#charles leclerc x reader

[itaipava]

— f1 boys falling asleep on you.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

trying to sleep at an ungodly hour after returning home from a night out; still feeling giddy from the rush and excitement of the night as you both get ready for bed. he hugs you from behind and rests his head on your shoulder as you brush your teeth, almost falling asleep right there. after you’re done, you crawl into bed together, saying “goodnight” for the thousandth time, but neither of you closing your eyes as you gaze happily at each other with soft giggles and bright smiles amidst yawns. sleepy and a little tipsy, but too in love with the moment and each other to want to fall asleep, but inevitably doing so with happy sighs as he pulls you closer to him, with his face in your neck and intertwining your legs.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

he always says he wants to do a lot of things with you when he gets home to make up for the time he was gone, but as soon as you settle in to watch that new movie you were looking forward to watch, he falls asleep. you look at him and smile, gently placing his head on your lap. you stroke his hair as he sleeps peacefully. but he ends up waking up in the middle of the movie, and starts asking questions like "what happened to him?" while lazily pointing at the character and, as soon as you finish talking, he dozes off again, even though he promised himself that he would stay awake.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

you woke up early, but you didn't want to disturb his sleep, so you tried to get out of bed as quietly as possible. you sat up and stretched, but before you could actually get up, you felt his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. you smiled, and tried to tell him that you needed to get up, but he was too busy using your lap as a pillow to even hear you.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he had been trying to sleep alone for a long time, but he couldn't even with the gentle sound of the rain outside. you open the bedroom door and he smiles when he sees you; he lifts the blanket next to him, a silent invitation for you to go lie down with him. you smile and lie down, silently he pulls you to him, holding you lovingly. you stroke his hair and he closes his eyes, enjoying your affection and the warmth of your body. and when you least expect it, he is in a deep sleep while holding you.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

you were lying together on the couch in the living room, savoring the warmth and the cool breezes that came in through the sunny window; you admired how the sunlight fell beautifully on each other's features as he held you close to him. there was soft music playing in the background as you hummed along to the melody or said things like "oh, i love this song!" which always made him smile. wordless but meaningful looks of "i love you" to each other. suddenly he stopped running his fingertips over your body and, looking at his face, you saw that he fell asleep holding you, feeling safer than ever.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

you and him love to talk before bed; it’s an unspoken routine in your relationship. you talk about your days, your thoughts, your worries, about that squirrel you saw on the street, anything and everything; your voices only slightly above whisper, trying not to disturb the quietness of the night but failing to do so when laughter comes over you both. he hugged your waist and put his face in your neck while you spoke, but at a certain point you felt his heavy breathing and, when you looked at him, you saw him sleeping. you smiled affectionately and gave him a kiss on the corner of his mouth, which made him pull you even closer to him.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

after he takes you to a great restaurant in the city, you arrive home and rest on the couch while talking about anything that comes to mind. he sighs deeply, and puts his head on your shoulder, looking at his face, you notice how sleepy he is when the food coma kicks in. you smile, and pull him closer to you, and that's when he settles down next to you on the couch, holding you tightly against him as he lets sleep take over.

˒ ⌕ FRANCO COLAPINTO

he comes home absolutely exhausted after a long training session. after a hot shower, he lies on top of you, hugs your waist and puts his face in your neck, feeling your warmth and your scent. at that moment, he feels like he is in heaven. you gently stroke his back while asking him how his day was, but he is so tired that he just mumbles something softly and falls asleep on you.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

you woke up earlier than usual, and you couldn’t fall asleep again but you didn’t want to leave his side; quiet moments with him are so rare, so you wanted to make the most of them. he also wakes up, but only to pull you towards him even more, using you as a pillow. you smile and stroke his hair, which makes him sigh and fall asleep again, without a care in the world.

[amirasainz]

So I read a lot of stories similar to my requests. But I just think you are the best author on tumblr, so I wanna ask you😅☺️

Secret marriage with Oscar. They married really young and the drivers reaction. She is always at the races, but just in the shadows. The only one that knows is Charles, because he is Oscars "dad" 😭😍

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Secret marriage

The F1 paddock buzzed with the usual energy and tension. The race weekend was in full swing, and every driver, mechanic, and team member was focused on the task ahead. It was Friday afternoon, and most of the drivers had just finished media sessions and were now lounging around in the driver's hospitality suite, swapping stories and strategies. Oscar was among them, scrolling through his phone with a relaxed expression.

Nearby, Lando noticed a familiar face in the crowd. A woman, sleek and stylish, with a British Vogue ID around her neck, had been lingering around Oscar’s side of the paddock all day, chatting with him occasionally before darting off to interview other drivers. Lando squinted, intrigued.

“Oi, Oscar,” Lando called out, leaning back in his seat. “Who's that Vogue chick? She’s been following you around like a shadow.”

Oscar glanced up from his phone, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Who, Y/N? She’s just here for work. We know each other pretty well.”

George, who overheard the conversation, raised an eyebrow. “Pretty well? Mate, you guys looked like you were practically whispering sweet nothings before she left the garage.”

Oscar shrugged, but his eyes glinted with mischief. “Maybe we were.”

Lando sat up, fully interested now. “Wait… what? Are you and Miss Vogue dating?”

Oscar chuckled, keeping his cool. “Not exactly.”

Pierre, catching onto the conversation, leaned forward. “Come on, spill the beans! There’s definitely something going on.”

Oscar finally sighed, looking up at his friends with an amused smirk. “Well… actually, Y/N and I… we’re married.”

The room fell silent.

George blinked. “You’re what?”

“Married,” Oscar repeated, his tone casual as ever. “Been married since we turned eighteen, actually.”

The explosion was immediate. Lando gasped, practically jumping out of his seat, while Pierre clapped a hand over his mouth in shock.

“No way!” Lando exclaimed. “You’ve been married this whole time?”

Oscar nodded, barely reacting to the chaos unfolding around him. “Yep. Just never made a big deal out of it.”

“You’re telling me,” George said, his voice high-pitched with disbelief, “that you’ve been secretly married for… what? Three years now?”

“Three and a half, actually,” Oscar replied calmly, clearly enjoying their reactions. “We wanted to keep it private. Just worked out that way.”

Pierre looked like he was about to faint. “Mate, do you realize we never even knew you had a girlfriend, let alone a wife?”

Oscar gave a little shrug. “Guess I’m good at keeping secrets.”

George put his hands on his head. “I thought I was the reserved one around here! But this? Oscar, this is next level. How did we never catch on?”

Oscar chuckled, glancing over at Y/N, who was currently chatting with a journalist a few feet away. “She’s at most of the races. Just… behind the scenes.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Pierre muttered, shaking his head in amazement.

Just then, Charles strolled into the room, looking curious as he caught the tail end of the conversation. “What’s everyone freaking out about?”

Lando grinned, looking ready to explode with excitement. “Charles, you’re not gonna believe this. Oscar’s married! Secretly married, since he was eighteen.”

Charles’s reaction was far more subdued. He simply nodded, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “Ah, yes. I know about Y/N.”

The room went silent again as every driver turned to gape at Charles.

“You knew?” George demanded, wide-eyed.

Charles gave them a smug shrug. “Of course. I’ve known for ages. I’m Oscar’s ‘dad,’ remember?” He winked, referencing the Monaco joke that had become a running gag between them. “It’s my job to know these things.”

Oscar snorted, smirking over at Charles. “Guess you can’t keep secrets from your ‘Monaco dad.’”

Lando threw his hands up in the air. “You’re all insane! Charles knows, Oscar’s been married for years, and we’ve all been left out!”

Pierre shook his head, still processing. “Wait, how did you find out, Charles?”

Charles leaned back, crossing his arms with a grin. “Oscar told me after our Monaco podium. Said he needed someone to know in case he ever needed advice. Before we went partying, I met Y/N and let me tell you, she is a lovely girl. And, you know, as his ‘father’ in the paddock, it was only a matter of time.” He gestured grandly, making everyone laugh.

George narrowed his eyes playfully. “So all this time, we could’ve been calling him ‘married man Oscar’ instead of ‘little Oscar’?”

Oscar rolled his eyes, amused. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly a talking point. We wanted to keep things between us. Y/N’s work with Vogue keeps her busy and traveling too, so it worked out.”

Oscar turned his head towards Y/N, calling out softly with his arm outstretched. " Love, came here for a second, please."

Y/N approached just then, noticing the group staring at her with a mix of shock and admiration. “Is everything okay?”

Pierre looked at her, still in awe. “So… you two are really married?”

She glanced at Oscar with a smile, nodding. “Surprise?”

Lando leaned in, grinning like a kid at Christmas. “How have you kept this a secret all this time? You must have some insane spy-level skills.”

Y/N laughed. “I wouldn’t say that. We just wanted to enjoy it without all the attention.”

“Respect,” George said, tipping an imaginary hat to her. “You two might be the most low-key power couple I’ve ever seen.”

Charles looked proud, wrapping an arm around Oscar’s shoulder. “That’s my boy.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, shoving Charles off. “Alright, alright, let’s not make a big thing out of it.”

Lando looked at Oscar, eyes still gleaming. “Mate, this is a big thing! You’ve been living like some kind of undercover superhero. ‘Married Piastri’ is a whole new level of cool.”

Pierre nodded eagerly. “Right? It’s like finding out Clark Kent was Superman all along.”

Oscar chuckled, clearly enjoying his friends’ reactions. “Well, maybe now that you guys know, I’ll bring her around a bit more.”

Lando lit up. “Please! And maybe you can finally get that double date with George and Carmen going!”

George chuckled. “Right, because that’s exactly what we need. A bunch of drivers swapping marriage advice.”

Pierre smirked, nudging Oscar. “You’re making the rest of us look bad, you know. Now everyone’s gonna ask why we’re not secretly married.”

Oscar smirked back. “Hey, don’t blame me. You all had just as much chance to find out as Charles.”

As the group laughed, Y/N leaned into Oscar’s side, whispering, “Well, I guess the secret’s out.”

Oscar grinned, wrapping an arm around her. “Guess so. But I don’t mind. Not if it means we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

Charles rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, alright. Now, can we get back to racing, or are you going to give us a honeymoon slideshow too?”

The group burst into laughter, and Oscar looked around, more comfortable than ever. His secret was out, but he couldn’t be happier to finally share it with his friends.

[no-144444]

The Grid! : When their teammate likes you...

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: somehow plays it cool…

Oscar understood that you were a magnetic person. You’d always been more extroverted than him, always been a bit more open to other people, and generally, you were just interesting. He got where Lando was coming from, to be fair, he’d fallen for you too. 

But openly flirting with you in the middle of a red flag during one of the most dangerous races of the season? That took a certain asshole. 

Lando Norris. 

Oscar had looked up to Lando throughout his career, and now having him as his teammate was brilliant. He loved it, up to a point. In recent months he’d been noticing the way Lando looked at you. The way he talked to you. The way he always wanted to be around you. 

“Hey baby,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around Oscar as he walked up. “Doing well out there.”

He also knew that you were less than interested in Lando. Not that you didn’t like him, but you did find him slightly immature and ridiculous, especially with how he handles races and media afterwards. You much preferred Oscar’s style of driving, and his way of speaking. 

Oscar nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He watched as Lando’s face fell, then he quickly picked it back up. “Doing our best, right Lando?”

You both looked to Lando, who looked guilty, like he’d been caught. 

“Yeah mate,” he agreed before walking off. 

“Jealous much?” you smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Oscar shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Just wanted a kiss, that’s all.”

“From me or Lando?” you teased.

“You, obviously,” he mocked. 

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Lando Norris: deeply insecure. 

Lando is insecure about a lot of things. One of his main ones is his worth as a human, and a driver. It hit him hard when Oscar got to stand on the top step of a podium before he ever had. He knew it was a matter of circumstance and the fact that the car was getting better, but it still hurt. Yet, you were always there to pick up the pieces. His sweet, kind girlfriend who was always there for him. 

That same girlfriend that was laughing at a joke Oscar told. Oscar wasn’t funny. Oscar has never been funny. 

Lando watched as you two talked. He watched the way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you engaged with his points and added your own. The way you two easily laughed, joked, and teased each other without ever going too far. 

He couldn’t help but feel… without. You had always been more introverted, and your extroverted side always seemed to come out with other introverts, aka, not Lando. Then began his spiralling of wondering whether or not he was good enough for you. He knew you loved him, and he loved you, but would that be enough? When you’re so different? When he can’t give you what Oscar can? Oscar was a 2-time-Gp winner in his second year. Oscar was more similar to you than Lando was. Oscar’s personality was closer to yours than Lando’s was. 

Was he enough for you?

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He walked into the hotel room, exhausted, and glad that the day was over. Media days took it out of him, and he was sick of watching Oscar’s smug face as he charmed you all day. 

You flung yourself on the bed, exhausted. “Oscar would not shut up today, would he?” you sighed. 

Lando’s lips quirked up into a smile. He turned to hide it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He kept talking to me about random shit, and I had to pretend to be interested all day.”

Lando almost laughed. “You don’t seem to mind when I talk your ear off.” 

“Yeah, obviously not,” you scoffed, looking at him as if it were obvious. “I like your rants. You don’t expect me to answer you all the time. You just let me listen. Plus, I love your voice.”

Lando’s heart felt fuller than it did before. You picked him. You loved him. 

“You like my voice, eh?” he smirked, joining you on the bed. He pressed soft kisses to your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. “I know a way you can hear it-”

“Lando, did I not just say I’m exhausted,” you chuckled, playfully pushing him off. 

He smiled. You truly were perfect. 

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Lewis Hamilton: unbothered 

He watched as George attempted to flirt with you and laughed. You laughed too, thinking it was a joke. George walked off, embarrassed. 

Lewis walked over and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “George is-”

“Pathetic?” he offered and you shook your head. 

“Don’t be so mean!” you scolded. 

“He’s a big boy, he can take it,” he smirked. “And anyways, what was he thinking?”

“I am your wife,” you nodded, agreeing. “But he is pretty cute…”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” he teased. 

You laughed. “Never.” 

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George Russell: trusts you

“Lewis, nice to meet you,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n Russell.”

“Y/n… your sister?” Lewis turned to George, smirking. “I didn’t realise she was so pretty, I guess someone had to take all the beauty genes.”

“She’s my wife,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist. “And yes, she is gorgeous.”

You somehow kept it together as Lewis apologised and walked off, but immediately broke out into laughter as he turned his back. 

“What a dick,” George chuckled. “You alright?”

“All good baby,” you giggled. “A bit weirded out that he thought we were siblings.”

George nodded, grimacing. “I vote we never speak about this again.”

“I second that,” you nodded. 

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Kimi Antonelli: confused more than anything

Ollie was a really nice guy, one of Kimi’s best friends despite only knowing each other for a year. He was a good teammate and a good friend. 

Kimi was clueless. He didn’t always understand what people meant when people ‘flirted’, to be fair, English was his second language. He watched as Ollie wrapped an arm around you, resting it over your shoulder as you grimaced, clearly wanting him to stop. Kimi just shrugged, assuming you’d just push him off or ask him to stop. You weren’t exactly known to put up with shit like that, so he wasn’t worried. You three walked around the Monaco bay, looking at the boats as the sun set, all three of you full from dinner. When you finally parted ways, you and Kimi went back to your hotel room as Ollie stayed out, going to Arthur’s house to visit, you sighed as you lay down. 

“What did you think of Ollie?” Kimi asked, laying beside you, your back to him. 

“Apart from his obvious flirting, I thought he was nice, I guess,” you shrugged. 

Kimi frowned. “What do you mean?”

You turned around to see him. “Him flirting? Yeah, I thought you’d say something about it,” you explained. “He was kind of… weird about it.”

“Did he make you uncomfortable?” he asked, upset with himself that he hadn't noticed. 

You stared at him with an inquisitive look, he really was oblivious. “Of course he did.”

“What?” he questioned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to make a bad impression,” you muttered. “He’s your best friend.”

“And you’re my girlfriend,” he reminded you, taking your hand. “And you are more important. If someone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me and I will deal with it, alright?”

You nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his hand. “Thanks Kimi.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. 

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Alex Albon: slightly insecure…

He sat in his drivers room, he’d just filmed Team Torque with you and Logan, and he couldn’t help but feel… left out. You were American, specifically from the exact state of Florida, where Logan was from, you lived on the same street. You’d grown up together before he left to move to do European single-seaters. The entire episode was just you two talking and reminiscing over your joint experiences as a kid. Logan remembered everything about you, your favourite colour, your favourite food, even your favourite childhood movie (which Alex had gotten wrong). 

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, sitting beside him. “You’re not talking.”

“I didn’t know you and Logan were such good friends,” he admitted. 

You shrugged. “We grew up together.” 

“I know,” he responded, his voice low and hardened. “I didn’t know he’d remember everything about you.”

“I mean, people told me he had a crush on me in middle school so…” you trailed off when you noticed how Alex was closing his eyes and nodding. “Are you… jealous, or something?”

“No.” Yes. 

You smiled, feeling a little bit guilty. “Alex, you don’t have to be jealous,” you assured him. “I love you. More than anything.”

The pain in his chest eased slightly. “You’re sure?”

“Very,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

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Franco Colapinto: doesn’t even notice or gaf

Alex laughed at one of your jokes as Franco looked over some of the data from his crash. After a while, you walked over, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind. 

“Hi bebé,” he smiled, tired, but happy to see you. “How are you?”

You groaned. “Alex keeps flirting with me.”

His ears pricked up hearing you say that. “Alex?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. He turned to you. 

“Should I ask him to stop? I can talk to him-”

“It’s alright, I made him aware of the fact that I’m not interested,” you explained. 

“Oh, alright,” he shrugged. “Once you’re happy.”

He went back to looking over the data and you frowned. No reaction? No possessiveness?

“You don’t mind?” you questioned. 

“That he was flirting with you?” he asked, you nodded. “No, not really. I’m the one you’ve chosen for 3 years. We love each other, sí?” 

You nodded. 

“So we’re fine,” he smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

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Logan Sargeant: also a bit upset…

He sighed as he watched Alex chat to you, a smirk on his face. You were his girlfriend, Alex couldn’t have you. Alex had James, Alex had Williams, Alex had the talent. Logan had you. Alex couldn’t have you. 

You glanced back at Logan, who had grown quieter in recent moments, and you frowned. His eyes were blown up, wide-eyed, mouth open, and his mind was thousands of miles away. You politely ended the conversation with Alex, dragging Logan back into his driver's room with a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, trying to play it off. “I”m fine, just… tired.”

You frowned again. “Logan, you can talk to me.” 

He shook his head, his hands gripping your waist, then the dam broke and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you if I lose this.”

Your heart broke. “Logan you’d-“

“No, please just let me talk,” he whispered. “I love you, more than anything. We both know I’m getting replaced either after or during this season,” hearing him say it as such a definite, hurt you. You knew how badly Williams had messed him up, but to hear him so defeated? You could’ve cried. “And I don’t want to lose you if I lose all of this. I love racing, but I love you more. You’ve been here through everything, always. You’re always here for me, and I just hope I haven’t fucked this whole relationship up with all my mental health stuff and being a bad driver-”

“Logan,” your tone was stern. “I love you. I love you, my Logan. I support ‘F1 driver Logan Sargeant’, and you’ll always be that, but I love Logan Sargeant, the boy who asked me out when I was 14 and never looked back, the boy who has made me feel loved and supported since that day, the boy who fought an uphill battle and is only now realising he’s allowed to let the boulder fall. I love that you’re a fighter. I love that you’re a driver. But I love most that you care about and love me. I care more about your mental health than any money or fame you could ever gain. I’m not asking you to keep putting yourself through this, Logan. I want you to be healthy and happy. I want you to smile again. I want to see the real you again.”

“What is the real me if I’m not winning?” his voice was just below a whisper. 

“You get to figure that out,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now please look at me Logan, so you know that I’m telling the truth.”

He raised his head, his eyes watery as he looked at yours, and for the first time in a while, he actually felt like it might all be ok. 

Granted, only when he was with you, but alright all the same. 

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Daniel Riccardo: freaky wit it

Daniel gripped his steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white under his gloves. He was in the car, meant to be in the zone, but all he could think about was the way that Yuki had a hand on your back. He knew Yuki definitely wasn’t a threat to him or his relationship, but it still felt shitty not being able to get over there and show him that you were his. 

He rushed out of the car, exhausted after bringing the VCarb in Q3 yet again, and immediately his hands were on you. 

“Looking so good today baby,” he whispered between kisses. “So fuckin’ pretty for me.”

You groaned against his lips, smiling. “Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah baby, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he smirked as he pushed a hand into your underwear. Your eyes went wide and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loud. You weren’t even in his drivers room, you were doing it against Yuki’s door in the hallway. 

“We should-fuck- we should go to your r-room,” you stuttered out as he rubbed your clit in lazy circles. 

“Why?” he smirked. “When I could have you right here and now,” he punctuated every word with a kiss, moving your hand and swallowing your moans as he sped up. “So fuckin’ beautiful so me.”

“Dan,” you moaned as he finally pushed a finger in. 

“So wet for me too. You like doing it like this? Where anyone could hear you? Anyone could see us?” he knew his words were falling on deaf ears as he revelled in the fact that he got to watch you fall apart for him. He got to make you cum, he got to kiss you, he heard every laugh, saw every part of you and your personality. It was him who you picked to love, and be loved in return. 

And by God, he wouldn’t trade you for the world. 

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Liam Lawson: angry sex anyone???

Liam grabbed your hand, pulling you into his drivers room after he had watched Yuki give you heart-eyes yet again. 

“That fucking dick,” he seethed, pressing his body against yours, pressing kisses up and down your neck. “Always fuckin’ wants what’s mine.” 

“Liam,” you whimpered as he pushed you down on the bed. “Please.”

Any and all control of himself was abandoned, and he pulled his race suit off, watching as you pulled off your dress. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he cursed, climbing on top of you as he smirked. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slowly pushed inside you. It burned, in the best way. “All yours.”

He smiled. “That’s my girl, taking me so well.”

Once he was fully inside and you were comfortable, he was thrusting in and out of you at a rate previously unknown to Liam. Did he like fast and rough sex? Yes. Was it ever this fast? No. Was it ever this rough? … no comment. He was grabbing and smacking all over your ass and tits, you were too busy gripping onto his hair as he used you how he pleased, all the while cursing out Yuki and praising you. 

You both left the driver’s room a little bit less steady than before, but much more satisfied than going in. Liam felt better too, since he’d given you something to show just how much he meant it when he said he was yours, and you were his. That something stayed dripping down your leg as Liam finished the race, ahead of Yuki. 

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Charles LeClerc: death?

He watched, the light in his eyes slowly dying, as you spoke animatedly to Carlos. 

Carlos Sainz, now number one enemy of Charles LeClerc. 

Honestly, he knew you’d never choose anyone over him, you loved him and he knew that. Still, some voice inside of him continued to urge him to run over to you two and scream ‘mine’ and then run off with you. He didn’t, obviously. He knew you would’ve been mad at him if he did. 

As the day continued, you stayed talking to Carlos, every so often, Charles would interject with a sarcastic comment, or some stupid fact about you, then following it up with ‘yeah, I know more than you’. It turned the two of them into school children. Both of them coming to you at different times of the day with random facts about random things, until you finally told them both to stop and share their love of facts with each other, not you. You had gotten so frustrated with the two of them, that you didn’t even want to speak to Charles. 

They both stopped after that. 

Any time Charles was jealous after that palaver? Yeah, he just stuck with the regular PDA overload. He didn’t want to deal with another sex ban. 

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Carlos Sainz: also freaky wit it

His gaze darkened as he watched Charles put a hand on your shoulder. Bullshit. You were his girlfriend. You were his. 

“Querida, stop fucking with me,” he demanded, a tight hold on your arm as he dragged you into his hotel room, 30 minutes later. 

You scoffed. “I’m shockingly not fucking with you at all,” you smiled, annoyed but unsurprised at his shitty behaviour. “In fact, I was being perfectly nice to everyone, including you, all night.”

He watched as you sat on the bed, exasperated and tired of his behaviour. He noticed how you quickly pulled off your heel, took down your hair and sighed, staring at him. 

“What?” you asked. “What did I do now?”

Part of him left bad, it wasn’t your fault that you were irresistible. It wasn’t your fault that Charles thought he could have whatever he wanted. It wasn’t your fault that you had to be kind, just to keep up appearances. It still made his blood boil, but he did appreciate the fact that it wasn’t technically your fault. 

But someone had to help him get rid of all of this pent up tension. 

“On your knees,” he spoke, his voice low and laced with desire. Your eyes widened, but you did as he said anyway and sank down to your knees in front of him, “It’s going to be a long night, querida. I can’t wait to see your pretty makeup smudged,” he smiled sadistically as you tried to not be as turned on as you were. 

I guess you two were a match made in heaven, or maybe hell. 

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Arthur LeClerc: plays his jealousy off… (not)

He grabbed a handful of your ass, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to yours as you yelped. You had been unsuspecting as you leaned over the guest barrier, trying to hear what Manuel was saying to you, when Arthur had caught his other teammate, Charles, staring at you with a smirk. 

You shoved him off after a few seconds and stared at him, waiting for an explanation. 

He shrugged. “Je voulais t'embrasser,” (I wanted to kiss you). “Is that a crime?”

“When you’re doing it like that, yes,” you chuckled, amused by his jealousy. 

“What?’ he smirked. “You don’t like it?” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “Arthur LeClerc,” your tone was warning. “Don’t push it,” you leaned in closer, whispering. “Tout le monde n'est pas aussi obsédé par moi que toi, arrête d'être jaloux.” (Not everyone is as obsessed with me as you, stop being jealous).

He laughed. “Tu es irrésistible,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “I cannot help it!” You gave him the finger as he walked away, and he blew you a kiss.

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Ollie Bearman: a bit upset…

He literally hit his head against the desk as he watched Kimi flash you his signature smile. He was sick of it. You were his girlfriend, not Kimi's best friend. You were his girlfriend. Alas, he couldn’t exactly whisk you away, you were his race engineer after all, and this was a strategy meeting, so he sucked it up and paid attention, trying not to look at you. 

You’d noticed how low Ollie had been all day and caught up with him as you walked out of the strategy meeting. “You alright?” you asked, wrapping one his arms around your shoulders as you walked beside him, away from the rest of the group. 

“I’m alright,” he lied, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on his lips. You frowned. 

“Please talk to me,” you begged. “I don’t like it when you shut me out.”

He sighed. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” you smiled. “I’m sure it’s not Ollie, just talk to me.”

“I don’t like how close Kimi is to you,” he admitted. “I’m… It makes me jealous sometimes.”

Your face softened. “So I’ll put some distance,” you shrugged. “Easy.”

He did a double-take. “N-no I- you don’t have to do-”

“Ollie. I want us to work, and if that means I have to ask Kimi to back off a little bit, then I’ll do it, yeah?”

Ollie nodded. “I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Bearman,” you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your lips to his. 

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Max Verstappen: ummm guys???

Max would be an insufferable child. He would literally hide their gloves and racing shoes, he would put dish-soap in their bottle, he’d somehow fuck up their laundry, and all because they looked at you too long. You were his, why would anyone else think you were available. 

There he was, on live, racing with his team, when you came over with another can of redbull for him. He’d been focused on the game, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of his teammate, Luke’s stream. He saw him checking you out. 

He saw red. 

“Luke, do you need something or do you just like staring at my girlfriend?” he scoffed and you groaned. He wasn’t unknown to make scenes in public. 

“Max,” you groaned. “Please don’t.”

He rolled his eyes and settled for a kiss on the cheek while Luke just blushed. Max understood where he was coming from, you were fucking gorgeous. That still didn’t make it right though. 

Again, a little while later, he caught Luke staring at you as you sat in the back of his set up, watching the race silently. 

“Seriously Luke, do I need to turn off my camera or can you act like an adult and keep it in your pants?” He scoffed. “Het is onzin,”(it’s bullshit) he sighed.

“Max, calm down,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, muting his mic. “Who gives a fuck about Luke?”

He groaned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he admitted. 

“I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright,” you smiled, kissing him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled, then went back to his racing, though he did push Luke off the track (in the game) a few (7) times. 

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Paul Aron: he trusts you. 

He sighed, watching Armaury place a hand on your waist. Was he losing you?

Then he smiled as he watched you shove him off, shouting in his face. You were a big girl, you could handle yourself. You didn’t always need Paul to come in and protect you, he loved that about you. He felt his sense of pride growing as you walked over, still shouting at his teammate who was looking increasingly guilty and uncomfortable, even more so when you ran over to Paul and kissed him right there and then, in front of everyone. 

Yeah, he really had nothing to worry about. 

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Lance Stroll: mf he is scary. 

Lance smirked as he watched James (a friend of his) wrap an arm around your waist as you danced with a couple friends. Your face screwed up into one of disgust, and you politely excused yourself to get another drink. James sauntered over to Lance, a smug smile on his face. 

“Might want to keep your lady on a tighter leash,” he smirked. 

“Oh yeah?” Lance cocked an eyebrow. 

“Yeah man, she was dancing all over me!” he chuckled. “Seriously, I’d steal if she wasn’t such a-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he told him, his tone dangerous. “My girlfriend is exactly that, my girlfriend. If you want to go dance with her and make her uncomfortable, that’s your prerogative, but don’t be surprised when I punch you for it.”

His ‘friend’ left quickly after that. He didn’t bother you again. 

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Jack Doohan: maybe a bit angry…

He scoffed as he watched Pierre try yet another pick-up line on you and he felt himself get even angrier. Yes, he was the new guy. Yes, he should definitely bite his tongue and suck it up. Did he do that? No…

He went over to you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your head as Pierre’s face fell into a frown. 

“Oh, you two are-!” He started.

“Together? Yeah. 3 years, right babe?” He smiled, a little too smiley for regular Jack.

“3 years, sounds right,” you nodded. “Nice to meet you Pierre,” you smiled before walking off, away from the two of them. Jack followed behind you and you sighed. “You’re an idiot.”

“It’s not my fault I have a hot girlfriend,” he defended. 

“It’s not my fault I’m the hot girlfriend!” You laughed. “Just… keep your jealousy to yourself in the future!”

He grabbed onto your waist a pleading look in his eye. “But you make it so hard…”

“Don’t give me ‘fuck me’ eyes right now Jack Doohan,” you scoffed, pushing him off. “You are such a child.”

He chuckled, happy with himself. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[23victoria]

promise ring

ꨄ༊*·˚ pairings: 𝐟𝟏 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 𝟏.𝟒𝐤

ꨄ༊*·˚ synopsis: 𝐟𝟏 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫

authors note: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦�� 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬, 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭! 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!! 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, & 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!!

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭?! CLICK HERE!

ꨄ༊*·˚ F1 MASTERLIST

Lewis

When you see the box in Lewis's hands, your heart skips. It's not the first time he’s given you a piece of jewelry, but there’s something special about his expression today, as if he’s slightly nervous.

The ring itself is a slender band in rose gold with a small gem in the middle—your birthstone, of course. His fingers are steady as he slides it onto your finger, his gaze never leaving your face.

“A ring?” You tease with a smirk, trying to hide just how thrilled you feel. “You know the next level is when the ring goes on the other hand.”

Lewis chuckles, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, “I had to do it, babe. Can’t have you out here without something to show for it. It's a reminder that you’re my girl, no one else’s.”

You laugh, and he pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “Get used to it, alright? I like the way it looks on you. One day… well, I hope you’ll want to wear something like this on your left hand too.”

The sincerity in his tone has you speechless for a moment, but he fills the silence with a soft kiss that promises, someday, he’ll be slipping a different ring on a different finger.

Charles

Charles is an expert at making your heart race, but today, he’s managed to surprise you in the best way. With a shy, slightly bashful grin, he holds up a tiny box that you’d noticed earlier but didn’t think much of.

Opening it reveals a dainty silver band set with a small sapphire. The sight makes you gasp softly—it’s elegant, just like him, but also endearingly thoughtful.

“You know a ring usually comes with the next relationship level,” you say, giving him a playful nudge.

His cheeks tint a soft red, but he grins, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, mon amour, I wanted to give you something to get used to. I know I might be getting ahead of myself, but…I already feel like I’m yours forever.”

His thumb brushes over the ring on your hand as he continues, “Plus, this way, people will know you’re not available. You’re mine, and I’m yours. I need everyone else to know that, too.”

With a grin, he pulls you in close, sealing his heartfelt words with a lingering kiss that leaves you breathless.

Carlos

Carlos has been jittery all day, and now you understand why. In his hand, he holds a velvet box, his eyes lighting up with that mischievous glint you know so well.

When you open it, you’re greeted with a simple, classic band with your birthstone embedded in the center. It's perfect, something you could imagine wearing every day without a second thought.

You chuckle, giving him a teasing look. “So, a ring now, huh? You do know that it usually comes with a proposal, right?”

Carlos smirks, his hands settling on your waist. “Mi cariño, I had to do something. Can’t let you think you’re on the market. This may not be a wedding ring, but consider it practice.”

He slides the ring onto your finger, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’re going to be wearing one on this hand eventually. Might as well start getting used to it now.”

He’s so charming and sure of himself that it’s impossible not to melt right into his arms. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, the kind that holds every ounce of his feelings for you.

Lando

Lando fumbles a bit as he holds up a tiny box, his cheeks red as he tries to play it cool. But the look on his face betrays him—he’s nervous, and it’s adorable.

The ring inside is small, subtle, and totally fitting for the two of you. A simple band with a single birthstone, it’s exactly the kind of piece you could wear every day, just like he wanted.

When he slips it on your finger, you raise an eyebrow. “A ring, huh? You wanna marry me.” You say teasing him.

Lando laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s true, but… I couldn’t wait. Had to make sure you had something from me. Everyone needs to know I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

He pauses, squeezing your hand. “Plus, I want you to get used to the idea. One day, it’ll be a bigger ring. But until then, just… keep this one safe.”

He’s blushing furiously, but you give him a kiss to let him know he doesn’t have to be nervous. As he hugs you, you feel his relief, and he mumbles against your hair, “I’ve got to keep you forever, you know that?”

Oscar

Oscar has a quiet confidence about him as he takes your hand, showing you the little velvet box he’s been carrying all day. Inside is a beautiful ring with your birthstone, small and delicate.

You smile, touched, but you can’t resist teasing him. “Are you proposing, or…?”

He laughs softly, his thumb running over the ring he just placed on your finger. “Not yet. But I couldn’t wait any longer to make it clear—you're my girl. I don’t want you going anywhere.”

You can’t help but smile at how sure he sounds. “Oscar, you know I’m not going anywhere.”

He meets your gaze, his eyes sincere. “Good. I wanted you to know that I’m not either. I wanted you to have something that shows you’ll always be mine.”

With a warm smile, he leans in, kissing you sweetly. “One day, I’ll make it official. But for now, just promise you’ll keep wearing this.”

You nod, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wants to let go.

Max

When Max hands you the small box, he’s uncharacteristically quiet, his usual confidence slightly softened by a hint of nerves. Inside, the ring is as no-nonsense as he is—a simple band with a small stone.

As he slides it on your finger, you raise an eyebrow and smirk. “You know, Max, this usually comes at the next level in a relationship.”

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. “I know. But you’re stuck with me. I wanted everyone else to know that too.”

Max’s thumb runs over the ring, a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “Consider it practice for the future. You’ll get used to wearing a ring for me.”

Your heart melts a little at the serious look in his eyes, and you tease, “Practice, huh?”

He grins, kissing you deeply, making sure you feel every ounce of his commitment. “Yeah. Get used to it, because I’m yours forever and you’re mine.”

Sebastian

Sebastian’s fingers shake just slightly as he hands you the little box, his shy smile making your heart swell. The ring inside is perfect—dainty and understated, a small stone set in silver.

When he slips it onto your finger, you grin. “Sebastian. Asking me to marry you already, hmm?”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling in that warm, familiar way. “I will, one day in the future, but I couldn’t wait that long. I wanted to give you something now, something to remind you that you’re my person.”

He cups your face, his gaze soft. “I hope you’ll get used to wearing something on that finger, because one day, I plan to put a different ring there.”

He’s so earnest, so genuinely sweet that it takes your breath away. He leans down and kisses you gently, his hands holding you close, as if he never wants to let you go.

Jenson

Jenson's easygoing smile falters just slightly as he hands you a tiny box, but his eyes twinkle with mischief as you open it. The ring is classy, elegant, with a touch of vintage style that feels so you.

He slips it onto your finger, his gaze meeting yours. “You know, Jenson, this normally comes with a wedding proposal.”

He laughs, pulling you close with a grin. “You know me—I’m always ahead of the curve. I couldn’t wait to let everyone know you’re mine.”

With a wink, he adds, “It’s just a little placeholder. I want you to get used to it because, one day, it’ll be a wedding ring. But until then, I want you to know that you’re the only one I want to be with.”

His words are so casual, but there’s depth in his gaze, a promise that one day, he’ll make good on those hints. He pulls you in for a kiss, one that leaves you lightheaded and smiling.

ꨄ༊*·˚ taglist! @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @Blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @xoscar03 @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @jimcarreyfann42 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @goldenroutledge @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris18-blog @acesbakery @armystay89 @poppyflower-22 @hrts4havertz

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[maxtermind]

Loooved part 3!

But pretty please make them make up 🥹

MAKING UP WITH YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND

( texts masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )

★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ★ : genre :: crack for the first 3 because i was in a silly goofy mood + hurt/comfort for the last 3

⋆ PART 1 ⋆ PART 2 ⋆ PART 3 ⋆ PART 4

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★ : a/n :: ANDDD thats a wrap😚 feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (43/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Getting ready for a party is always fun when the company is good.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst (body insecurity if you squint), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.5k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: cherry is still sick, but this needed to get out of my head. feedback is appreciated. love ya.

When Kika puts her bag on the living room table, it clinks suspiciously. 

“My goodness, did you bring half the supermarket with you?” you ask her with a grin, which develops into a loud laugh when Pierre puts down a huge bag next to the door. ”And you brought your whole wardrobe too.”

“Of course I did,” she smiles, kissing your left and right cheek. ”After all, I don't know what you're wearing, and I thought we could coordinate our outfits a little.”

Pierre puts an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. “I'm glad you only packed one bag,” he says, kissing her temple. “Please pick up the other stuff off the floor tomorrow. The bedroom looks like a battlefield.”

Kika rolls her eyes but snuggles up against him. “You love me.” She looks up at him with her huge brown eyes as he leans down to her. 

“I do,” he smiles against her lips, and the moment is so intimate that you leave them alone in the living room. 

Charles is standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen and smiles at you as you enter the room. “Everything okay?”

You nod and sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. "How long have they been together, by the way?”

“I think about two years," he replies, leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter behind him with his palms. ”They're cute, aren't they?”

“Absolutely,” you smile. "Almost a little too sweet. I fled the living room when I saw the way they looked at each other, like he was about to propose.”

Your roommate has to laugh. "You should see them together at a Grand Prix. A few drivers – myself included – have a bet on when he'll ask her to marry him.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Did you bet for money?” 

The Monegasque raises his coffee cup to his mouth and takes a sip. "Yup.”

“And what was the stake?”

Charles hesitates and avoids your gaze. "100€.”

A grin spreads across your face. ”Can I still join?”

Your friend raises his eyes and looks at you in wonder, but before he can say anything, Kika and Pierre enter the kitchen. Pierre now places the heavy bag, which had just clinked suspiciously, on the kitchen island. Not a second later, the Portuguese woman reaches into the opening and pulls out a bottle of wine. 

“Sweet,” she says and holds out the bottle for you to see. The brand doesn't look familiar, but the label is pink and the glass is a mint green, and the way your friend looks at you, you know exactly that you'll like the wine. 

You take two wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and place them in front of her. “And what are the boys drinking?”

Charles puts his hand to his chest in mock outrage. "Boys? Boys?" He shakes his head. "We're men.”

You wrinkle your nose and grin at him. "Since when?”

Your roommate walks around the kitchen island and wraps his arm around your neck to put you in a light headlock. He presses you against the counter in front of you with his big body and whispers in your ear. “Do you want me to show you again?”

“Please get a room.” Kika grins and pours the wine into your two glasses. 

Charles lets his arm slide from your neck to your collarbones, where it then remains. “You're in our apartment. You can just leave,” he replies annoyed, as if your friends' presence were preventing him from dragging you to the bedroom right now. Which maybe it is. But you don't want to think about that.

“Then I'll take this one back with me.” Kika reaches into her handbag again and pulls out another bottle, before placing it in front of you both. "For your beloved Moscow Mule.”

You don't need to look at the man behind you to know that he's grinning. "If you two ever break up, I'll keep Kika.”"

“Ouch,” Pierre says, pouting. "And I thought our friendship was more important to you than ginger beer.”

With his free hand, Charles grabs the bottle and lifts it up before smiling at the Frenchman. "I thought so too.”

“Okay, okay.“ Kika grabs her glass and the bottle of wine before looking at you. ‘You and I are going to get dressed up. You can play video games or something in the meantime." She kisses Pierre on the cheek before heading for the kitchen door.  ”You coming?”

You nod, but turn around in Charles' arms to look at him again. “What are you going to wear?”

Your friend shrugs. “I was thinking of a simple black button-down," he replies, raising his hand to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "Do you already have something in mind?”

You shake your head. ”Not really, no.”

Charles smiles gently at you before weaving his fingers through your hair before they come to rest at the nape of your neck. “You're sure to find something nice. You look perfect in anything, anyway.” He leans forward a bit and breathes a kiss on your forehead. 

“You're disgusting!” Kika's voice sounds from the hallway. 

Charles flips her the bird before letting go of you. “Go. Before you get into trouble. And let me know if you need anything.”

You smile at him briefly before taking your wine glass and following your best friend towards the bedroom. Once there, you watch as Kika empties her bag, which was just standing in the living room, onto the bed. “I don't want to imagine what your bedroom looks like at your place.”

“Believe me, it's actually better if you don't.” She grabs the clothes and starts sorting them on the bed. "How was your Christmas?”

You take a big gulp of wine. "Good.”

The Portuguese woman looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Wow, you tell it like I was already there.” She matches a white top to a dark red satin skirt. “Tell me. Did you visit Charles Mom?”

“We did,” you reply and sit down on the last free spot on the bed. “I haven't had such a nice Christmas in a long time.”

Kika smiles at you. “Did you two fuck?”

You almost drop your glass. "Kika!" you whisper indignantly and quickly close the door so that the men can't hear you. You lean back against the wood. 

“So you fucked,” she grins and raises her wine glass to toast you. When you stare at her, she lowers her glass again. ”Y'all didn't fuck?”

“We didn't.”

“But you did something.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Like a curious little child, she draws up her legs and sits cross-legged, chin resting on her fist. “Tell me everything.”

You have to laugh. ”I thought we had to get ready for the party.”

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

And you do. You tell her everything that has happened in the last few days. About the night you gave Charles a massage and about the night on the boat. That he gave you an employment contract as a Christmas present so that you can be together permanently. About Christmas and last night, when you got closer than ever before. The way he called you “his girl”. 

Kika listens intently and asks questions in between, but first and foremost she lets you say everything that is on your mind – and that seems to be quite a lot. 

You tell her how confused you are because you don't know exactly where you stand with Charles. But also that it's okay for you, because as long as you can somehow participate in Charles's life, that's enough for you. It's like you're addicted to him – and every little dose you get of him draws you further under his spell. 

When the men knock on the door an hour later, you've just finished and are catching your breath for the first time.

“Is everything okay?“ Charles asks, his eyes fixed on you. He seems to ignore the bed's mess – or he doesn't even notice it. 

“Everything's fine,” you smile.

He nods and points at Pierre, who is standing behind him. “We just wanted to get pizza so that we can eat something decent before the party. What do you want on it?”

“Just a simple Margarita, please,” you reply, Kika gives the same answer. 

Charles smiles at you. “Have you found an outfit yet?” When he sees the empty wine bottle on the dresser, he presses his tongue into his cheek. “Or did you have so much to talk about that you haven't had time yet?” He raises an eyebrow. He knows exactly what you've been talking about for the last hour.

Warmth rises to your cheeks. “The latter.”

Your roommate nods again. "Okay. You still have a little time. We're on our way. See you in a bit," he says goodbye and closes the door behind him. 

Kika looks at you. ”He's right. We really should start thinking about what we want to wear.”

As if you were at a fashion show, you try on everything that could possibly go with the club. Dark red dresses, the little black dress, satin trousers and corsets that accentuate the décolleté. But somehow there is nothing that convinces you. 

Annoyed, you lie down on the bed with your back on it, the clothes are spread out on the floor of the room. Kika lies down next to you. 

“Is it always like this?” you ask her, crossing your arms over your face. 

“What do you mean?”

You breathe out loudly. “It's the first time I'm consciously out and about with people who are famous. Is it always so exhausting to find something appropriate so you don't embarrass yourself?”

“I think you get used to it,” the Portuguese woman replies. ”I had to learn that too at the beginning. That there are some items of clothing that suit your figure and some that don't. And just because something looks good on you doesn't mean you feel comfortable in it.” 

“And how do you do it?” you ask her, looking at her. "I mean, you're a model. You obviously look good in anything. But – I don't know.”

Kika shrugs. "It took me a long time to feel comfortable in certain things. But most of the time I actually wear things that I didn't have to be convinced of at all. And then I don't care what others say about me. I feel comfortable – and I want to keep it that way.” When you don't answer, she grabs your hand. "It'll get easier. And until it does, you've got me by your side." She nudges you in the side. ”And your roommate, who practically undresses you with his eyes.”

You roll your eyes mock-annoyed. “He doesn't.”

“He does,” she grins. “But that's okay. After all, you're absolutely perfect. You could go to the club in a potato sack and you'd look bombastic.”

“Well,” you say. “Unfortunately, I don't have a potato sack here that I could put on.”

When the door suddenly opens, you both jump. The boys are standing in the doorway, Pierre has two pizza boxes in his hand and Charles a smaller black box. 

“Where have you been? It's been almost an hour since you left” Kika asks, getting up from the bed. 

“We had to get something,“ says Pierre, motioning for her to follow him. As Kika takes your wine glasses and the two of them leave the bedroom, Charles sits down on the bed next to you. 

“I brought you something,” he smiles, placing the box on the mattress between you.

You sit up and examine the box. “What is it?”

Your roommate shrugs. “You asked me what to wear to parties in Monaco, and I still owe you an answer.”

Slowly, you reach for the box and take off the lid. Inside, wrapped in dark red paper, is a dress. Black and long, with thin straps and a low-cut back. As you carefully take it out of the box, you are speechless. 

“Do you like it?” He asks and watches you get up from the bed and hold it up properly. 

You stare at it, mouth agape. "Where did you get this?" You ask him, holding it up to your body and looking at yourself in the mirror. 

“It's not important. Do you like it?“ he asks again, his eyes glued to you. 

“It's gorgeous,” you breathe, turning a little to get a better idea of how it would look on you. “I—how much did it cost? I'll definitely pay you back the money.”

“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately and with a tone that allows no argument. "It didn't even leave a small dent in my bank account." He gets up and stands behind you. He's so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. "You'll look stunning in it.”

You look at him through the mirror. “And if you put on your black shirt, we'll even match,” you smile, before carefully hanging the dress over the sideboard. 

Charles wraps his arm around you to press you against him. You feel his hardness against your lower back as he leans down to you and places feather-light kisses on your neck. “That was the plan,” he whispers, and goosebumps spread across your body where his hot breath caresses your skin. 

His hand moves under your sweater and his fingertips slowly glide over your ribs before his thumb hesitantly slides under the fabric of your bra. Breathing heavily, you lean your head against his shoulder and give him more room on your neck as his thumb slowly circles around your nipple. 

“Charles,” you breathe softly and arch towards him. You want more. So much more. 

When Kika's voice echoes through the apartment, you break away from each other. ”Come on! The pizza will get cold!”

With hot cheeks and wet panties, you let Charles lead you into the living room, where the other couple is already sitting on the couch eating pizza. Another bottle of wine is on the table in front of Kika, who is refilling your glasses. 

Although the couch is big enough, Charles pulls you right next to him on the cushion and puts your legs over his lap. For a moment, you wonder if he's doing this just so the others can't see his boner. 

“Here,” Kika smiles, handing you a slice of pizza, which you accept gratefully. 

The four of you eat dinner together and chat about Christmas, Charles‘ upcoming training camp and New Year's Eve, while the boys’ pizza boxes, wine bottles and drinks get emptier and emptier. 

“I was thinking of throwing a New Year's Eve party,” Kika says, putting her wine glass back on the table. ‘You're obviously invited. I wanted to invite a few other friends, but your attendance is most important to me.”

“Well, I'd love to come,’ you smile, looking at Charles. ”Unless you have something else planned.”

The Monegasque shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I won't be back from camp until the afternoon, so we'll probably see each other again at the party first. But until then, you'll be in good company for sure.”

“Excuse me?” Kika says indignantly. “I'm the best company!”

Pierre puts his arm around his girlfriend and kisses her on the cheek. ”For me, definitely.”

Kika leans against her boyfriend before gently kissing him. “I know.”

Charles quickly grabs a pillow and throws it at them. “Please get a room!” He jokes, repeating Kika's words. When she flashes him her middle finger, he can't help but laugh. “Come on, you two. Get ready. We have to leave soon.” He runs his fingers over your shins before smiling at you. “Go put on your new dress.”

You can't stop smiling. “See you in a bit.”

While the men continue to chat, Kika and you get ready. With professional precision, she applies make-up on your face before doing your hair and then taking care of herself. The Portuguese woman decides on a short black dress with pearl embroidery. When she is finished styling herself, she helps you into your new dress. 

“Careful with the straps,” she smiles as she pulls it up your body. You put your arms through it carefully so as not to damage it. When you're dressed, Kika looks at you skeptically. "The bra has to go.”

You look at her with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to go out without a bra?”

“Don't you have an invisible bra?” When you shake your head, she purses her lips into a thin line. ”Then you'll have to go out without a bra. Unfortunately, the straps are so thin that you can see the bra underneath either way. But we can tape over the nipples if you like. At least they won't be visible in the cold outside.”

Without further ado, she disappears from the room and while she is looking for something to cover the nipples with in the apartment, you examine yourself in the mirror in your room, but no matter how you turn, it is too small to see you from top to bottom. On bare feet, you walk to Charles' bedroom across the hall, where the new, larger mirror is leaning against the wall. 

The satin dress clings to your curves and accentuates your body exactly where it should. There is a slit on the left side that reaches to the middle of your thigh and the back neckline is so low that you couldn't pull your thong all the way up because it would otherwise show. 

You examine yourself in the mirror and don't even notice that Charles is leaning against the doorframe until he starts talking.

“Let's stay home,” he suggests, his expression impenetrable. He is wearing his black shirt as promised, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks wickedly handsome.

You smile at him and try to suppress the dirty thoughts that are trying to take over your brain. “We can't cancel now,” you reply. “First of all, the others are already here, and secondly, Lando is definitely waiting for us.”

“I don't care.” With quiet steps, he moves towards you without taking his eyes off you. Like a predator that stares at its prey before it snaps. 

You turn to him. ”You have very good taste, Charles. The dress is perfect.”

He answers without hesitation. “Not as perfect as the woman wearing it." The Monegasque stands directly in front of you and looks down at you. "Let's stay home," he suggests again. His large hands find their rightful place on your hips and pull you towards him. His eyes glow seductively. 

“It would be rude to cancel now.”

“It wasn't a request,” he whispers, turning you so that you are standing with your back to him. Once again, you can see him through the mirror. He grabs the flesh of your hip with one hand, while the other hand wanders over your upper body until it rests on your neckline. ”That dress was definitely a mistake.”

You look at him, confused. “Why? I thought you liked it?”

“That's not the point,” he whispers, kissing your bare neck. His stubble scratches a little, but you couldn't care less. "I just don't know how to hold back when you look like this." His teeth graze the soft skin below your ear. ”God, you look devine.”

His hand slides gently into the dress from above and encloses your bare chest. At the same time, a soft moan escapes you. “Charles.”

“Merde,” he curses and presses you against him. “How am I supposed to keep my fingers to myself when I know you're not wearing a bra?”

As his fingers gently play with your nipple, you bite your lip. “Who said you had to?” you tease him, whereupon his other hand gently rests on your neck, though not squeezing. Sadly.

“I can't wait to be back here later,” he gasps and presses a final kiss on your shoulder before taking his hands off you. You watch him fix his erection in his pants so that it can't be seen. But it's there, you know that. And just the thought of it gets your blood pumping. ”And then neither of us leaves this bed until I say so.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you ask, tilting your head so he can see the red marks on your skin where his beard has left its mark 

Charles suppresses the urge to pull you close and throw you onto the new bed to fuck you relentlessly until your legs give out and you forget your name. He flexes his hand. “Both, mon amour. Definitely both.”

[bucky-lents]

My baby fever has been triggered 😭🥰

He Takes Your Baby To The Paddock » F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

He was determined to keep your child as far away from the hustle and bustle as possible when he took them to the paddock. Max used his broad shoulders to shield your child from the cheers and the flashes in order to protect him and make sure that they weren’t too overwhelmed by it all. Every few seconds, Max would glance behind him and make sure that you were still there too and also safe, but most importantly he wanted to make sure that your child was safe in his arms, being the perfect protective dad that he always was.

» Lando Norris

There was nothing that Lando wanted to do more than show off your child when he took them to the paddock, happy to introduce them to anyone who would listen. Although your baby was still quite young, that didn’t stop Lando from showing them around and making sure that they got a glimpse at everything that went on in the McLaren garage. Lando didn’t want to leave your child’s side for the day, wanting to make sure that they got to experience absolutely everything with him. He was obsessed with making as many memories in the paddock as he possibly could.

» Carlos Sainz

The two of them were like social butterflies around the paddock, everyone loved Carlos anyway, but Carlos walking around with your child seemed to draw even more people over to him. Everyone in the paddock couldn’t get enough of your child and Carlos was incredibly proud to gush to everyone about how lucky he was to have the two of you in his life. You had often told people how your child had inherited Carlos’ charm and now everyone else managed to see it for themselves too. There were endless jokes with the three of you as Carlos and your baby kept the crowds entertained.

» George Russell

There was a proud smile on George’s face for the entire day that you and your child decided to attend the race with him. George wasn’t flashy about the fact his little family were there to support him, but if anyone did ask him about the two of you then he would talk to them for hours about how amazing life was. It was something that he could definitely imagine himself getting used to in the future, seeing his child waving for him down the pit lane and being the first one to give him a hug when he climbed out of the car - hopefully one day as a race winner too.

» Charles LeClerc

It was like having a big kid in the paddock the day that Charles got to take your child to work with him. He was beyond excitable, his heart racing with happiness being able to marry his two favourite things, his family and work. Nothing seemed to dampen Charles’s spirit as a little hand clung onto him for dear life in amongst all the chaos calling out to ‘papa’ every so often just to make sure that he was definitely still there. As Charles saw the smiles on others’s faces whenever your child called him in response to how adorable they were, Charles knew he was a lucky guy indeed.

» Pierre Gasly

There was almost a slight concern amongst the team when you and your child appeared at the paddock, because no matter what they did, Pierre just couldn’t seem to stop himself from smiling. He was on cloud nine being able to show your child around, answering all of their questions and hoping to prove to him that it was worth it for daddy to be away for so many days of the year. Nothing else mattered other than being able to enjoy spending time with his family and make plenty of memories with your child as they cheered him on throughout the day.

» Lewis Hamilton

He was high alert throughout the entire day having your child at the paddock, any second his eyes weren’t on them he was panicking and wanting to make sure that they were safe. You couldn’t help but laugh at how cautious Lewis was, he was reluctant to even race out of fear of something happening to your child. With lots of reassurance, he eventually did, but you’d never seen him leave his car so quickly once the race was over. Everyone knew that he was pretty protective, but this knocked everyone’s socks off with how caring of a dad he was.

» Alex Albon

He seemed to look nowhere else throughout the day other than in your child’s direction. Alex loved to give your child all of his attention, it didn’t matter if he was in briefing, being interviewed, or supposed to be warming up, Alex would only be half listening to what was going on around him. Instead, he was obsessed with your child and didn’t want to miss a thing, especially as he got to watch his child enjoy one of his favourite places on earth, the paddock. Everything else was second best to Alex, despite the number of times people checked he was paying attention throughout the day.

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[rana030]

We always get sunshine!reader what about grumpy!reader, huh?

[vivwritesfics]

im thinking about lestappen with a tattooed reader

you have a couple before you meet them, before you get with them. they don't see all of your tattoos right away, some of them weren't in appropriate places.

but then your relationship progressed. sex, seeing each other naked, the usual. this leads to the three of you laying in bed, post sex, with max and charles on either side of you.

their fingers were on your skin, tracing over your tattoos. you released a sigh, in a state of bliss at the feeling. they asked the usual questions. when did you get it? what does it mean? the usual ones. as charles traced over the song lyrics you had tattooed, he sang along.

lestappen was fascinated by your tattoos. so, when you told them you were getting a new one, they were so excited.

both boys wanted to go with you, but it was on a race weekend. the jokes started about the tattoo meaning more to you than their race, but you know that they weren't being serious.

both of your boys made you promise to send them progress pictures of your tattoo. you did, taking quick pictures as the artist inked your skin.

and you got home. they got home several hours later in the middle of the night. you woke up (they weren't exactly quiet) to them walking into the bedroom. "can we see it?!" max asked, far too excited.

you pulled the bedsheets back, showing them the fresh ink on your body. charles reached his hands towards it, reaching out to trace his fingers over it, but you batted him away.

"not until it's healed," you said to him and charles pouted.

the boys were in love with your new tattoo. obsessed might be a better word. they were careful, listening to your instructions on how to wash it and doing it for you.

max was gentle as he rubbed the cocoa butter into your skin, over your new tattoo. charles had been the one to gentle wash it with warmish water, the two of them taking the two bobs in turn.

an act of service, the two of them showing how much they loved you. when the tattoo was finally healed enough, charles sat there and traced it. the motion of his fingers sent a shudder through you.

it was simply lovely

[bunnys-kisses]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ angel eyes - max v., charles l., carlos s., lando n.,♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

to say that this was casual was an feeble attempt to lie to yourself. as you watched the men in front of you strip. booze and cigarettes passed around with you as the main star. you were growing desperate with time running out. your career felt like it was tethered by a thread. you had seen how easily they cut sargeant and you felt like you were next. your neck on the chopping block for some younger driver that the team could shape into a superstar. but unlike sargeant, you knew how to secure your place.

the men watched you as you got out of the clothes you wore to the track. the alpine shirt over your head, exposing your breasts to them. you could feel their hungry gaze on you. you felt more exposed than at any other point in your life. you were nothing more than meat to be groped and fucked. but their promises hung heavy in your mind as you took off your jeans.

if tonight goes well, then you'll have a seat next season.

carlos was the first to make a comment as charles poured him more wine. the two ferrari men chuckled between one another. you tried to look away, but max's domineering voice cut through, asking for your eyes forward. you weren't going to coward out. lando shifted in his seat and kept his eyes on the curves of your body. this was debauchery, this would be considered sinful across every church in europe. it was a sick affair and it let you running hot. you looked to max and he looked at you over the rim of his glass, he took a drink before he got up from the couch, he went over to you. a hand on the back of your head as he made you look up at him. his other thumb dragged across your bottom lip as he gazed down at you. he asked one you simple thing, are you going to behave tonight? and with everything you had in you. you nodded and said, yes sir. then you were put on your knees to get to work. in front of your audience.

a naked formula one driver kneeling in front of the top four on the track. if the press knew, if your teams knew, it would be a field day. there were many women who yearned for the company of at least one of them. but you had all four of them leering at you and as you were at max's feet, like a dog. their gazes hungry, the lust was heavy in the room along with sweat and a heat that not even the air conditioning could get rid of. heat lingered, just like the lust that pumped in your veins. even if this felt degrading, it was necessity.

max's cock wasn't the biggest out of the four of them, you'd refuse to say who was the biggest (you didn't need a fight). but as it rubbed up against your face, pre cum drooled onto your cheek before you turned to take it in your mouth. your mouth was so soft that it almost made max crumble. instead he gripped onto the back of your head and pushed his cock into the back of your throat. there were a few tears in your eyes as he started to work your mouth onto his cock. in front of an audience no less. you whimpered with your nose in max's pubic hair as he broke down your gag reflex. you clawed at his thighs before he told you, put those hands to work because i'm not doing your job for you. and without a second thought you started to rub your bare clit. the side of your hand rubbed harshly across your achy pussy. you were soaked and the sounds of your wetness could be heard as you played with yourself. which was a siren's call and the other men stroked their cocks painfully. max worked at your throat and it made you hot all over. the more you pleasured yourself the harder your sucked him off. his praise was mostly hot groans as he guided you up and down his length. he could feel the heat splash across his neck as he fucked your throat even harder. he said something to the other men, but your brain wasn't processing anything. most of the night the men spoke like you weren't in the room or that you were a piece of furniture in the corner. a toy. you continued to pleasure yourself and when max choked you on his cock as he finished, you came as well from the rush to your brain. words were spoken to him and you felt on another planet. when max took his cock out of your mouth, you coughed on the cum in your throat, some coming up across your chin.

before you could think straight once more, carlos had you by the arm. on shaky legs he got you back to the couch then pushed over the back of it. there was enough room for the (soon to not be) ferrari driver and his teammate to use your pussy and throat once more. you prayed that no one asked you questions come morning. carlos took your pussy while charles took your throat. while their cocks weren't impressive when you gazed at them briefly. but when they were shoved inside of you, your eyes rolled back a little. your toes curled as the two fucked you at the same pace. you choked on charles' cock because carlos' cock was up in your stomach. it felt like you were being squished between the two of them. you could hear the two of them talk, even exchanging short laughs and when you looked up at charles to be let in on what they were talking about. but instead charles tapped your nose and you obediently closed your eyes and let his cock hit against your throat some more. your noises were muffled as the two men fucked you feverishly. you could feel the hungry gaze on a sated max and a horny lando. the heavy panting, the soft noises, the creaking of the couch as you laid over it like a doll. you were at their service for the night. the doll of formula one, well rather a lamb the men supposed. soft to the touch, with meat so tender that the other driver's wanted to devour it. you whined a little bit as you clawed at the leather of the couch, it sticking to your sweaty body. everything about it was hot, but yet you were going to be achy come morning. regardless, you had a job to do. you arched your back and whimpered around the other's cock as you felt their paces stagger. you knew it was close for them. pleasure curled in your gut, as you orgasmed once more. it made everything hot all over. without thinking you accepted their cum. you were left over the couch when both men stopped and pulled out. charles' cum lingered in your throat as you gasped for air. your throat was painfully raw. you whimpered when carlos slapped your ass and laughed.

you swore once the ferrari drivers were done with you, lando would show you mercy. but out of all of them, lando wanted you the most. after all he was the one to proposition this entire thing. he was the first driver in your ear. he spun a narrative about how oscar might be jumping shift, but he wasn't too sure if your abilities would be useful at mclaren. and when lando saw you nervously bite your thumbnail, his tale only grew. oscar piastri wasn't going anywhere, but lando was more than happy to sink his cock into you. you ended up on the carpet once more, lando barely got a pillow under your ass before he was fucking you missionary position. he wanted to see every expression that crossed your face. you whimpered and whined, long ago losing most control over your ability to keep quiet. you felt outside your body from the sheer amount of orgasms that had been pulled from you. lando thrusted with such a fever that it left you gagging for more. you tried to find leverage on the carpet but instead got burns across your back and hands. lando loomed over you like a shadow as he kept you pinned to the pillow and therefore the floor by your hips. your legs kicked out as he rammed his cock up against your cervix. if it wasn't bruised, it would be purple by now. you'd be limping for the rest of the season because of it, because of how lando wrecked you. lando's mouth made more marks across your neck and collarbones. adding to the collection left by carlos. you looked towards the couch and found the other exhausted drivers on there. across it and down the sectional. naked, cock's leaky. but lando grabbed you by the jaw and glared down at you. he told you to keep your eyes on him. a head of jealousy showing in a situation where you were used like a rag. with a few more heavy thrusts of his hips, his cock bruising your insides as he finished inside of you. everything went blank in your brain for a moment. pleasure took you under the waves and you could only think about your heavy panting.

you didn't know how long you were laying out on the carpet. you blinked open your eyes and saw max looming over you. you noticed his cock was at full attention and leaky. some pre cum dripped off his cum and down his cock, but a little bit landed on your chin. you couldn't see his eyes, but you knew his gaze was stern. he said one thing, if you want a contract and less bruising. you have three seconds to get to the bed.

you don't know how you ended up in bed, but by morning everything felt sore. you took an extra long time in the shower and kept your jacket to your chin, no one would see the damage done last night. you'd get your contract, even from mclaren. but, sometimes it's not good to wish for things. because whichever team you pick, you're going to have three other hungry pairs of eyes on you. if you go to ferrari, max will find a way to get you over to red bull. go to williams and lando would be pulling a few more strings to get you in orange. and if they couldn't get their way with you on the track, then they'd simply have to make sure to claim your pussy as their own. eventually you'd have to pick one of them (not that you had much to say otherwise). you soon became a prize more important between the top drivers than the championship. because while trophies were nice, having their favourite driver prance around in their colours was even nicer. <3

[passengerprincessblog]

“Something Sweet” Charles Leclerc Short

FLUFF ⭐️

Summary: Charles surprises Y/N with playful affection, stealing her ice cream and teasing her as they cozy up on the couch. In their quiet Monaco apartment, love blooms in the little moments, proving that even the silliest gestures can mean everything.

The soft glow of the TV lights up the darkened living room, casting a warm haze around me as I sink deeper into Charles’ plush couch. Monaco nights like these feel serene, with only the distant hum of the city below, quieted by the safety of his apartment walls. I let out a contented sigh, savoring each lick of my vanilla and caramel ice cream cone. It’s pure bliss — my favorite show, my favorite ice cream, and the comfort of Charles’ home around me.

Just as I’m lost in the familiar plotline on screen, I feel a shift beside me. Charles slides into the room, and his gaze locks onto me with an expression that’s equal parts adoration and amusement.

“Look at you… enjoying yourself? Huh?” His voice is teasing, the hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he flops down next to me — so close, he’s practically on top of me.

I make a tiny, dramatic sound of annoyance, but truthfully, I don’t mind him crowding me. His warmth presses against me, and he’s close enough that I can feel his breath on my cheek as he leans in to plant a soft kiss there. His hand reaches up, pinching my cheek gently.

“Beautiful little baby,” he coos, his voice soft and adoring.

My face flushes immediately, but I try to brush it off, taking another lick of my ice cream to distract myself. He watches, and I can see that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes as he eyes the cone.

“Let me try some of that, Y/N,” he says, his hand darting out to steal it before I can protest. He takes a big, dramatic lick of the ice cream, savoring it with a grin.

“Get your own!” I whine, reaching for it.

“This is mine now,” he teases, taking another big bite, nearly finishing off the whole top.

I huff in frustration, crossing my arms as he chuckles at my reaction, his own cheeks tinged with a playful blush. I know he’s enjoying this little game, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, fully aware that I’m not fooling anyone. He loves to test my patience, and truthfully, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

His hand finds its way to my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. His touch is comforting, sending a warm, tingling sensation that contrasts with the coldness of the ice cream. I watch him, my lips pressing into a pout as I wait for him to hand it back.

“You can ask for it back,” he teases, eyebrows lifting in that charmingly arrogant way of his.

I smile despite myself, trying to keep up my fake annoyance. “Please, may I have it back?” I ask, putting on my best polite voice.

“Wow, such good manners, Y/N!” he teases, holding the ice cream just out of reach. I make a grab for it, but he pulls it away with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“No, no. I’ll hold it. Go on…” His voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a tenderness in the way he looks at me, like this moment — silly as it is — means everything.

I let out a soft sigh, rolling my eyes again, but I lean in, taking a lick of the melting cone as he holds it for me. His gaze is warm, his eyes brimming with affection as he watches me. I feel my cheeks heat up, the sweetness of the ice cream mingling with the sweetness of his attention. I know he loves this — loves the simple act of taking care of me, even in the silliest, most playful ways.

Eventually, he leans back, pulling me against his chest, and I let myself sink into his embrace. His arm wraps around me, fingers brushing through my hair as we settle back into the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. We finish the rest of the show like that, cocooned together, the faint taste of vanilla and caramel lingering on my lips, a memory of this perfect moment.

——————————————————-

Thank you for reading!

Please like and follow to let me know you enjoyed it! 💜

[amirasainz]

Please write one with Norris!reader. She is competing in the Olympics with pair ice skating. Her and her partner win gold. Lando who is sadly in a different country for a race watches the performance with the other drivers. Everyone, like really everyone, is so happy that she won and is celebrating. Proud older brother Lando

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Golden

The bright lights of the stadium glinted off the ice, reflecting the high energy of the crowd as they waited for the final pair of skaters in the Olympic Pairs Free Skate competition: Y/N Norris and Thomas Liu. The audience had been buzzing for days about their challenging program, filled with complex lifts and intricate footwork. But while everyone in the packed arena held their breath in anticipation, there was someone thousands of miles away, nervously glued to a screen, who was probably even more tense than the crowd: Lando Norris.

Lando was in his race gear, sitting with a group of Formula 1 drivers in a hospitality suite that McLaren had set up for the race weekend. It was nearly midnight in this part of the world, but he’d made sure to arrange for a screen to be set up so he wouldn’t miss a single moment of his sister’s performance.

“Mate, you look like you’re about to race right now,” Carlos said, nudging Lando with a grin.

“Tell me about it,” Charles chimed in, laughing. “You’re sweating more than before a qualifying lap.”

Lando’s foot tapped against the floor nervously as he adjusted his position. “Guys, you don’t get it. Her program is… it’s insane. She and Thomas have been working on this routine for months, but it’s, like, terrifying. There’s this lift — he flips her over, mid-air — if it goes wrong…”

Max Verstappen raised his eyebrows, giving Lando a supportive pat on the shoulder. “You’ve got to have a little faith, man. She’s been working toward this for years. She’ll crush it.”

The feed cut to a shot of Y/N and Thomas taking their positions at center ice. Thomas’ hand reached out, giving Y/N a reassuring squeeze before the music started. Even from miles away, Lando could see the glimmer of determination in his sister’s eyes.

The routine began, and almost instantly, Lando’s hand went up to his mouth, his face contorted in a mix of pride and pure anxiety.

Carlos nudged him again. “She’s graceful out there, you know. Doesn’t even look nervous.”

“Yeah,” Lando replied, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. “She makes it look easy, but it’s not. Not even close.”

The other drivers had gathered around as well, all offering quiet words of encouragement, their own faces tense as they watched. Even Lewis, who was typically the calm and collected one, had his arms crossed tightly, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“She’s incredible,” Oscar murmured, shaking his head. “I didn’t know figure skating could be this intense.”

As the performance continued, Y/N and Thomas flawlessly executed their jumps and spins, moving in perfect sync, like two parts of a well-oiled machine. Then came the most challenging part of their program, the lift that Lando had mentioned.

Lando’s breath hitched as he leaned forward, gripping the edge of his seat. “Here it comes. This… this is it.”

Thomas skated backward, pulling Y/N into a complicated lift, where she twisted in mid-air before he caught her smoothly. For a moment, it looked like they might wobble, and Lando’s heart skipped a beat. But Y/N steadied herself and completed the maneuver with a look of pure confidence.

“Yes!” Lando punched the air, his face lighting up with pure, unfiltered joy. The drivers around him erupted in applause, patting him on the back, some even whistling in admiration.

The performance ended with Y/N and Thomas holding their final pose, frozen on the ice as the audience rose to their feet, the entire stadium erupting into cheers. Lando’s eyes were wide, his expression one of astonishment and pride as the scores flashed across the screen.

Gold.

“She did it…” Lando whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “She won gold. She actually won!”

The entire room broke out into celebration, with Charles and Carlos jumping around him, Max ruffling his hair, and Oscar giving him a quick, excited hug.

“Your sister’s an Olympic champion, mate!” George exclaimed, grinning widely.

“I told you!” Lando’s voice was loud with pride as he looked around the room, practically glowing. “My little sister just won gold. Do you all understand? Gold! Olympic gold!”

From across the room, Zak, who had been watching with a keen interest, raised a glass in Lando’s direction. “Congratulations, Lando. Quite the feat. She’s a Norris, after all.”

Lando laughed, his voice almost cracking as he replied, “Thanks. I think I’m more proud of her than I’ve ever been of anything.”

With a grin, Lando looked at the screen again, watching as Y/N and Thomas embraced each other on the ice, their eyes wet with happy tears as they took in the roaring applause of the crowd.

“Did I tell you guys she’s been skating since she was three?” Lando was practically bouncing as he regaled the room with tales of his sister’s determination. “She’d get up at five every morning to practice. And she’d never quit. Never.”

One of the F1 media team members overheard the conversation and couldn’t resist joining in. “I think we’ll need a press release from McLaren. ‘Lando Norris’ sister wins gold!’”

“Please do!” Lando laughed. “I’ll shout it from the rooftops myself if you don’t!”

The drivers laughed, and for the rest of the night, Lando didn’t stop talking about Y/N. Every person he passed, from engineers to team staff, he’d proudly announce, “Did you hear? My sister’s an Olympic champion!”

Carlos was laughing, shaking his head. “Lando, I think you’ve told everyone in the entire paddock at least three times already!”

“And I’ll tell them again!” Lando shot back, grinning ear to ear. “Did I mention? My little sister’s got an Olympic gold medal!”

Back on the screen, the ceremony began. Y/N stood on the podium with Thomas, a gold medal hanging around her neck. When they lifted their medals to the sky, the drivers raised their drinks in a toast to her from miles away.

“To Y/N Norris, Olympic champion!” they all cheered.

As the night went on, Lando’s pride didn’t wane for even a moment. He went on and on, telling anyone who would listen about her dedication, her talent, her hard work. And as he finally made his way back to his room, Lando couldn’t resist sending Y/N a message.

Lando: Y/N, I am the proudest brother in the world right now. I knew you could do it. You’re incredible, you know that?

A few moments later, his phone buzzed with a reply.

Y/N: I had the best brother in the world cheering for me. Thanks, Lando.

Lando smiled, putting his phone away, a warm sense of pride flooding through him. In his mind, there was no race, no podium, no championship that could ever compare to the feeling he had at this very moment. His sister was an Olympic champion, and he was—without a doubt—the proudest big brother in the world.

[leclarifies]

forgive and forget (CL16)

✰ charles leclerc x reader ✰

summary → dating a formula one driver meant that your boyfriend would always be busy, but what you didn't expect was for him to forget your anniversary all together.

genre → angst but gets fluffier towards the end (very short drabble, self-indulgent)

word count → 1.3k words

author's note → honestly, i really like writing angst with charles, i'm sorry dahbdhanda. i just needed a break from writing something with any sort of plot, so enjoy <3

the thunder in the background snapped me from my trance, i've been lost in thought for awhile now. the sky's dark and the day was almost ending, and here i was sitting at the dinner table, alone with food all around me.

the rain was drizzling in monaco, and it fueled the sinking hole in my chest. i knew that charles was a busy man, but i didn't expect him to forget our anniversary together.

somehow, i didn't feel sad, or disappointed. i just felt numb. it hurt of course, seeing your own boyfriend forgetting about your anniversary, something i thought that we would both celebrate together, spend the day together, or maybe just sit in the quiet of our apartment, kissing and touching and ending the day together.

but the fact of the matter was, he was a formula one driver and i couldn't keep expecting him to be there when i wanted. it was a selfish want, and somehow i needed to understand that not all anniversaries can be celebrated, and not all of them will be remembered.

a sigh escapes my lips, i've been waiting for him to come home for four hours now. maybe it was time to let up. i gently took the plates of now cold food and shuffled into the kitchen, putting them into containers to store in the fridge, not wanting them to go to waste. i had lost my appetite in the process, not even touching my own plate of food.

when i was finished putting all of the food away in the fridge, the door of our apartment jingled, charles was home.

"amour, i'm home," his voice had rung out in the apartment as he entered our shared apartment, even though i felt upset, i couldn't help but smile at him, at least he came home, right?

i was never the one to yell, to throw a fit when he forgot about something. even if it was something as important as our anniversary, i always wanted to talk it out, even when it made me upset and charles would always appreciate it, he would always talk to me lovingly even when we had our arguments.

"you missed our anniversary, love," i told him gently as i walked up to him, wrapping my arms around his middle before leaving a kiss on his cheek, his face flashed from surprise to frustration all in one go, he closed the door behind him and sighed, he was angry at himself for forgetting, i could tell. the way his brows were furrowed and his shoulders tensed.

"i-... amour, i'm sorry. things have been hectic, the car is just so shit this season and i didn't mean to—"

i cut him off before he could ramble on about his work with a soft kiss to his lips, "it's okay, i'm not mad at you. i know how things are at work and i understand, i just feel a little hurt that you didn't call or text me at all," i explain to him and he closes his eyes before wrapping his arms around me, he held me close.

i could smell the faint scent of his cologne as we held eachother close, the domestic aspect of it all. waiting for him to come home, cooking dinner for our anniversary even though he forgot.

"how about i make it up to you?" charles asked as he opened his eyes back up, the pretty green orbs of his eyes staring lovingly into me, staring lovingly into my bare soul, "what do you want to do?"

"can you just drive me around in your noisy car?" i laugh as he smiled at my joke, all of his cars were sports cars and they were noisy by default. i had always complained about it but i could never be mad at his love for his team, "just spend the night together, driving in the dark of the night while we sit in each other's company."

charles pressed his forehead against mine, he breathed in before nodding, "i can do that for you, do you want to go now?" he left a kiss on my lips before i nodded.

it wasn't long before i was in the passenger seat and he was starting his car up, i hadn't been in this car yet. i knew that he got it as a gift for his win in austin, i had attended the race and he had excitedly told me about the car once we got home in monaco but i never got the chance to sit in it until now.

"this one is a bit noisier, amour. i apologize," charles had said when the engine rumbled to life, i had settled into the seat as he drove off into the night of monaco, his phone had connected to the bluetooth automatically and his playlist was in the background, serving good ambience in the car.

"i love spending time like this, just the two of us, not really driving to anywhere meaningful," i had spoken up, breaking the previous comfortable silence the both of us were in, charles glanced at me before humming a response, eyes back on the road shortly.

monaco was a small city, but i noticed that charles had taken a particularly familiar track, it was the monaco grand prix track, where he had won earlier this year.

"i'm sorry," another apology leaves his lips, i turn my head to look at him, he didn't have to apologize. i forgave him after he got home, but i appreciated it, "i should've paid more attention, i know how important dates are to you. i should've set a reminder."

"i told you that it's okay, i'm not holding anything against you," i tell him softly, his hand instinctively reaches out for my knee and i let him, setting my hand above his as his thumb gently caresses my knee.

the both of us had spent most of that night going in circles, going on the familiar monaco track, it was almost 3am when charles had decided to go back home. the night drive we spent together was nice, it was peaceful. i loved it.

it wasn't long after the both of us had settled into our apartment, getting ready for bed.

i had sat in my vanity, just doing skincare with charles opting to sit on the floor, his head laid on my lap as i went through the steps for my night routine, my hand periodically going down to pat his head.

"we can go for dinner tomorrow, i have nothing planned," charles mumbles, leaving a kiss on my thigh, i nod, dinner was fun, considering that today's was left untouched.

i could feel his head lift up from my thigh, so i looked down and i saw him staring up at me, with all the love in his eyes, i just smiled at him, "what's wrong love?"

"nothing, i just... i'm sorry. i feel bad. i love you— i love us. i just can't believe that i could forget our anniversary so easily like that," charles mumbled, i pet his head again, i had told him countless of times in the car ride that i didn't hold any ill-intent against him for forgetting. his job was demanding, and something like that could've easily slipped his mind.

although i did feel hurt, he's trying to make it up to the best of his abilities now, and that's all i could ask for.

"how many times have i told you to stop apologizing?" i had told him before standing up, he did the same and the both of us made our way to the bed, snuggling up against eachother.

my head was against his chest and his face was in my hair, softly breathing in and out. i could tell he was tired but still went out to drive with me anyway.

"i love you, amour."

"i love you too charles."

"let's go to dinner tomorrow, okay? i'll make it up to you," charles pressed a gentle kiss onto my forehead and i could only hum back in return, i had my eyes closed and i was close to drifting off to sleep considering it was nearing 4 am at this point.

"okay, goodnight. sleep well."

"goodnight to you too mon amour."

[mariclerc]

Falling for you (pt.4) | cl16

Summary: thanks to a debt owed by your father you have to marry the boss of the mafia.

Warning: mafia au, fluff, 5 years age gap, insecure reader, mafia boss!Charles and a bit of suggestive content.

Part 1, part 2, part 3

After what happened at the casino that night, you and Charles returned to Tuscany and everything was going on as usual - he with his sweet gestures towards you, divine food and barefoot walks in the villa's garden. But, putting that aside, you feel a slight emptiness in your chest.

What happened with your father doesn't hurt you in the slightest, because it's what someone like him deserved a long time ago, but something that is not so easy to forget is the constant humiliation and hurtful words about your physique that he said to you almost daily when you were still living with him, months before you married Charles.

Right now you're standing in front of a large, ornate mirror, your reflection staring back at you. You're wearing a simple pink silk nightgown, the thin fabric clinging to your small frame. A sigh escapes from your lips as you critically examines your reflection, just like your father would do to you daily.

You're petite, with curves that don’t quite fit the stereotypical model image... Your thighs are thick, your breasts small, and the words your father had spat at you in the casino echo in your mind every single day since that night, a cruel reminder of his constant criticism of your appearance.

“He’s probably wondering why he’s stuck with someone so damaged like me.” you whispered softly to yourself.

A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling your back against a warm, solid chest. Charles’ familiar scent of sandalwood and aftershave fill your senses.

“Stuck with you? Oh, cara mia, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” (my darling)

He rests his chin on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your ear. You shivered involuntarily, a mixture of nervousness and pleasure coursing through your veins.

You turned slightly in his embrace. “You don’t have to say that, Charles...”

“Oh, but I have to, tesoro.”

He gently turned you around to face him, his hands cupping your face. His gaze is intense, filled with a warmth that melts some of the ice around your heart.

“You’re beautiful, y/n. Absolutely stunning!” he whispers softly.

He traces the curve of your cheek with his thumb, his touch sending a shiver down your spine... You blushed under his gaze, your shyness battling with the unfamiliar flicker of desire you feel in his presence.

You looked down at your feet. “I’m not… I’m not like the other women you… you’ve been with.”

He chuckled softly. “Other women? They’re just… shadows. You’re the real thing, piccolina, you’re the sun, the moon, the stars… all rolled into one person.” (little one)

He gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “These thighs…” he runs his hands along your thighs, his touch sending a wave of heat through your body. “…they’re perfect for holding onto, and these breasts…” he gently cups your breasts in his hands, his touch is surprisingly tender. “…they’re perfect for… well, for everything.”

He leans in and kisses you softly, a slow, lingering kiss that makes your head spin. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide with surprise and a flicker of something more.

“You’re perfect, y/n. Every inch of you! And I want to show you just how beautiful and sexy you are in my eyes.”

He pulled you close again, his arms wrapping around your waist. You rest your head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm against your ear. The insecurities that had plagued you moments before begin to fade, replaced by the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity in his voice. You're still shy, still uncertain, but a flicker of hope begins to ignite within you.

He whispers against your hair. “My sweet little melody… my delicious temptation…” he kisses the top of your head. “So precious and exquisite.”

He continues to murmur sweet and sexy nicknames against your skin, each one sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. His hands gently caress and worship your body, slowly chipping away at your shyness and insecurities and replacing it with a growing sense of desire.

The Tuscan sun streams through the window, illuminating the room and casting a golden glow on your intertwined bodies, the morning stretches before you two, full of promise and the intoxicating possibility of something more.

You and Charles and surrender to the rising tide of passion. His touch, initially hesitant and exploratory, becomes more assured, more possessive, yet remains infused with a tenderness that melts away your remaining inhibitions. He kisses you deeply, his lips moving against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm that sets your senses ablaze.

He lifts you gently, carrying you as if you weighs nothing, and lays you down on the plush bed. The soft silk sheets cool against your heated skin, he leans over you, his eyes burning with a mixture of desire and adoration. He continues to kiss you, his lips trailing down your neck, across your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He whispers against your skin. “You’re so beautiful, tesoro. So perfect for me.”

His words are a balm to your soul, erasing years of insecurity and self-doubt. You arched your back, your body instinctively responding to his touch, the unfamiliar sensations both exhilarating and slightly overwhelming. This is the first time that you surrender completely to someone, and the feeling is exciting.

Your voice is breathy, almost like a sigh. “Charles… it… it feels…” you struggled to find the words to describe the sensations that are coursing through your body, the warmth that is spreading from your core outwards, the fuzzy, almost dreamlike feeling that is enveloping you.

He smiled softly, understanding in his eyes. “I know, cara, I know... Just let go, let me take care of you.”

He continues to touch you, his hands exploring the curves and valleys of your body with a reverence that makes you feel cherished and adored. His touch is gentle, yet firm, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed. The pleasure builds slowly, steadily, like a crescendo of music, each touch, each kiss, each whispered word adding to the symphony of sensations.

Your voice is soft, almost a moan. “Charlie... It… it feels so good.” you closed your eyes, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that washes over you. You'd never felt anything like this before, this intoxicating blend of tenderness and passion, this feeling of being completely and utterly connected to another human being.

Charles whispered against your ear. “That’s my girl. Just relax baby, let it go.”

He continues to move against you, his rhythm slow and deliberate, building the tension, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. You clinged to him, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching against his. The world outside fades away, replaced by the intoxicating sensations of his touch, the warmth of his body, the sound of his heart beating against your ear.

He watches you closely, his eyes filled with a mixture of passion and tenderness, making sure that you're okay, making sure you're enjoying every moment. He murmurs words of encouragement and reassurance, his voice a soothing balm against the rising tide of pleasure.

“You’re doing so well, tesoro. So beautiful, so perfect.”

His words fuel the fire within you, pushing you closer and closer to the precipice. The pleasure intensifies, building to an almost unbearable crescendo. You cried out his name, your voice a mixture of pleasure and surrender, as you're swept away by the wave of ecstasy that washes over you.

In the aftermath, you two lie tangled together, your bodies still intertwined, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. The Tuscan sun continues to stream through the window, bathing the room in a warm, golden light. You rest your head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm against your ear. You've never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, yet so safe, so loved, so completely and utterly cherished.

The sheets are tangled around you two, a silent testament to the passion you’ve just shared. You take a deep breath, the air still thick with the scent of arousal and something sweeter, something akin to intimacy.

A wave of emotion washes over you – relief, wonder, and a profound sense of gratitude. A single tear escapes the corner of your eye and traces a path down your cheek.

You speak, your voice barely a whisper, thick with emotion. “I… I can’t believe I... I finally…”

You trail off, the words catching in your throat, the years of your father’s harsh criticisms, his constant belittling of your appearance and worth, and the things he forced you to do had left deep scars inside. The fear of inadequacy, the belief that you wasn't good enough, had haunted you for so long... But in Charles’ arms, in the aftermath of your shared intimacy, those insecurities begin to dissolve, replaced by a nascent sense of self-acceptance and a burgeoning confidence.

He tightens his arms around your waist, his touch reassuring and protective. “Shhh, amore. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you were… magnificent.” he gently brushes away the tear that lingers on your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin with infinite tenderness. (love) “My little vixen… you set my soul on fire.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead, a soft, lingering kiss that speaks volumes. He then trails kisses down your temple, along your jawline, to the sensitive skin behind your ear.

He nips playfully at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. You giggled softly, the sound muffled against his chest. The tension from earlier has completely dissipated, replaced by a comfortable warmth and a playful intimacy.

He kisses your neck, his lips lingering on the pulse point at the base of your throat. You arched your back instinctively, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your shared passion.

The ghosts of your past begin to recede, replaced by the promise of a future filled with warmth, acceptance, and the intoxicating knowledge that in Charles’ eyes, you're not only beautiful, but cherished, adored, and desired beyond measure.

***

The Tuscan sun streams through the kitchen window, illuminating the vibrant colors of the fresh produce scattered across the countertop. You are humming softly to yourself as you moved gracefully around the kitchen, a vibrant sundress swirling around your legs. The dress, a cheerful yellow with delicate white floral patterns, accentuates your figure, clinging to your curves in all the right places. The air is filled with the tantalizing aroma of simmering tomatoes, garlic, and basil – the promise of a delicious homemade pasta sauce. A couple of days have passed since that first intimate encounter between you and Charles, which has practically been a before and after in the lives of both of you, and insecurities no longer torment your thoughts as usual.

Charles enters the kitchen, his arms laden with fresh herbs gathered from the garden. Rosemary, thyme, oregano – their fragrant leaves release their intoxicating scent as he brushes past them. He stops dead in his tracks, his gaze fixed on you, the sunlight catches the golden highlights in your hair, making it shimmer like spun silk. The sundress, so vibrant and alive, accentuates the gentle curve of your hips, the subtle swell of your breasts, the elegant line of your neck. He stands there for a moment, captivated, his breath catching in his throat.

His voice husky, almost a whisper. “Dio mio… you’re breathtaking amour.” (my god) (love)

He sets the herbs down on the counter, his eyes never leaving the sight of you. He walks towards you slowly, his gaze intense, almost reverent... He reaches out and gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment.

“That dress… it’s… it’s a crime against humanity... It’s too distractingly beautiful.” he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, and inhales the scent of your perfume, a delicate blend of floral scent and citrus, mingled with the aroma of the simmering sauce. “You smell delicious. Almost as delicious as you look.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You blushed under his gaze, a mixture of pleasure and shyness warming your cheeks.

You smiled softly. “You’re just saying that.”

He shakes his head, his gaze unwavering. “No, tesoro. I mean every word, you’re… radiant... Like the Tuscan sun itself.” he reaches out and gently traces the curve of your jawline with his thumb, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I can’t take my eyes off you. It’s like… like you’re a work of art... A masterpiece.”

He leans in and kisses you softly, a slow, lingering kiss that speaks volumes. The taste of you, sweet and intoxicating, mingles with the savory scent of the sauce, creating a heady mix that makes him dizzy with desire.

He pulls back slightly, his voice husky. “I’m going to have to taste you later... Along with that pasta sauce, of course.”

He winks, and you laughed while blushing, a genuine, carefree laugh that fills the kitchen with warmth and joy... The tension from the previous days, the lingering insecurities, they all seem to melt away under the heat of his gaze, replaced by a growing sense of confidence and a deep, abiding love.

You smiled playfully. “You’ll have to wait your turn, Mr. Leclerc... Dinner first, dessert later.”

You turned back to the stove, your heart fluttering with happiness. The rich aroma of your pasta sauce fills the Tuscan villa, mingling with the sweet scent of the herbs Charles has carefully chopped and added to the simmering pot. You two work together in the kitchen, a comfortable silence punctuated by the occasional playful banter and stolen kisses. The initial awkwardness of your arranged marriage has faded, replaced by an easy intimacy that feels both surprising and utterly natural.

As the sauce simmers, Charles pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your hair.

“You know, cara, I never thought I’d find happiness like this.” his voice is soft, almost vulnerable. You turned in his embrace, your eyes searching his.

“What do you mean?” you asked him softly.

“Before you… life was, well… different. A whirlwind of parties, fleeting encounters. It was… empty, meaningless.” he gently cups your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “But you… you’ve filled that emptiness with something… real... Something… beautiful.”

He leans in and kisses you softly again, a slow, lingering kiss that speaks volumes. When he pulls back, your eyes are shining with unshed tears.

“I feel it too, Charles. I never thought… after everything… that I could ever feel this way.”

The “everything” hangs in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the years of emotional abuse you endured at the hands of your father, Charles’ eyes soften with understanding. He pulls you close, holding you tight against his chest.

“You deserve to be happy, tesoro. You deserve to be loved. And I promise you, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you just how much you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time with a fierceness that takes your breath away. The kiss is a promise, a vow, a declaration of the love that is blossoming between you two, a love born not of obligation, but of genuine connection and mutual respect.

The forced marriage, the initial awkwardness, the lingering insecurities – they all seem to fade into insignificance, replaced by a sense of belonging, a sense of peace, a sense of coming home. You looked at Charles, his face illuminated by the flickering candlelight, and a smile spreads across your face. This man, this mafia boss with his dangerous charm and unexpected tenderness, has become your sanctuary, your safe haven, your home.

***

Inside your shared bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains, you and Charles prepare for the night. The remnants of the day’s laughter and shared intimacy linger in the air, creating an atmosphere of comfortable warmth and quiet affection.

Charles is sitting on the bed as he watches you brushing your hair, the moonlight catching the golden highlights and turning them into shimmering strands of silk. The simple act, so mundane yet so intimate, fills him with a sense of contentment he’s never known before. He walks over to you and gently takes the brush from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. And then he started to brush your hair, his touch slow and deliberate, each stroke a silent expression of his love for you.

His voice soft, almost a whisper. “Your hair is like spun gold, tesoro.”

You lean into his touch, your eyes closing as you savor the feeling of his fingers against your scalp. The simple act of him brushing your hair feels incredibly intimate, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that has grown between you two.

“You’re spoiling me Charlie.” you say softly with a shy smile.

“Only the best for my beautiful piccolina.” he chuckled softly.

He finishes brushing your hair and gently places a kiss on the top of your head. He then pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist. You two stand there for a moment, embraced in the soft moonlight, the silence filled with unspoken emotions.

His voice husky, filled with longing. “I can’t get enough of you, mon bébé.” (my baby)

He leans down and kisses you, is a slow, deep kiss that speaks of passion and tenderness, of vulnerability and trust. You responded in kind, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more demanding, a reflection of the desire that burns between the two of you.

You suddenly break apart, breathless, your eyes locked in a silent conversation. He lead you towards the bed, your hands intertwined. And you two undress slowly, each touch, each glance, charged with anticipation. As you lie down together, the soft sheets cool against your heated skin, he pulls you close, his body molding perfectly against yours.

The night unfolds in a slow, languid dance of love and intimacy. Your shared whispers mingle with the soft sounds of your lovemaking, creating a symphony of shared pleasure and deepening connection. The moonlight continues to bathe the room in its soft glow, a silent witness to the blossoming love that is transforming your lives.

In each other's arms, you have found solace, comfort, and a sense of belonging you’ve never known before. The arranged marriage, once a symbol of obligation and duty, has become a sanctuary, a safe haven, a testament to the unexpected power of love to heal and transform.

[andcars]

𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔 ── FUCKBOY PINING CHARLES X OBLIVIOUS READER MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

premise. You don’t believe that you’re the one that would break Charles’ playboy reputation. But you’re going to ensure you get the most of him while you can.

tags porn with little plot, hook-up, oblivious reader, charles has feelings for reader but she doesn’t know it, playboy charles leclerc, light dom charles leclerc, bareback, coming untouched wc 1.2k

You burn on the top of the world because you’re chest-to-chest with the one you want—knowing this is all you can grasp. Charles is kissing you with both of his hands gripping your waist. Small sighs leave him, barely audible through the heavy bass of the club, as his tongue pushes your lips open.

Nothing could get you to open up more. It’s intoxication. The alcohol in your system gets you dazed but sober enough to want to push him against the wall. Instead, that’s what he does to you—

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🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . i know i promised a daniel fic request but i wanted to post something cuz my patreon got a bit dry after maxtober. tmr i have a free day so i am going to be making daniel content teehee ˎˊ˗ ᝰ. ──── 📨 @Delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @Tribbisweetdear @Jamie2305

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[tessab154]

Body aches or not my hands would be ALL over this man

Post Race Massage : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: after another gruelling race, charles looks to you to help his aching muscles recover

You couldn’t help but laugh as Charles let go of a groan, his hands pressing against his back as the aches of the day caught up with him. He dropped down onto the bed beside you, his sad eyes glancing across at you as he struggled to deal with how much his body hurt.  

It had been a long weekend of racing for him, pushing his body to the absolute limit, but when he had a collision with Sergio during the race, his body was finally done in. After jolting in his seat Charles felt his body scream out in pain, a pain that had stuck with him for the rest of the day as you got back to your hotel. 

His steps were slow as he moved, his arm clung onto you for a little bit of support, it was unlike anything that you had seen from Charles before. As he laid himself down, it was the most comfortable that Charles had felt for hours, finally able to relax a little. 

“Who knew racing was so cruel on the body,” you teased, brushing your hand through Charles’ messy hair. “I thought you’re supposed to train so these things don’t hurt as much.” 

Charles frowned across at you, his usual confidence had been replaced by plenty of pity for himself, eyes searching in hope of a little bit more sympathy from you. 

You watched Charles for a few moments, thinking through of ways that you could help him. You remembered the things that you saw Charles’ team do in his driver’s room plenty of times before, confident you could do the same thing. 

“Why don’t you lay on your tummy?” You suggested, shuffling off of the bed so that Charles could roll over. “I’m sure there’s something that I could do to help you out and ease some of that tension.” 

Charles did as you said, with plenty of moans and groans, letting you know just how sore he was. You struggled to hold back your laughter as he did so, as much as you felt sorry for him, seeing him be so dramatic never failed to leave you in disbelief.  

Once Charles was comfortable, you pushed the legs of his trousers up so that you could get to his calves, pressing your hands into his muscles and massaging over them. Another moan came from Charles, this time one that was filled with relief and comfort. 

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop, that feels incredible,” Charles told you. 

You smiled back down as he rested his head against his arms. “If someone were to walk past our hotel room right now, they’d have some serious questions about what we’re doing.” 

“With how sore my body is right now, this feels so much better than sex my love.” 

A chuckle came from you as you continued to massage the tension and knots out of Charles’ muscles. You moved your hands up his leg, reaching the top of his thigh, pressing in as firmly as you could to try and help him. 

“I’ll bare that in mind,” you smirked, tapping against Charles’ bottom. 

He continued to sigh in relief, finally able to relax again. “Maybe it’s about time I accept that I’m not exactly a young racing driver anymore.” 

“How many times do you have to be told to do your warm ups properly before you listen?” 

Charles only had himself to blame for the pain that he was in, assuring you and the rest of his team that warming up was pointless. He was still young, fit, he didn’t need to stretch his muscles out, all he was doing was driving a car, or so he thought. 

“Take your top off,” you instructed, hearing a hum of delight come from Charles, only to feel you slap your hand against his back. 

Your eyes rolled as he took his top off and threw it on the floor. Your legs straddled around his body, sitting yourself just below Charles’ bottom so that you could get to his back. 

As soon as your hands landed at the top of his back, Charles’ smile turned up. Your hands massaged over him once again, digging into all the right places to try and untangle the knots that you could feel building up. 

“Good?” You questioned, although you already knew the answer, watching as Charles turned his head around to be able to look back at you with his smile. 

His head nodded in response, “I mean my body is still killing me, but you’re working some pretty good magic making it feel better right now.” 

“I’m glad I could help you out.” 

“I could get used to this.” 

“Having your girlfriend sit on your ass whilst she massages your body, I’m sure that you could,” you teased, “you can wipe that smile off of your face as well.” 

As much as he wanted to, Charles simply couldn’t, he was enjoying himself far too much. It was nice enough to have you help him, but feeling you sat on top of him was definitely an added bonus that he could get used to as well. 

“You know, seeing as you’re getting old we might have to invest in some things to help you when your body is sore,” you told him, “have you seen those massage guns that all the gym people are using these days?” 

“Trust me, no massage gun can make me feel as good as your hands,” Charles assured you, pushing back against you as you dug in against his spine, moving your fingertips around in circular motions. 

“Try and not sound so smug when you say that,” you challenged. 

Charles’ head shook, “I would love to try, but I’m feeling so smug right now, almost like I’m in some sort of dream.” 

He didn’t want to make his body suffer, but if this was how you treated him after it, maybe it would be worth it for Charles after all. He had a whole team of experts around him, and yet none of them took care of him as well as you did. 

“I think I’m almost done,” you told Charles, only to feel his hands reach back and rest on your hips, refusing to let you leave from where you were sat. “We can’t spend the night with me straddling you like this.” 

“What about if I turned over into a different position instead?” 

“I thought you were supposed to be tired and achy?” You reminded him, knowing exactly what Charles was hinting at from the suggestive tone of his voice. “You’ve suddenly changed your tune.” 

“I was, but then you gave me some godly massage and suddenly I feel like I’ve found a bit of energy again,” Charles smirked, sending you a knowing glance. 

You didn’t quite know what to say as Charles raised his eyebrows across at you, tensing his back so you could see his muscle definition, knowing just how much it turned you on. 

“If you moan in the morning that your body hurts, I’m going to have no sympathy for you,” you warned, sitting up so that Charles could turn so that he was facing you. 

“It’ll be worth it,” Charles promised you, “and anyway, I got another podium today, so we’re supposed to be celebrating that, aren’t we?” 

“That’s true, congratulations old man.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗