#cl x you
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Hey!! Loved your work! ❤
Could you write something for Charles where reader and him are getting married in Indian culture (Maharashtrian if your comfortable) where he is mesmerized by seeing her in Indian attire 🥰 just a big fat Indian wedding with all the ritual like sangeet haldi.
If your comfortable with it!
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only wedding ☄. *. ⋆
✳ cl x desi!reader ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ
✳ fluff + humour ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ
masterlist ☾☼
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if charles believed a formula 1 weekend was intense, he was about to experience the biggest surprise of his life – an indian wedding. more specifically, his wedding. to you. and from the moment he stepped into this magic show of colours, sounds, and an ostentatious quantity of turmeric being thrown around, he knew one thing: he was completely, utterly out of his depth.
────୨ৎ────
“why do i feel so much like i’m about to be sacrificed?” charles whispered to arthur while staring at the enormous brass plate filled with haldi placed right in front of him.
“because you are,” arthur replied without any emotion.
you, sitting across from him, already had a golden shine because of the paste smeared all over your face. your cousins and friends were laughing, anticipating the moment they could escape to charles.
“don't look so frightened, meri jaan,” you said with a smirk. “it's only turmeric. very good for your skin.”
charles did not trust this at all. not even one bit.
at the very moment his side of the family stopped hesitating, your cousins seized the opportunity and jumped at charles with their hands full of turmeric and sauce.
“NO—”
he was already too late.
within seconds, charles, who was known for his quick reflexes, found himself tackled by giddy aunts and friends ready and excited to smear haldi on his skin. his face, neck, and arms. what a beauty.
arthur? useless. he was laughing too hard to do anything.
lorenzo? capturing the entire scene.
carlos, who had flown in for the wedding? he was loving this.
"welcome to the family, mate,” he called out while smirking.
“merci,” Charles cursed while spitting some haldi that had found its way to his mouth, laughing.
────୨ৎ────
it goes without saying that charles leclerc is a–fantastic sportsman, prince charming of monaco, and a romantic at heart –all in one.
but a dancer? not really.
and yet, here he is in the middle of a stage during what can only be described as an epic battle royal for dance off supreme, where he was pitted against his cousins, who are taunting him into the challenge dressed in a highly embellished kurta-pajama.
“charles! charles!” The audience shouted his name to amp him up.
“i did not sign up for this,” he grumbled to himself.
when he turned to look at you, however, the user in a lovely soft blue lehenga, and laughing while cheering for him, something clicked within him. if he could take eau rouge in bad weather, defeat a dance battle would be a walk in the park. so, he thought.
and so, ferrari's golden boy, charles leclerc, shamelessly attempted to butcher bollywood dance moves in the most charming way.
he did try to his credit. he started off trying to be as original as possible and mimicking what the rest were doing, but in the middle of it he was just pretending to do f1 victory celebrations and faux champagne splashes.
carlos was crying.
your mother, poor soul, was completely baffled.
but you? you are rolling on the floor in laughter.
in the end, Charles was drenched in sweat and exhausted. he was not a hundred percent certain his muscles would be sore the next day, but logically, there’s a highly likely chance of it being true.
regardless, when you embraced him and said, “best performance ever,” he thought it was all worth it.
────୨ৎ────
it was finally the day of the wedding.
the mandap was decorated with golden and maroon cloths along with marigold garlands. the scent of incense, jasmine, and tantalising food being made to serve at the wedding wafted in the air.
charles adjusted the pheta on his head for at least the hundredth time. he was wearing his regal cream shirwani and said, “arthur do i look good?”
"you look like an expensive pastry," arthur said, completely straight-faced to charles.
charles raged at him.
then the music changed. at last, all the guests were eagerly waiting for.
and there you were.
you was twinkling with mischief and was ethereal with gold jewelery, nauvari saree and your nath gracefully set on your nose.
for the first time in his life, charles completely lost it.
he stood, frozen in time, and stared at you as if you are a creature that fell from heaven.
"breathe, man," said arthur as he elbowed charles.
from the crowd, carlos called out to lorenzo “i think we lost him,” whispering.
you walked over to him, speckled gold jewelery twinkling with mischief whispering softy “so, what do you think?”
charles being short circuited very much went, “wow."
as he was right to assume that you were not looking blend anymore. you were looking elegant and changed everything for him.
"good wow or bad wow?" you asked with a gentle smile while fixing the shawl he was wearing.
"the best wow," he told you.
────୨ৎ────
in true maharashtrian tradition, your sisters and cousins snatched charles’ shoes during the ceremony.
and now?
now, they were demanding a ransom.
"okay, monsieur leclerc," your little cousin teased. "if you want your fancy ferrari shoes back, you have to pay up."
charles, always the competitor, narrowed his eyes. "how much?"
your cousin crossed her arms defiantly. "hundred thousand euros!"
carlos nearly spat out his drink.
"hundred thou—?" charles turned to you, eyes wide.
you smirked. "welcome to the family, jaan,"
arthur, the instigator, leaned in and whispered, "you could always just race them for it."
big mistake.
because charles, with his f1 instincts kicking in, grabbed his shoes and took off.
cue the great shoe chase of 2025, where a formula 1 driver was being pursued through the wedding venue by a group of determined girls in sarees.
carlos? capturing every moment on camera.
your father? laughing too hard to intervene.
you? just standing there, arms crossed, watching your husband sprint as if he were defending pole position in Monaco.
"do you regret marrying him?" your aunt asked, amusement dancing in her eyes.
you watched as charles yelped, narrowly avoiding a flying sandal.
with a fond sigh, you shook your head. "not even a little bit."
────୨ৎ────
later that night, when the excitement had settled and you and charles finally found a moment of peace, he took your hands in his and pressed a gentle kiss to your henna-stained fingertips.
"that was… quite an experience," he said softly.
you laughed. "you made it through your first indian wedding, mister leclerc."
"only wedding, periodt." he smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "i am never getting married again,"
you raised an eyebrow. "because it's too much work or because you love me?"
"can't it be both?" he whispered, leaning in to kiss you.
you laughed, before you kissed him back.
────୨ৎ────
i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this! i have been taking a bit of a break recently! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)
taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday ; @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @peterholland04 ; @justaf1girl ; @greantii ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry ; @hiireadstuff
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httpsserene · 1 month ago
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𝟏-𝟖𝟎𝟎-𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏-𝐌𝐄-𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 - 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔
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summary: fans notice that charles’ cars are suddenly being parked perfectly. come to find out, his (secret) girlfriend has been parking his ferrari like butter.
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!poc!reader
smau (ignore dates on tweets pls). fluff & humor. explicit language. two or three uses of "y/n." charles’ canonically questionable parking. reader goes undercover on f1twt. charles gets cyberbullied /jk? secret agent roleplay? (don't ask, it'll make sense, maybe). big thx to the girlies on twt who had threads of charles' bad parking photos ;p
༊࿐ ⊹ ˚ this is like mid-level charles leclerc stan knowledge. bro put all of his skill points into racepace and forgot about parking his daily cars 😭 enjoy reading, my loves xxx
⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻
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instagram • f1fanpagemonaco
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liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others
f1fanpagemonaco the planets must be in alignment because charles leclerc has perfectly parked his ferrari this afternoon 😱
tagged charles_leclerc
view comments
user1 i-i can't believe my eyes 😧
user2 it's only taken him a decade to learn how to parallel park LOL
user3 monaco native here! can confirm- his cars have decreased cosplaying as road obstructions for about three months :)
user4 THREE MONTHS ??!!? how is this the first time i'm hearing about this ???
user5 i don't believe this. did anybody SEE him park the car 🤨🤨🤨
user6 we're going to find out this photo was ai generated in a couple weeks haha
user7 take this down !!! we're supposed to keep this on the dl to avoid jinxing ourselves 🤬
user8 fr, i thought every monegasque was in agreement about staying hushed :(
user9 after almost flying over the hood of his cars TWICE on my bicycle- i'm glad that he's improving his parking skills ☺️
user9 HIS BROTHERS AND FRIENDS IN THE LIKES IS EVEN CRAZIER??! CHARLES STAND UP FOR YOURSELF ⁉️⁉️
user8 didn't you just say that you almost crashed into his (badly) parked car in the comment above ? user9 i fail to see how that's relevant rn
user10 charles woke up saying "i understand it now" and performed the best parallel parking known to man
user11 y'all are getting ahead of yourselves. there's a very high chance that it was valet parking 🙄
user5 this is what i'm saying!!! user12 lol what if he decided to hire a private driver 🤣 user13 charles would neverrrrr—remember how he acted on the start-stop challenge we Carlos 👀 user14 he DOES NOT serve passenger princess ☠️
twitter
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imessage • charles -> yn
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twitter • @ cl16sleftnipple -> yn's undercover fan acct
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imessage • yn -> charles
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igstory • charles_leclerc has uploaded !
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[caption; she accepts watching sunsets on a yacht as a form of payment 😉]
this story is unavailable. get notifications when charles_leclerc shares a story.
igstory • yninstagram has uploaded to their close friends story !
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[caption; if anyone is looking for a chauffeur call me at 1-800-HELP-ME-PARK 😅]
franciscacgomes u have to take me on a joyride the next time i'm in monaco !!!
yninstagram yes! we'll ditch the boys for the day and collect some speeding tickets with the stradale ;p
yourfriend do you do weddings 👀
yninstagram weddings, birthdays, bachelor & bachelorette parties, etc. yourfriend how much do you charge? yninstagram 4 cheeseburger
charles_leclerc i thought i hired you for your exclusivity 😑
yninstagram shh mon amour you'll always be my favorite client xoxo
olliebearman if i get him for secret santa next year, i'm gifting him parking lessons 😆
yninstagram you'd be my favorite child if you did 🛐 olliebearman :DDD
instagram • f1fanpagemonaco
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liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others
f1fanpagemonaco charles leclerc posts and deletes a photo of an unknown woman to his instagram story in the midst of a rampant discussion of his suddenly improved parking! it's captioned: "she accepts watching sunsets on a yacht as a form of payment." was this an accidental post of the rumored chauffeur that's behind the perfect parking of his vehicles?
tagged charles_leclerc
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user17 the winky face emoji is making me think she's more than just his chauffeur 👀👀👀
user18 we really do need to open the schools :/
user19 bc how do you read the caption and not see that it's blatant confirmation that he's hired a driver?
user20 i don't even have to see behind that champagne flute to know that she's a baddie 😮‍💨
user21 now that i think about it, i think i saw a woman with this exact outfit walking a dachshund that could’ve been leo!!! wish we could see more of her face to confirm ☹️
user22 does anybody else think that this was just meant to distract us from the original issue of charles being unable to park a car???
user23 talk about it!!! user24 i mean it doesn't really matter if he can park anymore now that he's paying somebody to do it for him 🤷‍♀️
twitter • @ cl16sleftnipple -> yn's undercover fan acct
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imessage • yn -> charles
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instagram • f1fanpagemonaco
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liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others
f1fanpagemonaco the plot thickens 😱 the woman rumored to be charles leclerc's chauffer was caught parking his car and taking a photo afterward! this confirms her chauffeur status AND leads many to think that she's also the woman behind @/cl16sleftnipple on twitter. our discord members have hunted down what may be her instagram account too 🧐
view comments
user25 why do i feel so violated!!! his chauffeur has been a double agent the entire time 🤯
user26 tbh charles better be paying her beautifully !!!
user27 iktr bc i would not try to convince everybody on the internet that he can park when it's really me doing all the work!
user28 i think i'm in love with her
user29 who is this diva 💜
user30 next thing you know we're gonna find out she has a tumblr for f1 ff's 😭😭😭
user31 i think somebody is leaking the plot to the next trending netflix original movie 👄
user32 lwk i think i could convince her to drive me around in my prius 🤥
user33 you forget how to speak around hot women and only have $12.32 in your checking acct—you couldn't even convince her to breathe the same air as you bestie 😘 user32 i know you like to think that calling me bestie after reading me to filth will make up for it, but it just makes me want to strangle you even more :)
instagram • charles_leclerc
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liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others
charles_leclerc if you're going to reveal who cl16sleftnipple is, at least get her job title correct 😠 she's not my chauffeur, she's my girlfriend and parking princess 👸🏾🤗😘🥰🤭����😚
view comments
yninstagram can you believe that he doesn't like when i drive but he BEGS me to park ??? make it make sense 😅
charles_leclerc ma chérie you REFUSE to use the break pedal!!! yninstagram break pedals are 4 losers (i am speed 🏎)
user35 GIRLFRIEND???!!! 😵‍💫😵👻
user36 when you say girlfriend, do you mean that she's a friend who happens to be a girl orrrrrrrrrr?
charles_leclerc orrrrr girlfriend meaning l'amour de ma vie 🥰🥰🥰
user37 two pretty people in a happy relationship? 2025 isn't so bad 😌
user36 maybe the world is healing 🥹 user37 maybe charles leclerc wdc 2025 🫣 yninstagram pls don't jinx it 😩 go knock on wood rn 🫵🏾
user38 why did she go with "cl16sleftnipple" as her username???
yninstagram because it's my favorite one obv 😇 charles_leclerc what's wrong with my right nipple :(((( yninstagram idk it just looks at me weird sometimes... user38 how does a body part look at you weirdly 😀
user39 oh, this baddie is weird? say less, i'm sending her my credit card information rn
user40 charles leclerc core LMFAOOO
user41 waiiiiitttt does this mean she's not gonna use her fan acct anymore :(
user42 aw man i didn't even think about that; i was constantly on twt just to see what funny shit she was saying lol yninstagram if the people want more of cl16sleftnipple who am i to deny them 😌👐🏾
instagram • yninstagram
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liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others
yninstagram AITA for saving the citizens of monaco by parking my (25 F) boyfriend's (27 M) cars for him because he's incapable of fitting within two lines without being a road hazard?
comments on this post have been limited
yourfriend TLDR: she lost the plot by starting a fan twt to try and save her bf's reputation (who's notoriously known for his shit parking) it backfired bc everybody thought she was his chauffeur
yourfriend (cont.) now charles has to suffer with the world knowing that he has his gf position his cars AND that he still can't park charles_leclerc this wasn't necessary 😒 yourfriend is that what you said when it was time to learn how to parallel park ☠️
lilymhe reminds me of the time charles blocked traffic picking you up from brunch last year 😆
franciscacgomes i remember when the honks started and yn was like "oh, that probably means charles is here!" lilyzneimer first brunch i went to with the wags and i left with tinnitus from the sound of car horns blaring 🥲 yninstagram sorry little lily! next meet up will be honk free :) yninstagram ...was v embarrassing to get into the car that's blocking traffic 🫠
oscarpiastri NTA 👍🏻
oscarpiastri is now a good time to say that charles almost backed his car into me before padel yesterday? charles_leclerc NO IT WILL NEVER BE A GOOD TIME TO SAY THAT yninstagram mb the electric scooter wasn't such a bad idea…
maxverstappen1 NTA 😹😹😹
lando thinking about how much money charles loses to parking fines 🤣
olliebearman not to pray on his downfall but
olliebearman when his license gets suspended can i get the spider 🥺 arthurleclerc NUH UH 🙅🏻‍♂️ i get the spider and you get the sf90 oscarpiastri i'll take the daytona then 👍🏻 pierregasly i think i can make room for the roma 😌 charles_leclerc yeah this isn't praying, it's PLANNING on my downfall 😒😒😒
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general taglist (ask to join):
@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool
@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea
@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification
@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/
@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25
@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134
@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking
@nikfigueiredo/@bbreezyxoxo/@catreadsthings/@princessminjikwon/@il0vereadingstuff
@nissaimmortal/@justaf1girl@floweringlee
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© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos used in header and throughout are from pinterest.
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vitalverstappen · 4 months ago
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Homecoming - C. Leclerc
summary: have you ever had a massive crush on your team rival?
pairing: Charles Leclerc x Red Bull driver! reader
warnings: drinking, swearing, use of y/n
word count: 5.5k
a/n: so @coco-loco-nut (aka my irl bestie) and i both wrote fics based on the same concept, theirs is linked at the end!
smau
masterlist
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Contrary to popular opinion, Monaco was one of, if not your least favorite racetrack. It was narrow, making it hard to pass and way too easy to defend. Analysts would say all of that makes the Grand Prix exciting, while you found it to be just plain stupid. For the last half of the race, you were stuck in a DRS train in 10th, sandwiched between Alex in front and Pierre behind. 
“Fucking hell guys, this is boring.” You complained over the radio “Sorry I can’t do any better right now” 
And you couldn’t do any better the rest of the race. While your race was nowhere near eventful, you were able to get glimpses of the screens showing Charles crossing the checkered flag first at his home race. You didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on your face. He had worked all of his life for this moment. He deserved every bit of euphoria. 
You slid into parc ferme along with the rest of the midfield, barely able to get out of the car and reconnect your steering wheel fast enough. Sprinting down parc ferme, you found Charles celebrating with his team and family. When he eventually wriggled his way out of their grasp, you were able to approach him. 
“Congrats Charlie. Well deserved man” You said, embracing him in a hug 
“Thank you, thank you” Was all he was able to get out. 
As the podium celebration ensued, you and Max made your way to the media pen. Dozens of news outlets were scattered around the barrier, prompting you to separate from your teammate. The interviewer greeted you before going through the standard questions of what went wrong in the race. 
“Now let’s talk about something that happened after the race” The interviewer spoke, leading you to raise an eyebrow. “I think everyone who wasn’t looking at Leclerc was watching you run down parc ferme to greet him. Can you tell me a bit about that?” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle. At the time, you didn’t think twice about doing it, but being asked about your actions, you probably looked crazy doing it. “Yeah I mean it’s always exciting watching someone win their home race. It’s something I’ve dreamed of since I started watching Formula One as a little girl” 
A pause took over for a moment as you decided on the best way to word your next thoughts. “Charles is a very good friend of mine. He’s someone who welcomed me to the championship with open arms last year. On track I always want to give him a good fight if possible, but off the track I’m always going to support him.” 
Now Charles wasn’t usually one to eavesdrop on interviews. Most of the drivers said the same things over and over again, occasionally rephrasing. But whenever he heard your sweet southern accent, he couldn’t help but to listen in on what you had to say. 
When your words hit his ears, he could feel his heart stop. He wasn’t expecting you to confess a secret crush that no one knew you had to some interviewer, but a guy could dream. Instead, you very publicly friendzoned the Monegasque. 
Little did he know, you did in fact have a massive secret crush that only one person knew about. That one person was your teammate. And boy did he know a lot about it. 
“Did I just friendzone Charles with that?” You asked as the two of you walked towards the Red Bull garage for the team meeting. 
“Honestly maybe” Max said “Depends on if Charles is smart enough to realize you said it because you weren’t stupid enough to reveal your emotions to the media” 
“So then I definitely friendzoned him. Got it” You sighed
You weren’t sure if it was just how boring the entire day was, but the team meeting felt like it was dragging on. While you were zoning in and out of listening to Horner and Marko explain every single thing that was wrong with how you drove, you spotted Max next to you on his phone. 
“What are you doing?” You whispered 
Max’s head snapped up to look at you, quickly turning off his phone as he did so. “Oh, uh nothing” 
You shrugged, not thinking anything of Max’s reaction. He was always a private person, and you understood not wanting anyone to know your private conversations. 
Later that night, you traded your fireproofs for a little black top and jeans, as you and the grid were going out to celebrate Charles’ win. You were the last of the drivers to arrive, all of the boys jokingly blaming it on the fact you took longer to get ready, but in reality you needed the time to calm your nerves. 
You had gone to the club with the grid plenty of times before, but none of them revolved around Charles being the center of attention. You knew he was going to be bouncing around the group, spending time with everyone, and you were sure you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself. 
Meanwhile, Charles was worrying about himself. When he drank, he got flirty. He knew it, Max knew it, even the fans knew it. The only person he was sure didn’t know was you. And that was only because he never drank as much as he usually does when he’s around you. 
He was already a few drinks deep when you finally showed up. He was near the back of the room, but he could spot your figure from a mile away. As you navigated through the sweaty bodies and sticky floors, Charles was easily able to get your attention by a wave of his hand. 
That wave turned into a hug, followed by a kiss on either cheek from the Monegasque. You realized it was just a cultural difference, and that’s how he greeted all of his female friends, but that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering. 
“Congrats again Charlie” You said finally spoke 
“Thank you mon amour, why don't I get you a drink to celebrate?” He asked, his words already starting to slur a bit 
“I can pay for myself. If anything so should be getting you a drink, for the winner after all” You replied. 
“No, no, no. Let me get it for you.” He insisted “You wouldn’t want to disappoint the winner, now would you?” 
You knew you weren’t going to win this round, so you let him buy you a drink. He followed you up to the bar where he easily got the attention of the bartender. 
“Moscow mule and a vodka redbull, blue edition” He ordered
Your head snapped to look at him, surprised he knew what you wanted. Regardless of how many times you’ve gone out drinking with him, you knew you never told him what your usual was. 
“You know my drink order?” You asked 
“I’m just that good” He shrugged as the bartender handed him the beverages. Charles handed you the vodka redbull as the two of you walked away from the bar. “Feel free to put the rest of your drinks on my tab tonight” 
It was a no-brainer that Charles was going to be the center of attention all night. Not even thirty seconds after you got your drinks, his childhood friends whisked him away. Then it was his friends from Ferrari. And then his brothers. And then those people who claimed they were friends with him, but only got close with him after he became famous. 
But no matter how many times he got carried away, he always found his way back to you. Even if it was just for a second, Charles made sure he checked on you throughout the night. 
The majority of your night was spent with Max, Logan and Oscar. You were lucky you got along well with your teammate, and you, Logan, and Oscar all grew close due to being the rookies the season prior. It also helped that Logan was the only other American on the grid. 
“So what’s going on between you and Charles?” Oscar asked 
“Oh uh nothing. We’re just friends” You said, hoping the Aussie would drop the topic 
Unfortunately for you, Logan decided to call you out. “Oh bullshit. I overheard him insisting on buying your drinks tonight, and we all saw you sprinting earlier to congratulate him” 
“Charles is too drunk to realize what he’s offering” You quickly dismissed 
“Still doesn’t explain your actions in parc ferme” Logan reminded
You looked to Max for help, only for the Dutchman to shrug.
“You are no help” You told him as you turned to the two others “I may have a small crush on him” 
Max almost did a spit take when he registered your words. “Small? You were doodling both of your initials together during the team meeting today.”
“Details, details. How about another round?” You suggested, quickly changing the subject. 
The four of you had just finished a round of shots when you saw Charles approaching from behind Max. The Monagasque rested his arm on Max’s shoulder, clearly needing stability. His eyes widened and a goofy smile formed on his face when he saw you. 
“There you are!” Charles slurred, moving his arm from Max’s shoulders to yours 
“Oooohkayy, I think it’s time for you to go home” You said, shifting to support his weight better “C’mon Charlie”
“Ooo Charlie” Logan teased 
You shot the American a glare, mouthing the words “not now”. Charles somehow got himself off of you, only to wrap his arms around himself, embracing his own body in a hug. 
“Uh, are you good?” Oscar asked Charles, his voice filled with concern 
“Yes, just thanking myself for coming out tonight. I picked a great bar” Charles answered with a goofy grin forming on his face. His eyes were shut as he swayed back and forth, almost knocking into a poor girl behind him. 
Apologies quickly fell out of your mouth to the girl. As you turned back to the group, all of the boys except Charles had worry plastered on their faces. Both Max and Oscar offered to help you take Charles home, but you turned them down. His place was only a few blocks away, and your hotel was about the same. You slung Charles’ arm over your shoulder, before bidding goodbye to your friends. 
“Bye Charlieeee” Logan teased his fingers waving goodbye. Another glare was shot from your eyes before Charles was carried out to the street. 
It didn’t take long to get Charles to his apartment. You insisted he sit down as you got him a glass of water, knowing he was too far from sober to do it without breaking or hurting something. Once he downed his first non alcoholic beverage in who knows how long, he changed and you put him to bed. 
You were sober and comfortable enough to walk yourself home, so once Charles was tucked in, you slipped your shoes on. Before you could get near the door though, you heard Charles calling your name. 
“What’s up?” You whispered as you opened the door to his bedroom. 
His eyes mimicked a puppy dog, pleading and full of concern. “I don’t want this to sound weird, but do you want to stay in the guest room tonight? I just don’t want you walking alone in the dark” 
Even though you knew you’d be fine walking home, you knew Charles would blame himself if something did happen to you. So, you agreed. You changed into one of Charles’s shirts that he insisted on you sleeping in, and made your way to the guest room. 
Neither of you dared to bring up what happened in Monaco. Not that anything bad happened, it was simply you didn’t know how the other felt, and it wasn’t a line either of you were comfortable crossing yet. 
Going into media day, you knew the press conference was going to be boring. It was Monza weekend, and your media group consisted of Lando, Pierre, Franco, and Charles. Having the attention on Charles was fine by you. You would be fine without the media taking your words out of context. 
With each question directed at Charles, you zoned out more and more. Thoughts of what you were going to do during the three week break crossed your mind. While traveling around the world for work was fun, home truly was where your heart lived. Your thoughts were cut off by someone tapping you. Looking to your right, Franco’s eyes met yours.
You had made some small talk with Franco throughout the day, wanting to welcome him into the league the same way you were last year. It was painful to receive the news that Logan was being replaced, but you couldn’t resent the newcomer, he just happened to be the one that was promoted.
“Is this usually this insufferable?” He whispered, genuine concern lacing his voice 
You stifled a laugh, careful not to interrupt Charles “Not this bad usually, but yeah it’s bad” 
“Great” He muttered “Thought I escaped it when I got promoted” 
The press room grew silent, leading you and Franco to press pause on your conversation. All eyes were on the two of you, while you guys gave blank stares back. 
“Did you hear the question?” The interviewer asked 
Franco chuckled awkwardly as he brought the microphone to his mouth. “Honestly? No. Bad first impression, so sorry” 
“No worries. Welcome to F1 Franco.” The interviewer said “For a fun question for the drivers: is there a certain trait that another driver has that you wish you had?” 
Franco thought for a second before opening his mouth to speak “Y/n’s friendliness I think. She was the first of the drivers to welcome me into F1, going out of her way to go to the Williams garage and introduce herself. So uh yeah, her friendliness” 
Warmth ran to your cheeks as the Argentinian turned to look at you. His smile was captivating, making your rosy glow even worse. 
“Wow, that was really sweet. Thank you Franco” You whispered before clearing your throat and picking the microphone up.
Your eyes landed on each of the drivers in the room, trying to think of any trait you would want from any of them. Charles’ ability to learn on the fly came to mind, but you couldn’t rave about Charles without revealing your feelings. 
“Ummmm, this may be team bias, but I’m probably going to have to pick Max.” You finally answered “His ability to perform under immense pressure is admirable. Going into last season as a rookie, I don’t think I could have asked for a better partner, or a better person to learn from.” 
The press conference wrapped up, the news stations leaving before the drivers could. You sat and talked to Franco a bit more, getting to know the newest driver better. Charles watched from the other side of the couch, trying not to make it too obvious. 
“Earth to Charles” Lando said, waving his hand in front of the Monegasque’s face
“Wha-what’s up?” Charles asked, snapping his head to look at Lando
“You were staring. Badly.” Lando pointed out 
“Not staring,” Charles defended, but the pink in his cheeks gave him away “Just…observing” 
“Sure, mate.” Lando smirked as he stood up, “You know, if you actually told her how you feel, you wouldn’t have to watch from a distance like a creep” 
“Really? I had no idea” Charles mumbled. He was relieved to see you didn’t hear what Lando had just said, as you were too engulfed in your conversation with Franco. 
“Just saying” The Brit continued “Everyone can see the chemistry between you two”
Charles adjusted his hat as he stood up next to his friend. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship. What if it goes wrong?” 
Lando rolled his eyes. “Or it could go right. Look at how she talks to you, how she lights up around you. That’s not just a friendship, mate. She clearly likes you.”
Charles stole another glance at you, your eyes still focused on Franco. With one last sigh, he left the conference room, almost slamming the door behind him.
“What was that all about?” Franco asked you as he looked at the now shut door across the room
“I have no idea” You admitted  “Whatever it is, he’ll get over it”
The Austin sun blazed through the sky as you entered the paddock. You always loved being back home, and of course you went all out for it. You had your hair in two braided pigtails with your favorite cowboy hat resting on top, and a matching pair of boots tucked under your blue jeans. 
Most of the other drivers played into the gimmicks that Texas brought, even if they didn’t do them right. Some donned backwards cowboy hats while others tucked their jeans into their boots, both leading you to wince. Some, like Charles, did both.
“You look absolutely ridiculous” You yelled down the paddock as you spotted Charles in the middle of a media scrum
From what you could tell, they were in the middle of an unboxing of some sorts. Plastic and paper wrapping littered the area as a box was cracked open. Both Charles and the media turned to watch you walk over. 
“What are you talking about? I look fabulous” Charles said, showing off his new hat 
“Yeah,” You replied as you approached him “Except for the fact your hat’s the wrong way and your jeans are tucked in.” 
Before Charles could protest, you took the hat off of his head (from the crown of course, you weren’t an animal) and flipped it. His cheeks grew hot, both from embarrassment and how close you were to him. 
“Thank you” He whispered before untucking his jeans 
Saturday went perfectly for Red Bull. Max won the sprint, while you took second, giving the team a few more points in the Constructor’s race. 
As your day in the paddock came to a close, there was only one thing on your mind: the Texas/Georgia game. Growing up right outside the city meant your Saturdays were spent cheering on the Longhorns, and today was no different. 
You found Charles leaving the paddock at the exact same time you were, giving you the perfect opportunity to ask if he wanted to join you. While you knew he knew nothing about football, it at least gave you an excuse to spend a little extra time with him during the weekend. 
“What’s the chance you’re not doing anything tonight?” You asked as you caught up to him.
“Easily 100%. Do you have something in mind?” He replied 
“I have an extra VIP ticket to the game tonight and a spare jersey. Wanna join?” 
“You know I don’t know anything about American football” He reminded you. Charles truly wanted to go, but he didn’t want to bring your experience down because he was an idiot.  
“Pleaseeee” You begged, flashing him a fake pout “I promise you’ll have fun” 
Charles ran his hand through his hair before sighing “Okay. But this better not ruin my race tomorrow” 
You were right, Charles did have fun. Most of the time was spent on the sidelines, getting up close to the action. Charles didn’t understand a lick of what was going on, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to. You walked him through all of the basic things he should know, like touchdowns, field goals, and extra points. 
And Charles would let you talk for days if he could. He was captivated by how your intonation changed as you explained the difference between a pass, a rush, and a kick attempt. Did any of what you said stick in his head? Absolutely not. But that didn’t matter. He was with you, and you were with him, and about 100,000 other people in the stadium.    
The rest of the weekend only got better for you. Not only were you working your way into Charles’ heart, you made your way to the top step of the podium. You knew Max was going to be aggressive going into turn one, giving you ample opportunity to sneak into the lead, where you stayed for the rest of the race. Both Charles and Max were on the podium with you, P2 and P3 respectively. 
“So would you say last night affected your race?” You asked Charles once you got to the cool down room. You quickly swapped the helmet in your hands for a towel and the Pirelli cap that were waiting for you. 
Charles chuckled “Maybe, I coulda ended up on the top step” 
You shrugged as you took your seat in the middle of the two boys. “Guess we’ll never know” 
After the formalities and shenanigans of the podium ceremony, you found yourself in the back of the media pen waiting for your turn for an open interviewer. You could feel a presence walking up to you, causing you to turn. Of all people, Franco was the one to approach. The two of you were decent friends, you being one of the first people to welcome him to the F1 grid. 
“Congrats on the win, amiga” Franco said, bringing you in for a hug 
“Thank you, thank you” You replied, “How was your first race at COTA?” 
“It was good! Definitely glad to be racing closer to home. I can’t wait for the next three in the Americas” He said 
As you and Franco made small talk, Charles was watching you like a hawk from across the pen. He listened to every laugh that came out of your mouth from something Franco said, analyzed every light hearted touch of the arm. Max was next to him, well aware of the events of the night prior. It was hard for him to not know about it, you would not stop talking about it in the paddock. 
“The way he held me? I felt like the only girl in the stadium” “He let me explain football to him, Max. No one ever lets me do that around here” “Are you sure he feels the same way about me?” Were all phrases that left your mouth earlier in the day. 
Max was positive Charles felt the same way about you that you did about him. Any of the few remaining doubts flew out the window as he listened to Charles whine. 
“Whatever he said cannot be that funny, right?” Charles asked “Like there’s no way”
Max muttered a “mhm” as he took a sip of the Red Bull in his hand. 
“I just don’t get how he does it so easily! What is it about him that makes him that likeable?” Charles asked “Is it the accent?” 
“Maybe it’s because he’s a natural flirt.” Max said “You couldn’t flirt with a brick if you tried” 
Charles’ glare left Franco and turned to the Dutchman next to him “You didn’t need to say that.” Max threw his hands up in defense.
“But what am I supposed to do if she can’t understand my flirting?” Charles asked 
“Just tell her how you feel. Ask her out on a date” Max suggested as if it was obvious. 
“That’s just asking for her to run me off the track in the next race” The Monagasque said. He ignored Lando’s advice in Monza, and he was likely to do the same to Max. 
A frustrated groan left Max’s mouth as he smacked the back side of his friend’s head. “Oh my god. Do I have to spell it out? She likes you.” 
Charles’ eyebrows furrowed as he watched you say goodbye to the Argentenian. A spot had opened up in the media pen, and Charles’ eyes followed you as you greeted the interviewer. 
“How do you know that?” He asked 
“Mate, she took you to the Texas game yesterday.  She doesn’t take just anyone. I’ve known her for years and I still haven’t gotten an invite.” He explained “In the garage, she wouldn’t shut up about how much fun she had with you last night.” 
“Really?” Charles asked. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his friend’s mouth. 
“Yes, really. Now if you don’t tell her how you feel, I’m going to do it for you.” Max threatened as he walked towards the next open interviewer.
The bar buzzed with excitement as the sun dipped below the horizon. It being your home race, you ordered both your friends on and off the grid to join in the celebrations. Most of the guys were already there, already a few rounds deep, but it wasn’t until a certain Ferrari driver walked in that you relaxed. 
Charles navigated the crowd, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. When he spotted you at the bar, a grin spread across his face. He made his way over, squeezing through the sea of fans and drivers. 
“There you are!” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I've been looking for the race winner!” 
“Yeah, you’ve been avoiding me since the podium” you teased, crossing your arms 
“Right, totally” He fake agreed “Now, drinks on me?” 
A playful smile broke onto your lips as you turned to face the driver. “Actually, I believe it’s my turn. You got me in Monaco, it’s only fair” 
Charles opened his mouth to protest, but you already had gotten the attention of the bartender. He watched as you put up two fingers, and the bartender quickly got to work. As he waited, he was able to catch snippets of chatter and laughter from the rest of the people in the bar. Logan made the trip out to Austin, and was in deep conversation with Oscar and Alex, while Max and Lando were cracking jokes about their battle during the race. 
You handed Charles one of the two drinks you had received “To a dominant 1-2 finish” you toasted, clinking your glass against yours
He took a sip, the refreshing taste of the cocktail invigorating “This is really good. What is it?” He asked, looking at his drink 
“Texas Cactus Water” You answered “Tequila, lime juice, and Topo Chico”
The night wore on, and with each passing drink, the atmosphere became more lively. You were in your element, charming everyone around you. You were sure to spread your attention out to everyone who came to celebrate your win, but you always found yourself going back to him.
“Want another round?” he asked after the two of you finished your drinks.
“Yeah, sure. Put it on my tab” You ordered, knowing he would have said the same to you. 
As Charles approached the bar, Franco suddenly appeared by your side, a broad grin on his face. “Looks like you’ve got quite the fan club” he joked, nodding toward Charles, who was deep in conversation with the bartender. 
“He’s just being nice” You replied, not wanting to think too much about the flutter in your stomach at Charles’ attention “He bought my drinks in Monaco, so I’ve been returning the favor.
Franco raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe he likes you a little more than just ‘nice’,” he said, smirking.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Please, we’re just friends. He’s friendly with everyone.”
“Yeah, but he looks at you differently. Just saying,” Franco teased, nudging your arm before slipping away to join some other drivers.
When Charles returned with another round of drinks, he slid next to you, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. “What’s got you smiling like that?” he asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.
“Oh, just Franco being... well, Franco,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Yeah? What did he say?” Charles pressed, his expression shifting to one of interest.
“Nothing important. Just... you know, how great it is to be back in Austin,” you deflected, not wanting to reveal the fluttering thoughts swirling in your mind.
Charles studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure? Because I could always tell him to back off if he’s bothering you,” he offered, his protectiveness shining through.
You laughed lightly. “I appreciate that, but really, it’s fine.”
As the night progressed, Charles seemed to loosen up even more, the drinks giving him a playful edge. He began to get a bit flirtier, leaning closer and making exaggerated gestures as he animatedly recounted his day.
At one point, he casually brushed your arm while reaching for his drink. The simple touch sent a rush of warmth through you. You could sense the tension building between you two, an electricity that was impossible to ignore.
You tried to focus on what he was saying, but the lingering sensation from his touch was hard to shake off. Each time he leaned closer, you felt that flutter in your stomach intensify, battling with the excitement of the moment. 
“So, what’s your strategy for Mexico City?” you asked, hoping to redirect the conversation and distract yourself from the undeniable chemistry brewing between you
Charles grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Honestly? Just to keep up with you. I’ve seen how competitive you can be, and I want to push myself more.” 
You smirked, leaning close enough in to get a whiff of his cologne “Is that so? You better be prepared for a good fight” 
He laughed, the sound deep and warm, and for a moment, the world around you faded. “I’d expect nothing less” he replied. His voice was low, and you could see a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. 
Just then, Max, Lando and Logan rejoined you, breaking the spell. 
“What were you two whispering about?” Lando asked, a mischievous grin on his face 
“Just race strategies” you said quickly, shooting a glance at Charles. The Monagasque nodded, playing along, but you could see a hint of disappointment in his eyes at the interruption
“Strategies for what? How to sneak out of here without us noticing?” Logan chimed in. You shot him a glare in response. 
“Oh come on” Charles said, his eyes rolling but amusement still danced on his face “We’re just having a good time” 
Max leaned in, the smell of alcohol on his lips as he smirked “Just make sure you keep it PG, yeah? Red Bull doesn’t need any headlines about you sleeping with the enemy” 
You lightly punched your teammate, causing him to flinch. “I can handle my own headlines, thank you very much” 
The group continued to joke and banter, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Charles. He was laughing and enjoying himself, but every so often, his gaze would flicker back to you, that intensity returning.
As the night wore on, the playful atmosphere shifted to something more intimate when the music slowed down. You found yourself back at the bar with Charles, the noise of the party around you dimming to a soft buzz. Both of you had too many drinks, and it was evident by the conversation you were having. 
“Do you ever think what happens after this?” he asked, his tone serious
You looked up at him, surprised. “After what? The day? The season?”
He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I mean, after all this. When we’re not racing anymore. What do you want?” 
Charles’ question caught you off guard. It was a vulnerability you weren’t expecting. “I-” you started, then paused, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I want to keep doing what I love. Traveling, meeting new people, but also taking the time to enjoy moments like this.” 
He nodded, absorbing your words. “Yeah, me too. I’ve realized these moments are what make the job worth it” 
You could feel the tension building again, that electric connection almost palpable. “So what do we do about it?” you asked, your heart racing
Charles looked at you, his expression softening, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the world around you disappeared again. “Maybe we should stop pretending and just see where this goes?” He suggested, finally confronting the elephant in the room
The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip “You mean…?” 
He wasn’t sure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the amount of drinks, or maybe it was due to your true feelings finally being on display tonight. “Yeah, I mean if we both feel it, why not explore it?” 
You felt a rush of emotions - excitement, fear, hope. “I’d like that” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Before you could process what was happening, Charles leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. It took a second to kiss him back, but when you did, it was everything you had dreamed of since you first met him. 
Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted from the other side of the bar, pulling you away from each other. All of the other drivers were staring at you, each pair of eyes matched with a shit eating grin. 
“You wanna get out of here?” You asked 
“Yeah, I’d like that” Charles said, taking your hand 
======
want more? check out @coco-loco-nut's sister story below!
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imthebadguyyy · 9 months ago
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whose afraid of little old me?
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pairing : f1 drivers x reader
fandom : f1
series : the tortured poets department
synopsis : your journey as a female driver alongside the rest of the grid.
warnings : angst
a/n : first time writing a platonic drivers x reader! let me know what you think! :)
you don't get to tell me about sad..
The press room was buzzing with anticipation as the Formula 1 drivers filed in for the pre-race conference. As the only female driver on the grid, you were well aware of the extra attention you garnered, but you had grown used to it. Today, you were seated between Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc, both of whom you had become close friends with during your time at Mercedes.
The questions started out as they always did: race strategies, car updates, and general banter about the upcoming Grand Prix. You handled them with the confidence and poise that had become your trademark. Then, a reporter from the back of the room stood up, his tone less than friendly
"Y/N," he began, "there's been a lot of talk about the difficulties you've faced as the only female driver on the grid. Some say you're out of your depth and that your results reflect that. How do you respond to the criticism that you don't belong here and that it's just too hard for you?"
You felt a surge of frustration. This wasn’t the first time you’d faced such pointed and unfair questions, but today, it stung more than usual. Before you could respond, you felt Lewis shift beside you, a silent show of support. Taking a deep breath, you looked the reporter in the eye.
"You don’t get to tell me about sad," you said, your voice steady and firm. "You don’t get to tell me about the difficulties I’ve faced or what I can handle. I’ve earned my place here just like every other driver on this grid, through talent, hard work, and perseverance. Criticism and doubt are part of the journey, but I’m here to stay."
The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. For a moment, the reporter looked taken aback, but before he could say anything, Charles spoke up.
"Y/N has proven time and again that she belongs here," Charles said, his tone protective. "She’s one of the most dedicated and talented drivers I know, and it’s about time she gets the respect she deserves."
Lewis nodded, leaning forward to address the room. "We’re a team, and we support each other. Y/N has brought incredible strength and determination to Mercedes, and I have no doubt she’ll continue to achieve great things. If anyone here thinks otherwise, they clearly haven’t been paying attention."
The support from your fellow drivers warmed your heart, and you saw nods of agreement from others around the room. Even drivers from rival teams like Max Verstappen and Lando Norris were giving you supportive looks.
The reporter, clearly outnumbered and outmatched, mumbled a quick thank you and sat down. The rest of the press conference went smoothly, with more respectful and genuine questions.
As you left the stage, Lewis put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You handled that perfectly, Y/N. Don't let anyone make you doubt yourself."
Charles grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. "We’ve got your back, always."
Walking out of the press room with your head held high, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with the support of your teammates and fellow drivers, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way.
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nothing makes me feel more alive...
The roar of the crowd at Silverstone was deafening as you took the final corner, the checkered flag waving wildly in the air. This was it. You were about to win your first Grand Prix, and not just any race—it was Silverstone, the home of British motorsport.
"Y/N, you’ve done it! You’ve won the British Grand Prix!" your race engineer shouted over the radio, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of celebration.
Tears of joy streamed down your face as you crossed the finish line. "Oh my God! We did it! We did it! Thank you, thank you so much!" you screamed, unable to contain your excitement.
As you brought the car to a stop in Parc Fermé, the realization of your achievement hit you full force. You had won. You had really done it. Climbing out of the car, you were immediately surrounded by your jubilant team, all eager to celebrate this historic moment with you. You jumped into their arms, laughter and cheers filling the air.
Lewis, who had finished third, approached with a wide grin. "Incredible job, Y/N! Welcome to the winners' circle," he said, pulling you into a tight hug.
Max, who had taken second place, clapped you on the back. "Amazing race! You deserve this," he said with genuine admiration.
The podium ceremony felt surreal. As you stood on the top step, the anthem playing, you looked out over the sea of fans cheering your name. You felt a wave of pride and accomplishment wash over you. When the national anthem ended, you picked up the bottle of champagne, the weight of it solid and reassuring in your hands.
Lewis and Max joined you, and the three of you shared a look before simultaneously popping the corks and spraying each other with champagne. The cold, fizzy liquid drenched you, but you couldn’t stop laughing, your joy infectious.
Grabbing the microphone for the post-race interview, you took a moment to compose yourself before speaking. "This is the best moment of my life. Nothing makes me feel more alive than being out there on the track, pushing myself to the limit, and achieving something I’ve dreamed about since I was a little girl. Thank you to my team, to the fans, and to everyone who believed in me. This is just the beginning."
The crowd erupted in applause, their cheers echoing in your ears as you continued to celebrate with your team and fellow drivers. This victory was not just a personal triumph, but a statement to everyone watching: you belonged here, and you were just getting started.
As you left the podium, still grinning from ear to ear, you were greeted by more hugs and congratulations from your team. Toto Wolff, your team principal, pulled you into a warm embrace. "I knew you had it in you," he said, his voice full of pride. "This is only the beginning."
Walking away from the podium, champagne-soaked and elated, you felt an overwhelming sense of fulfillment. You had proven to yourself and the world that you could do it. And as you looked out at the sea of faces cheering for you, you knew that nothing could ever take this moment away from you.
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so i leap from the gallows and i levitate down your street..
The aftermath of the Spanish Grand Prix was a cacophony of disbelief, exhilaration, and redemption. For weeks, you had been the subject of harsh criticism from pundits and commentators, their scathing remarks suggesting you were a failure, a shame to the sport. They doubted your abilities, questioning your place on the grid. The words stung, but they also fueled a fire within you that blazed brighter than ever.
"So, I leap from the gallows," you whispered to yourself as you took the final corner, the finish line in sight. The car beneath you was an extension of your will, each turn, each acceleration a defiant answer to the doubters. You crossed the line first, your heart pounding as you realized what you had just achieved.
"Y/N, you did it! You won the Spanish Grand Prix!" your race engineer's voice crackled over the radio, bursting with pride and excitement.
"I did it," you repeated, the weight of your victory sinking in. "We did it!"
The cool-down lap was a blur of tears and joy. You had proven them wrong. The people who had criticized you, who had doubted your skill and determination, were silenced by the roar of your engine and the unwavering support of your team.
As you pulled into Parc Fermé, the roar of the crowd was deafening. Stepping out of the car, you were immediately enveloped in the arms of your team, their cheers and tears mingling with your own. You felt a sense of triumph that was almost surreal, a weight lifting off your shoulders.
Carlos Sainz, who had finished second, approached with a proud smile. "Incredible drive, Y/N. You showed them all," he said, pulling you into a congratulatory hug.
Oscar Piastri, who had finished third, hugged you tight"That was one hell of a race. Well done," he said, his voice affectionate.
The podium ceremony was a whirlwind of emotions. Standing on the top step, the anthem playing in the background, you felt a sense of vindication. The crowd’s cheers were a testament to your hard work and resilience.
When the time came to spray the champagne, you did so with a vengeance, soaking Carlos and Oscar as they laughed and joined in the celebration. The cold spray was a refreshing reminder of the moment you had seized, the victory you had earned.
During the post-race interview, you held the microphone firmly, looking out at the sea of fans and reporters. "For those who doubted me," you began, your voice steady and strong, "this is my answer. So I leap from the gallows, and I levitate down your street. I've faced the criticisms, the doubts, and I’ve come out on top. This win is for my team, for my supporters, and for everyone who believes that dreams are worth fighting for."
The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers a resounding affirmation of your triumph. As you left the stage, still soaked in champagne and adrenaline, you felt lighter than air. You had not only proven your critics wrong, but you had also proven something to yourself: that you were capable of greatness.
Back in the garage, Toto greeted you with a proud smile. "You were phenomenal out there. This is just the beginning," he said, his voice filled with conviction.
Walking through the paddock, the looks of respect and admiration from fellow drivers and team members were a stark contrast to the doubts and criticisms you had faced. You had leapt from the metaphorical gallows and soared, showing everyone that you were here to stay.
As you drove out of the circuit later that evening, the streets of Barcelona seemed to glow with a new light. The city's energy matched your own, vibrant and unstoppable. You had faced the gallows and emerged victorious, levitating down the streets of triumph and possibility. And you knew, deep in your heart, that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey
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whose afraid of little old me? you should be...
The glitz and glamour of the post-race party in Monaco was in full swing, with drivers, team principals, and VIP guests mingling in celebration of another thrilling Grand Prix. You were enjoying the night, surrounded by the camaraderie of your fellow drivers and the electric atmosphere of the event.
As you made your way through the crowd, chatting with Carlos and Lando, a random guy who clearly wasn’t part of the usual racing crowd approached. He had a smug look on his face, his steps unsteady from one too many drinks.
"Hey, isn’t this the famous female driver?" he said loudly, drawing the attention of those around him. "Nice of you to join us, sweetheart. Shouldn’t you be somewhere polishing your car or something? Or maybe you’re just here because you look good in a dress."
His words were met with a few awkward chuckles from those who didn’t know how to react. You felt a surge of anger but kept your composure. Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your eyes locking onto his.
"You know," you began, your voice calm but laced with steel, "it’s funny you mention polishing cars. Considering you probably have never even seen the inside of one that’s been on a racetrack, I’d say your expertise on the subject is pretty limited. As for my looks, let’s just say I'd rather be known for my talent than for crashing parties and making snarky remarks to people I don’t know."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable. The guy’s smirk faltered, replaced by a look of surprise and irritation. Before he could respond, you continued.
"I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Every race, every victory, is a testament to my skill and dedication. You can try to demean me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that I’ve earned my place here. And by the way, the only reason you’re even noticed right now is because you’re making a scene. Maybe next time, you should think before you speak."
A ripple of laughter and applause broke out among the onlookers. The guy’s face reddened with embarrassment and anger, but he had no retort. He muttered something under his breath and turned away.
Lando, who had been watching the exchange with an amused grin, stepped forward. "You should be afraid of her," he said to the group, his tone light but sincere. "She’s not just fast on the track, she’s got the sharpest tongue in the paddock."
You smiled at Lando, appreciating his support. "Thanks, Lando. Sometimes people need a reminder."
Carlos nodded, clapping you on the back. "You handled that perfectly. That guy didn’t know what hit him."
With a sweet, innocent expression, you tilted your head slightly and asked, "Who's afraid of little old me?"
Carlos turned to the retreating guy, his tone serious and unwavering. "You should be."
The random guy's pace quickened as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you, Carlos, and Lando laughing and feeling victorious. The atmosphere lightened, and you found yourself surrounded by friends and allies who respected and supported you. The sting of the random guy’s words faded quickly, replaced by the warmth of genuine camaraderie. You knew that the road ahead would have its challenges, but moments like this reminded you that you were more than capable of facing them head-on.
Later, as you stood on a balcony overlooking the glittering Monaco skyline, Lando joined you, offering a glass of champagne. "To standing up for yourself," he toasted.
You clinked glasses, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "To proving them wrong," you replied, taking a sip and savoring the sweet taste of victory and vindication.
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is it a wonder i broke, let's hear one more joke...
The opulent ballroom of the Monaco casino was alight with the energy of a sponsorship party, a glittering event where drivers mingled with sponsors, team principals, and celebrities. You were making your way through the crowd, putting on a brave face despite the whispers and stares. It was supposed to be a night of celebration, but for you, it was quickly turning into a test of endurance.
One of the sponsors, a man named Richard, seemed to have taken a special interest in making snide remarks at your expense. His laughter echoed through the room as he made yet another joke about you. "Oh, look, it’s the token female driver! How many races did you have to finish to get this seat? Or is it more about how you look in the team’s gear?" he jeered, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.
The people around him chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. You forced a smile, trying to brush it off, but inside, you felt your confidence crumbling. You excused yourself, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom, and quickly made your way to the nearest bathroom.
Once inside, you locked the door behind you and let the tears fall. The pressure, the constant scrutiny, the never-ending need to prove yourself—it all came crashing down. You sank to the floor, sobbing quietly, feeling utterly alone in that moment.
Unbeknownst to you, Lewis Hamilton had been watching from a distance. He had seen the way Richard had been treating you all night and noticed the moment you fled. Concerned, he made his way to the bathroom, hesitating only for a moment before gently knocking on the door.
"Y/N? It’s Lewis. Are you okay?" he called softly.
Hearing his voice, you tried to pull yourself together, wiping at your tears. "I’m fine, Lewis. Just… give me a moment."
But Lewis wasn’t about to leave you alone. He opened the door slowly, stepping inside and closing it behind him. When he saw you sitting on the floor, tears streaming down your face, his heart broke. He crouched down beside you, his expression one of deep empathy.
"Hey," he said gently, his voice soft and soothing. "I’m here. Talk to me."
You looked up at him, your vision blurred by tears. "It’s just… it’s too much sometimes, you know? The jokes, the comments… I’m trying so hard, but it feels like it’s never enough."
Lewis reached out, taking your hand in his. "You are more than enough, Y/N. You are an incredible driver and an even more incredible person. Don’t let anyone, especially not some ignorant sponsor, make you feel otherwise."
His words brought fresh tears to your eyes, but this time they were tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice trembling.
He sat down beside you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I know it’s hard. I’ve been there, too. But you have to remember why you’re here. You’ve earned your place on the grid. You’ve proven yourself time and time again. And you’ve got so many people who believe in you, including me."
You buried your face in his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence. "I just don’t know how much more of this I can take," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
Lewis pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "You are stronger than you think. And you don’t have to face this alone. We’re a team, remember? We’ve got your back."
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing the pain and fear. You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more grounded. "Thanks, Lewis. I don’t know what I’d do without you."
He smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek. "You’ll never have to find out. Now, how about we go back out there and show them what you’re made of?"
With his support, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You nodded, allowing him to help you to your feet. As you both left the bathroom, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you weren’t facing them alone. You had friends, allies, and a team who believed in you, and that made all the difference.
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i was tame, i was gentle, till the circus life made me mean..
The press conference room was packed, the atmosphere buzzing with anticipation. You sat between two fellow drivers, trying to maintain your composure as the questions came one after another. Lately, the questions directed at you had become more personal and offensive, straying far from your performance on the track.
As the reporters took turns, a journalist from the back raised his hand and was given the microphone. He stood up, a smug look on his face. "Y/N, there's been a lot of curiosity among fans about what kind of underwear you wear under your race suit. Care to enlighten us?"
The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt a mix of anger and disbelief. This was the final straw.
You leaned forward, your eyes blazing. "Are you serious? I'm here to talk about my performance on the track, not my underwear. The fact that you think it's appropriate to ask me such a disrespectful and invasive question speaks volumes about your professionalism—or lack thereof."
The reporter's face turned red as he tried to stammer a response, but you cut him off, your voice steady and strong. "I have worked incredibly hard to earn my place here, just like every other driver on this grid. I will not tolerate being reduced to such trivial and sexist remarks. If you can't treat me with the same respect you show my male colleagues, then you have no place in this room."
You stood up abruptly, the microphone falling silent as you walked out of the press conference, your head held high. The room was stunned into silence, the other reporters unsure how to react.
Lewis, who was sitting beside you, took the microphone next. "That was completely unacceptable," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Y/N is a talented driver who deserves respect. It's disgraceful that she has to deal with questions like that."
Carlos, seated on your other side, nodded in agreement. "We are here to discuss our careers and our performance, not to entertain inappropriate and sexist questions. Y/N handled that with grace, and she has our full support."
The room remained silent, the gravity of the situation sinking The other drivers on the stage exchanged looks of solidarity, making it clear that they stood with you.
Backstage, you leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. The door opened, and Lewis and Carlos walked in, their expressions filled with concern and support.
"Hey," Lewis said softly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You did the right thing. That was completely out of line."
Carlos nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. "You handled it perfectly. We're all behind you."
You smiled weakly, grateful for their support. "Thanks, guys. I just couldn't take it anymore."
Lewis shook his head, his eyes filled with determination. "No one should have to deal with that. We're going to make sure it doesn't happen again."
Feeling a surge of gratitude and strength from their words, you nodded. "Together, we can make a difference."
As you returned to the paddock, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. You knew that you had allies who respected and supported you, and you were determined to continue proving yourself on and off the track. The road ahead would still have its challenges, but you were ready to face them head-on, with your head held high and your team by your side.
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then say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?...
The news hit you like a freight train. Mercedes had decided to drop you from the team for the next season. The decision came shortly after Lewis announced his departure to Ferrari, leaving you feeling isolated and abandoned. You had poured your heart and soul into your racing career, and now it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you.
The paddock was a whirlwind of activity as the season drew to a close, but you felt like a ghost moving through it. Every smile, every cheer, felt like a reminder of what you were losing. You tried to put on a brave face, but inside, you were struggling.
One evening, after a particularly tough day, you found yourself wandering aimlessly through the paddock. Your thoughts were a chaotic mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. You ended up in a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes and constant noise, trying to hold yourself together.
Charles noticed you standing there, your shoulders slumped and your expression distant. He approached you cautiously, his concern evident. "Y/N, are you okay?"
You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. "They dropped me, Charles. Mercedes just dropped me. And with Lewis leaving too... I feel so alone."
Charles stepped closer, his expression sympathetic. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I know this must be incredibly hard for you."
You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure. "Why did they do this, Charles? After everything, why now?"
Charles gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "They didn't do it to hurt you. Sometimes teams make decisions that are hard to understand, but it's not always about us personally."
His words were meant to comfort, but they only made the pain sharper. "But what if they did?" you whispered, your voice breaking. "What if they did it to hurt me?"
The dam broke, and the tears you had been holding back spilled over. Charles pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. His embrace was warm and comforting, offering a safe space to release the torrent of emotions you had been keeping inside.
"It's okay, let it out," Charles murmured softly, his voice soothing. "You're not alone, Y/N. We're all here for you."
You clung to him, the weight of your grief and fear pouring out. "I gave everything to this team," you sobbed. "I don't know what to do now."
Charles held you tighter, his heart aching for you. "I know it's hard, but this isn't the end. You're an incredible driver, and there are other teams out there that would be lucky to have you. Don't let this define you."
His words, filled with sincerity and belief, began to cut through the fog of despair. You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "Thank you, Charles. I just... I just needed to hear that."
He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a gentle smile. "You're stronger than you know, Y/N. And whatever happens next, you're going to come out of this even stronger."
As the night grew darker, you found a glimmer of hope in Charles's words and his unwavering support. You knew the road ahead would be challenging, but you also knew you weren't alone. With friends like Charles by your side, and the rest of the grid, you could face whatever came next. And as you stood there, taking comfort in his presence, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could rise from this setback and prove everyone wrong.
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I want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me...
The atmosphere in the Mercedes factory was tense as Toto Wolff stepped up to the podium, his expression somber. You stood among your colleagues, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for the announcement. Deep down, you knew what was coming, but hearing it confirmed in front of the entire team was another blow altogether.
"Toto, are we ready to go live?" a technician whispered, adjusting the cameras to capture the moment.
Toto nodded, his gaze scanning the room. "Yes, let's begin."
The room fell silent as the live broadcast began. Toto cleared his throat, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. "Good afternoon, everyone. I come to you today with news that is difficult for all of us to hear."
You felt a lump form in your throat as you braced yourself for what was to come. Toto continued, his words echoing through the factory.
"After much consideration and evaluation, we have made the decision to part ways with one of our drivers," he announced, his tone measured. "It is never an easy decision to make, and it is one that we do not take lightly."
The room seemed to hold its breath as Toto paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You glanced around, noting the somber expressions on the faces of your colleagues. They were your teammates, your friends, and the thought of leaving them behind felt like a knife to the heart.
"And so, it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that Y/N will be leaving the team at the end of the season," Toto said, his voice faltering slightly. "We want to thank her for her dedication, her hard work, and her contributions to the team. She will always be a part of the Mercedes family, and we wish her all the best in her future endeavors."
The room erupted into a mix of stunned silence and whispered conversations. You stood there, trying to process the news, trying to swallow down the bitter taste of disappointment and betrayal. It was all you could do to keep from exploding in anger, from snarling and lashing out at the injustice of it all.
As Toto stepped down from the podium, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you met the sympathetic gaze of your teammate, Lewis. His eyes were filled with understanding and compassion, a silent acknowledgment of the pain you were feeling.
But as much as you wanted to scream, to demand answers, you knew that now was not the time. You had to swallow down your anger, to keep your composure in front of your colleagues. You had to be the bigger person, to leave with dignity and grace.
So you stood there, your jaw clenched, your fists tight at your sides, as the reality of the situation sank in. You would leave Mercedes behind, but you would carry the memories, the victories, and the lessons with you. And as you walked out of the factory for the last time, you vowed to channel your anger and disappointment into fuel for the next chapter of your racing career.
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you wouldnt last an hour in the asylum where they raised me..
The news spread like wildfire through the paddock: you had been signed by Red Bull Racing for the upcoming season. As you made your way through the bustling crowd, you could feel the weight of judgmental eyes boring into you. People whispered behind your back, calling you a traitor, questioning your loyalty to your former team.
But you held your head high, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. You had made your decision, and you weren't about to let the opinions of others sway you. After all, this was Formula 1—a cutthroat world where alliances shifted like the wind, and loyalty was a luxury few could afford.
As you approached the garage, you heard the murmurs grow louder. "Can you believe she signed with Red Bull? What a traitor."
You stopped in your tracks, turning to face the source of the comments. It was one of your former colleagues, his expression filled with disdain. "You're a traitor, Y/N. How could you do this to us?"
You met his gaze head-on, your eyes flashing with defiance. "It's a cutthroat game," you replied coolly. "You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me."
The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the ruthless world you had grown up in. You had fought tooth and nail to get to where you were, and you weren't about to apologize for seizing an opportunity to further your career.
Turning on your heel, you continued toward the Red Bull garage, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. You may have ruffled some feathers, but you had made the right choice for yourself. And as you entered the garage, surrounded by your new teammates and friends who had stood by your side through it all, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
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that I'm fearsome, and I'm wretched, and I'm wrong..
You sat in your motorhome, scrolling through Instagram after the chaotic Monza Grand Prix. The race had been eventful, to say the least, with a tense moment between you and Hulkenberg that had sparked controversy among fans and pundits alike.
As you scrolled through your feed, you couldn't escape the barrage of comments and messages directed at you. People were blaming you for the incident, calling you fearsome, wretched, and wrong. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on your shoulders, suffocating you with guilt and frustration.
But you refused to let the negativity consume you. Taking a deep breath, you opened the camera app on your phone and snapped a quick selfie. In the photo, you wore a determined expression, your eyes flashing with defiance.
You typed out a caption to accompany the photo, your fingers moving with purpose. "I'm fearsome, wretched, and I'm wrong," you wrote, the words a defiant declaration of self-acceptance and resilience.
With a sense of satisfaction, you hit the share button, knowing that your message would reach far and wide. It was a reminder to yourself—and to the world—that you were not defined by one moment, one mistake. You were a force to be reckoned with, flaws and all, and you weren't afraid to own it.
a/n : first ever platonic driver story! should I look into a romantic angle with anyone? any suggestions etc would be highly appreciated! happy reading and much love! as always, likes, reblogs, comments etc are always appreciated ❤️
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verstappensrealwife · 10 months ago
Text
"Because he likes you!" - Lando Norris x Reader
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[lando norris masterlist  / f1 masterlist]
ʚɞ in which... lando bullies the reader, "because he likes her,". ʚɞ fluff, angst, smut.  ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 2800 words ʚɞ warnings: slow burn, sex, tiny hint of carlos sainz jr x reader, sex. Reader “rewarding” Lando for winning!
-୨♡୧-
From the earliest memories of childhood, Lando Norris was a constant presence—a thorn in your side, a tormentor, a source of frustration. He revelled in teasing, in taunting, in making your life just a little bit harder. Your parents' dismissive explanation, "It's because he likes you," grated against your nerves, a feeble attempt to rationalize the torment. You did not like Lando Norris. Not at all. Not even the littlest bit. Not at all.
But hate was a strong word.
In your teenage years, Lando's torment took on a different form. The physical assaults of hair pulling and tripping you onto your face may have ceased, but the verbal jabs and the mocking laughter persisted, carving deeper wounds into your already fragile heart. It was as if he revelled in your discomfort, delighting in every opportunity to belittle and humiliate you, all under the guise of adolescent affection—a twisted notion that your parents foolishly labelled as "liking you."
Your family received the coveted invitation to his Formula One debut in Australia—an event that filled you with a conflicting mix of emotions. The pits pulsed with an electric energy, a cacophony of roaring engines and frenetic activity, cameras capturing every moment of the spectacle.
AUSTRALIA, 2019 With the guest pass draped around your neck, you navigated the bustling pits, your younger brother trailing behind you, wide-eyed with excitement. His adoration for Lando bordered on obsession, his youthful enthusiasm a stark contrast to the simmering resentment that burned within you.
Blehh!
You finally located the Orange garage, the vibrant hue catching your eye amidst the bustling chaos of the pits. With determination in your step, you made your way over, anticipation building with each stride. But as you reached out to tap the shoulder of the figure clad in orange- he was not the man you thought he was.
"Lando— Oh, hi, not Lando,"
The man before you exuded an undeniable charm, his smile lighting up his features and drawing you in despite yourself. There was an aura of confidence about him, a magnetic presence that commanded attention and left you momentarily breathless.
"Hello," he replied, his voice smooth and warm, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "I could be Lando for you," he flirted, his words tinged with playful intent.
"Would rather you not, he's not my type," you quipped.
But before you could dwell on the awkwardness of the moment, your younger brother, who had been tugging on your hand impatiently, finally spoke up, his excitement palpable. "HI CARLOS!"
Carlos.
"Hi, little man." He looked down- not even noticing the young boy when you approached. "Is he...?"
"Not mine! Brother." You cleared up.
He smiled softly before turning his attention back to entertaining the 5-year-old, leaving you to absorb Lando's sudden presence with a mixture of surprise and nonchalance.
"Didn't think my biggest hater would come," Lando remarked, his hand landing on your shoulder with a familiarity that made you bristle.
"I'm not here for you," you replied with a smile, gesturing towards Carlos who stood nearby, engrossed in conversation with your brother.
"Him? Why?" Lando's skepticism was palpable.
"Well, just look at him—those eyes, that accent, not to mention those muscles," you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to indulge in some light-hearted banter.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop you right there," Lando interjected, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "He's not that hot," he insisted, though his tone betrayed a hint of uncertainty.
You chuckled in response. "Oh, believe me, he is," you insisted, your gaze lingering on Carlos as he interacted with your brother. "I would," you added casually, shrugging off Lando's incredulity.
"You would?" Lando's brow furrowed with genuine curiosity. "What would you do?"
Ignoring his question, you watched as your brother returned, proudly displaying Carlos' autograph adorning his shirt. "Bye, Carlos," you called out, offering a warm smile and a nearly imperceptible lip bite, to which Carlos responded in kind. Then, without sparing Lando another glance, you turned and walked away, leaving his unanswered question hanging in the air.
"WHAT WOULD YOU DO?!" his voice echoed after you, but you were already lost in the crowd, your thoughts drifting back to the captivating Spaniard you had just left behind.
After the race, as Lando jogged over to his and your families, the tension from the race began to dissipate, replaced by a mix of relief and begrudging acknowledgment. You couldn't deny his skill on the track, but that didn't mean you had to like him.
When he approached, surrounded by congratulations and well-wishes, you offered a lukewarm response, the bare minimum required to acknowledge his achievement. "Well, I mean I'm glad you didn't die?" you quipped, injecting just enough sarcasm to deflect any further attention.
Lando nodded in your direction, his own smile tempered by your evident lack of enthusiasm. You responded with a tight-lipped smile of your own, a silent reminder that while you might share the same space, any camaraderie between you remained strictly superficial.
SILVERSTONE, 2019
As Lando finished the race at Silverstone, notching an 11th place, you couldn't resist a playful jab at his performance. "Maybe one day you can get points!" you teased, your tone dripping with faux enthusiasm.
Lando's comeback was quick, his words laced with sarcasm, "Maybe one day you can stop being such a virgin." You burst into laughter, thoroughly amused by his attempt at banter, though he seemed puzzled by your reaction. His confusion only deepened when he followed your gaze to Carlos, who was nearby.
"Oh my god! Him?" Lando exclaimed, catching on to your playful insinuation.
Lando's playful challenge caught you off guard, his smirk daring you to match his boldness. "So if I DNF, you'll sleep with me?!" he quipped, his tone teasing but tinged with a hint of curiosity.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, suppressing a laugh at his audacity. "Pfft! You do that plenty! Win first maybe?" you retorted, firing back with equal parts sass and amusement. The banter between you continued, each remark a playful exchange that danced on the line between rivalry and camaraderie, reminding you both that despite any differences, there was still room for light-hearted teasing and mutual respect.
But you still didn't like him.
MIAMI, 2024
What a mistake! Because here you were, in the Miami heat, watching Lando beat Max by 5 seconds.
Honestly, you had forgotten that deal long ago.
Lando had not. He had thought about it at every close call of winning, every podium, every late night...
You were scared for him, you didn't like him- you just didn't want to see him fail... You don't like him...
When he passed the finish line he was shouting into his radio, thanking alot of people before you heard your own name.
"...and Y/N, I hope you remember Silverstone 2019!"
People looked at you for answers but you had none.
Until he got out the car, sweaty, tired, hot– warm! Because of the heat...You didn't think he was hot.
That was when you had the answer.
Gosh... Long day ahead.
As he practically flew out of the car, his eagerness palpable, he landed amidst a bustling crowd, his body unexpectedly colliding with yours. The force of the impact nearly sent you stumbling, but before you could fully register what had happened, his arms encircled you in a tight embrace. In that moment, amidst the chaos of the surroundings, there was a brief interlude of serenity as you found solace in his warmth.
But the tranquillity was short-lived. His whispered words shattered the fragile bubble of peace, leaving you reeling in disbelief. "Gonna fuck you so good tonight," he murmured, the unexpectedness of his crude remark contrasting sharply with the tender embrace moments before.
A mixture of emotions surged within you, a turbulent storm of confusion, disgust, and an unsettling flicker of attraction. It was a disorienting mixture, leaving you struggling to make sense of the conflicting feelings swirling within.
When he finally released you, his touch lingered, his hands reluctant to part from your waist. His gaze held yours for a fleeting moment, a silent exchange of unspoken words passing between you, before he abruptly moved on to greet the next person in the crowd. Left standing there, you couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that had settled over you like a heavy fog.
Hours later, as you walked briskly towards the hotel, he trailed behind you, his presence an unsettling reminder of the encounter earlier. Unsure whether to match your pace or maintain a discreet distance, he hovered awkwardly, his uncertainty palpable in the air between you.
"This feels creepy, Lando," you remarked, casting a sidelong glance at him. "Just catch up with me; you look like a stalker."
"It's not creepy!" he protested, his cheeks flushing crimson with embarrassment. "We're heading to the same room... for the same... things."
You raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in your eyes. "Things," you echoed with a wry chuckle. "You can say sex, Lando."
His blush deepened, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sex... with you. Wow."
"I... I thought the crush I had on you since I was, like, born, was pretty obvious," he confessed, his hand gently resting on the small of your back, a tentative gesture of intimacy.
The admission hung heavy in the air, an unspoken confession of long-held desires and hidden emotions. Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words, struggling to process the revelation.
You halted in your tracks, the weight of his words sinking in. "Huh."
"Yeah..." he murmured, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. "Well, Repunzel was right—mothers do know best."
A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips as you resumed walking, his hand still lingering at your back. "It wasn't Repunzel; it was Mother Gothel," you corrected, a playful glint in your eyes. "And yeah—I'm a Repunzel fan, so what?"
His laughter echoed in the night air, a shared moment of levity amidst the weight of the conversation. "Shut up," he teased, gently nudging you as you walked side by side.
"Make me," you shot back, a playful challenge laced with a hint of something deeper—an unspoken invitation to explore the tangled emotions that lingered between you.
His laughter danced in the night air, a melody that seemed to weave around the unspoken tension between you. As his gaze met yours, there was a flicker of something more profound, a silent invitation lingering in the air.
A playful grin tugged at his lips as he leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Challenge accepted," he murmured, his voice low and husky with anticipation.
In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a timeless embrace. His fingers traced a delicate path along your jawline, igniting a trail of sparks that seemed to dance beneath your skin.
With a gentle tug, he drew you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tender caress. It was a delicate dance of longing and desire, a silent symphony of unspoken emotions finally finding their voice in the touch of his lips against yours.
As the kiss deepened, the world around you melted away, leaving only the sensation of his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer with each passing moment. In that fleeting instant, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming rush of love and longing that seemed to bind your souls together as one.
And as you finally pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, there was a silent understanding that lingered between you— upstairs. Now.
The kiss continued unabated, an unrelenting torrent of passion that seemed to consume every ounce of your being. With each step towards his room, his touch ignited a fire within you, sending waves of desire coursing through your veins.
In the confined space of the elevator, his hands roamed freely, exploring every curve and contour of your body with an insatiable hunger. The air crackled with electricity as his touch lingered on the curve of your ass, his fingers tracing patterns of longing and desire against your skin.
The journey to his room was a blur of messy kisses and frantic touches, the urgency of his desire palpable in every brush of his lips against yours. His cock strained against the confines of his jeans, a silent plea for release that echoed the longing pulsing through your veins.
As he fumbled with the keycard, his impatience was palpable, his focus solely on the tantalizing promise of what awaited behind closed doors. The moment the door swung open, you were both consumed by a primal need that eclipsed all rational thought.
With a forceful push, you tumbled onto the bed, the weight of his body pressing against yours as the door slammed shut behind you. In that moment, there was no room for hesitation or restraint, only the raw intensity of two souls drawn together in a frenzied embrace.
"Was that Lando?" George asked, with popcorn and a bottle of water in his hands, looking over at Alex who held the same.
"What the fuck-"
His movements were urgent, desperate, as he sought to satisfy the burning desire that raged within him. He had barely been able to put the condom on with how shaky his hands were.
With each thrust of his hips, there was a raw intensity that bordered on reckless abandon, the rhythm erratic and frenzied. The sound of skin against skin filled the air, punctuated by the rhythm of your ragged breaths and the soft, breathy moans that escaped his lips.
His forehead was damp with sweat, pressed against yours with an almost possessive fervor. The heat of his breath mingled with yours, creating a heady cocktail of desire that hung thick in the air between you.
Every touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. His hands roamed your body with a fevered urgency, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he traced every curve and contour with a hunger that bordered on obsession.
In that moment, there was no room for restraint or inhibition, only the primal need to be one with you, to lose himself entirely in the depths of your passion. And as he surrendered to the intoxicating frenzy of desire, he found himself consumed by a blissful oblivion, lost in the heady rush of ecstasy that washed over him like a tidal wave.
You were a mess, a writhing wreck, unable to keep still as he pushed his entire cock into you. In and out, hitting the perfect spot every time. Each thrust earning another lewd moan from you. He was so proud he could make you feel so so good. But he couldn't keep going any longer after you came on his cock, the feeling making him so overwhelmed he couldn't keep it together as he came.
Not able to keep himself up anymore, he fell ontop of you.
"Ouch!" You giggle as he rolled off, beside you. You lay there, breathless and trembling, your body still pulsating with the aftershocks of pleasure as he collapsed beside you. His weight pressed against your side, a comforting presence amidst the disarray of tangled sheets and scattered clothing.
"So, how was that..." he ventured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a hint of uncertainty.
You turned to him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you met his gaze. "Surprisingly good," you admitted, a playful glint in your eyes.
"Surprising?!" he exclaimed, his brows furrowing in mock offense. "What, do I not seem like I'd be good?"
You couldn't help but laugh at his incredulous expression, reaching out to playfully tousle his hair. "Oh, you were good," you assured him, your voice laced with affection. "More than good, actually."
His lips curved into a satisfied smile, a sense of pride flickering in his eyes. "Well, I aim to please," he quipped, his tone light and playful. "Does this mean you'll go on a real date with me?"
"Maybe win again and we'll see!" You joked, making him playfully smack your leg. "Joking.. I suppose I can," You shrug.
"You won't regret it, I promise," he vowed, his tone earnest and sincere.
<>
He led you to a charming café nestled in the heart of Miami a few days later, the bustling streets alive with the vibrant energy of the city. As you settled into a cozy corner booth, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the tantalizing scent of pastries, creating a welcoming ambiance that enveloped you in its warmth.
"So, you and Carlos..." he began, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned in closer.
Your brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden topic of conversation. "What about him?" you questioned, the curiosity evident in your voice. "If it's about 2019, we didn't actually do anything," you clarified with a casual shrug. "Did go on a few dates though, but he met another girl he liked," you added, your tone nonchalant and unaffected.
The playful smirk on his lips faltered slightly, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "You didn't even— You didn't even sleep with him," he whispered, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief that drew the attention of a few nearby patrons.
Your smile remained unwavering as you shook your head. "Nope," you confirmed.
"I guess its because 'I liked you' or whatever..."
Okay so maybe you did like Lando Norris... Just a little- maybe a lot.
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lilghostiequinni · 2 months ago
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L & A
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Main Masterlist Lestappen Masterlist
Pairing: Girlfriend!female reader x Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc
Warnings: Fluffy,
Summary: It was you and two. Each with their own nickname for you, one Liefde and the other Amour.
Requested: NO / yes
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The two men who pursued you were from two different countries.
You yourself were from a different country than either of them.
So when they gave you a nickname that only they call, it was the same word, but it was different because it was in two different languages.
Max calls you Liefde, Dutch for love.
Charles calls you Amour, French for love.
They became your world because of how much had happened in your life that left you out of contact with your family or they were dead.
You were okay with those circumstances because you left to get away from them in the first place.
When Max and Charles met you, you didn't know what love was.
They helped you learn what true proper love was.
Max and Charles, they never pushed you to do anything.
They learned things of you that even you didn't know about yourself.
You loved sunsets and just being with them.
With them you learned to love the beach and that it wasn't just a thing of imagination.
You learned their languages because you wanted to be able to talk to them.
To them you were Liefde and Amour.
To you, Max was Dragoste and Charles was Lyubov'.
There was nothing you would not do for them, and there was nothing that they wouldn't do for you.
You found purpose with them.
A purpose that you thought you would only find in your job.
When they purposed to you, they learned your language.
Max learned Romanian when he asked you to marry him, Charles learned Russian.
Well, they both learned both languages, but Max purposed in Romanian because that was the language you used for his nickname, and Charles's was Russian.
You found family with them, with the rest of the grid.
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A/N: First in the 100 Follower ship poll.
Tags: @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @ellen3101 @barcelonaloverf1life @charli123456789 @amz824 @taetae-armyyyyy @hadids-world
If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop
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charles-eclair16 · 2 years ago
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Justice for Joris: Charles Leclerc
Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
Genre: fluff🌥️ social media au 🌟
About: Joris being the Steve in Charles relationship aka where fans wants justice for Joris
lando.jpg
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Liked by peirregasly, carlossainz55, your_username and 69.7 k others
Tagged: your_username
lando.jpg: after party🥂 with the lovebirds
View all comments
Username06: they're so cute
Ferrarigirl: Charles looks so good
F1fan09: thank you for the pics lando
Charles.ynfan: lmao Joris💀
Your_username: @joris_trouche why are you making that face
↪️Charles_leclerc: he's fed up with us😂😂
↪️lando.jpg: honestly even I'm fed up with you guys
↪️Joris_trouche: honestly can you blame me @your_username the things I had walked into🫠
↪️Charles_leclerc: @joris_trouche as if I wasn't the one third wheeling you for years
↪️16fangirl: spill the tea👀👀
vettelfan: poor Joris😭
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safetycar-restart · 8 months ago
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HOME [CHARLES LECLERC X READER]
NOTE: This is an NSFW Charles Leclerc x reader writing with sub!Charles and dom!reader. If you are under 18 or if this is simply not your vibe, scroll past. Alternatively, if you like what you see here, feel free to stop by my blog for more :))
The Monaco race weekend has never been kind to Charles. He has always poured his heart and soul into that race, for both himself and for his family and fans, yet each and every time it has ended in disappointment.
Charles's fears and worries start to manifest the weekend before the Monaco GP already. He's standoffish and aloof, not accepting the attention he usually craves. He tries to resist falling into your arms, tries his best not to show how badly he wants to just curl up in a ball and wait for the weekend to be over.
No amount of comfort and gentle coaxing can get him to share what's on his mind, which is extremely strange. Normally, you serve as a sounding board for Charles. He adores laying with you at the end of each day and reflecting on things, telling you everything as though he were writing in a journal. But in the days leading up the Monaco GP, he never shares what's on his mind, just remains silent and looks away when you ask.
At first you give him his space, allowing him to process whatever it is that he's feeling. But when Thursday night rolls around and Charles has to be in the car the next day, then you make him talk to you.
You sit him down on the couch, taking his hands into yours and softly whisper how much you love and support him, how the rest of the team and the entire country might have expectations for him, but not you. You love him, his performance would never impact that.
Charles says nothing in response to this. But, he gently slides off the couch and kneels at your feet, his head rested on your thigh. He looks up at you with tears in his eyes and you rest a hand in his hair, allowing him to relax against you. He doesn't say a word, but you know he's letting himself feel all those emotions while he kneels for you, while he trusts you to keep him safe and protected.
He holds your hand walking into the paddock on friday, and he asks that you remain close. He doesn't say anything more but you understand. Everyone else around wants something from him, he wants the one person who just wants him to stay close.
When he gets pole on Saturday, he's ecstatic. He celebrates with the crowd and with the team and does his post qualifying interviews with a smile, but the moment eyes are off him, he's diving into your arms.
That night, he rests against your chest. You're just beginning to think he's fallen asleep when he speaks. He's scared. He's glad he got pole, of course, but he's scared. He knows that now even more pressure will be on him. He's not sure what to do.
You can't help him with the race or with his car, but you can kiss him on his head and give him a little squeeze, promising to stay with him no matter what happens.
When Charles wins the next day, he stands on the top step of the podium and looks down at you while he sings his anthem. He doesn't look at the crowd or his team, just you. This victory couldn't have happened without.
You expect him to go out partying that night, but he refuses. He goes home with you, kneels between your feet again but this time nuzzles higher and higher up your thigh until you get the message and him permission for what he wants. He opens your legs wider and tastes you, keeping his arms folded behind his back because he knows the rules. You know part of his begging for this was because he wanted to show you his love and appreciation, but also because he wanted to be on his knees, to be away from it all.
You drink champagne in bed and sneak a hand down his pants until he's whining and shaking against your shoulder and when he's done, letting him lick your hand clean before offering him more Champagne.
He's no longer afraid.
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Note
Hi! I loved the "through their eyes" fanfic with lando, and i was wondering if youd do it with literally any other driver? Maybe oscar, max or charles? If not thats fine x
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through their eyes .ೃ࿐ 
Summary: charles and y/n's relationship through other people's eyes.
lando's version
༉‧₊˚. cl x reader ‗ ❍
༉‧₊˚. fluff ‗ ❍
masterlist ☾☼
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arthur
arthur loved his brother. he really did. his elder brother was his favourite person in the world sometimes.
key word: sometimes.
he hated his brother when he called in the middle of the night. he hated his brother a little more when his reason for calling was because he was afraid his new little puppy had accidentally eaten chocolates.
charles himself never ate chocolates. arthur knew that. so, he couldn’t understand where charles had the idea that leo ate chocolates.
nevertheless, he let his brother drag him to an emergency vet at 4 am. charles was craddling leo, talking to him in a baby voice. arthur tried to take the whole thing seriously, he really did, but sometimes his brother forgot that other people needed sleep.
"they're taking so long. what if something happens to leo in that time? this is an emergency." charles mumbled.
arthur sighed and said, "you're next in line. just be patient."
charles nodded and went back to running his fingers through leo's fur.
when they finally called charles' name, he immediately stood up and speed walked towards the door. arthur sighed, and followed behind, dragging his feet because he really just wanted to be in his bed right now.
"hi, i'm doctor y/l/n. what brings you here?" the doctor was pretty, arthur had to admit.
though, the funny part was the way his brother had lost the part of his brain that made sentences as he stared at the doctor with wide eyes.
as much as arthur loved to see his brother like this, he refused to let him make a fool of himself, or of arthur.
"his dog apparently ate chocolates?" arthur said.
the vet let out a small chuckle, "you say that as if you're not sure,"
"well, i just came home and saw chocolate wrappers around him, which was weird, and immediately rushed him here." charles finally said, finding the part of his brain that made words.
"that is weird. do you have a lot of chocolate at home?" she asked as she began to check for any signs on leo.
"not really. i don't eat a lot of chocolate," charles said, alternating between the doctor and leo.
"any idea where the chocolate was since it was accessible to such a small dog?"
both leclercs stopped for a second and thought. charles was usually careful about not leaving things like that near leo's reach, well aware that leo was a hyperactive dog. and for the days that charles was away, arthur babysat leo. just like he had done that day.
oh.
arthur's brain finally began working, and he hit his brother's back.
"i had the chocolates!" arthur exclaimed.
charles turned to him, confused, "what?"
"i was babysitting leo today and i got some chocolates with me!"
"so you ate them in my living room and left the wrappers?" charles asked, a little bit of anger seeping through his voice.
oh.
this was what arthur had told himself today to not repeat to his brother. that he had been lazy and decided not to clean up like he knew he should've.
arthur opened his mouth to defend himself, to say anything that could pass off and not have his brother lecture him in the middle of the night. but, the doctor saved him. thank fuck.
"oh, i know what you mean. sometimes, i have too many chocolates, and then i fall asleep from a sugar crash and forget to pick up the wrappers or clean up," she said casually, as she continued checking leo.
charles turned back to her, and arthur watched as he slowly nodded and accepted the answer. arthur wasn't sure whether he wanted to be pissed at that or amazed at the power this woman already held.
she subtly winked at arthur, and he decided that he liked this woman.
she turned to charles and said, "alright, he's not vomitting, so that's a good sign. i'm gonna write my personal number for you just in case there's an emergency."
arthur smiled, though he tried to hide it. he knew what she was doing. he just hoped his brother caught on too.
charles took the piece of paper from her, and thanked her. she waved at the two brothers, as they turned to leave.
just as they settled in charles' car, he asked, "why did she give me her personal number?"
arthur facepalmed.
carlos
carlos had been seeing charles' new "friend" quite often in the paddock. charles hadn't introduced them yet, and carlos didn't know why. he still respected his teammate's wishes.
carlos liked to think that he was an observant man. he liked to think that he knew charles well enough to read his body language and know or at least, understand some part of what his teammate was feeling.
he had been observing charles every time y/n was close by. had been watching the way charles stood a little taller, spoke a little softer, laughed a little harder. watched the way charles almost touched her back while showing her around, and insisted on putting the headphones on her head himself, and the way charles waited and waited for her to do anything and everything.
it reminded him of lando and his girlfriend. though, those two were much more touchy than whatever this was. in comparison, charles seemed hesitant, yet eager.
it was during the fourth or fifth grand prix that carlos noticed that charles was properly touching her. not just a hand on her back to guide her way, but a hand on the waist, and her arm, and sometimes her fingers. not only that, she was touching him just as much. she played with his rings and his hair, and she stood just a tad closer than friends would.
carlos knew then that something had changed. something had definitely changed, and he knew it was for the better. he did not say anything, though. it wasn't his place.
towards the end of the season, charles finally introduced the woman to carlos.
"carlos, this is dr. y/n y/l/n. she's a vet," he paused, "and my girlfriend,"
carlos smiled instantly. shaking y/n's hand, he said, "hello, dr. y/n. i am carlos sainz jr, though i'm sure you're already aware of that."
she laughed, and carlos watched the way charles lit up, "yes, i do know who you are! i'm so glad to finally meet you!"
"me too! i was expecting charles to hide you from the world, especially me," carlos laughed.
"i apologise, that was based on my request," y/n looked slightly apologetic, but she also seemed sure in her response. it was her request to not be known, and she had the vibe that she would fight anyone who questioned it.
"well, then i'm glad to see charles is capable to following requests. my request for feeding him pancakes have always been ignored. hopefully, you can convince him,"
charles groaned, while y/n laughed, leaning into him slightly.
"i'll convince him, for sure. don't worry,"
the three of them chatted for a little while longer, giggling and making fun of charles. when she started yawning, and leaning into charles more, carlos bid his goodbyes to the couple.
he watched as charles tucked her into him, and watched they shared a soft kiss as they walked towards the exit. he watched as charles smiled radiantly, and he smiled as well.
what was it with carlos and watching his teammates finding their forever loves in front of him?
lewis
being a part of ferrari had been a dream. it was everyone's dream. but, lewis had some doubts. it had been a tough decision, definitely. now, though, with almost half of the season over, lewis felt more comfortable.
he had been waiting for charles to finish talking to the fia president to go over some strategy changes for the next few races. he wasn't eavesdropping, he was just listening attentively for any signs of their conversation being over. lewis desperately wanted to go home, but he wanted to finish this and then go home.
as soon as the conversation ended, lewis watched as charles and his girlfriend bid their goodbyes and walked to charles' driver room. lewis jogged to keep up. he was 40. he shouldn't have to jog to keep up now.
just as lewis reached the door, the two had already locked themselves in the room. in hindsight, lewis could have just yelled at them to wait up like a normal person would, but well, maybe he doesn't care about the strategies enough to do it.
he raised his hand to knock when the words from inside the room registered in his brain.
"-such a dick." y/n was saying. who was a dick? a lot of people were dicks, so it didn't exactly narrow down the list for lewis.
charles laughed. his voice was louder. maybe he was standing closer to the door.
"don't laugh! it was so annoying standing there. three different people, including me, mentioned to that fuckass president of yours that i'm a vet and i have a medical degree, and i've made a name for myself! but, no! he kept referring to me as your girlfriend!"
if lewis leaned against the wall to get slightly more comfortable, he definitely didn't. definitely.
"you say as if it's a bad thing he referred to you as my girlfriend! you are my girlfriend, after all." charles said.
"that's not the point, charles. the point is that i'm accomplished in my own ways. i'm y/n y/l/n first, and somebody's something second. him refusing to acknowledge that i'm a doctor, even if it was for animals, was disrespectful."
lewis hoped that charles got his shit together in this conversation.
"i understand that. but, you know that's how he is. we've all told you stories of how he is. he's not going to change." well, lewis agreed that he wasn't going to change, but it still wasn't the argument that charles thought it was.
"that's bullshit, no? he's the president of the fia, and he refuses to acknowledge women as someone other than a secondary person. i mean, how many others has he done this with? we've got professional golfer lily, and a super smart degree in engineering, and we've got kika as a model and studying in fashion design. they're all highly accomplished women."
"mon cheri, i agree with you. i promise i do. but, the president barely treats us drivers as humans. his viewership and his money literally depends on us, and he doesn't have the decency to treat us nicely,"
that was true, lewis had to agree.
it was quiet for a few moments, and then hushed whispers. lewis leaned in closer to the door as he tried to make out the words, but he just couldn't.
"oh, hey lewis!" one of the mechanics said, clapping a hand on his back.
lewis immediately straightened, and made polite conversations. he really wanted to get back to listening to the conversation happening inside.
just as he was done with the conversation, the door opened, and charles greeted them, and the conversation began again.
for fucks sake.
jules
jules was always watching from the sky. he was always watching over his godson. after all, that was the duty of a godfather, wasn't it? to protect the godson when no one else could. to be there for the godson when no one else could. jules had promised charles' father that he would always look after his son, and not even death can stop jules.
he'd watched charles find y/n. he'd watched the way she supported him and helped him grow as a person. he's watched as she made him the happiest man on earth. he'd watched her celebrate every win with him, and comforted him through every loss.
it was safe to say that jules felt the proudest of his godson the day he proposed to y/n. charles was smart to never let her go. charles was smart to make sure that she stayed with him and loved him just like he loved her and wanted to stay with her.
it was the day of charles and y/n's wedding.
jules was there in spirit. he always was.
y/n was a sweetheart. she had saved him a seat, along with charles' father in the front row for charles. jules wasn't sure if she had told charles, but he knew his godson would be so thankful for it.
jules was there in his suit and tie, looking crisp, even if no one could see him. he sat on the seat reserved for him as he waited for the groom to walk down the aisle first.
he saw every person who ever cared about charles sitting there. family, friends, team, ex drivers, current drivers. it made jules smile. so many people loved charles. so many loved y/n as well. to see them all together in one place to celebrate their love was heartwarming.
the music began, and charles walked down the aisle with his groomsmen: pierre, carlos, and bryan. they smile and laugh with him, shaking his shoulders as tear gather in charles' eyes.
jules watched as charles' gaze roam across the mass of people sitting there. he waves slightly at a few. jules watched as charles' gaze finally settled on him. he watched as charles' tears fell at the realisation of what his fiance had done for him.
he watched as charles covered his face, silent sobs escaping him. and then, the music began, and the bride walked down the aisle. everyone stood, including jules.
the bride was smiling wide, a little bounce in her steps as if she couldn't wait to marry his godson. her hand was tucked in her father's elbow, and the other hand held a bouquet of lilies.
jules watched as she stood on the little podium in front of charles, smiling brightly while his tears mixed with his grin. the love in charles' eyes was as beautiful as the aurora borealis in the night sky.
the ceremony began, and they went through the usual process. jules had been to few weddings, though he didn't remember most of them anymore.
when it was time for the vows, charles broke down again as he thanked his bride for saving a spot for his dad and his godfather, that he didn't think of doing something like that despite how much he wanted them to be there on their wedding there. he thanked her and promised to love her forever. he promised to cherish her and always be there for her, and he promised that he would always be at her beck and call, because she was the greatest gift he'd ever gotten.
y/n cried as well. it surprised jules a little bit. maybe he wasn't expecting her to cry as well. but, it was nice to see. to see that their love for each other was so overwhelming that smiles could not contain it.
she said her vows as well. she told him that she knew how much he missed his father and godfather and she wanted to do something small that would make him feel closer to them. she told him how much she loved him and how much she's going to continue loving him. she promised him to be the first one jumping for every win, and be the first hug he needs when he's disappointed. she promised that she would hold onto his hand as long as he held onto her, and she promised to laugh at every joke he said, regardless of how funny or not funny it was.
almost everyone was in tears. jules was too.
when the priest finally said, "you may kiss your bride," the couple did not waste another second. charles' hands cupped her face, as she held onto his wrists, and they kissed for the first time as a married couple.
jules smiled.
he knew pushing y/n towards charles was a good idea.
he knew he'd made the right decision, even from the sky.
・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・
i genuinely feel like my writing skills have massively deteriorated. im not even fishing. im just saying. i feel like it takes me one or two tries to get a particular driver right. i don't really pay as much attention to the other drivers as i do with lando, and also that i connect with lando a lot personality wise, so its easier for me to write him. anyways, i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)
taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry
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httpsserene · 4 months ago
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𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
˖♡ - ̗̀ ⇢ saw this tt about how these two toddlers shared their dad's notoriously rough bed head and this post when i opened tumblr last night and had to write smth for it! sorry, for the baby content 💀 i'll get back to writing y'alls requests now xxx
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the careful messiness of brunette curls has been charles’s signature hairstyle for ages. it suits him, and when paired with his dimples and green eyes—it’s no wonder why every italian and monegasque prays for his success on sundays. well, maybe bleeding rosso corsa and winning two championships driving the famed red car are the proper reasons.
if only they knew that the artful styling of his curls is nowhere to be found after he sleeps. when he wakes, his hair is in absolute disarray—the deep brown ringlets are clumped together as they stick straight upwards and yet they manage to point in every direction possible.
when you first moved in with charles, you convinced him to buy a satin pillowcase to combat the bed head. it didn’t help, and neither did the bonnets you tried to have him wear. no matter if the ties were knotted, buttoned, or even velcro-strapped tightly, the bonnet would end up by the foot of the bed and his hair was in it’s usual disordered state by the early morning hours.
so, your morning routine begins with taming charles’s severe case of bed head. he awakens slowly as your fingertips gently untangle the deep brown ringlets, moaning lowly and nudging his head into your hand like a large cat when your nails glide along his scalp. you carefully guide each curl back into their assigned positions, tutting disapprovingly at the one strand that never seems to stay in it’s place.
charles’s chest shakes with a chuckle at your slight irritation and he shifts to meet your eyes, tenderly directing your hands away from his now orderly hair to his lips, pressing kisses to your fingertips before pulling you forward to cuddle into his chest.
you didn’t expect to have to deal with more than one head of messy hair. unfortunately, it seems like your daughter inherited her father’s bed head.
your mornings now consist of charles climbing out of bed at the first crackle of noise through the baby monitor, rushing to scoop the 9-month-old from her nursery and have her join the two of you in bed. he crosses the doorway with your daughter cradled to his bare chest and leo yipping at his feet—she stares up at at him, a perfect reflection of the sea green pools of his eyes, the absence of a bonnet, and the chaotic sprawl of his brunette curls. you’ve never been bothered with the fact that she’s an exact replica of her father, as some tried to tease that your genes didn’t do more than deepen her complexion. however, you always joke back that it means that she’s been blessed to be as beautiful as charles is.
she coos and babbles up at her father and he dutifully responds in french as if he understands her baby gibberish. he sits in bed with her on his lap and she beams, her little arms and grabby hands reaching towards you. you smile back widely, stealing her from his lap and greeting your babygirl with a flurry of kisses pressed all over her cute little face. her giggles ring through the air as you pull backwards to watch her laugh and, there’s another trait she shares with her father; deep dimples decorate her chubby cheeks and you can’t help but press your thumb into them with adoration.
charles picks up his first baby, plopping the mini dachshund in bed, and leo bounds forward to press his own kisses to your daughter’s socked feet.
addressing charles’s wild bed head will have to wait as you settle her back in his lap. you rest your head on his shoulder, apologizing for interrupting the clearly important conversation the two were having. you start fixing the jumbled ringlets on her scalp with the softest touch of your digits and she nuzzles up into your hand the same way her father does. he continues from were he left off, asking your daughter if she thinks a one-stop strategy is too ambitious for the next race and she babbles back to him in reply.
charles nods in agreement, promising her that regardless of a one-stop or two-stop, he’ll bring back his third championship trophy for her.
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© httpsserene - do not repost. photos in header from pinterest.
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moonylovegoodsposts · 2 months ago
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okay soooo... what do you guys think about David!Clark Kent × Plus Size!Reader???? I mean, I'm a big girl and haven't seen any fic for Clark with thiccck reader... and imagine if she's Latina!
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ohimsummer · 1 year ago
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suguru likes to pinch.
he pinches your ass and thighs when he’s trying to be funny, nipping the skin with his fingertips and pretending he’s done nothing, though the mischievous smirk on his lips says otherwise. laughs when you let out a gasp at his troublemaking action, ducking away from your hands and fleeing the room when you aim to retaliate. he creeps up behind you sometimes, noting your suspicious squint, and rubs at your hips, kisses your neck and cheeks until your guard is down, and then leaves a sharp pinch on the bare skin of your thighs before dipping away, chuckling at your look of utter betrayal.
@anthoosies
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imthebadguyyy · 1 year ago
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Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince
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pairing : charles leclerc x reader
fandom : f1
synopsis : you're the only female driver on the f1 grid, and have a secret relationship with ferrari's golden boy.
warnings : smut, sexual innunedo, comments made about body weight.
a/n : multi part series!! basically will be a slow build up to how their relationship gets exposed lol I hope you enjoy 🫶🏼
the soft rustle of the white linen under your skin lulled you into sleep, eyes heavy with exhaustion and hours of activity, the drawn curtains protecting your eyes from the harsh rays of sunlight that just moments ago had you whining to Charles to draw them.
Speaking of, Charles was bustling around, oddly energetic, considering the strenuous activities the both of you had engaged in hours ago.
groaning softly, you stretched like a cat, sighing in contentment as your muscles awoke. charles approached you mid stretch, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your nose, your cheeks, your chin, and finally your lips.
the onslaught of affection made you giggle, and you tugged him down for a morning cuddle. charles laughed, giving in to you, wrapping his arms around you. the spanish sun streamed in, coating the both of you in a warm glow that had you snuggling closer to him, inhaling the deep scent of the sauvage perfume he had sprayed to the red and black ferrari team shirt he had changed into.
he sighed in contentment too, fingers gently stroking your hair, working through the tangles and knots, probably a result of his own hands laced through your hair, guiding you down when you had gone down on him.
"you slept well?" he enquired, fingers gently stroking your hair. "mmhmm" you mumbled, your own fingers dancing across his clad chest, slowly tracing up to his arms and drawing little flowers and shapes.
charles shivered at the feeling, heart fluttering in his chest as he took in the sight of you in his arms.
the ringing of your alarm broke the sweet silence and tranquility of the room, and you sighed, moving out of the warm embrace to turn off the alarm and drag your body out of bed.
"gotta get ready" you mumbled, still rubbing sleep from your eyes, yawning as you made your way to the bathroom.
"i hope I didn't tire you out before media day, cherie" charles teased, combing his hair in front of the mirror.
"oh shush" you mumbled through a mouth full of mint toothpaste.
"no but really cherie, i hope you slept well?" he asked, genuine concern laced in his voice.
you felt your heart melt, still getting used to how sweet and endearing your boyfriend was. "I promise im okay charles, besides, there is no way i would say no to a night like last night" you said, throwing him a smirk.
he laughed, taking out your McLaren t shirt and keeping it on the bed for you.
oh yeah, you happened to be the second driver for McLaren, and the only female driver on the grid.
being on opposing teams did little to stop you and charles from getting together, albeit in secret because you wanted to be discreet, and keep your relationship to yourself.
you looked at yourself at the mirror, rolling your eyes at the dark hickeys littered across your neck and collarbone, biting back a smile as you recalled the night before, charles hot lips pressing to your delicate skin, sucking harshly to create dark marks on your skin.
"charles marc herve perceval leclerc! look what you've done to me! i look like a fucking giraffe!" you whined and charles burst into giggles.
"desole, mon amour, i just lost control, you looked absolutely gorgeous, you still do" he said and you mentally awed at how sincere he was.
"thats alright, fenty beauty is the best match and wham! all gone" you said, concealing the marks to the best of your ability.
you walked back out, pulling on your jeans and your team t shirt, spraying yourself liberally in perfume. it was something you'd decide to start doing ever since becoming an f1 driver and having immensely long days.
just as you pulled on your sneakers, charles pulled you into his chest, earning a squeal of laughter from you.
"charles! what are you doing?" you laughed, letting your arms wrap around his torso, leaning your head back on his shoulder as he pressed the gentlest kiss to your neck.
"im just enjoying my girlfriend for as long as I can before I must hide my love for her from the world" he said dramatically, littering your neck with even more kisses, but each time he pressed more force to your neck, tongue darting out to lick each kiss, before gently letting his teeth sink into your neck.
you felt your heartbeat rise, and a second heartbeat arise between your legs, a warmth spreading through your body as a soft moan left your lips.
"charlie, not now.. we'll get late and my press officers will kill me if I'm late again" you whimpered, making absolutely no effort to pull away from him.
"just give me ten minutes amour, thats all i need" he whispered and you found yourself giving in, knowing that he was more than capable of making you cum in the limited time.
you let your head fall back as he sunk down to his knees, spinning you around and hoisting you up onto the table in your room.
his hands made their way to your jeans, unbuttoning them in a haste, letting them pool around your ankles.
your hands found home in his hair, tugging it harshly, not caring about the fact that he would not have time to fix it before you both had to rush.
charles looked up at you, green eyes flashing at you, before he gave you a little wink.
"such a cassanova" you moaned out, sarcastic even as charles tongue licked up your thighs, hand reaching for your underwear.
"behave cerise" he warned and you shut up, head leaning back in pleasure when his tongue finally made contact with your pussy.
you were definitely going to be late.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
charles jogged into the paddock, hair mussed up and eyes slightly dazed as he made his way to the ferrari garage. he had decided that you would go first, since he was less likely to get in trouble for being late.
he brushed his hands through his hair, although the poor attempt did little to tame the wild mess of hair.
"finally, where were you?" carlos asked, the spaniard throwing his teammate a charming smile.
"my alarm didn't go off and I slept in" charles said, the little white lie rolling off his tongue in all its practised perfection.
"mm sure" carlos replied. he had long suspected that charles had a secret girlfriend, but being the gentleman that he was, had decided better than to prod. if charles wanted him to know, he would tell him.
"who are we paired with for media?" he asked, putting on a cap to hopefully calm down his wild hair.
"alex, lewis, pierre, checo, valterri, y/n and you are together, im with max, fernando, lando, yuki, george and zhou" he said, pulling on a cap of his own.
charles hid a smile, happy at the prospect of getting to spend time with you.
"so you had sex" carlos said matter of factly as the two of them made their way to the press rooms, both waving at tifosi as they went. the cheers for carlos were extra loud since it was his home race.
"um i didn't say that" charles chuckled, waving as he saw a little girl with a teddy wearing a ferrari shirt.
"you don't have to mate, i can see a scratch on the back of your neck and your hair is a mess, you also look a little drunk but not from alcohol" carlos stated non-chalantly, making his way up the stairs.
"alright fine but I'm not saying who" charles said. he trusted carlos but he couldn't risk the paddock finding it because he knew it would be you facing the repercussions and not him. he had heard lots of stories from you on how you had to endure all sorts of stories and questions on how you had managed to sleep your way to f1, and how you had special connections with people, and he did not want the headlines to be accusing you of getting a seat by sleeping with him, when in reality you had met each other after you joined formula 1 in williams.
"thats okay you don't have to. but you look like you had a wild night" the spaniard laughed as charles blushed, his cheeks staining a soft cherry rouge.
"yes I did now please don't talk about my sex life in front of so many cameras" he begged, as they split up to go their different rooms.
making his way, he found you seated next to lewis, an empty spot right beside you, at the very end of the couch.
lewis smiled at charles, beckoning him to come and join the both of you.
when lewis turned to valterri who was on his left, charles threw you a subtle wink, which had you holding back an eye roll and biting your cheek to keep yourself from giggling.
alex turned to chat with the three of you for a while and valterri joined in too. you were interrupted by your press officers telling you they'd be staring the questions soon and you all settled in, and you prayed you'd get decent questions this time.
"so welcome everyone to the circuit de barcelona catalunya, for the spanish grand prix. we are joined by lewis hamilton, sergio perez, alex albon, pierre gasly, valterri bottas, charles leclerc and y/n l/n" and the questions started, with the first one going to lewis.
you found yourself zoning out a little, while the others answered questions about race conditions and alex's experience with a fan who tried to steal his M and M's.
you found yourself laughing at the story, unable to suppress giggles at alex's animated story telling.
"right, well the next question is for y/n" said another reporter, a young man with blonde hair in a sharp suit offered you a smile and you smiled back.
"y/n, there's been some talk about your weight and how it might affect your performance on the track, since you seemed to have put on a little after the winter break and testing. can you comment on that?" he said, completely calmly.
you were stunned.
you weren't quite sure if you had heard it correctly. around you, you could hear the reporters murmuring, and see the obvious anger and discomfort on everyone's faces around you. lewis gave you a look that said "should I speak up for you?" but you shook your head a little.
before you could answer, an angry voice filled the room.
"how dare you ask her a question like that? enough with these ridiculous questions about her weight! we're here to race, and her skills behind the wheel are what matter. if anyone doubts her abilities, they're in for a surprise on the track. it's time to move past these stereotypes and give credit where it's due – y/n is a fierce competitor and belongs here just as much as any of us. she has already done podiums and could do a win soon too with how quick she has been. all you do is ask stupid questions to a woman who has paved the way for others and I find it ridiculous, c'est très irrespectueux." charles spoke up, his usually calm demeanor ruffled.
you felt tears rise to your eyes, not expecting him to speak up, and you swore you'd never been more in love with charles.
distinctly, you heard lewis chime in, a deep frown in his forehead as he reprimanded the reporter for asking such a question.
"seriously? we're in a room full of talented racers, and you choose to ask a question like that? y/n is here because of her skill, determination, and hard work, not her weight. it's about time we focus on the racing, where she's more than capable of holding her own. let's leave these outdated notions behind and give credit where it's deserved." lewis said calmly, not showing how angry he was.
valterri and pierre spoke up as well, but you found your eyes drawn to charles, watching how his eyes, usually sparkly and bright held anger in them, a fire burning behind them. his fists were balled up, nostrils flaring as he tried to calm down.
charles knew that sylvia would be mad at him and his press officers would have to do some damage control but he hated how the reporters diminished the talent of the love of his life.
the both of you looked at each other, love and gratitude in yours and love and apologies in his.
as soon as it was over, you walked off, not wanting to talk to anyone else.
you decided to make your way over to your drivers room and almost successfully made it there, when you felt charles grab you as you walked past the ferrari hospitality.
he dragged you to his own room, eyes still filled with rage and hurt.
the moment it was the two of you inside the room, charles turned to you, one hand gently stroking your cheek while the other rested on your wait, and then he started talking, "mon coeur, i just want to apologise to you for having to deal with these insensitive questions. it's frustrating to see you continually face these when we should all be celebrating your talent and achievements. you're an incredible driver and an even better person, and i love you so much. im so proud to stand beside you and be by your side and-"
you cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down by the neck to meet your lips. he pulled you impossibly closer to him, hands grippin you so tight you knew it would leave a soft mark.
his tongue pushed against yours urgently, but you broke apart, panting heavily, to kiss his cheek and whisper a soft "thank you"
charles guided the both of you to the door to make sure it was locked, before lifting you up to rest you against the wall.
before you knew it his lips were on yours again, pressing against them, hot and needy, and you kissed him back with an urgency, a need to thank him for sticking up for you.
"do you think I'm... im too big?" you murmured against his lips.
your words had him stopping, forehead resting against yours as he sighed.
"mon amour, ma chérie, ma douce fille, tu es parfaite telle que tu es. j'adore tout en toi et personnellement, je trouve ton corps parfait. je veux que tu saches que tu es absolument incroyable et parfaite à tous égards, et je t'aimerai toujours." my love, my darling, my sweet girl, you are perfect as you are. I adore everything about you and personally I find your body to be perfect. I want you to know you are absolutely amazing and perfect in every way and I will always love you.
your eyes filled with tears as his fingers gently caressed your tummy, before he started peppering kisses all over you.
"i love you charles" you whispered, voice breaking a little and he noticed, pressing a kiss to your nose.
"i love you too my love" he whispered back.
"let me show you how perfect you are ma jolie, ma tournesol" he whispered, carrying you back to his bed to lay you down with such gentility, as if you were going to smash into a thousand pieces if he was rough with you.
"please let me show you how perfect you are, comment puis-je te résister quand je te vois, à quel point tu es magnifique et comment tu es une déesse absolue sur terre. laisse-moi t'aimer et te montrer ma gratitude pour toi, mon amour." how I cannot resist you when I see you, how gorgeous you are and how you are an absolute goddess on earth. let me love you, and show you my appreciation for you my love he whispered and you gasped softly.
how you loved it when he sweet talked you in french.
you couldn't wait for the dirty talk to start.
"so fucking beautiful" he groans, admiring your body, as he drags your shirt off your body, followed by the jeans, tracing each and every one of your curves, your heart warming up at his tender touch as his gaze stares fervently into yours, with nothing but love and admiration in his eyes for you
his lips instantly reconnect with yours, finding home on your lips. his kiss is demanding, and just the right amount of rough, and when he slaps your ass softly, you moan giving his tongue an opening, allowing him to slowly slide into your mouth, tongue exploring every crevice.
"be quiet for me cherie, can't have everyone hearing my beautiful girl's sweet moans hmm?" he whispered against your ears, biting along the lobe.
his hand grabs a hold of your chin, holding you in place as your legs start to wrap around his waist, your fingers digging into his skin.
"charles" you moan breathlessly between his lips, and he begins to unclasp your bra, his fingers intertwining with both straps as pulls it down your arms, failing to break the kiss.
he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, licking around the bud before sucking on it. the simple motion was enough to have you moaning and whining against him, as his fingers teased the other nipple, flicking it repeatedly, and running the rough pad of his thumb over the pert nipple.
his name left your lips like a chant as your hips rutted against him of their own accord.
his right hand moving to play with your right nipple, twisting it, flicking it, pinching it before soothing it with a gentle motion of his thumb. he switched, mouthing and sucking your other nipple, instead, while his hand moved to your left, pulling harshly as he rolled the sensitive bud in between his fingers. you tried your best to stifle your moans, taking slight respite in the fact that the ferrari drivers rooms were a little soundproofed, your panties no longer damp but practically wet, threatening to drip down your legs as you clenched again, the arousal becoming painful. after finishing with your chest, charles kissed downwards, to your stomach, licking his way down to your hips. his green eyes met your own, as he moved his hand in between your thighs, feeling how wet you were, even when you weren't even fully exposed to him. he gently pushed your panties against your cunt, watching your pussy lips swallow the material and soak it with your arousal, the friction from the material making you gasp.
before you could grind against it, he pulled it off of you, letting it drop to the floor. he moved lower, arms trailing down your thoughts almost kneeling in front of you, "you look so good baby, all spread out for me. i love everything about your body mon amour.
i love these marks, i love your scars, i love every freckle and dot on your body," he murmured, fingers gently tracing the stretch marks on your tummy and thighs.
"do you want my tongue in your pretty pussy hmm?" he asked, as you nodded fervently. "words, cerise" he said, fingers gently tracing circles on your clit from outside your panties. "yes, yes I do please!" you whined, grinding against his finger.
and with that he moved in between your thighs.
with both hands, he pulled your knees even more apart, so he could fully face your quivering pussy watching as you pink hole repeatedly clenched and un clenched around nothing, shimmering with your own juices.
licking his lips, he leaned forward, feeling a carnal desire burst open within him. he kissed both your thighs, before looking up at you again. then he moved forward, pushing his pointer finger into you, swearing when your walls enveloped him. he pushed in till his knuckles, pumping up and down as your moans and groans of pleasure rang out above him, before shoving in a second finger, and then a third, the stretch making you throw your head back, you hair fanning out.
"so beautiful mon ange, all spread out like this. i can see all of you and you're the most beautiful person ive ever laid my eyes on" he groaned and you found yourself moaning event louder, till he brought one hand up to let you suck his fingers.
then he licked broad stripe up your pussy, still fingering you, before running his tongue up your slit repeatedly. using two fingers he spread you open, latching onto your clit, as you let out a scream of pleasure above him, arching your back even further. charles let out a choked groan at how good you tasted, almost as sweet and sour as a cherry, his favourite nickname for you, as he flicked the sensitive bud back and forth before sucking hard on it. his tongue repeatedly rolled your clit, before he took it into his mouth, lips enclosing around the bud. while his fingers continued thrusting into you, the band in your stomach threatening to snap, when his nose pressed against your clit, and when it nudged the sensitive button repeatedly, and he continued sucking your clit till you had tears streaming down your face from the ache of the pleasure.
his fingers and tongue worked in tandem, as you tightened above him, your thighs wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you let out a strangled moan of "oh god, oh my god, charles!", and before you knew it you had cum on his tongue, his tongue and fingers working you through your orgasm, licking up every last drop as you continued to quiver above him, body rocking out your orgasm.
you expected him to pull away, but he stayed, fingers still in you, looking up at you, and the sight of his nose and mouth, shimmering with your juices, was enough to nearly make you cum again, but as you tried to pull him up, he pushed your body back down, looking at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "no no no, mon coeur. i need to show you how much i love you and one orgasm won't do that" he said,and with that, he moved back down between your thighs, licking your pussy languidly a few times, before shoving his tongue back into you, this time, pulling your hips closer so you were nearly dangling off the edge of the bed, almost balancing on his face, your hands reaching down to pull his dark locks, legs wrapping around him, pulling him closer as he went back to sucking your clit again, the lewd sounds echoing in the room, as desperate moans of "charles! charles! oh my god, fuck, fuck, amour" left your lips, like a prayer, your head thrown back and chest heaving, nipples hardened against the cold air in the room. as if on cue, charles let his hand reach up to gently fiddle with your nipples, as your hips began to rut on his face, his nose deliciously nudging your clit again, and his fingers soon replaced it, flicking your clit with his finger and licking around it, till you were cumming again, with broken screams of his name leaving your lips.
he stood up, climbing up onto the bed to kiss you, and you tasted yourself on his lips.
"my beautiful girl. the most beautiful girl" he mumbled repeatedly against your lips.
climbing over you, he caressed your cheek softly, before pulling you in for a gentle kiss, which quickly became teeth and tongue, as he brought his cock closer to your entrance. he swiped it through your folds, running the tip over your clit continuously till you felt like you were gonna pass out from the combination of feelings you were experiencing. "please mon ange, please just fuck me, please!" you finally cried out, gasping when he pushed himself into you, finally filling you with what you always craved.
"my gorgeous girl has the most gorgeous pussy ever, so soft and pink" he groaned, slotting himself into you, thrusting his hips till he was in so deep it was as though he belonged there. as though he belonged inside you, as if he belonged with you forever.
he continued to snap his hips against yours, burying himself in you, mouth leaning down to suck your nipples again.
"m-more" you managed to stutter out. "can you handle more, mon bebe?" he asked, his gentility and sweetness peeking through. "yes, fuck yes, i can" you moaned, too drunk on the feeling of cock sliding in and out of your pussy. "d'accord cherie" he murmured.
without stopping the movement of his hips, he flipped you over onto your front, as you landed ungracefully on your front. "hands and knees" he commanded, still fucking you
the new angle was making stars burst forth in your vision.quivering, you moved onto your shaky knees and hands, as he gripped your waist from behind, pulling you back to meet his cock.
your incoherent moans of his name were fuel to his fire, and he reached around you to rub your clit roughly, collecting your arousal on his fingers, before stuffing his fingers in your mouth, prompting you to suck on them. you swirled your tongue around them, tasting yourself on his fingers again, as he moved your fingers in deeper, almost making you choke.
the feeling of him nearly fucking you in two was clouding your senses, the band in your tummy ready to snap again. behind you, increased the pace of his thrusts, using his other hand to pinch and rub your clit again, a high pitched groan leaving his lips as his orgasm rode up on him, but, being the gentleman that he was, he wanted you to cum first.
the harsh rubbing of his fingers on your clit and his cock ramming into your pussy, the squelch of sounds and your moans and groans filled the room, sweat dripping down your bodies and the smell of sex penetrating your nose.
when charles suddenly picked up the paxe and wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing just enough to restrict your airflow ever so slightly, you let out a high pitched moan, the feeling sending you into euphoria as your pussy gushed around him, charles hissed when you clenched on his sensitive cock, finally spurting his cum into you as well.
panting, you pulled apart, both of you collapsing on his bed.
"fuck that was-"
"insanely hot, insanely good, insanely perfect" you said, curling up into his side.
"thank you for supporting me my love" you whispered again, surprised at the tears filling your eyes.
"aw mon cherie, don't cry" he whispered, hands gently pushing your hair out of your face.
"i won't" you sniffled softly, letting out a watery laugh at the concern in his face.
"i love you so much" you mumbled, letting his soft humming lull you to sleep, not giving a damn about the fact that literally any moment McLaren would have a breakdown when they saw their star talent was missing.
but all you cared about in that moment was getting some time with the man you loved.
charles sighed in contentment as he looked down at you, dozing off in his arms.
in his daze he missed the footsteps making their way to the door.
neither of you missed the sharp rap of knocked against the door, making you jump out of your skin as carlos' voice came from the other end.
"cabron, we are needed for a meeting. can you open your door so i can get my extra shoes? i left them there by accident" he said and you froze.
"don't say a word" charles mumbled to you, gently getting up.
god, you were so fucked.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n - will definitely make this a multi part series!! any comments feedback reblogs idea etc are always appreciated!! much love always ���
TAGS -
f1 : @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @superlegend216 @theonly1outof-a-billion
charles leclerc : @dark-night-sky-99
everything : @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird
to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷
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pookie-mulder · 1 year ago
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if you’ve been victimized by Chris Carter’s obsession with the name William, you may be entitled to a venn diagram
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formulafics · 1 year ago
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Hi, love your fics!! ❤️❤️ Could I request a charles x reader? One where she's also a driver (your choice which team) and she's from Poland and their flags just look like 🇵🇱🇲🇨 and it's like a "funny" coincidence to the fans or something, maybe it's a charles and y/n thing to always point out how similar their flags are
★ IF YOU CANT BEAT ‘EM, JOIN ‘EM | CL16
Scenario: time and time again, your flag gets mixed up with your boyfriends’, and vice versa. this time around, something a little more interesting than just a mixed up flag happens.
Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (mclaren driver)
A/N: i’m so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! thank you so much for your patience 🫶🏻 this is actually such a cute idea, i love it. i hope you enjoy the fic! <3 ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST CHARLES FIC ‼️WHO CHEERED?
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charles_leclerc
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liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, f1, yn_ln, and 1,360,155 others
charles_leclerc good to be back on the podium…even with the flag mishap. i wouldn’t want it to be any flag but @/yn_ln’s.
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yn_ln i could say the same for your flag. congrats on p2 baby you deserve it! 🥰
scuderiaferrari if you can’t beat them join them. right @/yn_ln ?
⤷ yn_ln 👀
⤷ rizzciardo hey so what does this mean lol
landonorris get a room
⤷ yn_ln bet 🤭
leclercnorrisrussel WE CAN BE WORLD CHAMPION I SAID
lovelyleclerc yk its a good day when yn and charles are on the podium together
lovelyleclerc WAIT A MINUTE WTF DO YOU MEAN FERRARI
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yn_leclerc
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussel63, and 864,562 others
yn_leclerc (accidentally) took his flag, joined his team, and now taking his name. 🤭❤️
thanks lando for taking the pictures 🫶🏻
view all 9,652 comments
charles_leclerc through sickness, health, and mixed flags 😂
⤷ yn_leclerc forever and always baby ❤️
landonorris thank god i don’t have to spend another year with you
⤷ yn_leclerc just bc we aren’t gonna be teammates doesn’t mean we aren’t friends 🤨 you’re not getting rid of me that easily mister. also i gave you photo credits i expect you to be nicer
pierregasly congratulations ❤️ love you guys
maxverstappen1 💙
georgerussel63 congrats guys 💙
carmenmundt so happy for you both! congratulations, mr and mrs. leclerc! ❤️
paularon_ @/arthur_leclerc can be the flower child at the wedding!
lovelyleclerc SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ARE YOU SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW
ferraricharles BABE WAKE UP YN AND CHARLES ARE ENGAGED
stardustf1 serving parents more than ever with this one
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yn_leclerc and scuderiaferrari
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liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, f1, paularon_, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 876,542 others
yn_leclerc a wise man once said “if you can’t beat them, join them” and join them i did. 🤭 can’t wait to see what the 2024 season brings!
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charles_leclerc i love you ❤️ can’t wait
⤷ yn_leclerc i love you more
oscarpiastri thank you for the seat
⤷ yn_leclerc your welcome pls take care of lando
⤷ thumbsuplando CRYING I ALREADY MISS YN AND LANDO SO BADLY
scuderiaferrari happy to have you! 🥰
lovelyleclerc everytime i get the notif that you post, i go insane. i just wanted you to know that!
norrisnation i’m gonna miss you in mclaren but im so happy for you 😭🧡
ynsnumberone MOTHER
⤷ rizzciardo it truly isn’t a yn post if there isn’t someone in the comments calling her mother
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thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated! — dae <3
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asmeninas · 7 days ago
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GILMORE GIRLS - 6x13 - Friday Night's Alright for Fighting
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