#charles' fashion corner
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📷 @/ultravioletrs5
#the fbi cap 😂#nahmias 24 yes that's correct. he's wearing it 24/7#charles leclerc#miami 2024#charles' fashion corner
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— little things about a relationship with f1 boys.
˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS
playfully pushing each other’s buttons simply because you can. feigning forgetting important days to surprise you later. falling asleep together to the sound of the rain. sports, video games, boardgames because a couple that plays together, stays together. laughing so hard you can’t breathe. unpredictable hugs. encouraging each others’ hobbies and interests. inside jokes. lots of it. so many couple selfies. wearing his hoodies and shirts. going on double dates. constantly doing movie marathons. saying “love you” at the end of every phone call.
˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO
lunch dates. living your best life together. laughing and singing freely. sweet little texts throughout the day to check in on you. “how was your day?” subconsciously pulling you closer in his sleep. lovingly looking at each other just because. sharing umbrella in the rain/sun. taking photos for each other. “goodbye” and “hello” kisses. road trips - sometimes spontaneous and sometimes carefully planned for weeks prior. running hands through each other’s hair. cooking and doing the dishes together afterwards. little foot massages. never forgetting to say “thank you” for the little things.
˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ
him looking at you when you’re not looking and the soft, comfortable eye contact when you catch him looking and neither looking away as you giddily smile at each other. him saving extra treats like chocolate or candy for you and slipping them in your pocket as a little surprise. him subconsciously sniffing your hair or neck before hugging you even tighter. tracing your features with his fingertips during afternoon cuddles by the window because he finds you so beautiful. always looking at each other first when you find something funny. conversations at midnight, at 3 a.m, at early in the morning, evening, afternoon. it’s falling a little more in love with each inner thought and idea shared. flirty and cheesy words exchanged just because. smiling and laughing till your faces and stomachs hurt.
˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC
stolen gazes in public that become stolen smiles then stolen kisses in the dark. even when surrounded by other people, his eyes always find you and yours him. loving each other’s company so much that you lose track of time; sitting at a corner table in a quaint little café — that later becomes your spot — talking about your ideas and thoughts and dreams for hours and hours until the waiter interrupts, asking you to order again or to leave. him instinctively putting his hand on your knee or on your waist when someone tries to flirt with you. surprise back hugs and soft kisses on the shoulder. innocent neck kisses in an attempt to tickle the other.
˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON
already acting like a married couple as well as best-friends. saying “honey, i’m home.” breakfast in bed. taking long walks together. watching tv while cuddling. soft laughter. him doing your manicures. soaking in the warm tub together. little glances at each other when in public, in your own little world. slow kisses. slow dances. fancy and traditional dinner dates. “we’re in this together.” taking things slow. giving each other fashion advice. going shopping together. trying on clothes and posing for each other. late night phone calls. wanting to be around each other so much that you make up excuses to have more time together before the date or the hang-out ends. him adoringly looking at you when you’re not looking. matching jewelry
˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI
being each other’s home and safe haven. casual pda; the hand-holding; having his arm slung over your shoulder; clinging onto his side while walking. leaning closer to each other to whisper inside jokes in public. secrets exchanged at 3 a.m under the covers, facing each other, fingers absentmindedly trailing on one another’s skin. knowing what the other is trying to say with just a look. looking at each other in public, not touching but feeling close. him adoringly watching you from the bed while you do your skincare in front of the vanity table; locking gazes in the mirror, playful smirks forming on your faces. innocent neck kisses. taking plenty of couple selfies/mirror selfies together. unintentionally matching outfits and laughing about it.
˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN
it’s acting like an old married couple. enjoying doing the mundane things together. making bad jokes then staring at each other and your faces breaking out in grins and soft laughter. saying one thing but meaning the complete opposite: it’s ‘i hate you’s with loving smiles. accepting each other’s flaws and falling even more in love for them. him giving you his hoodie so that you can wear it when you’re cold or use it as a makeshift blanket. him poking your sides at the most random moments and giving you a mischievous, teasing half-smile when you tell him to stop. facetime calls at night for ‘a few minutes’ that end up lasting for hours with you falling asleep on call and him taking screenshots of it to tease you later but also end up staring at your peaceful, sleeping face with the softest smile.
#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fanfic#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc headcanon#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fic#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic
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Across Every Universe
Well, this got away from me and then BAM - over 9k words. Uh, I will also be willing to pay for therapy if needed, oopsies. Anyway, please enjoy! I cried multiple times while writing this. All of my favorite things in life are rolled into this one fic.
Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! love you all <3
TAG LIST IS OPEN! - 14 SPOTS LEFT
(please send me a direct message to be added)
Earth 199999
“Mr. Verstappen?”
Max look up from the suit that he was currently working on. His eyes were blocked by his newest technological glasses that kept information in his fingertips.
He wanted to roll his eyes. This new assistant really didn’t get the memo of Do Not Disturb. Man, did he wish Kelly were still here. Yet, there was that unspoken rule of not dating your boss, so Max was happier with her being his girlfriend rather than assistant.
“Yes?” he muttered back, looking back down at the prototype reactor that should be 15% more powerful than the one he has now.
“Mr. Leclerc is here to see you.”
Max sighed as he threw the screwdriver down. “I told Charles that I was to not be disturbed.”
The assistant shrank back but continued on, much to his annoyance. “He said it was urgent. Something about Case 89?”
That got Max’s attention right away. He abruptly stood up, knocking down a few things on his desk as he rushed past his assistant.
“Cancel the rest of my meetings today.”
“But sir, you have a call with the president and a public appearance…”
Max twirled around. “I said, cancel everything.”
A large gulp sounded as he stared down at the incompetent helper. Maybe he could convince Kelly to come back.
“Yes sir.”
With that, Max stalked down the hallway to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button for the top floor. He checked his watch, making sure the technology was there. Specifically, the watch could change into a powered glove if he needed it. And he sure hoped he wouldn’t. The elevator sounded when he finally reached the floor.
He was barely out of the small box when three pairs of eyes were on him.
“Took you long enough,” a Monegasque accent sounded.
With a roll of his eyes, Max rebutted, “My assistant doesn’t get the meaning of my orders.”
A squawk of a laugh came from the corner.
“You think that’s funny Lando?” Max quipped as he turned to his right.
A curly hair Brit sat on a table, feet put together like he was stretching his inner thighs.
“Everything is funny Max when you don’t have a stick up your ass,” Lando responded as he slid off the table.
“This is not the time for laughs and games gentlemen,” another British accent sounded.
Charles finally spoke again. “I apologize Director Horner.” He shot a stare at Lando. “It won’t happen again.”
While this was happening, Max had taken a step to his computer. His fingers danced over the keyboard and brought up surveillance footage from downstairs. His eyes flickered up to look at his two “companions” and, well, his boss per say.
The Monegasque was in his “get up” as Max called it. The multiple layers of ancient looking clothes disguised his figure. His red cape floated behind him and a green jewel seemed to glow behind its eye-like holder around his neck.
Lando was dressed a skin tight red and blue suit. A web-like pattern covered its entirety and a spider lay resting on his chest. The face piece was tossed on the couch behind the table where he previously sat. His fingers twitched and flexed with lack of motion.
Director Horner was draped in his regular black trench coat. Black shoes, black shirt, and black pants accompanied the fashion piece. His hair was kept and gelled. The most distinct item was a black eye-patch that covered his right eye. No one knew how he got it, but the three claw marks that started at his eyebrow gave Max a few hints. There was that old encrypted file that mentioned something about a flerken.
“So what are we working with?” Max questioned as the correct surveillance footage came up. On the screen was a clear box, with what looked like a person sitting in the farthest corner. Long hair covered their face as it was tucked into their knees.
Charles did a motion with his arms. Golden strands danced around and flickered before they disappeared. Horner sighed and rubbed his brows as Charles let out a nervous chuckle.
Lando rolled his eyes before clicking something on his wrist. A pull up hologram flashed from his specialized watch.
There was a picture of a young girl and a list of lettering to the left of it.
Max crossed his arms, eyes hard and cold. Charles let out a little gasp as he quickly gazed the list.
Horner kept quiet.
Lando began to read off of the floating screen. “Her name is Y/n L/n. Twenty-two years old. An orphan. Lived in Brooklyn all her life.”
Max waved his hand in frustration. “We know this. I want to know why she flagged our radars and is currently in the most powerful containment cell we own.”
If he had a desk with papers all over in front of him, the papers would be on the floor in one clean swipe.
Lando sucked in a breath. “She killed 12 people in a freak accident.”
A video started to play.
The girl was surrounded by mass destruction. Smoke and fire filled the air. Bodies littered the floor. Yet, Max’s attention was on the black tendrils coming out of her back. They were a fluid type, moving around through the air like a fish in water. The girl seemed distressed as her hands were trying to stop the things coming out of her back.
The tendrils suddenly stopped and disappeared back from where they came from her back. The girl stopped, looked around, and looked right at the security cameras. A moment later, one large black tendril flew from her hand and cut the video.
Lando sighed when he put the hologram down. “She was found two days later, unconscious. The tendrils came out when the police found her. They seemed like they were trying to protect her. That’s when they called in Charles and I.”
“They were difficult to deal with, but seemed responsive to another protection spell that I was able to use to transport her,” Charles concluded.
Director Horner questioned, “Why was Norris called as well?”
Lando decided to answer for himself, “Well it is my jurisdiction and I’ve dealt with something like this before. Remember Eddie Brock. This symbiote seems to be of familiar decent.”
While the three others kept talk, Max continued to watch the scared girl. At this point a tendril had appeared and was almost trying to comfort you.
“I’m going to go talk to her.”
That shut the three up.
Charles looked at him with a weird gaze. “You don’t know what she can do.”
Max pointed at the screen.
“She’s a little girl who is probably scared to death of who we are and what we might do to her. She’s probably thinking that she’s going to die in the next few days.”
“I’ll go with. I’ve seen this before. I lost my friend because of this thing. I won’t let it take another life,” Lando confessed. A hard look on his face.
“Then it’s settled. Lando lets go.” Max turned to leave, Lando hot on his tail. Charles and Director Horner stayed behind and continued to look at the file.
The elevator took Max and Lando down to the locked floor. Max clicked a few buttons on his watch and used his fingers to wrap the glove around it. The whir of the machine sounded as it warmed up.
“I will give a signal if I think the subject will engage. I need you up in the sky.” Max stepped out of the metal box.
Lando nodded. “On it.”
When the two got to the door, Max swiped a card. The door opened and Lando started to climb the walls. Once at a significant height, Lando stopped and hung on with one foot and one hand. His other hand was ready to shoot a web to swing in.
Max slowly walked over.
In the time that Max and Lando had taken to get down there, the tendril had disappeared. But to Max’s surprise, the girl was looking right at him. Without any fear, Max opened the door, stepped over, closed it, and sat down on the opposite side of her.
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered, visibly shaking.
Max was taken back.
“Excuse me?”
You looked him dead in the eyes.
“When do you plan to kill me?”
Max looked with sad eyes. What had you gone through for that to be the first question to run through your mind? He shook his head.
“I’m not going to kill you. No one is going to kill you. We have an offer for you actually.”
It was now time for you to look confused.
“There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more.”
You inhaled. “To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight battles that we could never.”
Max smirked.
You shrugged your shoulders. “I’ve heard the speech on the news.”
“What’s your name?”
“Y/n. Y/n L/n.”
“Welcome to the team kid.”
From a small window above, the sunset cast a small sliver of orange light into the room. It illuminated the small space between you and Max, almost acting as a bridge from the past to the new present.
Earth 2113
A grunt left Max’s lips as he threw another knife at the tree. He had been in this cove for a few hours. The stream provided him with much needed fresh water. He was able to take a mock shower, but it only reminded him of the sweet lake that he had back home.
Home.
It felt like a foreign concept.
Weeks had passed since he had last been there. It was supposed to be his last year until he aged out. But really, the odds were never in his favor.
His name was in there 68 times.
Year before, his name had been in there even more times. Not once was his name chosen. But, this year it had been.
How he wished to return back to his own trees, and use an ax instead of the knife he was currently twirling.
A snap of a branch had him shoot up, knife raised ready to throw. His eyes darted around his utopia that might soon become bathed in blood.
As he turned to his right, his eyes met big round ones.
Your small frame was frozen in fear. The rushing sound of water had mocked you long enough. You were so thirsty.
Max watched as you glanced at the river and then back to him. His tense shoulders relaxed once he realized what you were here for.
He slowly brought the knife down, as to not scare you.
“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”
You did not seem convinced, but you seemed less scared.
“Go on.”
That seemed to do the trick as you darted over and started to fill a water bottle first.
Smart, Max thought.
He had seen you a couple times during training. The twelve year old from District 11. Small, witty, scared. Your eyes always seemed to be filled with tears during training. However, you seemed determined for someone who probably knew that they wouldn’t win the games.
“Thank you,” you whispered after you had gotten your fill of the water. In your outstretched hand was an apple. “Got it from the big pile.”
Max stared at it. His stomach said yes, but his head said no. The rational side said it probably wasn’t poisoned, but the back of his mind tried to convince him that it was.
“I have another one. I can eat it first?”
Max nodded at the offer and you took a bite. He waited for a few minutes, waiting for you to keel over. Except it never happened. You ate the entire apple happily. Max liked to wonder if you might have enjoyed an apple in school before all this. Maybe your hair would be put in two pigtails, done by your mother with a kiss on the forehead.
He finally took the apple and his stomach and brain were both happy.
This seemed to be their little thing that happened in the next few days.
Max would wait by the river just before the sun started to set. And you would somehow show up with two shiny apples.
He thinks at this point they might be from sponsors. He had one main sponsor, a man named Christian, who kept supplying him with different small knives and a few things here and there. The two of you would fill your water bottles and eat the apples.
He had gotten you to giggle a couple of times, which lifted his spirits. You taught him which plants were edible, and he taught you how to properly throw a knife. He had given you one of his for safe keeping. But he really hoped that you’d use it if you the time came. Blood on your hands would kill his soul. Yet, he’d rather keep you alive then have you die.
One night, you had fallen asleep on his chest while the two of you watched the late night slide show of who died that day.
Apparently, there were four left including you and him. Your small puffs of air hit his face as he finally closed his eyes. He thought it was funny how you fit perfectly in his arms. His mind wandered to his girl back home in District 8. He wondered if he’d ever have a kid like you that would fit between him and her.
The sound of a boom woke Max up. His arms curled protectively around air. When he noticed, he shot up. Taking no time, he grabbed his bag and knife that was attached to a long stick.
“Kid?” he yelled out, voice straining.
“Kid?” Another shout as he ran.
“Kid?” Shouting, Max jumped over tree stumps and through brush.
He stopped.
“Kid?”
A whisper.
You stood with your back to him. His eyes glanced to what lie in front of you.
A body was faced down. Max sighed in relief. That cannon was not for you.
“Kid, don’t ever do that…again.”
You had finally turned around at the familiar and safe voice.
Max’s heart plummeted at the sight of tears in your eyes, red patch that was slowly growing on your t-shirt, and bloody hands. His backpack and stick dropped to the ground.
A ring vibrated through his ears as he rushed to catch you before you fell to the ground.
“Kid?” Max asked as you looked up at him. Your small hand reached up and touched his face, leaving a bloody trail on his cheek.
“I did it just like you showed me Maxie. Now you can win.”
Max smiled, with tears streaming down his face. The some that fell on you were wiped with his trembling fingers.
“Of course you did.”
Your big eyes stared up at him. “Are you proud of me?”
Such a big question for such a small girl.
“Always,” he whispered back.
“Can you tell me that story? About the big lion and little lion? One more time?”
He let out a wobbly breath.
“Once upon a time, there was a big lion that lived in a forest. He had about 19 other lions, but he was really a loner. The other lions weren’t good friends with the big lion. He felt like he was miles away and no one could touch him.”
He noticed your eyes start to slowly glaze over and he tried to keep going.
“The lion was very lonely and sad, but one day, the world decided to give him a friend: a little lion.”
The cannon boom stopped his story in its tracks. His arms curled around you as he wailed. He wailed and wailed, not caring who could see him.
After a few moments, he gulped down his cries.
“And the lion was finally happy with the cub. He didn’t need any other friends. As long as he had the little one, he’d be ok. And the big lion and little lion left toward the sunset and were friends forever.”
He leaned down to give your little head a farewell kiss.
A few hours later, Max was declared the victor of the 89th Annual Hunger Games. As the helicopter that carried him flew toward the sunset, Max let tears drip down his face freely. He knew his little lion was finally safe.
Always walking toward the sunset, waiting for the big lion to join.
Earth 2230
“Ah Master Charles, glad you could make it,” Lando said snarkily as he sat in his seat.
“Sorry, my padawan had many questions and kept me in the library for too long,” the man confessed as he took his seat next to Lando’s.
“Oscar is the same way. What is with these trainees wanting to spend hours and hours in the library?” Lando’s head was leaned back in mock annoyance.
Master Carlos, who sat across from the curly-haired man smirked. “You were like that once when you were my padawan Lando.”
A scoff escaped Lando’s lips. He turned back to Charles.
“How is Arthur handling everything?”
Charles smirked. “He cried when we had to cut his hair.”
“Well, he will get used to it,” a new voice piped up. The man had curly hair, like Lando’s, but a big gummy smile was plastered on his face.
“Daniel, you don’t understand. He was inconsolable.” Charles’s hands raised in frustration.
“Does anyone know why we were summoned? And where is Max and Master Horner?”
The doors slid open and two figures walked in.
“We’re sorry for out tardiness Master Alonso. We had some trouble in the elevators.” Christian sent Max a knowing look that was returned with an eye roll. Max huffed as he sat down in his chair next to Charles.
Once seated, Christian began to talk.
“Well, I guess you’re wondering why we were all summoned here today.”
A snort came from Lando, who quickly shut up after he received a glare from Carlos. He sank back into his chair.
Christian continued. “Master Vettel and Master Räikkönen think they’ve found the chosen.”
Murmurs began to spread around the room. Annoyed with the added noise, Max was the one who spoke up.
“Silence.”
The room quieted.
Daniel was the one to lean forward. “How do they think they’ve found the chosen? It’s just a prophecy that has been collecting dust for centuries.”
Christian rubbed his face. “All they said was that they felt a disturbance in the force when they visited Naboo for their diplomatic mission. They went to investigate and the force grew stronger the closer they got to the capital center.”
A hologram erupted from the middle. It was a map of the center with an undergrown view as well. A red beacon signaled from deep down. Max’s finger pointed at it.
“Underneath they found an illegal human trafficking ring that dealt with children with force sensitivity. When they got there, most of leaders had been knocked unconscious. In the middle was a girl. They said the force just pulsated off her being.”
Christian picked up from there. “They’re bringing her in in just a few moments. She’s been debriefed about everything and is willing to join the cause.”
Lando looked intrigued. “Who’s going to be her master.”
Max leaned back in his chair. “I am.”
A scoff echoed, but it wasn’t from Lando this time. It was from Master Hamilton. Max tilted his head and cast his gaze on the older Master.
“Have something to say Lewis?”
Lewis rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t someone more,” he paused, “advanced in their Master roll be given the chosen as their padawan?”
Charles spoke up. “Like you?”
“Yes,” came the answer from the man.
Carlos spoke, “But you just brought on your own padawan. I don’t think poor George would be too keen on losing a Master so close to his choosing.”
“But you shouldn’t give the chosen over to another child.”
Max stood up in anger. “I’ve been through the trials. I am as much of a Master as you are.”
“Enough,” a new voice roared as the doors to the room opened.
They all stood up and sightly bowed their heads.
“Master Vettel. Master Räikkönen.”
Behind the two stood a teenage girl. Robes already adorned her body. Her hair was tied in traditional high braids, and a smaller, thinner one draped over her shoulder, showing her status.
Kimi took his seat in one of the center chairs, but Sebastian stood in the middle with the girl.
“As you all have probably been briefed by Master Horner, this is Y/n.”
You took a step forward and kneeled before the council. Sebastian took a step around you and sat in his seat.
“You may rise.”
You did as you were told and took a minute to briefly glance at the council of masters. Each one of them winced at the force energy that seemed to just radiate off of you. Well, all of them except one. Your eyes met his electric blue ones. He sent you a comforting smile, which you didn’t have time to send one back before Sebastian spoke.
“State your name for the council.”
You inhaled shakily. “My name is Y/n L/n, from Coruscant.”
Charles leaned towards you, elbows on his knees. “But you were brought here from Naboo.”
You winced at the mention of the name. The masters could feel your distress and Max wanted nothing more than to elbow Charles for that insensitive question.
“I was taken, Master, from my home planet and enslaved for the past three years.”
Charles grimaced at your answer and leaned back, staying silent for the rest of the meeting.
Kimi sent you a small smile before he cleared his throat. “We have brought you here to begin your padawan training.”
That must have comforted you since the force wasn’t buzzing as much around you. The masters were now at ease.
Max wanted to talk, since he was going to be your new master, but he was interrupted by what he thought was a grating voice.
“So, are you the chosen one?” Lewis questioned, eyes slitted as he looked at you.
Your ease was now slowly vanishing as you were under the scrutiny of the master. Your gulp was heard through the room. Lando felt bad as he once had been under the same gaze when he was a Padawan. He tried to send you comforting signals through the force.
“I don’t know for sure if I’m the chosen. I’m just thankful to be alive at this point Master. And I don’t enjoy being picked apart before I even know what I am to begin with.” Your voice had risen in annoyance. “Sir.”
Max smirked. He didn’t need to look around, he knew the others were also smirking or trying not to laugh.
Sebastian spoke next. “Y/n, we would like you to pick your master.”
Max wanted to jump and shout that you were already supposed to be his padawan, but Christian’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.
Your tired eyes looked around the room.
The master with the thick dark hair and tanned skin looked promising, but you could feel that he already had a want for another padawan. He gave off the same energy as the boy with similar hair that you had passed on your way here. His friends called him Rafael.
Across from him, curly hair caught your attention. But you also felt that he already had what he was looking for.
Same as the man with the short goatee and green eyes. You felt a familial energy reach out to someone, probably a brother close by. You wouldn’t want to separate them.
The other curly-haired man showed you a smile that rivaled the sun. Once again, his force energy was already attached, but it seemed he had two. Not rare, but it was weird to feel the force branch like that.
You had already asked Master Vettel and Räikkönen if you could be there padawan, but they had declined.
The dark man in the corner was giving you mixed signals that gave you a headache. His energy was split. The one that was attached was waning at you looked at him, almost as if he was trying to break it. At that moment you decided not to choose him. Because if he wasn’t 100 percent sure with his chosen, how could he be sure with you.
Your gaze finally landed on the blue eyed man that had sent you a smile. His force energy felt like it was vibrating at the same frequency as yours. Which helped it melt into a smooth rhythm.
When it had stilled, you heart, mind, and force had chosen.
Max felt it the moment your signature became still for the first time since you stepped foot into the room.
The other masters, except one, smiled at you. They all stood and left one by one until it was just you and your chosen in the room.
He stood up and walked toward you.
Your head bent in a quick bow. “Master.”
“You can call me Max.”
Your brows furrowed. “Is that allowed?”
Max only smirked. “Who cares. I’m your master now. My rules are your rules.”
You flashed him a smile. “Ok…Max.”
A grin crept onto his face. “You ready to save the galaxy kid?”
With a nod, you two shook hands.
The sunset filled the room as your silhouette became black shapes. Nothing would be better than the orange and pink casts from your home planet as you started your new life as “The Chosen” or better as “Master Verstappen’s Kid.”
Master and Padawan Pairings:
Max and Y/n
Charles and Arthur
Carlos and Rafael (FAD)
Lando and Oscar
Daniel and Liam with Yuki
Lewis and George
Not mentioned – Alex and Logan
Former Christian and Max
Former Toto and Lewis
Former Jules and Charles
Former Carlos and Lando
Earth 934
1991
Your eyes glanced around the big train as you tried to find an open seat. Your hands clutched your bag as you kept walking further and further toward the back. You sighed in relief as you finally noticed a room with no one in it. You softly opened the door and slid in. Both seats were empty.
Taking a minute to breathe, you stared out at the vast country side that the train passed through. You almost fell asleep, but the sudden open and close of the car door made you jump. Your head turned toward the intruder.
A boy, possibly older than you since he already had his robes, was leaning against the now closed door. He took a deep breath before his blue eyes landed on you.
“Hi,” you said, not wanting the air to be filled with awkward silence. The boy did not reply, but he did go over and sat on the opposite bench of yours. Your folded your arms. He dared to interrupt your quiet and not respond.
You opened your mouth to speak once again, but he beat you to it.
“My name is Max. Sorry for interrupting whatever you had going on.”
Your mouth closed at his confession.
“What do they call you kid?”
“I’m not a kid. I’m twelve years old.”
Max rolled his eyes. “Which makes you a kid. You’re two years younger than I am.”
“That makes you fourteen. And by technicalities, you would be a kid as well.” You huffed, not enjoying the teasing from the older boy.
Max pouted. “Just tell me your name.”
It was your turn to roll your eyes.
“It’s L/n. Y/n L/n.” A smirk crept on your face and Max’s mouth dropped open. He leaned forward, almost as if to tell you a secret.
He whispered. “Do you have, the, you know?”
Your small hand came up and brushed your little bangs away. There, on your forehead was a lightning bolt shaped scar. It wasn’t like a cartoon shape as it had little bolts that stretched out across and down, but stopping at your eyebrow.
“Wow,” Max managed to breathe out. “What house do you reckon you’ll get?”
You shrugged. “Well, my parents died and I was adopted by a muggle couple and they were awful. So I really don’t know what the houses actually stand for.”
Max looked angry for a moment. “Well, that’s bloody terrible for you have to gone through that. I hope that you’ll get into my house.” He pulled on his green and silver tie. “One of my friends, his name is Lando, is also in Slytherin. But then you have my best friend Daniel in Hufflepuff, Charles is in Gryffindor with his brother Arthur. You’d have to watch out for Lewis though in Ravenclaw, he’s a bit extreme.”
You took a moment to absorb all of his words.
“I think I’d like to stay with you or one of your friends.”
The 14-year-old was elated at the statement. “We’ll see what happens.”
1997
Your mind often went back to that conversation years ago. It was maybe the last time you ever felt safe anywhere. Hogwarts was supposed to be your home, yet here it lay destroyed.
That fateful night you had not been chosen to be a part of the Slytherin house, but thankfully you were placed in Gryffindor with Arthur and Charles. They took care of you like a family should have. Max also stayed super close to the three of you. Whether it was going to Honey dukes, playing quidditch, or even making potions in Headmaster Horner’s class, the four of you were together.
Your wand twirled in your hand as you sat on some broken steps. The once beautiful ceiling had giant holes in it that made way for the night sky. Tears streamed down your face as you pondered your next step.
It had gone downhill so quickly.
Lewis, as it turns out, had given your location away to Toto, who had wanted you dead since you were just a baby. He was the one to kill your parents and “bless” you with the mark on your head. The betrayal had sent shivers down everyone’s spine.
Many people had been killed because of you.
Charles and Arthur’s brother Jules had been hit by a stray spell. Their screams and wails were now permanently engraved in your brain.
Max’s girlfriend Kelly, a nice Hufflepuff, had been attacked by a rogue werewolf. She was still alive, but barely.
Your two Ravenclaw friends, Alex and Logan, were found under some rubble, hands clenched together as to share pain before death. You remembered how Oscar, another Ravenclaw who hung out with you and Lando, sobbed into the latter’s shoulder for hours after he found his blond best friend.
Your friends had died to protect you and you had done nothing.
At this thought, your mind was made up.
Toto wanted one thing, and one thing only: for you to die. For the umpteenth time your mind wandered to his ultimatum that he had given you earlier that evening.
“Y/n L/n. I know that you know that you are trapped now with nowhere to go. Come to the forbidden forest tonight and I will cease all fighting on my end. The rest of your friends won’t have to die due to your insubordination and fear. When you come, be prepared to die.”
His snake-like voice had been broadcast through the minds of everyone. Before he had even finished, you took your leave, not wanting to watch as another family wept over a dead brother or sister.
With shaky legs, you stood up and brushed your skirt. Your face showed your determination as you began to walk down the steps. But as your foot hit the actual floor, a body rammed into yours.
“Kid!” A voice from farther away yelled, accompanied by quick footsteps.
A quick glance at the hair that was attached to the body now in your arms let you know it was Arthur. Over the top of his head, you noticed Max and Charles running toward you.
They were quick to also put their arms around you.
Max maneuvered your face so that you were looking him in the eyes.
“Kid, we have to go now before he decides to attack again. Arthur and Charles know a way out. Let’s go.”
He thought that you had agreed as he turned around to leave. Charles followed him, and Arthur tugged on your hand, as if to lead you away.
Yet, you stayed put and Arthur’s hand slipped from yours.
“Y/n?” he asked, looking back with tears in his eyes. You gave him a crooked smile as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over.
You tilted your head in the opposite direction. That’s when it hit the three men. You had already made up your mind.
“No, no, no, no. You can’t,” Max choked out the last word.
“I have to Max. I won’t let another one of our friends die because of me. I can’t risk Daniel leaving you or have Lando taken from Oscar right after Logan.” You looked at the two brothers. “I can’t let you two lose each other. I won’t let that happen to your mom.”
Charles looked at your with sympathy swarming his green eyes. He slowly walked toward you and gave you a hug. While you were in his arms, his lips met your forehead. You knew that was going to be his goodbye.
Arthur was next. He pleaded as he curled his arms around you. “Let me go with you. Let me walk with you. I swear I’ll leave before...before...”
Your hand was slowly placed on his cheek as you shook your head. Another sob escaped his lips and a new tidal wave of tears left his and your eyes. “I can’t risk you. Please, stay with Charles.”
Arthur begrudgingly nodded, but not before placing a light kiss on your lips. A small smile graced your face as you tried to kiss back through the tears. When the two of you parted, he looked down at you, a sad smile now replacing his frown.
“Please try to come back to me.” With that, he turned around and left. Charles gave Max a knowing look before he took after his brother.
It was just you and your oldest friend.
Max came over and put his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t give you a hug, or a long speech, or a kiss on the forehead like he usually did when he had to leave you at the train station before every summer. He just looked at you before his eyes glanced at your wand. You thrust it in his hands.
“Take care of them for me?”
“Always.”
“Tell Lando that he can have whatever is in my house. I know he was looking at my Nimbus RB20 the other day.”
“Always.”
“And Max?”
A hum answered as Max couldn’t find the strength to speak.
“Watch the sunsets for me?”
“Always.”
Finally, you rushed into a hug. Max’s arms couldn’t get any tighter around your form. With one last squeeze, you broke the hug and turned away, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. Your walk to the forest was quick, as you wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
There, suddenly in front of you in all his ugly glory, was Toto. Lewis was to his side, looking rather ashen probably with fear. Even though he betrayed you, you tried to send a comforting smile his way.
“Are you ready to die?” The snake-like voice hissed.
“Yes.”
There was a moment between the yell of “Avada-Kadavra” and when the spell hit you. There, you knew peace. Your body hit the forest floor with a thud.
Arthur, who was still back at the castle suddenly inhaled sharply. Charles, scared for his younger brother’s sanity, knelt next to him.
“What is it?”
Max, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel all crowded around the younger boy.
He could only whisper.
“She’s gone.”
There was no time for mourning as someone screamed out in the courtyard. The group of boys rushed out and what they saw made them stop in their tracks. Headmaster Horner, who had been taken a few days ago, now carried your limp body for all to see.
“Y/n L/n is dead!”
“No!” your friend Lily screamed, but was quickly held back by Oscar.
“Silence. Foolish girl,” Toto hissed.
Arthur turned and put his head on Charles’s shoulder and wept, not caring anymore.
“She’s not dead.” Everyone’s heads turned to Max, who had his wand pointed at the dark wizard. “She’s alive,” he gulped, “in all of us. She wouldn’t want us to give up. She’d want us to continue, even when everything seems dark. And I won’t let her die in vain.”
Toto cocked his head. “Well then, you’ll die along with her.” He pointed his wand at the blue eyed boy, except a large explosion knocked him down. Your rolled out of Christian’s arms and ran toward Max, all while shooting a spell at the downed wizard.
The students and teachers all ran in different directions. The battle was back on.
Instead of running away, Max ran to you. He met you halfway and held you at a distance.
“You came back Kid.”
“Always.”
Earth 7521
“When will he get back?”
Logan stopped his machete in the air. You and he had been out in the sun for a couple of hours, trying to carve poles for the new housing system.
“He’ll get back before the sun goes down.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” Your gaze was cast at the big wall with the giant gap in the middle. What went beyond was your guess as you hadn’t been there, and technically you weren’t allowed to go. You’d chosen to be a woodworker, not a runner.
Logan sighed. He had sworn that he’d take care of the new greenie, but this isn’t exactly what he signed up for.
“Max always gets back right at the gate closes. Has done every day since I got here. He comes in with Alex and they’ll go to the map room.” He really tried to ease your conscience. You had all but attached yourself to the boy since you got here. He couldn’t blame you since Max was really the first one that you saw. He was the same with Alex, as was Oscar with Lando and Max with Daniel.
Your brows furrowed. “But Alex just got back and Max isn’t with him.”
Logan dropped his machete and it thumped in the grass. His head jerked over to where you were looking. There, the Thai runner had just crossed the threshold of the giant gate, but the Dutch runner was nowhere to be found.
“Stay here,” he demanded, but really didn’t expect you to obey. Anything that had to do with Max, you would find out one way or another. A large groan came from the giant wall, signaling that it was about to close.
Logan hastened his pace and heard your footsteps try to keep up with him. As he got near, Lewis and Lando both crowded around Alex. The blond picked up on their conversation.
“Where’s Max?” Lando questioned as his eyes kept flickering between the hunched over runner and the wall.
Alex sucked in a breath. “We got separated. A griever was out in the open.”
Multiple gasps came from others as a crowd had formed.
Lewis’s eyes widened. “But grievers don’t come out in daylight.”
Alex had a sullen look. “I know.”
Lando cast another glance at the metal gate that let out another groan and a shake. This time, the doors were slowly closing.
“So we’re just going to leave Max in there?” Lando gestured.
Lewis looked down at the ground and nodded. A silence went over the group as they were now preparing to mourn the loss of one of their family.
Logan’s heart sunk. You must have been devasted. He turned around to where you were supposedly.
“I’m so s-…Y/n?” His head whipped around trying to find you. His heart sunk even further as his eyes finally found you, right in front of the closing doors. “Y/N!”
Now you had everyone’s attention.
“Greenie!” Lewis yelled.
You simply turned your head and looked at the leader. “I got to go save Max.” It was as if you were explaining a simple toy to a toddler, like it was a matter of fact.
“Max is gone Kid. We can’t lose you too,” Lando tried to negotiate and distract you as the doors got closer and closer together.
The doors were so close to closing and Lando thought he was successful. Well, until you bolted and squeezed through the slit. Multiple boys called out for you but it was too late, the doors closed. Logan ran to the metal wall and hit his fist on it multiple times.
On the other side for you, it was silent. An eerie type and not comforting. You tried not to get distracted at the maze-like sequence of walls that stood before you.
Right. You needed to find Max, and fast.
Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you silently ran and didn’t call out Max’s name. It felt like hours before you finally found him. Your eyes watched as his tried to curl up more, to make himself smaller.
“Maxie?” you whispered.
His head shot up, eyes wide as you walked closer to him.
“Kid? What the hell are you doing here?” he whisper yelled back. You took a seat next to him.
“I couldn’t leave you out here alone.”
Max let out a sigh. “Well, now we’ll both be dead by morning.”
You looked down at his bloodied leg. “What happened?”
“Alex and I were mapping like always when a griever jumped out. They’re not supposed to be out in the daylight, but they were. I ran right and Alex went left. I thought I got away but I tripped. I think my ankle is sprained or broken. Couldn’t make it back to camp.”
You absorbed the information before you stood up and took a vine down from the wall. The middle was stiff like a branch and the smaller vines attached to the leaves were bendable. You quickly made work of Max’s ankle and tied the stiff vines to his leg.
“This should give you enough support so we can get back.”
Max looked at you with wide eyes. “You’re good at this. Why didn’t you become a medjack?”
You giggled as you helped him to his feet. “I couldn’t stand the tension between Nico and Lewis anymore and Logan seemed inviting enough.”
That got a little laugh out of Max.
The two of you made your way to the gate where you camped out all night.
“Thank you kid. I’d be dead without you,” Max mentioned when the doors opened the next morning.
“I know. Look Max, the sunrise!”
“Thanks kid. You know they’re my favorite.”
Two years later
Those days in the Glade were much better than what you’d been through in the past two years. From running through the desert and being chased by zombie people to now sneaking into the giant headquarters to find some type of cure.
Your eyes were now on Max as his head swayed back and forth. He didn’t look good as his face was drenched with sweat.
It had been about a week since he told you that he had been infected. You had cried and cried, promising to find a cure. But that promise seemed to be so far away as you were nowhere closer to finding it.
“Hold on Maxie,” you whispered as you tried to keep him upright. His head was now perched on your shoulder as you continuously looked up in the sky, looking for the rescue helicopter. Charles had disappeared once someone told him that his blood was the cure. He had promised to be back quickly, and that was an hour ago.
Max didn’t have much time left.
A thumping in the air caught your attention as you gently placed him back against a wall. Black goup now started to run out of his mouth. You gently wiped it away before placing a kiss on his forehead.
“Here they come Maxie. Just a few minutes more.” You stood up and turned to try to wave the helicopter in your direction. Your smile grew as it now began to get closer and closer.
“Max we’re going to be…ok.” As you now faced Max, confusion and fear glossed over your figure as he now stood a few feet away from you. His body twitched as his head swayed back and forth.
“Max?”
Your voice seemed to snap Max out of whatever trance he was in as he sudden rushed toward you and knocked you down. You thought this was it as Max’s hands harshly roamed and grabbed at your body. His hands stopped as he found your gun.
He was quick to cock it and bring it to his head. Your hands were quicker and you knocked it out of his hands and it slid across the floor. Max growled down at you and jumped to go get it, but your hands yanked him back. You grabbed the gun and pointed it at your friend.
Your heart broke as you looked at his sickly nature. His eyes cleared to that pretty blue that once always covered his eyes with kindness swarming in the storm. But now, he looked at you with a pleading nature.
“Please, Kid. Please,” he begged, but you couldn’t pull the trigger.
The clearness was quickly wiped away as you finally lost your friend. He managed to get up and sling the gun out of your head. Somehow, he had gotten a knife from his pack on his body and he came swinging. The two of you fought for a moment, before Max suddenly went still.
Oh.
Why did he stop?
Max stumbled back and you finally saw.
Oh.
Your lips quivered as you tried to slow his fall to the ground. You gently laid his head on a rock. He wheezed as he looked up at you. The helicopter wind picked up and your hair started to dance around your face.
Max closed his eyes and his chest rose, fell, and froze.
Your scream was silenced by multiple yells and the deafening sound of the chopper that had finally come. Hands grabbed your arms and ripped you away from your friend. You tried to fight and claw your way back, but the team was too strong.
They sat you down in a seat and allowed you to just cry.
Your eyes caught glimpses of orange and yellow out the open door of the flying machine.
Max would have loved the sunrise.
Earth 1217
“Y/n!” The yell of your team principal caught you attention.
“Yeah?” You set down your race notebook and walked down the office hall. Yes, you hated office days, but at Red Bull you wanted to go over everything that involved you. Call it a bit of a prima-donna attitude, but you weren’t a five time champion or Red Bull’s golden girl for nothing.
“I wanted to take you out to the track. The new recruit is doing his testing laps for next season,” the older Brit mentioned as you joined him in walking down the hallway.
You turned your head. “I though Daniel was up for Checo’s seat?”
Christian sighed and looked down as the two of you walked passed the trophy shelves. Most of them were from you.
“Daniel said he didn’t feel comfortable enough to handle our car. Maybe in a few years after he gets back in the groove in the Alpha Tauri, but not now.”
You snorted. “Guessing Charles is as comfortable as ever being the Prince of Mercedes?”
“Ah yes, your childhood friend-slash-rival did ask me to send his kind regards and told you to watch out for any puddles.” Your eyes rolled at the last statement.
“All right, talk to me. Who else did we ask before you texted me that only said ‘I found him’.”
Christian sighed as he backed his car out. The two of you had gotten to the parking lot in no time and were now headed to the track.
“Well, Lando just renewed his contract with Ferrari, same as Oscar. Lewis, well, he never responded and McLaren never got back to us. Most of them aren’t really looking to be second to you.”
“They’re just mad they’ve been dominated by a woman for five years straight and will be for another three. Maybe after that, someone can be number one.”
The car jerked as he parked it. You stepped out, tennis shoe hitting the ground. They really went well with what you normally wore: skinny jeans, a Red Bull Polo, and your number 1 hat.
The roar of the RB18 caught your attention as your eyes watched it zoom by. A bright yellow helmet caught your attention, but it went around the corner too quickly for you to watch.
Once at the mock garage, you met up with Mitch and junior race engineer GP. Apparently the new recruit had wanted to keep his engineer with him through everything. Which you understood as you brought Mitch over with you after your McLaren days.
“So is this Sargeant? His second place in the championship looked promising, but he was a bit slow,” you mentioned as your sunglasses covered eyes looked around. An angry looking man stood in the corner, bit headphones on his ears.
"No. It's not Sargeant. His name is Max Verstappen. He jumped from F3."
Your eyes narrowed at the big angry man who seemed like he wanted to take a fork to a mechanic. You leaned over to Christian. “My abusive-parent radar is going off. I want him out of the garage.”
Christian once again sighed. “I can’t throw our new driver��s father out of the garage on a hunch.”
You took a sip of your Red Bull. “You did it with my parents.”
“Y/n, they hit you in front of me. I had proof. Just wait a bit and we’ll watch him.”
You huffed. “Fine, but he doesn’t come to any debriefs or meetings.”
“Perfect.” He clapped his hands and your attention was now placed back at the newbie’s times. He was driving just a bit slower than you, but they were marginal tenths and hundredths behind.
Mitch, being the senior engineer, clicked a button. “All right Verstappen, bring it back in.”
“Got it. Thank you!”
You hummed. “Polite kid.”
Your RB18 pulled up and a scraggly kid jumped out of the car. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his dad got off his ass and started to come over. Not wanting anything to happen, you made your way to the boy, cutting him off.
He had just taken his helmet and balaclava off when you reached him. Christian came up and joined you. The boy finally noticed you and looked at you with a gaze of amazement.
“Max right?” you questioned and held out a hand to the Dutch kid.
He nodded, still trying to take in the sight of his role model right in front of him. That’s when he noticed that you were still waiting for him to take your hand. He yanked off a glove and shook your outstretched hand.
“Max Verstappen.”
“How old are you?” You took another sip of your Red Bull and offered Max one as well, who took it quickly.
“I’m nineteen, but I’m turning 20 at the end of September.”
You had a fond smile on your face. You knew what it was like to be thrust into this life at a young age. Hell, Christian took a chance on you when you were just seventeen.
“Who’s your favorite driver?” Mitch questioned, standing behind you. You knew she was teasing the boy as his face got red really quick.
He mumbled, “You.”
You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you look down at the boy. You went to say something else, but he beat you to it. You had a feeling that he might do it more often, but you didn’t mind.
“I, uh, just wanted to say that I’m perfectly fine with being number two driver. I know you’re on a mission to make it to 8 championships. And I’d like to help you do it.”
Your heart may have melted at the confession.
“Well, once I get my 8 championships, let me tell you what. We here at Red Bull like to be record breakers, so I’ll help you make it 9. Sound like a good deal?”
Max’s face lit up at the semi-promise of not just one championship, but nine!
“Sounds good.” A giggle left his lips.
The sun was setting as you were all called for a brief meeting so that Max could sign the contract. Orange and yellows blended in together and bathed the two of you in its glory.
“Ok then, welcome to the team kid!”
Earth 1218 – Present Earth
TikTok had become your addiction when you had spare minutes in your busy life. Videos passed by so quickly, you sometimes didn’t even register what it said. Thankfully though, you managed to not accidentally like anything that could harm your career before it barely got started.
One trend seemed to be very popular at this time. Your fingers would swipe through the photos of various TV and movie characters. The pictures on each slide had the same captions. One being “Do you think we’re together in every universe?” and the other “I sure hope so.”
You’d already asked Arthur and he just rolled his eyes.
“Of course we would be. I think you’re stuck with me wherever you are,” he had told you.
Yet, there was one driver who you really needed to ask. You had already seen versions of this made for multiple driver pairs. The ones of Charles and Max, Oscar and Logan, and Lando and Daniel always made you cry. You couldn’t help it.
But, the ones of you and Max always made your heart happy. You knew that you weren’t the easiest to take care of and you came with baggage. However, Max never made you feel bad about it: he did the opposite. Many times, he made you forget all the bad things in your life by just being there.
You sent him one of the generic ones from someone’s random account.
Little Racer
https.www.tiktok./KID89.192&MAX0133/
Do you think we’re together in every universe?
It took him a few minutes to respond since he was often busier than you were. The season was coming to an end, and his fourth championship was in his grasp.
Big Racer
I’m sure of it kid.
Can’t get rid of me that easily.
Little Racer
And you still probably type like a grandpa in every one too! :P
You laughed out loud when three middle finger emojis followed your text. Where you were sitting in the living room of your Monegasque apartment, the sunset caught your eye. You smiled as the rays nearly blinded you, but you were fine. The warmth spread across your cheeks as the rays kissed your face with softness.
You didn’t know what other versions there were of you. You honestly didn’t care. Because as long as you had Max, you’d be just fine.
Across every earth, galaxy, and universe you’d find yourself dreaming of a life you didn’t live, but could only imagine how good everything would be in the end.
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hi! could i get a oscar piastri x reader where he gets protective and touchy of reader when hes drunk? (he just gives the vibes) tysm!!💗💗
A/N: Oscar is the cutest bean. I tried girl, a lot harder to write a club scene without making it too cliche but I hope you like it xxx
Warnings: mild alcohol consumption, swearing (just once), sexual innuendo
It was after the Belgium grand prix. You don’t know how on earth Lando managed to convince Oscar to go out for the night especially after that DNF, but you weren’t going to question it. After being completely blinded by the camera lights, you step into the nightclub behind Oscar, keeping a tight grip to his hand. It was just as busy inside as outside, and seeing this, Oscar pulls you in front of him, placing his hand at the small of your back and guides you to the area with all the other drivers.
Once you and Carmen make eye contact, you both run to each other, engulfing the other in a hug. You exchange hellos with everyone and grab a seat, settling into the large couch. You were only at the Paddock for race day this weekend, so you had a lot of catching up to do with the girls. Oscar beside you, was doing the same with the other drivers.
While discussing Kika’s latest appearance in Fashion Week, you feel the similar warmth from the big hands you adore on your calf. You turn to look at Oscar and see he’s completely engaged in conversation with Lando and Charles but he absently runs his fingers up and down the lower half of your leg. You smile to yourself, thinking you know he gets touchy when he’s drunk, but especially after the bad race result, he would be double the amount of cuddly, and you couldn’t complain.
Deciding you’ve had enough champagne and needed something stronger, you and the girls get up to go to the bar. You lean down, placing a quick peck to the corner of Oscar’s mouth, “I’ll be back, just getting a drink.”
“Okay be careful,” he smiles, giving your hand a squeeze, and watches you walk away. To say he was worried you were going without him, was an understatement. Not that he didn’t trust you but that it was so busy in the club, he just didn’t want you to get hurt. Pierre, George and Charles feeling the same way about their girls; all 4 guys continue conversing but switch their gaze to watch the bar.
“Omg can you watch where your going jeez,” Kika mutters at a group of guys that push and shove their way through the crowd. You all roll your eyes and Carmen joins in.
“Forreal, it’ll kill them to say excuse me.”
As expected your boys tense and Pierre stands to get a better look but reassures the other boys once he notices you four walking back to your section.
Coming up the steps, you feel a hard gaze on you, and as you look up you confirm it, seeing Oscar’s eyes fixed on you. He reaches out his hand which you gladly accept, pulling you straight into him and onto his lap.
“Oscar!” You exclaim, some contents of your drink spilling over.
“Mhmm much better,” he sighs, pressing a kiss just under your ear. You melt right into him and get comfy. Turning to the left you look into his beautiful round eyes
“How are you doing bubs,” you ask trying to see if his mood has improved from earlier.
“Feeling great, it was a good idea to come out.”
“I’m glad,” you say pressing a slow sweet kiss to his lips. You can taste the tequila on him, confimring your thoughts that he’s a few drinks in, but he deserves to let loose especially after that crash today.
Speaking of, Carlos comes and sits beside you two, “Hey mate, my bad about earlier today. I just didn’t see you coming and turned in on you.”
Your glad Oscar isn’t as tense about this now as he was in the hotel, and he easily forgives Carlos and they continue chatting about other things. You look around, just taking in the night when Alex and Kika come running up to you, giggling and out of breath, “Sorry Oscar, we’re stealing her to dance,” they grab your hands and pull you up to head to the dance floor.
You turn, looking at a pouting Oscar and blow him a kiss, knowing he’s just being extra clingy today.
One song, two song, three songs pass, each better than the last.
“The DJ tonight really knows what he’s doing” Alex says, reading your mind.
“Don’t tell Lando,” you all break out into a giggle.
All the laughter quickly dies down when you see four guys approach you.
“You girls are too pretty to be here dancing by yourselves.”
“Yeah and we’re not, our boyfriends are right there,” Kika points to the section you left the boys.
“How about we give them a show then?” One of them smirks at you, moving in to grab your hips.
Carmen pulls you toward her, “Get off of her.”
Feeling very overwhelmed and uncomfortable, you try and spot Oscar at the booth but don’t see him, and suddenly the guys that approached you quickly scurry off. You turn the other way and see Charles, Oscar, Pierre and George all storming towards you. Damn you would not want to be on the receiving end of that you thought.
“What the fuck were they doing.”
“Are they stupid”
“Who do they think they are”
“I’m so glad we were watching the whole time.”
All 4 rightfully upset and checking over their girls to make sure they’re okay.
“Let’s go and talk to them,” Pierre starts.
You feel Oscar start to move behind Pierre and raise your eyebrows at him. Protective and touchy yes, but wanting to confront and start a fight, this was new.
“Yeah they’re not getting away with that babe,” he fights back. Already feeling overwhelmed, you don’t want the situation to escalate so you grab his bicep and squeeze, calmly shaking your head, “I’d rather you just dance with me.”
Instantly he melts seeing you look up at him through your long lashes. He sighs, letting you know he’s not happy with the decision but grabs your waist anyway and begans swaying you to the music, immediately calming you down.
“You’re lucky you look gorgeous right now and I can’t say no to you,” he says before pushing his lips onto yours, sensual yet passionate enough. A reminder for you and more for himself on who you belong to. He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, noses touching.
You blink up at him innocently, while biting your lower lip.“Really, well how about you show me just how lucky I am?”
A smirks quickly paints his face. “That’s it, we’re leaving” he announces.
You squeal and as he grabs you by the waist and starts pulling you towards the exit. You turn and wave at the girls but honestly all you can think about it how truly lucky you both are getting once you make it to the hotel.
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Whispers of love
⊹♡— In which y/n sees the ‘Beckham trend’ on TikTok and decides to test her boyfriend, Charles.
Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
Authors note: I’ve had this one in my drafts for a while but wasn’t sure if I liked it or not, but I thought today I might as well post it before I overthink it even more. It’s a very short one but I hope you like it regardless! On another note, Charles was so close to winning in Vegas I’m disappointed but also so proud of his drive he was absolutely incredible on track throughout the entire weekend, it’s a shame that safety car came in when it did.
Y/n couldn't shake off the excitement after watching the Beckham documentary. The scene of David and Victoria dancing together had left a lasting impression on her. Intrigued by the idea, she decided to test Charles, her boyfriend, in a similar fashion. Setting up her phone to discreetly record, she played "Islands in the Stream" by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers, hoping to recreate the magic.
As the music filled the kitchen, Y/n began to sway to the rhythm, trying to channel the effortless chemistry she had witnessed on screen. Lost in the melody, she couldn't help but smile, anticipating Charles' reaction.
Y/n, immersed in the music, gracefully moved around the kitchen, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sweet melody of. Unbeknownst to her, Charles had quietly entered the room. He leaned against the doorway, captivated by the sight of Y/n dancing with such joy and abandon.
For a couple of minutes, Charles simply watched, a soft smile playing on his lips. The love he felt for Y/n swelled within him as he observed her moves, completely lost in the music. The room seemed to be filled with an unspoken connection, the kind that words couldn't capture.
Y/n twirled, catching a glimpse of Charles out of the corner of her eye. She continued to dance, her heart fluttering with the knowledge that he was witnessing this spontaneous moment.
Charles, overcome with affection, stepped away from the doorway and silently made his way toward Y/n. He wrapped his arms around her, his chest against her back, joining her in the dance without saying a word. The embrace was tender, filled with unspoken emotions.
Y/n, feeling his presence, leaned back into Charles, a smile spreading across her face. The dance became a silent conversation, a language only they understood. The music played on, and their movements synchronized, creating a dance of love and connection.
The minutes passed, but time seemed to stand still in that quiet kitchen. Charles pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Y/n's forehead, expressing everything he felt without uttering a single word. They swayed together, surrounded by the warmth of the music and the love that enveloped them.
Lost in the rhythm of their impromptu dance, Y/n and Charles swayed together, wrapped in the soft embrace of the music. In a moment of quiet connection, Charles whispered, "I love you," and Y/n's smile widened so much that she couldn't resist turning around to face him. Her arms flung over his shoulders, and Charles, overwhelmed with affection, kissed her all over her face, savoring the joy reflected in her radiant expression. When their lips finally met, the kiss held the warmth of shared laughter and unspoken love. As they pulled apart, Y/n mirrored Charles's earlier sentiment, whispering, "I love you too," sealing the moment with a shared smile that spoke volumes about the depth of their connection.
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc one shot#formula 1 smut#Charles leclerc#Charles leclerc smut#formula 1#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc story#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 x female reader#charles leclerc x you
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Charles Leclerc imagine
In which you and your boyfriend go to a business party and two men try to seduce you.
Warnings: men trying to seduce you, a little bit of alcohol
Word count: 959
Dressed in all black accompanied with gold jewelry, you and Charles made you way to the entrance of the building in which you were invited to. Your fashion business had gotten really popular ever since it launched. You had already a decent reputation and Charles could only help with that. Of course, your boyfriend had advertised your business and you went really, really big.
Charles opened the door for you, as always, planting a small kiss on your cheek as you entered first. Everything looked amazing. Charles followed close behind you, making sure to not lose you in the crowd of people. You made your way to the reception, asking for directions to your business event.
"The room is gonna be on the fourth floor, on the right side. And also, just in case you need any more help, there are bodyguards present on the same floor as you're headed to. Have a fun time!" The receptionist smiled at us.
"Thank you!" You smiled at her, wrapping your arm around Charles', getting closer to him. He looked satisfied, but you didn't bother it and you made your way to the elevator.
"Fourth floor it is." You exhaled, feeling a bit stressed.
"Fourth floor indeed." Charles added. "Are you feeling okay?" He asked, lightly squeezing your thigh and looking down at you.
"Yeah, I'm just a bit stressed." You answered, letting out a sigh and looking down at the elevator floor.
"Everything is gonna be okay. We're gonna have a nice time. Plus, I'm here for you. If you want to go, just tell me and we'll get out of here anytime." Charles comforted you, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you towards him. He grabbed your chin and kissed your lips. You kissed him back immediately.
"Oh wow!" A man said, entering the elevator. You hadn't noticed the doors that had opened right in front of you.
"Sorry!" You said, pulling Charles out with you. You heard your boyfriend laugh behind you and you turned around. "That was really embarrassing."
"It was funny, mon amour. Kinda risky too. I loved it." (my love)
You rolled your eyes playfully and decided to go explore the floor a bit more. There were in fact some security guards near a small café corner. You looked around and made your way to a hallway that led to multiple rooms. On the left side were another business' name and on the right was your business logo with the name of it. You smiled and looked at Charles excitedly. He let out a small laugh and kissed you.
As you entered the party room, it was surprising how many people were there. You saw some of your employees in a corner dancing and talking all together. There was also a lot of people you didn't know because everyone could invite who they wanted.
"There's so much people. Do you know all of them?" Charles asked.
"Not at all. I only know a couple of them." You admitted.
"Let's go then, what are you waiting for?" Your boyfriend asked.
"Um, nothing! Let's do this!" You said loudly, exploring around.
You headed over to your employees and had a small talk with them. You really wanted to just go and see what there was in the room. You found it kind of weird that you barely knew who there would be and what there would be at your own business party, but you decided to still enjoy the moment. Charles wasn't with you anymore which you found good because you really wanted him to meet some new people.
"(Y/N)!!! COME OVER HERE!" One of your employees yelled, waving at you. They were sitting at a mini bar.
"Oh my God! What is this? There's a mini bar?" You said, surprised.
"YUP! Get a drink!"
You got yourself a drink and talked with your girls. All of you were having such a good time. You never wanted this to end. As another drink was ordered from you, two men sat down on seperate stools next to you. You tried your best to ignore them.
"Hey beautiful." One of the men said, placing his hands on the counter.
"I'm taken." You said, not looking at any of the two. You felt trapped, which was a feeling you absolutely hated.
"That's fine, your man don't gotta be aware of anything." The man in the back said, giving you a creepy smile. You didn't answer, trying your best to ignore them.
"Oh come on baby, talk to us." The man besides you said, sounding impatient.
"I don't need to talk to you whatsoever."
"Don't be like that, doll. I'll bring you back to mine. I can't wait to take your dress off and-"
"Who are you?" Charles asked, showing up behind you, looking at the men.
"Who are you?" The two men asked at the same time, eyeing you up and down.
"Come mon amour, let's get out of here." Charles said, helping you get up since you were a bit tipsy. You put your arm around his neck and you walked away. The two men watched as they sighed in disbelief. (my love)
"I hated that, a lot." You said as you watched the doors of the elevator close.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there faster." Charles apologized, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"It's not your fault. It's those men. They're weird." You replied.
"They are indeed weird, but I could've been with you to stop that. I'm so sorry." Charles apologized again, giving you small kisses all over your face.
"Don't be sorry. Let's just get out of here for good. I don't want to see them again."
"Of course. Anything for you, (Y/N)."
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#cute#f1#f1 blurb#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x reader#f1 x you#fandom#f1 imagine#x yn#yn#older man younger woman#romantic#romance#relationship#fanfic#delusional#writing#formula one#formula 1
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current WIPs 2 xoxo
here are my current WIPs from my request box!! hopefully this is all of them, let me know if i'm missing any xx
guess who?
yuki tsunoda x popstar!reader
wait who is y/n's special guest?
a very nonsense christmas
charles leclerc x singer!reader
part two of this
pick of the crop
logan sargeant x farmer!reader
sometimes opposites attract so much that a city boy is willing to get mud on his trainers
rookie love
oscar piastri x hamilton!reader
sure it's a rookie mistake to lose it in a corner, but is it a rookie mistake to fall in love with lewis hamilton's younger sister?
boy of my dreams
max verstappen x bookworm!reader
yes, i thirst over fictional men, sue me.
bad blood (lando's version)
lando norris x carlos ex!reader
band aids don't fix bullet holes but his best friend might
brother's best friend
lance stroll x schumacher!reader
there's something about the guy your brother tells you is off limits...
it's got to be time travel
charles leclerc x footballer!reader
they've got all the time in the world for each other, don't ask them where they got that time from though
passion for fashion
max verstappen x it girl!reader
she's everything and he's just ken (in a red bull shirt)
reluctant cupid
lando norris x bff!reader
you could set your bestie up with a driver or you could confess your feelings? lando norris is dumb.
undercover verstappen
charles leclerc x verstappen!reader
get you a girlfriend who will threaten mutiny to get you a seat at a competent team
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#charles leclerc imagine#max verstappen imagine#lando norris imagine#lance stroll imagine#oscar piastri imagine#logan sargeant imagine#yuki tsunoda imagine
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My Boyfriend’s Not in the Mafia // Charles Leclerc
I’ve been having issues with my posts disappearing from the tags so I’m going to give reposting this a try
It was funny at first. You didn’t really think anything of it the first time … or the second … or the third.
When you landed your dream job straight out of college and traded in the familiar streets of your hometown for the glitz and glam of Monaco, you didn’t know what to expect. But the reality ended up being more than you could have dreamed of.
You had a crooked cobblestone and poorly closed latte to thank for that. One wrong step saw you flung across the sidewalk. Fortunately, someone managed to catch you before your head became the street’s next victim. Unfortunately, his white linen shirt also caught the remnants of your coffee.
That’s how you met Charles Leclerc. Who needs a meet cute when you could have a “I’m mortified and can’t ever show my face in the second-smallest sovereign state in the world again” cute?
Of course you didn’t exactly know who he was at first but the gigantic billboard of his face next to the Prancing Horse that you passed on the way to your first date clued you in pretty quickly.
As you became more serious, you never intended to keep your relationship secret. But it was the off-season and that meant that Charles could mostly stay out of the spotlight while the two of you relished in your own little bubble. The honeymoon phase never felt sweeter.
But then your coworkers started asking questions. They saw the Ferrari (and the other Ferrari and the other Ferrari and the other Ferrari) that often dropped you off in the mornings and picked you up at night. They saw how you started to rush out for your lunch break instead of spending it in the office. They saw the new earrings and bracelets and necklaces and shoes and lots and lots of red accents.
“Who is he?”
You turn towards your coworker, Stephanie, as you go to refill your water bottle after lunch. “Who is who?”
She wiggles an eyebrow, “Your new man!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Your other coworker, Jacob, walks over from across the room. “Don’t be coy. We have eyes.”
Stephanie laughs, “And my eyes are telling me that you’ve found yourself a trust fund kid. No judgement here — get that bag!”
“One,” your raise a finger, “he’s not a trust fund kid. And two,” you raise another, “it’s not about money. I really like him.”
Stephanie squeals with as much zeal as she can manage in a corporate office, “I knew it! You have a man.”
Jacob chimes in, “So trust fund kid’s out … I’m betting on an oligarch.”
“Or a torrid affair with a politician.” Stephanie seems way too excited at the prospect.
You roll your eyes good-naturedly, “He does something much more dangerous.”
“He’s in the mafia?”
“Damn, you’ve got yourself a mobster.”
You don’t grace them with a reply, just laughing the teasing away.
You should have just straight up denied it. You knew that. But you were having too much fun and what harm could a little joke possibly have? You just didn’t expect the photos you posted on Instagram from when you joined Charles in Maranello and then explored northern Italy together to have your work friends quite so suspicious.
Stephanie and Jacob corner you as soon as you step out of the elevator on your first day back from vacation.
Stephanie starts, “So Italy …”
“Where the mafia is from. What a coincidence!” Jacob finishes.
“Wait,” Stephanie focuses on your neck, “that’s a new necklace.” She spots the patent red bottoms of your new more fashion than function stilettos, “and those are new shoes!”
“We were in Milan!” You explained. “You can’t not go shopping in Milan.”
“Yeah,” Jacob laughs, “you and your mafioso sugar daddy.”
To be fair, the phone call they overheard between you and Charles the next day didn’t help much.
“Did you manage to get the blood out?”
He sighed through the phone, “Yes, finally! Only took me two hours of scrubbing. Remind me not to scratch my leg on a cliff and not notice while it bleeds on my car’s leather the next time we go to the beach.”
Your back turned to them, you don’t even notice the wide eyed look that Stephanie and Jacob exchange.
When your birthday approached right before the season started up, you finally decided to introduce Charles to your friends. Your family, the Leclercs, and your friends would be joining you for dinner at your favorite local restaurant.
Charles was standing next to you, welcoming your guests and inviting them to sit down for dinner, when Stephanie and Jacob walked in.
You think they would’ve looked less shocked if Charles was actually in the mafia.
Jacob stutters, “You’re … you’re-”
“CHARLES LECLERC!” Stephanie managed to find her voice.
Charles extended a hand and chuckled, “Hope I don’t disappoint. Y/N told me you thought I was in the mafia. I’m not quite at that level.”
Your best friends from work turned the same color as Charles’ race suit.
#f1#f1 fanfiction#f1 imagine#f1 rpf#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1blr#f1 blurb#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 instagram au#cl16#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#scuderia ferrari#ferrari#formula one#formula 1
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Photo: Oliver Holms / EE BAFTA Film Awards • Charles Finch & Chanel Pre-BAFTA Party • 17 February 2024 / Found on Twitter
Video 📹 from Instagram
Harper’s Bazaar UK • May 2024
FLASH! We join London’s glitterati at Chanel and Charles Finch’s annual star-studded pre-Baftas bash
Dramatic skies poured outside on the eve of the Baftas, but the intimate corners and warming fireplaces of 5 Hertford Street drew in Britain’s best-loved talents and Hollywood stars for the annual Charles Finch and Chanel party. Emily Blunt and Tom Ford kissed hello, before collecting glasses of champagne and going over to greet Gwendoline Christie and Giles Deacon. As the mariachi band played a lively set, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, George MacKay and Minnie Driver chatted together, while Bel Powley and Douglas Booth unwound after a busy day, having first attended a birthday lunch for Powley’s mother, before the Simone Rocha A/W 24 fashion show, declaring with intent: ‘Now we can relax!’
Bob Geldof and Mariella Frostrup linked arms to lead the charge down to dinner, followed by Isla Fisher, who was admiring the interiors. Once everyone was seated, Charles Finch addressed the room: ‘It has been an incredible year for cinema,’ he said, also paying homage to his co-host Chanel and its historic affinity with film – creating haute-couture outfits for productions such as the New Wave Last Year at Marienbad, and countless memorable red-carpet looks. Over lobster salad and poussin, conversation and wine flowed: the nominees Margot Robbie and Greta Gerwig were deep in conversation, and Richard E Grant caught up with his Saltburn director Emerald Fennell. Last year’s winner Emma Mackey was all smiles in anticipation of presenting the Rising Star Award, saying, ‘It’s quite mad, I’ve no idea who will get it, so I hope I don’t mess it up.’ It was almost midnight when guests began to descend on the dancefloor, where the party was only just beginning.
Page 170
60 SECONDS WITH…
CAITRÍONA BALFE
Who would play you in a film of your life?
‘Saoirse Ronan – she would make me very fabulous.’
Your all-time favourite soundtrack
‘Le Mépris. It’s so evocative and takes you somewhere incredible.’
The movie that changed your life
‘Dead Poets Society. It showed me the power of storytelling and solidified the fact that I wanted to be an actor.’
A silver-screen icon you’d like to meet
‘Gena Rowlands is my absolute idol – I’m holding out hope.’
Page 174
Remember… the people I find beautiful are the people who inspire me. I love unusual beauty like Peggy Guggenheim, who had incredible style and taste. Gina Rowlands is also someone I think of as beautiful. I like women like that. I like men like that. It's not all necessarily about the Best Body or the Best Hair. I think it's much more important to do incredible things with your life. — Caitríona Balfe, Cara (magazine), August 2016
#Tait rhymes with hat#Good times#Harper’s Bazaar UK#May 2024#British Academy of Film and Television Arts#77th#EE BAFTA Film Awards#Charles Finch & Chanel Pre-BAFTA Party#Loulou’s#17 February 2024#London#Campaign To Shorten Awards Season#Thanks sunsetmagic85
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What Happens When You're Left Alone: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader (NSFW)
Contains: Rapeplay, consensual non!con, rough sex, creampie
You lifted the basket to rest at your hip, turning away from the rickety old porch and stepped inside of the colonial home. You had just watched Charles and Sadie ride off in search of more food, probably towards the edge of this damned swamp for deer, anything but whatever slop Pearson would come up with. Sadie was hesitant to leave at first, offering you multiple times to come along, but you stayed back. You still had a lot to do, and you surely didn’t want Ms. Grimshaw to erupt when she saw everyone had left and that nothing was clean.
Everyone had left, going off into groups to their own places. Who went into town for medicines and quick bounty work, who went off for food, who went off for a ride to clear their heads. It was just you left at camp.
You wiped your forehead at the sweat that had gathered at your hairline. You hated being in the swamp, it was horrible. It was constantly hot and humid, you were constantly bitten by bugs and kept awake at night by croaking frogs and chirping crickets. You sneered at the thoughts of what laid out in the mud and murky pools in the swap, what reptiles and fish were just waiting for you to just cross by and drag you through to kill you.
You found your refuge in the Shady Belle from the balmy heat, padding through the house and climbed the stairs to start putting your clothing away in the old wooden dressers you and your husband used, folded the freshly dried clothes before putting them away in the drawers. You were halfway through the basket before you realized you had somehow grabbed the wrong laundry from the makeshift clothesline you had set up when you and the other women in camp had washed clothing earlier this morning. You cursed to yourself softly and hoisted the half-filled basket before turning around on the creaky flooring and started your way down the stairs. You had turned the corner, aiming to leave through the large wooden doors when you stopped out of shock and fear.
You had dropped the basket of clean laundry, the wicker and wood cracked against the hardwood floors that were just swept and the laundry piles spilled out.
There was a man, a stranger in Shady Belle, in your camp’s hideout. His back was turned to you, he was crouched down and was rummaging through a chest on the floor, its contents were pooled on the floor. You could tell even with him crouched down that he was big and broad.
His head shot up and he turned to look at you as soon as he heard the basket crackle on the ground. You froze in his gaze, you wanted to just shrink down and hide. You felt like prey, especially when he started to stand up and turn to face you fully, you felt the colors drain from your face. The sweaty balm on your body made your skin feel icy and made your hair want to stand up straight.
He was tall and very broad, definitely an imposing figure that could easily snuff you out if he wanted to. His cornflower blue shirt was rumpled, the sleeves had been bunched up at the elbow to show off his strong forearms. Dark pants hid tall and strong legs that he could catch up to you should you run. He wore a black cavalry hat, the lip nearly hiding his eyes in shadows, a black bandana was wrapped around his nose and mouth, obscuring his face from you. Your eyes fell to his waist where you saw a holster strapped to his hip, a customized cattleman revolver sat heavy in the holster. Alongside the gun was a heavy knife tucked into his belt, the blade looked freshly cleaned and sharpened. A lasso wound from thick rope and leather was fashioned to his other hip.
You shivered under his direct gaze, taking a small step backward. You nearly whimpered in fear when he took a step towards you. Your heart was pounding in your ears, your breath was stuttering, you felt your eyes stinging with tears of fright.
He was going to kill you.
“Well look at you,” the intruder drawled. “I thought this place was empty, sure was a surprise to see yer still home.” He took another step closer to you, you took another step back. “And what a surprise you are, darlin’.”
The dress you were wearing suddenly felt like it weighed one hundred pounds. It was a gift from your husband, a light floral printed dress he had gotten it in Valentine as a surprise for you. You loved wearing it, but now, you felt disgusting in it.
“Please, take whatever and leave. I won’t stop you,” you pleaded. He stepped forward again, unimpressed by your little attempt to be brave. “Please, I-I won’t report you, I won’t tell anyone you were here.”
“Oh, I know what I want now,” he growled from behind the bandana.
You felt absolutely sullied being in his sight, your heart dropped right into your stomach.
You didn’t even have a chance to take off, you were able to turn around and take a run a few steps before he was upon you. You were slammed into a wall, his large meaty hands were pinning you against the wall by your shoulders, your front and face hit the wall. You sobbed, turning your head to the side as tears had started to fall down your cheeks as the man pressed himself up against your back. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey, his hot breath hit the back of your neck. He pressed fully up against you, one of his hands leaving your neck to grab at you, a big calloused hand running down your hips to your waist and soon to your-
You strike behind you, your elbow collided with his ribs and catching the intruder off guard and causing him to stumble back from you. Taking the opportunity, you managed to squirm out of his iron grasp and fumbled through the house. It didn’t take him long to come right after you, heavy footfalls were right behind you, his booming voice threatening you. You turned on a corner and tried for the stairs, slipping over the low hemline of your dress, your knees collided with the hard wood and you cried out.
You were yanked back, his hand had snatched at your ankle and dragged you down, tearing the low hemline of your dress as you tried to dig your heels into the wood to stop him. Your nails dug into the wood, cracking when he dragged you down until you were beneath him.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, darlin,” he growled as he grabbed onto your wrists. You thrashed in his grip, trying to kick at him, wriggle your way out again, something other than just letting him win. He snatched at the lasso from his hip, quickly weaving it around your wrists, binding them together so tight that any movement burned your skin. You desperately tried to push him away, your trembling fingers managed to snatch onto his bandana and jerk it down, revealing his rugged face. He was stunned for a split second before rage washed over his face. “You fucked up, little miss.”
He snatched at the torn hemline of your dress, completely ripping it off of your dress and stuffed the torn garment into your mouth to silence your cries and pleading. He hoisted you up the rest of the way, his heavy feet threatening the old wooden stairs below you as he threw you suddenly over his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch with your weight now on his broad shoulder as he stomped up the stairs and threw open the first door he could find.
Your room.
Without a care, the intruder hoisted you off of his shoulder and tossed you carelessly. You landed on the bedframe with a sob, the gag muffling your cries. You twisted around to see him kick closed the door, the wood slamming echoed through the house. You trembled as you stared at him with wide eyes.
He blocked the entire door with his broad body, he loomed over you, a horrible scowl on his face. He was furious, hands clenched into fists and he was breathing heavily.
“You really fucked up now, darlin’,” he sneered. You cried into the gag when he stomped over.
He grabbed at your ankle with a harsh grip and yanked you to the edge of the bed. Your scream was muffled, you were trembling worse than a branch in a storm. Your eyes were wide and full of tears as you stared up at him, dreading what his next move would be.
He grabbed at the shoulders of your dress and knotted his fingers in the collar, tearing the material with his bare strength. The fabric tore down your neck and past your breasts, revealing your brassiere to him. His rough hands went right to your breasts, calloused hands cupped your breasts and groped you through the thick material. His hands were dirty, covered in gunpowder and dirt and soiling the white material of your brassiere. He slid his hands beneath the hard wires and caressed the sensitive skin of your breasts. You whimpered into the gag, trying to push it out of your mouth with your tongue as tears started to stream down your cheeks.
“You feel so soft,” he purred. His touch was strangely soft now that he was violating your personal space after nearly killing you just moments ago. He eyed the wedding band on your finger and a spark really seemed to light in his eye. “How’d yer husband feel if he walked in here to see me touchin’ his wife?” You cursed him out behind the gag, barely managing to get words like ‘fuck and ‘kill’ and ‘bastard’ out through his howls of laughter. “Yer husband’s gon’ kill me? Think he’ll be stunned when he sees me fuckin’ his pretty little wife, don’t you?”
Your blood ran cold, your heart stopped for what felt like eternity. You shook your head, eyes dripping with salty tears, pleading with the man behind the gag as he grabbed onto your brasserie again and ripped it off of your body, the fabric tearing cut through the still and thick air. He looked at your naked breasts with a ravenous hunger in his evil green eyes, hands grabbing them and started to squeeze your chest with vigor. You whined and tried to kick him off, but the man’s strong stature denied you completely. Instead, he straddled you at the knees, hunching over you slightly to toy with your naked breasts. Dirty nails scratching your skin, calloused fingers squeezing your nipples, strong hands grabbing at your chest to try to get a noise out of you.
Seeing that you weren’t giving him what he wanted, he stopped violating your breasts and grabbed onto the remaining scraps of your dress and yanked again, completely tearing apart the rest of the dress and leaving you only in your white panties. He did away with them as he had done with your dress and brasserie, tearing it off of your body and now leaving you completely nude to his eyes.
One of his hands trailed down to your womanhood, hand caressing your sensitive flesh before parting you open with one finger. You winced, his calloused finger scratched at your skin uncomfortably as he plunged it deeper into your passageway. You cried when he started to finger-fuck you, his eyes trained on your body, ramping up the speed at which he tortured you. He soon added another finger, starting to open you up, enjoying what he was dragging out of you.
“Gettin’ wet from another man? Boy, I’d bet yer husband would be pissed,” he mocked as he fingered your slick walls.
You whined and tried to wriggle loose. The man laughed, taunting you, loving every second of the torture he put onto you.
He had stopped suddenly and sat back, large hands going right to his belt where he fumbled with it. You pleaded once more, eyes wide with terror as you shook your head. He had pulled out his large cock, fully erect now in his hand. He sat back up and dragged the head of his dick over your slick entrance, barely passing it through your walls to tease you before lining himself up.
You screamed when he roughly thrusted into you, your back lifting off of the bed to try and ease the pain he was causing you only for him to push you back down flat onto the bed.
He groaned lowly as he tried to get adjusted to how tight you were, fighting you back down when you tried to move and squirm with both hands now on your shoulders. He sank into you until he was fully hilted before he started to move. He started slow, trying to ease you open more, hissing at how tight you were still even after he finger fucked you open. His hips soon started to piston like a well-oiled machine, dragging his cock nearly out of you before plunging back in. The moans and words that left his mouth were vile, surely to haunt you for the rest of you life. He was quick to ramp up the speed, the bed creaking with every thrust, the mattress moving and the floors beneath squeaking.
You cried into the gag, eyes wincing and your hands balled into fists as the rope around them burned. He smirked, moaned, and laughed at you.
You moaned when he thrusted against a bundle of sensitive nerves inside of you, earning a howling laugh front him as he relentlessly pounded into you.
“Look at you,” he sneered as he pounded into you from above, “moanin’ as another man fucks you. What would that husband of yers think?”
You had somehow loosened the rope around your wrists just enough to squeeze out of them, opting to grab at the sheets rather than grab onto him. The gag was still in your mouth covered in your spit, still muffling your whimpers and now unfortunately your moans too.
You felt pressure build up inside of you, like hot metal in a forge right inside of your core. Your arousal was coming fast, and you couldn’t do anything about it. All you could do was just lay there as this man violated you.
You came with a cry, sobbing as your body was wracked with both arousal and shame. The man laughed at you, taunting you as he continued to fuck you.
“Cummin’ ‘round another man’s cock, now that’s somethin’ else, sweetheart.” You felt his cock twitch inside of you not too long after, your mind hazy from your climax and your body wanting to go limp. His groans were getting heavier and his thrusts were more sloppy. “Wonder how yer husband’ll feel knowin’ you got fucked by another man? Knowin’ that yer leakin’ my seed?”
He kept thrusting into you, his grip on your shoulders was bruising. He was getting sloppy, slowly losing control of his hips, he faltered and hunching over you, spilling his seed right into you, cumming with a heavy groan. He stayed that way, cock still inside of you until it had grown flaccid and leaned over you, riding out his high inside of your throbbing womanhood until he had finally got off.
He stood from the bed and stalked out of your sight and you rolled to your side, starting to sob to yourself quietly, afraid of the man that still lurked in your bedroom until he came into view once more.
“You say anythin’ to anyone, and I’ll come back, ya hear?” he threatened down at you as he fumbled with his belt.
You heaved, your legs trembled as you clenched them together. Your entire naked body was drenched in a cold sweat, your inner thighs sticky your horrid arousal and his sticky cum that was still dripping onto the sheets still warm. He pushed himself off of the bed, you could barely see him through the strands of hair clinging to your tear-streaked face. You saw him for a brief moment, and the next he was gone without a sound, leaving you alone to curl up into a ball and sob to yourself quietly.
He was quick, rushing out to his horse behind the house and rummaged through her satchel bag for a small leather satchel before turning on his heel and rushing back into the house. He had made sure to grab a tin cup from a nearby table and dunked it into the bucket of fresh water nearby before disappearing into the house.
He was quiet when he entered the house, slowly taking the stairs one at a time as to not spill the water, wincing as the wood creaked eerily under his weight. He came up to the tall door that was partially open from when he slammed it at his exit, nudging his foot into the doorway and poking his head in.
His heart was pounding in his ears, his heart nearly stopped when he saw you still on the bed. You were sobbing softly, you had rolled over onto your side and faced away from the door, the gag had been spit out and had fallen to the floor. You were trembling still, trying to breathe calmly between sobs. His eyes rolled over the bruises and marks he had left on your body from thrashing you around and his eyes stayed on the ruined scraps of your dress on the floor. He would have to buy you a new dress soon.
He licked his lips and looked back at you.
“(Y/n)?” he called softly. He stepped into the room and carefully approached you. You stirred, your trembling had nearly stopped and your sobs had been cut short. “(Y/n), sweetheart, are ya alright?”
“Arthur?” you whimpered.
You wiped your face with the back of your hands before turning to look at him.
Arthur moved to set the cup and satchel down and sat next to you on the rickety bed. His large hands rubbed calming circles into your back.
“Darlin’, I didn’ hurt ya, did I?” he worried, combing his fingers through your hair.
“N-no,” you had finally caught your breath and your sniffles had quieted down some. “I-I liked it, I just need a minute.”
Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and sat up.
“I love ya, sweetheart. I got ya somethin’.”
Arthur grabbed at the satchel and put it in front of you for you to open. You fumbled with the latch and slipped open the leather to find three bars of chocolate as well as some other sweets stuffed inside of the leather.
He reached across and wiped away the stray tear that had started to roll down your cheek.
“I should head on down, clean up the mess I made,” Arthur hummed.
Before he could stand up, you stopped him, wrapping your hand around his wrist. His brilliant green eyes met yours. God, he loved looking into your eyes even when they were rimmed red from crying.
“Stay with me? Please?” you pleaded softly.
“Always.”
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The sun beat down on the asphalt of the Alpha Tauri garage as YN stepped out of her car, her heart racing from the intense practice session. She was only 19 and had managed to secure a spot on the grid as a rookie driver, an achievement that both thrilled and intimidated her.
As YN entered the paddock, she noticed the seasoned drivers glancing at her, their eyes filled with curiosity and skepticism. She felt a growing sense of unease, believing their scrutiny was rooted in disdain for her as a female driver.
As she glanced around, Y/N couldn't help but notice the sidelong glances and hushed whispers from the other drivers. It wasn't an easy journey for her to make it to this level. She had fought against countless obstacles, especially being a female driver in a predominantly male sport. But she was determined to prove herself, to shatter the glass ceiling and show that gender was irrelevant when it came to skill and passion.
Her teammate, Yuki Tsunoda, seemed distant. Ever since the departure of his previous teammate, Pierre Gasly, he had been melancholic. But Y/N couldn't help but wonder if his cold demeanor had something to do with her presence in the team. She felt like an outsider, like she didn't belong.
"Hey, Y/N, feeling the pressure yet?" Oscar Piastri, one of the other rookies, asked, a smirk playing on his lips. Y/N's heart sank. Even the other newcomers seemed to harbor resentment towards her.
"Yeah, it's pretty intense," Y/N replied, her voice betraying her unease. Logan Sargeant, the other rookie, didn't say a word but kept his gaze focused on the ground, avoiding eye contact with her.
The hate didn't stop there. Social media was a cesspool of derogatory comments and harassment, and old-fashioned journalists made snide remarks about her capabilities as a female driver. Y/N felt like she was drowning in a sea of negativity, her self-confidence slowly eroding away.
Y/N's smile faltered, and she kept her head down, trying to focus on her own preparations. The comments hurt, but she had anticipated some resistance as the only female driver on the grid.
The weight of the racing world bore down on Y/N's shoulders. She faced constant scrutiny, not only from fans and social media but also from old-fashioned journalists who doubted her abilities solely because of her gender. Hate messages flooded her social media, questioning her worthiness, and sowed seeds of self-doubt in her mind.
As the day dawned, anxiety gripped Y/N. The pressure to perform weighed heavily on her, amplifying the existing tensions. She found herself isolated, her self-assurance crumbling under the weight of prejudice.
One morning, before the drivers' briefing, Y/N's anxiety reached a boiling point. The prospect of facing the negativity head-on overwhelmed her. In a secluded corner of the paddock, she was consumed by a panic attack, her breaths shallow and rapid.
Amidst the chaos of the pit lane, a group of drivers noticed Y/N's distress. Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc and others exchanged concerned glances before swiftly approaching her. They had been oblivious to the hardships she faced, lost in their own world of competition and rivalries.
"Y/N, are you okay?" Max Verstappen, the reigning champion, asked gently.
Y/N tried to speak, but her words came out as choked sobs. The drivers surrounded her, creating a protective circle, shielding her from the harsh world beyond.
"Y/N, are you alright?" Lando asked gently, crouching down to her level.
Y/N's teary eyes met theirs, disbelief mingling with gratitude. "I... I thought... nobody cared."
Charles Leclerc, who had previously been distant, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We may have been blind to your struggles, but we care, Y/N. You don't have to face this alone, we should have been there for you, Y/N. We're a team, on and off the track."
"Hey, it's alright. You're not alone," Lando Norris reassured her, offering a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Pierre Gasly stepped forward, his expression filled with regret. "You're not alone in this, YN. We're a team, and that means supporting each other. I'm sorry I left you feeling isolated."
Oscar and Logan nodded in agreement, their expressions apologetic. "We never meant to make you feel unwelcome. We were just trying not to overwhelm you," Oscar confessed.
One by one, the drivers shared words of encouragement and support. They apologized for not realizing the struggles she had been silently enduring. Y/N felt a wave of relief washing over her, knowing she wasn't alone in this battle. Yuki Tsunoda, her teammate, stepped forward last.
"Y/N, I want you to know that I wasn't avoiding you because I dislike you," Yuki said sincerely. "I miss Pierre, and it took me a while to adjust. I'm sorry for not being there for you when you needed it."
Tears filled Y/N's eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief and gratitude. "I understand, Yuki. Thank you for saying that."
One by one, the drivers shared their own struggles and insecurities, their experiences of being judged and doubted. Y/N listened, her heart swelling with a newfound connection. She wasn't alone anymore; she had allies in this demanding world.
With time, the panic attack subsided, leaving Y/N exhausted but filled with a renewed sense of purpose. She wiped away her tears and took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of friendship surrounding her.
As they made their way back to the briefing, united, Y/N felt a change in the air. The other drivers who had once seemed cold and distant now greeted her with genuine smiles and words of encouragement, Yn realized that the comments and glances she had interpreted as hostility were often mere misunderstandings. The other drivers hadn't realized the impact of their actions until it was too late. She accepted their heartfelt apologies, knowing that they had truly learned from this experience.
From that moment on, things began to change. The drivers stood up against the hate on social media, using their platforms to spread positivity and challenge the status quo. Journalists started to focus on Y/N's skills and potential rather than her gender.
On the track, Y/N's performance improved as her newfound support system lifted her spirits. The paddock buzzed with admiration for her resilience, and fans began to rally behind her.
Through her struggles, Y/N had found her place in the Formula 1 family. She had made friends who understood and supported her unconditionally.
The bond she shared with Max, Lando, Charles, Oscar, and Logan grew stronger with each passing race. They formed a united front against discrimination and worked together to create a more supportive environment for future generations of racers.
Y/N's journey from a rookie filled with doubt to a confident driver was far from easy, but her resilience, and the support of her newfound friends, proved that no challenge was insurmountable. And as she stood on the podium, a symbol of triumph over adversity, she knew that her victory extended far beyond the racetrack.
She looked out at the crowd, feeling their unwavering support, and said, "To all the young girls out there dreaming big: Don't let anyone tell you that you can't achieve your goals. We belong here, and we're here to stay."
The crowd erupted in applause, the sound echoing through the stadium. Y/N's journey had been one of struggle, but ultimately, it was a story of triumph over adversity. And she knew that together with her newfound friends, they would continue to pave the way for future generations of female drivers in Formula 1.
#f1 imagine#f1 drivers x reader#f1 fic#female!driver#f1 x oc#f1 x female driver#f1 fics#f1 x reader#formula 1 fic#f1 x yn
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📷 @/dinara_mn
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Grimsthorpe Castle
Hi guys!!
I'm sharing another grand english state!
House History: The building was originally a small castle on the crest of a ridge on the road inland from the Lincolnshire fen edge towards the Great North Road. It is said to have been begun by Gilbert de Gant, Earl of Lincoln in the early 13th century. However, he was the first and last in this creation of the Earldom of Lincoln and he died in 1156. Gilbert's heyday was the peak time of castle building in England, during the Anarchy. It is quite possible that the castle was built around 1140. However, the tower at the south-east corner of the present building is usually said to have been part of the original castle and it is known as King John's Tower. The naming of King John's tower seems to have led to a misattribution of the castle's origin to his time.
Gilbert de Gant spent much of his life in the power of the Earl of Chester and Grimsthorpe is likely to have fallen into his hands in 1156 when Gilbert died, though the title 'Earl of Lincoln' reverted to the crown. In the next creation of the earldom, in 1217, it was Ranulph de Blondeville, 4th Earl of Chester (1172–1232) who was ennobled with it. It seems that the title, if not the property was in the hands of King John during his reign; hence perhaps, the name of the tower.
During the last years of the Plantagenet kings of England, it was in the hands of Lord Lovell. He was a prominent supporter of Richard III. After Henry VII came to the throne, Lovell supported a rebellion to restore the earlier royal dynasty. The rebellion failed and Lovell's property was taken confiscated and given to a supporter of the Tudor Dynasty.[2]
The Tudor period
This grant by Henry VIII, Henry Tudor's son, to the 11th Baron Willoughby de Eresby was made in 1516, together with the hand in marriage of Maria de Salinas, a Spanish lady-in-waiting to Queen Catherine of Aragon. Their daughter Katherine inherited the title and estate on the death of her father in 1526, when she was aged just seven. In 1533, she became the fourth wife of Charles Brandon, 1st Duke of Suffolk, a close ally of Henry VIII. In 1539, Henry VIII granted Charles Suffolk the lands of the nearby suppressed Vaudey Abbey, founded in 1147, and he used its stone as building material for his new house. Suffolk set about extending and rebuilding his wife's house, and in only eighteen months it was ready for a visit in 1541 by King Henry, on his way to York to meet his nephew, James V of Scotland. In 1551, James's widow Mary of Guise also stayed at Grimsthorpe. The house stands on glacial till and it seems that the additions were hastily constructed. Substantial repairs were required later owing to the poor state of the foundations, but much of this Tudor house can still be seen today.
During Mary's reign the castle's owners, Katherine Brandon, Duchess of Suffolk (née Willoughby) and her second husband, Richard Bertie, were forced to leave it owing to their Anglican views. On Elizabeth's succeeding to the throne, they returned with their daughter, Susan, later Countess of Kent and their new son Peregrine, later the 13th Baron. He became a soldier and spent much of his time away from Grimsthorpe.
The Vanbrugh building
By 1707, when Grimsthorpe was illustrated in Britannia Illustrata, the 15th Baron Willoughby de Eresby and 3rd Earl Lindsey had rebuilt the north front of Grimsthorpe in the classical style. However, in 1715, Robert Bertie, the 16th Baron Willoughby de Eresby, employed Sir John Vanbrugh to design a Baroque front to the house to celebrate his ennoblement as the first Duke of Ancaster and Kesteven. It is Vanbrugh's last masterpiece. He also prepared designs for the reconstruction of the other three ranges of the house, but they were not carried out. His proposed elevation for the south front was in the Palladian style, which was just coming into fashion, and is quite different from all of his built designs.
The North Front of Grimsthorpe as rebuilt by Vanbrugh, drawn in 1819. Vanbrugh's Stone Hall occupies the space between the columns on both floors.
Inside, the Vanbrugh hall is monumental with stone arcades all around at two levels. Arcaded screens at each end of the hall separate the hall from staircases, much like those at Audley End House and Castle Howard. The staircase is behind the hall screen and leads to the staterooms on the first floor. The State Dining Room occupies Vanbrugh's north-east tower, with its painted ceiling lit by a Venetian window. It contains the throne used by George IV at his Coronation Banquet, and a Regency giltwood throne and footstool used by Queen Victoria in the old House of Lords. There is also a walnut and parcel gilt chair and footstool made for the use of George III at Westminster. The King James and State Drawing Rooms have been redecorated over the centuries, and contain portraits by Reynolds and Van Dyck, European furniture, and yellow Soho Tapestries woven by Joshua Morris around 1730. The South Corridor contains thrones used by Prince Albert and Edward VII, as well as the desk on which Queen Victoria signed her coronation oath. A series of rooms follows in the Tudor east range, with recessed oriel windows and ornate ceilings. The Chinese drawing room has a splendidly rich ceiling and an 18th-century fan-vaulted oriel window. The walls are hung with Chinese wallpaper depicting birds amidst bamboo. The chapel is magnificent with superb 17th-century plasterwork.
More history: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grimsthorpe_Castle
This house fits a 64x64 lot and features several impressive rooms, more than 29 bedrooms, a servants hall and several state rooms!
I only decored some of the main rooms, for you to have a glimpse of the distribution. The rest is up to you, as I have stated that I do not like interiors :P
Be warned: I did not have the floor plan for the tudor rooms, thus, the distribution is based on my own decision and can not fit the real house :P.
You will need the usual CC I use: all of Felixandre, The Jim, SYB, Anachrosims, Regal Sims, TGS, The Golden Sanctuary, Dndr recolors, etc.
Please enjoy, comment if you like it and share pictures with me if you use my creations!
DOWNLOAD (Early acces: June 30) https://www.patreon.com/posts/grimsthorpe-101891128
#sims 4 architecture#sims 4 build#sims4#sims4play#sims 4 screenshots#sims 4 historical#sims4building#sims4palace#sims 4 royalty#ts4 download#ts4#ts4 gameplay#ts4 simblr#ts4cc#ts4 legacy#sims 4 gameplay#sims 4 legacy#sims 4 cc#thesims4#sims 4#the sims 4#sims 4 aesthetic#ts4 cc#english manor
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But I think they are J Crew. She is really in the mid-tier market -- Ouch, this one line would've made her SO mad 😂 But that's the truth. And she's looking to lure the uber rich as her customers/patrons/investors. Old money. Born in money, generational wealth, discreet, classy and absolutely loathe nouveau riche especially someone as crass and loud mouthed as Rachel Markle. Another day, another project, another failure and blaming others for that. Same MO in Rachel's universe.
If we're being honest, I think J Crew is also little out of reach for her actual market. J Crew feels pretty solidly in Kate's demographic, if only by the stereotype of who the J Crew woman is. The J Crew woman is a professional, she's focused, she's driven, she's put-together, she's consistent in what she wears/what she does/how she decorates. She may not have the budget for Kate's high street fashion, but she can make do with replikates from the likes of J Crew, Brooks Brothers, Anne Taylor, LOFT, etc. This, by the way, is Reese Witherspoon's audience.
My sense is that Meghan's market is more of the TJ Maxx demographic. People who love a brand name but don't want to pay full price. People that want to be trendy and stylish in every season at all times. People that want artisanal and organic but not at full price. People that want a bargain or a discount that can be easily passed off as "the real designer thing." People who love luxury but love bragging about their discount even more. People who slap "live love laugh"-esque motivational quotes on everything.
There's nothing wrong with being a TJ Maxx girl or a J Crew girl or a High Street girl. You do you.
What's wrong here is Meghan's perception of the market and what's feasible for her. She isn't Gwyneth Paltrow who can get the uber rich/old money/nepo baby crowd. She isn't Reese Witherspoon who can get the middle class/J Crew crowd. She isn't even King Charles who can get the Waitrose crowd, which is the equivalent of the Whole Foods crowd here in the US.
The only audience left, the only space left, in the market is the TJ Maxx/bargain discount retailer crowd. That's where the money and the loyalty is. And it's ultimately who Meghan is. If she was smart, she'd understand that about herself, target the TJ Maxx / Ross / Home Goods / Marshalls group, corner the market there, then scale up once she has a loyal community who can do the marketing for her by talking about the products on social media.
I mean, how much of us are paying ridiculous prices for our favorite lotions, potions, subscriptions, and boxes today? And the only reason most of us put up with those ridiculous prices is because we fell in love with the brand when they were reasonably priced to get our attention.
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here's a lil snippet from my upcoming fic where max works as a programmer for the website of a french fashion magazine and charles is still a driver :)
He comes back to his desk slightly out of breath from taking the stairs and still trying to process what on earth just happened. Daniel and Lando have stopped bickering, both working on their respective computers again when Max puts the mostly empty coffee cup in front of Daniel and falls down in his desk chair, digging the Red Bull cans out of his pocket and opening his own, taking a big swig.
Daniel opens his mouth, presumably to say thank you, but then he looks at the coffee cup and frowns. “Uh,” he says, pointing at the cup and looking up at Max. “Where’s the rest of it?”
Max pulls a face. “Soaking into the shirt of two time Formula One World Driver Champion Charles Leclerc.”
“What,” Daniel says, as Lando pops his head over the divider with a gleeful look on his face.
“Oh this sounds like it’s going to be good,” he says, as he catches the red bull can Max throws him one handed. “What happened?”
Max sighs. “I ran into him in the elevator. Literally. Then I told him he was braking too early on turn 11 yesterday, and he just kept staring at me, so I kind of panicked, and got out of the elevator three floors too early.”
“You are a gift to this earth,” Lando says, sighing delightedly as Daniel howls with laughter next to him. “Like who the fuck does that? Meets one of their favorite drivers and then tells them their braking is shit. Truly, only you. I’m so glad we are friends.”
“Max, Maxy, never change,” Daniel says, trying to catch his breath. “God I wish I could have been there.”
“You,” Max says, pointing between the two of them with his Red Bull can. “Both suck.”
“What was he even doing here?” Lando asks, as Daniel wipes the tears from the corners of his eye.
“No clue,” Max says, with a shrug. “Didn’t think too ask.”
“Too busy insulting his braking,” Daniel says, sending himself off into another peel of laughter.
“I’m never buying you coffee again,” Max tells him.
Lando, meanwhile, is scrolling through his computer. “Oh, here!” he says, “it’s in the company newsletter under ‘upcoming features’. They’re doing a cover story on him.”
“Oh, well, who the fuck reads the company newsletter,” Daniel says, leaning over Lando’s shoulder to read along with him. “Apparently it’s about his second WDC win and ‘what it’s like being the only openly gay driver on the grid’.”
Max hums. “Well, at least that means I won’t bump into him again,” he says, taking another sip of his Red Bull. “They’re probably doing the shoot and the interview simultaneously. If they’re smart, at least.”
“Bummer, really,” Daniel says, moving back to his own seat and drinking the little bit of coffee that was still in the cup. “Could’ve been the start of a great love story.”
Lando snorts. “Kids, it all started when I told your father, who had won two World Driver Championships at that point, that he sucked at driving.”
Max sticks his middle finger up at them, and pulls his noise canceling headphones back over his ears. Only two hours left to go, he thinks, wistfully, and goes back to coding.
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Model and Designer for piarles 😘🙏
20. model and designer
Pierre can't sleep.
It's becoming a habit, which is not boding well for his stomach lining considering how much more coffee he's been drinking because of that fact. Pierre just...can't sleep. There's not much he can really attribute it to, except for maybe the fact that he's a few months out from the big debut of his whole new fashion line--the latest Louis offshoot he'd been fortunate enough to helm. This is years of his life at stake: all that school and groundwork, all the bleeding and pricking and crying he'd done to find himself here, surrounded by fabric swatches laid out haphazardly at the desk kitty-cornered in his bedroom. There are stacks of photos and torn-up magazines out on his kitchen counter. His whole apartment is now a perfect parallel to his workplace: covered in ideas, wall-to-wall.
Hm. Maybe that's why he's becoming an insomniac.
Instead of paying the thought any more attention, though, Pierre slips out of bed and pads over to his desk chair, grabs the nearest sketchbook of his and flips to a blank page. It's not quite dawn, but there's more light than there was a few hours ago--enough to see what he'd left behind.
Charles is out cold. Completely asleep, drool and all. He looks innocent in ways that no photographer would ever be able to capture: forehead smoothed out with sleep, body curled in on itself slightly in the absence of someone next to him. Pierre gazes at him, sketchbook heavy in his hands, and feels the guilt in his stomach like a knife. He'd only invited his lead model over tonight for a review of their plans for the first walk-through with the clothes. (They have to move right, after all: Pierre needs to see his work from all angles in motion before he can be comfortable putting it on stage, even for a dress rehearsal.)
He hadn't planned for two bottles of wine. He certainly hadn't planned for Charles in his lap, warm and pliant and so, so easy as Pierre had given him direction: take this off and open your mouth and hands and knees. The memory of it makes Pierre's throat tight. So good for me, he'd mumbled after, mouth pressing just under Charles' ear, and the yes sir he'd gotten back had thrown him right out of his own mind.
He grips the sketchbook tighter. There's no way this can ever happen again, he knows--once is a mistake and he'll keep it that way.
From the bed, Charles snores lightly. It's a soft sound: sweet, almost. Pierre's chest is so tight he swears he must've forgotten how to breathe.
"Oh, Charlie," he whispers to the quiet of the room, "what have I done?" Nothing good, he's certain. Pencil in hand, Pierre tries to redirect his thoughts to the work laid out on the desk behind him--dresses with angular cuts, wide-arm sleeves, the jagged lines of a belt that's been nagging at the back of his mind since he'd axed the last round of the designs from his main book.
What he ends up with is this: Charles, in charcoal, curled up in his expensive sheets. The most damning evidence of his lapse in judgment, and he can't even bring himself to rip the sketch to shreds because it feels like a waste--a waste of beauty, even if it's a beauty he can't have.
#TY BB i cant wait to answer ur other ideas hee hee <3#btw i have no idea WHAT this is please excuse me yet again#piarles#10 x 16#fic#romance prompt meme#ask reply#teamnick
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