#Formula 1 RPF

[zolica-ao3]

How’s the pirate fic going? 👀

Aw yeah, so well! I'm having way too much fun. It's been less than two weeks and I've written over 14k words already. Do you want a sneak peek? Of course you do!

---

“Hey. I’m talking to you.” He is frozen in place. His heart beats so loud he thinks he can hear it.

“Come on mate.”

Oscar flinches when a large hand grabs his chin. Strong fingers tilt his face upwards.

The Lieutenant finds himself staring at Captain Lando Norris for the first, and probably last time, of his life.

The Captain’s eyes are the type of green the sea can be when the ship is about to hit a reef. Wild dark brown curls peek out from under his hat, while the hair on the sides of his head is cut short.

He looks way younger than Oscar imagined him to be. He has to be in his twenties. They might even be around the same age.

He watches as the Captain’s eyes roam his face. He can see the moment the recognition hits.

An amazed smile forms on the young Captain’s face. “No. Fucking. Way.”

He’s dead. Cold sweat breaks out over Oscar’s back as the Captain moves his head from side to side.

“I’ve seen your face on so many posters…” Captain Norris mumbles.

He tilts his head in interest. “Oscar Piastri. Devil of the South. Ruthless pirate hunter who kills with a stone-cold face.” The hand on Oscar’s arm squeezes even harder. “I fucking knew it…” the blond guy holding him says, but the Lieutenant barely hears it, too focused on the mad smile in front of him.

“They say he will have his sword stabbed through your chest before you even realize it’s him.” The Captain lets go off his face, crouching down in front of him. “I’m surprised you’re alive, Max,” the man says as he rakes his eyes over the sword master’s body.

---

Navy Lieutenant and pirate hunter Oscar Piastri gets captured by the infamous pirate Captain Lando Norris and his crew. Instead of killing him, the Captain keeps him around.

Oscar has a hard time figuring out his feelings thoughts. Especially because the terrifying Captain keeps being nice to him?

[landomeowrris]

lead me out on the moonlit floor

⊱ pairing: carlando

⊱ wc: 2.9k

⊱ rating: teen & up

Lando didn't realize he had stopped to stare at a patch of flowers, and he huffed out an unamused laugh at the flower his brain had chosen to fixate on. Red carnations. Lando vaguely remembered the symbolism, his heartbeat speeding up at the thought. Red carnations meant love and affection. Desire and passion. More than that, red carnations were the traditional Spanish flowers. What a choice.

“Was the liveliness too much for you?” A deep voice teased behind him, the words laced with the Spanish accent he so desperately craved. His blood ran hot, spreading across his cheeks with so much ease it scared him. That was the effect Carlos had on Lando, ever since their first meeting, when Lando was 19 and following Carlos like a puppy under the pretense of being a good teammate.

[neptunescore]

I've had this paragraph in one of my wips for months. Tells you a lot abt Red Bull, doesn't it?

What the fuck. Checo was retiring. What the fuck. What the fuck. They had called her. Her. Not Yuki. Never Yuki — not when his eyes slanted differently to theirs, not when his skin was a shade off, No, they’d never pick fucking Yuki. It’d be funny; the fact that her tongue stumbled over this foreign language the same way his did, the fact that her skin was a whole colour different than theirs, her hair thicker, her eyes rounder, her gender different, and yet — she is the better option.

A bitterness rushes through her, so this is how it was going to start?

No. No, she’d topped him in results for two seasons straight now. She refuses to feel unworthy. She refuses to feel guilty for something out of her control.

Trembling fingers pick up the phone. A scroll through her contacts before she lands on ‘j’.

[kolbalissh]

soft sleepy mornings, intertwined hands and the warmth of your cheek

[bunny-jpeg]

lust is a loaded hand gun

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, ferrari!reader, baby fever, seduction, cowgirl position, alcohol/drinking, breeding, the reader wants to have a baby and chooses to have it with max, max is not aware

this bunny runs on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

part 2: love is a kick to the stomach

this sounded stupid. but you wanted a baby. and while that was an easy task for most women, you knew that there was something impersonal about picking from a catalogue. reading profiles felt weird, like you were looking for a used car rather than the biological other half of your child. even if you'd raise them without a father, you'd rather have a night of passion than an awkward doctor's visit.

charles leaned back in his seat and asked, "why don't you and i just make one." he shrugged his shoulders. he considered himself close to you. you had been teammates for a little over two seasons and prior to that you knew each other. he didn't mind being the one to help you bring a child into the world, "i can be his uncle and he'd never know."

but, as close as you were to your teammate. you had other drivers in mind.

you made a face, "no offense, charles. but it would feel like doing it with my brother." being teammates meant you two knew too much about one another. you worked well as teammates and rivals because you were more like siblings. while you appreciated the offer, you felt it was weird.

charles asked, relaxed in his seat, "why are you doing this anyway? isn't there a million ways for you to have a child."

you shrugged, "i want to be a mom, i don't know. leave my seat behind to another woman and let her make all the history. i'm honestly tired. i've reached the peak and now." you sighed, "i want something else. i've got enough money to retire and let my future child retire before they're born." you crossed your arms, "i don't want to be doing this shit until i'm forty and just degrade in the skills department. end on a high note." while it was not an insult to other driver's on the grid. you felt bad that they never got to really be parents due to the schedules.

"so you need to seduce a driver to make that happen."

you nodded, out of the corner of your eye you spotted the driver you had your eye on. while you eyed the man crossing your path, your voice got softer, "and i think i know just the driver."

charles looked over to the direction you were looking at. he noticed who was walking by and he looked back to you, shoulders dropped, "max. you're going to seduce and have a child with max?"

you looked back to charles and shrugged, "why not? what's not to like?" max wasn't a perfect man, sometimes you wondered about the mechanics of his brain. but, you knew your child with him would lay waste to the track in the future.

"i can name a few. do you want them alphabetically or severity of it?" charles asked.

you gave him a look, "it wouldn't be hard to get him to sleep with me. you, me and the rest of the garage has seen how he looks at me. i mean who else do i have to choose from? either they're too old, they're rookies, or they have girlfriends. and i'm not getting a heel in the eye because i'm trying to have a baby."

charles rubbed the bridge of his nose, "i think you just like him."

you tensed up for a moment, "no. this is all just simple. scheming... nothing more. i don't expect to trap him with a child. he is free to live his life after i'm done with him."

charles found it hard to believe. not on your end, but max's. he had heard at sickeningly lengths about how max felt for you. it was probably the most eloquent the driver had ever been. if you got pregnant by him, he'd be getting a ring the next day. he sighed once more, "then have fun with the wold champion. i'd say to be safe, but i think being unsafe is the whole point of this."

you gave the once over of max in the near distance and smiled, "don't worry charles, you'll get all the details in the morning." which earned a groan from your teammate.

-

it started over a bottle of wine and ended in the motor home of red bull. you and max had gotten frisky over the evening. you wondered if anyone was selling the photos of you two in the back of the restaurant to tmz or some other trashy outlet. you had shared two bottles of wine over dinner. the benefit of being as wealthy as you were, you could throw the cash onto the table and giggle as you stumble out of your place.

you knew someone had a photo of max kissing you at the table to 'taste' the sauce that came with your meal. as if he couldn't take some from the plate.

but back in the motor home, you had dropped your purse by the door. in the dark of the place, you two were starting to get undressed. heels kicked to the wall, your bracelets set on the coffee table. your dress was on the floor by the bed, your bra over the lamp by the bed and your panties on the bed.

"i'm on top." you said as you kissed max's lips. he tasted like wine and fine dining. he tasted and smelled expensive. in all fairness he could be worth more than a micro nation. he was not an easy man to buy, but the currency of sex was in high demand. max wanted you, and you knew that because he got on his back without much argument.

you were both naked on the bed. the faint lights gleamed through the large windows as you rubbed up against max with no other lighting. you could see his face against the shadows of the night. his blue eyes were like gems and they pulled you in. whoever he ended up with would be very lucky.

but tonight you needed him. he was an important piece in your plan. you rubbed against him and with a little help, you sank down onto his cock. while cowgirl wasn't the best position to try and get pregnant, but it ensured that your plan would work. any position is a working one.

"you're beautiful."

"i know." you said as you rubbed yourself against him. you braced your hands on his strong chest. he was a handsome man, he was good at what he did and he was a winner. you knew anyone would be lucky to have him, but tonight was the perfect partner. you knew a child with him would be perfect.

you continued to rub up against him. the roll of your hips were methodical. this wasn't the first time you slept with a man. you moaned when max groped your breasts, massaged the flesh between those bear paws he called hands. soon you sank on his cock and shuddered, feeling the heat raise in your belly.

this was a mission, no time to get attached. you were both tipsy from the alcohol and the driver under you were more handsy than ever. you try not to feel the emotions that came with it. the feeling of being attached to someone you were having sex with. you batted charles' assumptions about your feelings for max out of your mind as you rode the dutch driver.

you were determined to get pregnant tonight. you measured it all down to a t, all you needed was for max not to get whiskey dick. you curved your back to get closer to him, your lips met his as you moved up and down. his cock was snug in your, but it went in almost perfect. the blunt head hit against the furthest parts of you. your heart hammered in your chest as you moved your hips.

you pushed hair out of your face before your braced your hands on his chest once more. he was very toned, you almost wanted to joke about what happened to his slightly kinder chocolate addiction. but that was neither here nor there.

"you feel so good." he grunted, "why haven't we done this before? fuck." he panted, he could feel the heat in his cheeks as you rode him. he had been with others before but being under you was a pleasure no money could buy. you were really good at it, knowing exactly how to make him feel good.

"good things take time." you panted, part of you wondered what would happen if you covered his mouth. you didn't need the dirty talk, this was a mission. if you wanted a casual friends with benefits, you'd try something online or another in the paddock. fucking max was a certainly that you'd get pregnant. it didn't have to be intimate or soft. it was a means to an end, and you'd get there no matter what.

the sounds of your fucking filled the room as you continued to move against him. you raked your nails down his chest, catching his nipples which made him moan. he was cute on his back, letting you take over. you wondered how deep his affection for you went.

you didn't want the emotional baggage of it all. tonight you were both drunk and having sex in the motor homes. it would be a one night stand before you two finished out the season. you could feel the heat across your back as you stared at him.

his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open as he panted heavily. there was heat in his face and you felt something tug in your chest. he was beautiful, you hated to admit it. but max verstappen was a pretty boy.

he was already blissed out, his noises forced you by the movement of your hips. you licked your lips and without thinking, you left a mark on his collarbone. it was stupid, but it excited your further.

you continued to move against him. your breasts bounced with each move of your hips. you felt moans in the back of your throat and a hum in your soul. pleasure was close and it wasn't long before you really worked yourself onto his cock and finished.

the tightness around his cock made max's back arch a little bit. he could feel the heat in the back of his head. his heart pounded as he watched you continue to ride his cock. he panted heavily and soon climaxed as well. you made sure to get everything you could out. you kissed him once more before you stopped. when you pulled away you got off of his waist and laid down on the bed.

"wow." he said out of breath.

you didn't want to talk. instead you turned your head to kiss him on the lips to keep him quiet. there was no time for mushy romantic bedroom talk. you needed him to fall asleep before you could leave.

you tried to count down the seconds, placing kisses across his heated face. you reminded yourself that there would be some lucky enough to keep him for life.

when you pulled away from his lips after one last kiss, he curled up beside you and right then fell asleep. you stayed awake, when the heat cooled in your body. you hoped your mission was a success. the lust and the alcohol still made its rounds in your body. but you were lucid enough to find your clothes in the dark and slip out of the motor home before morning.

you'd never bring up the event to max, only briefly mentioning it to charles. you'd drive harder after that, in the end you'd secure a world championship. as you kissed the trophy and your country's national anthem played, you were already pregnant with your child.

-

your retirement was a shock to max. you could've easily decorated your home with many trophies over the next few years. but at the end of the 2024 season, you bowed out. you thanked fans and told them that it was a new chapter in your life. and then like that you fell off the face of the earth over the off-season.

max tried to find ways to contact you. where did you go? what happened? why leave at the height of it all? the more he thought about it, the more questions were raised in his head. he asked around the paddock, even going as far as to ask charles where you went. the other drive shrugged and told him that you moved back to your home country with a "little extra luggage". there were no social media posts. nothing. it nagged in the back of his brain for what felt like a lifetime. what happened to ferrari's princess?

it wasn't until almost three years later, max had claimed another world championship. it felt like these days he was riding high. he was still the best. but as he walked into the paddock to train for the upcoming season, he stopped in his tracks. he felt like he was splashed with cold water.

there you were, three years older with a glow to you. you were laughing with charles and lewis, you looked different but in a good way. you were in overalls and a ferrari shirt underneath. you were more curvy than you were when you were driving. and while you were still beautiful like the sun, pulling max in. what made his stomach drop was who was in your arms.

a young boy, with big curious eyes and round cheeks. he held onto you tightly, his small fists in the fabric of your shirt. he seemed curious about the track, but not scared of how big it all felt. while max would've assumed that you got married and had a child as a lot of people did. but that's not what had happened.

max knew right away at the first glance of your son. looking at him was like looking at max's childhood photos. even in features that matched your own, your son carried a lot of max in him. the itch in his brain after you fell off the earth all those years ago came back, this was where you went. the boy looked like him and if he was right about the boy's age then dates lined up. there was no question. max verstappen was your son's father. and when you noticed him staring. you simply smiled and gave him a wink, shifting the boy in your arms and pointing at the me. when your son smiled, max felt something in his gut. looking at you, holding your (his) son, made max feel like he was home. and all those feelings he had been carrying poured back into his head and heart. the same emotions that allowed you to bed him. <3

sequel: love is a kick to the stomach

[doomedmoth]

Better kind of best friend (part 3)

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn't expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends...

Moth's prophecy 💡 : Your favorite omen of doom & cringe is baaaack ! I wanted to give a special thanks to all the precious cryptids who have asked for the part three for literal weeks, always staying patient, nice, and sending messages so sweet I rot my teeth on them and made a collection of screenshots in my notes to motivate me. I never thought anyone would like my writing, let alone wait for it, so thank you. Y’all are my lights. On the subject of Better kind of best friend, a fourth part was not planned at first, but will make the ending smoother, so I’m sorry, this is not the end yet ! For those just discovering the series, you can find part one here and part two here, or in in the masterlist ! Enjoy !

“Ah per favore… Tell me you’re not dressing up like that for her.”

“Ah please, tell me you’re not giving your opinion when no one asked for it.” Chiara popped her tongue at your cold answer, and stayed in the opening of your door, clearly judging you.

You had been going through your closet for about an hour now, and the floor seemed to only disappear more and more under the layers of clothes thrown onto it carelessly. Nothing seemed good enough, partly because you had no idea what to expect for the evening, and mostly because no matter how much you refused to admit it, Chiara was right. You wanted to look pretty for someone else than yourself. For two people exactly. The thought of how quick you had thrown away all of your big principles when faced with fluttering eyelashes and pink cheeks almost made you sick.

Yet when they both got up from the table, Alex running to your arms with a smile and Charles blushing, eyeing you up and down, you thought that Chiara should just shut up once in a while. This was too good to not enjoy.

And you had promised yourself this would not be the same this time. They were your friends, they were dating, and you would keep a healthy relationship with both of them. But then Alexandra softly kissed your cheeks, and took your hand in hers. You would limit any type of confusing physical touch, and make sure to not give in to sweet pet names. But then she led you to Charles, who put his hand, much bigger and more calloused than his girlfriend’s, on your waist, and brought you closer to greet you. You would not let your fantasies take over facts, and you would keep all communication clear and honest to ensure your best friend stayed exactly that. A best friend. But then he told you you were gorgeous, and she giggled while still holding your hand, and they had your favorite drink already on the table, and suddenly you forgot everything you had told yourself in the mirror while getting ready. Surely it would come back to you if it was that important. Right ?

Back to you it came, in the form of Alex’s gorgeous friend and one of your workshop colleague, Luca. Almost falling on you as you exited the bathroom, he seemed like he had had one too many drinks already, and didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

“Oh mais regarde toi, quelle beauté !” He grabbed at your waist and kissed your cheeks, blabbering on and on in French about your makeup and outfit. “Who are you trying to impress by looking so gorgeous, babe ?”

You chuckled and pretended he was wrong, but could not help and steal a glance. Of course you wanted to impress them, what a joke to pretend you did not care. Why for, even you had no idea, but you knew you would be satisfied as long as they kept their eyes on you. Which they had stopped doing for a while now, seeing as they were cuddled up on one of the couches, Alexandra sitting on Charles’ lap, hands in his hair, while he peppered her neck and shoulder with soft kisses. You could hear her giggles from afar, smell his shampoo, or maybe you just knew them too well for your own good.

You knew you were staring, knew Luca would be quick to catch on to what was happening if you did not get a hold of yourself, but it seemed that even the music and lights had faded in favor of the scene in front of you. It was hypnotizing, seeing her give in, seeing him take charge, knowing in your heart you should be there but never would be. Cheeks heating up, you turned back to Luca.

“I actually wouldn’t mind some company, if anyone here shares your opinion tonight.” Beaming, he hooked his arm with yours and took you straight to the bar to get a refill, which would inevitably end up spilled on the floor when he made you dance until you saw stars.

You don’t know how long you had danced for when he came to you. Hands sliding down your waist to your hips, his hot breath making the hairs on your neck dress up, you did not look up. You knew it wasn’t him. Because you knew how his hands felt from that one time he caught you from falling, because no man in their right mind would dance that way with their girlfriend’s friend in a crowded club, because it would never be your neck he buries his face in. But just for a few seconds, maybe minutes, you caught yourself hoping it was true, dreaming you would turn around and get a glimpse of green eyes before his lips crashed into yours. But the eyes were dark, the hair too blonde, the hands too soft. And yet you still let him kiss you, and when his slim fingers brought your dress higher on your buttcheeks, you even moaned in his mouth. Desperate was an understatement at this point.

“I’m going to put my fist so far up his ass he’ll be lucky if…” Alex’s sentence was cut short by Charles’ hand slamming against her face, flashing an apologetic smile to the friends they were chatting with and dragging her away. “Who even is that ? I’m going to get a bouncer to kick him out.” Charles had to tighten the grip on his arm to finally get her to look at him.

“Calm. Down.” This seemed to only piss her off more, but before she could start another rant, this time aimed at her boyfriend, he grabbed her by the neck and kissed her, giving him the advantage of surprise to then speak in her ear. “I know. But love, just look around you. At least half of this party knows us. I’m not sure punching a guy flirting with…” Unsure of how to call you to appease Alex, he opted for simplicity. “Y/N, and making a scene like a jealous wife is the best way to get her back.”

She sighed, head rubbing against the palm of his hand, before raising her doe eyes at him. “Then do it, Charles.” Getting closer to him, Alexandra brought her lips to his, her breath intoxicating like syrupy almonds. “Everyone knows you. Everyone loves you. Who would even dare to say something to Mr. Golden Boy.” Fluttering her eyelashes, she knew exactly how to get him. Sweet as honey, sharp as glass. “Why don’t you be a good boy and go fetch her for me, hm Charlie ?” He only managed to nod pathetically, his whole body aching to get on his knees and have her sit on his face.

The tension in his muscles was still present by the time he got to the bar stool where you were sitting, and he thought he might actually end up smashing the guy’s face against the counter. You were laughing like he had never heard before, the kind of sultry giggles that belonged to cab rides and hotel hallways, only an invitation for the hand already sat on your thigh to go up further. He barely had time to think of consequences, and you to realize he was standing behind you, before his hand fell to the guy’s shoulder, and he started speaking in his ear. The music was too loud, you were getting really drunk, so when the man’s eyes got wide, and he apologized before leaving in a hurry, you were unable to guess what Charles could have told him.

“I’m sorry, doll…” It wasn’t the first time he called you that, yet everytime it left your heart pulsing, and your core aching for more. You felt your legs wobble as he slid between them. “Seems he wasn’t interested in much more than a quick fling.” His fingers ran up your thigh and you almost fell the dig of a nail, before he took the hem of your dress and brought it back down to its usual length. The exhale that came out of your mouth felt like the first one in hours. “And you’re worth more than quick, aren’t you ?” At this moment, no, you weren’t worth more than that, you were yearning for someone to take your mind off the shitshow that was your heart, even if it meant bending over a bathroom sink for any nameless guy. But you smiled through the shivers and thanked him, even daring to put your hand on his. Everything was spinning, your ears were ringing, but he was smiling back at you, so maybe this evening wasn’t so bad. “Party’s over, let’s go home, doll.”

On the way back, Alex sat in the front of the car, but kept her hand on your knee the whole way, tracing small circles on your exposed skin. It almost seemed to you that with every sharp breath you took, you saw her smile in the car’s mirrors, but you fell asleep without being sure.

Even Charles was annoyed now. Maybe he could buy you a leash, make sure you were never straying too far. A tag too, so that you wouldn’t get lost. One with his name etched into the metal, just so there’d be no doubt. Just so that everyone knew who you belonged to. Would you be good ? Obedient ? He barely managed to get back to reality before his face got as red as his suit. Knee bouncing restlessly, his eyes were unable to leave you, bent over his car as a mechanic showed you his seat. If he could see you, it meant everyone could. And that was starting to get on his nerves.

“Sorry I found a pretty one” Alex whispered, sliding up behind him, her voice a low hum of amusement against his ear. “Sometimes I wish I could lock her up too…”

“I mean you could.” Charles knew he was fucking up. The words had tumbled out before he could stop himself, the implication behind heavy with something he would not dare to name. He knew his girlfriend had been teetering on the edge lately, and that any idea fueling her possessiveness would be considered, no matter how immoral. He knew he was supposed to be the voice of reason. Your soft way back to her, to them. Like the web to the spider. But this new mechanic he was definitely going to get fired was now making you try a headset, and he was playing with your hair, and the image of you getting yanked back to his feet was taking too much place in his brain. So when Alexandra stared at him, he simply shrugged, surrendering. “I don’t want her to stray too far when I’m on track. Who knows what could happen to her.”

When the free practice started, and Alexandra sent you to get her painkillers from the “infirmary”, you didn’t know what you were getting into. As the door locked behind you in the small storage room, you became painfully aware that you had no idea how this world worked. You had followed her instructions blindly, not really knowing anyone, and not wanting to cause trouble. And now you were banging on the door, feeling the air slowly get out of your lungs as the panic took over your body. There wasn’t any light in the room, and you could faintly hear the rumbles of the cars in the distance. Everyone was probably busy either watching or working on the track. No one would hear you scream, yet you begged for help with every bit of energy left in you.

Claustrophobia had been the fear you never got over. Taking stairs rather than elevators and walking over crowded buses, you had mostly managed on your own. But there you were, stuck in what seemed smaller than your bathroom at the residency, wondering if you were about to suffocate to death between tyre blankets and wires in Abu Dhabi. Charles had told you the practices lasted about an hour. But would you ? And even if your lungs hadn’t burnt from the thick air then, would someone find you right away ? Who could even come to look for you, in such a foreign place, with no friends other than two of the busiest people there could be this weekend ? Tears streaming down your face, you found yourself wishing you had never left their side. Maybe that would have been childish, but you would have been safe.

“Y/N ? Y/N are you in there ?” Anywhere in the world you would have recognized this voice. The only one that would understand your pain because she knew your fears. You screamed her name and heard rustling in the hallway. For a second when the door opened, she stood bathed in the clinical white lights, and you thought you had died. No angel would ever come close to such a vision. “Y/N ! Mon chou come here oh my god” She fell to her knees, opening her arms, and it felt like coming home. To hell with the physical distance, to hell with the principles. She had found you. She had saved you. Your head in her neck and her hands in your hair, you tightened your arms against her even when she gasped, but pulled you even closer. The tears falling down on your cheeks weren’t yours only, and you could barely make out what she was saying.

When the buzzing in your ears finally calmed down, she had cupped your face, whispering inches away from it. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you you’re safe. Please don’t leave me anymore. Please please please Y/N I beg you I got so scared, you weren’t coming back and I thought something had happened to you, it’s not safe here.” Rubbing your cheek with her thumb, she even kissed repeatedly your forehead as you could only nod, still crying. “Stay by my side, please never do that again. I thought I had lost you, I thought…”

You said yes, over and over again, apologizing as if it had been your fault, promising to be good like a prayer to a benevolent deity.

When Charles got out of the car and saw you holding Alex’s hand, your whole body twitching while she was beaming, he could not help but smirk. On a counter next to his phone, the keys to one of the storage rooms sat innocently, gleaming under the lights.

The weeks following the incident felt like a blur, as if your mind was slowly sinking into the mist of December mornings, and the last of your independence with it. Wherever you turned, Alexandra’s warmth and Charles’s steady hands were there, lingering at the edge of your vision, too close to be a coincidence.

But it was too comforting to not bathe in it. Your mind kept on replaying the moment your friend had found you in the storage room so many times it became a mantra, a balm to soothe the fear that still clawed at your thoughts at night. She found you. She saved you. She would never leave you. Charles too, after making a scene at the race and demanding the lack of safety in the infrastructure to be investigated, had made a point of shielding you from anything he deemed not safe. Which now that you were back in Monaco, seemed to be everything and everyone. You caught him glaring more than once at strangers, his body always carefully sliding between you and anyone who got too close.

Yet you had also been witness to the ugly side of fame since, the shadows it casted and the vultures it attracted, and trusted them to keep you away from it. All celebrities seemed to like their private life to stay, well… Private, and so when he brushed a stray hair from your face and told you he wouldn’t let any creep bother his dear friend, you believed him.

And truth be told, you loved the attention. That’s what you wished for, all you ever wanted, you told yourself as Alex braided your hair on the couch of the residency, Charles scrolling on his phone, his knee brushing absent-mindedly against yours. It was sweet, how they cared so much. Your roommates had given up on understanding, as long as the mood was not as icy as it had been the past month, they were fine with pretending nothing had ever happened. Life itself seemed to be so much easier with just them anyway. Why bother looking elsewhere, for what even ?

“I thought you were really cute, and I just wanted to give you my number, if you ever wanna go on a date.” The French accent snapped you out of your thoughts, and you nodded, blushing, as the barista winked at you. Your gaze immediately darted to the side, as if they’d be standing there, watching. But you had come alone, like stepping outside without a coat, not sure how you were now feeling about the decision. No matter what, it seemed their presence clung to you like a second skin.

They weren’t stopping you from dating, or making friends out of the internship. But it had been a while since you had thought about anyone else in that manner, and stepping out of the comfortable bubble you had built around the three of you now seemed like such an effort, on top of being scary. A voice in your head, your voice probably, even though it sounded too much like Alexandra’s, always ended up whispering : What else do you need that you don’t already have ?

The barista’s number scribbled on a napkin stayed untouched in your bag. Charles’ eyes had lingered too long on your phone screen one night, and when you mentioned in passing the way the uber driver had complimented your makeup, Alex had tilted her head just slightly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, her tongue brushing faintly against her canine. But they laughed it off, and you laughed with them, sinking into a soft net that felt more silk than cloud.

Had you been more careful, maybe you would have seen the signs. The way stuff in your bedroom seemed to change places, or even disappear. The deleted messages sent from your own phone, asking to be left alone, confirming you weren’t interested. The delicate touch of a hand on your arm, the oh-so-French kiss on the cheeks you always seemed to receive whenever a flirtatious wink was sent your way. But you had missed her, and you liked him so much, and for nothing in the world you would go back to a world where those weren’t your best friends. No matter how hard it was to fall asleep picturing them running their hands further than morality authorized.

As you lingered by Marco’s door, his bed still a wreck even though he had left a week ago, you couldn’t help but sigh. The house was so quiet, barely troubled by the faint swirl of wind in the garden. You thought you would like it this way. Even though it had been fun, living with seven other art students had been… Messy. Now everyone had gone home, and there was no need for fighting over the thermostat or Sunday mornings rush to get groceries anymore. Only the handmade decorations were left behind, like ghosts of their absence.

You couldn’t explain to yourself why you had resisted going home. On the phone with your mother, you had brushed it off with excuses about the time-consuming art pieces, the flights, and how it would be easier to stay. But when the clock struck midnight on the 22, and the thought of waking up alone for the next few days clawed at your chest, you booked the next available flight. You’d surprise your family. Sitting at the table and laughing at their jokes and going for a walk after lunch. You’d come home.

The morning of the 24th greeted you with hope, and then a storm. Nice’s airport’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crowd’s disappointed faces as flight after flight turned red on the departure boards. You tried to stay calm, fiddling with a trinket tied to your bag, but when the announcement came that no flights would leave until the storm cleared, something inside you cracked. You were stuck. Not home. Not Monaco.

You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over Alexandra’s contact. You hadn’t told them you were leaving, hadn’t wanted to explain why the urge to run away, and why you were now desperately crawling back. The empty airport felt like punishment, and your fingers moved before you could second-guess yourself. Faced with her warm voice, the words tumbled out on their own. The storm. The canceled flights. The panic of the crowd slowly but surely spreading to you.

“You stay there, we’re coming to get you”. You barely had time to protest before the call ended.

When their car pulled up outside the terminal, the storm still raged, rain lashing against the windshield as Charles parked. Alex hopped out, an umbrella barely covering her as she ran to you, her sparkly short dress illuminating the pavement. “Oh, mon chou, you must be freezing,” she cooed, wrapping her coat around your shoulders and guiding you to the car.

Charles was waiting, heater blasting, his smile soft as he looked back at you from the driver’s seat. “You should’ve told us you were leaving,” he said, a hint of reproach softened by his tone.

You shrugged, sinking into the warmth of the car. “It was a last-minute thing.”

Alexandra clicked her tongue, clearly disapproving, as she slid in beside you. “At least you have your bag ready.” You barely had time to register what was happening as you saw Charles type in an address that was definitely not the residency. Before you could ask, his eyes met yours in the mirror.

“You’re not spending Christmas alone, doll. I called my mom on the way, so I hope you like oysters.” He broke eye contact as you opened your mouth to protest, his voice much lower, daring you to defy him. “Don’t argue with me, it’s already settled.”

Their idea of Christmas was something out of a dream. Charles’ family home in Monaco was decked out in soft lights and greenery, the smell of mulled wine and myriads of meals filling every corner. His family welcomed you with open arms, and Alexandra’s parents, who had joined as well, treated you with the delicate attention of pretending like your presence had always been planned.

The day went on as if you were stuck in the flow of a warm river, feeling the deep call you but unable to move a muscle to swim against it. You hadn’t been allowed to lift a finger, Charles steering you away from the kitchen when you offered to help, pressing a glass of wine in your hand instead. “Absolutely not. You’re a guest, Y/N. Relax.”

Everytime someone asked how you were enjoying the day, one of them was always quick to describe how “special” it was to have you here, and how glad they were to finally be able to introduce you. Their attention was always on you, always ready for any request you might have. What had become a natural habit, developing over the last few weeks, was now exacerbated under the glimmering lights, and the Christmas tree seemed to wink at you, knowingly, as if it was in on whatever elaborate spectacle Charles and Alexandra had orchestrated. Their care was overbearing but left no room for complaint. By the time dessert was served, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. An intricate figurine in a glass case, too precious to touch but constantly on display. Anytime Charles called for his doll, you got dizzier.

When everyone gathered around the fireplace to open their gifts, the cook gave you a knowing look and gestured at another glass of wine left on the kitchen counter, before swiftly exiting the room. You gladly took it and observed from afar the parade of extravagance. Designer clothes, limited-edition art pieces, concerts tickets in another country. If you thought your own Christmases back home were lavish, it was no comparison to the Leclerc’s.

“Here, mon chou.” Alexandra purred, pressing a carefully wrapped small box in your hand. “We planned on giving it to you next week but now’s even better.”

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks heat up as everyone turned to you. This was not planned. You did not have time to get either of them anything, even less their families. It all felt like a show you had never agreed on being a part of. “You really didn’t have to-”

“Open it.” Charles interrupted, his grin infuriating, dimples bigger than ever. He lounged back on the sofa, one ankle resting casually on his knee, his gaze fixed on you. With a brush of his hands, he pretended to swish away your worries. “We’ll go and change it if you don’t like it”.

The box revealed a delicate bracelet, platinum with tiny diamonds winking along its length. Sucking in a breath, you felt their eyes on you, expectant, hungry for your reaction. “It’s pretty, no ?” Alexandra’s voice was eager, her fingers brushing yours as she took the bracelet to clasp it around your wrist. It was too much. The alcohol made your head pound and you felt like throwing up. Raising your eyes, the guilt hit you like a wave. They had done so much for you, gone out of their way to include you, and you couldn’t even summon the gratitude they deserved ? The metal was biting into your skin as if in reprimand, your whole body feeling like fire since you had finished your glass. Taking a deep breath, you excused yourself to “freshen up”.

The low hum of voices faded as you found a quiet room in the labyrinth that was the house. This is what you’d always wanted, wasn’t it ? To be cared for, adored, treated like the most important person in the room ? Then why did it feel too much ? Why did it feel like drowning ? You thought back to October, and quickly recognized the signs of your love barging through the door, demanding the best place at the table. You couldn’t let either of them know you were back on your stupid feelings, or they would leave you again. And then ? You had seen the pain, for everyone involved. Good friends. Best friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. You exhaled, praying for your thoughts to shut up, concentrating on the wind outside.

It was Charles that came for you, sitting carefully next to you on the bed, as though you might shatter if he moved an inch wrong. Turning away from the frosted window, you murmured. “Just needed a breather.”

“I’m sorry.” Before you even had time to ask what for, he sighed, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “For all of this. We just wanted to make you feel welcome but… It’s obviously not working.” Running a hand through his hair, betraying his frustration, his other one went tentatively to yours, and your fingers laced together. “I can see you’re not enjoying this, and I know it will never be the same as being with your family.”

“Charles, I don’t-”

“I can arrange a plane.” He was rambling on, a habit they seemed to share, and in the soft light of the moon, you could swear his eyes were red. “First thing in the morning, have you be home before lunch. We love having you here, doll, but… I think it might have been selfish of us.” There. You had made him sad. He had made you feel like family and you had fled like a spoiled child. If anyone was selfish here, it was you.

“No !” You blurted, the word too loud, startling even yourself. Moving towards him on instinct, you threw yourself in his arms, hands gripping to his back, fingers curling against the smooth fabric of his sweater. He tilted his head, questioning, but you only buried your face against his chest. “I… I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed ungrateful. I didn’t mean to. It’s not too much, you’re not too much. You could never be. I’ll try harder, I’ll appreciate it more, I’m sorry I-” It seemed the habit had also infected you, and your monologue was stopped by Charles’ thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“Shhh” The hand that was in your back went up to your head, softly rubbing your hair, as you lost yourself in his eyes. Were those freckles or just beauty spots ? Had those always been here ? You felt tempted to touch them but froze up when your lips opened up on instinct. Seriously, how many drinks did you have ? “You don’t have to apologize. I just want you to feel welcomed and… Appreciated.” The moment stretched, world narrowing to the warmth of his arms and the pulse of your heart as he opened your mouth even more and slid his thumb past your lips, your teeth, and to rest against your tongue. “And loved.” His gaze was fixated on your lips, and for a brief moment, until footsteps were heard in the hallway, you thought he was going to kiss you, or maybe slap you. You wouldn’t have protested either.

His lips went to brush softly against your forehead, and it took every last ounce of self-control in you to not bite down on his thumb as he took it out of your mouth. His fingers traced down your cheek, your jaw, down to your neck, where he softly closed his fingers around your throat as the moan that had been stuck in there was finally let free. You wanted this moment to last forever, almost wished he would choke you out so you would never have to go back to reality. But something snapped suddenly in his eyes, and he ruffled at your hair before standing up with a confidence that made you question if the moment had truly happened, or if the cook had spiked your drink. In the white light of the night, his finger shined briefly with saliva, and you followed him back to the living room like a dog who had gotten the sweetest treat.

The floor length mirror stared back at you, unkind in its honesty. You leaned in as Alexandra gently titled your chin up with her fingertips, her voice humming as she added the finishing touches to your makeup. The sharpness of your features seemed amplified under their bedroom golden light, and your reflection felt foreign. Maybe it was the week, and its endless swirl of champagne, parties, and faces you couldn’t remember. Or maybe it was the memory of Christmas Eve, and its almost-kiss which kept replaying in your mind like a broken record you didn’t have the strength to discard.

Charles hadn’t mentioned it. Not a word. The morning after, his smile came on as easy as ever, his voice smooth and jokes easy, as if nothing had happened. Alex had thrown herself onto him, bathing him in affection, as though your world hadn’t turned upside down in that hidden room. Even now, as his hands brushed against your shoulders, slipping the straps of your too-short dress into place, you were wondering if you hadn’t dreamed it all.

“Stop squirming” He teased, smoothing out the fabric and pulling up the zipper.

Alexandra laughed and stepped back to inspect her work, two fingers still holding your chin. “She’s not squirming, she’s just nervous.”

“Il y a pas de quoi être stressé, c’est le Nouvel An, pas une gardav’ non plus…” Not understanding the slang, you copied your friend’s reaction, and as she clicked her tongue, you rolled your eyes.

You felt like an imposter. How could you have let it get this far ? You were supposed to go back to being friends, that was the deal. Not over complicating things, not pushing boundaries of what they were giving you. But then every time one of their friends got curious about you, Alexandra would say you were “Just someone special”, her casual voice contrasting with her nails scratching on your thigh. Her eyes would flicker, the kind that warned you not to correct her, and you let yourself get locked up in this almost-relationship that you had so desperately tried to escape a few weeks before.

Reaching for the curling iron, she murmured, more observation than question. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Just tired, I guess… We’ve gone out a lot this week.” You forced a laugh, aiming for nonchalance, but Charles simply raised a brow, not impressed.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can just stay there, order some food, …”

You cut him off by twirling on yourself, the dress flaring so high it couldn’t have been conceived to cover anything. Alexandra groaned and caught you by the shoulders to steady you, apparently not satisfied with your curls. “When I look like that ? It would be such a waste !” The green-eyed boy chuckled and nodded in agreement. Dressed to perfection, your hair soft and shining, you looked exactly like what they wanted you to be : a doll. And truth be told, you enjoyed it. When he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and they both looked at you with something that could be pride, you knew you owed it to them to have fun, at least tonight, at least the following months. At least until England called you back and you answered, leaving your summer love to rest on the green hills. You owed it to them to pretend you weren’t haunted by the ghost of “almost”, and maybe you could even pretend long enough to end up believing it yourself.

“Close it, you’re going to swallow a fly.” Charles pushed softly on your chin to close your mouth you had left wide in awe, before rubbing the nape of his neck. “Much funnier in French…” He mumbled before leaving his keys to a valet, and opening the way for you and Alexandra. The mansion was huge, its garden spilling to the edge of the woods behind it, and the music pulsing through the air carried promises of a night you might not remember in the morning.

It seemed everyone who knew a Formula 1 driver, directly or indirectly, had been invited. Some faces you recognized, but most not, and the shower of compliments you found yourself in as soon as you stepped foot in the main living room quickly felt suffocating. The polite flirting made you feel uneasy, their admiration like scrutiny, and before you even had time to cling to your anchors, they drifted away. “I’ll be right back, chou.” Charles’ hand brushed briefly against yours before he followed his girlfriend to go greet some friends, and you stayed right where they left you.

No matter how much you repeated your internal calming mantra, the vulnerability was creeping in. There were too many people you didn't know, and so you made it a mission to not lose again the only two that mattered. When they asked if you were having fun, you nodded, the lie automatic. For the following hours, it turned to truth, as you stuck close to them like a guard dog unwilling to stray too far from its leash. If Charles moved to refill a drink, you downed yours too quickly to follow. If Alexandra drifted to another conversation, your hand clung to her elbow, begging to tag along. You weren’t proud of it, but the dread clawed at your chest every time you stood alone for more than a heartbeat. You were enjoying yourself as long as you weren’t left to your own devices. Long gone was the resolution of making new friends, it seemed.

The air in the house had been filled with tension as midnight approached, and you felt like you had suddenly woken up. A glass of something golden in your hand, its fizz long forgotten, you were nodding along to Pierre’s story about an incident on a recent trip, while his girlfriend Kika hung onto his arm, punctuating his tale with playful jabs. You tried to listen, you really did, but something was missing, and you couldn’t help but give in to the voices bothering your every thought as he wrapped up his story.

“Have you seen Charles ? Or Alex…?”

Kika’s lips curled, mischief in her eyes, and she exchanged a look with Pierre who chuckled. “They’ve probably gone to enjoy the view, as usual.”

“Top floor,” Kika added, still giggling as she sipped her cocktail. “There’s a balcony up there that’s quite… Private.”

Mumbling a quick excuse, you set your glass down and slipped away, through the maze of guests and corridors of the sprawling mansion. The thud in your ears was soon more heartbeat than music, the knot in your stomach tightening between unease and anticipation. When you reached the top floor, the door to the bedroom was ajar, dim light coming from within and spilling onto the hallway. You closed it behind you, breath stuck in your throat.

There they were. Alexandra’s back was pressed against the railing, her sequined dress shimmering in the moonlight as Charles leaned into her. His hands rested on either side of her waist, fingers curling possessively over the iron, as he brought one knee up between her legs, silencing her laugh. He was working down her throat when she opened her mouth, eyes fixed on you, but did not stop kissing and biting, seemingly not caring.

“Oh darling, caught us” She purred, her voice thick with amusement. Her manicured finger pointed at you before curling, inviting you to come closer. You should not. You should flee. This was not your moment, it would never be. Also, you should keep a closer eye on your drinks because someone was definitely having fun drugging you lately, no way any of this was true. But your feet moved before your brain was done having a panic attack, and you found yourself gently pushed in the woman’s arms by Charles.

She probably saw your eyes jumping from one to the other, thoughts racing behind them at light speed, and with each hand on your cheeks, centered you back to her face. This felt like deja-vu, your lips so close, your perfume swirling together, like the wish you had screamed to the moon that night was finally becoming true, only a few months too late.

“I’m sorry.” Oh no. Oh not again. You were about to jump out of her embrace when you felt his body behind yours, closing back on both of you as his hands caught on the guardrail once more. “Stay. Please.” Not like you had much of a choice anyway. Charles was looking down at the garden over her shoulder, badly pretending as if he wasn’t inches away from the most private conversation happening tonight. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what was going on between us. And I’m sorry I hurt you in the process. You deserve the world, not any of the mess I put you through. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.” She was already forgiven, how could she not when her apologies were whispered between your lips. “But I know where I stand now. And if you allow me, I’ll never give you less than the world. Because that’s what you deserve. Because you love me and I love you.”

“Ten !” Charles took a step to the side as the screams from downstairs echoed through the whole house. He leaned on the balcony, and you almost fell to the floor from the shaking in your legs. “Nine !” She caught you by the waist and pulled you back to her with a laugh, one so hesitant it could only be filled with honesty.

“Eight !” You were dreaming. You wanted to punch yourself to wake up, but without even knowing how, your hands had gone up to her arms, shoulders, neck, cheek. “Seven !” You had promised yourself, you had promised her, and Chiara, and the world itself, that you would be fine being just friends. “Six !” Why was she the one ruining all of your efforts ? Why was she still the one you would wait for, when everyone else was long gone ?

“Five !” Was Charles just going to stand there, and pretend like his girlfriend didn’t confess to someone else ? “Four !” Maybe they had talked ? Maybe they had been open this whole time and you hadn’t seen the signs ? Would he kiss you too ? “Three !”

You cupped her cheeks and it felt like the world exploded when your lips met. Or maybe it was just the fireworks. Maybe it was the culmination of months of pining, love and pain, that was giving her kiss a taste of blood, a taste of more. She switched your places, pinning you against the barrier and deepened the kiss as your hands tugged at her hair, undoing the curls she had so carefully crafted. Everyone was screaming for the New Year, but you felt like they were doing it for you. Is that how it felt, to love and be loved ? Like you would rather run out of oxygen than end the moment. Like teeths and tongues, being fourteen and messy all over again. Like a movie-worthy compilation of every smile she had flashed you for the last four months was playing behind your closed eyes.

When you opened them, her mouth now running wild on your jaw, it’s a green spark of amusement that was looking back at you, a slow whistle coming out of his dry lips. Shit. You had kissed his girlfriend. Or his girlfriend had kissed you. And he wasn’t moving to join in. Were you about to be thrown from the highest balcony in some sick kind of real-life Cluedo ? But he simply brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and the small caress he gave to Alexandra’s back made her moan against your collarbones. “Les clés sont sur la porte mon amour.” She mumbled what you understood to be thank you, not sure why for, as he moved towards the door.

“Wait Charlie I’m…” It was difficult to talk with Alex, determined to kiss every inch of visible skin on your body, and there was a lot. “I’m sorry I… What’s happening ?” You could only hope they had not broken up, not because of you, yet you saw no world in which this situation would be acceptable for him. With his usual playful grin you had grown so fond of, he winked at you before exiting the room swiftly.

“There’s a time for actions, and a time for explanations. Happy New Year, doll.”

With every step that she took you followed, painfully aware of how much she knew you, much better than you would have thought. Kissing in all the right places, her grin was getting wider every time you winced under the dig of her sharp nails, and she hushed you as if the drunken screams downstairs weren’t covering your moans. But you were determined to be good, as you had been from day one, and so you bit the pillow and pulled at her hair, let her know it hurts and let her keep going, because you loved her and she loved you. And she would never leave you.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Taglist : @sam-is-lost // @mangotaitai // @ilovechickenwings // @eroselless // @zreads111 // @crimson-spine // @inejismywife // @champomiel // @eternoange1 // @charizznorizz // @exactlycoralfox // @waitwhendidwegethere // @cluelessred3 // @spookystitchery // @erikasurfer // @catswag22 // @appl3-0rchard // @janeh22 // @boohoneyy // @sheslikeacurse // @customsbyjcg-blog // @urmotheris // @lewisvinga // @formulaal // @novocainenoon // @taytaylala12 // @esterdnebe // @jack0357 // @mortallyblueninja // @jexxy04 // @itsprashimusic // @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp // @annabellelee // @natsmywife // @daisyfreecs // @scorpiomindfuck // @themessietbihalive // @ananyasr1bughead

[leclerity]

the middle of the night

Charles Leclerc x Girlfriend!Reader count: 1.2k words summary: Charles shows up to your apartment in the middle of the night, drunk, and wanting one thing and one thing only. a/n: i bet you couldn't say no to drunk charles wanting to have sex... (18+)

You hear something thud in your room. You pick up the broom from the hallway and creep to your bedroom, slowly peeking through the door—

Only to find your boyfriend halfway through your window, dragging his left leg over the windowsill.

The light comes on with a flick. “Is there a reason you’re crawling through my window?”

Charles shields his eyes, finally flopping to the floor, then fumbles about with the window until it’s closed. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“What was your plan, exactly?”

“Well.” He stands with his hands on his waist, beaming at you. “I’d take my clothes off, get into bed with you, and be there when you wake up.”

“And you thought that wouldn’t disturb me.”

“It wouldn’t. Because you love me.”

His grin widens and you drop your pretence – yes, your boyfriend is a little dumb when he’s drunk, but at least he’s the kind to try to get into your bed when drunk and not someone else’s.

“Charles, it’s”—you check your phone—“the middle of the night.”

He nods. “Bedtime, then.”

Before you respond, he starts taking off his clothes, starting with the white polo he wore to the night out with the boys. He unbuttons it quickly, then looks at you—pauses—grins—and starts unbuttoning it slowly, keeping eye contact.

“You’re adorable,” you say, shaking your head. “Not happening, though.”

Charles pouts. “Why?”

“You’re drunk.”

“And in love,” he says, singing the “love”. He closes the distance between you and pulls you in by your waste, tickling your neck with kisses. “You’re the only thing I want tonight, baby.”

“Charles.”

“Mhm?”

The kisses continue, so you put your hands on his cheek, making him face you. You give him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll get you some water.”

He kisses you back. “I need you, not water.”

“Charles—”

“I can tell,” he says. “I know you want me, too.”

And you do—god, you do—because he keeps kissing you, brushing that sweet spot on your neck as his kisses threaten to trail lower, and because his hands are dropping lower, too, gripping you just right, and—

“Charles.”

He takes a step back immediately, noting the lack of playfulness in your voice. “Okay.”

You kiss him on the cheek. “Get in bed. I’ll join you in a minute.”

He nods and you can tell he’s disappointed, but he’d never go against your wishes. There’s a line between being playful, debating, maybe even considering his proposal – and the no that means a flat-out no, no considerations included. He never pushes when you don’t want him to.

And, unfortunately, that just makes him want you more.

You fill up two glasses of water and take some aspirin from the medicine cabinet, some chocolates, too. Either of you could get peckish later, or in the morning, and you’d rather account for that in advance.

In your bedroom, as you approach it—gently, just in case—Charles is sprawled on top of the covers, with only boxers to hide his modesty. You chuckle and he startles, then beckons you to come over.

“I just want to cuddle,” he says. “I promise.”

You give him the glass and he downs it, then puts it on the nightstand on your side of the bed. The light’s still on but it’s a warm, gentle yellow, and you think about leaving it on for just a little longer.

“Y/N. Mon amour. Come here.”

You kiss him as you join him on top of the covers. His arms close around you as if that’s all they were made to do and you feel tension drift from your body. He smells like his most recent aftershave, and you inhale it as if it were a drug – even sweaty after a night out, he still smells like a god.

Charles kisses the top of your head.

“Charles,” you say.

“Mhm?”

“You tired?”

“Not very.” He kisses you again, snuggles you closer. “Why?”

“I’m think I’m too awake to fall back asleep.”

His palm is flat on your side and his thumb moves side to side, and you hear him sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I can’t believe you thought that getting in through the window wouldn’t wake me.”

He kisses you again. “You’re a heavy sleeper, bebe.”

“Not today. Not when you’re out,” you remind him.

“But I’m here now, and you’re still not sleepy.”

You hesitate for a moment—you can still hear the life outside your window, and the world is still wide awake, it seems—but then you push yourself up, kissing the corner of Charles’s jaw.

“I can think of a way you could make up for it,” you whisper.

His hands are on your waist in an instant and he’s kissing you, no, devouring you, and you feel taste the alcohol on his lips and start to feel a little drunk, yourself, as his kisses outline your jaw and stick to your neck, a little too long, long enough that you’ll have little bruises tomorrow, and—

He hits the spot and you moan his name.

“Mon amour.” His hand’s on your mouth and face above yours, pupils dilated and eyes wild. “We don’t want to be too loud, do we?”

“No,” you mutter through his hand.

“You want to go to sleep after this, right?”

“Yes.”

He kisses the corner of your jaw like you did to him earlier and he’s nibbling at your earlobe. “Then relax and enjoy.”

His hands cup the bottom of your shorts, getting a handful off your ass. He squeezes it, just enough to draw out a moan, and his lips are on yours again, reminding you to keep quiet, you don’t want the neighbours hearing, now, do you? You don’t want them to know how hard I fuck you when I haven’t seen you all day, when I’ve spent the last five hours thinking about coming here and taking you, all of you, mon amour.

You’re not sure if he’s saying this or if you’re imagining it, but you’re not even thinking about being quiet anymore because his head’s between your thighs now, telling you how good you taste, and his fingers are pressing down on your lower belly and the neighbours will know how hard he fucks you, they already do.

After a while, he stops asking you to hold back, but he smacks your ass until it’s red and you’re writhing in pleasure because you’re been a bad girl, and he’s filling you up so well that you wonder how in hell you thought you’d be able to go without this tonight.

By the time he’s done, you’re exhausted and so is he, and you fall asleep quicker than you thought it possible, with his hand still tangled in your hair.

[tpwk-formula1]

Thin Crust with Red sauce, topped with Jalapenos, Cilantro, Bacon, Buffalo Chicken. Served with Coke, Dr Pepper, Root beer, Pink lemonade, Sparkling Water, Black Tea, and Apple Juice! Served by lando please🩷🩷

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thin crust brother's best friend red sauce rough sex jalapenos "Always such a fucking brat" cilantro "Stop crying and fucking take it" bacon "What would your brother think if he caught us" buffalo chicken "Such a fucking crybaby, just fucking take it all" coke spanking black tea choking dr pepper dirty talk apple juice pain kink root beer daddy kink pink lemonade degrading kink sparkling water spitting dessert no served by Lando Norris

Lando x Piastri! reader

TW - rough sex, mean! Lando, multiple orgasm, face fuck, choking, spanking, unprotected sex

WC 1100+

Y/N POV

"Y/N are you staying in my room or Lando's tonight?" My brother asks while we are walking out of the paddock for the day. Monza just wrapped up and if I'm being honest it's races like this that I wish I had just gotten my own room. Both my brother and Lando are quite upset with their results today.

"I think Lando, give you some time to call Lily and speak with her," I answer softly while getting in the car with Oscar.

I had decided to spend a little bit of post race with Oscar knowing I would probably be with Lando for the night.

When we got back to the hotel Oscar and I both went our separate ways. When I got to Lando's hotel room I knock softly and wait for him to open the door for me.

When he opens it and I see him for the first time in awhile I can see the pure anger swimming through my eyes.

"Don't even ask about it, just get in here and strip down," Lando tells me when he can see that I'm about to ask about the race. I just nod my head and make my way into the bedroom part of the hotel suite where I instantly strip down and get on my knees and wait for Lando to get all of his frustrations out.

When he comes into the room he's already shirtless and his sweats are laying extremely low on his hips showing me he had no briefs on under.

When he's standing in front of me he pulls his sweats down and says "you have 1 minute to get it hard."

I made quick work of teasing his cock with my lips before pulling his semi hard cock into my mouth. I could feel him start growing harder almost instantly.

It doesn't even take me a full 30 seconds to have him rock hard in my mouth, which has Lando starting to thrust into my mouth while I bob my head.

"Fuck, I love this mouth," Lando grunts while gripping my hair into a makeshift pony tail and using it to fucking my face onto his cock.

I'm gagging and crying all over his cock while he abuses my throat consistently hitting my gag reflex.

"Stop crying and fucking take it," Lando grunts out while he continues to pistol into my throat not slowing down in the slightest. I feel Lando push his dick all the way in and hold my head down on his dick cutting off my airflow while he continues to put pressure on the back of my head.

"Fuck," Lando grunts while he pulls his cock out leaving me a coughing and crying mess under him.

"Get it together, I'm far from done," Lando says while pushing me back down onto his cock and starts fucking my throat again only adding to the tears, spit, and snot that is starting to cover my face.

Lando pushes his cock all the way down my throat once again holding me for only a few seconds this time before pulling out slightly and fucking my throat before pulling my off his cock by my hair and lifting me off the ground and throwing me onto the bed where he positions me on my hands and knees.

"Fuck I love using your body," Lando grunts as he climbs into the bed and starts landing hard slaps down onto my ass.

"Lando," I whimper out when I feel his heavy hand land another spank.

"That's the wrong name and you know it," Lando states while sending down a rain of hard slaps on my ass.

"Lan, too much," I cry out.

"Always such a fucking brat," Lando grunts out as he continues to slap my ass painting it bright red with his hand prints.

"Daddy," I finally cry out which has Lando sending down one final hard spank before he's flipping me over on my back and plunging deep into my pussy and giving me no time to adjust before he's fucking me at a fast pace.

"Fuck, too fast," I cry out when Lando starts hitting my G-spot every time he fucks into me.

"Such a fucking crybaby, just fucking take it all," Lando grunts out while continuing to fuck me at the pace he set. I could feel my orgasm starting to build and Lando must sense it too because he brings one of his hands down to my clit and rubbing rough circles on it while bringing his other hand down to my throat and choking me cutting off all airflow.

I could feel my orgasm building and knew I was close but slightly distracted with not being able to breath but the second I fall over the edge as I'm close to passing out Lando releases my throat letting me breath as I start cumming making everything more intense. I'm screaming and crying while still cumming all over Lando's cock.

Once I've come down from my orgasm Lando continues to fuck me now chasing his orgasm.

"Look so pretty when you cum," Lando grunts while still teasing my clit knowing he could make me cum again.

"Daddy," I cry out overwhelmed with all the pleasure coursing through my body while also being extremely overstimulated.

"I can tell you're gonna cum for me again," Lando states while speeding his thrusts up even more when he sends a rough slap right down on my left tit making me whimper before he sends down another slap on my tit this time my right one.

"Cum with me," Lando grunts out while he brings one of his hands down to my throat and squeezing it slightly while moving his hand from my clit and landing soft slaps on my face.

"What would your brother think if he caught us, you taking my cock like you where fucking made for it while I slap this pretty face and make sure you can't breath until you're cumming all over my cock," Lando grunts out sending me right over the edge while pulling Lando with me making both of us cum at the exact same time. Lando sends one final thrust into my pussy unleashing a massive load deep within my pussy while releasing my throat and letting me scream out while I continue to cum for Lando.

"Fuck, always do so well for me," Lando says while slowly slipping his cock out of my pussy and leaning down to pull me in for a quick kiss.

[ace-race-ace]

“RPF is weird and is only detrimental to the sport!”

☝️🤓

There is a French comic series called Michel Vaillant which is literally f1 / Motorsport (borderline self-insert) RPF which has been around since 1957 and still going on today (most recent F1 issue literally included Daniel Ricciardo at Renault and Lewis Hamilton)

The reason I bring this up is because ALAIN PROST has stated that he was inspired to become an F1 driver because of this series!

So RPF literally gave us one of the sport’s biggest icons

(I can make a full post w/ proof if ppl are interested 🥰)

Full breakdown posted, check the comments

[lxndonorris]

gentle kisses - Lando Norris

Y/N x Lando Norris Theme: Fluff (lighty touching) after partying hard Lando is bothered by the "scar" on his nose, you're taking care of him :) word count: 1220+ taglist: @game-set-canet next one is CL surprising you with his old sauber suit, request another if you like gif by me

As the Thursday sun casts a warm glow through the windows of Lando's motorhome, anticipation hums in the air like a silent melody. With the Miami race weekend looming ahead, the atmosphere crackles with excitement and nerves.

Lando moves with practiced ease of a seasoned racer, slipping into his Mclaren team gear with precision. His movements are fluid, purposeful, each action a testament to the dedication and passion that fuel his journey in F1. You find yourself standing beside him, adorned in Quadrant merchandise, a proud display of allegiance to the man you love.

As Lando dons his shirt, you can't help but admire the way it accentuates his athletic frame, the fabric clinging to his contours in all the right places. A shy smile tugs at your lips as you drink in the sight, your heart swelling with pride for the man who has captured your heart.

Lando straightens his shirt with precise movements of his hands, and you can't help but notice the unconscious gesture—a fletting stroke of his hand over his own chest, a subconscious movement that speaks volumes of his nerves.

Sensing your gaze upon him, Lando turns, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that melts your inhibitions. 

"What do you think?" He asks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words.

"It looks perfect on you," you reply softly, your voice a whisper in the tranquil confies of the motorhome. "But then again, everything looks perfect on you."

A soft chuckle escapes Lando's lips, his eyes alight with affection. "You always know how to make me blush," he teases, his fingers brushing against your cheek with tender affection.

However, beneath Lando's confident facade lurks a subtle discomfort. The remnants of last weekend's escapade linger—a faint scar across his nose. Though the injury is minor, its presence gnaws at his confidence.

As Lando runs a hand across his face, your gaze flickers to the scar. Sensing his unease, you offer a reassuring smile, your eyes filling with genuine affection. With a gentle touch, you reach out and trace the scar's faint outline, your touch a soothing balm against his insecurities.

"It's not that bad, Lando." You whisper softly, and with an even softer touch, you caress his cheek, tracing his jawline with your fingertips.

Lando's gaze softens, his worries momentarily forgotten as he basks in the warmth of your embrace. 

"Thank you; that makes me feel a little better." He murmurs, his voice tinged with gratitude.

In a spontaneous gesture of love, you lean forward and press a tender kiss upon his nose, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin with utmost care. Lando flinches instinctively, a reflexive reaction to the unexpected sensation, but his discomfort quickly gives way to a joyous laughter.

"You goofball!" he chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "That tickles!"

In one swift motion, he puts his hands on your hips. Feeling the gentle pressure of Lando's hands around your waist, his touch sending a shiver down your spine, you surrender to the moment, allowing yourself to be pulled closer into his embrace.

His thumbs trace the curve of your waistline with a tender precision that leaves you breathless, your senses heightened by the electrifying connection between you.

You steady yourself against his firm frame, reveling in the strength and solidity of his presence. His beautiful eyes, pools of warmth, and intensity meet yours, sending goosebumps cascading across your skin.

As you gaze into his eyes, you feel your heart swell with an overwhelming rush of emotion. In that moment, there is only Lando, his chest raising and falling rhythmically beneath your touch.

Subconsciously, you begin to stroke his chest with both of your hands. He closes his eyes, savoring the sensation of your fingers tracing patterns over the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of his body radiates through his clothes, slowly engulfing your chest as well.

As your gentle strokes caress his tummy, Lando feels a sense of tranquility wash over him, his body relaxing instinctively in response to your soothing touch. A contented purr rumbles from deep within his chest, a sound of pure bliss that reverberates throughout the motorhome.

"You know how to make me feel at ease." A soft, short growl escapes his lips, followed by another, deep purr.

The familiar scent of Lando envelopes you like a warm embrace, filling your senses with comfort and belonging. With a tender smile, you run your hand through his curls, relishing the soft texture beneath your fingertips.

"That's what I am here for." You breathe deeply.

As your touch trails down his cheek, Lando melts into your caress, his body yielding to the gentle pressure with a sigh of contentment.

With a reassuring smile, you lean in close, your voice a soothing murmur against the backdrop of your shared intimacy. 

"Don't worry, Lando," you whisper, your words filled with unwavering confidence. "You look just as beautiful as always."

Feeling the warmth of his blush spreading across his cheeks, you can't help but smile. His hands tighten ever so slightly around your waist, pulling you closer.

With a shy smile, Lando meets your gaze, a mixture of bashfulness and adoration sparkling in his eyes. 

"Thank you." He says, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a playful grin, you lean in and press a gentle kiss on his lips, and an even gentler kiss on his nose causes him to chuckle again. As you draw back, a mischievous twinkle dances in your eyes, your fingers deftly snatching his cap from the table with a playful flourish.

"Looks like I've got your cap now," you tease, your voice laced with mischief as you perch it atop your head.

Lando grins, running one hand through his hair and the other gently across his chest, again and again. 

"But if you want it back, you'll have to buy it from me—with another kiss."

He considers you closely before letting out a soft giggle, laced with amusement, as he reaches out to reclaim his cap from your grasp.

"You drive a hard bargain," he chuckles. "But I suppose it's a price worth paying."

With a gentle tug, he pulls you close once more, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

As you separate from one another, you grin widely, placing the cap loosely on his head, allowing it to sit askew in a carefree manner. With a chuckle, Lando reaches up to adjust it, his fingers deftly straightening the cap until it sits perfectly atop his head.

"I can't look too disheveled for the media conference," he jokes, his tone light and playful as he meets your gaze with a fond smile.

You nod in agreement, your fingers trailing lightly over his chest in a final gesture of affection before you prepare to depart. The fleeting touch sends a thrill racing through Lando's veins, his heart skipping a beat at the sensation of your gentle caress.

As you make your way toward the door, hand in hand, you turn to him. "You've got this, Lando." You murmur softly, your voice soothing his nerves. 

Lando meets your gaze with a grateful nod, his eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and vulnerability.

With a final squeeze of your hand, Lando draws a deep breath and squares his shoulders, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

[themultifanshipper]

Really, even though you were friends, the last thing Logan should be asking the Williams HR representative about, in her office, is sex.

Warnings: oral, petnames, lots of petnames

Based on true events that happened to me last week. Only difference is it was in my appartment, and I didn't actually come.

Do I use too much italics? Probably. Do I care? Not one iota.

So yeah, this was probably breaching several clauses in both your contracts.

But Logan came into your office, looking a bit sheepish, and sat down on the grey sofa in the corner without a word. You just stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he just avoided your gaze.

"What can I do for you Logan?"

He didn't answer, just squinting at the floor, contemplative.

He came into your office quite often. Probably more than was strictly appropriate but after all, you used to be on the media team and had become friends with most of the drivers during your years at williams. Usually Logan and Alex (and occasionally others who "happened to be passing by") would come in for a chat, generally cheerful or angry or sad, depending on the kind of day they were having.

Today however, Logan was fully silent.

"Logan?"

He squinted again, this time at you, trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind.

"Lo, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong"

He took a deep breath before responding.

"So you know I'm a virgin, right?"

You, in fact, did not know that. You didn't think you were that close a friend, although you didn't exactly mind. It was just a bit sudden.

"What?!"

"Well technically I had sex once but it went really badly. And I haven't had any practice since, because I'm scared of picking up girls because I don't know what I'm doing and I'm an F1 driver so I'm supposed to be having loads of sex but imagine I'm really bad and it got out, it would be super embarrassing and I'd have to ask you, my friend, for an NDA about bad sex, which is just another level of weird and I'd hate for you to stop tal-"

"Logan!"

He stopped ranting and looked at you, obviously feeling rather vulnerable.

"Logan... have you just come into my office to tell me you're inexperienced at sex?"

He pursed his lips and frowned.

"Yes"

"Okay.... why?"

"Because I want you to teach me how to pleasure a woman"

He looked you straight in the eyes, with way too much confidence for someone who was suddenly eligible for a lawsuit.

You raised your eyebrows at him. "Logan, couldn't have waited until... oh I don't know, until we weren't in our workplace to ask me for sex?"

"Um... I guess?" He had the audacity to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I read this wrong. Do you uhh- not want to?"

You studied him for a second. What the fuck. It wasn't that the idea was unappealing, he was an attractive young driver with probably incredible stamina. Which is why you found the idea of him being inexperienced so odd. And why was he asking you for... guidance? A lesson? It was weird to think of him as anything other than your friend slash coworker Logan, who you had now known for nearly two years.

If someone had told you this morning that this is how your day was going to go, you would have told them to fuck off and gone back to sleep. You realised you must be taking too long to respond when Logan sighed and rubbed his face.

"Okay nevermind, I'm sorry I brought it up, we can just- pretend this conversation never happened"

He sounded almost sad as he got up to leave but stopped as you blurted out "No, wait!"

He stared at you questioningly.

"I'll do it" You sounded breathless "I'll teach you- how to do uhh... sex. With me."

His eyes lit up as he laughed "I hope you'll be more articulate than that "

"Oh fuck off" you hit his shoulder in retaliation "You're the one who looked like you were going to shit a brick when you walked in here!"

"Hey! That's a low blow" He pouted.

The atmosphere became more comfortable with the bickering but there was still an undercurrent of nervousness. He took a couple of steps towards you and leaned in but you stopped him with a hand on his unsurprisingly firm chest.

"You want to do this now?" You hissed "Are you fucking mental?"

He pouted again "why not, the bosses aren't here today, it's just us, and the engineers are working on the cars" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Well when you put it that way....

Fuck's sake.

You leaned in slowly, as if aiming for his mouth before swerving at the last second and pecked him on the cheek before whispering in his ear. "Lock the door for me will you, darling?"

His eyes darkened "Yes ma'am" and he turned away to lock the door.

You sat down on the sofa and spread your legs, beckoning him over and silently motioning for him to kneel between them. He did so and put his hands on your thighs, then looked up at you expectantly.

Oh, right. You were supposed to be teaching him.

"Okay so first you're gonna want to get me naked"

He giggled at your obvious statement before hooking his fingers into your waistband. "Sure thing, princess" Pulling them down and off, underwear soon following as he let out a breath, eyes and hands roaming over your newly exposed skin. "Shit, you're already so wet." He looked up at you again.

"Can I?" He asked.

So polite.

"Be my guest" you smiled at him as he lowered his body. He kissed the inside of your thighs, slowly inching towards where you needed him most. When he got there, you let out a strained half-sigh half-moan as he licked a stripe from your taint to your clit. The noise made him look up as he licked his lips, eye contact making you shiver. He then spread your thighs further and immediately buried his face between them like man starved, making a valiant effort to find your clit with his tongue.

"A bit lower- lower- a bit right. Wait no, your right"

He followed your instructions dilligently and when he found it, he sucked on your clit with fervour, which made you gasp and let out a shaky moan. "There, right there." as your right hand weaved itself into his hair.

Eyes on yours, he blinked up at you and you nodded to tell him he was doing a good job. Satisfied, he carried on, closing his eyes in concentration.

You grabbed one of his hands and started licking at his fingers, it startled him a bit and he looked back up at you, still surprisingly efficient with his mouth. The sight was absolutely sinful, blonde hair a mess, eyes blown wide, tongue out, working over your flesh. When you sucked one of his fingers into your mouth, straight down to the knuckle, he groaned, the vibrations making your hips twitch. You slid a second finger into your mouth, then a third, ensuring they were nice and wet, then pulled them out. "You can start putting them inside now".

He put the first one in, reaching so much deeper than you could manage on your own, all the while still lapping at your clit. You were so wet it didn't take long for a second one to join as he pushed them in and out gently.

"Okay now sort of hook them upwards" you showed him the movement with your own hand and he nodded, hooking his fingers and it felt so good you moaned quite loudly, hoping none of the engineers would be passing by your part of the building. He put a third finger in and the stretch was delicious as he pressed upwards again and flattened his tongue over your clit.

You could slowly feel an orgasm building and he felt you clench around his fingers, going slightly faster with both his hand and mouth.

"Oh god whatever you do, do not stop!" You panted above him as he used his other hand to hook a leg over his shoulder and he sat up a bit, changing your position slightly and making his fingers hit even deeper inside you.

"Fuck!" You clenched around his fingers as you came hard and he slowed down, helping you ride it out for a while before you had to physically push him off because he wanted to seemingly carry on forever.

"Geez Lo, give a girl a minute, yeah?" You laughed, a bit out of breath. You felt boneless as Logan started kissing his way up your body and finally sealed his mouth over yours. His face was sticky, and your hands went to his hair and pulled on it, making him groan into the kiss. You pulled his head back and he whined, his hips bucking against the sofa, searching for some relief. You lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Please" he panted. You glanced down.

"Need some help down there, soldier?"

He grinned, lopsided. "Sargeant, actually"

Oh yes, you were going to have some fun with this one.

[jayholdenworld]

Congratulations to all the carcar writers, you did the +300 fics possible.

[ricciardosheart]

Waves of Desires - Toto Wolff

Pairing - Toto Wolff X fem!reader!gf Warning - teeth rotting fluff, an age gap and some kissing nothing much

PHOTO CREDITS TO PINTEREST BUT I MADE THE COLLAGE

The golden hues of the setting sun spilled over the beach, painting everything in shades of orange and gold. (Y/n) stood near the shore, her red bikini shimmering softly in the light. Her beach curls cascaded down her shoulders, the salty breeze teasing a few strands across her face. She had borrowed Toto’s linen shirt earlier, and it now hung loosely over her, the fabric smelling faintly of him—warm, woodsy, and comforting.

Toto wasn’t far behind, wearing light blue and white shorts that emphasized his casual yet striking demeanor. A disposable camera hung from his hand, an almost whimsical addition that contrasted with his commanding presence. He watched her with a small, secret smile, admiring how effortlessly she blended with the natural beauty of the beach.

“Stay right there,” Toto said, raising the camera to his eye.

(Y/n) turned her head, startled. “Toto!” she laughed, her hands coming up to shield her face.

“Nope, don’t move,” he insisted with a smirk. “You look too perfect to let this moment pass.”

Reluctantly, she dropped her hands, her cheeks flushed with heat. “Fine, but I’m not posing.”

“Good,” he replied, snapping the picture. “You’re better like this. Just you.”

She rolled her eyes playfully but smiled all the same, walking toward him. “Do you always carry that camera?”

“Only when I know I’m going to be with you,” he teased, slipping the camera into his pocket.

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You’re full of lines today, aren’t you?”

“Just facts,” Toto said, his grin widening as he reached out, pulling her closer by the waist. “And here’s another fact: you’re absolutely stunning, and it’s driving me insane.”

She laughed, leaning her forehead against his chest. “You’re impossible.”

The waves lapped gently at their feet as they waded into the shallows. Toto splashed a little water at (y/n), earning a mock glare from her.

“Oh, you’re playing that game now?” she asked, bending to scoop water in her hands.

Toto held up his hands in surrender. “No, no—wait! Let’s not—”

Before he could finish, she sent a small wave of water splashing onto him. His shocked expression quickly melted into a mischievous grin. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

He lunged toward her, and she squealed, laughing as he swept her up effortlessly, spinning her around before lowering her gently into the water.

“Toto!” she gasped, smacking his arm lightly as she clung to him.

“Revenge,” he said smugly, his hands firm on her waist.

They stayed there for a while, laughing and splashing, their playful banter carrying over the sound of the waves. It felt like freedom—simple, joyful, and real.

Back on the shore, (y/n) sat cross-legged on a towel, munching on crisps from the snacks she had packed. Toto was a few feet away, meticulously building a sandcastle.

“Are you seriously ignoring me for a sandcastle?” she teased, tossing a crisp at him.

He caught it mid-air and popped it into his mouth, not breaking his focus. “This isn’t just a sandcastle. It’s architecture.”

“Of course, it is,” she replied, laughing.

Toto finally looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why is that guy staring at you?”

(Y/n) glanced around and shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe he’s wondering why you’re building a sandcastle instead of talking to your girlfriend.”

Toto dropped the handful of sand and moved over to her side, wrapping an arm protectively around her. “He’s not staring anymore,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She laughed, leaning into him. “Possessive much?”

“Just careful,” he said with a smirk, pulling her closer.

Later, they lay under the shade of their tent. (Y/n) was stretched out on the blanket, a copy of Bared to You by Sylvia Day in her hands. Toto lay on his stomach, his head resting on her abdomen. She absentmindedly played with his hair, her fingers threading through the dark strands as she read.

“What’s the book about?” Toto asked suddenly, his voice muffled against her skin.

(Y/n) froze, her cheeks heating up. “Um… nothing important.”

He turned his head slightly to look up at her, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Judging by the way you just blushed, I’m guessing it’s not nothing.”

“It’s just… a romance novel,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“Spicy romance?” he teased, his grin widening as he caught her expression.

“Toto!” she groaned, covering her face with the book.

He chuckled, shifting so he could press a kiss to her stomach. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?”

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, Toto pulled (y/n) toward the water’s edge. The waves lapped at their feet, cool against their warm skin.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “You’re too beautiful for your own good,” he said softly, his voice low and full of emotion.

(Y/n) smiled, her heart fluttering. “You’re too dramatic for your own good.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not dramatic. Just honest.”

Before she could respond, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss. It was soft at first, almost tentative, like he was savoring the moment. But then it deepened, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as the kiss grew more intense, the world around them fading into nothingness. The waves continued to crash, the breeze whispered through the air, but all she could feel was him—his warmth, his strength, the way he kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, he rested his forehead against hers. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

She smiled, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. “Good. It’s only fair.”

They stayed there, wrapped up in each other as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the world bathed in twilight. It was a moment neither of them would ever forget—a perfect memory etched in the sand and sealed with a kiss.

[neptunescore]

why is jenson and nico called PrincessCake? i'm assuming that princess refers to Nico

Yep, princess is nico, and like, we all know why. It's the same reason he was nicknamed Britney: he's pretty, and the drivers wanted to poke fun at him for it.

The cake part, though, it ALWAYS leaves my giggling. So basically, bfr jenson was starting his 200th gp they asked him whether getting a good result — in this race especially— mattered to him. For some reason, jenson took this question completely differently and just went on abt how much he loves cake😭😭

I genuinely can not make this up. My man said the word cake more than 10 times in one sentence, and he wouldn't STOP💀

Wait let me see if I can find the clip😝

Source

FOUND IT!!!

And there you have it! The origin story of princess cake😭

[gguk-n]

can you write lando norris x desi!reader!gf where they go back to celebrate ganesh chaturthi, and yn hosts ganapati bappa in her own house in india and its lando's first time pleaseee

Festive Hearts

Jalebi- dessert made of flour or flour and rice flour fried and dipped in sugar syrup. Kurta Pajama- Indian attire for men made of various material which includes a tunic and a loose fitting pant. Shalwar Kameez- Similar to Kurta Pajama but for women. Pooja- A Hindu ritual of worship.

I'm not an expert when it comes to this so please forgive me if there are any discrepancies

Lando and Y/N had been dating for a while now, long enough that her family knew about Lando, he was very well loved. That's how he ended up in India during Ganesh Chaturthi. Lando wasn't there on the day Ganapati Bappa was being brought into the house due to the race. He got there a few days before the immersion. Lando was like a kid in a candy store. Everything was bright and vibrant. The whole house was decorated in flowers and lights. There was always delicious and new food for him to eat. "Babe, my trainer's gonna hate me" he told his girlfriend while munching on his third jalebi. "These are delicious. Do you eat these every day?" he mumbled with food in his mouth. "No, Lan, no one eats these every day." she laughed. "Your mum keeps handing them to me, I don't know how to say no." he looked at her apologetically. Y/N called her mum out to stop feeding her boyfriend.

There were a lot of Formula One fans in Y/N's home town which meant Lando got recognised and asked for pictures and autographs. Y/N's family was the one hosting Ganapati Bappa this year in their community. So, there was always a crowd of people going in and out of the house, and now Lando brought another crowd along too. But he wasn't complaining, he wanted to get to know the people that got to see his love grow up.

On the day of the immersion, Lando was dressed in a white crisp Kurta Pajama and his girlfriend wore shalwar kameez. The family had woken up early and were busy in preparation since the auspicious time was during the mid-day. Lando could see his girlfriend running around trying to get the things ready for the ritual. Y/N's dad handed Lando some flowers and desserts for offering and asked him to put it away. There was this energy that was running through everyone's veins as the time drew closer. A sense of emotions over took them, it was like watching your family leave for some time.

There would a huge procession leaving with Ganapati Bappa after the Pooja. There would be songs and people would dance along the way from the house to the sea, where Ganapati Bappa would be immersed in the water. Y/N's siblings took Lando along with them to dance. Y/N had only seen Lando dance in clubs and now she could see him dance along with her siblings, learning as he went. It was a beautiful sight with Ganapati Bappa over looking everyone as they partook in the celebrations. "He's a keeper" her mother said. Y/N jumped from surprise. "When did you get here?" she asked. "Just now" her mother replied fondly looking at Lando. "He has really been trying since he got here" her mother spoke more to herself. "To get everyone to like him." she hummed. "Do you like him?" Y/N asked expectantly. "We liked him when you said you loved him" her mother replied. Y/N smiled at her mother and decided to join everyone in the celebrations.

After everything was done, and everyone returned; the house in disarray. Her mother started cleaning up while the others joined. Finally, Lando laid on the cot in the courtyard exhausted from the day's events. Y/N sat near his head playing with his hair. "Do you guys do this every year?" he asked looking up; "yup" she replied. "This is so much fun but I've never been more exhausted in my life and I've driven in Singapore." he chuckled. "You'll get used to it" she hummed, checking around before pressing a kiss to Lando's lips. "Spiderman kiss" Lando mumbled as he placed his hand on her neck pulled her closer. Y/N's mum coughed making the pair pull away, a blush visible on their cheeks. "I get you two love each other, but there's still some cleaning left" she said while the two whined and Y/N got up to help her mum. "Rest for some time and then join me" she told Lando before pecking his cheek and walking away.

Sorry this was short, I felt kind of lost.

[bunny-jpeg]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . baby fever - lando n . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

lando wanted a baby. lando wanted to stuff that pretty cunt full of his cum and tilt your hips in a way that none of it leaked out. he wanted it filled, stuffed, crammed in there. he didn't want a single bit of it wasted. if he had keep a toy between those soft legs of yours to keep it in you. it all had to take, right? and lando knew that you were a good girl for him. so get that biology to work and make him a baby. the thought of it excited him as he walked around the paddock, it was like a buzz in his brain, the need to corner his love and stuff you full of what is his. he knew after his race, he'd have you spread out on the bed, with your soft thighs around his waist as he fucked into you. his large hands groping your breasts as he watched you melted on his cock. he loved you with your heels to your head, arms hooked under your knees to give him the perfect angle to fuck into you. eyeing your beautiful body as he bruised your sweet insides.

he can already picture you with the cute bump, he wondered how your body would change during the pregnancy. his large rough hand across your prominent bump. the two of you raising them. you'd be such a good mama, a much better life than whatever you got your university degree in. a real proper wag for him. now that excited him, sometimes his cock drooled pre-cum in his boxers when his thoughts lingered on you. but he'd rarely masturbate, he believed that if he didn't then there would be more to spill inside of you. to push up into your soft little womb and make him a father. he was a pervert for you, he made sure he got you into positions that sated his need to breed you. he watched you get dumber and dumber as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. there was no running and there was no hiding. afterwards he'd kiss your head and pray. let it work, all it needed to do was work once.

lando was a focused driver, when he got his mind on something he saw it through to the end. so was he on his phone figuring out how to slip you fertility drugs? yes. did that make him a bad partner? no. he knew that it would be best for both of you. he made more than enough to support a growing family, so let him mix some of the crushed up pills into your dinner over the summer break. he wanted to see that baby fat on your hips, something to squeeze was he fucked you. you'd be forever marked by him. your body changed because of his actions. maybe focused wasn't the word he should be using, maybe it should be obsessive.

he was obsessive when he rutted into you like a dog. his cock hitting all your sweet spots. his mouth hung open as he moved against you, some spit dripping off his tongue and into your mouth. the sight of you swallowing it only drove his crazy. it made him move against your harder, move you into positions where he could go deeper. you were perfect, an angel from heaven sent to give him everything he desired. you were the woman for him, and he was going to cement that fact by making sure there was a baby in your belly. it all sent excitement through him like a wire as he finished inside of you. but as he got you on your knees, he knew that he wasn't finished yet. even went as far as to finger your cum soaked pussy while he jerked his slick cock off to get hard again. you stay under him, beautiful, you looked prettier there.

but all of his actions saw the results that he hoped for. it took several months, but now you were at the pool near your shared home with a slight curve in your middle and a lando norris who was like your shadow. you were having a baby girl and lando couldn't have been happier. he assured you with his large hands on your growing middle that she'll take after you. and while you kissed him on the lounging chair you were on, the wheels in lando's head were turning.

after your had your daughter, he was going to try for a son as well. <3

a/n: haha lando, you can't do that!