#f1 oneshots
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tinder buddies | ln4
hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!
summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small
warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention
pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris
Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.
Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.
Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.
The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.
"u up?"
Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing"
The reply message appeared a moment later.
"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"
"And yet you see, surprise"
The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.
"wanna call?"
"I think you know the answer"
She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.
Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.
Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.
"New background?"
He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.
"I'm away from home"
"Work?"
"Too many questions"
There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.
"Yeah, you're right. Strip."
Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.
"You look good, baby. Red suits you"
She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.
"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"
"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"
Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.
"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."
She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.
"Does it feel good, baby?"
"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."
He chuckled and shook his head.
"You don't let me enjoy you"
He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.
"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"
He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.
The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."
“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”
Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.
Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.
"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."
"Someone has quite an ego here"
"I know my capabilities, baby."
She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.
"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."
His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.
"What does 33 mean?"
He asked when the girl started getting dressed.
"What?"
"Tattoo on your arm"
The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.
"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"
Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.
"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."
Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.
"Do you know Formula 1?"
He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.
"I know a thing or two"
"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"
The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.
"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"
Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?
"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."
The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.
"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"
“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”
She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.
After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.
"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."
"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."
He answered, also wiping himself.
“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”
“Good night, baby. You too.”
She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.
As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?
Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.
Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.
"Sure, no problem"
He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.
The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.
He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.
"How's your mood before qualifying?"
Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.
"What? Something wrong?"
The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.
He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.
"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."
Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.
Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.
"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."
Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.
"How do you know what I look like?"
"turn around"
Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.
"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"
She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.
"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"
Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.
"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."
Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.
Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.
"u know exactly why its tight"
"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."
When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.
"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"
#f1 imagines#f1 one shot#f1#formula 1#f1 oneshots#f1 imagine#lando norris#ln4#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut
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Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Explain
Requested: yes
Prompt: 18) "My mum thinks we're dating."
Warnings: Max being dumb asf
Y/n and Victoria had been friends for as long as they could remember. They would visit eachothers houses, carpool to school, go shopping on the weekends; you name it, they did it and they did it together. Now both girls had a set of rules for eachother and Victoria's number one rule was not a surprise at all; her brother was off limits. Y/n didn't have a problem with it because well, Max was older and they rarely talked. Even as children she didn't like him that way, mainly because as a child she thought he looked like a strange lizard of some sort. When Max became a Formula One driver, Y/n found herself with Victoria less and less due to her still having to stay in school, whilst Victoria travelled the world with her brother for a good part of the academic year. But it didn't tarnish their friendship in any way.
In fact, once Y/n graduated from high-school, Victoria managed to get her to a few races that the whole Verstappen family attended. She grew closer with the family as a whole and even became one of the regulars in the paddock after a while. However, Y/n went on to study in Italy and her paddock appearances were significantly lowered to once or twice a year.
The weekend of Monza 2023 was a special one to say the least. Y/n smiled as she walked into the paddock with Victoria, like she did every other time. The cameras took photos, like they did every other year and they walked straight to the hospitality. "I missed this place." Y/n sighed as she looked around the hospitality, holding her godson Luka's hand as he waddled about the place. "I know. They've changed a few things since you've been here last." Victoria smiled as she wheeled the stroller through the paddock. "And where is the golden boy himself?" Y/n asked, obviously referring to Victoria's now two-time world champion brother. "He's with Mama. They're having their weekly lunch like they usually do." Y/n nodded. "I can't wait to chill in the hospitality. I'd argue it'd my favourite place."
Just as she said she would, Y/n sat in the hospitality of Red Bull. She got her usual place; a table by the window that overlooked the whole paddock, and close enough to Ferrari so she could get a glimpse of Charles Leclerc walking by. All heads snapped around as the heard large footsteps pounding up the stairs and there appeared a delirious looking Max Verstappen. They locked eyes and Max began walking over to her quite quickly. Did he really miss her that much?
"Hi, Max. How are you-" Max sits down rapidly, making Y/n freeze and look at the dutchman as if he had two heads. "I have a problem. Well, no. We- we have a problem." Max said, stumbling on his words. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." Y/n chuckled as she continued to scroll through her phone. "I- I think I really messed up." Max muttered. Y/n scoffed in reply. "Can't be worse than the time you-" She paused and looked at the familiar face of Max's I fucked up face. "What did you do?" She asked, not putting the phone down. "I- You're going to hate me." Max said. "What have you done?" She asked again. "My mum thinks we're dating." Max blurted out, leaving both of them in stunned silence. "She what?!" She put her phone down and stood up. "I know! It was really dumb!" Max repeated over and over again. "Max! Why did you tell her that!"
"It was an accident!" Max replied defensively. "What exactly did you say?!" Y/n asked. "Well she said we would make a cute couple and I kind of joked that well, what if we were but nobody knew. And then she started smiling like that and asking questions so I just went with it so now-" He paused. "Now she thinks we're together." Max mumbled the last bit. "Max, you need to tell her we aren't!" Y/n said. "But why? She seems so happy-"
"Max! Victoria might actually murder me! I have known her since we were seven!" Y/n whisper shouted. "It'll be fine! She won't know, I am sure of it-"
"Y/n?" Y/n froze as she heard her loving friend Victoria call out her name. Max and Y/n turned to see Victoria walking towards them, almost in the same fashion that Max walked over just a matter of minutes ago. "Victoria, I can explain!"
"Oh I'm so happy for you both! It makes so much sense now! Why you were looking for him this morning, I mean." Vuctoria squealed, engulfing Y/n in a hug. Max stood up chuckling along. "You- you're not mad?" Y/n asked, audibly confused. "Mad? Of course not! Me and Mama have said it many times; that the two of you should be dating. It's about time, to be honest." Y/n smiled and looked between the two Verstappens. "And you! Oh thank goodness you found a nice girlfriend after that last one, she was horrible." Max nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Even Dad is happy about you two!" Max and Y/n didn't know what to say. "And you all want us to...date?"
"Yes! For the longest time. It was so obvious you liked eachother too. So, so obvious." Max looked down at Y/n. The pair's faces turned as red as the Ferrari garage next door. "Well, I'll let you two lovebirds have some alone time. Ill see you both later?" Victoria asked, getting ready to leave. "Yes. Definitely."
"That didn't go how I thought it would." Y/n muttered. "Are we missing something? Do we like eachother but we're just too stupid to tell?" Max asked. "I- I don't know." She whispered. "But, I think we should tell them we aren't together before this gets out of hand." Y/n went to walk, but felt her hand being grabbed. She looked back to see Max. "Or we just play along until it dies down." Max suggested. "That is possibly the most stupid thing you've ever said." Y/n retorted. "Bot really. We both get benefits out of dating. You get recognition for being my girlfriend which comes with brand deals, magazine shoots-"
"I would never date you just for the benefits. I date someone because I love them."
"So so you love me?" Y/n didn't really know how to respond to that. Her mouth opened and closed, searching for the words but she couldn't couldn't a singular sentence. Max's grin widened. "Don't even! I'll see you around." Y/n said storming off, her face red from embarrassment. "Okay. Bye my love!" Max teased. "Shut up!" Did she like him? Did she love him? No! Of course...well....maybe.
#f1 blurb#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#f1 oneshots#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen
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Kiss and Make Up || Daniel Ricciardo x Reader
Summary: With the couple on a break, it’s hard for Daniel to see Y/N, especially when she’s looking so good in his favourite dress.
Song: Kiss and Make Up - Dua Lipa & BLACKPINK
Warnings: 18+ oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. A little bit of swearing.
Word Count: 3.6k
a/n: I think (???) I’m getting a little better at writing smut. one day I swear I will write one without giggling after every sentence. enjoy!
Daniel's blood boils as he watches her, watches his girl at the centre of attention of his fellow drivers. He wants to be angry at her for entertaining them in the first place, but he's angrier at his so-called friends for gawking at her and passing off their obvious flirting as 'just being nice'. It's annoying because she knows she looks good - incredible, in fact - an emerald green satin dress hanging perfectly on her body, displaying just enough leg to be considered dangerous. It bothered him even more that he chose that particular dress, and now she was parading around in it for everyone to see; for everyone to stare and drool over her. He didn't like it one bit, but he didn't have a choice.
It was his fault that they were on a break. He'd lashed out, said horrible things. Tension had been brewing between them for a couple of weeks and she could sense he was about to burst. She hadn't done anything wrong; he could see that now. He'd had more than enough time to sit with his thoughts and come to regret everything he'd said, but she hadn't been interested in hearing his apology. At first, in his anger, he'd blamed her friends. He was convinced their influence had led her to her decision, that they'd been whispering in her ear and plotting against him for some time. However, deep down he knew it was nobody's fault but his own.
The 'will he, won't he' situation at Alpha Tauri had gotten the best of him. His overwhelming desire to race took up all of his attention, leaving Y/N completely on the sidelines. She'd understood, of course she had. Racing was Daniel's dream and she knew how important it was for him to find a seat and get back out on the track, but when things seemed to get difficult and look uncertain, Daniel directed his frustrations towards her.
"You're a fucking coward, d'you know that? Who are you to stand here and speak to me like that?"
"Oh, drop the bigger person act, Y/N. It wasn't too long ago that you were going through a rough time and - "
"Don't you fucking dare. You know that doesn't compare to the way you've been behaving. It is completely different."
"You know how important this is to me. Sorry, but I think I'm allowed to be a little stressed." He held his hands up in mock surrender which only irritated her further.
"A little stressed, yes. A total asshole? No."
"Where are you going?" He asked, watching her scoop up her phone and keys from the counter and stuff them into her pocket.
"Anywhere you are not. I can't be around you when you're like this, Daniel." Her voice cracked as she turned away, but she didn't allow him to see her cry. He may not have approved of her being the bigger person, but it's what she had to do. A text a couple of hours later confirmed her need for space, and after spending thirty straight minutes trying to type a response, Daniel realised he had to respect her wishes.
“Here.” Max interrupts, sliding a drink into Daniel’s hand.
“What’s this?”
“I couldn’t stand and watch you stare at her any longer. At least with a drink in your hand you actually look like you’re at this party and not just a creepy stalker.” He chuckles into his glass, the joke going over Daniel’s head, not even bringing the slightest smirk to his lips.
Max gulps, wincing a little at the strength of his drink. “Just go talk to her.” He says, eyes flicking between his friend and Y/N.
“I can’t. She wants space and I have to respect that.”
“Yeah, but anyone can see you’re not okay with that…”
Daniel knew Max had a point. As much as he wanted to give Y/N the space she needed and do everything he could to fix their relationship, he hated being away from her. He hated sitting across the room whilst she pretended he wasn’t there. She hadn’t looked at him once throughout the entire evening and it was starting to aggravate him. He needed to talk to her, even if it was just to find out how she was doing. He didn’t even know if that was a question he had the right to ask, but he wanted to anyway.
Plus, the way she was strutting around in those heels and playfully fixing her hair every few minutes was driving him insane. His eyes couldn’t resist following the trail from her feet, up her legs and to her hips. If she so much as leaned over the bar or stretched to grab something, he’d see beneath the thin green satin and hopefully find out she was wearing tiny, or perhaps no underwear.
He fidgets uncomfortably in his seat, setting his glass down on the table before his knuckles turn white from gripping it so tightly. As Y/N takes Carlos’ hand and twirls beneath his arm, Daniel jumps up from the stool, holding onto the table to steady his feet. “Hey, come on. You know they’re good friends.” Max warns, holding an arm out to try and stop him.
“Make your mind up, Max. You told me to go and talk to her.” He doesn’t even look at Max as he speaks, as his gaze remains fixed on Y/N whilst she dances with the Ferrari driver. There’s nothing suggestive between their dance, and it’s not the first time Daniel has seen them together like this, but he’s suddenly not as comfortable with it as he usually is.
“I think you should calm down a bit first.” Max tries to be stern with the older driver, but he knows his words are going through one ear and straight out the other side. Daniel glances at the Dutchman and gives only a second of thought to his words, then chooses to ignore them entirely.
Stepping past Max’s arm, he makes his way into the crowd and closer to Y/N. Mid-conversation, Charles and Pierre’s heads turn to the Australian as he weaves around clumsy partygoers, almost parting the room in two to get through. The two of them shuffle closer to the bar to get a better view as he reaches Carlos and places a hand on his shoulder.
“Can I cut in?” He asks, once again not bothering to look at who he’s speaking to. Instead he looks down at Y/N, who glares up at him with cold, unblinking eyes.
“Sure.” Carlos mutters, stepping aside, failing to notice Y/N tightening her grip on his hand to try and stop him. Daniel takes his place, his hands awkwardly hovering near her waist.
“Are you going to wrap your arms around me, or just stand there?” She asks abruptly, her tone coming out a lot more aggressively than she’d intended.
Daniel’s hands find her waist and pull her closer, making sure no one else can hear their conversation. Her hands are pressed against his chest awkwardly, all attention concentrating on her feet so she doesn’t fall.
“What do you want, Daniel?” She sighs, exasperation and downright exhaustion evident in her voice. This makes Daniel’s stomach turn and part of him wants to fall to the ground and beg for her forgiveness. He never thought he’d see the day when he’d be the one to make her feel like this. She was disappointed in him, and he was kicking himself for ever uttering a bad word to her.
“I need to apologise - “
“No, you just needed to get me on my own away from the guys.”
Her icy tone catches him off guard, but he feels he deserves it. As much as he’s desperate to finally apologise, he can’t deny that seeing her spending her night with everyone but him was making him jealous. He’d watched her friendships with the drivers blossom over time, especially Carlos and Lance, yet seeing their arms around her and smiles aimed in her direction tonight drove him crazy.
“Am I wrong?” She mocks, reluctantly wrapping her arms around his neck for the sake of her own comfort.
Daniel chooses not to answer, which is an answer in itself. She sniggers, looking off to the side to see the group all engaged in conversation with one another. She knows they’re all putting on an act and pretending not to eavesdrop. Those drivers love a gossip just as much as the next person.
“I don’t like seeing you with them.” Daniel finally admits, his voice low. He doesn’t intend for the entire grid to know his business.
“It’s never bothered you before.”
“Well this time is different.”
“How?”
“Because you’re not speaking to me.”
“And whose fault is that?”
Silence falls between the couple, Y/N’s hold around Daniel’s neck loosening. He reaches up and grabs her hands, readjusting them and holding her wrists tightly. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” She asks, glaring up at him, a devious smile poking at her lips.
“Don’t try to walk away from me.” He lets go of her arms, letting them float down to her sides as he leans in close, lips pressed against her ear. “Especially not when you’re dressed like that.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes at his words. A poor and sorry attempt at winning her back, yet completely expected from Daniel. “You think sex is going to fix this?”
“Who said anything about sex?” He plays dumb but she sees straight through him. That had always been a thing in their relationship; they were both terrible liars, or rather couldn’t lie to each other as the other could always spot it.
Stepping back, she calls over to Kika who’s stood between Pierre and Charles, tracing circles around the rim of her glass. “Bathroom.” She smiles and Kika nods, slipping away from the table.
Daniel sees this and steps forward, blocking Kika’s path. “Actually, she doesn’t need you to go with her.”
“Daniel - “ Y/N snaps, cut off by his arm linking with hers and pulling her in the direction of the bathrooms.
“Come on.” He barges through the doors, squeezing the two of them into the first stall and turning the lock.
“I can’t believe you just spoke to Kika like that.” She whispers angrily, yanking her arm out of his grasp.
“She’ll get over it.”
“Pierre won’t.”
Y/N folds her arms over her chest, leaning against the flimsy cubicle as Daniel’s eyes wander around the small space. She sighs, heels scraping against the ground as she stands back up straight. “Well you got me here. What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“Actually, I don’t. Did you bring me in here to apologise… or was there something else?” There’s a shift in her tone and a look in her eye that Daniel instantly recognises. He knows she’s still angry at him, but sees there’s a part of her that wants him just as much as he wants her.
Sparing her a proper response, he slips a knee between her legs and pushes her against the wall. It shakes a little, encouraging a small smile to appear on her face. “You disappoint me, Ricciardo.” She purrs, running a perfectly manicured finger across his jaw.
“Something tells me you’re not so disappointed.” He grinds his knee upwards, pressing it against her clothed pussy. She groans, body slumping forward in pleasure. He catches her with his chest, pushing her back up, keeping her upright against the wall. “Does that sound like the moans of a disappointed woman?”
“Shut up.” She hisses, delicate fingers wrapping around his throat to pull him in for a kiss. Daniel moans, the sound strangled as her nails dig into his neck. The kiss is entirely in her control as she holds him in place, squeezing his throat just enough to make his breath hitch. She draws back, sucking his tongue between her lips and letting it go with a quiet popping sound.
“If we do this, it doesn’t magically fix anything.” She breathes, releasing her grip on him to rest her hand on his chest.
Daniel is smart enough to know better, and knows that hasty sex in a bathroom stall isn’t going to mend all of their problems, but he’s too turned on and fuelled by liquid courage to care. Running his hand over the top of hers, he links their fingers and flips her around to face the wall, pressing her palm flat against the cold wood. She yelps in surprise as he uses his free hand to hike her dress up. He’s delighted to see the black lace that’s barely covering her, and he hooks his forefinger through the waistband to pull her ass towards him. “Planned on getting lucky tonight, huh?” He taunts, his fingers tracing the patterns in the lace.
“I was hoping one of the guys would take me home.” She quips sarcastically, bending over more and grinding her ass against his hand. Daniel groans, letting go of her hand so he can use both freely. He grabs her ass and spreads her legs, his mouth falling open at the sight of her pussy peeking through her underwear.
Wasting no time, he drops to his knees and pushes the thin string to the side, giving him full access to the part of her he needs the most. Feeling his hot breath against her exposed cunt, she gasps, parting her legs even further. “That’s it.” Daniel hums, taking his middle finger and running it slowly through her folds. Y/N’s legs quiver as he touches her, barely inserting a finger as he concentrates on circling her pussy and feeling just how soaked she is. His finger eventually finds its way to her clit, flicking gently against the swollen bud, making her whole body twitch with arousal.
She moans his name, the word elongated on her tongue. He stops for a second, lying his hand flat against her core. “Shh… You don’t want people hearing us now, do you?” He whispers.
Squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip to suppress any further sounds, Y/N nudges Daniel with her leg, urging him to continue. Instead, he grabs her thighs and pulls her closer to him, her feet sliding along the slippery tiled floor. “Let me taste you, baby.” The sound of his voice disappears between her legs, her thighs almost cupping his cheeks as he finds her clit with his tongue. The tip of his tongue swipes across her clit, slowly then repetitively in a rhythm. His hands hold onto her thighs tightly, his fingers leaving indentations in the supple skin.
Y/N sinks her teeth into the back of her hand, trying her best to stay quiet. Saliva and bite marks cover the spot just above her wrist whilst Daniel buries his head further and laps up her pussy like a starving animal. His nose pokes between her folds, and the newfound friction elicits a heavy exhale from deep within her chest.
Desperate to keep that nose she loves so much as close to her as possible, she reaches behind to grab Daniel’s head and guide him to the perfect spot. Fingers tangling in his hair and clutching at the roots, she rides his face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue flat against her clit, and the tip of his nose pressing into her. Daniel holds his breath as she ruts her hips against his face, gripping her thighs until it hurts. She winces, tensing the muscles as she rests her forehead against the wall, teeth still gnawing on her hand. He grunts, the sound sending a vibration to her clit and throughout her entire body, making her knees buckle beneath her. He catches her, supporting her body with his hands alone as he delves his face deeper to suck her clit into his mouth.
Losing all sense of caring, Y/N lets her hand fall free from her lips, releasing a stifled moan that echoes around the bathroom stall. Her thighs squeeze together involuntarily as she comes, and Daniel has to prize them open to set himself free. He stands, hands fumbling with his jeans as he sloppily lays kisses on the back of her shoulder, his chin still slick with moisture, so much so that Y/N can smell her own scent filling the air.
“What did I tell you about staying quiet?” Daniel whispers, his lips barely touching the back of her ear.
“I’m sort of sick of you telling me what to do.” She retorts, attempting to hide the shakiness in her voice. Daniel rolls his eyes, trying to ignore her words as he pushes his jeans and boxers down his legs, leaving them bunched around his ankles. He knows she’s not just talking about the present, but he’s too desperate to feel her wrapped around his cock to let it bother him. He hasn’t been able to touch her for weeks, and seeing her spread wide for him like this is enough to almost push him to the edge already.
Hands gripping her dress around her waist, he pulls her towards him, sliding his cock inside her effortlessly. Mutual gasps of pleasure and hissed curse words slip off of their tongues as he bottoms out inside of her, his clammy hands losing grip of the satin. Reaching round to grab her arms, he crosses her wrists and holds them behind her back, forcing her cheek against the wall to support her upper body. There’s an aggression to his actions, one hand holding her wrists and another snaking its way into her hair. Tugging her head back, he leans forward, his face beside hers. She looks at him through her peripheral vision, a smug smile on her face as she notices his slack jaw and half-lidded eyes. Daniel was never truly in control when it came to Y/N. The effect she had on him was dangerous and made him want to do things unimaginable. All she had to do was look at him a certain way and he’d literally and figuratively drop to his knees for her.
Daniel’s slow thrusts tell her that he doesn’t plan on lasting very long. Despite his tight hold on her and rough fingers in her hair, his hips roll in leisurely circles, the tip of his cock stroking her g-spot in a deliciously torturous rhythm. The restroom door creaks, a collection of footsteps clattering along the floor outside. With shadows passing the stall and voices filling the space, Daniel drops his hand from Y/N’s hair, instead using it to cover her mouth and keep her quiet. She tilts her head, sucking his forefinger into her mouth, her tongue wet and warm and making Daniel’s cock twinge inside of her. He moans, trying to swallow the sound so nobody will hear.
Daniel’s wet finger trails out of her mouth and down her neck, drawing a line of her own saliva along her throat. Wrapping his arm across her upper body, he holds her close as he fucks her, the heat between them making his shirt stick to his chest. Beads of sweat run down the back of Y/N’s neck and under her dress. Even beneath the harsh bathroom lighting, her skin glistens and looks good enough for Daniel to taste, to lick clean.
Voices gather at the sinks, water running and paper towels unravelling from the holders. Daniel silently prays for them to hurry up and leave, the feeling of Y/N’s pussy clenching around his dick becoming too much to bear. The muffled sounds of the music outside briefly fill the room, before disappearing behind the door. He releases his breath with a long groan, his body slumping against hers. “Finally.” He hisses, stepping back and pulling her ass with him, bending her into a perfect L-shape.
Relieved to be alone again, their pants and moans circle around the stall as Daniel drives his hips back and forth, quickening the pace. His firm grip on her ass cheeks leaves little white outlines around his fingers as he coaxes himself to climax. Hearing the sweet sounds coming from her mouth sends him over the edge, his thighs stiffening as he comes inside her, his body jolting forward in ecstasy. She straightens, resting her body against the wall with Daniel pressed against her back, his sweaty forehead slumped onto her shoulder. He pulls out with a huff, his cock leaking with cum and legs feeling sore.
Y/N readjusts and pulls her dress down, smirking to herself as she feels cum drip out of her and pool inside her underwear. She runs her hands through her hair, hoping she looks presentable as she turns to face Daniel. He zips his jeans and smiles at her, but doesn’t earn a smile back. “I told you, this doesn’t change anything.” She states flatly, reaching for the lock. He stops her, taking her hand in his.
“Come home with me.” He pleads, running his thumb softly over her knuckles, a stark contrast to the way he’d touched her just a few minutes prior.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Daniel’s expression remains serious. He opens his mouth to repeat himself, but she cuts him off with a defeated sigh. “Fine. But we leave now. I don’t need to be dealing with questions.”
“Deal.” He smiles, earning an eye roll from her as she unlocks the door and heads out, her heels clicking against the tile. He follows close behind, the satisfied grin never leaving his face.
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The Dress
Summary: Fernando Alonso is the biggest flirt in Formula One and he particularly likes flirting with you. This is what happens when you happen to wear a dress he more than likes. Rating: 16+ with adult, mature themes Pairing : Fernando Alonso x Reader Word Count : 958 - ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : NSFW themes implied, flirting, age gap relationships and a little sprinkle of judgey colleagues Images : Found on Pinterest 💕 Authors Note : I forgot to answer this as a request 🫠
List : List A. Prompt : #143 - “You look beautiful. But I’m afraid you’d look more gorgeous with that dress off you.” (Note: line changed to - ““You wear such a beautiful dress and don’t expect me to be the one taking it off you?”
Fernando was a flirt. A first class, top rate flirt. As soon as you joined the paddock as an onscreen presenter last year you realised this. You grew up watching the man race so to have him in front of you constantly trying to get you to blush was perhaps the most flattering thing to ever happen in your life. Your stomach twisted when you noticed he was walking over. His PR handler giving you the knowing nod before he himself reached you. He had had a podium finish (P3) so you knew he was going to be more flirtatious than usual with you.
“Ah” He smiled broadly. “Mi Princesa de la television.” He called you by the nickname he had bestowed upon you mid last season – which, with the help of Google translate, you worked out meant my television princess – and was always a sure fire way to make you smile for him. You found the older man more handsome since he made his move to Aston Martin. Not that he wasn’t handsome before but the dark green set off against his lovely tanned skin really got you going. This year he seemed like he was more relaxed and gave insightful, thoughtful answers to your questions more than his frustrating years at Alpine.
Your interview with him went by in the blink of an eye and not once did he ever break eye contact with you which meant you spent the whole time keeping your heart rate under control. You never failed to get big smiles out of him and today, celebrating his podium, was no different. Your “friendship” with Fernando was something that made you the envy of other journalists in the paddock. He was always your easiest interviewee and saved all the good sound bites especially for you. As you noticed the light on the top of your cameraman’s camera go off – signalling you were no longer live – Fernando couldn’t wait to take the opportunity suddenly handed to him. In perfect English he asks you; “What are your plans tonight?” Which resulted in you explaining you were intending to pack your suitcase so you were ready for your early morning flight home. Fernando replies quickly with a defiant head shake and practically orders you into having dinner with him.
“Fernando I cant, it’s really not,” You were going to say appropriate but he stopped you midsentence. He leaned in across the barrier, his hot breath ghosted across your cheek. For the briefest of moments you thought he might kiss you and cause a hell of a media storm but he didn’t. He simply continued toward your ear. His lips dangerously close to it when he was the boldest he had ever been.
“You wear such a beautiful dress and don’t expect me to be the one taking it off you?” His words dripped with his strong Spanish accent. They lashed at the sensitive skin on your neck as you tried hard not to let out a shocked gasp at his words. It was the first time he had been so bold since he had began this dance of flirting with you. The sudden forwardness sent a strong pulsating ache straight between your thighs as you thought about him doing exactly what he suggested, removing your dress.
“And now you’re thinking about me naked.” He pulled back and smirked broadly. It made you laugh. Really laugh. Enough that other people snapped their necks to check out what was going on. You didn’t need to see the reactions of your fellow journalists because you could already feel their eyes on you (and their no doubt disapproving looks). They hadn’t been able to hear what Fernando had whispered to you but the action of him leaning in like that was clearly enough to spark their imaginations.
“Dinner, Hermosa. Then you can decide if that dress looks better on or on my hotel room floor.” They had certainly heard that one. He hadn’t bothered to lower his voice this time. As one older, European commentator tutted audibly – It would have been dumb of you not to register his reaction as him attempting to shame you for being a rather above average looking woman working in motorsport (as if you hadn’t already faced all of their degrading comments about your looks almost every single race weekend already) but you realised you didn’t care – you felt an unexpected boldness grip hold of you that somewhat mimicked the man standing in front of you (trying hard not to check out your boobs in your dress).
“Dinner.” Fernando raised his eyebrow at your acceptance “And then we will see about the dress.” He had never heard you so confident before. You crumbled whenever he would toy with you but this time you accepted his offer in the most alluring manner you could muster. You had always been a nervous flirt - always the one to back down when it started getting too obvious – but now, in this setting with colleagues ready to judge you, you simply thought “fuck it”. If this was your one chance to fuck a formula one driver by hell you were going to take it.
#fernando alonso#fernando alonso imagine#fernando alonso imagines#fernando alonso fanfic#fernando alonso fanfiction#fernando alonso fic#fernando alonso one shot#fernando alonso oneshots#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso x y/n#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 one shot#f1 oneshots#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n
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A kiss, a Cake, a Flight, and a Heart Attack
Or four mornings where Charles wakes you up.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
Request: read here
Warnings: Language, sexual implications, slight nudity, google translate italian (once), mentions of burns and fire, charles needing to stay away from the kitchen.
a/n: one thing about me is i will have charles mess up in the kitchen… But i actually had fun writing this and i hope you’ll like it! It’s a long one cause i added a bit to the request so buckle up (thank u @stcrgazings for helping me with this one) & Big, big apology to the person who sent the request cause it was sent in october🙃
A kiss and i’m all yours for the day:
He’d been awake for hours now, moving from room to room, doing random things, fidgeting around the apartment, struggling to find something to occupy himself with.
He had this habit that occasionally classified as a bad one. By six in the morning, he’d be up and running no matter what, even on his days off like it was the case today.
Sometimes, he would go to bed at night with the decision made that he was gonna sleep in the next day, only for his biological clock to ring it’s alarm right as the sun begins to rise, his body too used to waking up early.
The situation was no different this time. He woke up at a quarter to six, refused to get out of bed for over half an hour, hoping and praying he’d go back to sleep until he lost hope and stumbled out of the bedroom with stomping feet, and now he was awake all alone, sat on the balcony with a cup of fresh juice on the table by his side, gazing at an elderly neighbor in the apartment accros from him as the man sat watching TV, drinking coffee and chatting with someone that was out of Charles’ field of vision.
The sunlight was still a soft glow, slowly illuminating the streets, casting Monaco under its golden, calm spell, and in the midst of this scene was Charles, looking so serene, but oh so bored with his legs propped up on another chair as he waited for the clock to tick a bit more, anticipating the moment when you’d finally stretch your arms above your head and groan in bed, signaling that you were awake, not happily but awake all the same.
He waited over an hour like that. He scrolled on his phone, listened to music, read a few pages of a book he had bought a few days ago, made himself breakfast and ate it… It seemed like he did so much, like a lot of time had passed but when his finger met the screen of his phone in a gentle tap and his eyes read the numbers on the screen, he let out a loud groan at how early it still was. It wasn’t even seven yet and so he sat patiently until that patience wore thin after a few moments.
Hoping it was now a decent hour to wake you up, he tapped his phone screen again to check the time, only to be disappointed once more by the numbers reading just a few minutes past 7.
“Putain.” Fuck. He mumbled to himself and threw his head back.
It was a day off, and what he loved about his days at home was that he got to spend them with you, but he couldn’t help that he was an early riser and you just about despised the morning, and so he waited.
Around eight, his patience had run out and his boredom levels had skyrocketed.
Usually, you woke up around 9:30 and so, he sat there for five more minutes, his mind getting decently creative with the gaslighting methods it was pulling on itself to reach the conviction that it was close enough to nine thirty.
It wasn’t, it really wasn’t but Charles got up nonetheless, leaving his cup and book right where they were as he headed straight to the bedroom as not to give himself any time to rationalize this.
His hand reached for the cold knob, he opened the door and peaked his head inside to sneak a look at his soundly asleep girlfriend.
You looks so peaceful and relaxed, asleep on your stomach, the fluffy covers blurring the outline of your body, leaving him to admire what was visible: you hiding your face in his pillow, hugging it close to you simultaneously.
An advantage of him waking up before you every day was that he got to witness this, the fact that you found comfort in his scent lingering on his side of the bed and on his pillowcase. Sometimes the sight gave him a weird sense of melancholy, especially on days where he was in a rush, with nowhere near enough time to appreciate this. Sometimes, i tugged at his heart since it left him picturing you asleep, all alone while he was across the world from where he was supposed to be, right by your side.
Today, it made him smile widely as his heartbeat picked up its pace.
He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him again then started taking cautious steps to the bed where he got back in under the sheets with you and slowly pried the pillow out of your grip, replacing it with himself.
He pulled you into his chest, grinning widely when he felt your arms subconsciously wrap around his waist and your head snuggle into the crook of his neck like it was instinct, his shirtless state making this so much better for him.
Mindlessly, his hand reached for your hair, his fingers brushing through it carefully while he leaned his face forward and placed a quick kiss onto the top of your head, making you snuggle further into his chest.
With a lingering smile, he spoke in a low voice, “Bonjour, chérie.”
Instantly, that made you groan, because even in your barely conscience state, you knew that little sentence was Charles’ morning shenanigans kicking off.
“Uh-uh.” You grumbled, hiding your face completely against his shoulder, hoping he would take the hint, and when he went silent and still for a few minutes, you really thought he did. You fell back into deep slumber while holding him, falsely assuming he was gonna leave you to be.
However, this was Charles, insistant as ever. His silence was in fact just him plotting.
“Baby, come on. Lève-toi.” Get up. His voice was soft and hushed as his hand slipped down your body, under the sheets and right under your oversized shirt -his shirt that you were sleeping in, his fingertips delicately meeting the soft skin to lightly trace patterns up and down your back, eliciting goosebumps on your skin, the feather feel of his touch making you arch into him instinctively.
Your complaint was half-hearted, spoke into his neck in the form of a groan of his name, the vibrations of it sending a shiver down his spine.
“Oui?” He whispered, feigning clueless about the fact that this was a complaint.
“Fuck off.” You mumbled back, making his lips twist up in a smile that slowly progressed into a slight chuckle that you too felt against your chest while Charles allowed his head to rest against the headboard.
“Tu veux pas te réveiller?” You don’t wanna wake up? He asked, already knowing the answer to that.
“Too early for baguettes.” You whined again, rolling off his body, back onto the mattress, covering your head with the pillow to tune your annoying boyfriend out.
Meanwhile, Charles was trying to figure out who even mentioned baguettes, because he sure didn’t.
“Baguettes?” He frowned.
“Ugh…” you sighed, “English, Charles. Too early for french.”
Just as your muffled voice met his ears, his laughter took ahold of him, shaking his body and the bed along with it.
The plan to keep your eyes shut under all circumstances, the only guarantee to another meeting with sleep, was failing. You gave up and peeked at him, tossing the pillow onto his head, “I hate you, Leclerc.”
Charles, with a quick reaction, grabbed the pillow and held it to his chest while your hands rubbed at your face, moving up to angrily toss back your hair that had covered your face.
You propped your body up on your elbows and rubbed your eyes again, pouting as you did so, leaving Charles, who still had a soft smile lighting up his features as he watched you with soft eyes, to take in the adorable sight of your messy hair and pouty lips.
“That’s okay, amour. You’ll go back to loving me in an hour.” He smiled, in his head the scenes of the many forced early mornings replaying.
“No, ‘cause i’m going back to sleep.” You remarked, frustration bubbling in your chest at his insistence.
Forcefully, you yanked onto the sheets, forming them into a cocoon covering you up to your head.
“But, baby… I’m home with you all day today.” Charles sounded disappointed now, but you were too sleepy and not awake enough yet to argue with him on the subject.
However, in your head, you were wondering why the fuck did a day off need to start as early as school does? It was truly beyond you, the answer to that question.
“Alright, then…” you heard him rustle off the bed, sighing as he did, “I did tell Andrea i don’t wanna train today so i can stay here with you,” he explained as he started opening and closing closets and drawers, “if you’re too sleepy to spend time with me - which is totally fine by the way, i’ll just give him a call and tell him to meet me at the gym or something.”
You blinked your eyes open at the statement, the disappointment tainting his tone and the fact that he so desperately wanted a full day with just you just now sinking in. You wanted to spend time alone with him as well. It would be so utterly disappointing if you woke up later to realize you had wasted this opportunity.
By the sounds of it, Charles was already dressed since you heard zippers being pulled up and clothes being tossed around.
Blinking your eyes repeatedly, you sighed and prepared to interrupt his plan, but before you could, you heard him unlock his phone, probably preparing to call Andrea.
Hurriedly, you pulled the duvet off your head and mumbled, “Charles, wait…”
However, there he was, stood in the middle of the room, grinning like an idiot, still shirtless and in his sleep shorts.
His trick had worked perfectly and now you were awake and he had absolutely no plans whatsoever to meet up with Andrea and as you glared at him with a piercing gaze, he broke out in a laugh and practically jumped on top of you, the covers still covering you cushioning his weight as his arms wrapped around you.
“Good morning.” He smiled widely while looking down at you.
“That was low, Leclerc.” You pushed at his shoulder, frowning deeply.
With one eyebrow raised, he replied, “I can still call Andrea.”
“You know what? Maybe you should. You are a pain in the ass at this point, Charles.”
His arms snuck around your waist to firmly hold your body to his as he flipped the two of you over so you were comfortably laying on his chest.
“Now you’re just hurting my feelings.” He playfully said, watching as your head found it resting place on his shoulder, “I though you would like that i’m all your for the day.”
The annoyance on your side was beginning to waver, a small smile now replacing the frown on your face as you spoke against his skin, “You’re all mine every day.”
“Of course i’m always yours, baby.“ His heart was beating faster as he spoke and admired your slowly relaxing features, “I just mean i’m home with you today.” Charles kissed your forehead.
“Um, i do love that, bébé.” You reassured, your hand trailing up to his cheek, you fingers running along his jawline, feeling the stubble that had grown, “It’s just your morning chronicles that i hate.”
“Just think of it as more time together, all alone in our apartment.” He replied, leaning into your touch, “Now, give me my good morning kiss.”
That, you would never refuse so, your lips met his in a sweet kiss throughout which, you felt his hands on the smile of your back, hugging you to him as your lips moved briefly against his before you relaxed back on his chest, accepting your fate that your day was gonna start now.
“What time is it?” You asked out of curiosity, yawning at the end of the sentence and lifting yourself a bit, getting ready to get out of bed.
Instead of an answer, Charles just gave you a tight-lipped, wide smile and pulled you back down, telling you he loves you right against your ear.
“What’s important is that we’re gonna spend so much time together, n’est ce pas?” …right? The cheesy smile he was displaying showed you one thing. It was still early as fuck.
✩★✩
A cake and a weird smell:
The previous night had been amazing. The party was loud and chaotic but absolutely perfect. The music was picked right to your taste, the drinks were all your favorites and all the people you loved were all gathered under one roof, all having fun with seemingly no other cares in the world.
And Charles… he was - and is - the best boyfriend on so many different scales. His insistence on making every day special went above any beyond on special occasions, especially on your birthday. He had organized everything to utmost perfection, planning every detail of your birthday party himself, down to the type of confetti used and the font on the “Happy Birthday” banner hanging elegantly on the entrance of the club he had chosen for the occasion.
In fact, he had planned everything down to his own appearance for the night, picking out your favorite clothes of his, styling his hair how you liked it - just the right proportion of messy and put together, using your favorite perfume of his and putting on the ring you loved so much.
Last night’s surprises were perfect and the way he took care of your every need once the two of you were finally alone, in the dimly lit environment of your bedroom, was even more than that.
Even falling asleep in his arms was perfect, but now, at past ten in the morning, he was awake and out of bed and you were back to hugging his pillow to make up for his absence.
Charles had woken up later than usual today due to how late he stayed up last night, but as soon as he was awake, he put on some sweatpants and headed right for the kitchen, pulling an apron over his bare chest before starting to dig through the cabinets, pulling out all the ingredients and utensils he needed until he was left with a pile of stuff on the counter. His eyes were still scanning the things he prepared as he grabbed his phone and rung up his mom for help.
“Maman, j’ai besoin que tu me donne la recette la plus facile que tu sais pour faire un gâteau.” Mom, i need you to give me the easiest cake recipe you know. He rushed over the phone and when his mom started telling him what to do, he put her on speaker and started following the directions silently, only interrupting the flow with small remarks such as “Attend, y a des coquilles d’œufs dans le bol.” Wait, there’s eggshells in the bowl.
Charles, for once, was more than meticulous with absolutely everything. He had triple checked the amount and the label of each ingredient he added before mixing with extra caution to make sure he wouldn’t be making a mess. By the end of the preparations, he was so sure this cake would turn out just like his mother’s, delicious and homey, made with so much love and that alone left him beaming as, in his mind, he imagined your reaction to him waking you up to something he made you himself.
Once he poured the batter into the cake mold and put it in the oven, he said goodbye to his mother and went to check on you.
Like always, he was grinning like an idiot as soon as his eyes met the sight of the one he loves so dearly. He stilled in his spot and leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his chest while he silently watched you sleep, your bare back and your messy hair being the only two clear parts of you that were showing. Still, that was enough to leave him with thoughts of his love for you and for the simple thought that you were his girl, that he was the one you loved.
Charles, in opposite to all other mornings, was being extra cautious not to wake you up just yet. That would ruin his plan, what would subsequently put him in a bad mood since he’s been planning this for weeks, the only thought in his head while doing so being the smile you’d give him when he woke you up with another surprise, this time one that’s just yours and his to see and remember. Days ago, he snuck out while you were busy and bought you the gift he would be giving you today.
Sighing contently, he closed the bedroom door again and headed for the living room where he sat down for a total of about 10 minutes since he was unable to stop checking on the cake, anxiously waiting to decorate it with the candles he had secretly bought and hid in the highest cupboard, the only one you couldn’t reach. However, he eventually got carried away when he had to take a call related to the mechanics of this season’s car. The issue was that the car was doing everything but functioning according to calculations and so the call went on for longer than he was expecting and he was getting worked up over the conversation, what bugged him even more because he was supposed to be in a good mood today.
“Mi dispiace, devo andare. Forse ne parleremo di nuovo domani?” I’m sorry, i have to go. We’ll talk about this again tomorrow maybe? He ended the conversation and rushed to the oven, already cursing since the smell invading the kitchen wasn’t quite right.
With oven mitts ready, he opened the door and a whiff of smoke burst out.
It was bad.
His eyes narrowed to protect themselves from the heat and smoke as he grabbed the cake pan and brought it out onto the nearby counter.
Immediately, his shoulders dropped and his heart sank at the sight.
The cake looked burnt to a crisp, dark as coal. It looked so bad, he had to bite his lip and look away so he wouldn’t break out in a stream of cuss words.
What was he supposed to do now? He wanted this special moment with you so badly, it was making him feel helpless that he wouldn’t get to surprise you like he had been planning.
He angrily turned off the oven and closed its door back up.
His mind was racing and he was indescribably angry now as he paced back and forth, wishing he had some sort of a back up plan, but he didn’t because he really thought this was foolproof, and it would’ve been if it wasn’t for that damn call.
Charles felt hopeless now. This was supposed to be your own little private celebration of your birthday after a very public party yesterday, something to remember years down the line when you’re all grown, most probably married, after you’ve had kids that would steal most of your privacy, leaving you to reminisce on moments of recklessness and affection that you shared unbothered during your dating days, these current days. This morning was supposed to be special.
“Bordel de merde.” Fucking shit. He cursed, tossing away the mitts still in his fist before storming out of the kitchen onto the balcony, trying to escape the awful burning smell filling the apartment.
The road below was busy and loud. Thankful for the distraction, Charles watched while still trying to figure something out, his eyes following a pedestrian running along the sidewalk until a store down the street caught his attention, making an idea spark in his head.
Within a minute, he was dressed and out of the apartment, practically hurling down the sidewalk until he burst through the door of the shop, a patisserie.
“S’il vous plaît, dites moi que vous avez un gâteau que je peux acheter immédiatement.” Please, tell me you have a cake i can buy immediately. He blurted with no greeting, taking the two workers who instantly recognized him by surprise. They stood there dumbfounded and staring at him like he was a ghost until one of them snapped out of it and went up to help him.
Luckily, there was a few plain white cake that they make for last-minute orders, so they wrote on it what Charles had asked them to and just like that, he was hurrying back home with relief, the smile having returned to his face.
He wanted for this to seem more laid back so he changed back into his sweatpants, deciding that there was no need for a shirt, then he opened just about every window in the house to let out the awful smell and he cleaned up the kitchen before taking a look around to made sure everything was spotless. Once he was satisfied, he got the cake out of the box, reached for the hidden candles and meticulously placed on in it, grabbed the small bag that had your final gift from it’s hiding place and he made his way to the bed.
He rested the objects in his hands on the nightstand and he climbed in next to you, burying his face in your neck, sealing a quick kiss against the soft skin there.
“Bébé…” he started softly, his hand moving your hair away and massaging your shoulders as he moved around to kiss your cheek, his soft trail of cautious kissed trailing towards your exposed back.
Even in your sleep, a shiver ran down your spine when his lip met the spot between your shoulders and without even knowing it, your head tilted to the side to give him more room to kiss your neck.
Charles knew you like he knew the back of his own hand. You absolutely melted the second he would start kissing your jawline and you neck. It was by far your favorite place to be kissed and he always acknowledged that, always payed extra attention to the supple skin under all circumstances. No matter the situation, he loved your reactions to his soft kisses.
Like always, he awaited the response and watched your body respond to him with a small lazy smile on his face. His hands moved down your sides, down to your waist until he was able to pull you to him while you groaned at him, taking the covers with you before accepting your fate and snuggling up against him.
You leg hiked up until it was resting on his waist, locking him in beside you for the moment as you reveled in the feeling on his fingers tracing down your spine and his breath fanning on your forehead.
He know you wouldn’t complain about the time he was waking you up at today, but he also knew it wouldn’t be any easier to wake you up. Your hatred for waking up was a staple of your personality and so, over the time, he came to the conclusion that the slower and the softer he woke you up, the better your mood would be, so he planned to let you take your time today.
Your thumb moving on his waist where your arm was resting was enough of a sign to him that it would be minutes before you would flutter your eyes open and blink up at him lovingly like always.
His arm remained around your body while he folded the other under his head, giving himself just enough leverage to be able to quietly gaze at you.
He had an amazing ability to catch the hints you throw and to pick up your cues with perfect accuracy, enough accuracy to know his cue when it came, so for now, he just littered kisses anywhere he could reach, the top of your head and cheeks mostly, making you smile as you slowly took awareness of the room, the surrounding sounds and the texture of Charles’ sweatpants against your bare legs.
Judging by the smile slipping your sleep, today might actually be one of the rare good mornings that you actually enjoy and Charles was ecstatic. All he wanted was for you to be happy and comfortable. That was the case for every second of his being, for every day of his life since he first laid eyes on you, so one can only imagine the amount of joy he wished for you on the morning after your birthday. He felt something foreign to him every time he spent a special occasion by your side, something bigger than him and beyond his understanding, like he would literally offer you his world and all of the stars just as soon as he finds a way to wrap them up into a present decorated just as beautifully as you were.
There was a breeze traveling through the apartment, tickling your skin in its passing, giving you goosebumps that got you pulling the covers up to fully cover your body, frowning and pouting as you did so, successfully pulling Charles’ heart into a spontaneous dance that oftentimes took him by utter surprise. Loving you was so special, so rejuvenating that Charles knew he would never get used to it; it would always feel new and fulfilling.
He couldn’t resist it. He leaned over, kissed your lips lightly and pulled away smiling, the thoughts in his head still intoxicating him, but he was surprisingly met with an objection in the form of your arms wrapping around his neck, bringing him back in for another kiss with your eyes still shut.
His hand rested on the side of your neck as he kissed you, this thumb moving so delicately along the skin while you scooted closer and closer to him, never giving up a chance to be in his arms. For a minute, thoughts of cakes and gifts got lost between your lips and his and the way they moved in synchrony against each other, as if all along, they were meant to find each other in the deepest and darkest depths of life, like you and Charles were always meant to find each other, and so he kissed you.
He kissed you with everything in him, with every ounce of love he’s ever felt in his life, all while under the charming casted spell of your hand on the side of his neck, comforting every bad thought that had ever troubled him.
He didn’t have it in him to pull away, so he kissed you until you broke away and looked up at him with sleepy, but shining and glimmering eyes, ones so full of love, it made him blush ever so shyly as a wide smile creeped up on his face, lighting up his features and prompting him to wrap you in a tight hug while you giggled against his chest, a smile on your face – a rare sighting at such a time.
That’s when he snapped out of it, right as you whispered a hoarse but soft “Bonjour” to him.
His body was still shielding the sight of the cake and gift away from you and for that he was thankful. He didn’t want the surprise getting spoilt.
He straightened up just as you lifted yourself off him, still using the fluffy duvet to cover yourself up as you stretched your arms in front of you, you eyes tight-shut as you yawned one last time and turned sideways to face him.
Charles was quick and opportunistic. Within those few seconds, he had grabbed the cake and held it up in front of you. He was just lighting the last candle as you turned to face him, your brows instantly raising as a big smile appeared on your face.
“You did not.” You sighed, the feeling in your chest indescribable.
“Tu mérites le monde. Ça, c’est rien.” You deserve the world. This, it’s nothing. He grinned, bringing the cake closer to you, but you couldn’t even shift your gaze away from him at that moment.
Your eyes locked with his happy ones, the color of them seeming way lighter as he looked at you for a second too long, making you chuckle and look down as your cheeks heated up. He couldn’t help it though. The way you looked at him always captivated him, the thought that someone could love him that much, as much as your looks were telling him that you do, giving him an urge to drop everything and run away with you.
“Come on, bébé. Make a wish.”
You looked back up at him and shut your lids, the one wish you could think of after such an amazing birthday being plainly obvious. You repeated it three times in your heart, hoping and praying that it would come true before you blew the candles and opened your eyes to the sight of Charles swiping his finger across the lettering – “Joyeux Anniversaire, mon cœur” Happy birthday, my heart – gathering whipping cream before leaning closer and putting it on your nose, making you laugh while he took in just how happy you seemed, just how happy he was and just how adorable you looked.
He wanted to keep this memory. Years down the road, this sight of you would be one of the things he’d want to show your kids.
“Peux-je prendre une photo?” Can i take a picture? He made sure to ask, his eyes sparkling as he smiled.
Laughing, you replied, “Mon cœur, je suis nue.” My heart, i am naked.
You looked down at the covers pulled up to right under your neck.
“I’ll make sure there’s nothing showing. Plus, it’s only for me to see.”
You thought for a mere second then you nodded and gestured for him to hand you the cake. You posed for him, pulling a silly face at first that efficiently showed you your favorite sight in the world, Charles’ dimples as he smiled from behind his phone.
He inspected the photos a few minutes later while you hugged him with a fluttering heart just before he gave you the gift he had prepared then made sure to feed you enough cake for three birthdays.
However, as soon as you were out of the bedroom, a burning smell invaded your senses, making you question Charles about it, prompting him to tell you the story of his burnt cake with embarrassment tinging his tone.
“Aw, baby.” You hooked your arms around his neck and pulled him in, planting a kiss onto his blushed cheek, “I still appreciate that, Charles. You are adorable and you’ve done more than enough for me these two days, bébé.” You reassured, inching you lips closer to his until they met in a passionate, feverish kiss.
It was safe to say that was one of the few mornings you actually loved, if it counts as a morning.
✩★✩
A flight and a bit of a fight:
Just because the location and the bedroom were different didn’t mean the morning dynamics between you and Charles changed, except this time, he had no choice but to wake you up in a hurry, fully knowing he’d have to face a grumpy girlfriend for the first hour of the day.
For the first time in a while, you had taken the decision to accompany Charles to a Grand Prix, packing up and taking off with him mid-week, both of you beaming at the thought of extra time together.
Make no mistake, it had all went amazing but then Monday morning came around and you had to catch the flight back home, at 6:30 in the morning, meaning you’d have to be at the airport even earlier than than.
It was a personalized hell for both you and Charles, you for obvious reasons and him because he’d be on the receiving end of the complaints. There was no way this was gonna end with anything but a fight, but it was the only flight to Nice airport with an opening and you had no other option than to board it.
Charles, tired from the weekend and in need of sleep as well, wasn’t too happy about the timing either, but he pulled himself through it. He got up while it was still dark outside and got everything ready, even preparing the suitcases and carry ons to go, leaving you asleep for as much time as he could, but the clock was ticking closer to the time you’d have to get going and he had to wake you up at that point.
He headed to the kitchenette in the suite beforehand, preparing your coffee for you in your travel cup, hoping that would help his case a bit and when he had no other choice but to go disturb your sleep, he grabbed the cup and very quietly entered the bedroom, drew the blinds and neared the bed, putting the travel mug on the nightstand and crouching down by your side.
“Baby…” He started, hating this already, “You have to wake up.”
No response.
He sighed. “Listen, mon coeur, we can’t do this today.” He brushed back your hair and kissed your cheek, “The flight won’t wait for us.”
No response as well.
“Oh, c’mon. You knew i had to wake you up early today.” He shook you by the shoulder, just enough that you stirred.
He thought that was a good sign, a really good one but then you grabbed the duvet and covered your head with it and he groaned in such annoyance.
He didn’t have the energy for this, not today. He was just as exhausted. He also needed a lot more sleep and his burning eyes were a constant reminder of that.
“Baby,” he practically shouted, “get up. Get up.” Charles repeated, then said your name so many times and he still got nothing.
He called for you again, leaning down above your sleeping figure now, “You have ten minutes to wake up. We can’t be late.” He tried to keep his voice gentle but he was struggling. He was in such a bad mood, it was astounding. He also wasn’t a fan of the time of the flight but what was he supposed to do?
Charles just kept trying and retrying to get you up until his patience had started wearing thin.
He grabbed the blanket and pulled it away from you, grabbed your hand and started tugging on it gently, cooing your name like that’s gonna help.
“Baby, please.” He was practically whining now, shoulders slouched as he struggled to maintain his composure.
“Fuck off.” Charles heard you mumble into the pillow. Usually that would be a sign of progress but today he took it personally for some reason.
“Great. Perfect even. I’ll just leave you here.” He let go off your hand and covered you back up before crossing the room and leaving it, heading into the main chamber of the suite.
“Je vais me perdre la tête dans cinq minutes.” I’m gonna lose it in five minutes. He was mumbling to himself as he paced back and forth, aware he couldn’t just leave you here. He wouldn’t do that, he loved you too much to be that cruel with you, so he found himself huffing and stumbling back into the room, preparing himself for another round of frustration, the time passing making his anxiety rise as it did.
Much to his surprise though, he walked in and was greeted with the sight of you sat in bed with a blank expression on your face, but hey! Your eyes were opened at least!
“Bonjour, bébé.” He said, his tone still tinged with the annoyance he had been feeling. He still attempted a smile nonetheless, but he was slightly scared of your expression.
“Fuck off, Leclerc.” You replied, gesturing for him to get out.
“Oh, ne fais pas ça!” Oh, don’t do this! He groaned and came closer, “Tu savais qu’on doit se lever tôt aujourd’hui, pour qu’on prenne le vol.” You knew that we’d have to wake up early today, to catch the flight. Charles attempted to remind you, now kneeling one knee on the mattress.
“Get out, i don’t wanna fight. And stop it with the baguettes again.” You curtly replied, not giving a single flying damn about logical reasoning for the time being.
“Baby, don’t be like this.” Charles pleaded.
“Charles, please. You act like you’re still getting to know me. Get out so i can get ready. Us talking means us fighting right now.” You stormed off the bed, “I’m up now, you can fuck off for a few minutes.”
The sentence ended with you disappearing into the adjoined bathroom, aggressively locking it behind you, leaving Charles to roll his eyes all alone by the bed while you repeatedly splashed cold water on your face. Yeah, Charles might be right, but it was too early for you to comprehend it all the same.
All the final preparations for the flight home were done in utter and tense silence, from getting dressed to organizing the carry ons and how you were gonna fit everything into them, dividing all the remaining possessions you had between your backpack and Charles. The communication in that concern was done through death glares and tossing things at each other from across the room.
“On a tout. Allons y.” We have everything. Let’s go. Charles said half an hour later, signaling you should get going now.
Coffee then flashed in your mind, the thought of going without it being torture. You can still make one in your travel mug before leaving, you figured so you left Charles tapping his foot on the floor by the door and disappeared back into the suite to get your caffeine dosage ready. Only then, you realized you had no idea where your travel mug was and you had no recollection of putting it away. Charles must’ve done that.
You sighed in frustration and called his name. Seconds later, he was by your side.
“My travel cup…” you mumbled, your voice still hoarse.
Smiling slightly, Charles stopped your search through the hotel cupboards, “Viens.” Follow me. He grabbed your hand and dragged you back to the entrance where the table by the door had your cup, your phone and your headphones.
“I made you your coffee, ‘cause i knew you were gonna be in a bad mood.”
With a snap of a finger, you started feeling guilty about how rude to him you were being when he was being this thoughtful. After all, he was just making sure you wouldn’t miss the only flight home available.
“C’mon.” He handed you your things and took care of the backpacks and suitcases himself before he opened the door and gestured for you to walk out in front of him.
You gulped as you took in his soft expression, the smile on his face being your enemy for once because it made you feel astronomically bad.
“Merci.” You murmured, cheeks heating up as you walked past him, giving the quickest and shiest of kisses on the cheek, making him grin and shake his head.
On the plane later, when he pulled your legs onto his lap, his thumb caressing your ankle as he assured you that you can go back to sleep, you slipped out the apology you felt like you owed him.
“I’m sorry…about earlier.” You said, looking down at your lap.
“T’inquiète pas.” Don’t worry. Charles reassured with a loving smile that slowly evolved into a chuckle, “I know you by now, i don’t take your morning insults seriously anymore. Ma princesse déteste les matins, je l’ai compris. T’en fais pas.” My princess hates mornings, i got it. Don’t worry. He said as a joke, one that was true to both your knowledges. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you blushed further.
“Je t’aime.” I love you. You mumbled to him in reassurance and reaffirmation before you gave him a brief kiss on the lips.
“I know, don’t worry. I love you too.” He pulled you to him, his arms around you as he hugged you back to sleep.
✰★✰
A heart attack and you’ll be the death of me:
Charles was so sure he had it covered.
As he tiptoed around the room in the faint dawn light, he was so sure he could go about his morning without disturbing you.
He woke up early as usual, at 5:30 sharp.
Strike one was his alarm waking you up, what earned him a quick death glare from you while you were mostly asleep, just peaking out from under the covers to give him that murderous morning look of yours while he fumbled around to get to his phone and silence it.
He smiled at you then; more like grimaced actually, then he slid out of bed and went straight into the bathroom, where he took a quick cold shower because “he’s a psychopath like that” as you described him. He just found it energizing on mornings where he had no motivation but a ton of things and trainings to accomplish throughout the day.
Dripping in water, he patted back into the room barefoot with a towel wrapped around his waist, whistling a tune stuck in his head, then stopping himself from doing that once his eyes met the sight of your sleeping figure, only for the messy symphony to resume mindlessly in a minute.
Part of your bedroom floor was hardwood while the remaining parts were porcelain, incredibly shiny porcelain that was a true hazard when wet, or when the person walking on it had bare feet and was leaving a trail of water behind him, but Charles never learned that. Charles himself was in fact the hazard at that point.
He continued the trajectory towards the wardrobe and drawers that had his clothes, in other words, the slippery part of the room, barefoot and leaving a trail of water to mark his trajectory, and the minute his foot met the shiny flooring, he was struggling to steady himself. In his own vocabulary, he had no grip. Softs in the pouring rain type of catastrophe.
Strike two was him using the duvet covering you for leverage.
His foot inevitably slipped and glided along the shiny flooring and down went Charles, grabbing onto the duvet covering you as if it was a solid that would sustain his weight while he collapsed, yanking it off the bed as he did.
He landed on the floor with a thud and widened eyes and the sheets fell on top of him.
Sleep wasn’t your main concern then, not when you bolted awake to find your boyfriend, in all his might, on the floor whining in pain.
Your heart skipped a beat as worry took over you, effectively waking you up within seconds.
“Fuck, are you okay? What happened?” You jumped up to him, crouching down by his side, your hand grabbing his as you attempted to help him up. Instead, he was dragging you down with him until he utilized his own strength to help you lift him off the floor. You tried hard no ignore the way he was still fumbling to keep himself covered as you helped him up, you tried really hard because if you didn’t you’d end up laughing and feeling bad later.
“Are you okay?” You asked worriedly as you sat him on the bed, visually inspecting his body for any bruises or injuries while your heart beat out of control.
“I’m okay.” He answered, rubbing over his back and wincing then adjusting his towel as if he just realized that he severely lacked of clothing.
“You’re sure?” You asked again and he nodded.
“How many times have a told you not to walk barefoot over here after showers, Charles?! You fucking scared me, you idiot.” The anger set in as the worry faded.
Time and time again, he almost slipped because of this, only this time he made actual contact with the floor instead of grabbing onto a dresser or something nearby. Time and time again, you’ve told him to watch out but here he was, frolicking around the bedroom with this wet feet with no cares in the world, not even for his safety.
“Okay, maman.” He got up and kissed you with a bit of an eye-roll, “You go back to sleep and i’ll get going in a bit.” He grinned.
“I will go back to sleep. Are you sure you’re okay, though?”
Smiling at the care peaking through your anger, he reassured you again.
“I’m sure, don’t worry.”
You took a once-over at him, scanning every part of him to make sure all was actually well, your breathing just starting to go back to normal as you did so, but worry still riddling your thoughts.
It wasn’t easy to wake up to the person you love collapsed on the floor. He scared you – for him- beyond words.
“Baby, i’m okay. I swear.” He chuckled and pulled you for a quick hug, interrupting your examination.
“Okay…” you yawned and made you way back to the bed, “If you feel anything wrong during the day, tell me so I can go with you to the doctor.” You mumbled to him just as you pulled the duvet back onto the bed, covering yourself up completely with it.
“I don’t think I will need that, but okay, mon coeur..”
You hummed back at him and he went back to getting dressed, wearing socks – Ferrari socks, and slippers this time.
His usual gym attire is what he went with, pulling on some shorts and a Puma shirt and trainers. He grabbed everything he needed out of the room so he wouldn’t have to disturb you again – phone, headphones, car keys, gym bag… - and he headed out into the kitchen to prepare himself a quick breakfast.
Charles stood in front of the fully stocked fridge, his hand on his waist as he scanned his options, a slight pain in his lower back distracting him.
The scene of the fall started playing in his mind and he couldn’t help laughing as he imagined how he must’ve looked like, loosing control over his steps and tumbling down the way he did.
Shaking his head with a smile on his face, he grabbed eggs out of the fridge, olive oil from the counter, salt and pepper from the drawer and a pan from the lower cabinet before he started the stove to make himself some scrambled eggs.
He couldn’t recall the first time he made eggs alone. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure where he learned how to make them since he had no recollection of anyone giving him a rundown on how it’s done, so how did he know how to scramble eggs?
What if he didn’t know and he just never messed up badly enough before? That is what he convinced himself of.
He never thought of the amount of oil he should use while making this. He never noticed how much time he let the oil heat up, nor how much it took for the eggs to cook. He never measured how much salt and pepper he seasoned them with.
Charles frowned as he watched the oil pour into the pan. How did that come naturally to him? Why did it come naturally if he was never taught how to do this?
The fall must’ve had some effect on him, he thought. There was no other explanation for these thoughts in his opinion.
With a quick shake of his head to come back to reality, he pushed those thoughts aside and figured he’d better focus on the task on hand.
He followed the stream of oil pouring out of the bottle in his hand and looked down to find the pan half full of oil.
Now, he wasn’t precise about the amount but he know for sure that this was way too much.
“Merde.” Shit. He sighed, his hands already working the stopper off the bottle of oil so he can pour the excess back in. He wasn’t thinking of the fact that this was probably gonna end up in a slippery mess. It did.
The stopper slipped out if his grip and flew across the kitchen. Half the unwanted oil ended up on the counter, dripping down onto the cabinets and onto the floor as he stood and watched, dumbfounded and annoyed.
“Tu me blague ou quoi?” Are you kidding me? He groaned in frustration, stomping over to the table in the corner to grab tissues to attempt cleaning this mess.
Charles distributed paper towels over the oil and left them to soak up the liquid while he went back to preparing breakfast, figuring he’ll just clean afterwards when he washes whatever dishes he ends up using. They’re not gonna run away, now are they?
He clicked the stove to life and watched the blue flames hide beneath the seriously well oiled pan.
Soon enough, the oil was making sizzling sounds and he started contemplating whether he should add the eggs now, not understanding why this felt so complicated today. Nonetheless, he grabbed the eggs and starting shifting his attention between them and the bubbling oil.
He scratched his head in contemplation as his eyes remained fixed on the stove, his arm supporting his slouching posture against the counter right by him, right where his mess resided. It seemed like he was waiting for some cue to tell him when he should do what, and so he went back to contemplating if he even knew how to do this.
It seemed like he took to much time to consider this and before he knew it, right before his widening, panicking eyes, a catastrophe ensued.
He didn’t know what to do and for a second all the years of reaction time training were all down the drain.
Charles stood still with wide frightened eyes that served as an artist’s palette on which the blue-green and the alarming orange started mixing. Alarms bells were ringing in his mind but he still stood motionless.
Charles watched as a huge flame erupted from the oil in the pan, casting a vibrant orange glow all over the kitchen, its warmth so close to his face making him quickly step back. He was repeatedly cursing under his breath as he tried figuring out what he was supposed to do. Every curse word in every language he knew took a turn and got used again and again and again until he started fumbling around the kitchen for a solution, just hoping and praying he wasn’t gonna burn the apartment down on a lovely Tuesday morning.
Luckily, Charles was just far enough to be unharmed but as the fire erupted, crackles escaped it and landed all over the kitchen, marking random objects with its signature.
In his panicked state, Charles didn’t have any recollection of oil-soaked paper towels that would be a huge fire hazard, especially when an open flame was raging mere inches away from them. He was too busy trying to get to the small emergency fire extinguisher he knew he had somewhere in the kitchen.
His hand was still trailing along the counter as he searched with fear through the lower cabinets and drawers for the red bottle. He kept searching as the fire spread on and as the tissues started burning as well and before he knew it, his hand on the edge of the countertop was feeling exceptionally warm.
He looked up quickly, but he wasn’t quick enough. The flames were spreading all over the marbly surface, dangerous close to him, right by his arms.
Quickly, he pulled back his hand but it was a second too late. He had burnt his hand and forearm and without him knowing it, a scream of pain left him mouth.
In the bedroom, you were still soundly asleep, not aware of the catastrophe your boyfriend was causing just in the room near where you were, unaware that he was at risk and that the whole apartment was at risk.
Under a thick layer of blankets, you were asleep like a baby, until you heard an alarmed scream and the clatter of metal, but the sound that made your heart drop wasn’t that. It was the distinct sound of a fire, a crackling that was faint but alarming enough that it was all you heard as you stumbled out of bed and out of the room, tripping over your feet, the few seconds it would take you to reach the origin of the sounds feeling like a damn eternity.
“Charles!” You called, a smell of smoke meeting your nose just as your eyes caught glimpse of how golden the light in the kitchen was, an orange light of a fire.
Your eyes widened and you mindlessly ran up to the door, slightly scared of what you might see once the space was in your line of sight.
You were just hoping and praying Charles was okay. Everything else could be managed.
“Charles”, you called for him again before you took a deep breath and ran into the kitchen. It felt like you blood was draining when you eyes caught sight of your boyfriend hunched down in front of the lower cabinets, the fire maybe a meter away from his hair as he nervously dug through the shelves, waving his left arm furiously through the air.
“Charles, what happened?” You ran up to him, pulling him farther from the flames.
His eyes, panicked as you’ve ever seen them, were still searching throughout the kitchen for a glimpse of red.
“Where’s the fire thing?” He practically shouted, asking about the extinguisher as he went on with his search.
With no further words spoken and both your hearts beating a million times per minute, you immediately went back to resolving things. Luckily, you knew the fire extinguisher was in the cabinet by the kitchen balcony door so you grabbed it and got to work, ending the fire just as the the oil-streaked cupboard door was starting to catch sparks.
Charles was panting and feeling lightheaded, the pain from the burn starting to make itself known, so as soon as he saw you had it covered, he allowed himself to fall onto the floor, dropping his back against the wall as he attempted to catch his breath.
Once you were sure the flame was put out for good, you dropped everything and allowed yourself to take a deep breath before the worry replaced the adrenaline high. You rushed to Charles’ side, hoping he hadn’t hurt himself.
He looked up at you as you crouched down in front of his, worried sick, the look in his face being one of pure fear.
“You’re okay?” You asked, exhilarated.
“I’m sorry, i’m so sorry. I don’t know how-“ he gasped for air, “-it happened.”
“Mon coeur, arrête. Show me your hand, I think you burnt it.”
Shakily, he lifted his arm into your line of sight and you had to wince at the sight.
“Oh, baby.” You started getting up, “I doesn’t look to good, Charles. I think you should get it checked out. Does it hurts?”
“Starting to…” he sounded out of breath.
“C’mon. Je t’amène à l’hôpital. You can get it treated in the ER.” I’ll take you to the hospital.
You knew he was in pain because he didn’t object like usual. He just nodded.
Fifteen minutes later, Charles was sat waiting for his turn, which they assured would be soon, and you were sat next to him, trying to distract him from whatever pain he might be feeling.
“Tu peux appeler maman? Dis lui de venir ici?” Can you call mon? Tell here to come here? He said after going silent for a few seconds, wincing as he did so.
You looked at him, wishing you could ease his pain immediately, “Oui, ne t’inquiètes pas.” Yes, don’t worry. You gave him a small smile that he tried weakly to return, “Et Andrea? Tu peux lui dire ce qui s’est passé? He’s probably waiting for me still.” And Andrea? Can you tell him what happened?
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
You got up and made the calls, struggling to find a way to tell Pascale and Andrea what happened without scaring them to death, and you managed, all while keeping an eye on your boyfriend, watching him take deep breaths. Just as you put your phone away, he got called into the ER and before he went in, he gestured for you to come along, using his good hand to do do, waiting until you joined his side and intertwined your fingers with his to follow the nurse.
Around noon, after Charles had been given painkillers and had gotten his arm and hand wrapped in gauze, you sat with him in your bedroom, the door to the kitchen closed to hide the mess neither of you wanted to acknowledge just yet.
A movie was playing on the screen of your laptop sat on top of your legs while Charles rested his head on your shoulder.
Neither of you were speaking or saying anything, the chaos from earlier being enough noise for a good while.
“Sorry I woke you up so early.” Charles whispered to you.
“Charles, shut up. Imagine me caring about sleep in this situation.” You softly kissed his forehead, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” You practically whispered, genuinely overwhelmed by the thought.
He sighed heavily and snuggled his face into your neck, “Je sais vraiment pas qu’est-ce qui s’est passé.” I really don’t know what happened.
“We all have bad days, this one was just extra bad. I’m just glad you’re safe.” You tried reassuring, moving around so you were hugging him, keeping his injured limb in mind.
Charles, feeling down and upset, stayed silent and snuggled up to you, “My superwoman…” He softly and innocently kissed your jaw, “Tu nous a sauvé, toi. Je n’avais aucune idée c’était où l’extincteur.” You saved us. I had no idea where the extinguisher was.
You smiled softly and trailed your hand through his hair, “I was so scared for you, mon coeur. You gave me a heart attack today- twice.” You chuckled, threading your fingers gently through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead and giving him a small kiss there, “You’ll most definitely be the death of me, Leclerc.”
Charles giggled just a bit before mumbling a small “Désolé” sorry against your skin and falling into comfortable silence.
“Two weeks without racing though…” You thought out loud a minute later and felt him let out a whine of annoyance against your neck, the sound slowly turning into the softest of laughs ever, his chest shaking against yours.
Obviously, this situation wasn’t pleasant and this morning would for sure be a bad memory, but he was okay and that was all you could ask for after such a scare.
a/n: manifesting and praying that last situation never happens to him
#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc oneshots#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 oneshots#f1 x you#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#f1 one shot#f1 imagine
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us / OP81
Summary: Oscar x childhood friend!female!Australian!reader - 'She fell first, he fell harder' trope. You had a crush on Oscar for years but you never thought you and him would actually happen. Fluffy thing I'm banging out for his birthday.
Warnings: censored cussing
Requested?: No.
Author's Note: It's raining right now, so that kind of inspired this.
"Ugh!" you suddenly groan when you feel a raindrop on your arm. "You've got to be kidding me! I thought it wasn't supposed to rain for another two hours!"
"It's raining?" Oscar asks, looking up at the grey sky. "F*ck, you're right."
"Yeah! I hate the United Kingdom!"
He snorts. "I can't say I disagree."
"Weather sucks. Can't even go for a nice walk with my friend without it starting to rain halfway through it!"
"Want to turn around, then? Head back to my flat?"
You groan and nod. "Sure." The two of you begin walking, retracing your steps.
You're just celebrating his birthday late with him, spending some time, and plan to give him a little gift later.
"Getting chilly?" Oscar asks as you walk, amused. "And you were so sure earlier, before we left. 'Oscar, it's fine!'" he begins imitating you, "'The rain won't begin for another two hours! I'll be fine in just this!' You're going to freeze."
You sigh. Yes, it's true. You were stuck on wearing the orange papaya crop top you just bought for this date afternoon walk with Oscar. He kept asking you why you were so stuck on it, but of course you couldn't answer. Because then you'd be admitting to his handsome face that you like him, and that you want to impress him.
He's not very impressed right now with your foolish decision to not bring a jacket, and makes this clear as he mutters, "You're so weird."
You frown. Well, that's the opposite of your goal. You want Oscar to like you, not think you're weird.
But when he catches your eye, there's a teasing look to it. "But I don't mind you being weird. Just becomes a little annoying when I have to give up my jacket in order to keep you warm."
You stare at him as he grins, slipping off his black windbreaker/rain resistant jacket and lays it over your shoulders. He's wearing a long sleeve shirt under it, but still, you feel bad.
And you're definitely not cold anymore, as you're heating up with embarrassment by the sweet gesture from him. You slip your arms into the jacket, which is big on you, and smells like whatever cologne or laundry detergent or whatever he uses.
You look up at him, catching him staring at you, with a little smile on his lips.
He looks away.
"Wha-?" you demand.
"Nothing. It's just kind of big on you."
"Right."
Well, now it's awkward.
Oscar seems to make a point of always walking on the side of the street on the sidewalks. You're not sure if it's because it's specifically you, or if he would do that with anyone, but either way, you like it.
As you walk, the air seems to get more chilled, and the rain picks up. Suddenly, there's thunder in the distance, and you flinch.
Oscar looks to you. "Don't worry. That thunder is far off. We'll be home in no time."
You frown, not convinced. "Oscar, I don't know..." You tighten the hood of his jacket around your face.
"Hey," he says suddenly, meeting your eyes. Locking your eyes with his. "Don't worry."
"It's so rainy, Oscar... I'm raining so hard now..." you wipe a raindrop from your forehead.
Oscar seems to pick up your discomfort at the rain and fear of a potential lightning storm. He suddenly grabs your wrist (which gives you a bit of a rush) and pulls you up some stairs, so that you're standing under the overhanging roof of some closed business.
"Let's just wait it out here, then," he says simply, still not letting go of your wrist.
In fact, his hand just slips down a bit, so he's holding yours.
You stare at the ground. At your hands.
And you can't help but feel butterflies.
"Hey, uhm, Oscar?" you ask.
"Yeah?" he asks back.
But you don't know what to say, so you stay quiet, watching the rain with him.
"You're feeling okay?" he asks after a while.
You look up at him. Because of his jacket around you, you're mostly dry. His shirt is wet and hanging from him, and his wet hair is stuck to his forehead.
You reach up, and without thinking, ruffle his wet hair a bit.
He just laughs, saying, "What you doing?"
You shrug, smiling at him.
And then more silence. Other than the rain beating on every surface around you, there's not noise. Other than the two of you, standing here, alone but together, there is no one else around.
Suddenly Oscar says, "I've been thinking about something."
"What's that?"
"You."
You look up, just in time for Oscar to gently put his hand on your waist.
You blush bright red.
"You like me, don't you?" Oscar asks softly, searching your eyes for something.
"Y- Yeah..." you mutter, looking away from his eyes.
He smiles. "You're so shy. Look at me."
You force yourself to look back at him.
"How long?" Oscar asks. "How long have you liked me?"
You clear your throat. "Quite a while now. Like, years."
"Years?"
"Yeah... Like, since we were eighteen, maybe."
"Oh, wow..." he nods. Thinks for a few seconds. "I've been thinking about you and me lately. Like, you know. Us."
You blush at just that word.
Us.
It's something you want, and you have wanted for a while.
Suddenly he begins to whisper. "I've liked you for not as long... recently, I've just kind of realized, but I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I just... I love your hair, and your eyes... You're so pretty, and caring... I love your teasing and your sweet personality... You feel so perfect. Like, where would I be without you. You're just, like, the missing piece to my puzzle. It's like... like, all the sudden, I just kind of realized... it just kind of clicked..."
"What did?" you breathe.
He stares at you intently, not letting your gaze escape, even if it wanted to.
"The fact that I know that I love you."
Your mouth drops.
Your head swarms.
What? How?
You have always said you liked Oscar. You said you had a crush on him, and you'd love to date him. You'd say he's cute, and you get along with him. But never had you thought you needed him, or in someway, he was your second half. You never really thought you were actually meant for each other. Never had you though you would be someone else without him. Never had you...
Never had you even considered those words.
I love you.
He loves me, and he knows it.
Without a shadow of a doubt.
He smiles a little, his cheeks finally reddening a bit. "I guess I just figured, you know, today was the day to tell you. Celebrating my birthday and all, with you... Sorry it's raining, though. It would've have been nicer news if it were sunny, and I wasn't soaking wet, looking like a pathetic wet wild animal," he jokes.
You laugh out loud, still a bit nervous, but say, "I'd still like you, even if you always looked like a pathetic wet wild animal."
He grins a little, nodding. "I mean, you know. Maybe it would be a little bit more impactful on a lovely sunny day in Melbourne or somethin', sitting with you on a park bench, overlooking-"
You giggle. "Are you fantasizing?"
He blushes. "So what if I am?"
You grin. "Well, next time we're in Melbourne... you better bring me to the park and make that come true. Buy me some ice cream. Then we can go for a real walk, without having to go home halfway through because of a rain storm."
"And without having to stop because it gets too rainy, just for me to confess my love for you," he adds, still grinning back, but his eyes softening at the same time.
I grin and mutter, "I never imagined you to be the type to fall hopelessly in love."
"I'm not," he laughs, "but maybe you're just the type to do that to me."
"Well, maybe rainy London isn't so bad."
He chuckles. "Yeah. Maybe not."
Later, after you've made it back to Oscar's flat, you're sitting on his couch, waiting for him to finish changing into dry clothes and getting some snacks. He comes back in sweatpants and a hoodie, and sits down next to you, turning on some cricket on the television. He hands you the plate of snacks, and you both start munching as you watch the television, sitting a healthy-friend-distance away from each other.
But Oscar realizes this and says, "Come on, now. You can sit closer than that." He tucks his arm around your back, gently pulling you into him. You head naturally falls to leaning against his shoulder.
You smile and shut your eyes a bit, content. "This feels right," you tell him softly.
"Yeah," he breathes, "I agree. It does, doesn't it?"
"Oh!" you suddenly say. "I still haven't given you your birthday present yet, Oscar."
"Oh yeah..." he smiles, watching you.
You reach in the pocket of your jeans, pulling out a little box. You watch him nervously as he opens it and pulls out the bracelet. You say quickly as he studies it, "I know you're not really one to wear jewelry a lot like some of the other drivers on the paddock... But I thought maybe, just, like, a bracelet... to remind you of me... because... you know... I like, miss you when you're gone and stuff... I know it's dumb, but..."
"It's not dumb," he says immediately. It's a little leather woven bracelet, with your name on it, written in morse code.
He grins and slips it onto his wrist, pulling it tight. "This is so sweet. And thoughtful. I'll wear it every race weekend. All the time."
You giggle, leaning even more into him. "I like that. You're so sweet."
Suddenly, he gently takes your chin in his hand, staring deeply into your eyes. "Maybe we'll have to get you one, too, though, so we match."
"Yeah, with your name on it in morse code."
"Exactly... And, hey..." he strokes your cheek with his thumb. "Can I ask you something?"
You nod slowly, completely taken by the romantic look in his soft, brown eyes. "Of course."
"Mind if I kiss you?"
Your face flushes bright red, but you shake your head. "I don't mind at all."
"Good," he says, and leans in. And his lips meet yours.
#sports-on-sundays#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagines#f1 one shot#formula 1#formula one#formula1#f1 x reader#f1 fan fiction#f1 2023#f1 2024#f1 blurb#f1 drivers#f1 fandom#f1 fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 fluff#f1blr#f1 grid x reader#f1 imagine#f1 scenario#f1 x you#f1 blurbs#f1 one shots#f1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 imagine#f1 oneshots
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Seeking His Attention | Lando Norris
Pairing: Lando Norris x Female Reader
Word Count: 1.9K
Warnings: None
A/N: This was written quite a while back on Wattpad so I thought of posting it on here. Due to it being written ages ago, there will be no sequel unfortunately. However, there’s more one shots to follow. Hope you guys enjoy .xoxo
When the doorbell rang, I assumed it would be no one else but the girls. I opened the door and was greeted by just who I thought it would be, "Hey girls" I smiled. "Hi (Y/N/N)" they greeted back as they gave me a hug. Lando stood behind them with a smile on his face. "They won't be staying the night" he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. Ciska rolled her eyes whilst Flo made her way into the house.
"Why not ?" I asked as I raised a brow. "They have some thing at school tomorrow morning" he said. "Ohh okay then that's fine" I gave him a small smile. "Yeah I guess I'll see you later then, have fun" he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. He was all dressed to go out and he didn't even mention a word about where his going...wow some best friend he is. "Thanks. You too" I waved him off as I went inside and shut the door behind me. Ciska and Flo stared at me as my back was against the door. "Tomorrow's Saturday" I said confused.
"That it is" Flo said. "Do you'll really have to go to school tomorrow morning ?" I asked in confusion. "Nope" Ciska answered. "Then what was his deal ?" I asked as I raised my hands. "You'll find out later tonight" Flo said as Ciska laughed. "Oh god well I hope you'll are right" I said as I shook my head and started walking to my room.
They trailed behind me which my bestie was quick to stand up and greet them since she was familiar with them. We decided to play a few board games such as Ludo and Monopoly which I won or dominated by the way. Oldies are goldies.
After playing a few games we decided on watching a movie, it was hard for all four of us to come to a decision but finally we decided to watch High School Musical for like the tenth time.
Just before the introduction I decided to scroll through my Instagram for a quick minute so that I didn't miss anything important.
Lando's Instagram story was the first to pop up on my list and I was lowkey eager to see what he was up to. He had posted a video of his friend trying to imitate him and surrounded by him were not only his guy friends but a few girl friends as well. My heart actually dropped at the thought of him being romantically involved with one of them and me not knowing all this time, especially thinking that I had a chance for the past 2 years.
Directly after he had reposted another girls Instagram story, it was her attempt of Carlos and Lando's 'beat drop challenge' which just made me cringe since the song didn't even get to the beat, and instead her and the friend in the video were just trying to look pretty...pathetic.
Me being curious, I decided to do some snooping through this girls account. I've noticed both Oliver and Lando follow her. Lovely. She appears to be a model, even better. Looking at a few of her posts I see that Lando already liked a few of them. One post she's seen to be naked and has a 'wet' look as if she just came out of the shower, mans had the audacity to comment a bathtub emoji on her post. Smh.
"(Y/N/N) the movie is about to start" Flo said as she nudged me. "Are y'all seeing this shit ?" I said as I continued to scroll through her posts. "Who's that ?" Ciska asked as she looked over my shoulder. "Oh I don't know, maybe your future sister-in-law" I said sarcastically. Both of them stifling a laugh, even my best friend. "Oh my god no" Ciska said. "She's pretty though" my best friend piped. "Not what I need to hear right now, thanks" I faked a smile.
"This chick didn't even do the challenge correctly and your brother gives her some fame on his story plus making her feel important by commenting, and liking her photos" I scoffed. "Awww is (Y/N) feeling jealous ?" (Y/F/N) teased. "Oh my god no" I faked a laugh. "We know you well enough by now to know when you're lying" Flo smiled. "I ain't jealous guys. If he likes this chick then I'm happy for him" I faked a smile. "Okay, whatever you say (Y/N/N)" Ciska said with a playful smile.
I looked between the 3 of them then locked my phone to place it to the side so they could continue playing the movie. As much as I tried to forget about Lando, the thought of him and that girl hanging out tonight kept crossing my mind. Ughhh.
It was getting late, almost midnight and no sign of Lando or even Oliver that they're going to pick up the girls. After the movie was over we decided to make some pancakes since we didn't know what else to eat at this hour. I decided to make the batter and the girls were going to toast them so it would be faster.
Half way through making the batter I get a phone call and it's from none other than Lando. "Oh would you look at that" I said as I glanced at my phone screen. "Oooooh" the girls cooed. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at them. "Could one of you answer instead because I'm busy" I said. Flo answered the call with a grin, "Hellooo" she said.
She then looked at me, "She's busy at the moment" she smiled. He's asking about me I assume. "You wanna talk to her ?" she asked playfully. Oh gosh. "Okay hold on" she smiled as she then handed the phone to me. "He wants to talk to you" she whispered. I stiffened as I stopped whisking and took the phone from her hand.
The 3 of them watching intently. "Hello ?" I answered. "Hey, you busy ?" He asked. "Well I was in the middle of making pancakes but you clearly have something important to say" I said sarcastically which made the girls laugh. "Uhm yeah, I know it's late but I'm on my way to pick up the girls. I'm just leaving from here so I'll be there in a few" he said. "Are you sure it's safe ? They can stay over, I don't mind" I suggested. "Nope it's fine. Give me 10 minutes" he said. "Drive safely please, speeding your way here is not worth it" I said. "I will. See you in a bit" he said lastly. "Okay byeee" I said before ending the call.
"Y'all sound like a couple already" Ciska said. "You guys need to stop" I said as I couldn't help but crack a smile and finished off making the batter. It luckily didn't take us that long after to toast the pancakes and cover them with Nutella, and some fruit as well. As we were eating we heard the rev of his car outside. "Looks like he's here" I said blandly. "That's our call" Flo said as she and Ciska got up. They both hugged me and (Y/F/N) before waving us off. "Thank you for an amazing time" Flo smiled. "Anytime" I smiled back. "Why don't you come out ?" Ciska suggested playfully. "Nah I'm fine here thanks" I giggled, I know what they're up to. "Byeee !" They yelled on their way out.
Lando's P.O.V
I was a bit upset to only see the girls come out and no sign of (Y/N). "Where's (Y/N) ?" I asked as I rolled the window down. "Inside" Ciska said. "Is she not coming out ?" I questioned. "She's upset with you so she rather stay inside" Flo said. "What did I do ?" I asked shocked. "Why did you have to post that girl on your story because now she thinks you're not interested in her you fool" Ciska shook her head as she got inside the car. "You've got to be joking" I said stunned. "You should've seen her face, poor thing thought that friend of yours is our future sister-in-law" Flo said as she pouted. "Oh my god. Shit" I said as I held my head in my hands.
"So much for trying to make things work with her this weekend" Ciska said as she rolled her eyes. "Hooter and she'll come outside" Flo suggested. I did as she told me but doing it once didn't help so I hooted 2 more times. A hot and angry looking (Y/N) stepped outside, storming towards my car as she leaned against the door. "Have you lost it ? It's past 12am and you're hooting for the whole damn neighbourhood to hear you" she said. "It's an excuse to get you to come outside" I smiled. "I'm here now, what could be so important this time ?" She asked. "Uhm...do you maybe want to go out tomorrow, like an all day date" I said.
"I would love to but I'm sure you already have someone who can replace me like that girl on your story" she faked a smile and turned around to walk back into the house. "Go after her !" the girls yelled. I jumped out of the car and caught up with her just before she can go inside by grabbing a hold of her hand. "I know what you're thinking and it's nothing like that I swear. It has and always will be you. I really like you okay ? I have for a very long time, I just couldn't find the urge to tell you since I was worried you didn't feel the same" I said as I rubbed soothing circles on her hands.
"Hard to believe that when you comment and like all that girls posts, plus you just got back from a night out with not only your guy friends but girl friends as well and you didn't tell me" she said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you my girlfriend that I need to tell you everything I do and everywhere I go ?" I asked to piss her off. "You know what just go away" she said as she walked away. I wrapped my arms around her as I held her from behind. "I know you feel the same since you're clearly jealous, you don't have to say it, I just like messing with you. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 11am, don't leave me hanging" I said before kissing her cheek and running off to the car. I noticed the smile on her face when I got into the car. I hooted and winked at her one last time before driving off.
#f1 oneshots#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris oneshot#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagines#ricciardoaf oneshots
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PUT ME THROUGH IT
song : suki waterhouse - put me through it
summary : part 2 of good looking.
pairing : daniel ricciardo x driver!oc
warnings : swearing, angsty, implying of cheating, mentions of motorsport accident.
a/n : english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry about any mistakes - this is based around the 2018 season / the season daniel is in renault and just left redbull.
part 1 : good looking
he thought he could move on - he thought that monza would finally leave his mind and the ex mclaren driver would no longer occupy his thoughts of when he knew her.
“dan?” a quiet female voice speaks to the male, sounding almost scared as he leaned into his couch in his drivers room, his renault helmet sat on the table and his sweaty curls stuck to his forehead - “daniel?” his name was repeated once again and he finally snapped out of his mind,
“huh? emily?” he looks over at her, her soft expression almost making him feel his heart skip a beat. “you were crying daniel sorry. i don’t like to see you like that, i know monza is hard for you,” she explains in a gentle manner, and it almost threw the australian off,
“did you hear my-“ the male cuts himself off, not wanting to talk about the voice message he just left on another woman’s phone like it was casual.
daniel felt cruel, almost disgusting that claire still clouded his thoughts, that she was the one he thought about before a race and the one he wanted to win for, not emily, who sat besides him for a year now, but he knew that she knew she was a replacement, something to help his heart heal and restore from the damage it dealt with.
“i’m sorry emily, i didn’t know you were looking for me,” he says as he looks down at his hands, glancing at the flower tattoo that was for another woman, a woman who he so dearly missed it made his chest ache.
“i’m here for only you dan.” she spoke softly, placing her hand on his knee and squeezing it reassuringly as he stays silent, the words were kind, but to daniel it only meant that she only had her eyes set on him, her heart only begging for love from him.
“thank you emily. i really appreciate it,” he mutters gently, taking ahold of her hand and for a split second imagining it’s claire’s, but he soon places a kiss upon it and presses it to his forehead as he sighs heavily, closing his eyes as he leaned his elbows on his knees.
winter break, a time an f1 driver waits for all season just to get a bit of fresh air and a day off training. but as daniel stood in front of the door, glancing at the golden metal number that it displayed ‘21’, chuckling to himself at the significance,
he wonders if she looks the same, if her voice sounds the same, if her fashion sense is any different and if she ever abandoned the roses and butterflies she adored so much back in the day.
the male wasn’t here because of an invite, but more due to begging lando for her address for nearly an hour straight, he didn’t know why he was desperate, he just wants to see her, even a small glance at her would work wonders on him. she reminded him of an easier time, of a time where they were younger, rivals on the track but lovers off track.
but he also wonders what went wrong, why did she just ghost him? leave him alone to overthink every bit of their what seemed to be perfect relationship?
a buzz from his phone in his pocket causes him to shake his head and take it out, glancing at a text with almost dread bubbling in his stomach,
emily :)
hey dan - i was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight? x
emily was the perfect woman, she was patient with him, she wasn’t angry when he felt too many emotions and she didn’t judge him. she loves him for who he is and not his achievements, but he knew she was hurting, despite all the love she threw his way he couldn’t give it back - feeling disgusting when he thought about moving on from claire,
claire norris, a woman he wanted to marry, have babies with, have a few dogs and cats with and grow old with, he just wanted her by his side, but she left him all alone. and he didn’t know why.
he knew he should blame her, say it’s her fault they are no longer together and it’s her fault he’s been heartbroken since, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
he knew the crash in monza was a serious one, landing claire in the hospital for at least two weeks and then forcing her to retire. he knew she wants to move on from the world for formula one, and he felt sick to the stomach when he finally knew he was apart of that world.
“daniel?-“ her sweet voice causes his eyes to widen and look up in shock, his deep brown orbs making contact with hers and claire almost felt her heart beat out of her chest, “what are you doing here?..” she asks as she held the door open, looking behind her to make sure her cat wouldn’t run past her legs and down the hall of the apartment floor.
daniel looks at her, and he feels a lump form in his throat and he notices her bleached blonde hair, messily tucked behind her ears, her hair was different, he notices the turtleneck, trench coat, flared jeans and heeled boosts, her fashion sense has changed, he noticed the piercings in her ears, she has changed. she was different, just like he feared.
“claire i-“ he hears his voice crack so he cuts himself off as he holds the wine bottle in his hand - “i came to visit you.” he says in almost a stern voice, causing her eyes to widen slightly, “to visit me?- daniel how did you get my address?” she speaks with raised eyebrows, the male’s shaky hands run through his hair and he sighs slightly.
“i asked lando for it. well more like begged lando for it, and i’m sorry i used your brother to get to you. but you changed your number and want nothing to do with me.” he speaks in a gentle voice, not in a harsh tone like he expected himself to, and he was happy with that.
“i’m sorry daniel i-“ the male cuts her off and shakes his head, “it’s fine. care to join me for a drink?” the male asks, raising the wine bottle and it took a few seconds of silence for the female to sigh and nod, opening the door wider and fully cancelling the plans she had in her mind.
“come in,” she says and the male nods, joining the bleached blonde female in the apartment, admiring her as she takes off her scarf and coat, “are you cold?” she asks as she turns to him, some strands of her hair falling in her face but she quickly tucked them behind her ear,
“huh?- no-“ the male sighs heavily as he finally slips off his jacket, the female smiles slightly, sensing his nerves as she walks down the hall, feeling and hearing his presence behind her.
“you don’t have to be nervous around me ricciardo,” and those words caused him to nearly drop the wine bottle in his hand, his eyes shooting in pure shock as he felt his chest ache, “daniel! jesus you’ve gotten clumsy,” she chuckles out as she catches the wine before it could hit her floor.
“you don’t have to be nervous around me ricciardo,” she teases him as she walks down the track besides him - no a mclaren driver and a redbull driver weren’t suppose to do a track walk without both of their crews but rather with each other - especially if they were rivals. but claire couldn’t help the fact she purely enjoyed daniel’s company,
“i’m not nervous around you norris,” he says as he felt his cheeks heat up, the male rolling his eyes as he spoke as the mclaren driver chuckles her hands joined together behind her back as she walked slightly ahead of him,
her mclaren cap on her head, covering her light brunette hair that was braided in a low braid, her mclaren hoodie that kept her warm from the slight cold air of the afternoon, she would always look beautiful in daniel’s eyes, and he swore to keep her close for the next season, and the season after, and then the seasons afterwards.
“i’m so sorry- i just reminded myself of something. i promise i’m not nervous,” he mutters out as they reach her kitchen, the female placing the wine bottle down on the counter and she turns to him, leaning her back against the counter and she smiles ever so gently, “you don’t have to explain yourself daniel. it’s okay,” she said reassuringly, flashing him a closed eye smile that he missed seeing so dearly.
“i’m also sorry for bothering your brother. and coming here. i know-“ the male gets cut off by claire as she passes him a wine glass, it being half full, “i’m willing to talk about it. but with a bit of alcohol in my system,” she says with a small smile and daniel nods, following her to the living room,
where the pair sits down on the couch, the female placing the bottle of wine on the coffee table and daniel looks around the room, spotting a cat tree and a fluffy black and white cat sleeping on top of it, “you got a cat - you always talked about getting one but you were worried no one would look after it while you were gone for races,” he says with a small smile, claire hums in response, “what’s the name?”
“his name is honey,” she answers his question rather quickly, “honey?” he questions with a raised eyebrow as he looks over at her, and she smiles softly as she nods, “my mum calls him the honey badger,” she says as she feels a slight blush develop in her cheeks, the female looking down at the wine in her glass - “that’s cute,” he says as he felt his heart skip a beat, a smile pulling at his lips.
claire glances over at daniel, admiring his longer curls she’s always adored, and his stubble, causing her to smile gently, “how are you daniel?” she asks softly, causing him to look over at her, the male freezing for a few seconds as their eyes make contact, “i-i’m doing fine. i’m happy,” he says, a lump forming in his throat as he realised he just lied to her, her soft smile causing shivers to run down his back, “how are you claire?”
the female smiles at him, “i’m fin-“ her words get cut off by the door bell, which causes the female sighing softly, “sorry daniel,” she mutters out as she gets up from the couch, placing her wine glass down before she walks down the hall, causing daniel to let go of a heavy breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“sorry my neighbour just popped by.” the female mentions after a few minutes of her talking at the door, the male admiring her living room as he stands up, “mhm. claire?” he asks, placing his wine glass down, “yes daniel?”
“i can’t seem to forget you. i always think of you,” he chuckles at his own words, his words causing claire’s expression to turn into a shocked one, “everyone told me-“ the female cuts herself off as she realises how stupid her excuse was,
“you have someone else now daniel. i don’t know what you want from me.” she says, in an almost bitter tone, cause deep inside she selfishly wanted him to be stuck in the past and still missing her, but she knew that wasn’t the right thing to want at all.
“i just want one more night, one last night with you besides me claire. just so i can finally fucking move on.” he mutters out, standing up and looking at her, causing her eyes to widen, “daniel that’s messed-“ she gets cut off by the male approaching her, and his arms wrapping around her, bringing her to his chest,
“daniel, i can’t do this to you. to her.” she says, pushing him away as she feels tears well up in her eyes, and her eyes glancing over at daniel didn’t help, some tears slipping down her tears, which she quickly wiped,
“don’t be angry at yourself for moving on and growing daniel. you don’t need me anymore.” she says with a small sob, her words causing his heart to skip a beat, almost break into tiny pieces, she was rejecting him? no. she was approving him moving on.
“claire i fucking need-“
“you don’t need me! you have your family! your girlfriend! so many people! you have so many people that love you daniel.” she chokes out, the female letting the tears slip down her cheeks, the female holding back a sob as she looks at him, her heart shattering at his upset expression, his teary glossy eyes and the male almost looking at her in disbelief,
“i don’t need you anymore daniel. please let me go.” she sobs out, wiping her eyes afterwards, swiftly turning her back to him, the female sobbing silently into the palms of her hands as he stands in silence, her words echoing through his mind, his stomach dipping and he felt almost ill.
“you don’t need me?…” he mutters out, a chuckle of disbelief slipping past his lips afterwards, “i thought, you love me? i thought we were…” he mutters out in disbelief as he feels a lump form in his throat,
“we were nothing daniel. just rivals on a track in some fast cars. it’s all meaningless in the end.” she speaks in a bitter tone, causing him to look at her, and his expression softens at her red eyes and nose, her glossy eyes that look at him,
“you’re suppose to look at her like that daniel, not me. you should move on ricciardo.” his surname sounds like venom from her lips, causing him to look away from her, his eyes filling with tears as he looks down at his shaky hand,
“please tell me this is some sick joke.” he mutters out, his tone filled with disbelief,
“i don’t love you daniel. i don’t need you anymore. please move on.” she lies through her teeth, her heart shattering into small pieces as tears slip down his cheeks.
the australian wasn’t a crier, he rarely cries, and claire’s heart broke at the fact she was the one that was causing tears to leave his beautiful brown orbs,
“fucking leave and don’t come to my door again ricciardo,” she says, storming off to her kitchen, where she lets tears slowly slip down her cheeks, wiping them desperately with her sweater sleeve, her heart aching as she hears the front door slam.
and the australian leaves her brighton apartment, with his heart at the door, and her words lingering in his mind.
˖⋆࿐໋₊ ☆
#daniel ricciardo#mclaren#f1#f1 mclaren#f1 oneshots#fyp#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo imagine#f1 x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x oc#daniel ricciardo oneshot#norris
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“It's been a long day, why don't we help each other out?"
I want this smut about lewis pls ♥️
The idea is; you & lewis are new parents and as he is busy in the factory, and you’re busy at home and it has been a loooooooong time since you had s*x together and gradually getting sexually frustrated 😭 one day when he gets back home and the baby is asleep so as you both telling each other how the day went he suggests taking advantage and doing it saying “It's been a long day, why don't we help each other out?"
Thank you in advance 💙
Too Long
'Hey love, time to get up.' you heard Lewis' soft voice interrupt your slumber while his long fingers rubbed the length of your bare back. Turning your head to the side, you huffed out a breath and looked at the clock.
6:56am
'Do you have to leave already?' you said, a small pout on your face as you looked up at him dressed in his Mercedes gear. He had a meeting today to go over some new improvements for the start of the season and you were scheduled to stay home with your newborn, Samuel. You and Lewis had decided to have a baby together, and Samuel was now about 4 months old. Parenthood was definitely not easy, but it was the best experience of a lifetime. The only downside to it was that between Lewis being so busy and you being so occupied with a newborn, sex was rarely a topic of conversation recently. You have both been so exhausted that you hadn't had sex with each other since Samuel's birth.
'Yeah, I have to be there for 7:30. I changed Sammy already and fed him for you. He's sitting in his moving chair. He's run over my toes about 5 times, so beware.' he chuckled, kissing your lips.
'He likes a challenge. Just like his daddy.' you giggled, nipping at his bottom lip and watching an internal battle happen in his mind. He couldn't afford to miss this meeting but god did he want to touch you again. Touch you, caress your body, and kiss every stretch mark and freckle that he could find.
'You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now.' he grunted, running his hand underneath the covers and feeling the curve of your hip.
'Then do it. You have time.' you bit your lip, feeling goosebumps rise against your body at his feather light touch.
'No I don't. Baby, I have to go.' he sighed, watching as you sat up on the bed with the covers pooling around your hips.
'Go to your meeting then. I'll be here when you get back.' you said, smiling at him as you kissed his lips.
'I'm sorry love. I really want to, I'm just strapped for time.'
'Lewis, it's okay, I promise. I understand.' you said, kissing him once more before getting dressed and following him out into the living room to see Sammy.
'Good morning my handsome.' you cooed at him, watching his small hands grab at you from his chair.
'I will see you guys in a couple hours. I should be home by the time you put him down for his nap after lunch.'
'Okay. Love you honey.'
'I love you too.'
_______
For once, Lewis' meeting didn't go past the deadline and he was on his way home when he said he would be. You had just put Sammy down for a nap and shut his door when you heard the front door open and close. Turning the corner and seeing your husband standing at the door, you put your finger to your lips to signal him to be quiet and he nodded. You jogged up to him and threw your arms around his neck to hug him, his soft lips against the skin of your neck.
'How was it?' you whispered, going to kiss his lips.
'It sucked.' he said shortly.
'Oh? Why's that?' you asked, making him some coffee in the kitchen. He always loved having a warm cup of coffee when he got home from a long and tough day of meetings.
'We made improvements, but we're still missing something. Something with the engine and we can't figure it out. It's exhausting to pitch ideas to the team only to have them shoot them down.' he sighed, rubbing his hands on his face as he leaned on the counter next to you.
'I'm sorry baby. Have you talked to Toto about it? Maybe see if you can bounce some ideas off of him instead?' you asked softly.
'No, I haven't tried that. I should do that.' he said, watching your nimble fingers grip his coffee cup as you handed it to him.
'Thank you, my love.' he said, his accent making your knees slightly weak.
'Have I ever told you how much I love your accent?' you giggled, kissing his lips before he took a sip of his coffee.
'Mm... A few times. In fact, I specifically remember that you once told me you love it when I dirty talk in your ear as I'm fucking you.' he said, his eyes getting even darker than normal when he saw your jaw drop at his boldness. Normally he wasn't that forward.
'I do miss that.' you sighed, watching his eyes scrape up and down your body before he nodded his head at you.
'How was your day?'
'It was alright. Sammy has been a little fussy today, so it took me forever to get him down for a nap. And then when I was making lunch, I went to grab a plate out of the cabinet and dropped it on the counter. It shattered in my hand and I cut my thumb pretty bad.'
'You're why we can't have nice things.' he chuckled, taking another sip of his coffee and throwing you a flirty look.
'Oh and you thought it ended there? No no, it gets better. As soon as I gave Sammy the first bite of his food, he dirtied his diaper and as I'm changing him, he shits all over me and the wall. So I had to clean myself and the wall before I could finish changing him. So in total, I've shattered glass and been yelled at and shit on today. Literally.'
'But you're still a good mom.' he said, reassuring you when he felt a twinge of your insecurity come out. You smiled at your feet before looking bashfully up at him.
'You think so?'
'I know so baby. You are a fabulous mother. And an even better wife.' he groaned, setting you on the counter in front of him and standing in between your legs. His lips went to your neck and you slowly felt his tongue works its way into the mix. Rolling your head to the side, you whimpered when he took the skin at the base of your neck between his teeth.
'Mm... I miss that noise.' he chuckled, snaking his hands down to the small of your back. 'It's been a long day, why don't we help each other out?' he lilted just above a whisper. That sounded like music to your ears.
'I'm not going to say no.' you giggled when he scooped you off of the counter and carried you to the bedroom. He softly shut the bedroom door behind him with his foot and carefully laid you on the mattress, his eyes going to how your hair splayed along the white sheets.
'You are so fucking stunning.' he said in awe, shaking his head lightly as he looked down at you.
'You're not too bad yourself there, king.' you said lowly, your voice sending a shiver down his spine. Theses past 4 months, he felt like he's hardly had time to spend just alone with you. And now that he had that time, he was effected by things now that wouldn't have effected him as much before.
'You think so?' he nodded lightly, leaning back over you.
'Yeah.'
'Yeah?' he chuckled, listening to you try and hold in your laughs when he nibbled lightly at the sweet spot on your neck. His hands traced under your shirt and you felt his thumbs run just below your breasts. He quickly removed your t-shirt and your yoga pants - although he was sad to see the pants go because of how good they made your ass look. With you laying naked in front of him, he had to take a moment to think of which part of you he wanted to start with. Thinking quickly, he started with your sensitive breasts. His tongue seemed to run over the smooth skin like it was candy and he groaned when he felt your nipple in his mouth for the first time in a long time. Your back arched desperately into his touch as your hand went to his hair.
Delicious sounds continued to fall from your lips as his head slowly moved down your body, taking his time to run his lips around your inner thighs and your sex. Just as he was about to kiss your clit, he stripped himself of his clothes and you saw his want for you very clearly displayed.
'I can't wait any longer. I want you so bad.' he said, moving onto the bed in a rush and pushing you further up before turning you onto your stomach. Excitement coursed through your veins as you felt his searing touch go further up your back and then tracing back down to the top of your ass. He ran himself through your folds briefly before pushing inside you and wasting no time at all. His movements were quick, yet inhumanely precise. It felt like he was rearranging your insides, but after almost 5 months of not feeling him inside you, it felt amazing.
'Fuck, I missed this pussy.' he groaned out, a twinge going straight between your legs at his filthy words. Your breasts were bouncing underneath you as you stood up on your arms, looking over your shoulder at him to see his head thrown back in a silent moan.
'Harder baby.' you whined, listening to a growl resonate from deep within him as he grabbed your hair and increased his hips effortlessly.
'Oh fuck..' you moaned out, feeling him in your stomach repeatedly. 'Just like that, ahhh!' you whined loudly.
'Mm... You like it rough, don't you? My dirty little girl.' he groaned, slapping your ass and taking a rough hold of it in his hand.
'Yes! Yes, oh god yes.' you rambled, words seeming to avoid you like the plague at the moment.
'Cum for me baby. Let me see you fall apart again.' he grunted, feeling his own release get closer and closer with each thrust he gave.
'Oh god I'm cumming!' you moaned, falling against the mattress below you as you came undone for him. After not having an orgasm for so long, this felt like you were both in heaven and hell all at once. Your body convulsed against him, small chants of his name falling from your lips as he slammed into you one last time before releasing into you with an animalistic groan.
'I love you.' he sighed against your back, kissing your spine before pulling out and falling next to you on the bed.
'I love you too.' you said, still slightly in a daze from your powerful orgasm. Your thighs were still shaking when his hand gently caressed the skin there.
'You know... We do have some more time before Sammy wakes up. We could take round 2 to the shower.'
'That's where we conceived the first one.' you chuckled as he snorted out a laugh.
'Well if we conceive number 2, then so be it. I'm sure Sammy wouldn't mind a brother or sister.'
'Then let's get busy, daddy.' you giggled and squealed as he chased you to the bathroom.
END
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4k celebration
i want to see feral lando. dom lando. choking and degrading and rough lando. maybe a bad race, maybe flirting with another driver. weeknd vibes lando. rough rough rough lando.
heat.
ln x fem!reader - 4k celebration
in which lando fucks you until the sun comes up :)
i am. feral. there are no words to describe how unhinged i am over this, this is super self indulgent and i cannot thank you enough anon hehe - lemme know what y’all think ily! <3
songs to set the mood: earned it by the weeknd, novacane by frank ocean, heaven angel by the driver era
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp with a bit of plot, choking, crying, swearing, overstimulation, neck? riding? (hehe), degradation, a slap or two, soft dom!lando, also not so soft dom!lando (he switches up a bit), just feral unhinged vibes
2k words
foreglow:
the glow of light appearing in the sky preceding sunrise
-
the sunrise casts a tangerine foreglow over your bodies, the bed, everything the light can touch.
lando’s slumped against the headboard and you’re sprawled over his lap, legs hooked over his, with his hand working between your thighs.
it’s been hours. he’s had you spread out for him, countless positions and locations utilised. you were paying for your behaviour over the race weekend, but really, it was all his fault.
he’d been too cocky, looked too good, the australian air getting to his head. you’d been glowering at him since you’d arrived in the land down under, watching in erotically charged horror as he paraded around looking, to put it simply, slutty. tight shorts, arms out, neck on display for all to see. his fucking neck. god, it looked so thick, flexing every time he turned to smirk at you. the heat rendered you delirious, and so did he.
and you couldn’t even think about that fucking daddy bracelet he’d been sporting.
you decided you needed payback, in the form of some carefully constructed, harmless flirting with everyone from the mechanics to the guys on the pit wall old enough to be your father. but lo and behold, it worked, and that’s how you found yourself in this position.
the position in question?
being fucked every which way lando deemed fit until the sun came up.
“you learnt your lesson yet, baby?” lando grunts into your ear, pinching your clit between his fingers.
your thighs are soaked, shaking uncontrollably, and your head has lulled back against his shoulder. you’re breathing heavily, your back flush against his front and he’s restless. you’ve lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve been pushed to.
“lan.” you breathe, eyes fixated on the bracelet adorning his wrist. the kitschy trinket sends liquid fire down your spine and you spasm as he continues to swirl his calloused thumb over your clit.
“that’s not an answer.” he tuts, slipping his fingers through your slit until he’s circling your weeping entrance. you’re coated with slick, some of it his from where he’d fucked you up against the wall a good few hours ago. “have you,” he kisses your shoulder, trailing his fingers that were digging into your hip up your belly. “learnt your lesson?” his teeth sink into your flesh at the same time he pinches your nipple.
you gasp out a cry of his name, slurring incomprehensibly, “yes, yes, ‘m sorry, i’m so sorry.” you sob. his chest rumbles cruelly with laughter and you’re hurtling towards another release, the overstimulation making it easy for him to get you off.
“that’s all you needed to say, honey.” lando coos condescendingly.
as if he’s rewarding you for owning up, two of his fingers sink into your entrance, sliding deep. the sound of your wetness sends your eyes rolling back as he scissors his digits in and out of you, speeding them up into a delicious grind. you’re a mess in seconds, slumped into him as close as can be. kisses over your neck soothe you and you feel the wet rush of your release approaching quicker than you can comprehend it. you gush all over his fingers, dripping down his wrist, coating that annoying fucking bracelet.
“there you go, baby. so good for me.” he whispers, slowing his thrusts. “can you turn over for me? want you to look at me.”
you pant as you wriggle around in his arms until you’re straddling his lap. you can feel yourself dripping on him, his thick length sliding between your folds. the exhaustion renders you languid, ready to let him do just about whatever he wants to you next.
lando cups your breast, stroking gently over your nipple while he runs his tongue all over his long fingers. he loves to make you watch, torturing you until you’re needy for another release.
“you think you can do a few more for me?” lando smirks, bringing the fingers that he’d just licked clean to your other breast, fiddling with your other nipple. he has you rolling your hips against him, inadvertently chasing another high already. he loves it, revels in how he can reduce you to this, so desperate that you’re grinding down on his cock, a wet mess in his lap, all for him.
“yeah, lan.” you nod profusely, your tired eyes locked with his. the early morning sun hits them enticingly, making them sparkle green in the warm light. he looks disgustingly gorgeous like this, soft and yours, resting against the headboard, curls spilling over his forehead and into his eyes. if you didn’t know that he was mulling over a million twisted ideas in his brain that involved resorting you to tears of pleasure, you’d think he looked adorable.
“good.” he grins. “not even nearly done with you.” he looks evil; your thighs clench around his hips.
without moving you off of his lap, he uses his strength to slide down the bed until he lays flat. he beckons you to crawl up his body, and you find the strength to wriggle over him, thighs resting on either side of his neck when he stops you.
“you gonna slide your pretty little cunt over my neck?” lando asks, wrapping his huge hands around your thighs. you gulp, staring down at him dumbfounded. “don’t look at me like i’m crazy, baby. you think i don’t see you staring at it with that special little look in your eyes?” he teases. “get to fucking work, i’m not gonna ask again.”
hesitantly, you lower yourself against his his skin, flaming red with embarrassment and lust. you can’t lie and pretend that you aren’t utterly enticed by this, that you aren’t leaking down your thighs at the prospect of sliding your pussy along his tanned, flexed flesh. the adventurousness of the escapade makes your legs tremble, nerves eating you alive, but it’s all worth it when you feel that first glide.
you curse out, loud and breathy, the new sensation creating lewd sounds between you. he’s obsessed, staring up at you in mischievous awe as you rock your hips backwards and forwards. you tangle one hand in his hair, tugging hard in sheer desperation, while the other hand balances you against the headboard so you don’t crush him. he guides your hips like he wants to die like this, suffocated by you and everything you have to offer him.
“oh my fucking god.” you choke out a moan, jaw hanging agape as you continue to slide against him. every time you move forwards, you feel the delectable prickle of his trimmed facial hair scratching against your inner thighs and your eyes squeeze shut each time, pure pleasure bubbling in the pit of your belly.
“you have no idea how fucking good you look.” lando rasps, digging his fingertips into the meat of your thighs. you’re so tense, teetering on the very edge. the strength he possesses, his composure while you’re sitting on his fucking neck makes you throb.
you gaze down at him, feral, and it does something to him, because he’s yanking you up onto his parted lips, burying his face as far as it will go. you yelp, collapsing into the headboard as he holds you down on his tongue, lapping up your mess.
“can taste us.” he mumbles into the flesh of your cunt, barely audible, but you hear it and it makes you shiver. you black out as your orgasm hits, your ears ringing as bliss courses through your limp body like a delicious electric shock. your nerves are shot when he rolls you onto your back.
“fucking heaven.” lando groans, crawling over you as he licks his lips.
he’s invigorated by the taste of you, how spent you are, and how it’s all his fault. you can’t string a sentence together, but you’re grabbing at his toned body like you’re begging silently for more, anything. he needs to drive into you, fill up up, make you remember that your little games will always lead back to this, the reminder that you’re his.
“you sensitive, honey?” he growls, hand sliding between your legs while his necklace rests in the valley between your breasts. you whimper at the sensation, overloaded, nodding. you both know you need more; he needs more. “tough.”
lando practically folds you in half when he fucks into you, giving you no solace in adjusting to him. he ruts into you hard, fast, unrelenting as he sinks deeper and deeper with every thrust.
“you’re gonna behave from now on. you don’t need to make me jealous for me to fuck you.” he grunts. his slaps your hip, the harsh snap leaving a sting that has you convulsing. “this is what you deserve isn’t it? whoring yourself out because you were a wet mess for me all weekend.”
you whine his name, sobs wracking your body. he feels utterly divine hammering into you like life itself depends on it. you’ve lost track of where he stops and you begin, stars behind your eyes that turn into butterflies festering in your belly. you’re so full, flushed beneath him, gushing every time he opens his dirty fucking mouth.
“crying for me, love?” he mocks, lowering himself to get even closer to you, his tongue finding your tears tracks and licking the salty residue away until you’re shuddering.
“please, lando, please, told you i’m sorry.” you plead, begging for something undisclosed, but it’s okay, because he knows exactly what to do with you.
“be fucking quiet.” lando coos once more, sickeningly unsympathetic.
but you can’t help it, whimpering out his name, begging for some form of relief, or mercy, or for him to just fuck you impossibly harder. how can you be quiet when he’s tearing you so perfectly apart?
lando doesn’t like being disobeyed, so when you continue to sob, loud and lewdly, his hand finds it’s way to the base of your throat. your jaw goes slack, wheezing at the intense rush you get when he squeezes slowly, and you can’t help but let go.
“fucking- lando!” you writhe.
“i know, baby, i know.” he shushes you, hooking your leg even higher so that he can bury himself as deep as possible.
you spasm hard, impossibly tight around him and he stutters, collapsing you both hard into the mattress. you hold him so, so tight as he cums, shooting into you. you can feel him leaking out of you already, white hot, and laying there in a heap of sweat and adoration. he breathes a laugh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“are you okay, honey?” he whispers, kissing your collarbone.
“just peachy. a bit knackered.” you giggle, tangling your fingers into his damp curls.
“so, you liked the bracelet then?” he teases, nose bumping against your cheek as he raises his wrist to your eye line.
“i think it needs a clean.” you wrinkle your nose, thinking about what the beads had been exposed to over the last few hours.
“let’s shower, hm? then we can watch the sunrise.” lando suggests, sitting you up slowly.
“you’re gonna need to carry me.” your legs are still quivering.
“anything for you.” he says, hand over his heart.
-
45 minutes later, the sun is sitting pretty, high in the sky.
7:26am, the clock reads. the melbourne skyline glimmers hot with the rise of a new day.
you’re snuggled into his side, wet hair cooling the heat of damp skin. your eyes flutter, barely fighting the urgent need to sleep.
“you have no idea how much i love you.” lando caresses your stringy locks, pushing the hair from your eyes.
your bare bodies mould together, basking in the orange of the dawn.
“love you.” you mutter, brushing your lips against his chest in an open mouthed kiss. “promise i’ll start behaving.” you snicker.
“but baby, you know i love it when you’re bad.”
“okay, i’ll remember that… daddy.” you retort, a teasing lilt to your tone.
he ignores the way his blood rushes south, too conscious of your exhausted body - and his own - to climb on top of you and fuck you until the sun sets once more.
“get some sleep.” he whispers through gritted teeth.
you sink into sleep while he watches over you. the view from the hotel room is gorgeous, breathtaking, but why would he give it even a millisecond of his attention when he has you?
-
head? empty.
-
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bear hugs — cl.16
pairing: charles leclerc x bearman!reader | ollie bearman x oldersister!reader
word count: 10k
warnings: mentions of food, specific clothing/outfits detailed but no specific body descriptions used, tooth rotting fluff, charles and reader being awkward and cheesy, lots of giggling, charles and y/n are just two shy babies who kiss softly, pretty emotional scene where y/n and ollie are the cutest siblings
taglist: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @arieslost @weekendlusting
You groaned as your peaceful sleep was disturbed, but by what exactly you weren’t sure. You rolled over, eyes slowly blinking at the way the morning light was pouring through the curtains. Oh. Your phone was ringing. You stretched out an arm to grab your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table all night. Just who was calling and waking you up? You winced as your phone screen shone far too brightly for your poor eyes. Reading the caller ID you huffed and threw your phone onto the bed next to you, before throwing an arm over your eyes to go back to sleep. Sometimes your brother could be so annoying.
Your phone stopped ringing and in the silence you felt yourself gently slipping back into sleep. Until the ringing started again, growling you felt around for your phone before answering with a short tone,
“What Ols? I was asleeeeep…” You whined,
“Turn your camera on!” Ollie practically yelled at you. You shut your eyes with a groan, doing as he asked,
“Ollie stop shouting-” “Ferrari called.” You stopped at his interruption and sat up suddenly, wide awake as you stared at your little brother,
“W-wha…?”
“I’m driving for them. This weekend. Carlos is sick and so I’m standing in for him.” Ollie stared at you, practically vibrating on the spot with how excited he was.
“What the fuck Ollie?!” You gaped at your phone, tears already welling up in your eyes, “Are you serious?” Your brother’s laugh rang through the speaker and you watched as he nodded on screen,
“Yeah I just got the call!”
“Ols this is insane…” Your voice trailed off as he beamed at you,
“I’m shaking to be honest… is that weird? I feel like that’s weird-”
“Uh you just got a call from Ferrari that you’re driving in F1 this weekend, I think it’s pretty normal all things considered.” You reasoned, he released a shaky exhale,
“You’ll come and watch from the garage with Dad right?”
“Obviously, dumbass.” He stuck his tongue out childishly as you checked the time,
“I guess we’ll be there in like an hour?” You paused for a moment,
“Hey Ollie?”
“Hmm?” You smiled at the way his excitement was so visible,
“I’m really proud of you, you know that right?”
“I love you.” Was all he said in reply,
“Love you too stinky, now go eat some breakfast! I’ll be there soon.” You clicked ‘end call’ and sat on your hotel bed in silence.
What an insane weekend. You didn’t think you could get any prouder of him after his amazing performance in F2 and gaining that all important P1 position and yet here you were about to dress in Ferrari red and watch your brother race one of the most famous F1 circuits in the world for one of the top teams.
You fell back against the pillows with a squeal, kicking your legs and giggling in excitement.
You grabbed your phone and texted your Dad,
Jumping out of bed you quickly showered before thanking whatever higher power was out there that you’d packed some cute red clothing options this time round including your vintage Ferrari jacket. You grabbed a pair of your favourite jeans and a plain white t-shirt before quickly showering and fixing your hair. After getting dressed and finishing your routine you made sure to grab your bag and you were off to the track.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀
You were used to being in the garages for the F2 races, you’d been to more than your fair share of them to support Ollie, but this was another level. The amount of people; mechanics, PR, sponsors, supporters, engineers, photographers. Your ears were already ringing and you hadn’t even heard the cars yet.
A shout of your name grabbed your attention and you turned in the garage to see your brother hurtling towards you,
“Y/N!!” You were practically winded as he hugged you tightly, “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“Hey stinky.” You wrapped your arms around him,
“Oooooo bear hug!” You joked.
Ever since you could remember it had been a running joke in your family to call every hug a bear hug, after your last name. You often joked that no one could give hugs like the Bearman family, and only you and your family members could give a certified ‘bear hug’.
“How you feeling?” Ollie stood back up straight, fixing his cap,
“Excited!”
“Good.” He nodded at your jacket,
“Bet you’re glad you brought that now!” You laughed,
“Maybe I subconsciously knew…” A cough from behind you made you spin round and you gasped as a man stood right behind you,
“May I please get past you? Thank you.” You felt him skim past your back and your knees practically melted at the slight accent and lilt in his voice, your eyes followed him as he walked to the other side of the garage to talk to some of the mechanics. Ollie gave a snort from beside you,
“Hellooooo? Earth to Y/N!” His hand waved in front of your face and you slapped it away, looking at him with wide eyes,
“Ollie. That was Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc just spoke to me.”
Charles exhaled almost nervously as he walked past you. He had no clue who you were but he wanted to find out. You’d immediately caught his eye as soon as he’d walked into the garage and now he was hooked. He turned back subtly to look at you and felt his stomach sink as he watched you laugh with Ollie. Of course a pretty girl like you would already be taken. In your Ferrari jacket his mind started racing with thoughts of how you’d look with his number on your back or on your cap. Wait what? He didn’t even know you and he was fantasising about you. Clearly you were someone important to his new junior teammate and he needed to focus on the task at hand.
“You know you’re drooling,” Your brother joked and you hissed at him, punching his shoulder, barely taking your eyes off of Charles. Ollie rolled his eyes,
“In my excitement I forgot about your little crush-,” A slap to his stomach had him doubling over and shutting up as you glared at him.
“It’s not a crush!” You defended, “I just… respect him as a driver.” He scoffed,
“Yeah right. Well when you’re done fangirling, I need your help.” You shook your head to clear your daydreams and turned to him,
“What do you need?”
Your brother beckoned you to follow him back through the garage. Weaving between people and winding your way through the halls, he opened the door of his driver’s room and sank down onto the small couch that had been placed there. You watched as for a second his excited demeanour dropped, a hint of nervousness peeking through. He fumbled with his hands, cracking and clicking his knuckles, thumb absentmindedly scratching over the back of his hand. You sat down next to him and said nothing, just let your hand fall on top of his and give a gentle squeeze,
“You’ll be fine.”
With that one sentence you simply sat in silence. Ollie’s head dropped to your shoulder and you rested your head on his, understanding he just needed you there. All day he’d acted like he wasn’t nervous. He’d remained cool as a cucumber in front of the cameras and media, he’d sat through interview after interview, he’d met far too many people to remember who they actually all were, he was doing his best to get to grips with a new car after just one practice session and he had still not shown any signs of nervousness where the public or potential F1 employers could see. But you knew. Here in this room he wasn’t Ollie Bearman, F1 rookie or Ferrari's weekend hero, he was just your little brother and you’d give him that safe space as long as he needed.
You weren’t sure how long had passed just sitting on the couch but the hubbub and buzz of noise outside seemed to have increased even though it was muffled by the thin walls of the driver’s room. Ollie had since shifted to half-lie on the couch and you could see he’d fallen asleep, dozing before he needed to get in the car and focus for qualifying. You knew it was your brother’s way of getting the track ingrained in his head, so you wouldn’t disturb him yet.
A knock pulled you from your reverie and you were quick to head to the door so they wouldn’t knock again and wake Ollie up. You opened the door a crack and poked your head out,
“Yes? Oh-” You blinked up and saw two green eyes staring back at yours,
“Hi? I thought Ollie would be in here?” You heard your brother groan on the couch behind you clearly disturbed by the talking and so you quickly exited the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind you.
“He is! He’s just taking a nap!” You explained with what you hoped was a friendly and not-too-creepy smile. Charles nodded in understanding,
“I bet it’s been a pretty intense weekend.” You gave a small laugh, nodding,
“Yeah it has been for all of us!” Charles found himself getting a little flustered at your smile. When he’d knocked the door he hadn’t expected the pretty girl he’d seen earlier to answer. It had taken him a few seconds to psych himself up to even ask you if he could pass earlier and now here he was face-to-face with you in his teammate’s room doorway. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this chance but he would not let it go to waste!
“How are you finding it so far?” His heart skipped a beat as your face lit up,
“It’s incredible! Definitely a step up from F2.” Ah so you’d been supporting Ollie for a long time. A best friend? Maybe a girlfriend? High school sweethearts?
“So not your first time at a race then?” Charles asked curiously,
“Definitely not! I don’t think I’ve ever missed one of Ol’s races since he got into F2.” Charles groaned internally, clearly you were off limits, but did his best to look interested. You gave a giggle at the impressed face Charles made,
“That’s certainly dedication!” You nodded,
“Of course!”
“It’s good you get to be here for his first F1 weekend then. You seem like a very important person to him…” Charles gave a subtle dig for information and you were none the wiser to his motives,
“Well he’s my little brother so of course I would be!” Charles froze, Ollie was your what? You were his sister? Charles wasn’t sure if that thought made him more nervous or more relieved.
“You’re Ollie’s sister?” He asked incredulously,
“Yes…” You replied hesitantly, unsure why his reaction was so serious. Charles felt himself exhaling in relief before he looked at your face, an eyebrow raised and your arms crossed,
“Is that so unbelievable? I mean I know we don't look as alike as other siblings but...” He shook his head,
“No, no!” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and looked away, not wanting to see your reaction to his next statement, “I just uhhh, I thought you might have been a girlfriend or something…” You couldn’t help the way the laughter tipped out of you,
“Ew! No way!” You held a hand out to Charles, “Hi, I’m Y/N Bearman.” You emphasised your surname and Charles felt a grin stretching across his face that matched your own,
“Charles.” You sighed internally at the sight of his dimples popping out and resisted the urge to poke them. “I actually noticed you earlier and I thought you were far too pretty to be any regular garage guest.” You giggled at his bold flirting,
“Well I’m glad that you noticed me back then… There was no way someone as good looking as you can walk around without grabbing attention… Especially in the red suit…” With a wink, Charles found himself speechless, not something that was a common occurrence, especially when it came to flirting and talking to women, but he loved it.
“So now we’ve cleared up that little mishap, could I maybe get your num–”
The door to the room behind you opening caught your attention and both you and Charles watched as Ollie appeared, stretching and inhaling deeply,
“Oh there you are.” Charles felt his stomach flip with anxiety, hoping Ollie hadn’t heard him flirting with you. That would not look good for him or help his teammate's mental state. But damn, if he wasn’t more than a little disappointed… You seemed to have recovered quite well though, brushing off the previous conversation easily,
“Good morning sunshine, sleep well?”
“Mhmm,” Ollie leaned against you and nodded, “I needed that.”
“We all need a pre-race nap sometimes,” Hearing Charles' voice caused Ollie to wake up fully, standing upright as he acknowledged the older driver.
“You’ll be fine mate.” Charles placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder and squeezed, “I actually came to find you, thought I could talk you through how to handle some of the corners with the steering?” Ollie gave him a look of appreciation and together they headed back towards the garage. You felt yourself melt that Charles was doing his best to help your little brother and you watched with a dopey grin on your face as the two of them made their way down the hallway,
“I’m gonna go find dad!” Ollie waved at you to signal he’d heard you before he was gone.
You took a moment, going back into the room and closing the door behind you. Holy shit you’d just had an entire conversation with Charles Leclerc, he had called you pretty and was he about to ask for your number? You huffed and rolled your eyes. Your brother had the shittiest timing sometimes.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀
With big red headphones on, you anxiously watched the screen. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you nervously brought them up to your face, almost not wanting to watch just in case anything went wrong. You got nervous watching Ollie every time he raced, but this weekend the stakes were higher and your nerves were more frazzled. Q1 had gone well but now the pressure was on. Pace was being set and each car seemed to be lapping faster and faster. You turned to look at your Dad who didn’t look any better than you. You reached across and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. He smiled at you before you both turned your attention back to the big screens at the back of the garage.
As your brother set out on his flying lap you found yourself yelling encouragement along with the mechanics and engineers in the garage, despite the fact he couldn’t hear you.
“Come on Ollie!” You looked at the times up on the board already and willed your brother to get even a tenth of a second off their times.
You couldn’t have cared less about his time though as long as he made it back safely. You watched your brother’s car fly across the finish line and you waited with bated breath for the confirmation of his time to come through. You felt your dad’s hand squeeze yours before you were both cursing under your breath,
0.036 seconds. That’s all there was in it. You felt your Dad wrap you up in a hug, exhaling in relief that your brother had made it through qualifying safely.
You knew he’d be beating himself up when he came back to the garage and you took the bright Ferrari red headphones off your head,
“Dad, I’m gonna go and wait for him,” Your dad nodded, already in conversation with some of the Ferrari engineers about how they could make race day easier for Ollie. You headed to his room, wanting to be there when he got back and you’d barely taken a seat before the door swung open and in came a slightly tense looking Ollie.
“I know you’re going to tell me I did a good job and I appreciate that but I’m almost more frustrated that it was so close.” He sighed and you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as he took a seat next to you,
“I’m proud of you Ols.” He smiled gratefully as the door was pushed open an inch,
“Uh… hello?”
“Charles?” You were confused as the Monegasque man’s head poked round the door and he nodded at Ollie,
“Solid drive mate!” Ollie grumbled next to you and you whacked his thigh,
“Ow!” He huffed at you, and you glared at him as you tilted your head in Charles direction,
“Sorry, thank you Charles.” Charles gave a laugh,
“It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” Another knock sounded through the room and one of Ollie’s engineers called for him to go and discuss some seat adjustments for the race. You stood up as he went to leave,
“Hey! If you think I’m not giving you a bear hug after all that, you’re very much mistaken.” Ollie laughed and turned back round, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist, squeezing slightly and hoping he could feel just how proud you were,
“Love you stinky.”
“Love you too dummy” He pulled away and left the room, closing the door behind him,
“Bear hug?” You looked at Charles who stood there with a slight smile across his face and a raised eyebrow,
“Mhmm! They’re very special and you actually can’t give them without the necessary qualifications.”
“Ah.” Charles said seriously, “And what qualifications are those?” You giggled,
“The Bearman surname!” Charles felt a laugh rumble up from deep in his chest at your giggle. God you were spellbinding.
“Your brother did an amazing job today.” You smiled in appreciation, speaking genuinely,
“Thank you.”
“What are you up to this evening then?”
“Oh uhhh… well I’ve been watching a new series recently so probably just watching a couple of episodes and maybe ordering room service…” You facepalmed internally at how boring you were making yourself sound to an F1 driver, “Sorry that probably sounds kinda sad huh?” Charles shook his head and waved his hands to emphasise himself,
“No, no! It actually sounds… pretty nice…” For the briefest moment you considered how to reply before your mouth was opening and you couldn’t stop yourself,
“You’re welcome to join me if you want?” you froze. Oh fuck. Had you just invited Charles Leclerc to binge watch Netflix with you and eat off the room service menu while you wore sweatpants and a crusty old t-shirt?
“You don’t have to-”
“I would love to-”
“Oh.” You nervously giggled at each other before your eyes dropped to the floor, too shy to keep looking at him.
“I would love to join you… if that’s okay?” You nodded enthusiastically,
"Of course!”
“Give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?" He held his phone out to you and you nodded, typing your number in and handing it back to him, “Great! You guys are staying at the same hotel as us tonight right?” You made a noise of confirmation,
“Mhmm, they moved us for the weekend. I-I’m in room 604” You could have sworn Charles blushed as you said your room number.
You were so flustered that it appeared your brain wasn’t working correctly, your tongue getting tied as you tried to continue the conversation,
“Uh, you don’t need to bring anything, clothing is optional.”
“Excuse me?!” Charles froze as he stared at you. Did you just tell him that clothing was optional? He didn’t think you were that bold, or that you had an angle. His mind drifted to the thought of you opening the door naked for the quickest second before you realised you mistake and pulled him out of his thoughts,
“Fuck no! I meant comfy clothing is optional! Like you can wear whatever, like sweatpants or even pyjamas if you wanted to, or-or-or if you really wanted you uhhh you could wear no clothes I guess but- wait no this isn’t me trying to get you naked I promise!” You finished your ramble panicking just as a loud laugh burst out of Charles. Your head dropped into your hands and you whined in embarrassment as Charles' hands found his knees, unable to stand up straight at how hard he was laughing.
“Fuck you’re cute.” You inhaled sharply, eyes shooting down to the floor and biting your lip softly through a smile,
“Oh?”
“Mhmm” You felt your cheeks heat up as it sunk in that he’d called you cute, after you’d embarrassed yourself no less!
“Anyway…” Charles attempted to move the conversation forward, desperate to make you gasp again like you had a moment ago, “I’ll be there later,” He moved towards the door, leaning in as he did so “I hope clothing is optional for you too.” And with a brush of his shoulder against yours he was gone. Noise from the hallway and nearby garages poured in through the open door and you didn’t move until Ollie came back,
“What happened to you?”
“N-nothing! Just talked with Charles a bit.” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed giving him a shove,
“Come on, I’m done so we’re gonna go back to the hotel! I need sleep.”
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀
You rushed around your hotel room, ensuring any stray socks or underwear were tucked away in your case and any possible embarrassing items were safely hidden out of sight. Thankfully you'd found a slightly less crusty and slightly less old t-shirt in your suitcase and you'd thrown that on over over some shorts that were a considerably more socially acceptable choice than your tattered travel sweatpants.
Your eyes swept around the room and gave one final check. Charles had texted five minutes ago to say that he was on his way up and so you knew there would be a knock at the door any second. Grabbing some extra pillows from the closet, you placed them on the bed and pulled up Netflix just in time for the door to sound.
“Coming!” You raced over to the door before stopping, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. You opened the door,
“Do you have a spare toothbrush?”
“Ollie?!”
“Yes…? It’s me? Your brother?” Ollie looked at you suspiciously as you stuck your head out of the door and looked up and down the corridor, “Are you expecting someone?” You choked on air,
“Me?! Expecting someone? Pfft, no!” Though you had been thanking those higher powers earlier in the day, you now cursed them out as at the end of the corridor the elevator dinged, both yours and Ollie’s heads snapped to look as the doors opened and there stood Charles. Ollie looked at you and gave a laugh,
“Not expecting anyone, hmm?” Your eyes widened.
“He’s not here for me!” Ollie crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly,
“Oh no?” You felt your heart race as Charles came down the corridor. You sighed and looked at Ollie, trying to sense how he felt about it,
“If it makes you mad or upset or uncomfortable then no, he's not here for me.”
Charles approached the two of you and slowed his pace, sensing a conversation was happening that he didn’t need to hear, but still he couldn’t deny that he was curious. It was obvious you were talking about him. Ollie’s arms dropped to grab your shoulders,
“Y/N, you’ve already given up an insane amount for me to be able to pursue this… Why would I ever be mad about you wanting a fun date night?” You pursed your lips,
“It’s not a date.” Ollie’s facial expression dead panned,
“Yuh huh, okay, and I’m gonna win the race tomorrow.” You flicked his forehead and heard Charles stifle a laugh to the side.
“Just wait here, I’ll get you the toothbrush.” You grumbled going back into the hotel room.
Charles coughed nervously as he stood in front of Ollie. Though he was younger than Charles, he was taller and Charles found the way he was staring at him ever so slightly intimidating.
“Don’t keep her up late, don’t do anything to upset her and if you make her cry I’ll turn you into the wall tomorrow.” Ollie glared at him and Charles chuckled nervously,
“Noted. I would never want to make her cry,” Ollie watched as Charles stared after you with a dopey smile, “I do wanna make her smile though, her smile is pretty.” Ollie coughed a laugh into his hand, Charles was seemingly already down bad and he knew you were too.
“Can I ask a question?” Ollie nodded,
“Shoot.”
“What did you mean by she’s given up a lot for you?” Ollie sighed, shuffling his feet almost uncomfortably.
“Dad couldn’t travel with me because of work, Mum couldn’t leave our other siblings at home because they were too young so it was Y/N that moved around with me and travelled with me.” Charles nodded, encouraging Ollie to continue,
“She didn’t go on dates or go out clubbing with friends or get a boyfriend because she left it all behind for me. She even decided to not go to uni... She says she doesn’t mind but…” He trailed off,
“You still feel bad?” Charles finished for him. Ollie shrugged,
“Wouldn’t you? She says she got to travel more than anyone else her age and got to experience tons of stuff while seeing the world so I guess to her it doesn’t matter as much.” Charles hummed, starting to understand just how close you and Ollie were.
“You know when Arthur got sick last year it was Y/N that took care of him and drove him to the hospital?” Charles head whipped up to look at Ollie,
“That was Y/N?”
“Yep. She drove him to the hospital and stayed with him all night, then brought him back home the next day. She made him soup and helped him take all his medicine on time and stuff.” Charles found his heart growing even warmer. He’d remembered how panicked both he and his mother had been when they learned the youngest Leclerc was extremely unwell, until his mother had received a call to say someone was looking after him - now he knew it was you!
Ollie smiled to himself, glad that in some roundabout way he was now able to do something for you. It was clear you and Charles were already both smitten with each other.
“Got it!” You reappeared at the door and flourished the toothbrush under his nose.
“Thank you!”
“Mhmm! What were you guys talking about?”
“Race strategies-”
“The room service menu-” Your eyes narrowed slightly as they gave different answers at the same time and you looked between them,
“O…kay…? Cool… Well, you need to relax.” You gave Ollie a look and he saluted, turning round and heading back to his room a few doors down,
“Yes coach!” You shook your head before turning to Charles and opening the door wider,
“You coming in?”
He smiled and made his way into your room, noting how you’d added a few little touches here and there to make it feel like home even though you were thousands of miles away,
“Cute pictures,” Charles wandered over to the vanity where you had put up some small pictures of your family and friends at home, pictures of you and Ollie at various tourist spots round the world and a few family pets.
“It makes the distance a little less… distance-y.”
“I get it.”
“Soooo uhhh…” You stood in the middle of the room and nervously kicked your foot into the floor,
“I see we both decided to wear clothes.” Charles smirked and you couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out,
“Indeed we did.”
“I can’t pretend I’m not slightly disappointed…” He gave you his best attempt at a wink and you hid a smile behind your hand, “I’m still working on it…” He huffed. As he stood there pouting you took in the sight of him in front of you. Dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a white sweatshirt he looked like the epitome of cosy soft boyfriend vibes.
“Are you hungry?” Charles took the lead and you were internally thankful for that.
“Kind of? We could have a look and see what takes our fancy? Although I’m pretty sure that the majority of the items listed are not approved by your PT…” Charles waved you off,
“We all break our diets more regularly than you’d except.”
“Tell me about it… I keep having to remind Ollie that chicken nuggets are not nutritious and healthy all the time.” Charles tipped his head back and let out a laugh and you found yourself unable to stop giggling along with him. The laughter eased the remaining tension and you settled onto the bed, patting the spot next to you to encourage him to sit.
The two of you sat on the bed, perusing the menu and selecting what you wanted before he called down to order it. While you waited you talked about anything and everything. The race tomorrow, how warm it was in Jeddah, your favourite places you’d travelled to, musicians you listened to regularly. You found yourself falling into conversation with him so easily, it was difficult to remember that you’d only known each other for a few hours.
When the food arrived Charles was firm in getting you to stay sat down while he answered the door, determined to treat you like a princess.
“Charles, I can walk to the door!” You giggled,
“Non! You will wait here and I will go.” He bowed before he walked to the door and you rolled your eyes, a smile plastered across your face.
“Here you are, madame, your food.”
“Why thank you kind sir.” Taking the plate from him you fluffed up the pillow behind you, clicking on your laptop to reload Netflix. “What do you feel like watching? Drive to Survive?” You asked, doing your best to hold in your laughter when Charles’ head shot up, looking ever so slightly traumatised,
“Absolutely not!” You fell into laughter as he climbed onto the bed next to you,
“How about a Studio Ghibli movie?” he nodded, taking a bite of his food, “The music is beautiful! I think you’d really like it!”
“Let’s do it!” You nodded, clicking on Howl’s Moving Castle and loading it up.
The two of you watched the movie in silence for a while and you watched as Charles’ fingers tapped along in time with the rhythm of the music. You felt yourself getting swept up in the story, not even noticing Charles’ eyes on you.
“I love this part!” You sat up a little and Charles followed suit, subtly moving his arm to rest behind you. You glanced around to see his hand almost over your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat up quickly.
“S-sorry!” He went to move,
“N-no, it’s okay…” You looked at him and moved a little closer until your thigh was touching his and his arm was fully around you. Charles smiled down at you as you settled back down and got comfy. God he could get used to this… He daydreamed for a second about getting to do this with you after every race weekend.
For the rest of the film, you stayed firmly in Charles embrace, even daring to place one of your hands in his as the characters on screen also held hands. Soft smiles and shy glances were all you exchanged occasionally. You did your absolute best to fight the wave of sleepiness threatening to overtake you but with the heat from Charles’ body and the cosy bed and the soft music of the film, you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut. Your head dropped to rest between his shoulder and chest as the credits rolled and Charles looked down as best he could to see you asleep. He smiled to himself, refusing to move even when his shoulder started to cramp up. He looked at the clock on the wall across the room and realised he had better sleep. After all, he still had a race to drive.
He slowly shuffled, careful to support your head as he laid you down on the pillow. You sighed in your sleep and shuffled closer to him, seeking out the warmth he provided. Charles found himself facing an internal battle. Did he stay and risk you feeling uncomfortable and offended or leave and risk you feeling upset he didn’t stay? As he debated the correct answer, you made the decision for him. Half-awake you tugged on the sleeve of his sweater.
“Don’t go… warm…” You whined and he completely melted, sliding onto the bed next to you and lying on his back. You felt his heart race as you cuddled into his side and rested your head on his chest. Charles gently ran his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you dozed on his chest.
“Hey Y/N?” He said lowly,
“Mhmm?” You blinked sleepily,
“Would it be okay if I kissed your forehead amour?” You nodded,
“More than okay,” With a contented sigh, you relaxed once more, Charles leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. There was a pause before he leant down to kiss your forehead again, only to find his lips against yours.
The two of you pulled apart quickly, you were now wide awake and sat up next to him while he led there in shock, eyes wide. If you weren’t so surprised, you probably would have laughed at the way Charles lips almost seemed stuck in a pout before he raced to sit up and apologise,
“Fuck I’m so sorry!” He cried,
“You’re sorry? I’m sorry!” Your eyes mirrored his,
“I shouldn’t have just leaned down to kiss you again.”
“It’s okay Charles really… I…” You went quiet for a moment and he gently reached for your hand,
“What is it?” You bit your lip, not daring to look at him.
“I-I…”
“Take your time amour.” He smiled at you encouragingly as his thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand,
“I kind of liked it…” You whispered, eyes squeezing shut,
“Only kind of?” He asked, genuinely, not wanting to scare you.
“C-can we try again?” You opened your eyes and felt him gently tilt your chin to look up at him,
“You want to try again?” You nodded and Charles shook his head,
“Non mon ange, I need to hear you say it. I’m not going to kiss you without you telling me it’s okay-”
“Please. Charles. I want you to kiss me… I just might not be very good at it, you see I haven’t really had much practice so please forgive me if its bad…”
Any remaining words died on your tongue as Charles cupped your face with the hand that had been holding your chin and his other arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you a little closer to him.
“Just follow my lead ma belle.” Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath swept across your lips. You expected to feel his lips against yours but you were pleasantly surprised at the feeling of his lips kissing your forehead once more. Your eyes stayed shut as he pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, then the other. A quick peck to the nose left your giggling, before he placed a kiss to your jawline that left you breathless,
“Please… Charles…” His lips were almost on yours again and you felt them brush yours slightly as he spoke,
“Please what mon ange?”
“Kiss me.” Any little part of you that had been frustrated by his teasing only moments ago was certainly glad of it now. It made the moment his lips touched yours all that much sweeter. Any nerves melted away as he held you gently.
There was no heavy panting or biting, no licking or sucking. Just his lips caressing yours. Your head spun as he finally pulled away to let you take a breath just for a moment. You chased his lips, not quite ready to let him go yet and he let out a contented hum at the way you pressed your lips to him once more. He swore he fell even harder when you smiled into the kiss. You gasped when he pulled you into his lap and the kiss fell apart as you both dissolved into giggles. Your tummy flipped in the most delightful way as his nose gently rubbed against yours,
“Was that okay?” Your hands linked around the back of his head and found the short hair there, gently threading your fingers through and twisting it round. You leaned down to whisper,
“My turn…” His eyes closed, blissfully as you traced your own kisses across his face, in awe of the way his long lashes sat on his cheeks. You placed a small kiss on top of the freckle on his cheek and giggled at the way his stubble tickled your nose and lips, he opened his eyes and watched your wiggling your nose,
“Tickles.” He placed his hands on your hips and softly rubbed his thumbs just under your shirt. You smiled down at him and nodded,
“Words ma belle.”
“Yes Charles, you can.” He smiled up at you and pouted to ask for a kiss,
“Merci ma belle.” He slid his hands under your shirt to gently hold your hips and feel the soft skin there. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness and the comfort he was providing.
“I’m so glad I asked you to come over.” A kiss to your forehead was your answer,
“Me too…”
Neither of you moved for a few minutes, just feeling each other breathe. Feeling how your heart rates slowed after racing from the excitement of kissing. You hadn’t even noticed yourself getting sleepy again but Charles had.
“Ma belle, I need to go…” You nodded but didn’t move, Charles chuckled, “Ma belle?”
“Do you have to?” Charles cooed at how sleepy you sounded,
“If I stay here I won’t sleep, I’ll just want to kiss you and hold you all night and I have a race tomorrow.” You conceded and lifted your head but remained in his lap,
“That was actually my plan.” Charles head tilted, “Distract the competition so Ollie can sneak through.” Charles head dropped to your collarbone with a laugh,
“So sneaky mon ange…” You nodded, climbing off of his lap and taking a seat next to him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood up but found himself unable to help leaning back down to kiss you just once… twice… three times more. You pushed his chest and smiled,
“Go Charles! I’ll see you in the morning.” He let himself out of your room and as soon as the door had closed you were squealing into your pillow, giddy with excitement and stomach full of butterflies.
And if Charles did the same thing when he got back to his room? Well that was his business.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀
“Good morning!”
“You are far too happy this morning. What happened with Charles? Did you kiiiiiiiiss him?” You glared at Ollie who stood in the door of your hotel room making kissy faces at you.
“Whatever happened between me and Charles is between us.” You grabbed your bag and headed towards the elevator at the end of the hallway, Ollie easily falling into step beside you,
“So something did happen?”
“Maybe! I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Your brother knocked his shoulder into yours, turning serious,
“It’s not. It’s just nice to see you so happy.” You stood in front of the elevator doors and turned to Ollie,
“Thanks Ols.”
“But also I need to know if I need to crash him into the wall today.”
“hUH?!”
When you reached the Ferrari garage, you were excited to support your brother but also excited to see Charles again. You spotted him not long after entering the garage, his back was to you but even seeing the back of his head was enough to send you into a smile that alerted everyone in the near vicinity that you had it bad for the man wearing number 16. One of the mechanics stood with him greeted Ollie and Charles turned round, face breaking into an identical grin at the sight of you in a Ferrari red dress. Your Dad elbowed you,
“Is there something going on I need to know about? Spill the tea bestie” He wiggled his eyebrows and you snorted, leaning into him and bumping your head against his shoulder affectionately,
“There’s no tea to spill dad, and Ollie, stop teaching Dad phrases you think he needs to know!” Your Dad and Ollie laughed as you made your way over to Charles,
“Hi.”
“Hi. You look beautiful.” Charles found himself breathless as he took in your full appearance.
“Did you get any sleep?” A goofy grin crept across his face,
“Filled with dreams of you ma belle, I slept wonderfully. And you?” You nodded,
“Something similar I guess…”
“You guess?”
“Mhmm…” You gasped as you felt his hand slowly grab yours, his fingers interlocking with yours,
“Charles! What if someone sees?”
“I don’t mind people seeing me holding hands with the prettiest girl at the race today.” You gently tapped his chest and shook your head,
“You’re so silly.” You looked across the garage as you heard Ollie’s laugh and Charles’ face turned serious, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze to get your attention,
“I actually wanted to say that I totally understand that you’re here for Ollie today. It’s lovely to see you but I’m not going to take you away from supporting your brother when he needs you.” You gave his hand a squeeze back in appreciation,
“Thank you Charles. We’ll catch up later though! Good luck, race safe!”
Charles felt his cheek turning as red as his car as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek before darting across the garage with a giggle. He stared after you with a dumb lovestruck look on his face, one hand coming up to hold his cheek,
“Oh my friend, you have it bad, no?” Charles whirled round to see Carlos and some of the engineers staring at him, amused looks on their faces.
“I wish they hadn’t let you leave the hospital today.” Carlos laughed, wincing slightly as he did so,
“And miss our little Charles in love? No way! This is more entertaining than the race will be.”
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀
You stood with Ollie in the garage as he waited until the last second to get in the car.
“You ready?” He inhaled,
“I guess we’ll find out huh? It’s now or never…” You smiled at him, handing him his helmet. You had your pre-race routine with Ollie that consisted of making sure he had one last sip of water, helping him put his helmet on before kissing where his forehead would be inside the helmet and finally a bear hug. You’d done it before every race since he was in his karting days and his debut F1 race would be no different.
Charles caught sight of this and smiled. It was good that the young driver had such a great support system. In a slightly weird way he was almost envious that he didn't have someone to do those things for him. He watched as you held Ollie's bottle up to his lips before placing it to the side, buckling his helmet up once it was on his head. Charles' heart grew warm as he watched Ollie bend down so you could reach to kiss his forehead. You and Ollie were unaware of your audience, just completely in your own little bubble.
"Can't believe I have to bend for you to reach my forehead now." It was a throwaway comment from Ollie but it left you with tears welling up in your eyes. Oh how he'd grown.
When this ritual first started he was just a kid. Far shorter than you, almost looking too small for his kart. He had been so young but his dreams were big. You felt your bottom lip quiver as you watched your brother's dreams become reality in front of your eyes. You knew he felt guilty that you'd given so much up.
"Bear hug?" You asked, holding your arms out. Ollie wrapped you up in the tightest hug he could manage,
"Thank you." He didn't need to say what for. You knew.
"If I had to, I'd do it all over again." He squeezed you just a little more before he was pulling away and climbing into that red car that he'd long dreamed of. You felt your dad come alongside you and pull you into his side, the two of you both misty-eyed with tearful smiles.
Watching his car leave the garage for the grid you couldn't help the way you looked around for Charles. You caught sight of him and approached him,
"Are you alright ma belle?" You wiped your eyes hastily,
"Yeah, just a little overwhelmed?" Charles gave an understanding nod,
"It makes perfect sense mon ange." You cleared your throat,
"But I have another pre-race ritual to complete." Charles eyes shot to yours, "unless you already have one and then I won't interfere-"
"Please." You gave him a soft smile and took his helmet from him to allow him to do up his suit properly,
"What do you still need to do?" Charles looked almost shy as he gave his request,
"Could you help me put my helmet on?" Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded, gently tugging on his helmet to pull it down when he grabbed your wrists,
"Wait."
"What?" Your eyes searched his, worried you'd somehow hurt him or done it wrong, his face broke into a grin,
"Can I get a kiss before my helmet goes on?" You looked around the garage, everyone busy with their own jobs and not really paying you much attention.
"Are you sure?" Charles nodded.
You looked for a small space of skin not covered by his balaclava and pressed a light kiss to his cheek just under his eye. His eyes shut as if he was savouring the moment before he nodded at you to pull his helmet down. He watched your face contort into an expression of concentration as you buckled his helmet up with so much precision and care.
"What comes next?"
"Help me with my gloves?" His voice was muffled through the helmet, you nodded and took his gloves from him. Helping him put one on and squeezing that hand before switching to the other one.
"Can I suggest one last thing?" He nodded, "I think you should have a bear hug." You couldn't see his smile through his helmet but the way he enthusiastically pulled you into his arms told you all you needed to know. You stood there for a moment just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. You rested your head on his chest and sighed. His hand gently caressed up and down your back before he was being called to climb into his car. You squeezed him one last time for good measure before he was gone and off to line up for the start of the race.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀
Your throat was sore from all the yelling and screaming you'd done at the screen, your legs were about to give out from the adrenaline rush and your cheeks hurt from the smiling you'd done. You had tears in your eyes again as you watched your brother cross the line in 7th for his first ever F1 grand prix. Turning to hug your dad you nodded at Carlos who sat across the garage. He gave you a warm smile and a knowing wink as the garage began rushing to the podium for Charles. You were bouncing on your feet as you waited to see Ollie, Charles, either of them, both of them?
The pitlane was packed as fans, teams and reporters all swarmed down to the podium. And there, pushing his way through all of it, was Ollie. You couldn't help the scream that left your throat as you sprinted to him. Pulling him into a huge hug.
"Oh my god bear." You practically sobbed, "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Ollie slid his helmet off and his face was lit up,
"Oh my god that was amazing! Intense, but amazing!" You giggled as he moved his neck experimentally before wincing, "Yeah I'm gonna need a physio appointment like... as soon as possible." You let out a laugh,
"Dad was already on it by about lap four don't worry!"
"Thank fuck." Your brother exhaled, eyes widening dramatically. You observed the way the podium was getting increasingly busy.
"Go." Ollie looked at you, "You know you want toooo..." He sang,
"But..."
"No buts, butts are for sitting." Ollie, closed his eyes as if he would hear no further arguments. He leant in close, "I think it would mean a lot to him too."
"Ollie I can't just g-"
"Excuse me, Carlos?" Ollie called to the older driver, "You're going the the podium aren't you?" Carlos motioned that he was,
"Are you going to?" You looked at Ollie and he gave an encouraging nod,
"Go!" You looked at Carlos,
"Lead the way."
It was packed. You wondered if Carlos should really be making his way through the crowd given his condition, but they almost seemed to part for him. It certainly made things easier for you so you couldn’t complain. You stood next to Carlos right in front of the barrier underneath the podium. You were just in time. The announcer spoke Charles' name and he walked out onto the podium, he had a huge grin that stretched from cheek to cheek. He stood there for a moment before looking down at his team
Charles felt his heart stop. There was no way. Was there? You were stood celebrating his podium? Charles had never wanted a podium ceremony to be over quicker in his life. He was dying to get back down there and hold you in his arms again, maybe even kiss you if he was lucky. As he was handed his trophy he looked down once more, pointing at you. To the cameras it would look like he was pointing at his mechanics, or even Carlos. But you knew. Even though he was fairly far away from you he could still see how your eyes shone up at him. The way they sparkled not just under the floodlights of the track but from the way you were just looking at him.
You weren’t aware of anything around you. Not Carlos smirking at the way you and Charles watched each other, not the music, not the champagne, nor the fireworks that now exploded in the sky above Jeddah rivalling the fireworks that were going off in your tummy at the way Charles gazed at you with so much adoration.
As soon as he could, Charles was racing off the podium and Carlos led you back to the Ferrari garage where he would soon appear. You waited, almost pacing back and forth. Ollie watched you knowingly,
“You really like him huh?” You froze,
“Is it that obvious?!” Ollie scoffed,
“Uh? Yes!” You rolled your eyes before Carlos called your name,
“Y/N you can wait in his room if you want? It’s opposite Ollie’s.” You nodded and wound your way through the now familiar corridors of Ferrari’s garage. You made it to Charles' room and settled down on the couch. Now to wait.
You didn’t have to wait long before the door was bursting open and a champagne drenched Charles was striding across the room, placing his trophy down on the couch before sweeping you into his arms, nose tracing up your neck,
“Ma belle…”
“Charles! That tickles!” Charles laughed and your legs went weak as you felt his chest rumble against you.
“Wanted to do this as soon as I got out of the car.” He mumbled. You gently held his face in your hands and brought his face up to look at you,
“Congratulations handsome.” Charles smiled, leaning in before catching himself and stopping with a groan,
“Can I kiss you? Please say yes ma belle… Please fuck… I need to kiss you, it’s all I've wanted to do since the race ended, need to kiss you, please?”
“Yes, Charles.”
“Thank you amour.” His lips met yours and you sighed as you tasted the sweet champagne from his lips. He was sticky and sweaty but he was so Charles. You hummed happily before he gently bit your lip, eliciting a whine from you. He growled a little at the sound before pulling away,
“We need to stop ma belle.”
“Awww…” You pouted and he laughed, poking the lip that was jutting out.
“I’m not going to do this with you in my driver’s room of all places, especially when I’m sweaty and covered in champagne.”
“I don’t know…” Your arms circled his neck as you leaned into him, “I think it’s a good look.” His hands found your hips and he couldn’t help the way his thumbs traced tiny circles.
“You know… I think you should come to F1 races more often…”
“Oh?”
“Mhmm” Charles looked at you, “I think your ritual got me my podium today.” You stared at him for a second before laughing,
“You think so?” He pressed a final kiss to your lips and nodded,
“Absolutely!”
“Then I think I need to come and stand in the Ferrari garage more often.” Charles pulled you into a hug,
“That sounds perfect.”
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀
BONUS INSTAGRAM POSTS
y/nbearman
Liked by olliebearman, scuderiaferrari and 23,196 others
y/nbearman little weekend photodump ft. very on brand red outfits, the nicest hospitality and garage I've ever stood in, Ollie's first F1 race and post-race dinner and Dad's first TV interview for sky sports
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olliebearman Think that was definitely Dad's favourite part of the weekend
⤷ y/nbearman Papa bear for commentator 2025?
Comment liked by skysportsf1 and olliebearman
⤷ olliebearman ICON
bearmanfan they have the cutest sibling relationship I swear 🥺
lalaleclerc PLS TELL ME Y'ALL ALSO SAW CHARLES LOOKING AT HER IN THE GARAGE
⤷ charleswifey omg yesssss 😭 he really thought no one was looking but there was a whole ass camera on him
⤷ y/nbearman wHAT?
⤷ lalaleclerc oops 🥹
charles_leclerc can't wait to have you in the garage again ma belle
Comment liked by y/nbearman
⤷ y/nbearman looking forward to it handsome
⤷ f1f1fan wait. WHAT?
⤷ bearmanfam Y/N AND CHARLES?!
scuderiaferrari We're so glad you had a good weekend! Ollie is our new fave 🫶🏼
⤷ charles_leclerc ouch
⤷ carlossainz55 I've been gone less than one weekend 🧍♂️
⤷ y/nbearman you're so real for this admin I approve
⤷ scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️
charlesandcarlos I had no clue who this girl was until they said on the commentary that she was Ollie's sister, damn they have good genes
⤷ y/nfanpage isn't she the prettiest!!
⤷ olllie charles has good taste
Comment liked by charles_leclerc
⤷ charlessss does anyone know what she does for a living?
⤷ bearmanfam it's actually so sweet 🥺 she gave up on going to uni and following her own career path for a while to travel with Ollie and support him in F2! she's basically his PA, manager, photographer, nutritionist, therapist, best friend and sister rolled into one
⤷ charlessss holy shit 🧍♀️ we STAN her
bearmanhug is it just me that thought we'd get a really mushy post from y/n like when Ollie finished the F2 season last year?
⤷ ferrarifan no same here
⤷ y/nbearman oh it's incoming don't worry 🤭
⤷ ferrawri OH FUCK WE AREN'T READY
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀
y/nbearman
Liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 21,874 others
y/nbearman to say that I'm proud of you is an understatement. you make me proud every day no matter whether you win or lose not just on the track but off too. but this weekend I'm in absolute awe of you. the results you've achieved just show the hard work and dedication you've put into this sport. I know your passion to succeed and improve will take you far! this is just the beginning of amazing things to come. forever proud of you and I've always got your back.
I love you to the end of the line baby bear
❤️❤️❤️
tagged: @.olliebearman
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olliebearman love you too sun bear
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bearmanfam OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK 😭
⤷ bearmanfam ollie once said in an interview that his sister always makes him smile and lights up his day and that's why he calls her sun bear! she calls him baby bear because he's younger than her
⤷ charlesandcarlos I'm pretty sure she used red hearts bc he drove for Ferrari this week 🥹
Comment liked by y/nbearman
⤷ bearmanfam omg YES ❤️
⤷ charlesandcarlos CONFIRMED ❤️
charles_leclerc superb driving today! you should absolutely be proud. keep driving like that and it won't be long until we'll be sharing the track every week @.olliebearman
Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman
⤷ carlossainz55 no doubt about it!
lewishamilton amazing job today kid 💜
leclerclove The way the old photos are in black and white and the photos from the weekend are in colour like it's a new era 😭
⤷ smoothoperatorrr omg I didn't think of that 😭😭
⤷ charleswifeyyyy The childhood pictures are so fucking cute too 😭
landonorris great results today! can't wait to see what you do in the future!
ferrariiiii "I love you to the end of the line" AS IN THE FINISH LINE?!
⤷ f1fan STOP OH MY GOD 😭😭😭
carlossssainzzz I'm not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a baby reading this post 🥹 like it's so clear that they love and support one another
⤷ scuderiaferrari we're crying too! 🥹❤️
Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman
f1fannnn all the drivers commenting their support and congratulations 😭
fanoferrari "this is just the beginning" I-🥹😭
⤷ olsbearmannn "you make me proud every day"
maxverstappen1 An amazing drive mate!
#mimi.writes#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman x you#ollie bearman fluff#charles leclerc instagram au#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 one shot#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 oneshot
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thick thighs save lives (but ruin racing suits) | ln4, op81
hi! i got this idea from one tiktok i saw today. this one goes for my plus size girlies (including myself lmao) so please enjoy as much as papaya boys would enjoy some pair of thick thighs!
summary: lando and oscar never seen their friend with something tight on, so when it comes to try on new racing suits she have a big surprise for them
warnings: slightly disturbed perception of body image
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver x lando norris
Y/N sometimes forgot that she was a girl.
At the beginning of her career she tried to make an effort to look good, showing that a male-dominated sport wouldn't take away her feminine grace. Years ago she used to wake up early, style her hair, do makeup and spend a lot of money on fixing cosmetics but unfortunately everything was lost due to sweat, a balaclava and a tight helmet. So the girl decided that this fight made absolutely no sense - she decided to stuck only to lip balm and mascara.
Despite keeping her makeup to a minimum, even her mascara remained treacherous, smearing under her eyes after each race or training session, making her look like a panda. In terms of clothes, the girl didn't have much opportunity to show off either. Her clothes were largely either team tracksuits, a racing suit, or just a baggy orange T-shirt and jeans.
And just as Oscar and Lando looked great after the race despite sweat and messy hair, her post-race glow didn't really existed. On the contrary, she looked as if she had a hard, sleepless night.
It is known that when media days fell on the calendar, the girl tried to look her best. She had light make-up and nicely styled hair, but her body was still covered by loose layers of clothes. It would seem that apart from her physiotherapist and the team doctor, no one around her had any idea what kind of figure the girl really had.
However, everything changed when the break between seasons came. When places had numerous galas and events and you could throw away uncomfortable helmets and team clothes. However, as we know, everything comes to an end at some point and we have to return to the gray reality. This was the case, when the day came and it was time to try on new racing suits for the upcoming season.
Y/N hugged Lando and Oscar upon seeing them outside the entrance to McLaren's headquarters. The trio hadn't had the opportunity to see each other for several weeks, so there was a lot of joy. In a good mood, surrounded by conversation, they went inside and immediately went to the designated place. After a short presentation of costumes, everyone received theirs and went to change, only to come back after a while and report any reservations regarding comfort and range of movement. Y/N took her suit without thinking and went to change. She was surprised when the suit got stuck on her butt and refused to go up any higher.
"What the hell"
The girl muttered under her breath, gripping her fit tighter and jumping in it several times. When it finally slid over her ass, Y/N slipped her hands into the sleeves and zipped up the zipper, sealing the Velcro around her neck. Something was definitely wrong. The girl looked in the mirror at her reflection. The outfit was great and looked amazing, the only problem was that it was a bit tight. Which shouldn't be the case, because the outfits were based on last season's, so the dimensions shouldn't differ drastically. It was impossible to gain so much weight in three months, right?
The girl turned around, looking at the back of her body. The outfit was definitely tight. Just as it was still relatively tight on her chest, it was very tight on her thighs and butt.
Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, looking at her reflection. Have she really always had such big thighs? Did she actually gain weight during the past break?
She was brought out of her thoughts by a knock on the bathroom and the voices of Lando and Oscar outside the door.
"Are you ready?"
The girl felt her cheeks burning with shame.
"I think I have a problem"
Hearing this, the friends fell silent and looked at each other.
"Can we come in?"
Y/N agreed quietly, still staring at herself in the mirror. With each passing second, she became more and more confused about her reflection.
Oscar and Lando entered the bathroom, also wearing their suits. When they noticed their friend standing with her back to them, the first thing they noticed was her butt. Lando quickly looked up at the ceiling and Oscar walked over to the girl, trying his hardest to focus on the reflection of her face in the mirror.
"What happened?"
Y/N bit her lip in shame and silently turned towards them. Her friends involuntarily looked at her, pretending they didn't know what she meant. But as soon as they saw the material tight around her ass from the entrance to the bathroom, they knew exactly what the matter was about.
"My suit is too tight" The girl said quietly, looking at herself "It doesn't fit at all"
Lando wrapped his arms around himself and covered his mouth with his hand. He tried his hardest not to speak, because all he could think about were comments about her thighs and whether she could crush him with them. It didn't get much easier for Oscar. He put his hands on his hips and looked at his friend silently. He was afraid that he would be unable to comfort her in any way, because his mind was completely blank.
Piastri cleared his throat after a while, trying to return from the land of fantasy and behave as if the whole situation was really dramatic.
"Is it very tight?"
"Oh, just look!"
The girl spread her arms and spun around. Lando bit his lip and tilted his head back. Oscar held his breath, having no idea what to say. He was totally mesmerized by her curves.
"I- Uhm, I think it's just a mistake and they'll make you a different one without any problem."
"Different one?" Y/N asked, feeling tears in her eyes. “What if it's not a mistake and I've gained weight these past few months?”
"After all, the tests showed that everything was fine with your measurements."
Oscar said calmly.
Y/N turned to the mirror again and looked at her reflection.
"What a total shit"
"Hey, don't say that" Lando was immediately outraged "You look great"
"Great?" The girl snorted, "Come on, I look ridiculous."
"To be honest, I agree with Lando one hundred percent."
Oscar replied, looking once more at the back of the girl's body.
"My thighs are a disaster! What kind of racing driver has such big thighs?"
The girl burst out, turning again towards them.
"Max has nice thighs," Lando pointed out, thinking for a moment, "I'm sure his thighs are the national pride of the Netherlands."
Y/N wasn't in the mood to joke. Devastated, she looked down her body.
Oscar walked up to her and hugged her without saying a word.
"You look beautiful. And you have a really amazing figure"
Lando walked over to his friends and hugged them as well.
The girl felt a little better with the support of her friends. However, for a moment she forgot that men would be men and nothing would ever dissuade them from having dirty thoughts.
"I agree with Oscar, because you really look great," Lando started. Oscar looked at him, knowing full well what was coming and knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop it. "But with all the respect I have for you as a friend and as a woman in general, holy shit, I would pay extra for you to strangle me with your thighs. And man, that mad bunda, too."
Y/N didn't know what to say for a moment. She only felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Did she just receive the strangest compliment of her life?
She freed herself a little from her friends' embrace and looked at Lando's face.
"Seriously?"
He seeing that his comment was not received negatively, quickly nodded.
"You have such a body that-" "Lando meant that you shouldn't worry about what you look like because you look really great."
Oscar interjected, knowing full well that Lando's comments should be kept to himself.
The girl smiled weakly and sniffled. Her friends' words lifted her spirits a bit.
"My only concern now is how I will get this contraption off of me."
Lando and Oscar smirked, involuntarily exchanging glances.
"I think we can help you with that."
#f1 imagines#f1 one shot#f1#formula 1#f1 oneshots#op81#f1 imagine#lando norris#ln4#oscar piastri#lando norris x reader x oscar piastri#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader
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Daniel Ricciardo (RB Visa) - Lover
Requested: yes
Prompt: Daniel and international popstar Y/n accidentally get married in Vegas
Warnings: nope
Daniel woke up in his hotel room with a pounding headache, groaning as he tried to open his eyes but being blinded by the sun coming through the windows each time. He turned around, cursing to himself before his eyes widened. Y/n, the Y/n lay beside him, in just a bra. While they had met several times before and hung out with similar people, this was the last person he expected to see in his bed the morning after a race weekend. He began questioning what had happened? What had he done? Or more importantly, who had he done? Whilst Daniel sat thinking about what to say to her when she woke up, he ultimately decided to order room service and go to the bathroom to actually think.....and maybe throw up.
Y/n was awoken by a door closing quite loudly. She jumped up, looking around, her eyes had grown wife as she realised that she wasn't asleep in her room, she was in someone else's. She heard footsteps coming and turned to see who it was. "Uh... morning?" Daniel croaked, his voice scratchy from the combination of dehydration and excessive partying. Y/n grabbed the bed covers and pulled them up over her chest. "What the fuck happened?" She mumbled to herself. "Yeah, I said the same thing."
Daniel scratched his head, replying, "I wish I knew. It's all a bit of a blur." Suddenly, his eyes widened as he noticed a shiny object on his finger. "You don't think this would have anything to do with it?" He lifted his hand to show Y/n, before she looked down, spotting the matching ring. "I got married in Vegas." She was so unbelievably angry with herself. Since she was a child she dreamed of this big extravagant wedding and now she just got married in Vegas?
She looked over to Daniel as he burst into laughter. "Well, you can't get rid of me now." Daniel chuckled, his Australian accent making the situation even more absurd. "Daniel, this is not funny, I'm going to get into so much shit!" Y/n said. Daniel turned to open his big bottle of champagne as Y/n continued her rant. "You're having champagne? At this time?" Daniel walked over to the bed with a glass and sat down, handing it to her and pouring her a glass. "Why are we still here? We should go get divorced!" Y/n implored him. "You need to know where you got married first." Daniel replied, drinking the champagne from the bottle as Y/n looked on. She downed the glass quickly before grabbing the bottle from Daniel. "I need more than a glass." She mumbled, amking Daniel laugh. "I don't know why you're so upset, I'd make a great husband."
"Daniel, can we just think about what happened and then we'll get down to the details of whether or not you're a good husband?" Daniel nodded before Y/n began to think. "So chief, what happened last night?" Daniel asked, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing ache. Y/n shook her head, her expression mirroring his confusion. "I don't really remember much. We were at that bar, right?" Daniel nodded slowly, bits and pieces of their escapades starting to trickle back into his consciousness. "Yeah, we were celebrating... something." He lifted the champagne tp his lips once more before handing it over to Y/n. She frowned, trying to recall the reason behind their impromptu celebration. "Was it the points you scored? Maybe my new song got number one?"
"Maybe we just got fucking wasted." Daniel shrugged, before Y/n slapped his bare chest, making him wince in pain. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry." Y/n said. "I vaguely recall a dance-off and a questionable karaoke rendition of 'I Will Survive.'" She ran her fingers through her hair. "Oh, great," Daniel chuckled. "Classic Vegas moves." As she continued on with the possibilities, Daniel looked at the crumpled looking paper on the night stand. Daniel unfolded it tentatively, his heart sinking as he read the words scrawled across the page: Marriage Certificate - Daniel Ricciardo & Y/n Y/l/n - Las Vegas, Nevada.
Y/n's hand flew to her forehead as the reality of their situation sunk in. "Oh my God... we actually got married." Daniel let out a chuckle laugh, his mind oscillating between disbelief and amusement. "I know. I would have actually gotten you a nice ring. Maybe an expensive one?" Y/n slapped his chest again. "Yeah, it's still sore when you do that."
"Sorry, but you need to stop joking about this. It's serious!" She said. "It's really not. No one even knows." She looked to him. "We were clubbing with other drivers, surely one of them were there. Daniel went to turn on his phone, but it was dead. "Must have been to occupied to charge my phone." Daniel joked. "Yeah, getting married." Y/n replied, charging her phone. "I was thinking of starting our honeymoon." He gasped. "Are we going to have a baby Ricciardo?"
"No!" Daniel arched a brow. "Excuse me, but you would be lucky to have a child with my genes." He said, pretending to be hurt. "Yeah, and your humour." She rolled her eyes. "See? Dream team." They sat in silence for a few minutes. She expected a call from her manager at any given second. He was going to kill her. Daniel noticed how tense she was getting and turned to Y/n, holding out his hand. "Well, at least we've got one epic story for the grandkids." Y/n chuckled, taking his hand. "Yep, and a marriage certificate to prove it."
"If our managers don't call us in the next hour, they won't know and I say we go get divorced." Y/n thought about it for a moment. "I mean, if they don't know why bother? The point of us divorcing is so they get off our backs. Plus, it's broad daylight. If people see us going to the Chapel, people will find out." Daniel nodded. "So we're staying married?" Y/n smiled. "Of course. You're like the best husband I could have asked for." Daniel squeezed her hand. "Well, I say we head to the airport and get out of here." Daniel suggested, getting up. "Or we could enjoy our honeymoon with some movies?" He chuckled and sat back down, grabbing the remote control and turning Netflix on. "Sounds good. Can I?" Y/n nodded, allowing Daniel to wrap an arm around her as she leaned into him. "You're coming to Abu Dhabi, though." Daniel said. "Duh. You're going to go to the last race without your wife?"
#f1 blurb#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#f1 oneshots#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x oc#f1 x you#f1 x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x y/n#daniel ricciardo x female reader#daniel ricciardo one shot#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo fluff
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Just a Lousy Racing Driver || Pierre Gasly x Reader
Summary: Pierre shows the reader just how little he cares about her mother’s opinions of him.
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: 18+ unprotected sex, swearing, some badly translated French.
a/n: I have been writing this for weeks on and off because I’ve been strangely busy! Pierre is sort of an entitled rich boy in this, but we can forgive him. I’m not the best at writing smut but I hope you enjoy this regardless.
“My Mum hates you.”
“Good.” Pierre smirked, his hand wandering from your waist to your neck. Your back arched against the wall as you revelled beneath his touch, feeling his warm fingers lightly grip at your skin. He could feel your quickening pulse under his thumb which only encouraged him further. “What else did she say?”
His grip tightened on your neck as his spare hand pushed your hip harder against the wall. You gasped, his fingertips skimming your ear. “What did she say?” He repeated, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered closed momentarily as you struggled to gather your thoughts.
“That you’re a lousy racing driver – “
“And?” He leaned into you, pressing a lingering kiss to the skin just below your jaw.
“You don’t deserve the money you make.”
His laughter vibrated against you, making you squirm and clutch tighter onto his shirt. His mouth latched back onto your neck, kissing and sucking to leave a flurry of little red marks.
“The money I use to take care of her daughter?”
You could hear the smile in his voice as he pushed his knee between yours to separate your legs. You resisted the urge to jump up and wrap them around him, as you chose to savour every second he spent pressed against you, his hands and mouth exploring your body.
If any other man said that to you, you’d probably push him away and give him an earful for being obnoxious, but the terms were different with Pierre. Since your very first date, he’d completely spoiled you, showering you with gifts and surprising you with romantic gestures. He always made sure you had exactly what you wanted, as well as needed, and never let his girl miss out on anything. You weren’t exactly materialistic, but he insisted on pampering you and treating you to anything you desired, so how could you refuse?
Pierre’s pursuit of you wasn’t an easy one. He tried for months to get you to agree to a date, but you were stubborn to say the least. You’d heard of his reputation, and you had to be sure you’d be more than just another escapade before you finally said yes. He tried to charm you with the idea of lavish dates and expensive vacations, but you assured him you couldn’t be bought. You played hard to get which drove him crazy and only made him want you ten times more.
The truth is, Pierre was trouble; trouble you weren’t sure you could handle at first. You had the type of friends and family who’d always guessed your type from a mile away, but Pierre didn’t fit into the norm. He was a cheeky, charismatic F1 driver whose face was all over the media every other weekend. He was the kind of guy who only taught you the bad words in his language, so he could whisper them in your ear before each race and leave your mind reeling for Lord knows how many laps. As your mother had put it, he was bad news.
Pierre’s jeans rubbed against your thigh, the friction burning your skin and making your knees feel as if they could cave in. He released his grip on your neck, only to bury that hand in your hair and tug at the roots. “I suppose, for the sake of your reputation with your family, we shouldn’t be together.” He purred against your cheek, his stubble scratching you and hot breath fanning your ear.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t.” You spoke, finding the confidence to bring your hand up to his hair, pulling his head back so he’d face you. “But, how could you possibly risk losing me?” You leaned forward, ghosting your lips over his. He tried to steal a kiss but you moved back too fast, smiling at him.
“You are such a fucking tease.” Pierre groaned, enjoying the feeling of your fingernails against his scalp. He’d grown accustomed to having your hands in his hair, whether it was during cosy nights on the couch in front of the fire, or humid nights in hotels around the world with his face buried between your thighs. You certainly couldn’t deny your love of the latter.
Pierre overpowered you once again, grabbing the hand from his hair and pinning it above your head. He held it there with his left hand, gripping your wrist and pressing it against the wall. You wriggled beneath him, mostly on purpose to see how he’d react. You liked it when he was rough with you, restraining you and touching you wherever he pleased. Every piece of you belonged to him and you loved being able to satisfy his every need. He responded just how you liked, gripping harder and pushing himself as close to you as possible. You smiled, earning a knowing look from the Frenchman. “What do you want?” He asked, his free hand cupping your cheek softly, a stark contrast to his fingertips digging into your wrist above your head.
“J'ai envie de toi.” I want you. You whispered as he lifted your chin with his thumb, his gaze meeting yours.
“Hm? You have to speak louder, mon amour.”
Pierre liked to tease and make you beg, and you both loved and hated him for it. All you wanted was to throw yourself forward and kiss him, but his firm grip kept you from moving. Even so much as a twitch made him hold on tighter and raise a brow at you as if to question why you were challenging him. He was often in control, but was always focused on your pleasure before his own. The two of you had once spent an entire morning in bed, Pierre giving you a string of orgasms with his mouth and fingers until you physically couldn’t take it anymore. He’d carried you to the bathtub and washed you afterwards, your body feeling limp and admittedly rather sore. He took care of you like you were the most fragile thing on this Earth, and held you as you drifted back to sleep in his arms, still wrapped in your towel.
“J'ai vraiment envie de toi.” I want you so bad. You spoke up, Pierre’s lips hovering over yours. A smirk spread across his face, as he reached down with both hands to grab your hips.
“That’s better.” He turned you around, pressing you against the wall. Your cheek was cold against the wallpaper, but you barely noticed as Pierre’s hands hiked up your dress, leaving it bunched around your waist. “Shall I take my time with you? Or are you ready for me now?” He slipped his right hand between your thighs, two fingers immediately finding your clit through your underwear. Your body jolted forward and you tried to support yourself with your hands on the wall. Pierre let out a chuckle behind you, his left hand smoothing out your hair. “Do you want me, baby?”
“How many times are you going to make me say it?” You whined, desperate for him to touch you more and not just through your clothes. For a moment he considered teasing you a little longer, but he himself could not deal with the anticipation. Soon his jeans were around his ankles, and he palmed at his hard, aching cock through his boxers, his other hand clumsily tugging at your underwear. You reached down to help, but he grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand away.
“Leave them on.” He demanded, looking down at the thin baby blue lace he’d grown to love. You couldn’t remember exactly why they had become his favourites, but you took immense pleasure in wearing them beneath skirts and giving him a sneak peek in places you shouldn’t. You knew exactly how tonight was going to end when you crossed your legs with exaggeration at dinner, parting them just enough so he could catch a glimpse of the blue he loved so much. Pierre had to resist every urge to clear the table right there and bend you over it. He’d enjoyed the mental image of your body pressed against the wooden tabletop, your hair splayed out and sticking to your cheeks as he pounded into you, making the table legs shake as well as yours. He only wished the hotel room had a table just like it so he could act out his fantasy.
Pierre leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Leave them on whilst I fuck you.” He whispered, pushing them to the side so he could get a better look at you. Your skin was flushed and slick with arousal, the sight making his cock twitch impatiently. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He said in awe, his middle finger teasing your wet cunt. His touch was needy, but still gentle. Your moans bounced off of the wall, echoing around the room and bringing music to Pierre’s ears. He loved the sound of you, whimpering and moaning for him to touch you, to claim you, to fuck you so hard you saw stars.
Pushing his underwear down, you felt his cock spring free and press against your ass. You whimpered, grinding your hips backwards to get more friction and to give your boyfriend a bit of a show. He looked down, his breath caught in his throat as he watched your hips draw circles against him. He loved that you weren’t shy, and you enjoyed this just as much as he did.
“This is what you want, hm?” He asked, wrapping his hand around his cock and pressing against you harder. You nodded, arching your back forward to encourage him.
“Don’t make me wait any longer.” You purred, reaching behind and ghosting your fingers over his shaft. Pierre’s eyes fluttered closed, the soft touch sending a cold rush throughout his entire body. He did as you asked, grabbing both your hands and pushing them firmly against the wall so he could get you into the perfect position. An excitable giggle escaped you, and he smiled as he dug his fingers into your hips and teased your eager pussy with the head of his cock.
He couldn’t wait a moment longer as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, his size stretching you out and filling you up. Your hands slipped down the wall, but he was quick to reach forward and grab you. Pierre linked his fingers with yours, carefully thrusting into you as you got used to the feeling. You closed your eyes and hummed in pleasure, the two of you making the same sound in unison. “You feel incredible.” He whispered, kissing your hair. You loved the mixture of rough versus gentle Pierre. It was no secret that the man knew how to fuck and have you screaming his name, but he also knew how to caress you, talk you through it, and make sure you were comfortable throughout. His soft kisses and careful words made your heart sing, and you swore you couldn’t love him more if you tried, yet you were proven wrong every day.
He kissed you again, a moan disappearing into your hair as he bottomed out inside of you. You gasped, feeling his hot skin against your ass before he drew back to then push straight back into you again. His hands latched back onto your hips, pulling you onto his cock as his movements grew faster. He looked down to watch, to see you wrapped around him so tightly, leaving his cock wet and glistening. You didn’t even have to see him to know he was enjoying the view, his fingertips digging harder into your skin as he grunted with every buck of his hips.
Pressing your hands firmly against the wall, you drove yourself up to stand straighter, reaching back to wrap your arm around his neck. His mouth immediately connected with the skin behind your ear, gentle kisses contrasting with the passionate, deep thrusts that had your heart racing and sweat pooling between your thighs. You gripped onto the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly to encourage him. “Are you trying to be rough with me, baby?” He teased, his tone mocking yet in the sexiest way. “Because I can be rough if you want me to.”
Pulling away, you turned around to face him. Your faces were both flushed with desire for one another, and Pierre’s white shirt was slick with sweat. You started working on the buttons, your fingers trembling as you were well aware of him gazing down at you. He watched your hands, those dainty manicured fingers undressing him like they had hundreds of times before. He’d never get tired of surrendering to you and your touch, feeling your fingertips brush against his chest as you made your way down button by button. Since the very first time you’d offered to unbutton his shirt, he’d come to prefer it. To him, there was nothing sexier than watching you take your time with him, exposing as much of him as you wanted and studying his body with those pretty eyes of yours. He loved belonging to you, just as much as you loved belonging to him.
Finishing with the last button, you grabbed both sides of the shirt and pulled Pierre closer, standing on your tiptoes to reach his face. “Show me what you can do.” You whispered, earning a groan from your partner as he pulled off his shirt and guided the two of you towards the bed. As you walked backwards, you unzipped your dress and left it on the ground, and Pierre shook off the pants that were still wrapped around his ankles.
The backs of your legs hit the bed frame and you tumbled back, head landing on the mattress. Pierre grabbed your legs, hoisting them onto the bed in front of him, finally slipping the blue lace off of you. The sight of you with your legs spread and gaze fixed upon him drove him crazy, and he found it almost impossible to decide what to do with you first. Climbing onto the bed, he wasted no time plunging inside of you once more, making you gasp and your body twinge at the delicious pain of your pussy stretching around him. You wrapped your legs around him, using your feet to pull him closer and feel more of him. Pierre moaned, gripping your ankles and placing them on his shoulders.
He gave you a look as if to ask for permission and you nodded quickly, linking your ankles behind his head. He rolled his hips forward, his cock hitting you at a deeper angle. You tried to stay focused on his face, but you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your eyes shut as his thrusts quickened. Each of your staggered breaths overlapped one another as Pierre leaned down to connect his lips with yours. You opened your mouth for him, his tongue hot and desperate against yours as the sounds of your skin slapping together grew louder. With both hands on either side of your head, Pierre hovered over you, his thrusts slowing but growing more aggressive, the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside of you every time. Your hands roamed his body as well as your own, every slither of skin scorching hot to the touch. He watched as your right hand edged towards the bottom of your stomach, fingertips toying with the idea of exploring further.
Lifting your hand to his mouth, he sucked on your middle and forefinger, running his tongue along the front of them. He released them with a quiet popping sound, and you admired how his saliva moistened your fingers. “Touch yourself, baby.” He coaxed, his hands returning to their former position. You followed his order as he dropped your legs back down to his sides so you could spread them more. You slipped your fingers between your folds, your body twitching at the first touch of your clit. You were sensitive, swollen, desperate for friction. Drawing circles, you moaned loudly as Pierre attempted to match your rhythm.
You threw your head back, eyes gazing at the ceiling as he continued to pound into you, his lower stomach clashing with the back of your hand. “That’s it, Y/N. Keep going.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your knee. You couldn’t find the words to tell him how good it felt, but he already knew. He could tell by the way your cunt clenched around him. It was almost like he could feel your pulse beating against his cock.
“Pierre, I - “ You stammered, forcing your head forward to look at him. He could see it in your eyes, how close you were. Your fingers moved quicker as his thrusts grew shallow, while remaining the same speed.
“Keep those eyes on me. I want to see you when you come.”
You used to feel nervous having Pierre staring down at you as you touched yourself. Something about it made you feel more exposed than anything else, and you’d often close your eyes or look down at your own hand to distract yourself. But that didn’t bother you now. You fixed your gaze on him, rarely blinking as you rubbed your clit quicker, applying more pressure with your fingertips, growing closer and closer. His name exploded from your mouth as you came, legs shaking and toes driving into the sheets below. Once your hand was out of the way, Pierre leaned down, his chest pressing against yours as he kissed every inch of your face and neck. With one hand cupping your face, and the other gripping your hip, he buried himself inside you and groaned as he came, his entire body stiffening then collapsing on top of you.
He pulled out and moved to the side so you could go clean up if you wanted, but you stayed put. A warmth dripped out of you and down your inner thigh, and you smiled at the feeling. Silently, with nothing but the sounds of your breathing in the room, you took Pierre’s hand and pressed it between your legs, letting him feel his own cum spill out of you. He made a sound that confirmed his agreement, that he thought it was just as hot as you did. The two of you laid there as you caught your breath, before turning to face each other. His face was flushed and pupils dilated, and you were pretty sure you probably looked the same.
“Je t’aime. No matter what.” Pierre whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you too. No matter what.”
“Even if your Mum hates me?” He raised his brows, making you giggle.
“Oh especially if my Mum hates you.”
#f1 x reader#f1 fics#f1 oneshots#formula one fics#pierre gasly x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x reader
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Be Brave
Oscar Piastri x reader
Masterlist
Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: none
a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!
In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.
The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.
You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.
Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.
Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.
The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.
“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.
“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”
You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”
Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”
“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.
You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.
“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”
“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”
“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”
Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.
“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”
He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”
Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.
“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”
You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.
“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”
You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.
“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”
He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.
“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.
He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.
“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.
“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.
He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.
“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”
Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”
Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.
“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.
“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.
“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.
With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.
You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”
The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.
“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.
“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”
“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”
He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.
Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.
“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.
“Never,” Lando lies.
“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.
“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”
Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.
Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.
“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”
Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”
The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.
“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.
Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”
“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.
“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.
The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.
“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”
A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.
You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”
“We were happy to,” Oscar says.
“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.
“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.
You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.
“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.
You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.
It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.
Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.
And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.
“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“
You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.
“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”
Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”
You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.
You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.
The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-
Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.
“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”
You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.
“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”
Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.
“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”
“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”
You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.
“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”
Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”
“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”
Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.
“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.
“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”
Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.
The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.
Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.
“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.
He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”
“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”
Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”
You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”
He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”
You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”
He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.
“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”
Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”
You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.
“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”
Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”
“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”
He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.
He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.
“Who?” His dad asks.
“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.
“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”
His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”
Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.
On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.
“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”
You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”
He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.
“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”
You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”
She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”
You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”
You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.
“Got a secret admirer?”
You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.
Hi,
I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,
Oscar
His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.
“Just a friend,” you lie.
“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”
“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”
She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”
You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.
The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.
“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.
“And what’s that?” You ask.
“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”
“Papaya,” you correct softly.
“Huh?”
“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”
You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.
“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.
“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.
She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”
“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”
“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”
“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”
“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”
You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.
…..
It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.
You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.
You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.
The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.
You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.
He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”
You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.
His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.
He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”
You smile. “Me too.”
“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”
You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.
“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”
He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”
You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.
“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”
“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.
He blushes. “Shut up.”
It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.
You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”
“Cool,” Oscar says.
“Cool,” you agree.
Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.
…..
Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.
“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.
You laugh. “Did you?”
He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”
You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.
When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.
Okay, maybe it is.
a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!
taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan
#Oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri oneshot#oscar piastri fanfic#Oscar piastri fluff#formula one fluff#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula one x reader#formual one oneshot#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#honeywrites#op81
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request for max, if possible: you live together and your male best friend stays for like 2 days and max gets real jealous, becuase you have inside jokes and so if you‘re up to it, maybe ending in smut, but you ofc don‘t have to 😚
Got it through
Pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader
Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), PDA, probably has lots of mistakes.
a/n: i hope you enjoy this and i’m sorry for how long it took for me to write it. PS: my laptop deleted the proofread version but i wanted to post it still so i will proofread it again tomorrow…
When you first broke the news to Max that an old friend of yours was gonna visit the two of you over the weekend, he was excited as he always was whenever he got to meet any of the people close to you. He went grocery shopping with you and was quite helpful in helping you prepare the guest bedroom for your visitor.
One detail that you had spared him was the fact that the person visiting was your best friend, your guy best friend, so when he offered to pick him up at the airport while you finished up cooking the food you two had started preparing, you bit back a smile and agreed, giving Max a nod and a quick kiss before rushing back to the stove when a burning smell had started originating.
With that, Max disappeared out the door, keys jiggling in his hand as he got going. Meanwhile, the smile on your face was quite prominent as you envisioned Max's reaction when he would come face to face with Marc.
There was two possible outcomes to this: hell would break loose or you would get a good laugh out of it.
A while later, your phone pinged, notifying you of a message that came through. You rushed to it, wiping your hands against the apron tied around your waist before picking up the device and reading the notification.
Max: It's a he?!
You could've told me
And just like that, the most interesting days you've had in a while began.
An hour passed before they arrived home, Max trailing behind Marc with a frown on his face, watching very closely as your friend wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug that, much to your boyfriend's distaste, you returned with just as much affection. Then, as Marc followed you to the kitchen, kindly offering to lend you a hand as you sliced a loaf of bread, Max followed in his footsteps, eyeing him up and down with his fisted hands tucked in his pockets, a funny scowl never leaving his face.
"I think you should shower, mate." He said out of the blue, taking you by utter surprise while tapping Marc's shoulders with a tight-lipped smile, "Don't misunderstand me. I don't think you're dirty or smelly." He gave him a once over, "It's just what we do after being at the airport, kind of a law around our house."
Your brows furrowed as you watched Max come up with a rule on the spot, all while Marc looked immensely taken back, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, looking intimidated by your boyfriend. You could swear you saw a glimpse of fear in his eyes.
Max followed his gaze to you and you could practically see him trying not to roll his eyes.
"Come on. I will show you to the guest room and bathroom." He practically guiding Marc away from the kitchen and you had to bite back a laugh that was begging to push past your lips.
You could hear the commotion of what seemed to be Marc being clueless to how the shower works and Max explaining that to him and it went on for several minutes before you felt Max's hands plant themselves on your hips as he turned your around to face him.
"Marc, huh?" He asked, half seriously. However, despite his apparent question, he didn't give you time to answer. His lips met yours possessively in a messy kiss. It barely took seconds until his tongue was meeting yours halfway, his teeth occasionally pulling and nibbling on your lips as he trailed his hands down to your ass, squeezing it in a surprising manner that made you let out a small moan.
He took the opportunity and used the small moment of uncertainty on your part to push you up onto the counter, his body pushing your legs apart until he was stood between them, his hands kneading the inside of your thighs and holding them apart while he continued claiming your lips aggressively.
A straggled breath got stuck in your throat when his hand cupped your pussy, one finger pushing harder than the rest, applying perfect pressure onto your clothed clit.
"Max..." You gasped, you hand latching onto his hair as you head fell back and his kisses traveled down onto your neck.
"Fucking love hearing you like this, you know?" He breathlessly said.
"I know, but you have to stop. Marc might..." He didn't care for what you were saying. His slipped his hand into your pants and panties and applied teasing pressure onto your pulsating entrance, leaving you to subconsciously grind against his fingers, your body now with a mind of its own, asking him for more.
He responded with just what you needed, his thumb played and rubbed your clit as he pushed to fingers into your warm and wet pussy, your walls immediately clenching around his digits and your body arching towards him.
"Fuck." You whined and moved your hips in accordance to his fingers' thrusts, already chasing a high, a thought in the very back of your mind convincing you that you would get to come before Marc came back.
Max was desperate to prove you wrong and leave you flustered in front of your friend, therefore he kept his movements slow until the sound of the guest bathroom's lock echoed from a distance. He pulled away from you and sucked your wetness off his fingers, as you watched him breathlessly, somewhat pissed.
"Marc, my man!" He welcomed your friend back in the room, "I already can feel it, these two days are gonna be so fun!" Max's fake cheer filled the room, his cheesy smile looking very obviously fake to you as he took a seat on a chair, one leg crossed over the other with pure confidence.
The rest of the day went on fine until dinner came around and the three of you took seats around the dining table.
"So..." Max started as he ate, "How long have you known my girlfriend?" He looked at Marc, directing the question to him.
"We were like... 14 when we met. We've been friends for a while." Marc smiled at you and you smiled back before taking a much needed sip of your drink.
"Ah, 14. Right at the beginning of teenage years and shit, right?"
"Yeah!" Marc excitedly agreed, "We had so many teen adventures together. The first time we got drunk, we were together!"
Max's brow's rose in fake pleasantry as he gave you a weird smile, "You were quite naughty kids, you two!"
"Max, what?" You masked your annoyance with a giggle and started a mental countdown until this dinner was over, but it went on for way longer that it should've as Max dragged out the conversation with a fake cheer you'd never seen him have but when Marc excused himself and retreated to him room, and after cleaning everything quickly, Max practically carried you to your room, pushing you onto the bed and immediately climbing on top of you, kissing you as he slipped his hand into your shirt, yanked down the cups of your bra and pinched a nipple, making you moan into his mouth, your mind still not comprehending the quick pace Max was setting.
Within a few minutes, your clothes were scattered on the floor and he was lodged between your thighs, his tongue working its way between your folds, toying with your clit like he wanted to do that for a while. Your back was almost always arched off the bed, your eyes screwed shut as you turned into a moaning mess, the only sounds leaving your mouth besides that being begs for more.
"Max, please. Please, more." You whined, pulling on his hair as you firmly held you down on the mattress.
"Be specific, baby." He teased, swiping his tongue slowly up and down, teasing your entrance then sucking on your clit again, leaving you breathless.
"Your fingers, please."
"What about them?" He acted clueless.
"Max, i want you to fuck me with your fingers, i want them inside me." You sternly said, having had enough of his shit.
He smirked at your demanding tone, held your legs apart and pushed in two fingers that were quick to disappear into your soaking wet pussy.
A loud moan left your mouth and you immediately got lost in the pleasure he was giving you, the feeling bubbling inside you almost euphoric that the moans just kept coming, some of them riskily high in volume.
Your eyes screwed tight-shut and your head dug back into the mattress as your hands clamped over your mouth to muffle the sounds that you had practically lost control over. Just in time, Max glanced up at you and instantly disliked what you were doing.
"Let me hear you, babe." He sternly instructed.
"Max, Marc could hear." You pushed the words past your heavy breaths and locked eyes with him in warning.
"I swear to fucking God, I'll stop all this and leave you whining and begging." He spoke with determination and you could almost see his anger bubbling, "Take your hands off your mouth."
Just like that, your hands were back clutching onto the sheets as Max's fingers continued being thrusted into your contracting pussy, giving you an orgasm that left you writhing on the bed, breathing heavily as you struggled to regain your composure since your boyfriend's tongue was immediately lapping at your clit after that first release, eager to bring you to another, more powerful one, the only thought on his mind being making this night as uncomfortable as possible for Marc.
He moved his tongue up and down your slit, then teased your entrance with it, pushing it into your pussy a little more every time until your hands dug through his hair and you forced him into a consistent movement. Max also didn't hesitate to put his fingers to use, toying and playing slowly with your clit as if he was doing it for his own enjoyment.
"Fuck, i'm gonna cum again." You whimpered and Max had to resist the urge to smirk immediately. Instead, he guided you through your orgasm, taking ultimate pleasure in the pornographic moans leaving your mouth as your body trashed beneath him.
"That's it, let go." He reassured and he moved a hand up to pinch your erect nipple. The pleasure exploded in the pit of your stomach and your back arched off the bed as you released once again.
Max shifted his gaze toward you with a hidden smirk on his face and judging only by his expression and the glimmer in his eyes, you knew this would be a long night, one that would only go up from here, and as the hours rolled, you figured out you were right.
Several other orgasms later and after various different positions Max had you in, you found yourself exhausted, face down on the bed, your hands desperately gripping onto the pillows in front of you while your moans turned to whimpers as Max pushed into you repeatedly and at a perfect pace, feeling you clench onto his cock every time he hit your sensitive spot with a steady pace until you came again and he released inside you with a loud, straggled moan before he collapsed beside you on the mattress.
"Fuck." You exhaled as you relaxed your body and turned to face your panting boyfriend, the look on your face lazy and worn out. You just laid there in your post orgasm calm, blinking slowly and catching your breath until Max pulled you closer and wrapped his arm around you, giving your forehead a kiss and combing his fingers through your tangled hair.
"What was all that about?" You chuckled and held tighter onto him.
His eyes closed as he let out a small laugh, replacing an actual answer with three simple words, "I love you."
"I love you too, Max." You pushed yourself up and kissed his lips then proceeded to sit up, "I need a shower, i'll be back in a little." You explained to him and left the bed in search of your towels and bath essentials then rushed to the bathroom connected to the bedroom.
Just as you were closing the door, Max's head poked through, a silly smile on his face.
"I'm joining, babe."
The next morning, as you woke up in Max's arm, the fact that your friend was visiting seemed to be completely off your mind but as you fiddled around the room, grabbing something to wear, it washed over you that Marc could've heard at least part of last night's shenanigans. How could he not when the aftermath, even hours later, was shaky legs?
You pulled some comfortable clothes on and jumped back into the bed, shaking Max awake.
"Max, wake up." You patted his bare back in urgency, "Max! C'mon."
"Good morning to you too." He groaned into his pillow, burying himself further under the sheets.
"Max, what if Marc heard us?" You gave in and laid on his back, asking the question right into his ear.
With his eyes still shut, he laughed at that. The fucker laughed and suddenly you understood why he insisted you don't muffle the sounds yesterday.
"Oh my fucking god, you did not!" You swatted his shoulder, "How am i supposed to look him in the eye now?" Just like that, you were back on your feet.
"I don't care. For all i know, i would have gotten it through, that he has no chance with you." He boasted and he turned onto his back, "Plus, i was enjoying your sounds too much for you to hold them back for that guy's comfort. This is our place after all."
Your thoughts started racing and for a minute, deep down, you had to admit that the situation was amusing in some twisted way, even more to you than it was to Max but you let that go for now. It was gonna be embarrassing nonetheless to spend the day with Marc now. Deep down you still had hope you would get away with this, that he didn't hear a single thing. Maybe he was the kind of people that slept with earbuds in or something of that sort.
Clinging onto that hope, you emerged out of the room and made your way to the kitchen, needing a cup of coffee. Thankfully, the kitchen was still empty and quiet, warm with soft sunshine peaking through the window.
As soon as the coffee machine was on, you peaked your head into the hallway, checking for any traces that Marc might've woken up, but his bedroom door was still shut and no sounds were heard from him.
Taking a seat by the kitchen table, you pulled out your phone to keep yourself occupied, scrolling through your social media pages and the various posts on there until Max, now dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, joined you in the kitchen with a stupid grin on his face.
The minutes passed and before you knew it, you heard Marc's door unlock, the sound quickly being followed by the one of his footsteps in the hallway.
"Max, don't make him uncomfortable, okay?" You warned your boyfriend in a rushed whisper and received a smirk from him just as Marc walked in.
"Uhh," he stared weirdly at the difference between your expression and Max's, "hello- Good morning, i mean." Marc scratched the back of his head in discomfort.
"Good morning, mate!" Max cheerily said, leaving his chair and walking toward your friend, "You slept well?" He patted his shoulder in a bit of a too rough greeting.
You flashed him a glare immediately but it went unnoticed.
"Yeah, i slept okay." Marc took a few steps away from Max's towering figure. It really wasn't helping, the fact that Max was quite taller than him.
"Marc, do you still take your coffee black?" You left your mug on the table and got up to serve your guest.
"Black is fine." He replied shortly with a tight lipped smile so you poured him a cup and the three of you sat in the kitchen for a while.
It was safe to say that breakfast was the most uncomfortable of your life. Max's hand was firm on your thigh every time you sat and every time you got up, he found an excuse to then allowed his hands to wander either to your waist or shoulders. He was being touchier than he has ever been and Marc was obviously noticing the clinginess, his body language portraying easily how uncomfortable he felt, especially since Max wasn't sparing him of the quick smirks and challenging eyes he repeatedly shot his way.
Luckily, Marc had a few things to do around the city throughout the day so he left the apartment shortly after breakfast, leaving you and Max alone to lounge around, the laziness only interrupted for an hour when Max decided to work out and you decided yo watch him, what mildly turned you on, leading to a bit of making out on the living room couch, only to be startled by the doorbell just as it started getting heated.
"Fucking hell..." Max groaned into your mouth and sat up, reaching for a cushion to hide his boner as you fixed your shirt and got up to open the door.
Obviously, Marc was stood there, smiling with takeout containers in his hands, his smile turning awkward when he took notice of your messy hair, plump lips and Max's weird sitting position.
"I brought lunch, i guess." He treaded in carefully.
"Thank you, Marc! You really didn't have to." You thanked as you walked behind him, attempting to fix your hair with your hands.
"Oh, it's nothing!" He reassured.
Minutes later, the three of you were gathered around the dining table, eating and chatting, the latter only being done occasionally to break the silence.
"Thanks for the food, mate." Max, the first to finish eating thanked and got up, "I think I'm gonna take a nap. I slept awful last night." He excused himself and left the room.
You quickly took notice of Marc’s blushing face.
Silence reigned until it could be heard that Max was in the room with the door closed. That’s when Marc started talking again.
“Girl, i though you were getting murdered last night! He can’t be that good, right?”
“Shit, i’m so so sorry. We just got a bit carried away. I think he sees you as a competition and wants to prove a point.” You rubbed at your forehead in embarrassment.
“Wait…” Marc dragged the word on, “You didn’t tell him?”
“No! I didn’t know if you wanted me to! You’re not out to many people yet and i didn’t want to cross any boundaries.” You explained yourself and watched Marc burst out laughing.
“Oh my god.” He wheezed, “This is fucking hilarious! And i was out here thinking why the fuck he was almost groping you.” He leaned back in his chair, holding his stomach as he laughed.
“Oh, shut up!” You pouted away a smile, “You want me to tell him? That’s okay with you?”
“Yeah, that’s okay! But this is funny, honestly. Wait until i leave and tell him.”
And just like that you had a deal.
Over the next two days that Marc was staying for, Max got more and more possessive but that was only because your friend was also going out of his way to act extra affectionate towards you, for example ruffling your hair as he passed by you, or putting on your favorite songs while he helped you cook.
Then, Marc would be struggling to contain his laughter when after those acts, Max would pull you onto his lap while watching movies in the evening and kiss you for a bit too long when he left for the bathroom.
The day Marc left, as he was saying his goodbyes and thank yous, he whispered quickly in your ear to let him know how Max reacts and right them and there, you almost lost it and burst out in laughter but you bit your tongue and pushed the urge away, watched the firm handshake Max was giving Marc with a glare and a smirk on his face.
When he shut the door and turned towards you, he was quick to complain again.
“Even his name is fucking similar to mine.” He huffed and started walking back to the living room.
Smiling, you trailed after him slowly.
“Max…” you started, dragging his name on.
“What’s with the tone?” He sat on the couch and gestured for you to join him.
Taking a seat by him, you spoke: “I need to tell you something.”
With an anxious look now on his face, he told you to continue.
“Marc is gay.” You giggled and watched his expression change into disbelief.
“No.” He said in surprise.
“Yes, babe.” You burst out laughing.
“That’s not funny. You should’ve told me.” He pouted.
You moved onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Oh, c’mon. It’s kinda funny.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is.” You kissed his pouting lips, laughing a bit into the kiss.
“It kinda is. And i like it when you’re jealous.” You reassured between pecks.
“You do?” He smiled slightly.
“I do.”
“I can still be jealous, you know?”
You tried arguing that there was no excuse for him to be now but as he carried you to the bedroom, he insisted that he could still act as if he was, a suggestion you agreed on quickly, feeling him start to kiss your neck.
“It’s kinda funny though, right?” You tried again as he pushed the bedroom door open then laid you down on the bed.
“It’s not.” He kissed you deeply, biting on your lip, “and i suggest you stop saying it is so you don’t make our next activities” he smirked, “harder for yourself.”
Laughing, you nodded and relaxed into the kiss, knowing that the past few days were something you’d remember forever and that Max would start to find the humor in their happenings soon enough.
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