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#arthur young's car
fuckyeahgoodomens · 11 months
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pierregazly · 1 month
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every lifetime with you ꨄ oscar piastri
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oscar piastri x leclerc!f!reader
part 2 to but mama, i love him
warnings: charles is kind of ignorant (in a jerk big brother way), oscar is so disgustingly in love (aka tooth-rotting) [wc: 2.1k]
the one where oscar finally faces family dinner with the leclerc's... and it goes exactly how everyone expected. (oscar just really loves his girlfriend, and really doesn't care what her brother's say about it).
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Sunday night dinners, when everyone was able to attend, were a staple in the Leclerc family home. Even as a young girl, one thing you always remembered was Pascale ensuring everyone promised to be home in time for dinner on Sunday. And of course, no one wanted to disappoint Maman.  
Things had, of course, changed as Charles’ and Arthur’s involvement in motorsports grew, as Lorenzo became more involved in his own line of work. But you always put the effort in to make your way back to your childhood home, even if it was just Maman and yourself.  
When Oscar slowly started integrating himself into your life, Pascale was the first person to find out; interrogating you over Sunday night dinner, learning everything she could about the young Australian who had taken over her only daughter’s heart. She always encouraged you to invite him to Sunday dinner, insisting that the boys would be on their best behaviour, and there would be no blood or tears shed - from anyone.  
Which was exactly how you found yourself here, Oscar staring out at your childhood home, his hands steady with a tight grip on the steering wheel in front of him.  
“Maman would not be too happy if you brought the steering wheel in with you. She doesn’t enjoy car talk on Sunday’s, mon amour,” you said, tapping one of his tense hands with a finger.  
Unlacing his fingers from around the wheel, Oscar turned towards you with a timid smile.  
“You see Charles weekly; you practically grew up alongside Artie. It’ll be fine, Osc.” 
Shaking his head immediately, “I’m not concerned about your brothers. They don’t scare me.” 
Quirking an eyebrow at him, your only response was a shrug of your shoulders as you pulled yourself up and out of the car. Following your lead, the two of you walked up the driveway, passing your brother’s cars in the process. Pushing open the front door, you were instantly greeted by the variety of smells that could usually be contributed to Sunday dinner, the aroma invading your nostrils and prompting a smile to pull across your lips.  
Pascale Leclerc’s face greeted you the moment you turned the corner into the foyer, a happy grin across her lit up cheeks. 
“Oh, mon bébé! Regarde comme tu es belle,” she said, wrapping her arms around you tightly. (Oh, my baby! Look at how beautiful you are.) 
Eagerly wrapping your own arms around her, you inhaled her comforting scent, happy to be home and in the arms of the most important person in your life since birth.  
Turning towards Oscar, the large smile on Pascale’s face did not waver. “Oscar, hello! It is so lovely to finally meet you.” 
The moment of hesitation on Oscar’s part meant Pascale had already wrapped her arms around him before he could even blink, pressing a kiss to each cheek and then pulling back with a smile.  
“Lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Leclerc. Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” Oscar said.  
Pascale waved him off, loud voices filtering into the foyer as the three Leclerc boys made their presence known. 
“Regarde ce que le chat traînait,” Arthur said, his eyes pinning onto Oscar’s frame. (Look what the cat dragged in). 
“Non, we will not be speaking French tonight. You know the rules. Do not be rude, Arthur,” Pascale admonished, sending a glare to her youngest son.  
“What do the English say? Execution by fire? Best way for Oscar to learn, non?” Charles said, looking towards his brothers for confirmation. 
Snorting at his words, “No, you idiot. It’s baptism by fire. Don’t be a jerk, Cha.”  
His eyes swiveled over to meet yours, a mock glare present on his face. “Oh, I’m so sorry. My apologies, perhaps if I’d be able to speak French, I’d be able to use the actual sayings.”  
Pascale’s glare whipped towards her middle son, her hand gently tapping on Oscar’s shoulder as she directed him towards the dining room.  
“Charles Marc Hervé, I’d encourage you to watch your tone. Your ignorance is not appreciated, I’m sure your sister has already begun teaching Oscar French, you of all people should know it is not easy to learn a new language as a young man. Do not be rude.”  
Almost immediately, the scolding evidently struck a chord in Charles, his cheeks brightening as he mumbled out an apology.  
“Certaines choses ne changent jamais, hm, Charles?” you whispered in his direction, sticking your tongue out at him. (Some things never change, hm, Charles?) 
“Ma petite fleur, don’t antagonize your brother.” Sticking his tongue back out at you in response, Charles skirted away as you moved your hand to smack his shoulder. 
The table had been set like all previous Sundays before that, the only difference being the extra setup beside you, cutlery and plates laid out for the Australian’s benefit.  
“Is there anything I can help with, Mrs. Leclerc?” Oscar said, ignoring Arthur as he silently imitated him, a grin falling onto your brother’s cheeks as he plopped down in his unofficial seat. 
“Just Pascale, s’il vous plaît. And non, Alexandra and Charlotte kindly helped with everything already. You are too kind to offer, Oscar,” she responded, a large smile overtaking her lips.  
“You are too kind to offer, Oscar.” 
“Don’t be rude, Artie. Maman can still take you out of this world, right, Maman?”  
Nodding her head in agreement, Pascale whacked the man in question over the head with a tea towel. Placing the final dish of food on the table, the matriarch of the Leclerc family gestured for everyone to sit, all remaining members of the room taking their seats.  
The usual pre-dinner rituals were conducted, Oscar politely engaging in all of them to the best of his ability.  
As the chatter began to pick up around the table, you could feel your anxiety spike every time your eyes wandered over to one of your brothers. For the fact two of them had driven alongside your brother more than once, all three eyed him up every opportunity they could. 
“So, shall we discuss the elephant in the room?” 
“Is it the toxic smell of your cologne, Cha? I’ve been wanting to talk about it for years,” you quipped.  
Lorenzo stifled a snort at your words, shoving a spoonful of food into his mouth as he eyed the both of you.  
“Shut up, you know what I mean. Oscar, what are your intentions? Is this some secret McLaren sabotage thing?”  
You couldn’t tell if Charles was serious, your eyes widening as you scrambled for what to say in response. 
“Not everything’s about racing, mate. I could care less about McLaren or Ferrari or whatever, when I’m with your sister. There’s more to life, evidently,” shrugging at his own words, Oscar continued to shovel food into his mouth. 
You could barely contain the internal swooning at his words, your hand gently squeezing Oscar’s thigh as you smiled at him in response. Lightly squeezing your hand back, both of you looked up at the sound of a groan from across the table.  
“This is going to make me throw up, truly. Maman, please let me speak French to articulate how disgusted I am at this,” Arthur mockingly gagged, his eyes pleading for his mother to accept his request. 
Pascale ignored her youngest son’s dramatics, turning her head in Oscar’s direction instead. 
“Oscar, dear… I’ve heard the story of how you and my daughter began dating from her view, I must hear it from yours as well. It’s such a lovely story,” Pascale practically cooed, prompting instant eye rolls from all her children sitting around the table. 
“Yes, Oscar. Tell us all how you corrupted our sister. Please.” 
The urge to hit both Arthur and Charles grew with every little quip and comment they felt necessary to make. Before you even had the opportunity to retaliate, you saw Charles wince, his head swiveling towards his girlfriend in dismay.  
“Enough, mon amour. Tonight is not about you,” she said, a smile being directed towards you after the fact.  
The Australian beside you cleared his throat before he began, gently squeezing your knee in the process.  
“I’m sure she tells it far better than I do, but I can give it a whirl. Racing with Arthur for so long, I think we knew of each other but didn’t really… know each other? Obviously, we had run into each other at different racing events throughout the years and exchanged polite small talk, but it wasn’t really until the Monaco Grand Prix last year where we really had the opportunity to get to know each other.” 
Oscar was quick to shovel more food into his mouth before continuing his story. 
“I was trying to avoid all the interviewers and Sky Sports presenters on the Grid and ended up running right into her. All I knew is one second, I was running, next second I had barreled someone over and was holding their head from smacking against the concrete,” you could hear Alex and Charlotte cooing out soft ‘aw’s’ from their side of the table at his words. 
“Thank those quick driver reflexes, hm?” Arthur joked. Multiple heads around the table nodded in response. 
“I guess it sort of went from there. She, of course, had to give me a hard time for trying to ‘kill her’ as she so kindly says all the time. I offered to make it up to her... we ended up going for dinner after the race, and I suppose the rest is history. Thank God for Monaco, of course.” 
“Oh, so you’re the reason my sister didn’t attend family dinner after I got knocked down for supposedly impeding your teammate?” Charles quipped. 
Huffing towards your brother, before you even got the chance to snap at him, you were cut off. 
“Charles, shut up. We didn’t have family dinner after Monaco, you were miserable and I’m pretty sure you said some very nasty things to our family group chat which almost had Maman in tears. We didn’t have family dinner for weeks after that, so shut up, and let Oscar finish his story. Merde,” Lorenzo said, shooting a glare towards his youngest brother. 
Oscar looked towards you, silently questioning whether he should continue or not. Squeezing his knee in confirmation again, the Australian continued. 
“She ended up coming to visit me during summer break, and things became official from there. It’s been the best seven months of my life, I couldn’t imagine my life without that day in Monaco, now,” he looked towards you as he finished his story, a soft smile on his lips as you looked back at him adoringly. 
“I’d let you run me over in every lifetime, mon amour.” 
The two of you were caught in your own little world, your eyes locked on one another’s, small smiles gracing both of your lips. Missing the small look between your mother and brothers, Charles begrudgingly accepting defeat, Arthur eager to find some way to make a joke at the expense of both of you, Lorenzo simply content to see his baby sister happy.  
Maman, though... the sheer delight was evident in her eyes, a small sheen covering them and her lash line as she watched the two of you silently interact.  
The night continued, the honeymoon phase between you and Oscar so obvious, so prominent. He took advantage of any chance he could get to press a kiss to your head, to your head, to your cheeks, and especially to your lips. All respectfully, of course, but he couldn’t take his eyes or hands off you.  
Charles took his chance to corner the younger driver, threatening a world of hurt and sabotage if anything were to ever happen to you, physically or emotionally. Oscar’s nonchalant response of “Yes, alright mate. Whatever you say, of course,” further antagonized your brother.  
It was Maman’s acceptance that Oscar was most concerned about though, eagerly asking you once the two of you were back in his car, whether you thought she liked him. You were positive the answer was a resounding yes, especially after watching Pascale squeeze him tightly in a hug, pressing a kiss to each cheek again – and then proceeding to whisper in your ear how happy she was that you had found a man who loved you so incredibly much.  
Later that night, when both of you were curled up in bed, your legs intertwined, and your head pressed against his chest, his heart beating below your ear... you knew. There was no place you would rather be. No person you would rather be in love with or loved by. 
“In every lifetime, Osc, I want to be the person you’re in love with. Promise me that I will be?” 
“I already promised you every lifetime, mon amour. I will choose you, always.” 
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sorry but oscar is absolutely the one guy on the grid who loves his girlfriend so much and would probably actually die for her... so he's a total simp and would take on all three of the leclerc brother's for lerclerc!reader.
anyways i hope you guys loved this, as much as i loved writing it 🫶🏻
as always, my requests are currently closed but if you have any recommendations for things you'd like for me to write... i'm happy to take them on. please feel free to interact with me whenever you want also!!
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mickyschumacher · 7 months
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can i request something for carlos sainz x leclerc!reader on vacation?there’s such a soft spot in me for summer vacation carlos like in a beach setting or on a yacht. it can be soft or smutty it doesn’t matter i just love summery carlos. thank you!!!
𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐈 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: while the leclercs maybe spending their summer vacation at home, you opted for a secret vacation in santorini with your secret boyfriend, carlos sainz. or in which you are secretly dating your brother's teammate.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), reader dob in 1999, dating in secret trope!, sainz & leclerc = google translated spanish & french ._., ig the reader has a shaved downstairs?, p in v, teasing, oral sex, lovey dovey smut?, poor humour, breastplay, fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, scandal and swift references, love confessions.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x younger leclerc!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+
𝐀/𝐍: firm agree on the summery carlos! is it really my writing if i don't get santorini involved? anyways, hope this was up to your standards! sorry for the long wait! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Dating your brother's teammate was never on your bucket list. Hell, you tried to stay away from Formula 1. Well, as much as Leclerc could anyways.
People older than you weren't really your type. You opted for people near your age. That way there wasn't an awkward generation gap and there was no one that reminded you of your older brothers. Carlos was only five years older than you but the generational gap was most certainly there.
Men your age were... well, boys.
Men Carlos' age were men but also men.
You had seen Carlos at races before. And he was an attractive man, obviously. But that was that. You passed each other down the paddock, barely giving each other a glance. And not to mention the obvious, you were far too young for him at the time.
But then Ferrari's first car launch after signing Carlos had happened.
You had seen Carlos more in the few hours the event lasted than the past few years. You didn't know what it was. Whether you were unintentionally stalking him or vice versa. What you did know, however, he was definitely eyeing you.
By the time Charles had introduced you, Arthur, Lorenzo, and your mother, Carlos was trying to keep his interest at bay, pretending to be as family-friendly as possible.
Carlos ended up catching you as you came out of the bathroom, smoothly asking for your number. And as much as you wanted to give it to him, you weren't going to be easy. You were a Leclerc for crying out loud.
If Carlos wanted you, he would have to earn you.
And boy did he try.
You had heard from several people and the Internet that Carlos was a hardcore romantic. You never thought about it up until he started pulling out all the stops.
He was attentive as hell, remembering your favourite drinks, slipping you a new book to read as he talked to Charles, purposely linking his pinky with yours as discreetly as he could just so he could see you flush in front of him, sending you clothes for you to wear to his races to your apartment...
Carlos was menace.
But somewhere along the line, he became your menace.
You and Carlos were the epitome of the saying 'Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours'.
Keeping it secret... sure it was frustrating at times. The both of you had person after person trying to get with you because, well, you were a Leclerc and he was Carlos Sainz. Carlos had managed to draw a line by telling people he had a girlfriend but he didn't want to reveal her.
Yeah... it didn't settle well with the grid, in particular the three gossipers of the grid: Pierre, Lando, and your brother.
But after all the little bumps in the road, it was smooth sailing.
Most of the time you spent time together was alone, just the two of you. That way, there was no risk of being caught and you could revel in each other.
Of course, it wasn't that easy. Nothing was easy with you and Carlos, especially given that you couldn't keep your hands off of one another. Carlos a slight more than you because you had the decency and fear of embarrassment of getting caught by anyone. Carlos, on the other hand, was as indecent as they come. Hands always looking for an excuse to touch you, eyes travelling to find you first in any room, sending dirty texts when you sat across him... like you said, he was a menace.
To make things easier for yourself, for this summer break, you and Carlos had picked trusty Santorini as a romantic getaway, taking his dog Piñon as a welcomed third wheeler. Filled with so many tourists that you and Carlos would look like any regular couple there.
"Now this is a summer break," You breathed out, walking on to the yacht you had rented out for your stay in Greece. The air was clean and crisp, the sun was already beating down on you despite it being nine in the morning, and the translucent blue waters brought you a sense of familiarity that Monaco held.
"Don't you agree, Piñon?" You cooed to the soft ball of white curled up into your arms. A small bark of agreement came from the dog, tail wagging in happiness.
Carlos chuckled behind you, putting down your bags on the deck, under the shade. His thick arms enveloped your waist, bringing you closer to him. Nestling his chin into your shoulder, he said, "That's good, hermosa (beautiful). Now try saying it in Spanish."
You made a face at his teasing tone. Pulling yourself out of his grasp, you turned towards him. "Ahora son unas vacaciones de verano. ¿No estás de acuerdo, mi querido Carlos?" You recreated the same coaxing tone you had given Piñon to your lover, pinching his cheek with the energy of an overly endearing mother. Now this is a summer break. Don't you agree, my dear Carlos?
Carlos gave you a pointed look. You were teasing him. You knew he liked when you spoke Spanish because it was cute to see you fumble over the words but it also meant a lot to him that you were trying.
You rolled your eyes at his reaction and settled Piñon on the deck after making sure it wasn't too hot for those small paws of his. You watched him trot around the yacht, carefully examining his surrounding to test his boundaries.
Satisfied that Piñon was safe, you turned back to Carlos. "Brunch?"
"Brunch..." Carlos trailed off, hand reaching out to your face. The soft pad of his thumb graze your lips, gently pulling on your bottom lip to watch it bounce back. "...or brunch?" He asked, voice heavy with a clear need.
Your body thrived with an eagerness to respond to his touch. Goosebumps were the paint to the canvas of your skin, littering each part of you even though you were impossibly warm in the sun. You really wanted brunch. But your stomach wanted brunch. Instead, you simply nodded to him, agreeing with the answer he had never said. "You're right. Food is very important."
Carlos groaned at your response. "Hermosa," He sighed out, bringing his arms around your waist to pull you close yet again. "I want you," He murmured against your skin, nose brushing against your cheek and hot breath wandering down your neck.
Carlos could feel you smile at his words. "And you have me... for two whole weeks," You reminded him, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek.
Carlos curled his lip in annoyance at your reminder while he revelled in your touch. "I could have you for four," He also reminded you.
You sighed. You hadn't seen him in three weeks because life had it's mysterious ways of making the both of you busy. You wanted nothing more than a month with Carlos. But it was far too suspicious.
You had barely convinced your mother and your brothers that you were going to Santorini for a 'self-exploration' trip. Charles had immediately offered to turn it into a family trip but you managed to settle him down by saying you would spend the last two weeks with them. Alexandra had been a sweetheart in the matter as well. She was the only one, as well as Kika and Lily, that had known about you and Carlos, claiming they sensed it from 'a mile away'.
What they truly meant was that Carlos wouldn't stop eye-fucking you from a far.
"It's okay," You mumbled woefully, patting his chest softly, "I'll be with you in spirit while you reign Madrid."
Carlos held in his eye roll at your theatrics, you had a flair for them. "I wish you would reign Madrid with me instead. I want you to meet the family, let me finally teach you golf, go to the holiday house with me, hmm?" He implored, chocolate brown flickering to search yours.
The pain behind your eyes made him feel frustrated. He knew how much you wanted to do that because you wanted the same thing with your family. "How 'bout I call Charles, hmm? I'm sure he'll understand."
The thought of Charles finding out from anyone but you made you shudder. Would he understand? What was so understandable about hiding the fact you were dating his teammate for over a year, especially over a call?
Arthur, amongst Charles and Lorenzo, would probably be the most hurt. You and him told each other everything. You guys were the closest in age, similar to how Lorenzo and Charles were. Hell, you even helped him confess and get with Carla. And he was waiting to do the same for you, with some he trusted and knew.
And Lorenzo? It was really for the best if he didn't know from Carlos. He had initially told you not to get too close to any of the drivers because he was worried for you and well, the reputation of F1 drivers and dating wasn't too great. But you were quite sure that anything you and Carlos did had crossed the line of 'too close'. '
"Carlos, mi amor, I love you, but I think the idea of brunch, not brunch, is more understanding."
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After your brunch, you had spent some time reading to Carlos inside the yacht, not wanting to get into the water just after you had eaten nor wanting to go out when the sunshine was at it's peak.
It was serene.
The windows were open, letting a cool breeze come and help reduce the heat and you were both sprawled on the soft mattresses that served as sofas on the floor of the yacht. The calmness and peace you had desired amongst the chaos life and F1 brought.
You were half sure that Carlos was close to falling asleep in your lap, but not by your retelling of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, after Carlos refused to see Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen for the sixth time this year, but by the way your combed your hand through his hair as you read. (Although you were still going to be persistent because the concept of seeing those two on screen in Santorini out of all places was a need, not a want).
"Carlos, mon beau (my handsome), you're going to fall asleep. Let's go swimming," You told him, placing your bookmark in between the pages and closing the book.
Carlos groaned, looking up at you. He held your hand close to his chest. "No, it's way too hot. Don't you see the water? It looks like lava."
You narrowed your eyes. "That precisely why we should go swimming. We can't just sit here and mope around. We're in Santorini... we need to stand up and move around."
Carlos lifted his head from your lap, sitting straight so he faced you. You let out a quick yelp when he pulled you forward, placing you onto his lap, legs straddling him. "I can think about fifty ways to stand up and move around... in fifty different positions."
You could feel your thighs involuntarily clench around him. You know he felt it to. You gasped at his words and shook your head. "You are a heathen, Carlos Sainz. A barbarian... a hooligan, a sexually-driven simpleton must I continue?"
"Well, I recall you loving this heathen, infidel, barbarian, and hooligan," Carlos shrugged, warm hands inching up the white sundress you had worn this morning. The action sent a shudder down your spine.
"Carlos," You mumbled, already falling into a state where you were losing the words to speak your thoughts as Carlos kneaded the flesh of your thighs with his rough hands.
"Yes?" Those puppy brown eyes flickered to your eyes while he brought his mouth to your thighs, opting to graze your heated skin with the teeth. "Tell me what you want, hermosa. And I'll give it to you."
You faltered at his words. His gaze was heavy with a dark blaze that sent your stomach churning. You allowed yourself to fully straddle Carlos' lap, teeth sinking into your bottom lip when you felt Carlos' clothed bulge press into your core.
Carlos struggled to prevent a strained hiss escape his gritted teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening, your flesh escaping the confines of his hands. Fuck, were your thighs so enticing to Carlos. He wanted to bite them and bruise them so even weeks later, they were covered in the reminiscents of him.
"What do you want, baby? Please tell me," Carlos begged, eyes desperately searching your own for any sign or indication of what you wanted.
You felt your core clench at the plea falling from Carlos' plump lips. You hadn't even really done anything but he was ready to serve you. Everything was foggy. You couldn't think straight. "I want... I want you, Carlos. Fuck, anything, everything... I–make love to me. Show me how much you love me."
His roaming hands came to a halt. "Mierda (shit)," Carlos cursed, bringing his tongue to swipe his bottom lip.
He could do that. He would love you so much that the entirety of Santorini would know and no one would even question your relationship with him.
Carlos brought his hands to your back, feeling the numerous strings of your dress against the pads of his fingers. One hand worked to undo the very knots he had done this morning while the other creeped up the back of your neck, pulling your head closer to his.
He brought his lips to yours, pressing them with an indescribable urgency. Your hands shot out to his chest, fisting the soft material of the polo you had chosen for him into a small bundle.
You gasped into the kiss, feeling a sudden breeze of cold air as the strings of your dress fell flat against your skin. Carlos' hands wandered down the surface of your back, coming to a stop at your waist.
The urge to get even closer to you coursed through Carlos' veins, pulling you flush against him. A moan fell from his swollen lips as you parted to fill the craving of some oxygen. Your pussy was pressed tight against his cock and your breasts were soft, pushed against his chest.
Carlos ventured to move his lips down the side of your jaw, edging towards your barren neck, aching to decorate you with aging and unique shades of purple and blue.
You let out a series of sinful whimpers upon the feeling of your skin being sucked at, feeding directly into his constrained cock. "Carlos..." You moaned out, eyes shut in pure pleasure, "They'll know. The–They'll ask q-questions."
"I know." You shivered as you feel him grin against your skin.
You watched him through your half-lidded eyes, moving up from your neck to look at you with his blistering gaze. With one simple movement, he took off his shirt, revealing his taut golden skin. Christ.
You sat still breathlessly on his lap as Carlos peeled off your dress, pulling your arms through the white material. The cool breeze trickled over your bare breasts, nipples hardening almost instantly.
Carlos let a warm hand rest over your rib, lifting you gently to remove your dress fully. He sighed, laying you down on the mattress. The tips of his fingers travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, the hairs of your body standing straight at his touch.
"You know what it is a tragedy, hermosa?" Carlos queried, watching you quiver underneath him, chest heavily rising up and down.
He smiled at your asking through your eyes because the words just couldn't come out of your throat. "You will never see yourself the way I see you. Eres una sirena... obra de Dios. If He didn't put you on this Earth that would've been his biggest sin." You are a siren… God's work.
If your throat wasn't tied up before, it surely was now. You looked at him with a soft gaze, watching him come near you to press his lips on your own. You whimpered, feeling his hands travel towards your breasts, fondling your mounds with a cautious roughness that sent your stomach tingling.
You frowned at the loss of his lips but the complaint subsided upon the feel of his hot tongue swirling around your pebbled nipple. He paid attention to every flick and every crevice, keeping his deep eyes trained on you. He smiled at your hiss as he purposely grazed his teeth against your nipple.
Carlos removed his lips from your nipple, moving his head back to hover over your pussy. Still keeping his eyes on you, you watched in silence as the hot saliva fell from his lips, bubbly strings landing directly onto your glistening folds. Fucking hell.
"Eyes on me, baby," He told you, looking at your clenched eyes.
Your eyes shot open as Carlos took one long stripe of your folds, your hips bucking at the sudden sensation. Lingering a second too long on your clit, his tongue continued to work up towards your stomach and the valley of your breasts, returning his attention to your other nipple.
Your mouth fell open, feeling his fingers rub your wet folds, spreading his saliva around your pussy. While his tongue worked your nipple, he thrusted a thick finger into your walls. With your eyes rolling back, you attempted to fist the thick material of the mattress but to no avail.
"Fuckk, Carlos," You whimpered, writhing at his touch.
"Finally found your words, hmm?" Carlos teased, adding another finger into his torturous slow pace. His eyes were glued to watching your hips out of his periphery, snapping up to try and ride his fingers. As laboured breaths fell from your lips, he pushed his digits even further, aiming to reach a specific spot.
Smoothly, Carlos grabbed a nearby pillow, putting it under your lower back to bring you some comfort and a whole new level of pleasure. He stared at your face intently: your mouth had fallen wide open with a ghost whisper of his name flowing into the air, sweat glistened over your flushed face, pooling near the edges of your hair and neck, and your lips were swollen with the prettiest shade of red he had ever seen.
"Carlos," You managed to get out with your brain practically turning into jelly. "Carlos, please, I don't want to cum like this. I need your cock, please."
Carlos' cock throbbed at your pleas. "Your wish is my command, princesa."
Hearing your whines upon the loss of his fingers, Carlos took off his blue shorts faster than he had ever done in his life.
Even though you had been with Carlos sexually for a while, your cheeks still flamed when you saw his cock. Not out of embarrassment or unadulterated innocence. No. It was outright heat that was getting to you.
Every time you saw his cock, it was a violent shade of red, throbbing and aching, leaving Carlos begging to be touched by you.
You watched as Carlos leaned forward, hovering over you. It was beyond you how exactly pretty Carlos was. You hadn't realised until he started courting you. You had no idea how you were supposed to live without seeing his thicket of brown locks, his freckles that could only be depicted if you were close to him otherwise they blended with his prickly stubble, the smug smile he constantly wore to hide himself, and especially his big brown eyes that made you bend to his command.
"Carlos?" You softly called out.
Carlos' ears perked up at your gentle tone. He smiled down at you with raised brows. His hands continued to travel your body, retracing every curve and fold as he had committed to his memory. "Sí, mi hermosa?"
You ran a hand through his hair before caressing his cheek. God, he was your beautiful boy. "Je t'aime plus que tu ne peux l'imaginer." I love you more than you can imagine.
You knew he didn't speak French despite spending this many years with Charles but it often comes from you naturally when you were too caught up in your feelings.
"Je ne pense pas que ce soit le cas. You don't know how my every feeling is controlled by the look on your face. I can't breathe without you. Every race, I hope you're there waiting for me because you're pretending to wait for Charles. Hermosa, I exist for you. No one else." I don't think you do.
Your eyes widened, fresh tears lining your waterline. "You understood–you learned French?" You whispered, voice barely audible.
Carlos grinned. "I'm quite sure I said a lot of after that but yes, I did learn French for you... surprise!"
You suppressed the urge to push him off of you and gave him a long kiss. Pulling back, you laughed gently. "You're an idiot... making me cry during sex. And not even in the good way!" You feigned your complaint.
"Well, we still have tonight and thirteen more days. Today I'm just showing how much I love you," He whispered above your lips, hips lining up with yours.
You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling Carlos' cock brush past your folds. You both moaned in unison as he pushed his cock into your pussy. Your walls wrapped around his cock tightly, gripping him like a vice.
Carlos cursed several profanities under his breath, head lolling back while pleasure coursed through his body. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. His cock ached at the high-pitched mewl that fell from your swollen lips.
His hands fell to your hips, holding you tightly, slowly shifting you up and down his length, burying his cock in you.
You closed your eyes, letting your forehead rest on Carlos'. You can feel him staring at you, taking all of you in: every hue of your flushed state, your eyelashes riddled with tears and sweat, the heavenly and sinful sounds from your lips, and your greased hair.
"You are breathtaking," Carlos whispered against you.
You smiled, opening your eyes to meet his and rolling your hips slowly in response. "You make me feel so good," You praised.
A rough moan was elicited from Carlos, throat tight and choked up from your words and actions. He could barely function seeing your bare pussy take his cock so well, let alone how the tip of his cock throbbed when he lifted you up. His own eyes were beginning to shut as he revelled in the ecstasy you brought hip.
Fuck, you were so wet. You looked down at your thighs, seeing the obscene sheen of your arousal coat spread to Carlos' thighs. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, hips snapping to create a rhythm.
"Carlos, I, fuck," You blabbered in complete disarray. You were beginning to seem the edges of a familiar white light.
Although Carlos appreciated the sign, he could tell by the way you were clenched so tightly around his cock, getting his cock to pulsate every few seconds, that you were going to come.
He moved his hands between your legs, watching you sink over his cock one more time before he obstructed the view by using his thumb to rub your clit in circles.
"Mierda," Carlos cussed, feeling you grip his cock even further if it was possible. "Cum for me, mi amor."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You repeated the expletive as if it were a mantra, hips bucking as white clouded your vision. You let out a loud moan, body shaking as waves of your climax hit you one after the other.
Not a second later, Carlos was cumming too. His hips rutted against yours in almost an unrecognisable desperation, the peak of his ecstasy right within his grasp. His cock pulsed while his hips came to a falter, stuttering as ropes of his white cum spilled into you, warming your walls.
"F-Fuck," Carlos groaned, feeling your pussy clamp around him, trying to take every last drop of his cum.
You feel Carlos slump forward into you, exhausted. Gently, you lifted yourself off of his cock, wincing at your sensitivity. You fell straight onto the mattress, panting heavily.
"Shit!" You yelped as Carlos pushed some of his leaking come back into and circle your clit. You shook at the mini aftermath of your orgasm before calming back down.
"Satisfied?" You nudged Carlos playfully, knowing damn well Carlos liked to go the extra mile when it came to you.
"Very," Carlos commented, reaching his arms out to bring you closer to him.
You sighed, resting your head on his chest. The exhaustion was very quickly seeping into the both of you. Carlos' heartbeat was beginning to work as a lullaby and Carlos had found your warmth far more comforting than any mattress or duvet.
"Hermosa," He called, making you hum for you had no energy to speak. "We need to tell them."
You found yourself trying to open your eyes. When had they closed? You turned to face him, chin resting on his heated torso. You pressed a brief kiss and said, "I know. Let's tell them in a few days. So they have at least a week to yell at me."
Carlos frowned at your words. "I'll be right there with you. You know that right? I'm not letting you do this alone."
You smiled after letting out a small yawn. "I know, I know. I'm grateful. Thank you, mi amor."
Carlos returned the gesture, kissing your forehead gently. He rubbed your shoulders, feeling the dark abyss of slumber slowly call to him. "Anything for you, hermosa."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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Text
Sunshine
Synopsis: You are the youngest and only daughter of the Leclerc family, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, Charles can’t deny you’re his favorite
monegasque female leclerc reader x brother charles leclerc
A/N: let’s say that y/n was born in 2006, making her about 17 now, 15 years younnger younger than lorenzo, 9 years younger than charles, and 6 younger than arthur
. so
. pascale leclerc has always wanted a daughter
. a little girl she could love and spoil with all her heart
. don’t get me wrong, she loves her sons with all of her being
. but i’d be lying if i said she’s never wished for another girl in the house
. the rest of the leclercs know this
. so it wasn’t a big suprise when she told everyone that she was pregnant in 2005
. and nearly cried of happiness when she learned she was carrying a baby girl
. now at first
. 8 year old charles leclerc didn’t know how he felt about this
. because he already has 5 year old arthur following him around everywhere
. what would it be like with another sibling in the house?
. so he wasn’t entirely thrilled at first
. but the second pascale and herve brought you home from the hospital a few months later
. he knew he’d love you no matter what
. his friends at school constantly talk about how annoying their baby sisters are
. but charles is always more endeared with you rather than annoyed
. he would play and watch kid shows with you for days on end if that’s what you wanted
. would be lying if he said he’s never played pretend with you
. repeatedly asked for pascale to allow you to come to his karting races
. something that didn’t happen until you were 3
. shows you off to all of his friends at said races
. “you see that baby over there with my maman? that’s my sister, y/n”
. “she doesn’t really know what’s going on, but she always cheers for me anyway”
. charles makes sure he’s there for every milestone in your life
. first day of school
. the first time you drove a kart
. when you learned how to ride a bike
. etcetera
. it does get harder as the years go on, with his karting career continuing and everything
. but your brother makes sure he’s there for you
. because no matter how busy he gets
. he’s never too occupied to see you discover yourself
. finding your own personality and hobbies
. interests and dislikes
. this has all happened by the time you’re 9 years old
. nearing the end of your childhood but still enjoying it nonethless
. pascale even lets you follow charles to formula 1 races, because she knows he’s really following jules bianchi
. your older brother loves when you come with him to races
. but he wishes more than anything your mother made you stay home with her instead of going to suzuka with him
. because he knows you love jules
. he’s like another brother to you
. he’s always the one to have you sitting on top of his shoulders, doing anything to help you see more than the world you were given (both literally and figuratively)
. jules was the one who gave you his kart to practice with
. the one that taught you everything you know about cars
. the one that taught you to always dream for more
. the one that taught you what grief felt like
. charles remembers the moment it happened, the crash, the noise, the shock
. the way you looked up at him, your 9 year old self not old enough to realize what just happened
. “charlie, what happened? where’s jules?”
. he remembers how much you cried in the hospital, looking way too young to be sitting in those waiting room chairs and losing one of the people you loved the most
. he remembers hearing you sob in your room when you got home, how helpless he felt that he couldn’t do anything to stop his own emotions, nonetheless his baby sisters’
. he remembers how instead of driving the kart jules left you, most of the time you just sat in front of it, staring at it, wishing jules would come outside like he always would, and persuade pascale to let you two drive around for just a few more hours
. arthur was the one who looked out for you in these times, because charles was too busy either being looked after by lorenzo, or trying to drive his own feelings away in formula championships
. 2015 was a sorrowful year in the leclerc household
. so it makes sense that charles is happy when you start to show some progress in late 2016
. when you start to drive your kart again, improved by the JB17 stickers you start to put everywhere
. you start enjoying school again, hanging out with your friends and playing outside
. it almost gives him hope
. almost
. because by 2017, charles is nervous
. because herve is getting worse
. and charles knows his litter sister, you’re not stupid
. you can tell that your father is sick, and he’s not going to be get better
. he tries to subtly encourage you to spend more time with him
. makes sure you tell him all your stories from school, tell him what you want to be when you’re older and what you want to do
. soon enough though, you can’t do these things because your father was emitted into the hospital
. charles is nearly twenty now, he’s old enough for his mother to give him the truth about these sorts of things
. but still not old enough to tell his eleven year old sister the truth
. the whole family is there with herve in the hospital in june 2017
. none of them are ready to lose another one of their own again
. you’re sobbing, arthur’s arms wrapped around you and hand pushing your head into his neck because he know you shouldn’t have to see this
. lorenzo is the only thing keeping both his mother and first younger brother standing, all while trying to keep his own tears from blurring his vision
. this time, you don’t let anybody help you
. you never leave your room, only to go to school and to eat
. you stopped karting completely, not wanting to unless your father was standing on the front porch, cheering you on and giving advice from where he stood
. you don’t come to either arthur’s or charles’ races, not the one charles wins after herve dies, not the ones he continues to win after that
. the family almost forgets what your smile looks like, they only remember the faint sound of your cries at night
. charles beats himself up over it, feels guilty and helpless
. he couldn’t stop jules from crashing, couldn’t stop his father from getting sick, and can’t even protect his younger sister from losing herself
. he tries his hardest to be there for you, to hug you, tell you he loves you, and that he’s always there if you want to talk
. he waits as long as it takes for you to open up to him
. it comes eventually, the day you knock on his bedroom door and let yourself talk and cry in his arms
. it takes much longer for you to co-exist with your grief this time
. but charles is there for every step of the way
. you go to his first formula 1 race with him in 2018, cheer him on from the sauber garage with lorenzo and pascale no matter what position he comes in
. you hang out with arthur while he’s racing in formula e and formula 4, cheer for him just as loudly, if not louder than you would for charles
. you’re 12 by the time 2018 ends, but feel much older than you actually are
. this is the point where you and charles bond on a deeper level
. because whereas the rest of the world just sees you as a tweleve-year-old girl
. charles see you as a twelve-year-old girl who’s been through more than she should’ve, and now feels the emotions to match
. so as time continues to pass, you guys talk about the real stuff in your lives
. he talks about joining ferrari and what it feels like to do what jules had always wanted to
. what it felt like lying to your father about the ferrari contract and how he wonders what herve thinks about it now
. you talk about what it feels like going through life without a father
. what it feels like fearing for your brothers’ lives every time they get into their cars
. he tries to help you get over this fear by bringing you to the paddock with him
. which includes becoming friends with andrea after all the hours you two spend side by side in the ferrari garage
. meeting sebastian who instantly becomes a mentor to you
. you’ve known pierre for longer than you can remember, so you hang out in his team garage sometimes
. your brother tries to keep an eye on you while your in the paddock, but as you get older, the more freedom you have
. by the time you’re 15 in 2021, you roam around the paddock on your own free will
. with carlos joining ferrari, you hang out with his younger sister ana, who leads you on all sorts of adventures in whatever city you two are in that weekend
. meeting all sorts of celebrities while you’re walking down the pit lane on sundays
. spending time in the aston martin hospitality because you’re still close with seb
. passing time with lewis in the mercedes garage, he sheds some of his wisdom on you, you tell him all the drama in your life
. bothering pierre while simultaneously befriending yuki in the alpha tauri garage
. and of course, hanging out with charles in the rare moments when you both have nothing do to
. these are the antics that carry on throughout your late teenage years
. so by the time the end of 2023 rolls around, you’re close to graduating school and moving on to whatever you wish to pursue
. it’s in those moments, the ones where you’re talking about college and moving away and your career
. truly makes him realize that you’re growing up
. and you’re not the little girl that will always be there to cheer him on from the stands
. you assure him that you will though
. that wherever you end up, still in monaco or not
. you’ll always be rooting for him
. and he knows he’ll always be rooting for you too
. because you’re his little sister
. and he loves you more than you know
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hs-is-loml · 6 months
Text
You Know This. (cl16)
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Pairing: Charles Leclerc x best friend!Reader
Summary: moments of charles and reader throughout the years that show they are so obviously meant for each other so carlos gives them a small push. (they are basically together but without the title...)
Warnings: mentions of Jules and Hervé so little angst but the majority is fluff! one kiss? lando swears. cute couple moments of two idiots UNEDITED
a/n: almost forgot how to write compared to the social media AUs i've been doing... hope you enjoy :)
all translations of french below
Chérie = darling
masterlist
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19 years old
You stared out the window overlooking the streets of Baku until you heard a sigh from across the room.
“I’m so tired. Is it even worth going through this weekend?” Charles admitted as you looked over to him running his hands over his face while he took a seat on the edge of the hotel bed. “I don’t know if I’ll make it through.”
“No one will blame you if you don’t,” you said walking over to stand in front of him. 
“That’s what they all expect isn’t it?” 
“You’re doing more than enough just being here,” you brought your hands to his face and gently rubbed your thumb along his jaw. 
“I miss him, Y/n. How am I supposed to continue without him?” he whispered while he wrapped his arms around your frame and pulled you closer to lean his head against your stomach. 
You could tell that he had finally reached a breaking point from holding out on his own emotions as he helped everyone in the family with theirs. You knew that he was staying strong for Pascale and Arthur while Lorenzo was handling everything for Hervé’s funeral. When he asked you to accompany him for this race, you said yes without any doubts crossing your mind.   
You soon feel his shoulders shake as he lets out soft sobs. “You continue for him. Just like you have done for Jules, they’re going to watch your legacy grow together. One day you’ll be driving in that red car placing poles and winning races. You will make it through this,” you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you reassured him.
You were aware that he had told Hervé a few weeks ago that he had signed with Ferrari already. In the past few years, it had always been the goal. Everyone understood how crucial it was for him to make that come true.
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I know, but I believe in you. We all do. It’s only a matter of time.”
“What would I do without you?” he lifted up his head to look at you.
“Well, it’s a good thing I never plan on leaving you,” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of his head. 
"I'll never let you go."
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20 years old
You were talking with Andrea and Lorenzo near the Alfa Romeo motorhome while you all waited for Charles to finish with media day. “How do you think he’s doing with the news?” you anxiously looked around in the hope of seeing him heading your way. “The media has gone wild when the contact got out that he signed with Ferrari.”
“Probably basking in the attention,” Lorenzo laughed. “You know how long he’s waited for this.”
“That boy never fails to catch the camera either,” Andrea added while you covered your mouth with your hand trying to stifle your laugh when you realized that Charles was finally done for the day. 
Charles came to your side snaking an arm around your waist and teasingly poked you, “What are you three laughing about you?” 
“You,” all of you replied, causing him to gasp in fake annoyance. 
“I know ma chérie would never do such a thing,” he shook his head at the two men. “Enzo, look how bad of an influence you are.” Which was Andrea’s queue to quietly leave before he was targeted by the young driver too. He took Lorenzo along with him as the older brother gaped at the accusation. 
You both started to head to his driver’s room to gather his things before driving back to the hotel. “How was it?” you asked him while you took out his phone from your purse.
“A lot. It feels like it’s never ending and everyone keeps congratulating,” he smiled and reached out for the phone. 
“I’ve only heard of all the good things so far,” you tell him and hand the phone back to him. 
You had begun to look for your jacket, and it was almost as if he had read your mind, “It’s right here, I’ve got it.”
As you two walked out of the paddock, there were still crowds of fans and photographers lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the drivers. People started to whisper and squeal when they saw Charles place his hat on your head allowing you to shield your face from the now flashing cameras. 
“Who is she?”
“Aww, that’s so sweet!”
“They must be dating.” 
“Charles! Over here!”
“Can you sign this for me please!”
You listened to all the hollers from the crowd as you got into the car, “Wow.”
“You okay?” Charles softly asked and glanced at you before starting to drive back to the hotel.
“Were they always like that while you were in F2 and I’ve never noticed?” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 
“I’m not sure,” he chuckled at your reaction. 
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21 years old
“He has one more corner!” you held onto Andrea’s arm anxiously looking at the screen.
“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT HIM TODAY… CHARLES LECLERC HAS COPED BRILLIANTLY!” you heard from the speakers.
“HE’S GOT IT!” one of the crew members screamed when they saw Charles shoot down to the line.
“HE WINS IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA! CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2019 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX!” David Croft announced as Charles crossed the finish line. He had just won in Monza in front of the infamous Tifosi. 
You felt yourself get pushed to the front of the barrier as people started rushing to see the winner. The momentous scene couldn’t have been better. He had just ended the nine-year winless streak in Monza and scored his second consecutive race win. All you could hear in the hectic moment was the Ferrari crew chanting out in Italian for Charles. The crowds of fans roared out in cheers and the stands filled with raised Ferrari and Italian flags. 
You will never forget the moment he jumped down from on top of his car and made his way over to you. His hands found your sides as you held the sides of his helmet. “You did it,” your smile wide and eyes filled with tears as you focused on him. 
“For them,” he told you tenderly.
“For them,” you repeated and placed a kiss right where you thought the corner of his mouth would have been. The crew reached over to congratulate him, and the cameras were pointed directly at him wanting to capture the moment. 
The podium ceremony was scintillating. The crew, media, and Tifosi all packed in to see their winner. Andrea knew to keep you close to the front knowing that Charles would want to see you more than anyone else. It wasn’t only you looking up at him in admiration though it seemed like the world stopped for a moment when he blew a kiss back down to you from the podium.
Your cheeks flushed from the action and beamed as you met his eyes, “I love you,” you mouthed to him hoping he could read your lips from the stand. 
“I love you,” he replied back.  
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22 years old
With COVID delaying the F1 season and everyone having to quarantine. You and Charles had decided to move in together into his apartment to keep each other company. It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine for you two. 
“Y/n! Can you bring me water please?” you heard a yell from Charles’ gaming room.
You got up from the couch and set aside your book heading into the kitchen. Decided to bring him a small pack of crackers as well along with the water since he had been on stream for a while. You brought the plate to him which he thanked you for and gave your hand three small squeezes. 
The simple interaction caused the chat to make tons of new comments flow through regarding you. Over the past few years, you found yourself more comfortable with your life in front of the camera because of his career, and it makes you look back to the times of Charles’ first year in F1. You could now give a small wave to the camera before you planned to head back out to the door.
“That’s not fair,” you heard Lando complain from the screen, causing you to halt in your footsteps to listen closely. “You have Y/n to bring you stuff, and you don’t even need to stop the game.”
“Lando’s just jealous he doesn’t have anybody,” George snickered.
“Damn right, I am,” Lando huffed out. “I want a Y/n.”
Charles noticed you silently laughing and he motioned for you to come back over wanting to tease Lando a bit more. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer to be in the frame, “Too bad there’s only one of her.”
Lando started muttering about how it was not his fault that he was alone during these times all while you shook your head at their antics. Alex and George continued the jokes creating a newfound argument that moved the topic away from you and Charles. “What do you want for dinner?” you questioned him softly not wanting to disrupt the chaotic banter from the others.
“Will you make carbonara?”
“DID YOU HEAR THAT??” Lando pointed to the screen baffled. “SHE EVEN COOKS DINNER FOR HIM! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN? Y/N, WILL YOU COOK FOR ME NEXT TIME?”
“Sure, Lando. Once quarantine ends we can plan something out,” you replied with a sweet smile towards the camera.
“YES!” he cheered out at your response.
“Once we get back to racing, will you bring your cookies again?” George asked excitedly.
“Or the muffins!” Alex added on. 
“I’ll go and bring them if you bring Lily, Alex!” you answered them.
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24 years old
You told Charles earlier in the week telling him that you couldn’t make it to the Bahrain Grand Prix due to work. Really you just wanted to surprise him, and you had been in contact with Carlos planning it out.
“I think he is getting suspicious of me,” Carlos told you over the phone as you got your bags together waiting for Carlos’ cousin to come and get you from the airport.
“Well, I’ve only sent him short messages for the past few days and maybe ignored a couple of his calls because I can’t keep lying to him…” you explained which caused the man on the other side of the phone to snicker at your dispense. 
“I swear you want him to kill me, Y/n. Once he finds out.”
“Find out what? Who are you talking to all the time, mate?” you listened to Charles continuously question Carlos.
"No one!" Carlos quipped.
"Is that Y/n?" Charles asked him.
"No, it's my sister..."
“Good luck!” you hung up the call quickly and got into the car with Carlos Oñoro.
“Charles found out?” he started heading to the hotel that the Ferrari team was staying at. 
“Hopefully not yet, but Carlos was talking about how he’s on to him already.”
A notification went off on your phone and you saw it was a text message from Carlos.
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You opened your messages with Charles and came up with something quick to text him about.
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at the circuit 
“Hermosa! You made it!” Carlos exclaimed when he saw you walking towards the group of the drivers that just got out of the media pen. "I swear he was going to choke me earlier."
You laughed at his remark and went over to his side to whisper to him, “He doesn’t know I’m here yet, right?”
He tugged you a bit closer and kept his hand on your upper back. He spoke into your ear in a hushed tone while carefully looking around, “Not a clue, but you remember what I said over text? You say he’s not your boyfriend yet, so let’s mess with him just a little. It’ll prove something to you.”
“Prove what-” 
You were cut off by Lando as he finally took notice of your presence, “Y/n! Tell me you brought them!”
“Yes, Lando,” you smiled, taking a small packaged bag of cookies out of your bag before you could even hand them to him. He had snatched it and already begun opening the bag. “Yours are back at the hotel,” you told Carlos who was trying to take one from Lando.
“GIVE ME ONE!” George yelled at Lando who took his chance and ran off with his cookies. 
“NO!” causing George to chase after the Mclaren driver. 
Another group of drivers came over as they had just finished with their interviews. You saw Charles talking with Sebastian but he didn’t see you yet. “Sweetheart! A pleasant surprise, Charles was just talking about how you couldn’t make it,” Sebastian said with a smile as he walked past you with Fernando. 
“Hello, Sebastian,” you smiled back and felt a breath near your ear. 
“How long do you think it will take him to drag you away?” Carlos said in a low voice.
“He wouldn’t,” you mutter back.
“Oh, yes he would. Good luck with him,” Carlos grinned as Charles had stormed over to you two and grabbed a hold of your wrist.
“Charlie!” you yelped as you tried to keep up with his pace towards the Ferrari’s motorhome and into his driver’s room. 
He shut the door behind him, “So you can text Carlos but not me?”
"What are you talking about?" you acted confused."
"I know you were on call with Carlos earlier. But you couldn't even answer mine this morning?"
“It was supposed to be a surprise, Charles,” you huffed out.
“What a surprise that you and Carlos are together now?” he scoffed at the mere thought.
You began to laugh aloud which caused him to frustrate even further, “E-ex-cuse me?” you said through your laughter.
“This is not funny, Y/n.”
“Charles, it’s funny you think that I would even do anything with Carlos in the first place,” you pointed out to him while setting your bag down on a chair. 
You heard his footsteps come closer to you until you felt him press against your back, “Are you not?”
You turned around to face him and took his face in your hands, “Of course not.”
“Good,” he placed his hands on your waist rubbing up and down your sides.
“And why is that?” you raised your eyebrow at him.
“Y-you kno-o-ow b-b-because you’r-re…” he trailed off a stuttering mess caught off guard by your question.
You stroke his jaw with your thumbs and brought his face closer to yours, “Charles, I’m yours. You know this.”
He leaned down and closed the gap between your lips in a long-awaited kiss. He kissed you gently as if he were testing the waters. You smiled against his lips and moved to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your hips. You moved forward slightly to lean more into him and he let out a groan against your mouth. He stilled in the kiss, keeping your hips in place from moving further. 
“No more surprises, okay?" he said as you separated.
"Okay, but no more jumping to conclusions either."
"You are going to give me gray hairs early, Chérie," he exasperated.
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theemporium · 7 months
Note
What about 🧸 and Charles Leclerc ? Literally whatever you desire, maybe featuring his family or other drivers?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“I’m going to cry.”
“Charles—”
“Look at him, mon amour! He looks so cute!”
The Monaco Grand Prix was important for every driver due to its history and nostalgia, but it meant so much more to Charles. Ever since he was a child, he dreamed of racing on the streets he grew up on. He dreamed of being in a car, hearing crowds scream his name as he crossed the finish line. He dreamed of standing on the top step of the podium and holding the trophy in the air proudly at his home race. 
The Monaco Grand Prix meant everything to him, and it meant everything to him to have the people he cared about most there with him. He wouldn’t dream of racing without having his friends and family and biggest support systems by his side. It was what truly helped him and motivated him through the day. 
With you, that circle extended. And now, it extended once more when little Matteo Leclerc was born. 
It was Charles' dream to have a family. To meet the love of his life, to grow and live with her, to take that step into creating a lovely family together. And Charles knew you were the woman for him when he first met you. He had blurted as much in your face the first time he spoke to you. And now years later, to have the son you both created in his arms, it felt like a full circle moment. 
Yes, the Monaco Grand Prix was always important to Charles but this one was more important than the rest—this was the first time his son was coming to his race, to his own home race.
“I would not have dressed him up like this if I knew you’d get so emotional,” you teased your husband, watching as his eyes welled up as he gently cooed at the giggling boy in his arms. Mattheo was still young, just shy of turning one years old in a few weeks during the summer break.
“Oh hush,” Charles sniffled. “I would have cried anyways, regardless of what he was wearing.”
“So the Red Bull merch would have been too much?” You joked. 
Charles narrowed his eyes. “Don’t say bad words around my son,” he said with his chin held high before he turned to Mattheo, his face softening in seconds as the boy garbled and reached for his father’s face. “My son is a Ferrari fan, through and through.”
“Don’t disown him if you find him in the McLaren garage later,” Arthur piped up, walking towards the two of you with a mischievous grin on his face. “I heard Norris has baby merch waiting to change Matteo into.”
Charles’ hold became more protective of his son. “Over my dead body.”
You rolled your eyes, lightly hitting Arthur’s arm. “Stop messing with him.”
“But it’s so fun,” Arthur whined in response. 
You snorted. “It is.”
“Ah, ma vie, look at your mama and uncle teaming up on me,” Charles whispered loudly to his son, gently rocking him back and forth as the young boy stared up at his father with eager eyes. “It’s just you and me against the world.”
“Stop turning my son against me or I will let Lando change him into that horrendous orange merch,” you jokingly threatened, trying to bite back your own grin when you saw Charles grinning. 
“I’ll make it up to you later, mon amour,” Charles winked. 
“Aw, bleh! Not in front of my nephew!” Arthur fake gagged, which only seemed to make little Matteo burst into a fit of giggles. “Go get ready before you miss the start of the race! And give me my nephew before you scar the poor boy for life!”
It took ten minutes to convince Charles to let go of Matteo, his heart shattering a little when the young boy became frustrated and fussy after being parted from his father. But you kissed him on the lips, whispering good luck and telling him to return safely to his family on the other side of this race. 
And that was exactly what he did—and more. 
It didn’t even hit him until he was standing on the top step, the national anthem blaring through the speakers as his eyes glanced over the crowd below to find you and Matteo at the front of the crowd. He couldn’t really see you but he knew you were crying, he knew he was probably crying too. 
And little Matteo looked up at him from the crowd, cheering and clapping his hands once he spotted his father and Charles could’ve sworn his life had peaked. This was what he dreamed of long before he realised. To win his home race, to stand on the top step, to see his family waiting for him as he raised the trophy in the air and drowned in champagne sprays before rushing straight towards them.
“Mes amours,” Charles murmured, tears streaming down his face and a grin so wide that nothing would have wiped it off his face as he reached to hold you both.
“Our winner,” you responded, your free hand cupping his cheek to swipe away a few stray tears with your thumb.
“Dada!” Matteo cheered happily, causing both you and Charles to let out laughs of disbelief as your son uttered his first word. 
“Yes,” Charles laughed, nodding his head as he reached for his babbling son. “Me! Dada!” 
“Dada!” Matteo repeated, a gummy grin on his face as he squished his father’s cheeks together, and this time neither of you could stop the tears streaming down your face. 
This was the day Charles had always dreamed of and he had finally achieved it.
.
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
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Hey you were looking for a polyfic so here you go!
LanOscar or Lando x Max
(Idk if you write smut but the if you do you can encourparate it into this plot)
Plot: The reader becomes pregnant after a wild night (shall we say) and between the two boys they are convinced that it's their child. But when the baby is born it is one of the drivers from the ship above (I don't mind which one either driver of any ship is fine) and they are proud of it, and the other driver is slightly jealous that it isn't his. But he grows to love the child as the months pass and the reader says how the next child that is put in her is his.
I really don't know if this makes sense upon which I do apologise.
Hope your Well <3
Gonna do norstappen bc I got a landoscar one coming
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It was meant to be a threesome, a one night experience, not a throuple. But they worked together, so it was pretty hard to stay away
.
Whether it was lingering gazes and touches, or moments spent too long in each others presence without much explanation.
But this only lasted a few weeks, a month at most, before came the dreaded pregnancy test.
It was bought in a moment of anxiety. Her period was only late by a day and she had no other symptoms of pregnancy, but she was so worried that she ran to the store and bought one that afternoon.
She didn't tell the boys. Why should she when she's definitely not pregnant? But she wasn't definitely not pregnant.
The two lines stared back at her. Fuck, she really was pregnant. Holy fuck she was going to throw up.
As soon as she was done throwing up, she grabbed her phone and sent a picture of the pregnancy test to the groupchat she had with Max and Lando.
They rushed straight over. Thank god they all resided in Monaco. It was just one of the perks of being drivers, she supposed. Well, not that she'd be driving at the minute.
Her thoughts started spiralling down the path of who would be driving the Ferrari alongside Charles Leclerc in her place. She would have loved to see Arthur Leclerc drive alongside his brother, bit Ollie Bearman was an incredibly talented candidate, too.
It was only when Max and Lando knocked on her door that she snapped out of it. They wore grins on their faces as she pulled the door open. "So," Lando began, his boyish smile playing on his lips. "Who's is it?"
She rolled her eyes and let them into her apartment. "Does it matter?" She asked and Max shook his head, but Lando nodded.
Of course he did. There was nothing simple about Lando Norris. "Yeah, because whoever isn't the dad gets the next go, right?"
Her eyes went wide at that suggestion. "Jeez Lando, we haven't even had the first yet," she said as she sat on the sofa beside Max.
He instantly pulled her into his body and kissed the top of her head. "We'll be with you every step of the way," he said and she turned to kiss him properly.
And they were with her every step of the way. They were with her when she told her team principl and they were there when her absence was announced on social media (along with the announcement of the promising young F2 driver that would be her stand in). Of course, the media weren't told why she was missing the races for the year, just that it was medical.
They were there when her bump started to show, there to buy her maternity clothes. They were there for the late night cravings and for the emotional breakdowns over things she later thought to be insignificant.
They were there to set up a room for the baby, decorated with race cars, of course. "Project Hamilton," she had jokes as they painted a track onto the wall.
When the baby was born, they got a paternity test. Just to find out if the baby would be predisposed to any conditions of any kid. The only condition he was predisposed to was being part Dutch.
As soon as the results came that he was Max's son, Lando was pouty as all hell. He didn't want it to affect the way he loved this child, tried so hard not to let it, but he couldn't help it.
Max constantly reminded Lando that he was just his son, he was Lando's son, too. The four of them were one big family, didn't matter who was really the father.
It took some time, and some forced bonding from her and Max, but Lando came to love their son as if they were blood.
But he was still convinced it was his job to knock her up next. He was a man obsessed. As soon as he could he had her on the bed with her ankles in the air.
Max hadn't touched her pussy in weeks. He wasn't allowed to, not unless he wanted to get jumped by Lando.
But, sure enough, another positive pregnancy test sat on the bathroom sink. Lando Norris was a smug little shit, because this one was definitely his.
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countingstars-17 · 3 months
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charles_leclerc & arthur_leclerc: "a day we'll forever remember ❤️"
ARTHUR: "the first laps felt unreal. i would have never imagined that I would drive an f1 car. i'm so happy to do it as well with ferrari, which is my dream team since i'm young so yeah, a really special day."
CHARLES: "i remember very well the first time I got into an f1 car and it's just a very special emotion even more so with ferrari. You can see in his eyes how much it meant to him. but of course, for me, it's been extremely special as well. because i was on track and i saw a ferrari f1 car and then you tell yourself 'oh, this is my younger brother'"
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sebscore · 10 months
Note
Omg LL idea!!! Him bringing her up on the podium with him in his karting days🤭 He is in like the teenage “inchident” years, and he wins a race that LL attended with the family, and he beckons her over and onto it with him in her cute little summer dress, adorable!!
A DAY AT THE RACES
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pairing: leclerc family x leclerc!reader (+ gasly fam cameo)
warnings: toddler tantrum. crying. 
author's note: toddler leclerc is back!! huge shoutout to @champomiel for making me obsessed with a baby little leclerc :))) and also thank you to each person who send in a request regarding baby leclerc!! 
masterlist 
• • • • • • •
''When Charles drives by, you have to yell his name very loudly, okay?'' Pascale told the toddler in Lorenzo's arms, smiling as she saw her daughter respond enthusiastically. 
Her older brother nodded to their mother's words. ''Yeah, you have to scream ''Go Charles!'' so he can hear you.'' He added. 
The young girl nodded to their words, all her attention back on the track in front of them. It was her first time at Charles' karting race- or at least the first time she was consciously experiencing it. 
Y/N was still only a toddler so everything is still quite sensitive to her, like the loud sounds of the kart engines. Pascale had taken several ear-protective gear with her, hoping her youngest wouldn't throw a tantrum like Arthur and Charles used to do at the F1 races when they were her age. 
''There he is!'' Hervé exclaimed, grabbing his family's attention. ''Allez, Charles! Keep going! Come on, Charles!'' The man cheered his son on from behind the fences. 
The young teenagers cruise by in their karts, the place drowned in applause and noises from their family and friends as they pass the crowd. The sudden booming voices caused Y/N to get distracted and glance around her instead of screaming for her brother, who was running in first place. 
The toddler whimpered as she glanced back at the track and saw that all the small cars were gone. ''I missed Charlie.'' She sniffled, which rapidly turned into bawling. 
The Leclerc family's focus turned from Charles' P1 to the youngest's sobbing. ''What's wrong, bébé? Do your ears hurt?'' Pascale's impression was that the combination of the loud cheers and engines were too much for the little one's ears. 
Y/N frantically shook her head, making Lorenzo tighten his hold on her. ''I missed Charlie! I didn't say ''Go Charles'', Maman!'' She whined to her mother, calming Pascale's worries that her daughter wasn't in physical pain. 
''It's okay, it's okay! Don't worry about it, chérie.'' Hervé attempted to comfort her, endeared by the girl's concern for not cheering her older brother on. 
Her father's words didn't seem to have any effect on her and she kept crying her eyes out. She reached for the headphones on her head, trying to get them off her head- too much stimulation around her at the moment. 
''Wow! Be careful, you have to keep those on.'' Lorenzo gently scolded her, with Hervé stopping her and keeping the headphones on her head. 
''No! They're too heavy!'' Y/N continued whining, struggling to take them off. 
Pascale watched on, navigating on what she should do as her daughter carried on with her  adorable yet frustrating temper tantrum. ''Chérie, take her with you to the finish line.'' She instructed her husband, pointing to where the person with the chequered flag was waiting. 
Hervé nodded at her, releasing her from Lorenzo's arms. The small girl continued shedding tears, but nestled in her father's arms. ''We're gonna see Charles, okay?'' He asked her, smiling down at her as he walked away from their family members. 
Y/N timidly shook her head up and down, loudly sniffing her stuffy nose. ''Is Cha gonna be angry at me, Papa?'' 
Her father frowned at her question. ''Why would he be angry with you, bébé?'' 
''Because I didn't yell for him, and Lolo and Maman told me to yell for him when he passed us.'' In her mind, her older brother would be upset that she didn't cheer him on. 
The man chuckled, the innocence of his daughter's explanation warming his heart. ''Charles is not angry with you. He knows you're his biggest supporter! We're gonna wait for him at the finish line so you can be the first one to give him a hug.'' Her father told her. 
His assurance that her brother wasn't cross with her, making her stop crying and let out a small smile on her lips. ''Did he win?'' 
''He is currently in first place and Pierre is right behind him so we'll see when he finishes the race.'' Hervé responded to her, giving the side of her head a kiss. 
The pair arrived at the busy part of the track, somehow making it to the front of the fence so they could watch Charles take the chequered flag. ''Make sure you keep your headphones on, bébé- we don't want your ears to hurt.'' He adjusted the gear on her head. 
''Okay, Papa.'' Y/N politely answered, not having a problem with the headphones anymore. ''When does Charles stop driving?'' She asked him, not seeming to have much patience. 
''A few more laps around the track and he's done.'' They had only brought her to the side of the track towards the end of the race, her parents knowing she would otherwise be sleeping through the whole thing and be upset that she missed it. 
The sounds of the engines became slowly louder and louder, indicating the drivers were passing by again. ''He's coming again, Y/N- make sure to yell for him.'' Her father signalled to her. 
This time, the toddler only held her focus on the track, screaming her brother's name as soon as he came into her sight. Hervé and the people around them laughed at the little girl's small voice, finding it adorable as she was the only one screaming for a few seconds. 
''Go, Charles!'' Y/N and her father chorused, cheering on Charles who was still in first position. She rested her face in his neck, having grown shy by her own yelling. 
A few laps later, her brother was the first one to cross the finish line and win the race, with Pierre coming in second behind him. 
Y/N started fussing in her father's arms, wanting to go to Charles and give him a hug. Hervé chuckled at her excitement, but told her to wait until he got out of his kart, and took off his helmet. Pierre's father, Jean-Jacques, joined them, pinching the little girl's cheeks and giving Hervé a handshake. ''Good race.'' He concluded, giving them a nod. 
''A nice battle between them today.'' Hervé confirmed, satisfied with the results and the performances of the two young boys. 
The toddler tugged on his shirt. ''Papa, can I go to Charles now?'' She whined, not a fan of how long it seemed to be taking. 
The two men chuckled at her impatience. Her father glanced at his son and saw that Charles had already climbed out of his kart, and was in the process of removing the helmet off his head. 
''Charles!'' Hervé called for the young boy, waving his free arm at him. The winner of the day spotted his father and sister, his smile becoming wider at the sight of his family. 
Charles tapped Pierre's arm, pointing to his own father. The two boys made their way over still in full adrenaline from the race and their podium finishes. Once they were close enough, Hervé put his daughter down and gave her a light push towards them. 
Y/N jumped over to her brother, her arms already spread. Charles got the message and took a big extra step, embracing his sister and easily picking her up. ''Cha, I yelled for you! Did you hear me?'' She asked him, her arms firmly around him. 
''Yeah, you were very loud!'' He replied, pretending that he had heard her through all the noise even though he hadn't. 
''You were super fast! You went like zoom~'' The little girl imitated the sound of the karts, making both Charles and Pierre laugh. 
''We are supposed to go zoom~'' The French boy impersonated her. 
''Good job, boys! Nicely done, Charles!'' Hervé praised them as they made their way back to where they had been waiting. The rest of their families had also found them and gathered together. 
Charles put his sister down so he could give everyone a hug of his own. After Pascale embraced her son and gave him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek, she motioned for Y/N to come to her. ''You gave your brother a hug?'' She said to her daughter as she lifted the girl up. 
''Yes, I was the first one.'' She proudly told her mother, hugging her neck. 
Pascale grinned, relieved her husband was able to calm the girl down. ''Wow! The first one? That's great, chérie.'' 
A tap on Pascale's leg brought her attention from her daughter to her youngest son. ''Maman, can I have ice-cream now?'' Arthur asked her, a pout present on his face. 
''I want ice-cream too!'' Y/N exclaimed upon hearing her brother's question. 
The woman put her daughter down, next to Arthur. ''We're going to eat with Pierre's family after the boys get their trophies. You can get ice-cream as dessert.'' She explained to them. 
''But I want it now!'' Arthur continued. 
''You're gonna have to wait, Tutur.'' Lorenzo told his little brother, chuckling at his impatience. 
The young man noticed the Gasly family, his father and Charles moving to where the trophy ceremony would take place. He glanced at his little siblings. ''Cha is getting his trophy, come on!'' 
Arthur listened to his older brother's words and grabbed his sister's small hand, guiding her to the podium as they walked next to Pascale and Lorenzo. The mother and son duo swooned at the sight of Arthur acting like an older sibling to the young girl. 
''Why do you walk so slow, Y/N? You have to go faster.'' The boy complained, having to reduce his speed so his sister could catch up. 
Lorenzo chuckled. ''She has small legs, Tutur! Go at her pace.'' He reminded his little brother. 
''That's not my fault.'' Arthur answered, matter-of-factly. He kept walking at his pace, ignoring his sister practically running to stay next to him. 
''Thur!'' Lorenzo stopped him, grabbing his shoulders. The older one then focused on the toddler and picked her up, not wanting her to grow tired from simply walking. ''Alright, let's go.'' 
The podium ceremony wasn't something too extravagant. They called out the names of the top three and handed the winners their trophies, often with some flowers as well. 
As the families waited for the presentations to start, Charles grabbed his dad's attention. ''What is it, Cha?'' He asked his son. 
''Can I bring Y/N with me on the podium?'' 
Charles had done it countless times when Arthur was younger and he had seen many other winners bring their siblings up on the podium with them- he wanted to include his little sister somehow. 
Hervé smiled, touched by his son's sentiment. ''That's okay with me, but ask your mother to be sure.'' He knew Pascale wouldn't have a problem with it, but he didn't want to surprise his wife with Charles suddenly taking their daughter with him. 
Upon hearing his father's answer, Charles walked over to his mother. ''Maman,'' he tapped her waist, having her bow down to be on the same level as him, ''can I bring Y/N with me on the podium? Papa says it's okay.'' 
Pascale glanced at her daughter for a few seconds, checking if she still had energy left. ''Of course, but be careful, okay? She's small.'' She agreed, nodding at Hervé who was looking at them. 
''Thank you.'' Charles thanked her, skipping back to his father. 
The mother of the family approached her oldest and youngest child, gently grabbing his shoulder. ''Ma petite, Cha wants to take you on the podium with him. Isn't that fun?'' 
The youngest's mouth made an o-shape, bewildered by the news. ''Really? Wow!'' 
''Yes! So let's put you down.'' Lorenzo kneeled, letting his little sister stand on her own two feet. As soon as she was stable on the ground, she ran off to Charles. 
''Cha Cha!'' Y/N exclaimed, catching her brother's attention. ''I'm going on podium with you.'' 
''I know! Just follow me, okay? I'll help you.'' He told her, not wanting her to get distracted and do something she shouldn't do. 
''Okay!'' She gave her brother a thumbs up with a bright smile. 
It didn't take long for the various ceremonies to start, but the Leclerc Family had to wait until the end since Charles participated in the oldest age category at the competition. 
''In second place, we have Pierre Gasly of France! Well done, Pierre!'' The presenter said into the microphone, inviting the French boy onto the podium. 
The family clapped for him as he strutted over to the second step, accepting the trophy and flowers he was handed. 
''And our winner of the day is Charles Leclerc of Monaco! Congratulations, Charles!'' 
The race winner grabbed his sister's hand, and unlike Arthur, walked on her pace to the podium so she wouldn't have to run next to him. He momentarily let go of her hand as the presenter handed over his trophy and flowers. Charles gave the trophy to Y/N, being less heavy than the bouquet of flowers. 
Charles stepped onto the top step with ease, meanwhile his baby sister struggled with her small legs to even get onto the third step. 
Pierre immediately noticed. He placed his trophy and flowers on the ground, and signalled to the girl to walk over to him. He picked her up and placed her next to Charles, who thanked his friend for helping his sister out. 
The Monégasque crouched down. ''Y/N, look at Maman.'' Charles pointed at their mother, who had a big smile on her face as she held her camera. Upon seeing Pascale smile, Little Leclerc mirrored her mother's expression- proud of the trophy she was holding, despite it being her brother's. 
The rest of the family watched on fondly, the sight of the small girl swooning everyone. ''She's going to steal that trophy from his room.'' Lorenzo told Hervé, chuckling at the way his baby sibling was holding onto the plastic prize. 
''Charles will let her.'' The patriarch grinned, knowing his son would take the trophy away from her. 
After a few minutes of posing for pictures, the ceremony was done and they made their way back to their families. 
''Pierre, you are a gentleman.'' Pascale complimented the young boy, ruffling his hair. 
He shyly glanced down at the praise. ''No problem.'' Pierre brushed off, his mother pinching his reddened cheek. 
The giddy toddler jumped in Lorenzo's arms, still a strong hold on Charles's trophy. ''Look what Cha gave me, Lolo.'' She showed the prize off to her brother. 
''Wow! You have a trophy? How cool!'' Lorenzo told her, excitedly. 
''Can we get ice-cream now, please?'' Arthur whined, having everyone look at the young boy. There was an adorable, impatient tone to his voice, making both families smile at him. 
The parents all glanced at one another, nodding in silent agreement that they should start packing up, and go have dinner. 
''I'm going to get 5 scoops!'' Arthur declared. 
''I'm going to get 6 then!'' His sister one-upped him, mischief written all over her face. 
''Y/N gets 2. Arthur gets 3, and Charles and Pierre will get to choose since they got a podium together.'' Hervé stated, chuckling at his two youngest's disappointed faces. 
The little girl huffed. ''But Papa, I want 6!'' 
''You're like 6 scoops tall, how are you gonna eat all of that?'' 
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adventuringblind · 10 months
Text
Defensive Maneuvers
Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader
Genre: fluffy with a pinch of angst
Request: yes! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Requests are open for Max, Charles, Oscar, and lando. Don't hesitate to send me ideas!
Summary: The normally soft-spoken leclerc sister becomes the out spoken girl her family knows. What triggers this change? Max Verstappen and his ridiculous father.
Warnings: Jos being Jos, mentions of verbal abuse, mention of physical abuse if you squint, *best Daniel Riccardo voice* nooooot prooooofreaaaad
Notes: written in third person . I am neither the youngest nor have brothers, so I tried my best to get an accurate relationship depiction. Ironically, I'm the oldest with sisters.
Masterlist
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The Leclerc sister is known by her brothers as the baby of the family. Even Arthur, who is only older by mere minutes, holds it over her head that she is the youngest.
The constant teasing from her siblings made her learn how to use her quick wit. Verbal comebacks becoming her specialty at a young age. Because of her ability to be polite in public, no one suspects what she is truly capable of.
Her brothers tease her regardless but she lets them. Her sharp tongue making them regret not holding theirs.
Pierre had made this mistake once. Mainly under the influence of Charles convincing him to say something at her expense. The verbal lashing he received in response had him apologizing profusely. Charles doubling over in laughter as her practically lectured his friend. Needless to say, Pierre has yet to make this mistake again.
Charles was by far her favorite sibling. Lorenzo had a habit of bossing her around and Arthur shared a room with her. She loved all her brothers, but felt the most connected to Charles. She followed him around like a lost puppy some days. Ready to cheer him on at every Karting race.
This was where she first encountered Max.
After the race, she went to go congratulate Charles for a race well done. He was third but all the Leclerc’s were proud nonetheless. On the way over to him, she saw Max. He was at majority of the races Charles was at. The two had never talked formally, but they were aware of the others existence.
Something about the situation she was witnessing didn’t felt right. Max was standing with his dad, his knuckles turning white from gripping his second place trophy so tightly.
As she walked by, she almost fell over at hearing how his father was treating him. The slander leaving his mouth over his son placing second almost made her tear up. She was only nine at the time, but even she knew whatever was happening was wrong.
So she steeled herself, took a deep breath, and entered into the conversation. She walked up and tapped Max’s shoulder. He jumped at the feeling, not having seen you coming.
“Hello Max, Charles is busy with family but wanted to congratulate you.” She smiled warmly at the Dutch boy. Obviously taken off guard.
Jos turned to her, also not knowing how to handle this. “Not much to congratulate,” he sneered. The young Leclerc narrows her eyes at him. Not realizing how brash the older man is.
“What do you mean, Mr. Verstappen? There is plenty to congratulate.” She questions back, her tone mildly snarky. Obviously having no intention of backing down. The older man didn’t even bothering responding to her. He turns on his heels and walks away. Yelling back to Max “I’ll be in the car.”
Max looks between the girl who he’d never spoken too and his father. Unsure of what he should do in this situation. Thankfully the girl notices this. “Sorry for stepping in. He sounded unreasonably upset.” She apologized with a huff.
“Thanks actually- for what you did.” Max stutters out. No one had ever taken the time to defend him.it was an unusual feeling. He knows he can’t stay long though. “I should go. I’ll see you around- I guess.” Then he runs off. Waving as he goes.
She had told her mother about it. The older woman explaining what was probably happening at home. It made her sad for the Dutch boy. Having to hear that it happens more often then just races.
This was only the first encounter with Max. The Leclerc sister made it a point to find Max after every race and praise for a job well done. Much to his fathers dismay. She knew she couldn’t stop what was happening, but maybe her words would help ease some of the hurt.
The girls mother occasionally helped out with her quest. Walking with her daughter to find the Dutch and congratulate him.
It became a routine. One that Max was starting to enjoy. The seeking out now being reciprocated. The two even finding time to converse about things aside from racing.
Max’s father had started to become increasingly more annoyed at this fact. Pulling Max away from you. Spitting vulgar words at a child that wasn’t even his own.
Pascals had made a note that if she was directly insulting to Mr. Verstappen, it might make things harder for Max. She still made her snarky remarks and threw insults at the older man, but only loud enough to make Max chuckle.
Her brothers eventually caught on. Charles and Arthur saying nice things to Max in passing. Charles was more strained, but was trying nonetheless.
The brothers began teasing her relentlessly as they grew up. Her fondness for Max only growing. Her quick tongue seemed to falter when they brought up Max. She held a soft spot for him, as he did for her.
When Max and Charles were in formula 2, she was incredibly proud of both of them. She divided her time equally between the two boys. Still always making sure to sing Max’s praises loud enough for everyone to hear.
Originally she though Max’s father would cool down and maybe start to see how talented he is, but she was mistaken. The older man somehow seemed to get more competitive.
It was increasingly easier to talk to each other now since the two both have phones. She comforted over video calls as he ranted about something stupid his father said to him. He listens to her talk about her fathers battle with illness. The two became inseparable. Being the reason for each others smiles on most occasions.
Then formula 1 came. Charles driving for Ferrari and Max for Redbull. The youngest Leclerc baskets in both boy finally making it. Years of hard work paying off.
Max no longer lived at home. Having moved to an apartment in Monaco. This meaning the two could spend more time together. The, now young woman, takes pride in that fact she convinced him to move closer to her.
She’d become more outspoken recently. Opening defending both her brothers and Max. Most people knew not to say anything if she was within earshot.
The year is now 2021 and Max and Lewis are both fighting hard for the championship title. Max was visible upset at the end the race. Second place wasn’t enough if Lewis is going to keep winning.
The young woman immediately trying to find him after the podium celebration. She had seen the look in his fathers eyes and is now frantically trying to beat him to Max. Charles and Arthur found her in a frenzy. Confused because she is usually calm, her sarcastic remarks and opinions given so level that you’d think it was rehearsed.
“I need to find Max.” She explained, panting from running around the paddock. They decided three sets of eyes would be better then one and split off in different direction.
She was so caught up in her search for Max that she hadn’t noticed her phone buzzing in her pocket.
A text from Charles reading: In the back of the Redbull garage. It doesn’t look good.
She took off running spotting snarled waiting for her outside. She could hear the commotion from Jos.
“I was going to try and break it up but they won’t let me in.” Charles gestures to the wall of Redbull engineers. She however, wasn’t going to let them stop her from getting to Max. She shoved her way through with determination and surprising strength. Immediately settling herself between the two Dutch men.
Jos had turned his anger towards her now. His finger getting dangerously close to her face. “You are part of the problem.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “The only problem currently is you.”
“My son has been distracted because of you. His hopes for a title this year not getting any better because of you.” He spits. She can feel his breath on her face.
“Personally, I think Max is a good racer because he wants to be. Not because of you or me helping or distracting.” She lets a smirk form on her lips. “Your just angry because your finally running out of things to berate him about. Hard to be angry when Max is better then you.”
Jos’ face had turned red. She could feel Max’s anxiety increasing from behind her.
Then everything happened in slow motion. She hadn’t noticed Jos’ hand raised above her. Charles moved faster then anyone. Shoving Jos to the side, his hand not getting to connect with anything but the nearest wall.
He was raging now. Thrashing like a child who didn’t get their way. Pierre and Charles who had somehow managed their way inside kept a firm grip on him as Christian ran to get security.
The Youngest Leclerc. The one who spent her days defending Max in secret, keeping the haters at bay never letting Max go a day without know he is loved. Finally she turned around and stared deeply into his eyes. Blue irises glasses over from tears he’d been holding back.
She embraces him warmly. His face buried into the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” She apologized softly.
Max pulled away and gives her a confused look. “On the contrary, I think you were right on time.”
Security had come and grabbed Jos to escort him out of the paddock. Charles and Pierre now finding then tension between the two heating up. The two boys giggling. “I swear if you two don’t kiss or something I will no play nice with Max.” Charles laughed.
She didn’t care about the teasing. Just taking time to comfort Max. The two still conjoined in a loose hold.
Max leans his forehead against hers. “You know I’ve loved you for awhile right?” He smiles.
“You would be stupid to not.” She remarks. Max shaking his head at the remark. “But I have to agree with Charles on this one.”
Max doesn’t hesitate any longer. Placing his lips on hers. Pulling her as close to him as he can. He then pulls away, his lips still close to hers and voice barely a whisper.
“Thank you, for protecting me all these years.”
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wutheringcaterpillar · 2 months
Text
Who’s the Other Girl?
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Summary: Tommy is having an affair with you in the states but what happens when you are face to face with his wife, Lizzie.
Warnings: Infidelity, talks of divorce, women standing up for other women.
I bet you're from out West somewhere
Hazel eyes and dark brown hair
And everything you wear fits you just right
I bet you drink martinis dry
And never let him see you cry
I bet you're more promiscuous than I
I bet your bold, 
I bet that’s why you seem to occupy his mind
I bet you’re smart
But do you know about me?
“You were just in the states last week, tell me again why can’t Arthur go and get this woman if she’s so needed here?” Tommy huffed as he finished lacing his shoes, snagging the cigarette from between his lips, looking up at Lizzy with a stare of annoyance as if he hadn’t explained several times before.
This was now the fifth week in a row that Tommy had met with Y/N due to “business”, Lizzie was already calling the bluff on that after a photo of the two of you together had been posted in the paper.
Rumors had already circled the Garrison that Thomas was involved with another woman and he had refused to make any comments regarding the accusations. 
Standing up he disposed of his cigarette, noticing the upset in his wife’s eyes. 
“Hey c’mere.” She allowed him to pull her near and dear into a hug but somehow even with his arms wrapped around her, he felt tremendously far away, straying further each time he’d come home.
“I’ll be back before you know it alright? Tell the children I love them.” Placing a kiss on her forehead, Lizzie tilted her chin up, hoping for more but all she received was Tommy walking out the door, leaving her bottom lip quivering, hands shaking with anxiety, knowing all too well how the story goes.
Going to the window, she watched him get into the car, glancing at his watch while Ruby’s footsteps hurriedly ran across the room, tugging at her mothers skirt. “Mommy, mommy! Where’s daddy going?” She looked down at their child, trying to come up with an answer suitable for a child.
“He’ll be back soon honey. Your father works hard to ensure our safety, and he loves us very much. He’ll be back soon.” Picking the child up, holding her closely to her heart she watched her husband leave, nothing but hopelessness filling her heart.
The fire was lit dimly in the living room as she settled with a cup of tea, trying to avoid picking up the paper but curiosity and the need to know getting the best of her.
Finishing off the tea, with shaking hands she looked at the headlines, her heart aching at how beautiful Y/N was. The picture was her and Tommy seated at a bar, far too closely to be just friends. Her legs were crossed like a lady but Tommy’s hand lay on her thigh, other arm wrapped behind her while she was smiling brightly, blushing like a girl in love.
She looked beautiful, attractive, young, strong, all the traits Lizzie didn’t feel she had anymore. A sudden, simple realization in the photo was almost too much to bare for her weeping heart when she realized Tommy’s wedding ring was no longer on his finger.
The question lingered in the air, did you even know about her, has Tommy told you he was married and if so why engage. Then again Lizzie was aware how convincing and manipulating her husband was. After all from the photo, you did strike her as smart but that didn’t take away from the younger facial features. If she had to guess you were in your mid twenties, and she was well aware how simple it was for men to deceive young women, especially when they were in love for the very first time.
Attempting to put her mindset in yours, she ganderd into Tommy’s office, opening multiple drawers and rummaging through scattered papers until she found the document of the deal.
Surely a young woman like yourself didn’t know how Tommy Shelby operated and to always read the fine print.
Skimming through the contract, she noticed your signature was not at the bottom yet which she believed to be rather odd, but maybe that was why he was bringing you back here. Why not just take it with him though?
All of the endless questions became answered with a simple sentence written in smaller, italicized text at the very bottom of the paper. Almost too small for even Lizzie to read.
“Termination of ownership shall commence after signature is received. Ownership of business transferred solely to receiving partner Thomas Shelby along with any additional funds requested.”
He was going to leave her with nothing. Absolutely nothing, high and dry. Lizzie knew very well what it was like to have nothing and try to find her way through life living off of the scraps of men. Searching the paper once more she found your address in the states, contacting one of Tommy’s assistants insisting that he get a letter to Y/N before it was too late on the behalf of Tommy. Simply stating he had forgotten to take an important paper. Maybe after all the wrongs she had committed in her life, this one good thing would act as a repetence.
Are you the one he's talkin' to
When he gets up and leaves the room
And comes back with a distance in his eyes?
Maybe I should be the one to leave
But damn, when he starts lovin' me
He makes me think I'm all that's on his mind
The knock on the door startled you from your reading. Glancing at the clock, a wide grinned expression spread across your face, knowing fully well who was at the other side of the door.
You’d been aware he was married but after some time of convincing, Tommy had ensured you he’d be leaving Lizzie and there was nothing to be ashamed of, nor feel guilt about. You had never met Lizzie, only heard about his wife through passerby’s conversations.
With the door opening, his piercing blue eyes enchanted your every being, reeling you in, never allowing you to take a second to think. It was like he put a spell on you. “I’ve missed you darling. We’re set to leave around four, surely plenty of time to…” He brushed his warm hand down your cheek sweetly, those ocean eyes scanning your body with such precision and crave. 
Jumping up into his arms, your legs wrapped around him as he kicked the door shut behind him, walking you into the bedroom as your lips collided together in a profound, lustful sensation.
As clothes were shed and he towered over you in the bed, your legs spread once more for this handsome, intimidating man.
He peppered poetic kisses down your neck, leaving marks on your shoulder blades as he thrusted momentously through your sweet succulency, fucking you in a way no other man could.
Impatience, and pure desire washing over you every time you saw his nude, muscular body, you thrusted down with him in harmonious rhythm, stemming your blooming rose with his cock. His eyes never once left yours, your fingers intertwining together as he released his seed into the tight, tunnel of love between your thighs.
When he excused himself to the restroom, out of the corner of your eye the wedding ring sitting atop the bedside table caught your attention. 
Was he really going to leave her? Are the children aware? What were you getting yourself into?
Hearing the toilet flush, the phone rang along with it, and it wasn’t long until you heard Tommy’s voice. Talking as if he were somewhere else, still closing the deal with you.
“We’ll be leaving soon….I invited her to dinner….it’s just business….alright see you soon.”
Just business? Is that all you were? Saddening, you rolled out of bed to retreive your clothes as if that would mask the betrayal and pain bubbling in your heart.
This exchange was supposed to be more than business, maybe not at first but you had grown up with nothing and Tommy was the only willing to invest in the idea of your, and the amount of money he invested was more than enough and made you feel like your ideas weren’t of nonsense or daydreams. One thing turned into another and once that pub opened after a tremendous amount of indecent flirting, you found yourself bent over the bar and Tommy making endless visits to your hometown, spending nights tangled between the sheets of your bed, him spoiling you with surprises and gifts. But what was it all for?
His heavy footsteps entering the room pulled you away from the questions.
Right away he could tell you were upset when your teary, pained eyes connected with his.
“Is that all I am to you is business?” He scoffed, approaching the clear understanding that you’d overheard the phone call and just like that with the flip of a switch his lips curled into a soft, endearing smile while his ocean eyes bore over you sincerely.
“Of course not. I’m trying to let her down easy Y/N. After we finish business, the loose ends will tie together and things will be settled. Alright?” Why did you believe this man who had promised you nothing? Why did his voice have to sound suave and convincing? Your mind was telling you one thing while your heart told you another.
Is it me? Is it you?
Tell me who
Who's the other girl?
Who's the first? Who's the fool?
Who's the diamond? Who's the pearl?
Are you mad? Me too
And I wonder in his world
Is it me? Is it you?
Who's the other girl?
You stop to collect the post, realizing there was a letter addressed to you from Birmingham, surely it wasn’t Tommy considering he was in front of you.
Guilt, and shamefulness flooded your veins while your heart felt like it was waiting to explode in your throat. Contemplating on throwing the letter in the trash, you thought better and slipped the envelope into the clutch Tommy had bought you weeks beforehand.
Stopping along the way to put petrol in the car, you excused yourself to the restroom while Tommy went inside to pay the employee, grabbing a pack of smokes as he did so.
Locking the door and fumbling frantically, you ripped open the letter, not knowing what to expect but it was quite clear who wrote this.
             “Y/N. My name is Lizzie Shelby, 
I’ve presumed you’re aware of me. I’m writing this letter to inform you there is no hatred in my heart toward you. I’ve been in your position of the other woman. There’s no need to tell Thomas as we will meet soon. Don’t allow your heart to stop you from seeing the manipulation. I must speak with you when you arrive, please don’t take this as jealousy but coming from a woman who has been at the other hand.”
What did this mean? How did she know about you? Surely Tommy wouldn’t tell his wife about his mistress.
A sudden knock on the door reeled your mind away from the letter.
“You alright in there?” Checking yourself in the mirror and shoving the letter in the pocket of your purse, you opened the door, attempting to appear unpanicked and at ease.
“Yeah, just was washing my face, let’s go.”
Who's gonna put on the red dress
Scarlet letter on her chest
Can't love with this on her conscience
Tell me who's the other girl
I bet you're cool, I bet that's why
You seem to occupy his time
I bet by now
You know about me
And you know about me
Walking into the dining room, you were taken aback by just how much money Tommy had. The shimmering chandelier, the golden authentic tablecloth, the peruvian curtains, the fine china. Amidst your shock, Lizzie strutted into the room from the kitchen, cradling Ruby gently in her arms while Charlie was running circles around the house. Your eyes locking in a surprised, yet insecure expression while the question, the elephant in the room sat quaintly up in the air. Who did Tommy’s heart really belong to?
Strutting behind you, Tommy lay his hand gentleman like on your back, offering you a drink in the process.
“Y/N this is my lovely wife Lizzie. Very wise she is, and my two children Ruby and Charlie. Dinner is almost ready, sha’ll we sit?” You smiled kindly, ready to take your seat before Lizzie interrupted. Clearing her throat as Tommy pulled your seat out before her own.
“Actually, Y/N do you mind if I speak with you for a moment? I just have a million questions about the states, I’ve always wanted to go.” Tommy peered in her direction, slightly agitated but nodded that it was alright. Lizzie handed Ruby to Tommy, escorting you two rooms away into the living area.
She was poise, collected, much taller than yourself but never did you get the impression she was a threat, even though you considered the situation rather uncomfortable and off.
“I assume you’ve read my letter.” She spoke in a hushed tone, but with a kind hearted smile, insisting you take a seat across from her.
Nodding, a cat felt like it had a hold of your tongue, not knowing exactly how to respond or act.
Reading you like a book, she could tell you were quite nervous and maybe the best way possible to approach this was to come straight to the point head on.
Reaching for her purse, you couldn’t help but notice it was the same one Tommy had surprised you with but a different color. That’s odd.
Pulling out the contract, she allowed it to sit on the glass table in between you for a brief moment.
The hand writing you recognized right off the bat to be Thomas’s with the perfect cursive letters, simply reminding you off all the letters he had mailed to you when he was in Birmingham.
Shrugging off your confusion, you straightened your back, pretending as if you held confidence.
“Y/N is it?” Nodding, she carried on, glancing into the corridor, ensuring her husband wasn’t on his way in here.
When she spoke her voice was gentle, speaking with kind concern, and a soft tone.
“I remember when I was your age. So young and in love, willing to do anything just for another moment with a man. I assume this is you first-“
“How long have you known about me?” You interjected, anxiety and curiosity rising in your throat. She was beautiful, quite breathtaking and the children were so innocent and completely unaware of their father’s infidelity. Why would he do this to such a magnificent woman, whom carried his child. Guilt was eating away at your stomach.
“I’ve had my inklings for quite some time now. Probably back in November. How about you?”
“Mrs. Shelby I don’t mean any disrespect but the plan here tonight um-“ You itched at the back of your neck nervoulsy, the guilt and truth eating you alive.
“His plans you mean. I feel it my duty to inform you to read the fine print before you sign your business over to him.” Before you could respond Lizzie excused herself, not wanting to take longer than she already was without Tommy gaining suspicion.
Reading over the night quickly, you were in shock and disbelief, realizing Lizzie was the one telling the truth. Fighting back tears, you set the paper back down, wiping your teary eyes.
“Y/N, dinner’s prepared. We have your place set.” 
Who's the first? Who's the fool? 
Who's the diamond? Who's the pearl?
Are you mad? Me too 
And I wonder in his world
Is it me?  Is it you? 
Who's the other girl?
“I suppose this dinner conversation is about the contract you’ve left mistakenly on the table. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Lizzie shifted in her seat as you took a deep perforated breath, thinking wisely before speaking. The atmosphere in the room came to a still, eyes wandering from one another in guilt and shame.
“This can’t be real. I-I thought we had a future together, we had a plan.” Your voice cracked, sadness washing over your aching heart while Lizzie looked confused from the other side of the table.
“I-I’m sorry what?” Settling his napkin over his thigh and sighing, he took a drink of his wine, clearing his throat.
“Did you think I would leave my family for you? My children?” Lizzie was stunned by the revelation that Tommy told you he was leaving her. Was she really just a pawn all along?
“Where does your heart truly belong Tommy?” Her eyes spoke with vindication, and impatience for her dying marriage. 
Tommy stood from his seat, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, allowing the cold stream of alcohol to stream down his throat, reminiscing the moment before lighting a cigarette.
“It’s just business. If I recall correctly, I’ve given you many things Y/N. A car, a home, enough money to live your life comfortably.” Lizzie scoffed in her seat, swirling the wine in her glass.
“Oh please, that’s not the only thing you’ve given her.”
“Nevertheless. With signing over your business you’d be doing yourself a favor and I knew by making you fall in love with me, that would be quite easy with me as the only investor. Such a small, inexperienced girl in a world full of wolves waiting to sink their teeth in. Signing your rights over would be the wisest thing to do. You give me the business, we’ll part ways just as business deals operate.” Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, as each venomous word he spoke shattered your heart.
All sense of reality diminished, any hope that a man could love you and take a risk for you seemed impossible.
This was no one night stand, but an ongoing affair and you were sat in the lions den between a rock and a hard place.
Lizzie frowned in her seat, thinking of where she went wrong that Tommy would throw their entire marriage away just for extra money he didn’t need. The cold hard truth was Tommy could buy out a business with a simple sentence, he wanted to fuck you and dispose of you.
“Clock’s ticking Y/N. What’s it going to be?” Time bore down on you, massive decisions between right and wrong impending a headache.
Tommy held out the pen, watching you sit there in defeat. 
Reaching for the pen, about to sign the paper Lizzie stood up grabbing the pen from your shaking grip, taking you both by surprise.
“No! Do not sign that pub over to him. After everything you’ve worked, all the time and effort you’ve taken into opening this place up. You’ve taken so many risks. Don’t do this Y/N, he has done nothing but manipulate. Please be wiser than I was at your age. He will leave you high and dry though you may not see it now, believe me.” Tommy’s shallow blue eyes rolled in irritation, slamming his drink down on the table nearly shattering the glass.
“Enough! I don’t recall your name on the contract Lizzie.”
“This is my fucking house as much as yours and I will not let you stomp and parade all over me any longer nor her. In fact I think I’ve just developed a new way of business. I want a divorce.” The room turned completely silent.
When you tried to get up and excuse yourself in unison they spoke loudly, “Sit down.”
Lizzie was fuming, the vein in her forehead visibly popping through her skin while her nostrils flared in anger.
Aiming for the contract, she picked it up ripping the paper in shreds while Tommy grasped for her wrists to try and stop her.
“You can expect to hear from my lawyer and I will be taking the children. They’re hardly yours, you’re never here to take care of them. The endless nights I dealt with them asking why their daddy is never home because he was fucking some other woman out of the country. I’m sure this wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last.” Tommy was at a silence, excusing himself from the room leaving you and Lizzie alone.
“Lizzie I- I really don’t have the money to keep this place open on my own. I can’t-“
“Well then consider me your next investor.” You were shocked by her statement, not expecting the sincere offer.
“I- I feel like I just tore apart your whole marriage, why would you want to do business with me?” Shaking her head, she smiled sweetly, raising her glass in satisfactionz
“No sweetheart, you got rid of my problem. I’m better off without him. We both are. So what do you say?”
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chrisevansonly · 5 months
Note
For little karter what about something where Matteo as toddler is sick but tries to hide it from his family to not worry them? And maybe Lorenzo and Arthur find him curled underneath his dad's jacket? You can blurb or headcanon this, whatever you desire more? 🫶🏻
aww wait this is so cute 😭 (ps i chose to write this blurb in all english because i am tired and my french is not frenching)
Matteo was cuddled under Charles Moncler jacket that rested on the couch at Arthur’s apartment, the three of you spending the evening with him at his new home to have dinner together.
The toddler had seemed fine earlier but as the day went on he’d begun to feel a bit sick, and knowing it was cold season there was a good chance he’d come down with something.
He disappeared away from the two of you a few hours ago, and Arthur had decided to see if he was playing with the toy cars in his office, but as soon as he sees the lump that’s under the winter coat, he frowns
“Teo…”
He says softly a whine coming from underneath the coat, worrying the youngest Leclerc brother
“Char, can you come here?” He calls for his brother, who’s quick to walk over, leaving you to finish up dinner
“Matteo is under there but i’m not sure what’s wrong…i think he’s hiding”
Charles frowns before sitting next to his coat
“Amour…are you okay?”
“No papa…don’t w-want papa!” he answers back, sending worry through Charles
“Hey…Matteo why don’t you want papa what’s wrong baby?”
Matteo sniffles, the sound of his tired cries sending a pang of hurt to his heart
“Come on…tell me what’s happened?”
It takes a few more minutes of coaxing before he’s peaking his head out and looking at his dad. His eyes red and swollen, cheeks bright pink and a frown on his face
“d-don’t feel good papa…want maman…”
Charles can’t help but frown as he picks up the young boy and holds him to his chest, upset that Matteo was sick and hiding by himself
“Okay love, let’s go see maman okay?”
When the two of them arrived in the kitchen you dropped what you were doing and walked to your boys, distraught at the state of your little boy
“Oh honey…are you not feeling good..?”
Matteo nodded, pouting as he reached for you, wanting to be close to you, and you were quick to take him in your arms
“Let’s go have a nice warm bath and get you changed into some comfy clothes hmm? Maman will make it better” you cooed softly
“S-sorry for-hidin’”
Charles shook his head and kissed his forehead
“It’s okay to hide sometimes, but you know Maman and I love you and we always want you to come us okay?”
Matteo nodded, slumping into your hold before the two of you headed up to borrow the bathtub in Arthur’s bathroom. Thankfully he had a room set up for the little boy so cozy pyjamas and children’s tylenol were not far from you.
Matteo was a quiet and anxious little boy, but he was your little boy and all that mattered, was getting him back to feeling like himself, no matter what…
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mickyschumacher · 9 months
Note
hi! I love the way you write and I’d love to see some Daniel Ricciardo or Oscar Piastri content!! Older brother’s best friend and something including model!reader or figureskater!reader. I also cannot begin to describe how much I love your Taylor song based fics. I was hooked on Style and Dress, thank you, have a wonderful day :)
𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you don't have much in common with oscar piastri other than three things: you're both rare talents, you know each other through your older brother, and that, unknowingly, you both really like each other.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍���𝐍𝐆𝐒: older brother's best friend trope! (although not heavily enforced), suggestive but nothing crude, poor ice skating knowledge, mentions of the spa track, crashing and DNFing, reader likes to blame things on alcohol, lily (oscar's current gf) is his ex (oops), slight diss of tsitp, jealousy!!!, scene of harassment and a creepy man, a physical altercation in which oscar gets physically hurt, attending the wounded scene! (sobbing rn), a cute and horribly cheesy, fluffy ending!
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x figureskater!fem!reader, arthur leclerc x reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5k+ (um srry hehe)
𝐀/𝐍: i wanted to this was oscar but since he's kinda young, i did a one year age gap bc the territory of 'the older brother's best friend' for piastri is alarming to say the least. i also assumed it was a female reader due to my other works, hope that and this whole piece is okay!!
𝐏.𝐒: if you couldn't tell, it's loosely based off of taylor swift's 'i can see you' bc i ended up losing track lmao. sorry for taking FOREVER but coming back from holiday, going straight back into uni, and having writer's block is the worst combo 🤧 as usual, poorly proof read!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
In a world of billions, quite strangely yet only logically, there were many talented people across the globe. But very few were be a World Champion let alone the opportunity. You were part of this few. The Youngest World Champion in figure skating in history, a two-time World Champion and the 2022 Olympic winner.
You were a living legacy in your town.
Of course, you couldn't do it without the support of the people you loved. Your parents attended all your competitions. In fact, your father was the one who had brought you to the ice when you were three. And your brother, no matter how much of a menace he was, he was your number one fan. Despite all the things he had to do, he was always there for you.
Your brother was one of those Australian boys who had turned their passion for dirt biking into a career for motorcross racing.
Naturally, he had found a friend who was also very interested in racing. However, instead he loved driving a open wheel single-seater formula racing car at crazy speeds. That friend was Oscar Piastri. A childhood best friend of your brother's and a sort of acquaintance slash family friend of yours.
It worried you two see some of the most important people in your lives risk death almost every day but you enjoyed watching them do something they loved.
You could see it in their eyes when they raced. It was the same passion you had for the ice. The slivers of ice that occasionally touched your skin thrilled you was the same excitement that coursed through the two Aussies when they felt their engines rev.
It was odd. You could've sworn a few days ago, you were all kids playing in the backyard of your house; your brother riding his toy bike while Oscar raced him on foot and you commentated in Oscar's favour to piss your brother off. And now all three of you were leading your careers: you were a competitive figure skater, your brother was slamming the MXGP and Oscar was one of the best rookies introduced to F1 in a while.
Where time had gone... you could not even begin to wonder. Heck, once upon a time you were staring down Oscar in the school hallways because for some reason you could only talk to him outside of school. And now... well, it was complicated to say the least.
You had always liked Oscar. It was difficult not to. He was always around you. The boyish charm, the small smiles, the puppy brown eyes, his offers to help you with your homework, you visiting him when he raced... everything had built up inside you. It was festering.
But that's how you liked it. You didn't want to cross any lines. As heart-racing and flustering as your crush on him was, you could not bear the idea of telling someone who was brotherly to you that you liked him.
It was repulsing.
And as far as his dating history could went, Oscar didn't like you. Oscar wasn't a player but he definitely didn't like being single from what you could tell.
To be honest, considering you didn't see him that much due both of your schedules, nothing between the both of you would've ever happened if you're annual family holiday hadn't happened.
Your family and the Piastri's took time out at least once a year to relax together. And this year, your brother and Oscar's breaks overlapped, and you had persuaded your coach for two weeks off. That was all the both of your parents needed before booking a trip to Greece. Everyone wanted to go when they were younger and now they could finally go.
Two weeks... not much could happen. At least so you thought.
The moment you saw Oscar in Greece, your heart thumped against your chest like it had never before and you knew you were screwed. It was ridiculous. How after all the time did you still like this stupid driver? He was the root cause of your lonely love life. Which for most figure skaters was not a big deal... you had prospect lovers falling left and right. Especially the guys in pair skating. But no... you were head over heels for Oscar out of all people.
With the firm boundaries you had made, you ventured to not make a big deal about what you were feeling and pushed it to the side. But the thing about pushing things away, they have a funny way of coming back up.
━━━━━━━━━━━
On the first night of your much needed vacation, you had found one of the most popular restaurants in Santorini while endlessly browsing through social media and decided to get everyone out of the lovely AirBnB you had rented. Upon arriving, your parents and Oscar's were cooped up on one side of the dining table, leaving the 'kids', as your mother calls you three, on the other.
You released a sigh of content, feeling the crisp breeze dance past your skin in the warm summer evening air while your sip of assyrtiko (Greek white wine) slipped past your throat far too easily. Thank God you had chosen an outdoor restaurant tonight. Every time you were on holiday, you couldn't be more grateful to get away from all the stress. If you could live like this every day, with the warm breezy evenings and the amazing architecture, you would.
"So," your mother started, her voice hitting your direction. You flickered your gaze over to her, raising a brow. "How are my kids' love lives? Are you getting down?" She waggled her eyebrows behind her glasses.
A wave of heat pricked your skin at your mother's words. "Mom!" You hissed out in disbelief while your father and Oscar's parents chuckled.
"What? You guys never tell me anything anymore! I used to be the holder of all your secrets and now... now I am an old woman!" Your mother cried, wiping an invisible tear off of her cheek.
You and your brother blankly looked at her and then towards each other. To say your mother was a character was an understatement. She enjoyed her theatrics far too much for anyone's liking, more specifically you're liking.
Oscar grinned, reaching out his hand to hover over hers. "You could never be an old woman. Always young in my heart."
Your brother snorted at Oscar's cheesiness. After you and your brother, Oscar was your mother's son and Oscar was a suck-up. He liked being in the good books, especially that of your mother's.
"Of course," Your mother chuckled softly, patting Oscar's hand gently. She sucked in a sharp breath. "What happen to you and Lily? I heard you two broke up? I thought you liked her a lot?"
You could see Oscar tense at the mention of his ex, your own body rigid. It wasn't a surprise to you but you actually hated hearing about Oscar's love life. Unrequited feelings were already a bitch and you didn't need to make it any worse.
Oscar cleared his throat, a small smiling tugging at his lips. "I thought I did too..." He trailed off, falling into his own trance momentarily. Suddenly his eyes flickered around his surroundings before they landed on you. "I guess I just saw something I else I liked a lot more."
A slight shiver crept down your spine and your heart travelled towards your ears. You pressed your lips tightly together, furrowing your brows.
What the fuck?
You snapped your eyes away, firmly placing them on your empty plate that suddenly held your entire world. Oscar had never ever looked at you like that. Any time you looked into those puppy browns, they were usually some mix between happy, anger, annoyance, sadness, humour, and the God forbidden 'I-see-you-as-my-sister' type love.
But this... this was something else entirely. The softness of his gaze, his words, the timing of it all; a perfect execution of sorts... it was a first.
Maybe you had taken one too many sips of the wine. It was the only reasonable explanation behind your obvious hallucination.
Sooner or later, the sun would set, a main reason behind your picking of the restaurant. The parents and your brother were at the front of the house, arguing about who paid for tonight's dinner. You were more than happy to wait it out on the balcony and revel in the last few rays of light, eyes closed and the breeze dancing across your skin.
"Well don't you look happy," Oscar voice stated, nearing you.
You opened your eyes, slightly turning your head to the side only to look back a few second later. Oscar and sunsets... you enjoyed that combo far too much for your liking.
"That's because I am. Sometimes being off the ice is refreshing," You told him, taking in a breath of the fresh evening air.
Out of your peripheral vision you could see Oscar tilt his head, eyes raking over you with a small grin tugging at his lips. You ignored the pace of your heart as he nodded at your remark, settling in next you with his hands on the balcony bar, a mere inch away from your own.
"I hear that," Oscar sighed, looking out at the horizon.
You forced yourself to look over at him, trying to read his mind after hearing the burdened sigh he released. "Oscar... I hope you know you're doing well in F1 right now. You're doing pretty good compared to Lando's rookie year."
Oscar smiled gently. You knew him far too well. "I know. I just... I feel like everyone's expecting so much more of me. Podiums... race wins... like everything else I've done. And then Spa came along."
You winced at the mention of the track. Oscar had collided with Carlos on the very first lap. Carlos said Oscar was too optimistic about making that turn and Oscar said that he didn't even know what Carlos doing; that the Spaniard turned as if he wasn't even on the track. Nevertheless, the collision resulted in both of them DNFing.
You snorted. "Spa is a shit track," You dismissed Oscar's current pessimism with a wave of your hand.
Oscar chuckled at your crudeness. He couldn't disagree with you. Spa was one of those tracks which felt auspicious to any driver. The one where you hoped you at least passed the finishing line. It didn't matter what your position was... as long as you passed it, you were okay.
"Guys come on! We've finished paying," Your brother called out.
The both of you turned around. Oscar pushed himself off of the bar, heading towards your brother. "Who won this one?" He asked in amusement, hands gliding past his waist. Ever so gently, in his walk, he teetered towards you, letting his hand brush past your own, sending a tingle down both of you.
You gulped at the racing feeling, immediately pulling your hand closer to yourself. This hairs of your body stood straight and your fingers felt numb. Heck, you felt numb.
Damn, you thought, this is some crazy good wine.
━━━━━━━━━━━
The thing about your inclination to blame everything on the alcohol you consumed was that it only actually worked if you consumed alcohol. You were lucky if you could extend to the remaining bits by a day with the claims of a hangover.
But right now, you were sober as hell.
An unfortunate event, to say the least.
"Y/N, wake up," Oscar's voice pounded against your blanketed, muffled ears.
"Ugh, no" You groaned, cocooning yourself into your blanket and pressing your head further into your pillow, savouring the warmth.
You always had such early mornings when you trained, waking up at ungodly hours only to workout before heading to the rink. Being on the ice was the only thing you loved. Your fans were sweet but everything else after that, the press, the workouts, the food, sucked. So you cherished the late summer morning in Santorini. And no person, let alone a boy who announced his F1 team to you by saying "I'm driving for a papaya", was going to ruin this for you.
Oscar put his hands on his hips, eyeing you with a twitch in his eye. "But breakfast is ready. I cooked!"
You laughed into your sheets lightly. "Oh boy, that's even worse!"
Oscar looked at your peeking head and humoured eyes blankly. "That," he started to say as he began to literally pull you out of your bed by your arms, "is very very rude thing to say to the chef."
"Oscar, no! Let go!" You begged, hands flailing to attach themselves to anything. Falling on the hard cold floor was not the ideal morning for you.
At least not alone.
You jutted out your leg, nudging Oscar's to the side, making him stumble over his steps. As he quickly realised he was losing balance, he threw his body under yours, creating a soft landing for you as you both fell to the floor.
You were laughing too hard to realise Oscar's one hand had even moved to your waist and the other to your head, as if it was to protect you from getting hurt.
"Oh my God! You should've seen your face! It was like–" You turned to mimic his expression but you couldn't find the words. All the air around you had been seized, your throat was dry and you were breathless.
When had Oscar's face become so close to yours?
You couldn't remember the last time you were this close to him. Probably as a child. He was cute back then as well. But growing up changed the both of you. The most apparent reminder of how old you were was the tiny short hairs from his chin that he always tried to shave off. His eyes were still as brown as ever, less big because he grew into his face. And his lips... they were kissable.
His face was also littered with freckles here and there. You didn't even realise your finger had shot out to play connect the dots with them until you could feel his faint warm breath from how close you were.
Your eyes trailed up his face to find his gaze firmly planted on yours. Suddenly you could feel where his hands were and your skin burned at his touch. The current heatwave in Europe had left you in some thin pyjamas. You didn't regret it last night but you definitely regretted wearing them right now.
Hypnotised, you found yourself leaning in naturally. Oscar's head also nudged forward. Your lips were barely a centimetre away from each other. You could hear your name slip out of Oscar's lips as the faintest whisper. Like it was a struggle to say your name because he couldn't think.
His woody and amber scent engulfed you and for a second, you couldn't think.
Not until you could hear your brother scream both of your names from the kitchen, demanding you to come to breakfast.
You blinked, falling out of your trance as quickly as you fell in.
Oscar felt you jerk in his arms suddenly, pushing yourself out of his hold and attempting to stand up. "Y/N, I–"
No. God, no.
You weren't ruining a friendship over this.
You could pretend. Yes. Pretend. You can't see him.
"We're coming!" You yelled back, feeling your cheeks redden with embarrassment and annoyance; both vexing feeling for yourself.
God, what a day to be sober.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Honestly how this holiday had gone from zero to a hundred was beyond you.
Pretending like nothing had happened in your room was harder than you thought. Not when Oscar looked at you with these burdened eyes and like he had something to say to you, right on the tip of his tongue.
You considered avoiding him. But doing so on a family trip was easier said than done. Besides, it would've been pretty obvious to everyone else and knowing your family, they would've made a big deal out of nothing. Because that's what it was: nothing.
But alas, you have a brother. And normally, he's stupid and self-obsessed to the point it bordered on unhealthy. But as your brother, it seemed he had some sort of sixth sense for these sorts of things. Something about the older sibling being superior or whatever lies he convinced himself with.
"Why are you being weird with Oscar? Your brother asked you while you ate some ice cream and caught up with the new season of 'The Summer I Turned Pretty'. At first, you couldn't fathom watching a character called 'Belly' out of all things but somehow you got hooked.
You paused the scoop of ice cream you put in your mouth, letting it slowly melt away as you stared hard at your nuisance of a brother. "I have literally no idea what you're talking about."
"Ha, nice try. You're supposed to use 'literally' when you deny it the second time," Your brother smiled at you smugly.
You pressed your lips together, feeling your teeth slightly grind against your spoon. You couldn't decide whether you wanted to smack the shit of your brother with a spoon or bury him in a six-foot deep hole.
"Come on, lil sis, you can talk to me. Everyone's out of the house right now," He partially jested while being entirely serious.
Burying him in a hole it was.
"I have nothing to say to you," You stated, eyes reverting back to your show.
Your brother narrowed his eyes, grabbing the remote to pause the episode. Ignoring your exclaim of annoyance, he sat down next to you and took your ice cream and spoon away from you to dig into the pint for himself.
You shuddered in disgust. You were not having that flavour for a while.
He pointed your spoon at you. "I know you think I'm stupid, which I may be, but I'm not entirely an idiot. What happened with you and Oscar? You were all happy buddies a few days ago. Now he looks like a lost puppy and you look like you saw Pennywise in the hallway."
You bit down on your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. You couldn't actually let him know he was funny.
"Did he do something to you? Y/N, if he did something wrong to you I swear to God... just tell me and I will end him."
Your eyes widened at the sudden change of the conversation. Sitting up, you waved your hands in urgent dismissal. "No! Oh my God, nothing like that! Holy shit."
Your brother let a relieved exhale fall from his mouth before furrowing his brows. "Then what happened? Is it your stupid crush on him?"
"I–what?" You asked dumbfounded, looking at your brother incredulously.
"Your crush? Like the one you've had since you first laid eyes on him. You know everyone knows right? It's kinda obvious. Well, everyone but Oscar," your brother said nonchalantly.
You blinked blankly at him. "Before I throw myself off of a cliff, I can give you the generous choice of how you die? Personally I'm thinking asphyxiation, arson, or murder."
Your brother gulped, slowly putting away the ice cream. "Okay, first off stop watching Criminal Minds so much. Second of all, you don't need to feel embarrassed. All of us have been secretly rooting for you. Especially mom and Oscar's mom. You should've seen how happy they got when I told them Oscar and Lily broke up. It was seriously creepy."
You sighed, falling onto the couch. "It doesn't matter how creepy it was. We almost kissed! And then you called for us. Any later, I would've ruined our friendship. What's the point anyways? He doesn't like me. I'm gonna die in the friendzone," You dramatically sobbed out.
"Well you can start by not turning the other direction when you see him. Poor guy looks like you killed his dog. Do you think a guy who's dog was killed has any guts to speak to their murderer? And that's beside the fact that he may like his murderer."
Where was that shovel again?
"You know what you need to do? Do something that makes him talk to you. I got it! I could set you up with Arthur! He's in Santorini too! Oscar would hate it."
"Oh my God... do you want me to die?" You asked, slightly horrified at the look of pure joy on your brother's face .
Your brother grinned. "Of course, I do. Would I be your brother if I didn't?"
━━━━━━━━━━━
For as long as he could remember, Oscar was a peaceful guy. He didn't really get angry quickly. He was usually calm and usually could think before he acted.
But all those characteristics were thrown out the window, well into the air of the music festival everyone decided to attend, when he saw you walk into the event with Arthur Leclerc. His former teammate out of all people.
"Is that Arthur? Why is he here?" Oscar asked your brother.
"Hmm?" Your brother turned around, pretending to squint at the two of you briefly before catching your piercing gaze. "Oh yeah... that is him. He told me he was in Greece. Guess he found Y/N first. Makes sense I guess."
Oscar looked at your brother dubiously. "I... what does that even mean?"
"I don't know why but I always got the feeling he liked Y/N," your brother shrugged.
Oscar blinked. "You're taking the fucking piss..." He huffed in disbelief.
"What? Oh? Here they come."
Truth be told, Arthur was more than happy to oblige with your brother's game. He hadn't seen Oscar in a while because they were in different championships now. Getting the opportunity to play with him a bit was a hard offer to turn down.
"Ozzie!" Arthur cheered, bringing him into a hug.
Oscar raised a brow at you. That pet name originated from you when the three of you decided to become superheroes for a day and you decided to name eight-year-old Oscar, 'Ozzie the Mozzie' after he got bitten by one. No one else on Earth called him that but you.
"I was telling Arty here about that mozzie that bit you and he really liked Ozzie the Mozzie," You chuckled softly.
Arty...
God give him strength because Oscar wasn't sure how much longer he could bear this.
To be honest, you weren't much of a music festival type of person. It was always crowded, hot, and filled with some sort of drugs even if you couldn't see it.
But aside from that, you enjoyed the serenity it could bring; the indie music that was well on it's way to becoming pop; the calming breeze; the warming sun.
Well you would enjoy it more if a certain Aussie wasn't staring daggers to the side of your head–Arthur's head.
You felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned around to see a stranger. A somewhat attractively creepy stranger but a stranger nonetheless. You raised your brows and gave a small smile. "Yes?"
"I know you don't know me but I just saw you from over there and I wanted to say you're really pretty!"
You blinked, feeling the three boys around you stiffen at the compliment. You nodded slowly, putting on a grateful smile. "Oh, thank you so much," You responded, laughing awkwardly.
A moment of awkward silence settled in the air as the guy still remained in front of you.
"So... I was wondering if I get could get your number?" The guy asked with an odd glint in his eyes.
The alarms were ringing in your head and an uncomfortable shiver went down your spine. "Uh, I'm sorry. I... I don't really want to. But thanks for your offer," You politely declined.
"Oh come on. I called you pretty... that's gotta be worth your number. Come on."
Oh.
Honestly, you were speechless. Your number which for him was the leeway into your intimate life was worth a compliment.
"Yeah, I don't think so," You quipped sharply, gritting your teeth.
"Come on, baby girl. Let me show you a fun time." The guy stepped forward, his hand reaching towards your body.
You froze at his words. You wanted to move but you couldn't.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Oscar, Arthur, and your brother step in front of you.
"Mate, fuck off. She doesn't want you," Oscar pushed the guy away from you.
Your brother snorted. "I don't think anyone wants him."
The guy sneered, making you wince. He raised his hands in a feigned defence, beginning to turn away from you. Thank God. "Fine. I didn't want a girl like you anyways. All these guys around you... a whore."
Arthur and you, as the pacifists you were, watched in silent horror as your brother poked his tongue in his cheek and Oscar's head quickly whipped towards the guy.
"Oscar..." You warned meekly as Arthur tried to get your brother's attention.
The last thing any of you needed was famed athletes on the front page of ESPN, cited as the cause of a brawl.
"What did you say?" Oscar raised a brow, ignoring your pleas and walking towards the guy. His tone was dark and the total opposite of what he normally sounded like. He was raged.
"The truth," The guy chuckled. "I said she's a whore. Why? What are you gonna do about it, little boy?"
Yeah see, the guy most definitely had a couple of inches on Oscar and you brother. You weren't really keen on seeing them get pummelled to the ground.
Oscar said nothing in response but raised his fist, slamming it into the side of the guy's jaw.
Oh for fuck's sake.
As if the guy had lightening reflexes, the guy quickly pulled his head back up and got a hold of Oscar, getting into a cycle of punches.
Your heart dropped at the sight. Your brother, thank God, and Arthur quickly realised that Oscar wasn't winning anything here, stepping in to push the two men apart. A small crowd began to gather, some thankfully aiding in trying to stop whatever was going on.
Arthur pulled Oscar away and towards you. You held Oscar against you, clutching him tightly as your heart raced in your ears. Somewhere in the muffled sounds you could hear your brother.
"We're going home. Now."
━━━━━━━━━━━
Your brother and Arthur had decided to go explain the situation the both of your parents who were out having lunch because you couldn't blame all those bruises and dry blood on Oscar's face by saying he fell. This left you to clean up Oscar to reduce the risk of your parents having a heart attack.
You clenched your jaw, holding the first aid kid and a wet cloth to your side as you walked towards the seated racing driver who had found a lot of interest in the floor all of a sudden while icing his face.
"I can't believe you," You mumbled in annoyance, taking a seat next to him. You gently grabbed his chin, putting side the ice bag, trying to decide on where to start cleaning but you could only wince at his face. His bottom lip and his brow was slightly torn, the side of his jaw and the top of his cheek had started to bruise, and his nose was a blood fest.
All the pain Oscar felt began to disappear as he felt your hands gently graze past his skin, scouting all the damage that had occurred. He looked at your pained eyes and internally sighed. He hated seeing you in pain. "He was disrespecting you. I wasn't going to just let it go."
You rolled your eyes, slowly wiping away the dry blood. "He was like six foot two, Oscar. You're like five foot. He could've ki... he could've really hurt you," You jested before your voice fell into a bare whisper.
Oscar's heart clenched as you went back on your words, watching you grab some antiseptic with shaky hands. He grabbed your hands, holding them with his own and softly looked into your eyes. "But he didn't. I'm fine. See?" He smiled widely before wincing at the pain shooting through his face.
You snorted. "As if."
"Hey, you're talking to a guy who crashes at most craziest speeds. Bet that guy can't do that," Oscar shrugged nonchalantly.
You narrowed your eyes. "If you weren't already hurt, I would've smacked the shit out of you right now. Just so you know."
Oscar grinned at you. "Ah, there's the ever kind Y/N I love."
You rolled your eyes before processing what he had just said. As friends. Friendly love. Right. You shook your head out of your trance, removing your hands from his and returning back to the stupid first aid kit next to you.
Oscar mended his brows together. "Hey," he tapped your thigh, "you heard what I said right?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah," You said idly, opening the tube of antiseptic cream.
"What? I..." Oscar sighed, taking the cream out of your hands before pulling you closer to him. His hands held your face, looking you dead in the eye. "I said I love you, Y/N. You know... the type where you look at someone and all you know is that you can't breathe without them? The one in your books?"
Your mouth felt dry. You blinked blankly. Your hands felt clammy. You chuckled nervously. "Pfft, what? You don't love me. You mean as a friend, right? I think you need some medicine. Maybe there's some in this kit." Your eyes darted down, frantically looking around the box as your heart thudded against your chest.
"Hey, hey," Oscar called, using his hand to turn your chin towards him. "I don't. I mean, I do love you as a friend, but no. I love love you."
"Well... what about about Lily?"
"As I said... I realised I loved someone else more," Oscar told you, letting his confession sink into your mind. "You know... if your idiot brother didn't call us that day, I definitely would've kissed you."
Oh.
Well.
That was something.
This was real. You weren't dreaming. You hadn't died. Oscar, your childhood best friend and your brother's best friend, was confessing to you.
"Huh... well, if it's any consolation, I probably would've kissed you too," You retorted, trying to keep your quirking lips at bay before you began smiling for too much for anyone's liking.
"Probably? That kinda sucks. Are you sure you wouldn't have definitely kissed me?" Oscar grinned, grabbing your waist and seating you down on his lap.
"Hmm... I mean maybe. This current environment is nowhere near as enticing as my bedroom. I mean what is sexier than me waking up, am I right?" You joked, trying to cover up the fact that you were dying at the proximity between you two.
Oscar pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek, holding your jaw while his thumb grazed your lips. "Well, I can think of a few other things."
You silently watched as Oscar leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. His lips were softer than you could ever imagine.
You blinked, taking a mere second to register what was going on. Oscar Piastri was kissing you. Holy shit, Oscar Piastri was kissing you!
You kissed him back, feeling his hand wrap around the back of your neck and the other holding you steady against him. Your skin burned at his touch, feeling his fingers snake past the hem of your shirt and rest on your hot skin.
Oddly enough, despite your heat, goosebumps sprawled across every inch of your skin as his tongue darted out, exploring your own, giving you access to his mouth.
You could've sworn you were walking on fire. One more step and you could've combusted. Your thighs clenched at the moan that slipped from Oscar's mouth as your teeth tugged on his bottom lip, your hands roaming around his chest and his arms.
Oscar's hand wrapped around your hair, enjoying the softness he had wanted touch ever since he realised he had feelings for you. His pants felt tight as he felt your hand brush against his bare torso. Fuck. You were going to do him in. He fell back further into the couch, holding you tighter against him.
The desire you had was blinding you. Your other hand fell to his cheek, forgetting about his injuries till Oscar murmured an "ouch".
You retracted your hands, pulling back from his lips, a move Oscar clearly didn't enjoy as his eyes followed your lips. "Shit!" You exclaimed, "the antiseptic! Sorry!"
Oscar paused in his trance, realising what you were talking about. He smiled softly, lips widening even further when he saw your swollen lips and flushed cheeks.
You carefully applied the cream to his brow before moving to his lips. "The diagnosis for you Mr Piastri is no more kissing for you," You grinned.
Oscar looked at you dumbfounded. "I–what? For how long?"
"Mmm... a week?"
"A week?" Oscar repeated in exasperation. "There is no way I can last that long. Not after this. Besides I'm pretty sure kissing actually helps you heal faster."
Your skin warmed further at his confession. You cleared your throat and held his hands. "I am confident that is not scientifically true."
Oscar narrowed his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. "You need to read better medical journals, doc."
You tilted your head to the side, leaning in further. "I think I have an alternative."
"Yeah?" Oscar's eyes danced across your face, smiling softly. "What is it?"
"It's less practical, more theoretical. Confessional, if you will," You shrugged, letting your forehead rest against his.
Oscar shut his eyes, enjoying the warmth of you. "Oh really? Don't let me stop you."
"I love you, Oscar. I've loved you since we were little heroes running around in the backyard."
Oscar opened his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist. He smiled widely at you. "Are you sure you said a week?"
You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest playfully. "I'm sure."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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vanishingcherry · 1 year
Text
A WHOLE NEW WORLD
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pairings: f1 grid x leclerc!driver reader, charles leclerc x sister!reader
warnings: sexism, hugging, talk about the possibility of a car crash, 2021 f1 grid
authors note: i was thinking of making this a series, so let me know if thats something you would be interested in! (like leclerc driver in different situations throughout the seasons after her debut in 2021)
masterlist
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Sitting on a flight to Bahrain, it would be an understatement to say that Y/N was nervous. She sat next to her brother, Charles, with Arthur sitting across from her, fast asleep against the headrest of the plane seat.
Charles was going into his 4th season in Formula 1, his third with Ferrari. Y/N, however, was going into her first, following her older brother's footsteps as she started out her rookie season with Sauber, or Alfa Romeo as it was now called.
Looking out the window, she watched in amazement as the city lights sparkled in the night. She had been to Bahrain before, during her time in F3 and F2 with Prema, but landing as a Formula 1 driver was a different feeling altogether.
Y/N was confident in the car. 3 days of preseason testing allowed her to get accustomed to all the differences from the F2 cars. While it definitely wasn't at the level of Mercedes, Ferrari or Red Bull, she was sure that she would be able to get at least a few points over the course of the season.
She was also extremely lucky to be paired with Kimi for her rookie season. The seasoned driver was known to be extremely less talkative, but she was sure she would pick up a few tips by just being in his presence. They had even had a short conversation during the pre-season testing during which Kimi told her that he was glad to have her as a teammate. Y/N never really realised just how much that statement meant to her until now, easing some of the nerves.
After landing, she and Charles walk through customs and head outside together, Arthur and Lorenzo following not too far behind. Immediately met by thousands of fans, she watches an unfazed Charles make his way towards them, smiling and signing posters and caps. She watches in awe for a second before a voice calling her name catches Y/N's attention.
"Y/N! Can you sign my cap please!"
She looks over to see a young girl amongst the crown and makes her way to the barrier. Kneeling over, she grabs the pen and signs the cap with a big smile.
"Are you going to watch the race?" Y/N smile turns even bigger when the girl nods.
"We've got seats at turn 3. I hope you get points! I love you!"
She laughs at the response, giving the girl a quick hug before making her way down the fans lined up.
There were dozens of people there, waving flags and notebooks for her to sign. Others just wanted a quick hug or a picture, which Y/N quickly obliged to. While she couldn't interact with everybody there, she made sure to as many people as possible.
Almost all of them were shouting words of encouragement and support, compliments hitting her from all sides. Surprised by how many people wanted her to sign things and take pictures, it was almost half an hour later when she finally sat down in the car, slumping against the seat as it made its way to the hotel. Her hand hurting from the number of autographs she had given out.
"There were so many people who wanted me to sign stuff" She said to Charles. "I didn't think there would be that many. All the girls were so excited."
"You're the first female driver Y/N, of course they were excited. I'm so proud of you, everyone is." Charles smiles as he replies, knowing just how hard it was to make it to F1, even more so as a girl. "Papa and Jules would be so, so happy."
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"Thats P12 Y/N! Great job!"
The engineer's voice comes through the radio, conveying to Y/N her qualifying results.
"Oh my god! 12th is crazy, thank you! Where did Charles place? And Kimi?" Happy that Charles qualified 4th she celebrated, although she was slightly confused as to how she qualified ahead of Kimi who was 14th.
"There was an issue with his car." Her engineer explains, before telling her to switch off the engine and prepare for strategy discussion.
Y/N was just a few tenths off from making Q3 in her debut. Nonetheless, P12 was an amazing standing for the start of the race, and she was overjoyed at the prospect of getting points at her first ever F1 race.
As she makes her way to the driver rooms, Charles catches up to her, giving her a quick hug. "Xavi told me you qualified 12th! Congratulations! Get points tomorrow okay?"
She nods in response, congratulating him for qualifying P4 before once again making her way to the driver's room. She received many pats on the back on her way there, some from drivers and others from reporters and general people around the paddock.
Walking into the motorhome, Kimi is quick to congratulate her. Y/N expresses her sympathy for his qualifying position, but Kimi is quick to brush it aside. Having been in the sport this long, he knew that a bad qualifying doesn't mean a bad race.
After the discussions with the team for the next day's strategy had been closed, Y/N heads out, wanting to get a good nights rest before her first race.
The only goal for the next day was to race well and hopefully get a few points. Y/N knew that Alfa Romeo was feeling the pressure just as much as she was, being the team that signed the first female driver. All she wanted was to learn as much as possible while proving herself to the world.
"Just learn", is what the team principle had said not an hour ago. "Learn as much as you can, enjoy, and try not to crash the car."
Just as the rookie opens the taxi door, a voice calling out her name makes her turn around. At the sight of Sebastian, she pulls out her earphones.
The driver had just made the switch to Aston Martin, being Charles's teammate the year before. "I heard you qualified 12th! Thats amazing!"
Shyly she laughs. "Yeah, thank you so much!"
"Is anyone giving you a hard time?" he asks, fully prepared to defend Y/N. Sebastian had been an advocate for women in this sport for a long time, and was truly delighted that the step had finally be taken. Truth be told, he was honoured that he would be getting the opportunity to race against Y/N, even though she would insist it was the other way round.
"Not really," she replies. "Just a few fans on social media and stuff, saying it's a 'mans' sport."
"Ah, I think Hanna showed me a few of those posts." Sebastian mutters, thinking back to a weekend ago when his wife showed him the latest news, courtesy to the driver not having any social media accounts of his own. "Ignore them, we all know that you're amazing and believe me, you absolutely deserve to be here."
The 4 time world champion was speaking from experience. He had kept an eye on her the previous year. Although they hadn't talked much, other than when she was in the garage to visit Charles, Sebastian was ecstatic when he heard that the young girl had won the F2 Championship.
"I bet you'll get points tomorrow, you're just that good."
"Ah thanks Seb!" Y/N is close to blushing at that comment, overwhelmed with the number of compliments she had been receiving over the course of the day.
After another few moments of chatting, Sebastian walks away to his own car, leaving Y/N to get in hers and get back to the hotel. Popping her earphones back in, she relaxes against the seat, ready for what the race would bring.
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"It's lights out and away we go for the first time in the 2021 season!"
The voice of David Croft is heard all around the world, thousands having tuned in to watch the start of the new season. Y/N gets a good start, overtaking Perez and moving up to P11 by turn 1.
Ahead of her now was Stroll in the Aston Martin. Staying close to him for the next few laps, she manages to overtake him on the straight when DRS opens.
"You're in the points! Push!" Her engineers voice comes through. Behind him the team was watching the screen in suspense, hoping that she would be able to keep the position. They jumped out of their seats nearly every time she got close to another car, worried out of their mind for the driver but excited nonetheless.
Choosing to stay out on track for an extra few laps earns her another two positions as most drivers go in for their pitstop, putting her at P8. Y/N manages to defend her position for majority of the race, keeping the Aston Martins and Red Bull behind her.
Towards the second half of the race, Y/N went in for her pitstop, unfortunately losing a spot in the process. Still, just 13 laps later, Y/N crossed the finish line in P9, having gotten 2 points for the driver standings and the team.
"Thats P9! P9 Y/N! Amazing, amazing job!"
Body in shock, she thanks the team and engineers profusely, jumping out of the car the second she parked it.
"Y/N Leclerc crosses the line in P9, an absolutely stellar performance. The first points scored from a woman in decades, and that too in her first race. I'm sure we can expect nothing short of brilliance from her in the future." Martin Brundle's voice can be heard by all watching.
Still in awe at the moment, all Y/N can think about is the fact that she got points. You did it, you did it, you did it. She runs into the barriers, giving a hug to everyone from Alfa Romeo standing there.
Behind her, Charles comes in for a hug, having heard from his engineer that Y/N placed 9th. "Je t'aime, je suis si fier" i love you, i am so proud
The next few minutes were a blur. Waving to the fans, Y/N can hear them cheer in the background as more and more people come up to her. Lewis pats her helmet on his way to the podium, Max and Valtteri doing the same. Sebastian walks by and offers a hug, widely grinning as he winks and says a quick "Told you so."
It was an out of the world experience. While not everyone may see the importance, everyone on the grid knew exactly how she was feeling. Having worked your entire life to reach F1, the feeling after getting your first points is one that no one would ever forget. One that Y/N would never forget.
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"So Y/N, how does it feel having won points in your debut race?" The reporter asks when she enter the media pen. Replays of her crossing the checkered flag in P9 can be seen playing on the television in the background.
"There was a lot of pressure on me to perform well, being the first signed female driver and of course Charles being in Ferrari. People expected a lot. So, I am extremely happy that I was able to deliver."
Her response is short and sweet, as directed by the PR manager, but true nonetheless. There was a lot of controversy when Sauber announced that she would be joining F1 that year, with people on both sides of the spectrum making statements. It meant heaps to her, knowing that she had already started proving the haters wrong.
Toto and Susie Wolff were in support, both mentioning how important it was for more females to enter the sport. The Mercedes Principle having mentioned how "proud" he was, and how her presence would likely "encourage more girls from around the world to enter motorsport."
Susie being having participated in motorsport herself had reached out to Y/N when the news broke, sending her congrats and sharing her enthusiasm. Y/N and her still stay in contact, having just replied to another congratulatory message from Susie before coming out to give interviews.
On the other hand, there were also people who were doubtful of her. "She's entering a sport that has been predominantly male for over 7 decades. The way I see it, I'm not sure she'll be able to handle the needs of this sport. It's a tough sport, and there must be a reason females have never lasted long before." The statement that Red Bull released via their team principle was nothing short of enraging for Y/N, but she knew that she would have to stay calm and prove them wrong on track.
Nonetheless, Y/N knew that she had the support of all the drivers on the grid, all of them having talked to her and shown support during the pre-season testing. It meant a lot to her knowing that world champions like Lewis, Alonso and Sebastian were all rooting for her.
"And how did Charles react to you coming P9?"
"He was very happy," she exclaimed. "A bit jealous I think, because he didn't get points in his debut." Y/N adds, softly chuckling before moving on to the next reporter.
The rest of the media session went well, all the reporters being respectful and truly happy for Y/N. Finally, once the day was over, she went back to the hotel, ready for a night of relaxation.
Not too long after settling down on the couch, she heard a knock and the door handle turning. Charles walks in.
Falling back onto the couch next to her, he says. "The reporter told me what you said to her."
Frowning in response, Y/N pauses the movie. He elaborates. "About me being jealous? Because I didn't get points in my debut?" He gently elbows her in the rib and she laughs in response.
"But its true, no?
๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑
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lecsainz · 1 year
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monegasque charm
pairings: arthur leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: arthur making stupid pick-up lines, jokes between the leclerc brothers.
authors note: i strongly believe that arthur should make this kind of joke with his girlfriend and the leclerc brothers teasing each other, omg i love this family!
word count: 1K
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Y/N and her friends had been looking forward to the Monaco Grand Prix for months. They had saved up their money, booked their tickets, and packed their bags with excitement and anticipation. But as they approached the circuit, their excitement turned to frustration as they found themselves stuck in a long queue of cars, barely moving at all.
"Can you believe this?" Y/N groaned, leaning her head against the car window. "We're going to miss the whole race at this rate."
Her friends nodded in agreement, muttering under their breath about the terrible traffic and the incompetence of the organizers. But Y/N couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. This was supposed to be the highlight of their trip, and now it seemed like they might not even make it to the circuit in time.
As they sat there, bored and frustrated, Y/N noticed a group of guys in the car behind them. They were laughing and joking, seemingly undisturbed by the traffic. And then she noticed one of them in particular - a boy with light hair and bright blue eyes, who winked and smiled at her when he realized she was watching him.
"Who are they?" Y/N asked her friends, nodding towards the car behind them.
"I don't know," one of her friends shrugged. "But they're cute."
Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny that the boy with the blue eyes was kind of adorable. And as the traffic continued to crawl along, she found herself stealing glances at him, wondering who he was and why he seemed so familiar.
It wasn't until they finally reached the circuit that Y/N realized who the boy was - Arthur, the younger brother of Charles Leclerc, her favorite F1 driver. Suddenly everything made sense - the blue eyes, the mischievous smile, the effortless charm.
As they were making their way through the crowds, Y/N felt someone bump into her from behind. She turned around to see Arthur standing there, a look of surprise on his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" he said, flashing her a smile. "I didn't mean to bump into you like that."
Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart rate pick up at the sight of him. "It's okay," she replied. "We're all a little crowded here."
As they moved forward, Y/N couldn't help but notice that Arthur was wearing a shirt with the logo of his brother's F1 team. And when he caught sight of the number on her own shirt - Charles' racing number - his eyes widened in recognition.
"Hey, I like your shirt," he said, gesturing to the number. “16 is a great number, isn't it?”
Y/N felt a flush rise to her cheeks as she realized that she had been wearing Charles' number all day without even knowing that his brothers were nearby. "Oh, wow," she said. "I'm a huge fan of his."
Arthur grinned. "Yeah, me too. He's pretty amazing, isn't he?"
Y/N nodded, feeling a sudden wave of shyness wash over her. But as they chatted more, she found herself warming up to Arthur's easy charm and infectious enthusiasm.
"So, are you into racing too?" she asked, curious about the young Leclerc's own ambitions.
Arthur's face lit up. "Yeah, actually. I'm a driver myself - I compete in F2."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That's amazing. You must be really talented."
Arthur shrugged modestly. "I like to think so. But it's tough out there, you know? It takes a lot of hard work and dedication to make it in this sport."
Y/N nodded sympathetically, feeling a sudden kinship with the young driver.
As they walked towards the grandstands, Arthur couldn't resist making a few cheesy jokes and silly pick-up lines, trying to make Y/N laugh.
"Are you a parking ticket?" he asked with a grin. "Because you've got 'fine' written all over you."
Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at the corny line, but she found herself giggling anyway.
Before they knew it, was time for Arthur to go and find his brothers before the race started. As they said their goodbyes, Arthur pulled out his phone and asked for Y/N's number.
"I'll text you later, Y/N. Maybe we can grab a drink or something?" he said with a smile.
Y/N nodded eagerly, feeling a spark of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.
Arthur hurried to find his brothers, Lorenzo and Charles. As soon as he saw them, he excitedly recounted his encounter with Y/N and how they had hit it off in the queue.
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "You're telling us about a girl you just met in line? I hope you're not neglecting your training for F2."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course not, but a little distraction never hurt anyone. And besides, Y/N is really cool.”
Charles chimed in, a smile on his face."Well, well, well, look who's got a crush,”nudging Arthur in the ribs.
"You should ask her out," Lorenzo suggested.
Arthur's eyes widened. "What? No way. I barely know her."
Charles snorted. "That's never stopped you before."
Arthur blushed, but nodded in agreement. "I already got her number. And I'm planning on taking her out to dinner next week."
Lorenzo smirked. "Look at you, little brother, all grown up and making moves. Just don't let it affect your racing, okay?"
Arthur laughed, feeling grateful for his brothers' support.
Later that night, as Y/N and her friends were out at a bar celebrating the end of the race, her phone buzzed with a message from Arthur.
"Hey, it's Arthur 😉 I had a great time hanging out with you today. Want to meet up tomorrow?"
Y/N's heart raced as she replied, "Sure! How about we grab lunch at that cute café we saw earlier?"
As the week in Monaco came to an end, Y/N felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving Arthur behind. But as they hugged goodbye, Arthur promised to stay in touch and even invited her to come watch him race in the F2 later that year.
And as Y/N made her way back home, she couldn't help but smile at the memory of the handsome Monegasque boy who had swept her off her feet.
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cheriladycl01 · 1 month
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Miami Waves - Logan Sargeant x NewZealandOlympicSurfing! Reader
Plot: Miami boy wants to see if his Olympic surfing girl can keep up with the Floridian waves and you end up getting to know his colleagues more in the process
Credit to egg-waffles16 for the GIF
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“Thank you for coming and being here with me” he smiles, his parents had been wanting to meet you for a while. You’d started dating when he first got into F2 and was put under the Williams Young Driver Programme.
“You knew I wouldn’t say no. I’ve been wanting to meet them just as much!” You exclaim. You were a little nervous to meet them, as in your mind Logan was it for you, this was the boy you wanted to marry and have a family with. And even if he didn’t feel the same way right now, that was okay. Not that you knew if he did as you’d never discussed your guys future.
But if you had, he would have told you he felt the exact same way.
Meeting his parents was so much fun, and you got to meet his older brother who teased the both of you relentlessly.
You were used to surfing in Australia and New Zealand. They were the closest to you, and there wasn’t quite any waves like their were on the Australian Coastline. That’s actually where you’d won, one of your first ever championships in surfing. Two years later and you were a Silver Medalists.
“Well my family love you. I’m pretty sure they wanted you to move in” he laughs, Logan lived at home all through his career in F2 and he still visited often as he always said how he felt like an outcast on the F1 grid.
Alex helped but he’d drifted apart from Oscar and had to watch him form a really strong bond with Lando.
He still talked to his friends from his days in Prema as well but everything but you felt so disconnected lately.
So spending those two weeks with his family and you in Miami in the beach villa you'd all rented was vital for the both of you. You felt like you'd been so busy running around, travelling the world with Logan all the time, surfboard rentals at every new place you went so you could train and sometimes travelling for your own championships.
You spent the two weeks doing the most mundane stuff, like cooking together with Logan, building sandcastles, teaching him how to paddle board before showing him the intricacies that came with surfing, which you thought considering his concentration and hand-eye coordination in an F1 car he'd be good at but he couldn't stay on the board once.
Your favourite thing was his family getting really excited to show your their favourite local restaurants in Florida.
You were currently sat on your surfboard with your legs in the water and hands on the middle part of it, watching everything in the neck high water below you.
The water's were crystal clear and you could see the little fishes swimming around playing through the sand. You were swaying a little bit where the quieter, unrideable waves were lapping over your board and sending you in random directions.
You were peacefully watching everything go by, until that peace was ruined by Logan, coming running into the water in his basketball shorts making you look over to him in shock.
"Logan?" you asked as he swam up to hold into your board, you scooted back so that he could haul himself up and sit opposite you on the board.
"Erm, so ... kind of last minute but you about to meet Oscar, Arthur and Freddie" Logan said, trying to give you his cute teddy bear smile, but all that was running through your body was shock.
It was a bit strange but you hadn't actually met his friends, you were very very busy with training for the next Olympics and another set of Championships in New Zealand when Logan was in F2, so you didn't see him in the paddock as much as you do now, and if you did you were nervous and kept to yourself.
"No, stop. I'm basically naked!" you exclaim looking down at your cleavage that wasn't well covered up by your bikini.
"Come on, lets go meet them. And get you a cover-up because I don't trust them" he laughs, placing a hand and the side of your neck before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You guys moved closer to each other to the point where you were basically sat on his lap. A wave a little to large came and toppled you both off the board making you both come up sputtering in shock.
You swim to where the water is knee deep and see three boys watching you.
"Oh" you mutter, knowing exactly who they were.
"Baby, these are my friends" he offers, grabbing your coverup and handing it to you so you could chuck it on.
"Yeah i gathered" you chuckle.
You spent the day with the boys, Oscar was the only one that could surf and you found yourself getting on with all of them, Oscar the most who became like a sort of Oceanic brother to you, being from Australia.
Arthur and Freddie were a whole other story, constantly flirting with you to try and get a rise out of Logan which you couldn't help but giggle at but always grab his hand, arm of leg in a comforting way to let him know none of it was affecting you.
"So, how are you feeling about the Paris Olympics?" Freddie asks as you were all sat around a bonfire, telling stories.
"Yeah confident, I'm excited to be able to participate in it for a second year running! Going for Gold and all that..." you grin.
"Well... we will all be there to watch you, right Logan?" Arthur grins, making you shake your head again.
y/user
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Liked by logansargeant, arthur_leclerc and oscarpiastri
y/user: Missing NZ P1🇳🇿🥝 but Miami and Hubby are treating me well P2-4 🇺🇸🦅
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logansargeant: Out of all the pictures you could have used of me on the beach … 😩
-> y/user: baby, I had sunburn in all of our ones 💋
-> logansargeant: but you make such a pretty tomato 🍅
-> y/user: outside for you tonight
-> logansargeant: arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, frederickvestiofficial I’m in the dog house boys, help me out!
-> arthur_leclerc: sounds like a you problem, Y/N looking radiant as always 🌸
-> oscarpiastri: maybe you shouldn’t have called your girl a tomato? You hit those Miami waves Y/N 🏄🏼‍♀️🌊
-> frederikvestiofficial: Y/N deserves better 🫣🫶🏼
williamsracing: incredible stuff from you! 🦋💙
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Instagram Story Caption:
I prefer the Miami sunsets 🌅
Taglist:
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