch the sheets instinctively, and he pauses just long enough to let you adjust to the sensation, never rushing, always aware of your comfort. His hair is messy and a stray hair has fallen to his forehead. 

The world outside hasn’t started yet. There’s only him, you, and the golden morning light spilling across the bed. His lips, his hands, the quiet rhythm of his attention. All of it, it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of, and more. His tongue works wonders as it teases you, his nose nudging that sensitive bud. You shiver, half-asleep, half-awake, letting yourself melt into it, trusting him fully. 

Your hips press instinctively against him, though your mind is still foggy with sleep, half-dreaming of the warmth and skill of his mouth. Every gentle flick, every teasing brush, sends shivers down your spine. You bite your lip, cheeks burning, and a soft whimper escapes before you can stop it.

He pauses for a heartbeat, looking up at you with those dark, attentive eyes, as if checking that you’re okay. “You like that?” he murmurs, voice low and husky, teasing but tender.

You nod, voice barely above a whisper. “Mmhm… yes…”

A slow chuckle rumbles from him, and he presses another soft kiss to your inner thigh, savoring the taste of you. “Good,” he murmurs, “because I could do this forever.”

Your fingers clutch the sheets tighter, toes curling, heart hammering in your chest. You’re half-ashamed of how weak you feel, half-thrilled at the trust you’ve given him. His hands glide over your hips, steadying, grounding you, never rough, always attentive. The morning light spills across your entwined bodies, golden and lazy, and for a few timeless moments, it’s just you and him  completely consumed by each other.

Your breath catches, broken and shallow, and a high, soft moan escapes before you can stop it. He hums against you, a deep, approving sound that makes your body melt further into him. “That’s it,” he murmurs, every word slow and deliberate, feeding your anticipation. 

He picks up his pace, using his fingers to find that spot inside you that makes your already heavily lids, heavier. “Osc” you whisper and you feel him smirk against you. He hums low, and your body tenses for half a second before melting again, each careful movement sending shivers down your spine.

A soft whimper escapes your lips, and he chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Give it to me,” he murmurs, voice husky, teasing, yet tender. Your cheeks heat, and you bite your lip, still half-asleep, caught between vulnerability and raw, growing pleasure. A shiver races through you, spreading from your core to every nerve ending. Your hips press instinctively against him, but he steadies you, letting each movement build slowly, deliberately. The world narrows to the press of his hands, the brush of his lips, the teasing rhythm of his tongue and fingers.

Your muscles tighten, your chest rising and falling erratically, heart hammering in your throat. A wave of pleasure swells inside you, then another, building faster, stronger, until your knees shake and your entire body shudders in release. A low, startled cry slips past your lips, muffled in the sheets, and he hums again, grounding you, holding you safe even as your body trembles uncontrollably.

Your climax washes over you in soft, endless waves, leaving you dizzy, flushed, and utterly spent. He lingers against you, not letting go, his hands and lips still gentle, soothing, attentive, letting the aftershocks ebb slowly. Your chest presses against his, your breathing uneven, and for a few perfect, golden moments, the world outside doesn’t exist.

You pull him up towards you and kiss him. Finally, you manage a shaky laugh, “I love you”.

He kisses your temple, soft and lingering. “I love you too,” he murmurs, voice warm, steady. You nod, still trembling slightly, and curl closer to him. Safe, wanted, and completely spent, you let yourself drift back toward sleep, golden light spilling across your entwined bodies, the memory of the morning lingering like a private, perfect secret between you.

He never introduced you as his girlfriend, only his assistant. That’s who you were to him, his assistant he sometimes fucked. You wanted to say it was more, you often talked to his sister, and grew apart of his family. You were his plus ones to dinners, events, and galas. He treated you like his girlfriend, all private moments and inside jokes.

You never thought much of it, much less ever spoke about it. You assumed it was because he’d been hurt by his previous girlfriend, the person who he had planned to marry. It was why it didn’t matter much. You’d be the chill girl. You’d give him time and space. You’d be there when he decided he was ready for that relationship. Your friends called you a loser, but you believed he couldn’t lose you. 

Yet you paused outside his drivers room before quali when you heard him talking to friends. Their voices were like a body being dragged across gravel as they asked him that question you had almost asked so many times. “She’s with you all the time, surely she’s your girlfriend?” His friend had asked and you held your breath waiting for his answer. 

It came like a bucket of ice water being thrown over you. “We’re not together dude.”

“Does she know that?” His friend followed up.

“I said when we started this thing that there weren't gonna be any attachments. It’s casual, that’s all it is. It’s just sex. She knows she likes it the way it is” He said, and you froze with a folder still in your hands, heart knocking too hard against your ribs. You’d seriously thought he was done talking like that. You had thought that the looks, the late nights, the quiet “stay a bit longer” meant something more than convenience. But apparently, it was still casual. It had always been casual.

You turned before anyone could see you, walking out through the garage until the cool night air hit your face. The sting behind your eyes felt ridiculous. You had seriously thought he thought of you better. You cursed yourself as you walked to the hospitality, needing a second to yourself. 

But when Qualifying had finished, Max in first per usual, you had gone silent. Only giving him the most important information. You had promised to drive back to the hotel together, but when you got in the car, he had put his hand on your thigh and it had made you mad. You had stayed silent the entire ride, your thoughts running a million miles an hour. 

“Hey, you okay schat? You’ve been quiet today. Didn’t see you before Quali?” He asked as you had pulled into the hotel parking lot.

You unclipped your seatbelt, the sound too loud in the small, dark car.  “Didn’t see me before quali?” you repeated, voice flat. “Probably because I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation.”

He frowned, confused for a second, then realization flickered across his face. “You heard that.”

You laughed, a small, humorless sound. “Yeah. Kinda hard not to when you’re standing right outside the door.”

“Look, I…”

“Don’t.” You turned toward the window, watching the reflection of the parking lot lights on the glass. “You don’t have to explain it. You made it clear what this is.”

He was silent for a moment, his hand still resting on the gearshift like he didn’t know what to do with it. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

You looked back at him then, his jaw set like he was bracing for impact. “You said it was casual,” you said quietly. “So let’s keep it casual.”

The words sat between you, thick and sharp. You reached for the door handle, but he locked the car before you could push it open. His grip was gentle, but it held you there. “Don’t walk away angry,” he said. His voice was low, pleading in a way that made your stomach twist.

You turned your hand, fingers brushing his, more out of habit than forgiveness. “Then don’t talk about me like I’m some rumor.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The car engine ticked as it cooled, the world outside quiet. It was the kind of silence that begged to be broken. He leaned forward just enough for you to feel his breath against your cheek. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

You should’ve pulled away. Instead, you let the words sit between you, the air thick with something that wasn’t apology or affection, just heat and unfinished anger. You had tried to respond but he had kissed you, and like that first time your mind had gone blank. It was passionate and sweet and you wished you could bottle up the taste of his lips on yours.

Your hands found his hair as his found your hips. He had pulled you up a little, your back leaning against the passenger door, your one leg coming up to the seat. He bit your lip as his hand slid between your legs, “Don’t do that,” you whispered, but your voice shook, betraying you.

He leaned in closer, breath uneven. “Do what?”

“Pretend like this fixes it.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours, and for a long second neither of you moved. The sound of your breathing filled the car, heavy and uneven, as he worked his hand between your legs. You could still feel the anger beneath it, both of you too proud to admit what it meant, too tangled up to stop. When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed your jaw, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him touch you again.

“This doesn’t change anything,” you said quietly.

“I know,” he replied, but his voice didn’t sound convincing as he shifted. He pulled the leg that had been on the chair over his shoulder as he bent down. HIs mouth connected with your core and you gasped. He moaned as his tongue licked up the slick he had previously made sure was there.

“Always so sweet” He groaned as his tongue found your clit. He circled it eliciting a moan from you as you threw your head against the passenger window. His hands joined his mouth, each in opposite rhythms, matching each other in the best way to ruin you. It earns sound from you that has him pulling his spare hand up to your mouth in order to muffle the sounds. And when he tells you to come you chase that high bucking your hips against him, with a hunger that shocks him. He moans as you clench around him and your legs shake. The waves of pleasure hit you and you grab at anything and everything. His hair, his shoulders, his team polo. 

He guides you through it before pulling your leg down and kissing you. The taste of your release on his lips is sweet like cherries. But when he pulls back and you straighten again, everything comes rushing back. The anger, the insecurities, the disappointment in yourself. 

“Just casual right?” You ask and he nods.

“Just Casual.” He agrees and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Right” You say before pushing the door open and getting out of the car. “Go to hell, Verstappen” You wanted to hate him. You wanted to make him feel small, the way he’d made you feel. But he was looking at you like you were breaking his heart.

But he hadn’t ignored it, he had taken your hand instead and told you he didn’t care, that you were still his best friend. And when it had come out your second year in F1, without your permission, Fernando had been the very first to defend you to the media. It had lost you a couple sponsors and made your seat security questionable, but you’d gotten over it and he’d been there through it off. 

It had been hard having a relationship as close as yours and being in such an intense sport. Especially when Fernando had gotten signed first and started his formula one career. You had been beyond excited for him, but suddenly you were separated by series and schedules. Your relationship had become one of late-night phone calls catching up and random texts when you both had a chance. 

You’d gotten into formula one the same year he’d won his second championship, and although in a different team you’d been pulled into the celebrations because inhis own words, “you missed the first one, you won’t miss the second”. It had everyone and their mother taking notice of your relationship, the relationship where you were always either with each other or looking for the other. 

It was normal, just like it always had been. Just like it was to slip into each other's room after bad races and into each other's arms for breakdowns. It had never been weird, you’d grown up together like that. Your family were interconnected, sisters who were just as close and parents who had monthly barbeques. It was normal. 

Until Fernando had gotten weird. It was after a crash that had you sitting out for a couple races, and suddenly Fernando who always cared more about your health, was suddenly MIA. You’d tried asking him and he hadn’t been able to explain it, said you were over thinking things and he was just busy. 

But it was something more you knew, because suddenly the man who was always there was not anymore. You blamed it on Ferrari and the pressure that came with it, you blamed it on the pressure and image Ferrari pushed. One that you weren’t a part of, not someone like you. Even if you’d never been public with your relationships or loud about it, it still hung over you like a sign you hadn’t wanted to put up. 

And then you blamed it on the championship, he was fighting for a title in Ferrari, the title of more than a nation, of a religion. But he’d lost it, in a moment of pure pain and disassociation, he’d stared at his  car, that feeling of defeat hitting him. 

Then came the aftermath, he’d pushed everyone away including you, and you couldn’t fight him anymore, your spirit had been broken, your relationship changed. 

It’s why when your phone rang in the middle of the night, his name in bold letters, it felt like water had been splashed on you. You answered the phone, not sure what the older man could have wanted at 2am, and his voice had filled your ears. All drunken, and slurred, he hadn’t sounded like he was out clubbing, which had been his escape after the championship loss. 

Instead he had sounded warm, cozy, his hotel room. When he spoke his words were ones that were broken, asking you to come over, and even though you knew better you did, because you always did. You would always be there for him, no matter what happened. 

The hotel room was dim when you arrived. Not dark. Just dim enough that the city lights bleeding through the curtains painted everything in shades of gold and grey. Fernando was sitting on the floor beside the bed. A bottle rested loosely in his hand.

He spoke in mumbles and whispered slurs that you couldn’t understand. He looked exhausted, not physically, but emotionally. Like something inside him had finally broken.

"Jesus, Nando."

A laugh escaped him, humourless and hollow. "You came."

"Of course I came." His gaze dropped, because that seemed to hurt him more than anything else. You’d ever said had. 

You crossed the room and carefully took the bottle from his hand. He didn't fight you, didn’t argue or complain. He just let it happen.

It had scared you more than if he had refused.  "Come on," you said quietly. "Let's get you into bed."

Fernando allowed you to pull him to his feet. The moment he stood, he swayed. Your hand immediately moved to his waist to steady him. A movement you had done hundreds of times over the years.

Everything about it was normal, or always had been but instead Fernando froze.

You frowned. "Nando?"

His eyes were fixed on you, or as fixed as they could be through his drunken tears. Something unreadable moved behind them, something you'd never seen before.

The room suddenly felt too small, too quiet, too warm. "You stayed."

You blinked, confused. "What?"

"You always stay." His voice cracked.

The sound of it made your chest ache. "Fernando..."

"Everyone leaves." He continued. His words were slurred from alcohol but the hurt behind them was painfully clear.

"Not everyone." You whispered, pulling the blanket back from the bed for him. 

You guided him towards the bed, but he didn't move. Instead he grabbed your wrist, hard enough to make you stop. The gesture made you look up and at him.

His eyes were glassy. Red-rimmed. Filled with something that looked dangerously close to heartbreak. "I don't know how to do this anymore." The confession hit harder than you expected.

This was Fernando. Fernando who always had answers. Fernando who could survive anything. Fernando who never let people see him bleed. Fernando who was always the strong one. Yet here he was. Falling apart right in front of you.

"You don't have to figure it out tonight." You whispered and for a second he simply just stared straight through you. 

Then his gaze dropped to your mouth. You didn't understand what was happening until he leaned forward. The movement was hesitant. Almost uncertain. As if he was waiting for you to stop him. As if part of him already knew he shouldn't be doing this.

Your breath caught, everything seemed to freeze, your heart beating a thousand times faster. 

Then instinct took over, and you stepped back. The distance you created between the two of you appears instantly. "Fernando."

His face fell and the realization hit him immediately.

He looked horrified, like he'd just woken from a dream and understood exactly what he'd done. You stared at him, trying to calm you 

He stared at the floor, the silence was deafening. 

"Fer?" Your voice came out quieter than you intended.

Fernando squeezed his eyes shut, and you watched shame wash across his face. The kind of shame that made your stomach twist.

"Nando."

"I didn't mean…" He stopped, because that wasn't true. You both knew it. You didn’t know when your crush on Fernando had started, and much less that he would ever be interested, but the looks he sent you were never ever casual. 

The words hung between you, heavily. They were dangerous and terrifying both at the same time. And for the first time in twenty years, neither of you knew what to say.

“I don’t know who I am anymore”  The words came out broken, barely louder than a whisper, before he started crying.

Not the quiet tears you had seen after bad races or disappointing results. This was ugly. The kind of crying that shook his entire body. The kind that made it difficult to breathe.

You didn't hesitate.

Your arms wrapped around him automatically, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder. Fernando clung to you immediately. Like a drowning man grabbing onto the only thing keeping him afloat.

"Nando," you whispered.

He shook his head. "I had it." His voice cracked. "I had it."

The championship. You knew exactly what he meant. You felt his fingers tighten against the back of your shirt.

"I was supposed to win."

"I know."

"I had it."

"I know."

You guided him towards the bed, this time he let you. The moment he sat down, he grabbed your wrist again. Not wanting you to leave. Not trusting that you would stay.

You kicked your shoes off and climbed onto the mattress beside him. Immediately Fernando moved closer. Years of habit taking over. Just like when you were teenagers sharing hotel rooms, like after bad karting weekends. Just like after your first retirement in Formula One.

Only this time felt different.

His head found your chest while your hand moved through his hair, slowly, patiently. Just waiting for the storm to pass.

For several minutes neither of you spoke. Fernando simply cried. Then eventually the words started coming. Broken pieces. Half-finished thoughts. Fragments of pain. "They all wanted it."

You frowned. "Who?"

"Ferrari." His laugh sounded miserable. "It wasn't just my championship." His eyes squeezed shut. "It was theirs."

You listened, because that was all you could do. "I let everyone down."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"You didn't."

His breathing hitched. "You don't understand." Maybe you didn't, maybe nobody could, not completely. Not unless they'd spent years carrying the weight of an entire nation on their shoulders. 

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore." His voice was quieter now, exhausted and defeated. You kept running your fingers through his hair. The familiar motion slowly grounding him. Then he laughed again. A short, broken sound. "I kissed you."

Your stomach twisted. Fernando immediately hid his face against your shoulder. Ashamed, embarrassed, and terrified all at once. "I know."

"I'm sorry."

You swallowed with a small nod "I know."

"I don't know why I did that." The lie sounded weak even to his own ears. You felt it in the way his body tensed.

The silence stretched. "But maybe I do." The admission barely reached you. You almost missed it. Fernando's breathing became uneven again. "I can't be."

You frowned. "Can't be what?"

His grip tightened. "So stupid."

"Nando."

"I can't be." The words sounded frightened. Not disgusted, or  angry, but frightened. His voice cracked. "I'm a driver." The confession hit harder than anything else he'd said all night.

As if those things were mutually exclusive. As if being Fernando Alonso and wanting men could not possibly exist in the same universe. 

Your chest ached. "Nando."

"I'm Ferrari." The words came tumbling out now. Desperately pulling at something to ground him. "I have sponsors and cameras and expectations and-"

"Fernando." You tried again. 

"I can't be that person." You carefully placed a hand against the side of his head. Waiting until he finally looked up.

"You don't have to figure any of that out tonight." You said and his eyes softened, he opened his mouth to protest but you shook your head. "Not tonight." His mouth closed. "You hear me?"

For a long moment he simply stared at you. Then, eventually, he nodded. The fight seemed to leave him all at once. Exhaustion settling into his bones.

You pulled the blanket over both of you. Fernando immediately curled closer. His head returns to your chest. Instinct or Habit, maybe both or maybe it was because you had always been home.

The last thing you heard before sleep finally claimed him was a small, broken whisper. "I’m sorry."

Your throat tightened. You pressed a kiss into his hair. The same way you had a hundred times before. Long before either of you knew how complicated things could become. "I know," you whispered.

⋆ Asficdiary:

⋆｡°Welcome to Kinktober ✩°｡⋆

↳ Hi, my love,

I want to welcome you to my first ever attempt at participating in Kinktober. Which for those that my not have ever hear of it, Kinktober is an annual challenge in which writers create works related to a kink for everyday of October.

As a long time fic reader, I have always wanted to participate in Kinktober as a writer, but never felt confident enough in my abilities to even attempt. However, if you know me and my account, you will know that aside from the odd one shot here and there, I am writing a teammates to friends with benefits to lovers story called THE DRIVERS SEAT.

As such, I need to hone in my smut writing abilities and I thought what better way than through Kinktober. So hopefully for the next thirty-one days I will be posting smutty one shots at (hopefully)7AM SAST every single day. With full transparency, I've never complete a writing challenge in my life. But I'm hoping to change that this month.

With lots of love,

- Lia

⋆｡° Kinktober '25 Masterlist ✩°｡⋆

↳ All Kinktober works in one place

✩ WEEK ONE ✩

↳ 01: SEXTING || MV1 || [One Attachment]

Sexting is the act of sending sexual text messages. It often involves sending nude, seminude, or suggestive photos

↳ 02: MIRROR SEX || FA14 || Our Reflections

Katoptronophilia, refers to the fetish/kink where individuals derive sexual pleasure and/or arousal from mirrors or reflective surfaces. This can involve watching oneself or a partner in a mirror during sexual activity.

↳ 03: SKINNY DIPPING || FA14 || Barely Seen

Semi-public sex refers to sexual activity occurring in a location that is not entirely private but also not fully exposed to the general public.

↳ 04: MORNING SEX || OP81 || Morning Haze

Consensual non-consent involves people agreeing beforehand to engage in sexual or power-exchange play that simulates non-consent

↳ 05: THIGH RIDING || MV1 || Thigh-high

Thigh riding involves one partner grinding or straddling the other’s thigh for sexual stimulation, often using friction and closeness to build pleasure.

↳ 06: COWGIRL || FA14 || Hat Rule

Cowgirl refers to the sexual position where one partner is on top, facing the other, allowing them to control the rhythm, angle, and pace of penetration.

↳ 07: PHONE SEX || FA14 || Hot Line

Phone sex and mutual masturbation involve partners pleasuring themselves while describing or showing it to each other, often through calls, video, or text, creating intimacy and arousal from a distance.

✩ WEEK TWO ✩

↳ 08: Shower Sex || GR63 || Favourite Prize

Shower sex involves partners engaging in intimate and sexual contact while in the shower, often combining the sensations of warm water, soap, and steam with touch and closeness

↳ 09: Mutual Masturbation || MV1 || Mutual Attraction

Mutual Masturbation refers to partners pleasuring themselves in each other’s presence, creating intimacy through shared vulnerability, visual stimulation, and emotional connection rather than direct touch

↳ 10: Strip tease || FA14 || Celebration

Strip teasing is a form of erotic play where one partner slowly and deliberately removes their clothing to tease, excite, and hold the attention of the other.

↳ 11: One Night Stand || FA14 || Fallout

Loss of control is when desire, emotion, or tension overwhelm your ability to stay composed. It’s the moment restraint gives way to instinct, passion, or need, and you surrender completely.

↳ 12: Public Sex || Daniel Riccardo || Parking Lot

Public sex refers to engaging in sexual activity in a place where there’s a chance of being seen by others. It is arousal heightened by the danger of discovery and the intoxicating tension between being hidden and seen.

↳ 13: Car Sex || MV1 || Casual, right?

Car sex involves intimacy in the confined, private-yet-public space of a vehicle. It’s a mix of heat and restriction turning the ordinary into something electric, secret, and dangerously spontaneous.

↳ 14: Sex on top F1 car || FA14 || Mi corazón

Sex on top of an F1 car fuses desire with danger, it’s indulgence in its most forbidden form, passion meeting machinery, power meeting flesh.

✩ WEEK THREE ✩

↳ 15: One Night Stand || FA14 || Backpackers

A one-night stand is a fleeting encounter between two strangers for a moment of raw connection without the weight of tomorrow. It’s intimacy without promise.

↳ 16: Virginity Kink || IH6 || First Time

The Virginity kink centres around the erotic tension of firsts and the thrill of discovery.

↳ 17: Hate Sex || MV1 || Not Brocedes

Hate sex is when anger and desire tangle so tightly you can’t tell them apart. It’s sharp, breathless, and burning; a collision of grudges and need, where every kiss feels like defiance and every touch dares the other to feel something more.

↳ 18: Authority Kink || FA14 || Professor Alonso

An authority kink revolves around power and control. It thrives on structure, tension, and trust, where command becomes desire and submission becomes surrender.

↳ 19: Breeding Kink || FA 14 || Drunk Confessions

A breeding kink relies on the primal urge of creation, aka the fantasy of being filled or filling, of claiming and being claimed. It’s less about reproduction itself and more about the raw, animal heat of wanting to be wanted that

↳ 20: Desperation Sex || GB5 || Huntinf Cabin

Desperation sex is need stripped bare. It’s urgent, breathless, and a little reckless. It’s when restraint shatters under the weight of longing, when hands shake and lips crash because waiting isn’t an option.

↳ 21: Marking Kink || MV1 || Not Just Casual? Pt2

A marking kink is about leaving proof of passion; bruises, bites, scratches, or lipstick smudges that whisper mine long after the moment ends. It’s the thrill of being claimed or claiming in return, of turning touch into evidence, and skin into memory.

✩ WEEK FOUR ✩

↳ 22: Strawberry Fields|| FA14 ||Chocolate Covered Strawberries.

An aphrodisiac usage kink revolves around the erotic thrill of heightened desire by using substances, scents, or foods to intensify arousal and pleasure. It’s about teasing the senses to the point where every touch, taste, or smell feels sharper, hotter, more irresistible.

↳ 23: Food Play || FA14 || Pistachio Ice-cream

Food play is the delicious intersection of taste and touch by using edible items like pistachio ice-cream to tease, arouse, and explore the body. It’s playful, messy, and sensual, turning eating into foreplay and the act of indulgence into a shared, intimate experience.

↳ 24: Comfort Sex || CS55 ||Shoulder to cry

Comfort sex is intimacy as reassurance. It’s about closeness over intensity, gentle touch over passion, and using warmth, connection, and vulnerability to soothe, reassure, and remind each other that you’re safe, wanted, and not alone.

↳ 25: Rough Sex || MV1 || Weren't Brocedes Pt2

Rough sex is raw, intense, and unrestrained. It thrives on forceful touch, dominance, and primal energy, where aggression and desire mingle to create an electrifying, sometimes chaotic intimacy that leaves both bodies and minds buzzing.

↳ 26: Choking || FA14 || Trouble

Choking, or breath play, is a kink centered on control and vulnerability. Through light pressure on the neck or throat to heighten arousal, intensify sensations, and blur the line between trust and surrender.

↳ 27: Blood Kink || FA14 || Couples Costume

A blood kink revolves around the erotic fascination with blood, through its sight, taste, or symbolic power. It can play on danger, vulnerability, and intensity, blending pain and pleasure, taboo and trust, to create a heightened, visceral arousal.

↳ 28: Voyeurism || SP11 || Favourite Star

Voyeurism is the arousal derived from watching others engage in sexual activity, often without participating directly. It’s the thrill of secrecy and experiencing desire from the edge while staying unseen, where curiosity and fantasy collide.

✩ WEEK FIVE ✩

↳ COMING SOON

The invite had said dress casual, you were just at a house party after all. But the black dress you’d worn for the occasion felt too plain against the bright colours and skin tight clothes the other patrons had worn. It’s not like you were insecure, but you weren’t who you once were. Your eyes had dark rings around them that even your make-up couldn't hide and you didn’t dance to every song like you used to. 

You had walked into the kitchen to refill your drink, but instead as you approached the doorway, you heard the whispers. All words full of spite and pity. “I only invited her in hopes she’d bring that ex f1 driver with her. He lives in the city afterall” the birthday girl had said to her friends. They laughed as if it were the most hilarious thing in the world. It had turned mean then commenting on every inch of you, saying they wished they aged better than you had. It hurt, of course it did. 

So you did what anyone would do, you walked to the front door, put your coat on to brave the new york autumn, and disappeared.

The air outside the apartment was cold. You looked around in hopes of a taxi but nearing 1am, they were probably closer to the clubs then they would be on the edge of the city. You pulled your phone from your purse opening the uber app. You entered the address and were met with a pop up that made you groan. “No rides available, that's just great” You said putting your phone back in your pocket. You considered walking back to your airbnb, but it was halfway across the city and you had passed a dodgy place on the way here that you didn’t trust going through alone.

You considered going back inside but the girl's laugh rang through your ears again. You sighed, swallowing your pride and phoning the one person the girls had hoped to see tonight. Daniel answered on the third ring. “Hey, little James. What can I do for you?” his voice was warm, but there was an edge of concern, like he’d sensed something was wrong before you even spoke.

“I don’t know if Scotty told you, but I’m in New York. There aren’t any taxis and Uber is not working. Is there a chance you can come get me?” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause on the other end, then a sharp inhale. “Where are you?”

You gave him the cross streets, keeping your eyes on the streetlights, trying not to shiver from the cold. “I’m on my way,I’ll be there in five,” he said immediately. No questions, just certainty. You let out a shaky breath, relief washing over you. You said thank you before the call ended. 

It wasn’t long after that an unfamiliar big Ford Truck had approached. The window rolled down and smiled, that smile that was always as sweet as sugar. “Your chariot awaits, mi lady” He said before leaning over and pushing the door open for you. You chuckled and smiled getting in. Once settled, he started to turn the car around, and you thanked him, giving him the address of the airbnb you were staying at. 

“You okay?” His voice was sharp, almost yelling across the space between you, though you could see the worry in his eyes. You hugged yourself, feeling small. 

“Yea, I’m good” You lied and you felt his eyes study you from the driver's seat. 

“I don’t really believe that” he whispered and you sighed. 

“It’s nothing really, just getting old you know” You muttered looking out the window. 

Daniel’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, his jaw set. “Don’t. Don’t brush it off like that. There’s more to the story”

You looked over at him briefly, catching the intensity in his eyes. “It’s fine. Really. Just… people being idiots at a party.”

 “I know you, and I can tell when you’re lying. And right now, you’re lying.”

You swallowed, feeling your chest tighten. There was no arguing with him when he looked at you like that. The streets blurred past as the city lights cast long shadows across his face.

Finally, you admitted in a whisper, “They… they were saying things. About me. Making me feel small. Ugly. Like I don’t belong.”

Daniel’s hand dropped to the gear shift, and he made a quick turn, the truck sliding into an empty parking lot. He killed the engine, and for a moment there was only the hum of the city around you.

He turned toward you, voice sharp but soft all at once. “Listen to me. Look at me,” he said, tilting your chin gently up. His thumbs traced the edges of your cheekbones. “You are stunning. Always have been. Always will be. And anyone who tells you otherwise… They're idiots. And they don’t deserve to know how amazing you are.”

Your breath hitched. The vulnerability, the relief, the sudden surge of emotions. He leaned closer, his presence warming the chill between you. You blinked up at him, heart racing, confused by the intensity in his eyes. “Why… why do you care so much?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the city.

He scoffed, leaning back, running a hand through his hair. As if you asked the stupidest question on earth. “Because I’ve always cared,” he said, voice low, almost desperate. “Since we were kids. You’re… you’re important to me. More than anyone else has ever been.”

You swallowed, your chest tightening. “But… I’m not… I’m not special. I’m just plain old me. Always have been”

“Stop that,” he said firmly, his gaze piercing. “You always put yourself down. You don’t see how incredible you are. You’re smart, beautiful, funny… everything. Why can’t you let that be the truth?”

You bit your lip, looking away, trying to steady the storm of emotions. “I don’t understand why you care?”

He said your name as if it pained him too. “You’re Scotty's sister” He said as if to remind himself.  “God, I shouldn’t do this” He said under his breath before looking at you. “I can’t stand the thought of anyone making you feel small. You are everything but.”

Your throat felt tight. “Danny, I don’t- what are you doing?”

“I wasn’t supposed to feel like this” he interrupted gently, but there was an edge of frustration, of honesty you couldn’t ignore. “But I do. I promised Scotty I’d never tell you. But I can’t hide it anymore.” You stared at him, breathless. The city lights flickered across his face, and for the first time, it felt like he wasn’t just being protective. He was being real, raw, and painfully vulnerable.

“You were there for me when I left F1, you were one of the first to message me. To tell me I had so much more to give. That F1 wasn’t the only thing that could bring me happiness. That my smile deserved to shine like lightning in a storm. That it could still light up the world. You still believed in me, when everyone was giving their condolences asking if it was over. You reminded me the story doesn’t end just because a chapter has. I think about that message daily, it’s been a beacon of hope. Just like you have been my entire life” He rants before letting out a sigh. 

“Scotty is gonna kill me” he says before lifting his hand to your cheek. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted. I knew it the first time we met, that day Scotty introduced us. But he’d kill me, but you know, I’m having to rebuild my life and there’s no one I’d rather have beside me. I like you, I have for the longest time.”

You stared at him, unable to speak. His words hung between you, thick and heavy in the still air of the parked truck. “Danny…” you whispered, the sound breaking halfway. “You can’t just say that.”

“I know,” he breathed out, running a hand through his hair again, his voice caught between frustration and relief. “But if I didn’t, I’d regret it. And I’ve done enough pretending.”

You shook your head slowly, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “You’re my brother’s best friend.”

He gave a quiet, bitter laugh. “Yeah. Trust me, I’m painfully aware.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, featherlight. “But every time I see you, it just gets harder to pretend I don’t feel this.”

You swallowed, trying to find words that wouldn’t come. You could feel your heart hammering, the truth of it settling in your chest like an ache. The silence stretched. “Danny…”

“I know,” he murmured again, his hand dropping back to the gearshift, as if grounding himself. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

You didn’t give him a chance for him to lose hope, instead you grab his head and pull him towards you. Your lips connect, and it's better than you had ever imagined. He froze for half a heartbeat, just long enough for you to feel the tension tremble through him, before he kissed you back. It wasn’t gentle. It was years of swallowed words, of looks that lingered too long, of everything neither of you was ever supposed to want.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, and he exhaled a low sound against your mouth, one that sent a shiver through you. The space between you vanished. His hand found your jaw, holding you there like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost desperate.

You smiled faintly, your thumb brushing the edge of his beard. “Maybe I do.”

He let out a shaky laugh that didn’t quite hide the storm in his eyes. “This is dangerous,” he murmured. “Scotty finds out…”

“Then we deal with it,” you interrupted softly. “But right now… it’s just us.”

He looked at you then, really looked, and something in him seemed to give. His hand slid down to your neck, his thumb tracing your pulse, and for a long, fragile moment, neither of you said a word. When your lips connected again, he was pulling you into his lap with such ease you questioned why you ever thought you were too much for someone. He pushed his chair all the way back and made sure you were comfortable, before he deepened the kiss, his hands finding their way under your dress to hold your ass. 

What once was soft became heated as you felt him grow beneath you. He was wearing shorts and a hoodie, something so him, it was infuriating. “Did I tell you yet how stunning you look in this dress?” He whispered in your ear and you smiled. 

“Careful, Riccardo.” You warned and he chuckled. He undid the button of the jersey you had on, before pushing it off you and into the passenger seat. You bucked against him and it earned a moan from him. His one hand moved from your ass across your hip and between your legs. He groaned as you gasped. 

“Fuck, so wet for me huh?” He said before pulling your panties to the side and circling your lips. You kissed him again and pushed against his hand. He chuckled. “Impatient are we?” He asked and you made a noise you weren’t sure you ever had before. It was a mix of want and need spun with a little bit of plea. He chuckled, lifting his hips and pulling his shorts down enough to pull his dick out. 

The colors of his tattoo on his thigh has you groaning. "Fuck, that tattoo, Danny" you hiss.

He chuckles. "No regrets, only memories. Just like tonight will be" He says before pushing against you.

“Feel what you do to me, baby?” He whispered and you nodded as you felt him line up with your entrance. “Use your words pretty girl, tell me what you want” He instructs and you take a deep breath.

“You….please…. I want you” You breathe. 

“Good girl” he praises before thrusting up, earning a pleasured moan from you. He fills you up completely and you tighten around him. He groans, kissing your neck. “Put on a show for me, beautiful” He whispers in your ear and you start moving against him. 

The windows were tinted. You knew that, had seen it. But god, you felt bare, like anyone could catch you. Like you were doing something reckless. It made you think of the time you’d both  stolen Scotty's car after a training session and gone to McDonalds for ice-cream. That was almost a decade ago, but the crush you had on him hadn’t ever gone away. You were both still those crazy kids. 

He hit the spot with every matched thrust and it had you shaking on him. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? All over my dick? Show me how much you’ve wanted this?” He asks his voice rough, his head thrown back in pleasure. 

“Yea” you replied, your voice gone. A few more thrusts had you gripping his shoulder and shaking, as you coated his lap in your sticky release. He wasn’t far behind, connecting your lips before pulling out at the last minute and spilling all over your stomach, the dark fabric a stark background for the white. You chuckled as you leaned in and kissed him again. You leaned your head on his shoulder catching your breath. 

A bright light shone into the car and you both froze. A security guard knocked on the window before his voice was heard. “Please leave before I have to phone the police.” He says and Daniel shouts a sorry before you both laugh. He helps you move back into the passenger seat. “Dangerous. That’s what you are," he says and you laugh. He kisses you again. “Let me get you back home and cleaned up, huh?” He says before fixing himself and turning the car back on. 

You nod before he intertwines your hand and kisses the knuckles, before putting the car in drive and pulling out the lot. 

your.username after years making content in the motorsport sector I achieved one of my biggest goals to date. Moving to Spain to follow the Euroformula Open Championship, I knew I wanted to visit the @/museoycircuitofa while in the country. What I never could have imagined is to be invited to do a walk through by @/fernandoalo_oficial himself. Keep an eye out for the video coming soon!!

User1: Been here since day one, so excited and proud of you!!

↳ your.username: forever grateful

User2: my two worlds colliding!!

your.bsf: SCREAMING!! If anyone deserves this, it's you.

↳ your.username: You're gonna make me cry, I love you

User3: So what are we calling this ship?

fernandoalo_oficial: It was a pleasure

↳liked by your.username

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FOUR MONTHS LATER:

Hola mi amor, Barcelona 🇪🇸🏎

On the ground covering the Spanish Grand Prix this weekend as a special guest dor @/DAZN. Incredibly blessed for this opportunity. To all of you who have helped me get here, thank you🤍

User1: THE SPANISH GP? SPECIAL GUEST OF DAZN? You really are booked and busy😭

User2: This is HUGE!! So proud of you!!

your.bsf: Out here living the dream we always wished for!! I'm crying

↳ your.username: pls stop, I'm already emotional😭

User3: I know fernando took that 2nd picture, I just can't prove it 😑

fernandoalo_oficial: Bienvenida a casa.

Hope you enjoy the weekend with us

↳ your.username: 💚

F1

Your front row lock-out for the 2025 Spanish Grand Prix 👏👏

Max Verstappen will start on pole with Fernando Alonso behind in 2nd, after a shocking qualifying result.

User1: THE ONE TIME I MISS QUALI!? FERNANDO!? HELLO!?

User2: OH FERNANDO ALONSO!! OH FERNANDO ALONSO!!

your.username: I'm scared to say a 33rd wins coming 😬

↳ fernandoalo_oficial: A deal is a deal

↳ your.username: I regret this

User3: What the hell?

User4: The WDC implications are insane

your.username: @/DAZN, thank you for the unforgettable weekend. You have made a dream come true!! @/fernandoalo_oficial I have never been so proud, the best way to spend a two year anniversary 🤍

Fernandoalo_oficial: Happy Anniversary❤️ (did we do the hard launch thing right?)

↳ your.username: ❤️❤️ (yes, you did well)

User1: TWO. YEARS. TWO. WHOLE. YEARS!?

User2: And here we were thinking they met 3 months ago? TWO YEARS??

User3: HOW DID THEY HIDE THIS FOR 2 YEARS.

User4: Suddenly the changes in background for videos makes sense.

your.bsf: @/fernandoalo_oficial, I deserve financial compensation for keeping my mouth shut about this for two years.

↳ fernandoalo_oficial: of course you do

↳ your.username: Is me being happy not enough compensation?