#formula 2 fanfiction

[natailiatulls07]

Arthur Leclerc -

smau

Party girl Pt.2

-

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Red Carpet Rivalry

Word count: 459

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: When Y/n attends the Gladiator 2 premiere with her boyfriend Charles Leclerc, his jealousy is put to the test

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The red carpet for Gladiator 2 was dazzling, and as you stepped out of the car with Charles, photographers couldn’t take their eyes off you. You wore a fitted black dress that hugged every curve, the kind of dress that radiated confidence and allure. Charles looked dashing in his tailored suit, but his attention wasn’t just on the glitz and glamour. He was clearly tense, knowing exactly who you were hoping to see tonight.

As you made your way down the carpet, Charles’s arm possessively wrapped around your waist, he leaned close, his lips brushing your ear. “Just so you know,” he whispered, “Pedro Pascal isn’t as charming as everyone thinks.”

You shot him a playful smirk. “Oh, I’m sure,” you replied, knowing full well that Charles’s jealousy had been brewing ever since he found out Pedro Pascal was your celebrity crush. “But it’s Pedro. I mean…can you blame me?”

Charles sighed, visibly unimpressed, but he couldn’t hide the glint of jealousy in his eyes. Just as he was about to respond, you spotted Pedro at the far end of the carpet, posing for photos with that signature charming grin. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a brief moment, you were absolutely starstruck.

Charles noticed immediately, his hand tightening slightly around your waist. “You know, if he even tries to talk to you…” he started, his voice both teasing and laced with a hint of genuine protectiveness.

You couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that caught Pedro’s attention. He glanced over, and to your surprise, he shot you a warm smile, clearly intrigued. The butterflies in your stomach went wild, but you kept your composure, leaning a little closer to Charles as if to remind him he was still your date.

Still, Charles wasn’t fooled. “I see how he looked at you,” he muttered, only half-joking.

“Relax,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

But as Pedro approached, Charles’s jealousy only grew. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a possessive embrace just as Pedro reached your side. The actor smiled, eyes flicking from you to Charles. “Charles Leclerc,” Pedro greeted warmly, shaking his hand before turning to you. “And you must be his stunning date.”

The compliment made you blush, and for a split second, you swore you saw a hint of challenge in Pedro’s gaze. But before you could respond, Charles was already pulling you closer. “She is,” he said firmly, flashing a smile that was just a little too tight.

You stifled a laugh, feeling a surge of affection for your jealous boyfriend. Charles might be competitive on the track, but seeing him this possessive over you? That was a whole new level of adorable.

[scuderiahalf]

middle man — arthur leclerc

pairing. arthur leclerc x ferrari driver!fem!reader

summary. you never set out to date your teammate's brother. in fact, it took arthur months just to convince you to go on a single date, but charles' opinion of you hit an all time low after he became aware of your relationship and nothing you did seemed to help mend your previously strong partnership. when charles takes it a step too far, you decide that you’ve had enough of it. 6.7k, 18+

warnings. injury, descriptions of injury, smut, dom/sub dynamic (sub!reader), fingering (fem receiving), impact play, penetrative sex, mirror sex

masterlist.

. . .

The slightest of contact was all it took. That was all it ever took. One second, you were making the overtake for P2, and the next, you were in the wall.

There was barely time to brace. Barely any time to hit the brakes. Reaction time was trained, drilled, conditioned into you until it became second nature. Thank god it was, otherwise, you might not have walked away from this one.

Your ears were ringing when you opened you eyes after impact. Your vision was swimming but you were conscious. You heard the cadence of the question in your ear more than you could actually understand the words being said.

Are you okay? Y/N, are you okay?

You weren't really sure if you were but your mind went to those that were watching the race, your fans, your team, your family, your friends. Arthur. They needed to hear you say that you were okay. The gritty details could come later.

"I'm good. We're good. That was a rough one, huh?"

You're sure that the pain was still evident in your voice. It was unavoidable after however many Gs of force you just withstood in that crash. You turned the engine off, took a moment to center yourself.

You had crashed. You were a Formula One driver. It was the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, the fourth race of your second season with Ferrari after your Haas contract expired two years ago.

Your boyfriend's name was Arthur Leclerc. Privately (and jokingly), you called him Artie because it made him cringe and you thought it was funny. He was your teammate's little brother.

He was the first person to make it to the circuit medical center after you had been loaded into the medical car. He was shaking as he hugged you, not from fear but from restraint, not wanting to hurt you by squeezing you as tightly as he wanted to.

"You are okay? Tell me you are okay."

"I'm fine, baby."

"I could strangle Max Verstappen sometimes. 'Leave the space' must only apply to others."

"Arthur, it's okay. It's just part of the sport."

He looked you over for a moment more before catching your mouth in a searing kiss. It spoke volumes, and you understood exactly what he meant by it.

I deeply respect your love of the sport but I would burn the FIA and the whole world to the ground if it meant keeping you safe.

"I love you," he said when he pulled back.

"Je t'aime," you returned.

That exchange of I love you's in your and Arthur's respective native languages of English and French had been a staple of your relationship since very early on. Your first "I love you" had been in each other's mother tongue. It had stuck ever since.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

“Yes,” you insisted, “A little dizzy, but okay.”

“Dizzy? You did not say you were dizzy.” That was the doctor that had checked you for any signs of a concussion.

You turned to face her. “Yes, but I had—“

You lost your balance as you turned. Your typical coordination escaped you and Arthur had to catch you to stop you from tipping sideways.

The doctor pulled out a phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. You’re going to the hospital.”

“I’m fine—“

“Mon coeur, please sit down,” Arthur urged.

Your calm but obviously worried boyfriend refused to leave your side even when it meant leaving for the hospital before the end of the race. You tried to convince him to stay for his brother but he wasn’t having it.

In the hospital room after you had completed all the precautionary brain scans, Arthur checked his phone.

"Maman is asking about you," he said. "Lorenzo, too."

You both took note of the lack of another of his family member’s text message, but you had grown all too used to it. It was easier not to comment on it.

"Tell them I'm fine."

"I will tell them we are waiting on your test results."

"Don’t worry them. I’m fine, Arthur.”

"We will know that once they have gotten their results."

Arthur had a very convincing poker face but this needless argument showed how concerned he truly was. He kept worrying his bottom lip between his teeth whenever he thought you weren’t looking.

You tugged on your intertwined hands to pull him closer. “Hey. I’ll be fine. It’s probably just a concussion.”

“You cannot know.”

“Then, call it positive thinking.”

Before anything more could be said, the doctor returned with the results of your tests.

You were okay, only a concussion as you had thought. You had a fair amount of bruising and a bit of whiplash to commemorate one of the worst crashes of your career but other than that, you seemed fine.

They still wanted to keep you overnight for observation but you should recover in a timely fashion.

When the doctor left, you only had time to shoot Arthur an “I told you so” look before his phone started ringing. The caller ID showed his second eldest brother’s name.

He answered in French, a language you knew almost fluently after living in Monaco since your rookie season. You had really buckled down to learn the language after beginning to date Arthur.

“Hello? ... I am at the hospital with Y/N. … I know but congratulations on third. Sorry I missed the celebrations.”

You couldn’t hear what Charles was saying, only your boyfriend’s responses. It was now over two hours since the end of the race. Charles must have only just gotten time to call Arthur.

“I know I am, but Y/N was dizzy and the doctor was concerned and I couldn’t just leave her. … She is part of Ferrari, too. I have a duty to both her and the team. … I was not needed at the garage. … And I said I’m sorry I missed your podium but I wasn’t going to leave her alone. What if something happened?”

You sunk back into your hospital bed. They were fighting again. Because of you.

You and Charles had been rookies together back in 2018. You had started your F1 career at Williams before moving through Haas to where you were now, your second year at Ferrari.

You were a handful of years younger than Charles and he had always treated you like a little sister. When you got the Ferrari contract, Charles was over the moon. You remember him going on a half hour tangent about how much fun it would be having you as a teammate, how excited he was for the next two years.

Charles adored you. At least, he used to, before you and Arthur told him you had started seeing each other.

Since then, Ferrari has been a minefield.

Charles was distant and cold. He stopped sending TikToks and stopped laughing at your memes. He unfollowed you on Instagram for about a week before the Ferrari PR team made him follow you again.

The PR department was working well past overtime thanks to you and Charles. You had learned not to try and approach him even when there were cameras around because he would continue to ignore you and it would further fuel the drama mill.

You missed your friend. You missed the fun you two had last year as teammates.

Now, you were with Arthur. And you loved him. And he made you so happy. But you missed being able to talk to Charles without him looking at you like you were the gum on the bottom of his shoe.

Arthur’s voice had gotten sharper the longer he spoke to Charles. “Not that you bothered to ask but Y/N is fine, by the way. We had to go to the hospital to scan her brain and make sure but she would be. Not like you’d care.”

Arthur hung up and tossed his phone onto a table where he couldn’t reach it. You reached out for his hand and he took it, kissing your knuckles and sighing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

“Do not apologize. This is not your fault.”

“It feels like it is.”

“It is not. It is Charles being impossible for no reason. Before we were dating, he—“

He adored you. He called you mon ange. He praised your driving any time he could. He invited you to dinners with his family, which was how you got to know Arthur outside of racing.

Now, Charles couldn’t stand the sight of you. It hurt, you weren’t going to lie. Charles was your teammate and friend, but more importantly, he was Arthur’s brother.

You didn’t feel it was your place to try and close the gap gouged between you and Charles, not when he was Arthur’s family. You didn’t want to complicate things further, didn’t want to try and repair your friendship before the bond between brothers was mended.

“Maybe…”

You lacked the confidence to continue your thought. You didn’t want to suggest what you were about to, even if it could potentially fix everything.

You were selfish when it came to Arthur. You didn’t like sharing him and you especially didn’t want to let him go.

“What?” Arthur asked.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

“What? No? No. Why? No. Why would you want to—? Have I done something wrong? Why would you say that?”

You were quick to reassure him. “No, no, no, baby, it’s not that. I was just thinking that it might be a good idea to take a bit of time and come back to this in the off season. When Charles can separate me as your girlfriend from me as his teammate.”

“No,” he insisted. “No. I do not want him to ruin this any more than he already has. I do not want to take a break.”

“Okay. That’s okay. It was just a suggestion.” One that you were thankful Arthur objected to so vehemently.

“It is a dumb suggestion. I do not want a break. I will never want a break from you.”

“Okay.”

You let him lean in and kiss you. It seemed that Arthur was selfish with you, as well.

.

You were no stranger to Charles Leclerc’s yacht. You had spent many nights attending parties hosted by your friend on his impressive vessel and even more days lounging around or exploring islands along the Monaco coast.

But ever since Charles found out about you and Arthur, you hadn’t been invited back. Until the weekend between races, a week after your crash.

And you hadn’t exactly been invited, it was more that Charles had been told by his mother that you would be spending the day with the family and there was no getting out of it. Though, as the day stretched on and tensions grew higher, you were really wishing that you were the one who could have gotten out of going.

Your concussion wasn’t as severe as originally feared. Your ribs were still tender and the skin of your torso bruised but you were set to race at Miami next week as long as your checkup in a few days went well.

Arthur sat down beside you on the large daybed you had taken to reading on. It was shaded and secluded enough to be comfortable but not so far from the main seating area that you couldn’t easily rejoin the larger group. It was where you had usually set up camp whenever aboard Charles’ yacht.

Your boyfriend handed you the fizzy, non-alcoholic beverage you had requested. He accepted a kiss as gratuity.

“What are you reading?”

“One of those spicy fantasy novels you make fun of me for.”

“Oh, the porn books.”

“They’re not porn books!”

Arthur just laughed because he liked teasing you. He laid his head in your lap. You, of course, let him because you were not actually upset.

You smoothed the hair off his forehead lovingly.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not hurting?”

“No. I’ve been doing my stretches and using bruise cream. I’ll be right as rain next weekend.”

Arthur seemed pleased with that answer. “Will you read to me?”

You regarded the content on the page you were open to. “I’m not exactly at a publicly appropriate chapter.”

“Am I not a better option than ink on paper?”

“You are not always readily available.”

“You are far more busy than me. You are always away from me.”

“Exactly. I need something to do with all my free time in my hotel room. All alone. Just me. And my hands all over… my latest smutty book.”

“You kill me, woman,” Arthur groaned, sitting up to kiss you.

You let out a peel of laughter when Arthur pushed you onto your back. You two were not in the habit of making your close friends and family uncomfortable with excessive PDA, so Arthur abandoned kissing you to pin you down, gentle and conscientious of your torso.

“Okay! Okay, you’re better!”

Arthur leaned down over you. “Better than what?”

“You’re better than my books.”

“Good.”

He kissed you, then wiggled his fingers against your neck to make you shriek.

“Arthur, Y/N. Come eat!” Pascale called the two of you over to the group.

Arthur helped you sit up, then held out a hand to help you down the steps to the deck below because god forbid you take the three stairs on your own. You didn’t mind; you liked that he wanted to help you, even with things you didn’t need him for.

You smiled at Arthur, able to forget about the Leclerc civil war for a moment. Then, you turned toward where everyone else was sitting in the main seating area.

Charles was glaring daggers.

Your stomach dropped. You pulled your hand free from Arthur’s to fix your hair then didn’t take it again when you were done.

Arthur looked at you odd, noticed where you were glancing. He glared back just as hard at his older brother.

“Arthur,” you muttered in reproach.

“If maman was not here, I swear I would smack him across the face.”

“Arthur, please.”

After the race in Azerbaijan was over, after podium celebrations and post-race interviews, Charles had spoken a little too loudly about how it was your fault that you had crashed, that it was what happened when you "still drive like a rookie five years into your career."

The video that some random clubgoer had managed to capture of your teammate badmouthing you while you spent the night in the hospital for observation had gone more than a little viral.

To hear him talk about you like that just made you sad. You didn't have the energy to be mad over it.

Arthur did not share those feelings. When he first saw the video, it was everything you could do to keep Arthur from charging halfway across Monaco to kick his brother's door in. Instead, you anxiously sat on the couch in your living room as he and his brother shouted at each other over the phone.

If it wasn't for Pascale's not at all subtle attempts to get her boys to make up, you and Arthur never would have come today. But she was your boyfriend's mother. She would not accept a refusal of her invitation for today.

You ended up sat beside Arthur and about as far from Charles as possible as sandwiches and chips were passed around. You kept making eye contact with Pascale, awkwardly smiling whenever you did before glancing away.

"Charles, do you have any more wine on this boat?" Pascale asked.

Charles stood. "I'll go get some."

"Arthur, why don't you help your brother?"

You held your breath. You truly admired the balls on that woman, and the unapologetically obvious pursuit of making her sons make up. When you glanced at Arthur, almost hopeful, you saw the dark edge to his gaze as he looked at his brother; he was still too angry to be left alone with Charles.

You didn't believe Arthur would actually slap or physically harm Charles in any way but things would not be made better by Arthur confronting his brother right now.

"I'll help," you said before Arthur had to respond. "Lead the way, Charlie."

You false enthusiasm shriveled into nothingness by the time you reached the stairs down to the bar. You trailed after him below deck, staying several paces behind.

Charles was silent as he began opening cupboards. He hadn't so much as looked at you when you took his younger brother's place in assisting him.

"Charles, I—"

"I do not want to hear it, Y/N."

You swallowed around the nervousness trying to clog up your throat. "Are you ever going to let me explain?"

"There is nothing to explain. You are my teammate. Arthur is my brother. You both go behind my back to start dating each other and do not care of what it will affect."

"Believe me, we've talked about it. At length. We know it's a risk."

"And you do not care," Charles concluded, ducking down below the bar and out of view as he continued his search.

"No, we decided it was worth it." You took a breath. "I don't know how to talk about how in love with your brother I am without making you uncomfortable but if I had to choose between him and racing, I would hesitate."

That statement may not sound all that impressive but Charles had once said to you—after many, many drinks following a successful race weekend for Ferrari—that he would know he truly loved a woman if when he had to choose between her and never racing again, he hesitated.

As a fellow driver, you understood exactly what he meant. That was what you felt for Arthur. That was what the youngest Leclerc meant to you. That was how hopelessly in love you were.

"I love Arthur, I really do. And I know it's messy and complicated and whatever else but I don't care about that. At the end of the day, I am happier with Arthur than I have been in a really long time."

Charles was silent behind the bar. He was still ducked down. It felt like you were monologuing to an empty room. It made it a little easier to continue.

"While I am willing to put a little strain on my career for my relationship, what I have never wanted to put strain on is your relationship with your brother. I never wanted anything like this to happen.

“I never wanted to go behind your back. I never would have pursued my feelings for Arthur if he hadn’t been so persistent but he wore me down and I couldn’t tell him no.

“I am truly sorry for breaking your trust. But I cannot stop loving your brother. I will not let him go just because you cannot accept us, despite all the difficulties it may come with.”

Two bottles of wine appeared on the bar top just before Charles stood upright again. He still would not look at you.

"If you can't forgive me for pursuing a member of your family, that's fine. I understand. But Arthur is your little brother; do not throw that away because of me.

"Hate me. Be mad at me. Ignore me on media days. Unfollow all my socials. Make the entire world think you despise me. I don't care; just don't take it out on Arthur.

"I am not worth you two falling out."

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Charles finally looked you in the eye. You held his gaze, imploring him to listen to what you were saying.

His expression did not change the longer he surveyed you. Then, he took the bottles of wine, walked right past you without another word, and went back above deck.

.

"That is it?" Arthur asked as you recounted the events to him later that night.

He was sat on the lid of the toilet as you washed your face before you two were going to settle in to watch a movie.

"Then, I told him I'm not worth you two falling out over and he walked away. Without a word. Just back up the stairs and that was that."

"You are."

"Are what?"

"Worth falling out over."

You sighed. "Arthur—"

"You are. I am serious."

"Arthur, I'm not going anywhere. You don’t have to choose between me and Charles; I don’t want you to.”

“I am not losing you because of him.”

“I’m not asking you to compromise. I’m not letting you go because of Charles, either, but we have to try and make this work. He’s your brother. That has to mean something to you.”

“He is being unreasonable.”

“Have you even tried to talk to him about it? Or have you just been pretending nothing’s changed?”

“Nothing has changed," he said stubbornly.

“Okay, that's one of the problems."

"It should not matter that we're dating."

"No, it should. And it does. I'm dating my teammate's brother; that is going to change some things. You do recall the HR meeting all of us had to suffer through, don't you?"

Shortly after telling Charles of your relationship, you and Arthur had gone to Ferrari to make them aware as well. There had been no major backlash from the team but there had been a several-hours-long meeting with HR and PR that you, Arthur, and Charles all had to be present for.

Arthur physically shuddered at the memory. "Do not remind me."

"Us being together changes things. You cannot ignore it and hope everything will blow over."

"He hasn't even apologized to you."

"Worry about me later. Fix your relationship with your brother before it's too late."

"Y/N, you are not understanding. I cannot fix my relationship with Charles if he is going to speak of you like he did in that video. If he is going to treat you like he has been, nothing is going to be fixed."

"He's your brother—"

"And you are l'amour de ma vie. I do not care that he is my brother; I will not tolerate anyone speaking of you in such a way. I cannot remove you from the situation. I cannot make up with him until he stops treating you horrible.”

You had not realized Arthur’s view on the whole situation. You supposed it made sense now that you thought about it.

Charles was generally being mean to you, not his brother. When the two youngest Leclercs argued, it was over you. Charles seemed convinced that you would never prioritize Arthur or his career over yourself or your own.

True, you would never give up your seat for Arthur, but you wouldn’t do that for anyone. Should the time ever come where Arthur got an F1 seat, you would never give him anything; he would have to work just as hard as anyone else to race against you. That was racing.

You do not think that Charles meant anything to that extreme of a degree. He perhaps meant that Arthur would seldom be prioritized in place of a career in F1, period, but you and Arthur were on the same page about that.

You had spoken in length about it. You had laid everything on the table a few months into your relationship and spoke about it all until you reached a true and total understanding.

And Charles… Well, Charles would always see Arthur as his baby brother, as someone to protect, as someone who is young and unknowing of the world even if he was snugly into his twenties.

“You need to speak to him. Really speak to him. Talk everything through.”

“He needs to apologize, first. Then, and only then, will I talk things out.”

“You are. So. Stubborn,” you growled at him, jokingly pretending to choke him in your frustration.

“If I was not, how would I keep you in check?”

He slid his hand right up under your oversized sleep shirt to hold your core in his palm. Your freshly washed face went a little pink.

“I don’t need to be kept in check,” you said indignantly.

“Don’t you? You always seem to find some way to misbehave and then I have to punish you for it. You know how I hate to punish you.”

“Don't lie. You love my punishments as much as I do.”

He rubbed his hand over the cloth of your panties, pushed his fingers between your closed thighs to prod over the fabric at where you had already started to ache for him. It took so little to get you worked up, just a few touches and some dirty words and you were ready to melt into any mold Arthur wanted.

“Backtalk.” He clicked his tongue at you. “Already misbehaving.”

“I’m debating my point. That is not misbehaving. You’re just being mean.”

“Keep talking and I can show you how mean I can be.”

“That’s not fair—“

You didn’t get to finish your thought before Arthur stood and pushed you against the bathroom counter. Your thighs dug into the edge of the counter as Arthur pressed against your back, hips nestled into the soft curve of your ass.

“Arthur—"

"Hm?"

He slowly slid your hair out of the way. The collar of your ancient sleep shirt was easily stretched to the side so Arthur could kiss the bare skin of his shoulder. His teeth bit into the curve of your neck just enough to feel but not hurt.

You whined, pushed your hips back into him. "Don't tease."

He slid a hand up to your neck, met your eye in the mirror. "Be patient."

He held you there until you nodded your understanding. Only then did he hitch the back of your shirt up to slip his hand inside your panties from behind.

He grabbed a handful of your ass. You exhaled a soft moan.

You hadn't been intimate since the Monday before the Azerbaijan GP, meaning it was pushing two weeks since Arthur had touched you. You were ready to fall apart and he hadn't even really touched you yet.

"Arthur, s'il te plaît."

In the mirror, you could see him smirk at your French. He had told you before that he liked when you spoke to him in French, that he thought your accent was cute.

You knew it was a totally indulgent way to get what you wanted but you didn't care; it worked. His fingers slid between your folds, feeling how slick and ready you were for him.

He cursed into your shoulder, slipping into French to say, "So wet for me—fuck, Y/N."

"Want you, baby. Please."

"Want me? Want me where?"

"Inside me."

"So lewd, mon coeur," he teased. "You're so needy tonight."

"You started it."

"And I will stop it if you are not grateful for what I am giving you."

He pulled his hand out of your underwear and you whined. You reached back to slide a hand into his hair.

"No, please, I'm sorry. Please, don't stop."

Arthur huffed out a laugh. "I will take care of you. You do not need to beg."

He pulled your panties down until you could kick them off to the side. He gently ran a hand over your stomach and ribs. Arthur was always conscientious of you, especially when you were injured.

"Can you bend over for me?"

You did so immediately, elbows coming to rest on the sink counter. Your shirt slid up off your hips to hang loosely around your waist. You felt your arousal hit the air in the bathroom, the chill making you shift your hips.

"So good for me. My good girl."

You could cry from the praise and the fact that his fingers still were not inside of you that exact second. You were embarrassingly worked up.

Arthur seemed to take pity on you, circling his thumb on your clit a few times before slipping a finger into you. Just one was nowhere near enough to fill you up but you dropped your head onto your arms and moaned.

He kissed your backside, knelt down behind you. "So noisy, amour."

Any snarky response you may have had died in your throat when he pressed a second finger into you. That was enough for a bit of a stretch that had you pushing your hips back against his hand.

"Stay still," Arthur warned.

You really did try to listen to him but after slowly scissoring you open with two fingers, he introduced a third and started really finger fucking you. You pressed your forehead against the counter, not able to stop yourself from pushing back into him again, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, searching for something that would stretch you further, reach deeper into you.

He pulled his fingers out of you. Your whine was cut short when he slapped your bared cunt with the same soaked fingers that were just inside of you.

"You are so fucking impatient."

"Just want you."

"Yeah? You want me so bad you cannot even stay still and let me stretch you out? You want to be torn open by my cock?"

You whimpered. That was exactly what you wanted.

He slapped your pussy again. "Huh? Is that what you want?"

You raised your head just enough to be able to watch as Arthur pushed his shorts down. You couldn't see as he pulled his cock free with him stood behind you but you definitely felt it when he pressed his tip against your prepped entrance.

"Oh, fuck—"

He entered you in a swift motion. You choked around a moan.

He was gentle with his arms as he pulled you back against him but ruthless with his hips as he fucked into you without relent. He didn’t press on your bruised torso but he did get a hand around your throat to make you watch yourself in the mirror.

Your dynamic was like this. He was in charge and you loved that. He could hit you, fuck you hard, have you screaming, begging, crying, but where it truly mattered, he would always be gentle with you. His dominance was not just for him; he was always cognizant of your current state and how you were feeling in the moment.

“Arthur.” You breathed his name like a moan, like a prayer.

He kissed your neck, then your cheek. “So good for me.”

Arthur set the pace slow and deep. You could feel him nudging your cervix, stretching you open, the tug of your walls against his cock making you ache for him even more. You were a moaning mess for him in mere moments.

He coaxed you through your first orgasm like that, fucking you slowly from behind as you watched yourselves in the bathroom mirror, his hand between your thighs to push you along. Your legs shook and Arthur held you upright as he kept the torturous pace all the way through your climax.

“You have a bit more in you, amour. Yes?” he asked, still moving his hips as the continued stimulation was making you squirm.

You felt you could barely catch your breath but you nodded anyway. “Yes.”

Arthur hummed, pleased. “Good girl. Bend over.”

If your first orgasm was for you, the second was surely for Arthur. Sex was always a game of give and take with him. Though, even when he was taking, you were always being given so much.

As soon as he had you bent over again, he gripped your hips, adjusted his own, then started fucking into you fast and hard. You grabbed onto the counter to steady yourself, let your head drop onto the quartz as you went pliant and easy.

You were shaking from the overstimulation, from not getting a break between your first high and the second that Arthur was making you chase.

“Come on, amour. Come on.”

His pace was just uneven enough for you to become aware that he was definitely close. He was waiting for you.

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing out another wave of pleasure that had you trembling against the counter. Your head felt light, legs literally giving out and you would have fallen to your knees if Arthur wasn’t still gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, strong arming you into staying on your feet.

You cried his name and your body went slack. Arthur fucked you through your second high and past it, stroked himself out with your body and buried himself deep inside of you as he came.

You mewled at the feeling, at the depth and the spurting warmth. Arthur smoothed a hand up your spine to soothe you. He whispered praises and pressed kisses into your skin until you came back to Earth, getting your legs back underneath you.

"Welcome back, mon coeur."

You could hear the proud grin in his words but could only give a weak groan in response as you pushed yourself upright. Arthur helped you up, then sat you on the bathroom counter and kissed you sweetly before setting to cleaning you up.

He scooped you up into his arms once you were clean and dressed to carry you out to the living room.

"I can still walk," you told him but still happily wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, leaning against his chest.

"I'll have to do better next time, then."

Arthur set you on the couch. He told you to stay as he bustled around getting popcorn and drinks ready.

"What do you want to watch?" you asked.

"Whatever you want."

"Don't give me that kind of power," you mumbled to yourself.

You didn't giving in to the temptation to queue up some cringeworthy romcom you know Arthur would hate. He had given you enough tonight. You could be nice about the movie choice.

You made it through maybe half of the movie (some new Netflix film you thought looked decent) when there was a knock at the door. It was a soft noise, almost hesitant.

You shared a look with your boyfriend before you both checked your phones to make sure you hadn't missed a text from someone letting you know they were on their way over. You both came up blank.

Despite it being your apartment, Arthur pushed you down when you went to stand and ran to answer the door himself. You couldn't quite see the door from the couch, so you strained your ears to listen.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked, not quite unkindly but certainly not happy.

"I went to maman's. You were not there."

Charles. Why had he showed up at your door unannounced this late in the evening?

"I've been staying with Y/N most of the time."

Silence followed. It was painful just eavesdropping on the two brothers. You nearly got to your feet to approach them and attempt to mediate but Arthur beat you to it.

"What do you want, Charles?"

More silence. You don't think you were breathing, scared if you made yourself known it would ruin whatever was about to happen.

"I wanted to apologize," Charles eventually said.

"Apologize?"

You bit your cheek to stop from screeching with joy. Finally—finally! You were so ready for this whole thing to be over with. Even if it took some subtle guilt tripping on your part, you were more than pleased at the outcome.

"For how I've been treating you since you told me about you and Y/N. Is she here?"

"Yes."

"Yes, well, it is her apartment, no?" Charles tried for a weak laugh but Arthur did not take mercy and join him. "Er, well... I—I shouldn't have been so quick to judge you two. I was upset, at first, that you had hidden it from me.

"I forget that you are an adult and you have pursued your own career and you do not need protecting from people who might try to take advantage of you—not that I believe Y/N would do such a thing!"

You cringed. This could go downhill really fast considering Arthur's protective streak over you.

"Yes, I am an adult. How you feel will not dictate my relationship. But how you treat Y/N will dictate my relationship with you. How can you speak of her like you have? She has been your friend for so long."

"I know what it has been like for you to constantly be compared to me. I know it has been difficult for you and I have become paranoid in my fame that someone will use the people I care about to get to me."

"That is ridiculous. Y/N is just as well-known as you, if not more. And she knew you before she knew me—how does any of this make sense, Charles?"

Arthur had a point but you could understand where Charles was coming from. It was always a fear in your own mind that something may happen to or someone might try to take advantage of your family or your friends because they were in connection with you.

"It doesn't," Charles admitted. "It doesn't make any sense. I was being stupid. I assumed the worst—thought Y/N was using you to mess with my head—and refused to see it any other way and I never should have treated Y/N as I have been or said what I have about her.

"She is one of the most talented drivers I have ever driven alongside. She is the kindest person I know. She has been my friend for years longer than she has been dating you. I should not have let my judgement be so clouded by my own fear.

"I am sorry, Arthur. And if Y/N is here, I would like to apologize to her, as well."

It was quiet for several moments. You waited in silence, still holding your breath. Had you breathed at all since Charles started apologizing? Was Arthur going to say anything? Was he just standing there?

There was the rustle of fabric followed by the telltale sighs of relief that accompanied a much needed hug. You exhaled and slumped back against the couch. Thank God.

It was long overdue that the youngest Leclercs made up. Thankfully, Charles knew his brother well enough to know that you must also be apologized to if things were ever going to get better.

"Y/N?" Arthur called.

You suddenly remembered that you had been eavesdropping the whole time. Charles had no idea you were just around the corner in your living room. You had heard the entirety of Charles' apology, even the things not meant for your ears.

You cleared your throat. "Yes?"

"Do you think Charles should be forgiven?"

You laughed and went to join the brothers in the foyer. "I absolutely do. Do I get a hug, too?"

Charles' face was red but he seemed to find the humor in the situation, too. He opened his arms for you and wrapped you in a tight embrace.

"I am sorry, Y/N. I know you would never purposefully try to hurt me or my brother. I was rash in my understanding of the situation."

"It's okay, Charlie. I just missed my friend."

"I'm sorry." Charles squeezed you tight once more before letting you go.

When you stepped back into Arthur, he let his arm slip around your waist. He kissed the side of your head. You leaned into him, too pleased with the outcome of tonight to fret much over PDA in front of Charles.

For the first time, Charles didn't seem deeply disturbed by your affection. However, he did sigh faux irritably.

"You two are way too cute together. It was so difficult to be mad at you sometimes."

You and Arthur laughed.

"I am serious! You should see yourselves."

Despite knowing it was an inappropriate train of thought to entertain in front of your boyfriend's brother, you couldn't help but think back to just about an hour ago and how you had watched yourselves through the bathroom mirror.

"Oh, we have," Arthur said, innuendo lost on his brother but not on you.

You smacked him in the chest. Arthur just laughed. Luckily, Charles seemed none the wiser.

[randominchident]

slim pickins! (part 2)

max verstappen x popstar!reader -> social media au

max has been a silent fan of popstar!reader for years, it's a running joke in the fandom at this point. a chance meeting changes everything and he doesn't intended to let her down like past guys have... it's time for y/n to come to a race. (part one)

-> fc: sabrina carpenter (other pinterest finds when necessary)

private message with max verstappen

redbullracing has made a post

liked by y/n.chronicles, 🎀user and more

Tom Holland. Neymar Jr. A last-minute chart-topping surprise. The only thing more packed than the grandstands is the garage guest list 👀🔥 #RedBullGarageThings #SilverstoneGP

comments

user7 Y/N IN MAX'S MERCH? OH WE'VE WON.

speedandceleb the VIP list was longer than the straight at Baku 😩

champagneandchoruses she’s writing “pole position” as we speak

↪ taylorinturn1 when he wins the race and she drops a love song next week? poetic cinema.

toomanyplaylists TRYING TO STAY CALM AND FAILING

↪ betterbest they really thought they could casually post y/n as if we haven't spent the past week freaking out over her and max

y/nuseryeah soft launch? hard laugh? IDK BUT IM AM LAUNCHING MYSELF INTO THE SUN IF WE DON'T GET A PHOTO OF THEM TOGETHER TODAY. 4K QUALITY. IN EACH OTHERS ARMS

↪ betterbest hey redbullracing admin this is our hour of need. you know what must be done.

newuser don’t play with me… is that Y/N?! AT SILVERSTONE?? speediest hard launch ever???

y/n.chronicles caught in 4K huh

↪ redbullracing our candid queen

comment liked by max.verstappen

↪ y/nfanatic OMG MAX LIKED

↪ deluluera SIR get off instagram and get into YOUR CAR.

↪ lunalove he's got his priorities straight. his girl > his car

comment liked by y/n.chronicles and max.verstappen

user5 the way the comments only care about y/n being there 😭✌️

charles.leclerc y/n.chronicles come visit ferrari next!

↪ max.verstappen she's fine here, thanks.

↪ y/nfanatic he really said "no❤️" 😭

max.verstappen has made a post

liked by y/n.chronicles, 🎀user and more

Simply lovely 👊 Great to get some points for the team and had some extra motivation this week to end up on top.

comments

user1 "extra motivation" man is whipped.

y/n.chronicles i was cheering the loudest. probably.

↪ max.verstappen confirmed. heard you over the engine. ❤️

↪ f1teaqueen oh we’re LOUD-launching now huh

↪ readingwriting yeah ok max you win. you always win but like YOU WIN

pensburner THE KISS.

↪ readingwriting wait WHAT KISS.

↪ pensburner he got out of the car and ran straight to her! jumped the fucking barricade and lifted her up! and KISSED. its all over tiktok rn

↪ pensburner completely ignored his team but i don't think they cared because they were the ones cheering and clapping the hardest at the kiss... like i think they've heard max talk about y/n for a while...

↪ redbullracing we have.

↪ readingwriting GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET FR OMG. I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS REAL.

↪ y/n.chronicles yeah honestly neither girl

↪ readingwriting 📸 Y/N. 📸

hotgirlupdates saw a tweet of someone who bumped into y/n in the paddock and got a photo, apparently she was wearing one of the max merch hats and laughed about max giving it to her so he's with her throughout the whole race GOD I'VE SEEN WHAT YOU'VE DONE FOR OTHERS.

y/n.chronicles has posted to her story

max.verstappen yours ❤️

↪ y/n.chronicles ☺️💋

max.verstappen has posted to his story

y/n.news has made a post

liked by f1fangirl, 🎀user and more

congrats to y/n's boyfriend (?) for driving fast! yay! (sorry guys I don't know anything about f1 I'm just trying to be supportive but I’m so lost!)

comments

y/nfansunite i just spat out my tea reading this 😭 the fucking photo choices 😭😭😭 not a single photo from the win

user31 so glad we are all collectively going insane this weekend cause that is the only explaination for this post

max.verstappen thanks

↪ y/n.news UM YOURE WELCOME???

user1 didn't realise liking someones music would lead me to having to learn how a car sport works. but here we are.

y/nstan two weeks ago we were clowning max for liking y/n's posts and never saying anything. now he's going home with her and commenting on her fan account posts. lets this be a lesson to never give up on your dreams ig

private message with max verstappen

y/n.chronicles has made a post

liked by max.verstappen, 🎀user and more

london you have my heart 💌 thanks for all the shared tears and all the love you gave me. sad to leave but excited for what's to come 💋

comments

lunalove GUYS THE PIANO. Y/N ONLY EVER POSTS WITH THE PIANO BEFORE NEW MUSIC COMES OUT. "excited for what's to come 💋" MAX ALBUM INCOMING!

comment liked by y/n.chronicles

hope you enjoyed <3 comments are loved <3

(ps. the story photo max posted is one y/n sent him pre show… it’s his lockscreen now)

[tpwk-formula1]

Paddock Bunny Series - 1

AN - Yay! I'm so happy for the first post to my new series! I hope you like it and if you have any ideas of what you want to see happen in the world of Y/N Brown feel free to message me with your ideas! I have nothing planned for this series and no real end goal so this could be 10 chapters long to 100 chapters long just depends on how much you guys like it!

Happy Birthday to Lando!!

Drivers included:

Lando Norris x Reader

Carlos Sainz x Lando Norris x Reader (not every chapter will have a threesome but it was necessary for the plot!)

TW - Squirting, multiple orgasms, oral (M and F receiving/giving), hickey, back scratches, protected sex, MxM (not all threesomes with have MxM), cum swallowing, cum swapping

WC - 4.1k +

Y/N POV

"Please let me take you home tonight," Lando slurs in my ear for a third time tonight.

"Lando, you're too drunk to sleep with your bosses daughter," I reply back softly making him groan.

"Please, just one night and we never have to talk about it again," Lando says making me laugh and shake my head.

"If you get your maiden win within the first 10 races of the season I'll let you take me home for a night," I reply back making Lando's face light up at the thought.

"Deal!" Lando smile and runs off making me laugh softly and shake my head knowing he would forget about it by morning.

Lando and I have known each other since his rookie season in Formula 1 and have been close friends since than. It was no secret that Lando and I both had some kind of tension between us but neither of us trying anything knowing how much of a grey area it is.

That was back in February before the season had even started and now it's just a few hours after Miami and Lando is texting me the room number to his hotel room.

"478, it't the suite on the left corner"

"I thought you would have forgotten about that night"

"I'd never forget the one chance to finally sleep with you"

I just roll my eyes at the short conversation before gathering my belongings and making my way to the driver who would be taking me back to the hotel all Mclaren employees were staying in.

When I walked through the Miami hotel I quickly make my way up to Lando's room following the directions he had sent me.,

"Hi," Lando says opening the door after I had just knocked.

"Hi," I smile back inviting myself in. I spent the first couple minutes in Lando's hotel just looking at him to nervous to make the first move.

"Do you want this?" Lando asks softly making me look up and nod softly.

"Ya, a deal is a deal," I reply softly making Lando's smile drop slightly before taking a few tentative steps towards me.

"No, that's not how consent works. Do you want to do it?" Lando asks stepping even closer so we were now face to face with each other.

Instead of responding I connect my hands behind his neck and pull him down for a kiss. Once the initial shock wears off Lando melts into the kiss wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer into his chest.

"Fuck, Lan," I moan softly when Lando squeezing my ass with his hands.

Lando's lips start trailing from my lips down to my neck where he spends special attention on my neck looking for my sweet spot and once he locates is just under my ear I let out a soft moan making Lando smirk before sinking his teeth down and sucking softly I'm sure leaving a small mark behind.

I feel Lando's arms wrap around my waist tighter before softly mumbling jump. Once I just softly I wrap my arms around his waist and letting him walk us towards the bedroom.

Once we get into the bedroom he lightly drops me down onto the bed before he slowly pulls his shirt from his body before letting it fall to the ground.

Once Lando's upper half was bare he slowly climbed into the bed and over my body letting himself gently sit on my thighs while he stares down at me before slowly pulling my shirt up my torso and helping me sit up softly so he can pull it off completely.

Once he discards the Mclaren team kit on the ground he get his first glimpse of my bare tits.

"Fuck," Lando whispers softly still staring right at my tits before he takes a tit in each hand and gives it a firm squeeze making me moan softly at the feeling.

"Sound so pretty," Lando whispers out more to himself than me but it didn't matter my cheeks reddened at the praise regardless.

"Lan, please," I whine softly trying to grind my hips up making me smirk before pushing my hips back down towards the bed denying me of the little stimulation I was getting.

"Patience, I've waited years for my chance, you can wait another few minutes to feel my tongue," Lando replies back making me whine at his words while trying to clench my thighs together but being stopped by Lando's sturdy body blocking them from closing fully.

"God, you are even more beautiful that I could have dreamed," Lando groans while softly rubbing his fingers up my sides making me whine softly and goosebumps to grow across my skin.

Once Lando had felt like he teased enough he slowly started pulling my black Mclaren issued skirt off before discarding it somewhere on the floor before running a teasing finger over the center of my thong making me suck in a breath at the feeling of his finger light touch running across my overly sensitive clit.

"Fuck, you're already soaked for me," Lando says with a soft smirk before roughly ripping my thong from my body making me gasp out loudly at the sting of the fabric tearing against my skin.

It was clear in the moment that any patience left in Lando has completely ran out and now the starved man in front of me was ready to have his first warm meal in over a year.

When the first flick of Lando's tongue was sent right over my clit I can't help but moan out and arch my back at the feeling.

"Fuck," I moan softly when I feel Lando's tongue flick over my clit again making me whimper.

"SO fucking responsive," Lando groans out before diving back into my soaked pussy.

"Oh Lando," I moan when I feel Lando start sucking my clit into his mouth. My hands were now tangled in Lando's hair gripping and pulling him impossibly closer.

"So sweet," Lando mumbles into my pussy making me whimper at the vibrations being sent straight to my clit.

I knew with how long it had been with the last time I had slept with someone and how good Lando was abusing my clit I knew I wasn't gonna last long.

"Fuck," I scream out softly when I feel two of Lando's long fingers slip into my soaked pussy filling me up and grazing my G-spot was perfect precision.

"I can tell you're already close," Lando says with a smirk spread across his face while he starts finger fucking me making me moan and arch my back off the bed again which has Lando using his hand to push me back into the bed before attaching his mouth to my clit and sucking.

"I'm gonna cum," I announce loudly while gripping tighter into Lando's now messy curls.

No sooner than the words leaving my mouth Lando instantly speeds up the actions with his fingers and sucking even harder on my clit almost instantly throwing me over the edge into a loudly messy orgasm that left me shaking under Lando.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant when I have no time to come down from the overwhelming pleasure because Lando and still fingering me with lighting speed.

"Oh shit," I moan when I feel a second orgasm approaching before the tightly wound band in my tummy snapped throwing me over the edge into a squirting orgasm.

"Fuck," Lando gasps amazed at the pleasure he just had coursing through my body.

"Holy fuck," I gasp when I look down and realize the mess I had caused but with the smug look on Lando's face the mess is the last thing on his mind right now.

Lando slowly climbs out of the bed and quickly takes off his pants and briefs in one go letting his hard length spring free. My eyes are instantly locked on the red angry tip that was already leaking precum.

"I want a taste," I announce timidly while letting my eyes flicker up to lock eyes with Lando where he's staring at me with a smirk spread across his face.

"I'm serious," I say while climbing out of bed and getting on my knees and instantly gripping onto Lando's cock making him hiss at the sensations.

I slowly bring my mouth to the tip of Lando's cock where I lick a strip collecting a bit of the precum from his cock and let the flavors linger on my tongue before I take his tip into my mouth and start sinking down taking more of his cock as I go.

"Fuck," Lando groans letting his hands tangle into my brunette hair.

I can't help but moan at the feeling of Lando's cock fill my mouth more than any man has ever.

Once my nose brushes against the trimmed patch of hair covering Lando's pelvic bone I can't help but look up to find Lando with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. When I slowly start bobbing my head with still looking up at Lando I notice the way his face pinches up at the pleasure before he moans softly and looks down locking eyes with me.

"Fuck, you're a sight to be been," Lando groans using the hands tangled in my hair to bob me up and down his cock faster.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last long," Lando groans at the admission but it only makes me speed up my action on his cock. I bring my hand up to his balls and start playing with them which has Lando groaning and pushing me all the way down on his cock before he lets out a low groan before cumming deep into my throat making me gag slightly but still swallow what I can.

"Fuck," Lando groans slipping his cock from my lips and rubbing the spit and cum mixture across my mouth marking me with his cum, his way of marking his territory.

"You're so hot. Your swollen little lips covered in my cum," Lando leans down close to my face with a smirk on his face before the heat of the moment got the best of him and he takes my mouth in his tasting his own cum on his lips.

With Lando's lips still locked with mine he slowly picks me up off the ground before he gently places me on the bed near the edge where I feel his still hard cock rub against my clit making me moan.

When Lando pulls away still standing at the edge of the bed I go to whine when I see him grab a condom off the night stand making me raise a brow at him.

"It was the first thing I went out and bought when I won," Lando says with a boyish smile on his face clearly embarrassed to admit how excited he was.

"I appreciate the readiness," I tell him softly while I watch him roll the condom down his length before stepping between my spread thighs again and tearing my clit with his cock before slipping his length into my pussy making me whimper at the feeling.

"Fuck, so damn tight," Lando grits out between clenched teeth making me whimper at that the burning feeling of being stretched out on his cock.

"Slower," I whimper when I feel Lando start rocking his hips into mine which has him stopping his movements giving me a few moments to adjust before I nod and feel Lando slowly pull his cock out an inch or so before thrusting back in making both of us moan at the feeling.

"Oh," I moan softly when I feel Lando's thrusts start to pick up making my nails dig in a bit deeper into his shoulders making him hiss at the feeling.

"Lan, it feels so good," I moan when I feel Lando's thrust turn from fast and shallow to hard and deep making me feel him in a whole new way. I can feel my nails digging into his back, probably leaving marks behind but with the way Lando only speeds up the harder I grip him I don't think he has any complaints.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Lando grunts out clearly getting close to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum," I announce suddenly when I feel Lando's cock drill right into me G-spot over and over again.

"Fuck, cum with me," Lando grunts his hips shuddering a bit before I feel him start to cum into the condom sending me over the edge into another shaking orgasm.

"Fuck," Lando grunts coming down from his orgasm as he slowly slips his cock from my overstimulated pussy making me whimper at the stimulation.

"Fuck, you took me so well," Lando tells me softly helping me sit up before handing me a water bottle and letting me take a few sips before he takes a few sips himself.

"You're not weirded out to drink from the same straw as me," I ask softly making Lando laugh lightly.

"I tasted my cum from your lips, we're past sharing water bottles," Lando says softly making a me laugh with him and nod my head understanding.

For the next 30 minutes Lando and I spent it in the shower while he told me how good I did for him making me blush under the praise.

When we get out of the bathroom and I wince when I catch sight of Lando's back.

"I'm sorry," I say softly while running a light finger over one of the darker scratches.

"I would live the rest of my life with them if it meant I got to fuck you everyday," Lando says while looking at the damage in the mirror with a shrug.

"You want to do it again?" I ask shyly not even thinking about the possibility of doing it again.

"I mean, yeah. It was honestly the best sex I've ever had but if this was a one off for you, I'm more than okay with that," Lando tells me honestly making me smile and nod.

"I'd like to do it again," I tell him softly with a nod making him smile.

It's only a few days later when I get another Facetime from Lando. When I answer I come face to face with a smirking Carlos and a sheepish looking Lando staring back at me. Both boys where clearly shirtless on a yacht but from the looks of it they were still docked.

"You attacked my boy?" Carlos asks with a smirk falling from his lips making me jaw drop slightly at a total loss for words.

"I have no idea what you're on about Sainz," I respond back with a blush creeping up onto my cheeks.

"No? This should remind you," Carlos says while flipping the camera and showing me Lando's back that was still scattered with a few lingering marks.

"Okay, so Lando and I had a bit of fun. What about it?" I ask trying to be nonchalant. It had never been a secret that when Carlos joined Mclaren with Lando I had a crush on him so having a conversation like this year later it a bit bone rattling.

"I just wish I had gotten an invite," Carlos says while flipping the camera back to face a red faced Lando and a smug looking Carlos. I know my cheeks are as red as Lando's if not redder.

"What?!" Is the only word out of my mouth clearly still too stunned to speak.

"Oh cut the crap, Brown! It was no secret that you fancied me back in my Mclaren days. If you're in Monaco come to the dock," Carlos says with a smirk making me gawk at the two for a few seconds before I hang up the phone and get changed into a swimsuit.

I shoot Lando a quick text letting him know I would be there in a few minutes. I guess you could say curiosity killed the cat but if a long time crush was offering me a day on his yacht I wasn't gonna pass it up.

When I get to the dock I find Lando sitting at the nose of the boat with a sour look spread across him face while looking at his phone while Carlos is smirking with his arms crossed watching me approach him.

"We have company," Carlos announcing making Lando look up from his phone letting his sour look deepen.

"Before I step foot on this yacht. I need to know what is about to happen and if both of you guys are consenting," I saw while looking directly at Lando.

"There's zero pressure on what we do today. But both of us understand what could happen and we're on the same page, Lando's just but hurt he couldn't keep you to himself," Carlos says making me raise a brow at him.

"No Carlos, I'm annoyed at you because you haven't shut up for the past 15 minutes about what happened between me and her," Lando announces with a bit of a whiney voice making me laugh softly.

When I set onto the yacht I look around to make sure we were alone before I walk to Lando and stand between his legs and lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips.

"Do you want whatever could happen to happen?" I whisper making sure he knew it was just a conversation between us.

"Yes," Lando finally answers looking up at me through his long lashes.

“I’m positive, it wouldn't be the first time Carlos and I shared someone,” Lando admits softly making me look up at Carlos with a surprised face. He just sends me back one of his signature smirks making me roll my eyes jokingly before stepping away from Lando and placing my stuff where it belonged before pulling off my swimsuit cover and making me way to find Carlos is alright driving the boat away from the dock while Lando rests back allowing his tanned skin to soak up even more sunlight.

I climb onto the sofa next to Lando allowing my head to rest on his shoulder.

"We aren't doing a single thing you don't consent to, and Carlos is big on verbal consent," Lando tells me softly angling his head so he can look me in the eye.

"Okay," I reply softly with a small smile playing on my lips.

Once Carlos has gotten us far away from the shore I realize we are completely alone in a cove with not a single person around us.

When Carlos approaches both Lando and I he leans down and places a quick kiss on Lando's mouth making me gawk at them softly before Carlos turns his attention on me.

"Can I kiss you, Hermosa?" Carlos asks softly making a me nod my head but quickly give a soft yes remembering what Lando had just been telling me.

As soon as the word left my mouth Carlos crashes his lips onto mine and our kiss was the complete opposite of the one him and Lando shared. While his and Lando's was quick and a bit lack luster Carlos and I's is heated and intense.

When I feel Carlos softly graze his tongue against my bottom lip I part my mouth and feel Carlos's tongue tangle with mine making me whimper at the feeling.

"Fuck, such a sweet little mouth. Lando has told me your head game is the best, would you like to prove him right?" Carlos asks softly.

"Yes sir," I reply back softly while pushing Carlos to sit next to me making me turn my body towards him on my hands and knees with my ass facing Lando making him groan at the sight of my swimsuit riding up my ass.

I pull Carlos's swim trunks just enough to free his hard cock before bringing my mouth down to his cock and pulling it into my mouth making him hiss at the feeling of me taking his full length into my mouth.

"Fuck," Carlos groans throwing his head back when I feel the tip of his cock bypass my gag reflex taking him all the way.

I start bobbing my head on his cock making Carlos tangle his fingers into my hair while Lando pulls my swim bottoms to the side where he started teasing my clit making me moan around Carlos's cock.

Once Lando felt I was wet enough he grips into my hair pulling me off Carlos's cock making me whine at the loss. Once Lando gets me situated on my hands and knees but this time facing Lando I realize all the prep he had done wasn't for him but was for Carlos.

Lando pulls his shorts off letting me take his cock into my mouth while I feel the tip of Carlos's cock teasing my clit making me pull off Lando's cock and trying to turn my head.

"He's wearing protection," Lando tells me softly making me nod my head and get back to work with Lando's cock. When I feel Carlos slowly sinking his thick cock into my tight pussy I whimper at the stretch. I can tell he's wearing a condom making me smile softly to myself knowing Lando was telling me the truth.

I knew I wasn't gonna last long but when I feel my orgasm build almost instantly I start freaking out slightly trying to pull my hips away from Carlos.

"Am I hurting you," Carlos asks letting my hips go letting me get away slightly.

"No! I was about to cum," I admit sheepishly making Carlos groans and sink his cock back into me in one quick motion before pounding into me and throwing me over the edge almost instantly.

"I don't care if you cum in 3 seconds or 3 hours, I want you to let go," Carlos groans fucking me through my orgasm before slowing down almost completely letting me come down from my orgasm without over stimulating me but once I got a few minutes of rest Carlos gets right back to it making me moan around Lando's cock making him whimper and pull me off his cock not wanting to cum just yet.

"Fuck, Carlos," I moan rather loudly letting my voice echo across the water coming out far louder than I was hoping.

"So fucking tight," Carlos groans clearly getting close to the edge making Lando shove his cock back into my mouth. I could feel another orgasm building deep in the pit of my stomach and once I finally release I feel Carlos shove deep into me one last time before filling the condom up with his cock. I feel Lando shudder one last time before a loud whine leaves his mouth and he starts cumming filling my mouth with his cum.

"Don't swallow," Carlos groans while slowly slipping his cock from my pussy making a me turn my head slightly and open my mouth showing him my mouth full of cum.

"Swallow some of it and spit the rest into his mouth," Lando says out of breath behind me making me look at Carlos who has a smirk on his face and he nods giving me permission. I swallow half of Lando's load before standing up and pulling Carlos into my mouth and pushing the rest of the cum in his mouth where he quickly swallows it and pulls me in for a quick makeout before pulling back and grabbing his discarded swim trunks.

Lando helps me get dressed before pulling me back into his chest and letting me cuddle up with him.

"Who else have you told?" I finally ask in a hushed whisper while Carlos starts moving the yacht to another location.

"No one I swear! But I'm sure Carlos will tell Charles, who will tell Pierre, who will tell Yuki, who will tell everyone," Lando admits sheepishly making my face grow hot and a groan to leave my lips.

"Great so I'm about to become the paddock whore," I saw with a cringed look across my face.

"No, I'm positive if anything they'll just want a taste," Lando tells me softly making me groan and throw my head back.

"That might even be worse," I groan again making Lando laugh softly.

"You do what you want. If someone tries anything and you don't want it you tell them to fuck off," Lando says as if this was the most normal situation in the world.

Over the next few weeks the group chat that started with just Lando, Carlos and I had slowly grown in size. While I wasn't sure how word had spread so fast I was positive that my life was not the same one it was at the start of the season.

[thelovehypothesis]

You ramble, but it's adorable

Ollie Bearman x fem!reader

From this request 

+1k words

a/n's: this was requested on my old account which I accidentally deleted but, hope this fic finds the person that requested it!

warnings: fluff!

summary: lost in your latest obsession, and he's completely captivated by your every word—because to Ollie, every ramble is just another reason to fall in love.

Ollie had always found it easy to get lost in the small moments—those quiet pauses between races, when the world slowed down just enough for him to savour the simplicity of life. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the way he felt right now, watching you animatedly explain your latest obsession.

You were sitting on the couch, knees tucked under you, eyes sparkling as you tried to unpack the complex universe that Taylor Swift had created with her "folklore" album. Your hands moved in quick gestures as you traced out what you called "the love triangle of all love triangles" between Betty, James, and August. Ollie leaned against the backrest, listening with a quiet smile, his eyes never leaving your face. 

"And then—" you continued, your voice slightly higher in pitch with excitement, "in 'Cardigan,' Betty is talking about how she loved James even after he messed everything up. But, and here's the crazy part, 'August' is from the perspective of the girl James cheated on her with!" You waved your hands in a dramatic arc. "It’s so genius because it’s like each song is a different piece of the same story. I mean, can you even imagine the emotional depth it takes to create something like that?"

Ollie chuckled softly, shaking his head just enough for you to notice but not enough to interrupt you. You barely paused, too deep in your passionate analysis of the music to stop. 

"But wait, I’m not done!" You looked at him, eyes wide. "You’ve got 'Betty' next, which is James' apology song. He’s basically trying to get Betty back after messing around with August, but you can tell he’s just a stupid kid who didn’t know what he had until he lost it!" You sighed dramatically, clutching a pillow to your chest. "It’s heartbreaking, but also like... I can't stop listening to it on repeat."

Ollie couldn't help it; his heart swelled at how much you cared about all these tiny details, how you put your whole soul into explaining it to him. He loved how your face lit up with excitement, how your voice carried the melody of your thoughts so effortlessly. And he especially loved how you didn’t care whether he knew every little detail or not—you just wanted to share it with him.

"You’re adorable, you know that?" Ollie said softly, his voice cutting through your rambling just enough to make you pause.

You blinked, thrown off for a second. "What?" 

"You ramble, but it's adorable," he repeated, this time with that signature Ollie grin that made your stomach flip. He reached out, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered near your cheek, warm and soft.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. "I’m not rambling… am I?"

"You absolutely are," Ollie teased, leaning forward so that his face was inches from yours. "But don’t stop. I like it when you talk about stuff like this. It’s like... I can see how much it means to you, and I love seeing you so happy."

You playfully swatted his arm, but your heart was beating faster, the tender warmth of his words melting away any embarrassment. "Fine," you said, narrowing your eyes in mock seriousness, "but don’t complain when I start talking about the metaphors behind the lyrics."

"I wouldn’t dream of it." He pulled you closer, his arm slipping around your waist. His eyes softened as they held yours, and for a moment, the world outside your little bubble disappeared.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush of affection. But then Ollie deepened it, his hand cupping the side of your face as he pulled you impossibly closer, his lips warm and insistent, making your heart race even faster. 

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you couldn’t help but grin at him. "I think that was just a tactic to stop me from talking."

Ollie smirked, the mischievous glint in his eyes impossible to ignore. "Maybe," he admitted, his thumb grazing your lower lip, "but it worked, didn’t it?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that you were already melting under his touch. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing you in as if you were the most precious thing in the world. 

"Seriously though," Ollie murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love listening to you talk. About Taylor Swift, about racing, about whatever it is that’s on your mind. You’re just so… passionate about everything, and it makes me love you even more."

The way he said it, so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made your heart skip a beat. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close again, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"You’re too sweet, Ollie," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He chuckled lightly, his arms tightening around you. "Only for you."

For a while, you both stayed like that—curled up in each other’s arms, the TV flickering in the background, the weight of the world outside fading away. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that this moment, with him holding you so gently, was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while, you shifted slightly, tilting your head up to look at him again. "Okay, but I’m serious about that love triangle. You have to admit it’s pretty genius, right?"

Ollie smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before nodding. "It’s genius," he agreed, even though he barely understood half of what you were saying. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way your eyes lit up, the way your voice danced with excitement. And if listening to Taylor Swift conspiracies made you this happy, then he would listen to every single one.

"Thanks for putting up with my rambling," you said, your voice softening.

Ollie smiled, brushing his lips against yours once more. "It’s not putting up with anything. I love it, and I love you."

And with that, he kissed you again—soft, sweet, and full of love. The kind of kiss that felt like home. The kind that made you feel like no matter what you rambled about, he would always be there to listen, to smile, and to love you through it all.

---The End---

-Lots of love, Em.

[bunny-jpeg]

unconventional payment

charles leclerc

cw: no smut, mafia au, au-typical violence, mafia boss!charles, gambling, smoking, blood, scary!charles, forced marriage

basically charles beats the shit out of your fiance for selling you away to get rid of a gambling debt! enjoy!

this bunny runs on tags, comments & reblogs! feed the bunny! (also tell me if you want more of this, i wrote this on a weird whim)

it was very clear that your current fiance had a gambling problem, it start off quite innocent, a few dollars here and there. then it grew to jewellery and eventually the necklace your grandmother gave you went missing. any paycheck he got went down the drain within a few days and you had to stretch your budget to cover for it.

it was at that point you should've packed up your things and left. but you moved with him to monaco to live a nice life. without him, you really had nowhere else to go. so you stayed and watched the money drip away like a leaky tap.

you were furious when you lost your apartment, you snapped your jaws at him like a dog. but what else were you supposed to do. you shoved him and yelled with tears in your eyes. how dare him. how dare this selfish man play you like a fool!

until he told you he could win it all back, but the stakes were higher. not only was your engagement ring on the line, but your hand in marriage too. the highest stake of them all, you.

you dressed nicely for the event at the casino, your hands shook as you got ready. he had pawned most of your nice clothes for cash, and the thought made your blood run cold.

you ended up having to take the bus to the casino because your fiance had sold off his car to pay for his habit. it was at this moment you should've turn away and got the first flight back home. your parents would be happy to see you.

eventually you were seated at the table with your hopes held high. you kept your head high as you sat across the table with the mafia boss that your fiance was tangled up in.

he was handsome, when he spoke, it seemed like he was speaking to you. his voice laid over your shoulders like a heavy blanket. it scared you a little.

you reached for your fiance and said, your voice a little tight, "please. win this." you earned a reassuring nod and a kiss on the roundness of your cheek.

and then he went and lost it, all of it. you held your head high as you looked at this pathetic man you once called a fiance. you said with all the strength in your voice, "congratulations, dear. you have truly fucked me over." and did not break into tears as you felt the strong hand of the boss' bodyguard against your back.

it was only when you were shuffled into the car that you broke down. sobs raked your body as you hunched over in the leather seat of a car that was probably financed by all the money you fiance lost.

the boss got in soon after, his hand in yours. it was far more gentle than you expected from a man who probably killed for fun. his other hand wiped your tears. he sighed, "don't cry, mon petit oiseau."

you sniffled and pulled away from him, with venom in your voice, "how could i not be, i just got sold off like a prize winning hog! so you can what, sell me on the black market!"

the boss looked at you and reached for you, but you pulled away. you made yourself smaller. you pleaded for him to not touch you, so he didn't. he however got closer to you in the backseat on the car and took off his suit jacket and gloves.

he placed the jacket over your shoulders and placed the gloves in your lap. he said in a soft voice, "you hold onto these for a moment." then got out of the car. he softly closed the door behind him.

you heard a noise outside and moved towards the car door that the boss exited out of. you opened the door and near the casino, partially concealed by the wall of the building. it was the boss, holding your fiance to the ground while he punched the living daylights out of him. the sound of his fist hitting your lover's face was disgusting and honestly scared you.

but deep down, a sick part of you liked seeing your bastard of an ex-fiance get beaten down for everything he had done. everything he had done to you.

the boss let go of your fiance when he caught the sight of you. and got back up. he looked down at the other man and gave him a sharp kick in the side before he rolled up his shirt sleeves further. he said, "a man who is willing to sell his woman deserves worse than death. you should be lucky to be alive, but if i see you in my casino ever again."he shook his finger at the other man, "they'll never find you."

both men looked to you and your ex fiance tried to say something, but the boss' voice cut through, "oiseau, close the door. i will be with you in a moment."

you swallowed, you really didn't have options now did you? you closed the door and sat in the back quietly. you shook a little, but exhaled deeply to compose yourself.

you looked to the boss' bodyguard in the front seat. you asked, "does he do this a lot? like, take women as payment."

the bodyguard rolled down the window to exhale his cigarette smoke, "no. usually he just kills them after a while." the man's accent was dutch and he appeared like he had seen this a million times, "if you're worry about him selling you, he won't. you're a little too old for the market."

"seriously!!" you exclaimed.

the bodyguard laughed, "i'm joking. i'm joking! he doesn't work in that field. you're fine. the agreement was your hand in marriage. he can't very well marry you if you're sold off somewhere."

you rested back in the seat, you curled the jacket closer around your shoulders and sighed, "this is insane. this has to be a dream. how did he even know what i looked like? i could've been... hideous!"

the bodyguard flicked the cigarette out the window and shifted in his seat, "oh... you don't know."

you tensed, "what don't i know, mister bodyguard?" as if tonight hadn't rattled you enough.

he looked over his shoulder, those blue eyes of his looked haunting in the low light of the parking lot. he reeked of cigarettes and cologne as he replied, "your fiance a few nights ago showed my boss, me and another gentleman nude photos of you. i could see why my boss and the other man were so willing to jump at the chance to have you all to themselves. honestly, you got the better option. charles is a good man. you were a gamble worth taking in his eyes.

your heart sank, the man you had been with for close to five years had paraded around your nudes to a bunch of mafia strangers? you thought your eyes were going to bug out of your head.

"how many photos?" as if that would make a difference.

the bodyguard shrugged, "i'd say about five, six? it was hard to look away in all honesty. he was also very drunk when he said that you were a fool for letting this go on for so long."

"oh... okay."

you had enough. you opened the door and found the boss still beating the shit out of your fiance. you stepped out with the jacket on your shoulders and his gloves in your hand. you walked towards them.

after everything you gave up to be with him, everything you let be stolen from under your nose. he had the audacity to parade your naked images around like you were some kind of whore. tears stung your eyes once more.

the boss was breathing heavily and your ex-fiance's face was almost unrecognizable. you placed a hand on the boss' shoulder and your words pierced through the cloudiness of his mind.

"honey." you said, you leaned forward to the man and said, "i don't think you should mess up your hands too much. these gloves look expensive and i'd hate for you to get blood all over them." you showed the gloves to the boss.

he looked over to you and the corner of his mouth turned upwards. he pulled away from your fiance, and carefully curled your hand around the gloves, "well then, why don't you take care of them until my hands are healed."

you trembled, he was quite scary up close. you held your voice as you said, "well, then maybe you should stop punching garbage. i'm assuming you have a home to show me, now?"

the boss fully smiled as he gravitated closer to you. away from the other man. he draped an arm over your shoulders and guided you back to the car, "of course, of course." as you walked back, he looked over his shoulder as your ex-fiance and then spat on the ground away from you. your ex fiance better get out of the country fast, or else charles would stick to his word.

back in the car, he draped an arm around you and looked into your eyes. his smile for you held as he said, "you really are something. may i kiss you?"

you felt heat crawl into your face, "you punched the shit out of my fiance and now you want to kiss me?"

he replied, "he wasn't much of a fiance now was he? sold you away like he did all of your valuables. like that necklace."

"he told you about it?"

charles nodded, "all about it. how much it meant to you. how much value was in it. every little detail about the thing. it was honestly so touching that i couldn't bring myself to sell it. now, why don't we go home? i'll give it back to its rightful owner." he moved closer to you, "think of it as a wedding gift. to the future mrs. leclerc."

you licked your lips and said, "you won't take it away?"

he shook his head, "no, no. even if we get a divorce, you have my word that you'll walk away with the necklace. i believe family is important and heirlooms should be kept and not sold away."

you swallowed, "alright then, mister leclec. you may kiss me."

he chuckled and broke out into a boyish grin, "your little fiance wasted such potential." he moved hair out of your eyes, "but don't worry, oiseau, you'll spread your wings and go to new heights with me." then kissed you gently on the lips.

and then into the night, you left your old life behind. thoughts of your ex fiance were pushed into the back of your mind as charles buckled you into the seat and kissed you on the forehead with such a tenderness that it was hard to believe both of his knuckles were covered in blood and bruised. <3

tbc?

[cak3art]

Welcome back babes

This idea was sparked after replaying death center and listening to Ellis talking about Jimmy Gibbs jr. and his stock car

Long story short, take Ellis as a Motorsports driver

[soleilpinto]

Hexes and Heartbeats (Ollie Bearman) ִ🪄 ࣪𖤐ִ ࣪

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bearman,”🔮 〜 ⁺ ̥ ＊

Synopsis: Y/N Browning, Slytherin’s top student, and Ollie Bearman, Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain, have always clashed. But when McGonagall pairs them up for a project, their rivalry turns into something unexpected. As they spend more time together, Y/N learns that letting someone in might not be so bad after all.

Genre: Slowburn, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers

AU: Hogwarts!au

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Fem!Reader

Warnings: If being an asshole is a warning I’m putting that in.

Note: To be completely honest this was a random idea that came up because I was looking for F1 x Harry Potter fics and couldn’t find any, so I made my own? Anyways, I hope you guys nerd out to this because I miss the Hogwarts rabbit hole I used to go through in 2020. As always, don’t forget to like + reblog if you enjoyed!

The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as the Gryffindor Quidditch team entered for dinner, their victorious faces beaming from yet another win.

You couldn’t stop the sneer that tugged at your lips when your eyes landed on Ollie Bearman, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain.

Of course, he was the first to stand up and wave at the crowd, soaking in their adoration like a smug, self-satisfied lion.

Ollie Bearman. The perfect Gryffindor.

Everything about him annoyed you—from his flawless posture to the way he casually tossed his messy brown hair as though it were some kind of trademark move.

He wasn’t just a Quidditch captain, he was the golden boy, the darling of every Gryffindor. His confidence was unshakable, and it rubbed you the wrong way more than you cared to admit.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your dinner, not sparing him another glance. But it wasn’t enough to escape the sound of his laughter as he shared a joke with his teammates, their boisterous voices filling the room.

You hated it.

You hated how effortlessly he commanded attention, how everyone just adored him for no reason other than the fact that he was a Gryffindor. You hated how he walked around like he owned the place.

That was when your friend, Isla, nudged you.

"He's looking at you," she whispered with a mischievous grin.

You narrowed your eyes, knowing exactly who she meant.

Ollie Bearman, no doubt enjoying the fact that you were sitting there fuming over his mere existence.

You didn’t even have to look up—he was probably grinning that cocky grin of his.

“I don’t care,” you muttered, stabbing your fork into your food. “He’s just some Quidditch-obsessed Gryffindor who thinks the world revolves around him.”

“Careful, Y/n," Isla teased, her tone mocking. "You wouldn't want to lose your cool in front of the Quidditch King."

You scoffed, too irritated to respond. Ollie Bearman had somehow managed to turn Quidditch into his entire identity.

He had that perfect, shiny Gryffindor arrogance—an arrogance that made you sick.

Later that evening, you found yourself at the Three Broomsticks with a few friends, attempting to unwind after a long week of academic stress.

You hadn’t expected to see him here. But of course, Ollie Bearman and his teammates stormed in, laughing and talking too loudly for your liking.

They sat at a table near yours, and you had no choice but to overhear the conversation. Ollie’s voice carried through the air, boasting about his latest victory.

“You should’ve seen the look on their faces,” Ollie said, grinning ear to ear. “We were unbeatable today. Another win for Gryffindor!”

The table around him laughed, and your irritation bubbled over. You couldn’t take it anymore.

"Must be nice, winning at a game that involves no real strategy," you called out, your voice cutting through the room.

Isla shot you a look of warning, but it was too late. The challenge had been thrown down.

Ollie’s gaze shifted to you, that familiar, infuriating smirk spreading across his face.

“Well, if it isn’t the Slytherin genius,” he drawled, his voice dripping with that all-too-familiar arrogance. “What’s the matter, couldn’t handle being in second place in the academic race?”

A flare of heat rose to your cheeks, but you didn’t back down.

“At least I don’t think winning a game with a broom makes me important,” you retorted, leaning back in your chair with a challenge in your eyes.

“Perhaps if you spent a little more time in the library and less time with your broomstick, you’d understand how real success works.”

A few of his teammates snickered, but Ollie didn’t miss a beat. He stood up, crossing the room toward you with a confident swagger.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure books are very important in your world,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned casually against your table.

“But in the real world, we have to do things to prove our worth. Not just sit around and read about them.”

You clenched your jaw, your eyes narrowing. “I’d rather be doing something productive than pretending a game about flying on a stick matters. You’d never understand the importance of intellect, Bearman.”

His eyes flashed with amusement, but there was something else there too—something you couldn’t quite place.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we, Browning?”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of sharp words, unspoken challenges, and ever-present tension between you and Ollie.

The rivalry was no longer just about House pride—it had become personal, a battle between two personalities that seemed destined to clash.

The days after the confrontation at the Three Broomsticks felt like a storm was brewing. Every time you crossed paths with Ollie Bearman, that same, infuriating smirk was plastered on his face.

As if you hadn’t already made it clear you couldn’t stand his presence.

You tried your best to ignore him, to focus on your studies and maintaining your position as the top student of your year. But every time you heard his laugh or saw his arrogant grin, the heat of frustration flared up again.

It was a cold afternoon when you found yourself once again in a situation where you had no choice but to deal with Ollie.

Professor McGonagall had just announced that the students of your year were being assigned to work together for an extra-credit project on magical creatures.

The task? Track down and document a rare and dangerous magical beast deep in the Forbidden Forest. The catch? Every pair had to be carefully chosen by the professors—and, of course, in their infinite wisdom, McGonagall had paired you with none other than Ollie Bearman.

You had tried to argue, but McGonagall had simply raised an eyebrow and told you, “This will help you learn how to work with someone outside your usual circle, Miss Browning.”

You had to bite back the sarcastic remark that was already forming on your tongue.

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to work with someone you didn’t like, but it was the first time you’d been forced into a group with Ollie.

When you met him at the edge of the Forbidden Forest the next morning, he was already waiting, leaning casually against a tree, looking like he had absolutely no concerns in the world.

His Gryffindor confidence was on full display, and you could already feel the annoyance bubbling in your stomach.

"Finally decided to show up, Browning?" he teased, pushing off from the tree and smiling like he knew he had won some small victory just by getting there first.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bearman,” you snapped back, brushing past him without making eye contact. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He smirked, but for once, it wasn’t filled with that usual arrogance. There was something else in his eyes—something more playful, like he was daring you to rise to the challenge.

“I’m just here for the creature,” he said, “but I have to admit, working with you might make this a little more interesting.”

You turned to face him, glaring. “Let’s just get one thing clear. If you get in my way, Bearman, I will leave you here. I don’t need some Quidditch-obsessed Gryffindor to get this job done.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your defiance.

“You sure about that? I seem to recall your strategy didn’t go so well in the last encounter with a magical creature. Maybe you could use my help after all.”

Your teeth clenched. You remembered that disastrous incident in the classroom last week when Ollie had pointed out, in front of the whole class, that your spell had backfired, causing your potion to explode. He had never let you forget it, using it as ammunition in every argument ever since.

“You really are full of yourself,” you muttered under your breath, but Ollie seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons.

“Only because I know I’m better than you,” he shot back, his grin widening as you shot him a glare.

With no other choice, you set off into the woods, Ollie following closely behind, still full of his usual swagger.

As you ventured deeper into the forest, the atmosphere grew more oppressive, the shadows from the tall trees stretching across the path, thickening with every step.

You could hear the distant rustling of magical creatures in the underbrush, but Ollie seemed oblivious, happily whistling as though he was on a leisurely walk in the park.

“Stay focused,” you snapped, reaching for your wand. “This isn’t a game, Ollie.”

He finally stopped whistling, giving you a mock salute. “Aye, captain.”

You bit back a retort, knowing that any attempt to argue would only fuel his insufferable attitude. But despite your frustration, there was a small part of you that begrudgingly admired how easily he navigated the forest.

It was clear he had an innate sense of bravery, charging forward with little fear of the dangers lurking behind every tree.

Suddenly, a rustling sound interrupted your thoughts. You immediately raised your wand, ready for whatever creature might appear. But Ollie’s reaction was even quicker.

He darted ahead, using his quick reflexes to grab something darting out of the brush before you could cast a spell.

In a fluid motion, he captured a small, silver-winged creature in his hand, holding it out to you with a grin.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You blinked, stunned for a moment.

The creature he held was delicate, shimmering with magical energy. It was a rare species you had studied in class, but had never seen in person.

For a brief moment, you felt something other than annoyance toward Ollie. He had done something impressive. Something that actually required skill.

It wasn’t enough to erase all the bitterness you felt toward him, but it was a crack in the armor of your dislike.

“You’re not as useless as I thought,” you muttered, lowering your wand, though your tone was still clipped.

Ollie gave a soft laugh. “I can be more than just a Quidditch captain, you know. I do have a bit of brain in this head.”

You shot him a skeptical glance, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Don’t get cocky, Bearman. We still have a long way to go.”

The journey continued with more shared silences and subtle exchanges of respect. Neither of you was willing to admit it, but something was shifting—an uneasy truce beginning to form as you ventured deeper into the forest, side by side.

As the day stretched on, and the deeper you and Ollie ventured into the Forbidden Forest, the more you realized just how much you were beginning to notice him.

Every sharp turn he made, every instinctual move to keep you safe—whether it was spotting a dangerous creature or grabbing your arm to pull you out of harm’s way—you couldn’t deny that there was more to Ollie Bearman than the smug Gryffindor captain you had loathed for years.

It made you uncomfortable, to be honest. You had built an entire narrative in your head about who Ollie was: arrogant, reckless, and obsessed with Quidditch.

But seeing him here, out in the wild, working as a team with you—granted, begrudgingly—you realized that you hadn’t really seen him at all.

“So,” Ollie began, breaking the silence, “what do you actually think of Quidditch, then? I know you think it’s pointless, but I’m curious. If you were the captain, what would you change?”

You turned to look at him, surprised at the question. It wasn’t like Ollie to ask about your opinion unless it involved him somehow proving he was better than you.

Still, you could see a shift in the way he looked at you—a more curious, thoughtful gaze.

“I think Quidditch is just a distraction,” you said, your voice guarded.

“It’s just... a game. People treat it like it’s the most important thing in the world, but at the end of the day, it’s just about winning and losing. There’s no real value in it beyond that.”

Ollie’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t seem angry. Instead, there was a spark of interest in his expression.

“So you think there’s no skill involved? That I’m just some distracted player?”

“No,” you corrected quickly, shaking your head.

“I didn’t say that. There’s skill, of course, but I don’t think it’s worth putting everything into. There’s more to life than flying on a broomstick and chasing a ball around.”

Ollie stopped walking, and for a moment, he was silent, almost as if he was processing your words.

You glanced over your shoulder, but his eyes were fixed on the ground, a thoughtful expression on his face.

The forest felt strangely still around you, the usual rustling of leaves replaced by the weight of the moment.

“You know,” Ollie finally said, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “sometimes I think you’re a little bit too serious for your own good. But I get it. You’re a Slytherin. You’re supposed to think everything else is beneath you.”

You bristled at his words. “I don’t think anything is beneath me. I just know what I want, and I don’t waste time on things that won’t get me anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your defensiveness. “Is that why you’re so... intense? So determined to always be the best at everything?”

The question hit a little too close to home.

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Ollie chuckled, that easy, carefree laugh that always seemed to get under your skin.

“Fine, fine. But you know, if you ever decided to relax a little... maybe you’d see there’s more to life than books and grades.”

You shot him a sharp look. “And maybe if you focused on something other than Quidditch, you’d realize there’s more to the world than winning games.”

Ollie’s smile faltered just a bit, but it was enough for you to notice. He took a deep breath, eyes scanning the forest around you, and then gave you a sideways glance.

“Well, I guess we’re both just trying to prove we’re right about something,” he said softly, his tone a little less playful than before.

“Maybe that’s what makes us so similar.”

You blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, still walking, but there was an odd sense of understanding in the way he held himself now.

“We both care too much about proving ourselves. You do it with your studies, I do it with Quidditch. We both put so much into what we’re passionate about... maybe that’s why we clash so much.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Part of you wanted to argue, to maintain the rivalry that had always defined your relationship, but another part of you—the part that had seen Ollie’s vulnerability for the first time—wanted to admit that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

Before you could say anything, a loud, eerie screech echoed from deeper within the forest.

The sound was enough to make your heart skip a beat, and Ollie’s expression shifted instantly into something more serious, more focused.

“That’s our cue,” he said, his voice now all business. “Stay close. It sounds like the creature we’re after.”

The next few hours passed in a blur of action. You and Ollie worked seamlessly together, your skills complementing each other in ways you hadn’t expected.

He was quick on his feet, fearless in the face of danger, while you used your knowledge of magical creatures to help guide your strategy.

There was a trust that had developed between you during the hunt, one that neither of you would acknowledge aloud, but it was there all the same.

When you finally managed to capture the rare creature and return to the castle, both of you were exhausted but victorious.

It was a rare moment of quiet between the two of you, standing just outside the entrance to the Forbidden Forest, the last of the evening light filtering through the trees.

Ollie turned to you, his gaze softer than you were used to. “Not bad, Browning. You might not be as insufferable as I thought.”

You smirked, still unwilling to admit how much you had come to respect him.

“You were all right too, Bearman. For a Gryffindor.”

He chuckled, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “Guess you’ll just have to keep finding out how much more all right I can be.”

Your heart skipped in spite of yourself. It was infuriating, how easily Ollie seemed to get under your skin now.

You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the strange warmth in his voice, but something had shifted between the two of you.

And for the first time, you found yourself wondering—just for a second—if there was more to Ollie Bearman than just a Quidditch captain.

It had been a week since the Forbidden Forest trip, and the dynamic between you and Ollie had changed in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

While you were still far from friends, there was an undeniable shift. The tension that had once been a sharp, uncomfortable friction had softened into something that, though still fiery, was less about animosity and more about... understanding.

You found yourself meeting Ollie’s gaze more often than you cared to admit, and not in the usual confrontational way.

It was as if there was a silent acknowledgment between the two of you—the rivalry was still there, but it was starting to feel more like a game than a battle. And while you hated to admit it, you found yourself appreciating his quick reflexes, his unwavering determination.

He was more than just a Quidditch captain. He was actually... smart. Annoyingly smart.

But your thoughts were interrupted when Isla, your closest friend, cornered you in the library one afternoon, her eyes gleaming with the kind of curiosity you knew all too well.

"So," she began, a mischievous smile spreading across her face, "I’ve noticed something."

You looked up from your textbook, already feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "What are you talking about?"

"Don’t play coy with me," Isla teased, leaning in conspiratorially. "You and Ollie Bearman. Something’s... happening, isn’t it?"

You froze, the quill in your hand suddenly still. "What? No. I—" You stammered, trying to find an excuse.

"He’s just—he’s a Gryffindor. We’re working on a project together. That’s it."

Isla raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Sure. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other during dinner. You can cut the tension with a knife."

You leaned back in your chair, trying to collect yourself. "Isla, you’re imagining things. There’s nothing happening between us."

“Nothing, huh?” Isla’s grin widened, and she sat down beside you. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re not exactly hating him as much as you used to.”

You glanced around the library nervously. What if someone overheard? What if Ollie had been talking about the trip? What if your friends noticed the shift in your dynamic?

"Fine," you muttered, a bit too defensively. "Maybe he’s... not as bad as I thought."

Isla’s eyes lit up, and she leaned in even closer. "Ah, so there is something going on. I knew it!"

You scowled, pushing your book aside. "There’s nothing going on," you repeated firmly, though your tone lacked the conviction you had hoped for.

Before she could push any further, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind you.

You turned just in time to see Ollie himself walking through the library doors, his usual grin plastered across his face as he waved at you.

“Hey, Browning,” he called out in his typical teasing tone, strolling up to your table. “You surviving this mind-numbing assignment?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It had only been a few minutes since you had been talking about him with Isla, and now here he was, acting like everything was perfectly normal.

You glared at him, but there was a strange warmth behind your annoyance.

“I was,” you said coolly, “until you interrupted me. What do you want?”

Ollie smirked, completely oblivious to your inner turmoil.

“Just thought I’d remind you that we’re meeting for the next part of our project later. Don’t forget. You know, it’s important to show up on time if you want to get the extra credit.”

You rolled your eyes, but something in his tone made you want to snap back with a witty retort.

"I won’t forget, Bearman. I’m not the one who’s too busy playing Quidditch to focus on anything else."

Ollie chuckled, clearly amused, and winked at you before turning to leave. "See you later, Browning. Try not to fall asleep on me, yeah?"

As soon as he was out of earshot, Isla grinned at you like a Cheshire cat. "Oh, it’s definitely happening."

You groaned and dropped your head onto your arms. “Can’t you just drop it already?”

Isla just laughed, her voice barely a whisper.

“I know you better than anyone, and something’s definitely changed. The way you two talk to each other? It’s not the same as before. Trust me, you’re not fooling anyone.”

The rest of the week seemed to drag on. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Ollie was always just a little too close—whether it was in the library, during classes, or even in the hallways after dinner.

It was as if your interactions with him were becoming less about the rivalry and more about something else entirely. Something confusing and... undeniably thrilling.

Then came the day when everything started to unravel.

You were heading to the Quidditch pitch with Isla after lunch when you ran into a couple of Ollie’s teammates, and much to your surprise, they didn’t give you the usual hostile treatment they reserved for Slytherins. Instead, they greeted you with an odd mixture of curiosity and amusement.

“Hey, Y/N,” one of them, Emma, said with a smile. “How’s the project going with Ollie? We’ve been hearing rumors that you two are getting along better than expected.”

You froze, unsure how to respond. Rumors?

“Yeah,” another teammate, Alex, chimed in. “It’s kind of hard to ignore how you two have been looking at each other lately. You two might actually make a decent team after all.”

Before you could stop yourself, your face flushed bright red, and Isla’s snicker didn’t help.

“What exactly are you all implying?” you demanded, though your voice trembled slightly.

Emma raised her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, no need to bite our heads off. We’re just saying, you two don’t hate each other as much as you used to. You’re practically friends now. Or whatever this is.”

You couldn’t meet their eyes as you quickly excused yourself, your mind racing with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment.

Were people really starting to notice? Were you actually starting to... like Ollie Bearman?

Isla shot you a knowing look as you walked away, and you knew you couldn’t hide the truth from her—or yourself—any longer.

The days after the encounter with Ollie’s teammates were a blur. It felt like everyone in school had caught wind of the fact that you and Ollie were spending more time together.

Even though it wasn’t true that you two were “friends,” it was starting to feel like something was changing.

The constant teasing from Isla and your classmates was starting to wear on you, but what bothered you the most was how often Ollie seemed to pop into your thoughts when you weren’t expecting it.

You could handle Isla’s teasing. She was your friend, after all. But it was Ollie’s subtle hints, the small gestures that seemed almost too thoughtful, that kept you off-balance.

Like when he saved you a seat at the Gryffindor table during dinner because your houses table was full or when he offered you his notes after class, claiming he had taken "extra care" to write neatly because he knew you’d appreciate it.

But you didn’t need to think about it. You had a reputation to maintain, and Ollie Bearman wasn’t someone you needed to be distracted by.

Still, every time you crossed paths with him, you couldn’t help but feel that strange flutter in your chest.

One evening, as the hectic exam season drew to a close, you found yourself walking down the hall toward the Slytherin dungeons, your mind occupied with thoughts of an upcoming project.

You hadn’t expected to run into Ollie that night. The hallways were unusually quiet, the only sound being the faint echo of footsteps on stone. But then you saw him.

Ollie was leaning against the wall just outside the entrance of your common room, his eyes scanning the hall with a kind of distracted look.

When he noticed you, though, his face lit up, and that familiar grin appeared.

“Y/N,” he greeted casually, though there was something different in the way he said your name this time. More familiar, less teasing.

You paused for a second, almost instinctively pushing your hair behind your ear. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” he replied without skipping a beat, his tone light but his eyes earnest.

“I was hoping we could talk.” You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “Talk? About what?”

“About... us, I guess,” Ollie said, shifting slightly as though trying to find the right words.

“You’ve been avoiding me lately despite us being partners, and I get it. We’re not exactly the best of friends, but... well, I’m starting to think there’s something here.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Something here? What are you talking about?”

Ollie pushed off the wall and took a step closer. You felt your pulse quicken, but you weren’t sure if it was from irritation or something else entirely.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he continued, the words spilling out more earnestly now.

“For the longest time, I thought you were just some Slytherin who hated everything I stood for—Quidditch, Gryffindor pride, all of it. But recently, I’ve started to see... I’ve started to see you differently.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Your mind raced. See you differently? What did that mean?

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Ollie continued, his gaze not leaving yours.

“How we’ve spent all this time bickering, but when it comes down to it, you’re actually—” he paused, searching for the words “—you’re actually kind of incredible. You’re clever, driven, and... I don’t know, I can’t stop thinking about how you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

You could feel your heart beating in your throat, but you weren’t ready to admit anything.

Not yet. Not with Ollie Bearman, of all people.

“You’re just saying that because you think I’ll help you pass the next exam, right?” you tried, your voice betraying more uncertainty than you wanted.

But Ollie shook his head, his expression serious now, and you could see the honesty in his eyes.

“No, that’s not it. This is... this is me. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I realized that I like being around you. I’m not saying it’s easy, but I think I’ve started to care about you in a way I didn’t expect.”

Your chest tightened. “Ollie...”

“I don’t know what this is, Y/N,” Ollie said, running a hand through his hair. “I just... I don’t want to pretend it’s not there anymore. I’m tired of pretending you’re just some annoying Slytherin I have to tolerate.”

You blinked, caught in the weight of his words. It felt like your world had shifted under your feet.

You had spent so much time hating him, convincing yourself that nothing could ever come of your rivalry. But now, standing in front of him, you realized how much of that was self-preservation.

How much of it was denial.

“Are you... saying what I think you’re saying?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ollie stepped closer, his voice low. “I don’t know what you think I’m saying, but I think I’m saying that I want to find out what could happen between us. If you’re willing to take the chance.”

The hallway felt suddenly smaller, the walls closing in on you as your thoughts collided with each other.

You wanted to resist. You wanted to shout at him and remind him that nothing could ever happen between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. That your lives had always been dictated by competition, by rivalry.

But as you looked into Ollie’s eyes, the one thing that was undeniable was how real the emotion was in his gaze. How much he meant it.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence.

“I am,” he said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension hung heavy between you, neither of you daring to break the silence, yet somehow it felt like everything was finally coming into focus.

You took a deep breath, swallowing the uncertainty. Maybe it was time to let go of all the reasons you had built up to keep him at arm’s length. Maybe there was something worth exploring here after all.

“Alright,” you said finally, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart. “I’m willing to see where this goes. But you have to understand something, Ollie. I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

Ollie grinned, his playful side creeping back into his expression. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You took another breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle on your shoulders. But for the first time in weeks, you felt a strange sense of anticipation, a spark of something that had been there all along but was only now beginning to surface.

Something had shifted since Ollie’s confession, and while nothing had officially been said about your “status,” there was a new air of familiarity between you.

He no longer teased you with the same sharp edges, and his glances felt warmer, less challenging.

You couldn’t deny it: there was something comforting about the way he had started treating you—not like an opponent, but like someone he genuinely cared about.

Still, the adjustment wasn’t easy for you.

Slytherins weren’t exactly known for public displays of affection, and Gryffindors like Ollie seemed to have no problem making their intentions known to the entire school.

Which was why, when Ollie showed up outside your Potions class one afternoon, leaning casually against the wall in his Quidditch robes, you nearly froze in your tracks.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed, keeping your voice low as your classmates filtered out of the classroom, all of them throwing curious looks your way.

Isla, walking beside you, stifled a laugh behind her hand.

“Waiting for you, obviously,” Ollie said with that signature grin of his. “I thought we could walk to lunch together.”

You glanced around nervously, painfully aware of how many eyes were on you.

“Ollie, this is a Slytherin corridor. You’re not exactly... welcome, here.”

“Good thing I’m not afraid of Slytherins,” he replied breezily. “Come on, Y/N, it’s just lunch.”

Isla shot you a knowing look. “Oh, I don’t mind. This is fascinating. Please, by all means, walk her to lunch, Gryffindor hero.”

You shot her a glare before turning back to Ollie. “Fine. But don’t expect this to become a habit.”

Ollie’s grin widened. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the two of you walked side by side through the bustling hallways, the whispers were impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t every day that the Gryffindor Quidditch captain was seen escorting the top Slytherin student through the castle.

You could feel your face heat up with every passing glance.

By the time you reached the Great Hall, you were ready to sprint to your table just to escape the scrutiny. But Ollie, completely unbothered, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Relax, Y/N,” he said softly. “They’ll get over it.”

“You don’t get it,” you muttered, your voice barely audible. “People are going to talk. They’ll think I’ve gone soft. I’m not used to... this.”

Ollie stopped walking, turning to face you. His hazel eyes were calm, steady.

“Hey,” he said, his tone gentle. “I know this is new. I know it’s not easy for you. But you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not to your friends, not to your house, not to me. Just... be yourself. That’s all I want.”

You hesitated, his words sinking in. For someone so brash and confident, he had a way of making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected. Slowly, you nodded.

“Alright. But if anyone asks, I’m still your rival.”

Ollie chuckled. “Deal.”

At that moment, a familiar voice interrupted. “What’s this?”

You turned to see Arvid Lindblad and Kimi Antonelli approaching, both wearing amused expressions.

Arvid, a Hufflepuff with a mischievous streak, crossed his arms. “Bearman, are you seriously ditching us for your Slytherin rival?”

Kimi, a Ravenclaw whose sharp mind matched his dry sense of humor, raised an eyebrow. “This is... unexpected.”

Ollie grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders with zero hesitation. “What can I say? She’s growing on me.”

You immediately ducked out from under his arm, your face burning. “Don’t push it, Bearman.”

Arvid burst out laughing. “Oh, this is great. I can’t wait to tell the rest of the team.”

“Don’t you dare,” Ollie warned, though he was still smiling.

From the Slytherin table, your friends, Isla and Hayley watched the scene unfold, their faces split into identical grins.

“You owe me five Galleons,” Hayley said smugly.

Isla groaned, fishing the coins out of her pocket. “Fine, but I still say she’s going to hex him eventually.”

By the time you and Ollie reached the Gryffindor table, you were convinced that everyone in the castle had seen you together. But as Ollie sat down beside you, his easy confidence never faltering, you realized something: you didn’t mind as much as you thought you would.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

After a few months of seeing Ollie, the day of the highly anticipated Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match arrived, and the castle buzzed with excitement.

The rivalry between the houses was infamous, and the stands were packed with students decked out in their respective house colors.

Green and silver banners clashed with scarlet and gold as chants echoed through the stadium.

You sat in the Slytherin stands, arms crossed, trying to ignore the pang of nerves bubbling in your chest.

Isla nudged you, smirking. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re rooting for Gryffindor today.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snapped, though your eyes couldn’t help but wander to the field where Ollie was leading his team through warm-ups. His movements were precise, commanding, and frustratingly confident.

Focus, you told yourself. He’s your rival, and Gryffindor needs to lose.

As Madam Hooch blew the whistle, the match began in a frenzy of motion.

The Gryffindor Chasers darted through the air, their passes quick and seamless, but Slytherin’s Keeper was on form, blocking their shots with ease.

You found yourself gripping the edge of your seat, every play pulling you further into the match.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game that the tension really exploded.

Ollie, playing as Gryffindor’s Seeker, was locked in a tight race with the Slytherin Seeker, each of them diving after the Snitch.

The crowd roared as the two streaked through the sky, narrowly avoiding collisions with the other players.

“Come on, Ollie!” Arvid’s voice carried from the Hufflepuff stands, and you winced despite yourself. Don’t mess this up, you thought.

Then it happened. A Slytherin Beater sent a Bludger hurtling toward Ollie at a dangerous speed.

You watched in horror as he barely managed to dodge, his broom wobbling for a moment before he righted himself. But the distraction was enough—the Slytherin Seeker had gained the upper hand.

“No!” you gasped, earning a smirk from Isla.

“Interesting reaction for someone who’s supposed to be cheering for Slytherin,” she teased.

You scowled, but before you could reply, the Snitch was spotted again. This time, Ollie was faster.

He leaned forward on his broom, the determination on his face clear even from your spot in the stands.

The Slytherin Seeker was close behind, but Ollie’s outstretched hand closed around the Snitch just seconds before they collided.

The stadium erupted in cheers and groans.

Gryffindor had won.

As the teams landed, the Gryffindor players rushed to Ollie, lifting him onto their shoulders in celebration.

You stayed seated, watching as he grinned and held the Snitch aloft. The sight filled you with equal parts annoyance and something you couldn’t quite name.

When the crowd began to disperse, you made your way back toward the castle, hoping to avoid the inevitable gloating. But before you could slip away, a familiar voice called out behind you.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You turned to see Ollie jogging toward you, still in his Quidditch robes and looking infuriatingly triumphant.

“What do you want, Bearman?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“To talk,” he said, falling into step beside you. “You don’t look too happy for someone who just witnessed an incredible game.”

“Why would I be happy? My house lost,” you pointed out, though your tone lacked its usual bite.

Ollie smirked. “Come on, I saw you watching me. You can admit it—I was pretty impressive out there.”

“You were reckless,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes. “That Bludger nearly took you out.”

He shrugged. “Part of the game. Besides, I knew you’d be worried about me.”

“I wasn’t worried about you,” you lied, your cheeks heating up.

Ollie stopped walking, turning to face you with that annoyingly confident smile. “You’re a terrible liar, Y/N.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but his expression softened, and he stepped closer.

“Look, I know this whole... thing between us is new. And I know you’re still figuring it out. But for what it’s worth, having you there today? It meant something. Even if you were secretly hoping I’d lose.”

You hesitated, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.

“I wasn’t hoping you’d lose,” you admitted quietly. “I just... didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face before it melted into a warm smile. “See? You do care.”

“Don’t push it, Bearman,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

Ollie grinned, falling back into step beside you. “Alright, I won’t. For now.”

As the two of you walked toward the castle, the tension of the match faded into the background, replaced by something softer, something that felt almost... natural. And though you wouldn’t admit it out loud, you were starting to think that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind having Ollie Bearman by your side.

Epilogue:

The days when you and Ollie were sworn rivals felt like a lifetime ago, though the memory of your endless bickering still brought a smirk to your face.

Somehow, against all odds, you’d gone from exchanging biting remarks in the hallways to sharing late-night conversations by the fire.

It wasn’t a change you’d ever expected—or even wanted—but it was one you couldn’t imagine undoing.

Your dynamic hadn’t exactly mellowed.

You were still Y/N Browning, Slytherin’s top student, sharp-tongued and fiercely independent. And Ollie was still Ollie Bearman, Gryffindor’s golden boy with that infuriatingly confident grin.

The difference now was that the teasing carried a warmth it never had before, and the rivalry had softened into something that only strengthened your bond.

Take today, for example.

The castle was buzzing with activity as students bustled through the corridors, preparing for their final exams.

You were perched at a table in the library, surrounded by stacks of books and meticulously written notes.

The air smelled faintly of parchment and ink, a comforting sort of chaos that you thrived in.

“Still studying?” Ollie’s voice broke through the quiet, his tone laced with mock exasperation.

You glanced up to see him leaning against a nearby bookshelf, his Gryffindor scarf askew and his hair as messy as ever.

“What does it look like, Bearman?” you quipped, returning your attention to your notes. “Not all of us can wing it and still pass.”

“Hey, I don’t wing it,” he said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from you. “I’m just naturally brilliant.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re naturally lucky, which is not the same thing.”

“And you’re naturally stubborn,” he countered, reaching across the table to pluck one of your notes from the pile. “Come on, Y/N. Take a break. You’ve been at this for hours.”

“I can’t afford to take a break,” you said firmly, snatching the note back. “Unlike you, I have standards to maintain.”

Ollie chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I know. That’s one of the things I like about you. But you’re allowed to breathe, you know. Even Slytherin’s top student can take fifteen minutes to eat a chocolate frog.”

You sighed, finally setting your quill down and meeting his gaze.

His hazel eyes were steady, the teasing light in them replaced with something softer. You hated how easily he could do that—disarm you with a look.

“Fine,” you relented. “Fifteen minutes. But if my grades suffer, I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll take the risk,” he said with a grin, pulling a small package from his bag and sliding it across the table. It was a chocolate frog, just as he’d promised.

You took it reluctantly, your lips twitching upward despite yourself. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he said, resting his chin in his hand as he watched you open the wrapper.

Moments like these had become your new normal. He knew when to push and when to step back, and you were learning to let your guard down—at least for him.

You were still fiercely independent, still determined to prove yourself to the world. But with Ollie, you didn’t feel the need to constantly defend your place.

He saw you, respected you, and never tried to change you.

It wasn’t always easy. There were still moments when you snapped at him or bristled at his easygoing nature, and there were times when his relentless optimism made you want to scream. But somehow, those differences only made your connection stronger.

He challenged you in a way no one else could, and you liked to think you kept him grounded.

Your friends had grown used to the sight of you two together, though the teasing hadn’t stopped.

Isla called him your “Gryffindor puppy,” and Arvid had taken to mimicking Ollie’s voice whenever you defended him.

Even Kimi, with his usual deadpan humor, had joked about how the universe might implode from the sheer improbability of your relationship.

But you didn’t mind. Because at the end of the day, when the library emptied and the castle grew quiet, it was Ollie who walked you back to the Slytherin common room.

It was Ollie who stayed up with you during late-night study sessions, bringing snacks and pretending to care about your advanced Arithmancy notes.

It was Ollie who, somehow, had become the one person you didn’t mind letting in. And as you sat across from him now, watching him steal one of your notes and grin when you scolded him, you realized something important.

You hadn’t changed for Ollie Bearman. You were still yourself—strong, driven, and fiercely Slytherin.

But you had softened for him, in a way that felt like growing rather than shrinking. And for once, you didn’t mind letting someone see the cracks in your armor.

“Alright, Bearman,” you said, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. “You win. I’ll take a break.”

Ollie’s grin widened. “Finally. I thought I’d have to resort to drastic measures.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned, though your voice was lighter now.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his gaze warm.

And just like that, the world felt a little brighter.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[jpnriikicore]

── oh, my good looking boy

paring paul aron x fem!reader, word count 596, genre fluff, ( masterlist )

the morning sun peeked through the sheer curtains casting an angelic haze in your shared hotel room. the mishaps of forgetting that the balcony door is open letting the curtains dance in the light breeze. children’s laughter as they kick around a ball in a fun-hearted game just across the street.

hair sprawled across the pillowcase. your elbow digging into the plush mattress underneath you propping yourself up. you took the chance to admire your boyfriend something that you don’t get the chance to do often. normally, either you're rushing or he’s rushing not getting a mellow moment. even at times, the other side of the bed is empty and cold when you don’t share hotel rooms or he doesn’t sneak into your hotel room late at night. usually, in the paddock, it’s fleeting glances and very minimal grazes. by this point, you’ve memorized every single part of his features even with the short amount of time that you have to do so.

he lays on his back with his arms underneath his pillow. his blond hair unruly and disheveled. he gained the new nickname "blondie" after a few dates and refuses to reference him as another thing else. your nail lightly grazing on his skin connecting the light freckles that scattered across his back.

you raised your body sitting on the edge of the bed. your fingers fiddling with the buttons to slowly unbutton his shirt that you wore to bed last night to discard to take a shower and get ready for your spontaneous plans.

behind you, the blond shifts underneath the sheets. a frown appears on his lips as he feels disappointed that you're not cuddled up right beside him. normally, when he wakes up your pressed right against him almost entirely on top of him even though you’ve fallen asleep on your respectful side on the bed. his eyes fluttered open attempting to adjust to the sunlight beaming in. though he couldn’t see your face. he is only visible to your unruly hair and his oversized shirt slipping off your shoulders he found you incredibly pretty.

his gaze held so much love and fondness that it would terrify someone who wasn’t sure that he was the one but to you. you knew he was one when they first met eight years ago whilst karting around italy that he was the one that you wanted to marry. now, you never put any thought into your perfect wedding until the first time you saw him smile with sun-kissed skin and rosy cheeks.

you aren’t fond of the tan lines on your arms and thighs, but he was. you got offered a solution by him yesterday morning of just basking in the sun naked on the balcony, but you talked yourself out of that. you always sweet-talked yourself out of situations. you were particularly good at that and though it was quite annoying at times. it’s a quality that he loves.

oh, how he missed so dearly how your freckles adorned your sun-kissed skin that scattered across your slight reddened cheeks due to spending time on the boat more recently during his short period of a break. he missed adoring them in the colder months.

he lifted on his elbow gently moving your hair to the side to press a kiss on the back of your neck which was already littered with love marks from last night's activities that you had a slim chance of actually covering. he pulled you back into his warm arms and underneath the sheets once again.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2024

[embrosegraves]

𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝔹𝕠𝕪

Paul Aron x Fem!Reader Paul is sometimes shy about asking to touch you. He just wants to make sure he never assumes consent.

Warning: One (1) word in Estonian idk I tried. Mentions (and innocent touching) of boobies *gasp*

1.1k words hihihi

“Kallis?” [Sweetheart?]

You lifted your head from the class notes in front of you to see your boyfriend, Paul, standing at the door of your home office. He looked nervous, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be in the room. 

“Paul? Did you need something?” You hoped that softening your voice would help him not be as nervous. Having been dating for just over half a year, you were quickly becoming aware of some of his ‘tells’. Things like how his nostrils would flare a little if he wanted to laugh but thought it’d be inappropriate. Or how he would be extra nervous when he wanted to ask you something because he didn’t want to worry you with things while you were doing your coursework for uni. 

“I uh, I can come back later if you’re busy. It wasn’t really important.” Paul stammered a little as he answered you. It intrigued you immensely when Paul got shy, because it was such a difference to his very outgoing personality when he’s around his friends and teammates. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong? I promise you’re not disturbing or interrupting me.” You held your hand out towards him, inviting him to walk further into the room. He was careful as he walked towards you, like he didn’t want to disturb the research papers you had on the desk. You stood up as he reached you and lifted a hand to caress his face. 

“What did you need of me, My Love?” You kept your voice soft and your touch gentle. 

Paul lifted a hand and gripped your hand that was cradling his face. “I just- I really missed you.” 

A smile found its way onto your face. You finally realised that he was nervous because he wanted to be around you but didn’t want to distract you from your studies. Gently, you guided him to sit in the chair you were just in. Paul tried to protest that it was your chair and that he could find another one to sit on but you were having none of it. You sat down on his lap and told him that this way you could get some of your work done while still being around him. He settled pretty quickly after that. 

Admittedly it did take you a while to notice that Paul hadn’t moved his arms from the armrests of your chair,. So when you did notice, you were just a little confused. 

“Are you alright Darling?” You asked over your shoulder. 

“Uh huh.” He replied. 

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t moved your arms from the chair once.” You turned as much as you could to look at him face to face. His face was flushed a light pink colour as you twisted around on his lap. 

“I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me to touch you.” 

“Why would you think that?” You watched as his face slowly became more and more red. 

“I don’t think you ever said if you were okay with it and I didn't want to just assume that it would be alright to.” He moved his eyes away from yours. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

Barely stopping yourself from cooing at his adorably red cheeks, you twisted back around and leant back so you were resting on his torso. Grabbing both of his hands, you moved them to hug you around your midriff. Adjusting your head to look at his face, you whispered and peppered kisses to the underside of his jaw. 

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to be uncomfortable when you touch me. You're always so careful and gentle. If anything I want you to touch me more.” 

“But what if I accidentally overstep?” 

“I will tell you. But for now I want you to do something for me.” 

“Anything.” He left a shy, barely-even-there kiss behind your ear. 

“I want you to hold my boobs.” 

Paul was stunned into silence. Had he heard you correctly? You wanted him to do what? 

“You- Me- What?” He couldn’t get the words to exit his mouth. 

“I want you to hold my boobs. For two reasons. One, to prove that I trust you to touch me and be more casually intimate, and two, because believe it or not I actually find it very comforting. However, I need both my hands to finish typing up my class notes, which means I can’t hold them myself.” You placed a kiss on his jawline before sitting up a little so you could finish typing your notes. You felt as Paul also sat up a bit, presumably to keep the contact between your back and his chest. 

Just before you were about to set in and start on finishing your notes, Paul’s hands began playing with the hem of your shirt. 

“Can I lift it Kallis?” He whispered. 

“Of course you can My Love. You can do whatever you need, to make it easier if you’d like.” 

“Thank you.” He said, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck and leaving little feather-light kisses. His hands moved underneath your shirt and shyly travelled up your body before resting briefly at the apex of your breasts. Seeing as you had given him verbal permission, Paul decided he could easier grab hold of your breasts without your bra in the way. 

You hummed in acknowledgement when he mumbled that he was going to unhook the offending item of your clothing, focusing as much as you could on your notes. You knew that as much as the skin on skin contact was comforting for you, it was also incredibly important for Paul because it allowed him to test how far he was willing to go. He could set the pace knowing that if he accidentally took it too far, he could rely on you to tell him when to stop. 

You sat there on his lap for roughly 2 hours, Paul’s chin resting on your shoulder. Every now and then, Paul would give your breasts a gentle squeeze, making sure not to be too harsh. Occasionally, when you finished a paragraph of notes, you would give Paul a peck on the nose, his smile making your own smile grow with each kiss.  

Neither you nor Paul moved once you were done, except to lean a bit further back in the chair to be a little more comfortable. You were far too engrossed with the feeling of each other to even briefly entertain the idea of moving from where you sat. Too wrapped up in the love you had for each other. 

It was Paul who eventually whispered to you, breaking the silence. 

“Can I do this again tomorrow?” 

You huffed out a tiny laugh, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair as best you could. 

“Oh my sweet boy, you don’t even have to ask.”

I call this ✨ divine inspiration ✨

Aka the collective hivemind that is the discord server coming together to give the strength and inspiration to FINALLY advertise just how much I love Paul Aron.

anyways, started writing this at the end of F2 Quali, finished it at the end of F1 Academy Quali. Decided to gift while I was still delirious from lack of sleep (Aussie F1 fan struggles lmao)

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[chanelnumbermine]

too hot to handle | paul aron x fem!reader

summary: the hot italian summer proves challenging for all the wrong reasons. testing your self-control around paul has never been harder

warnings: none, suggestive content.

having been from estonia, a country forming part of the nordic states, one of the colder places in europe, paul treasured every drop of sunlight a day gifted him. he didn't mind getting sunburnt, never complained about the heat and never missed a chance to tease you about your hatred for the sun. so when he offered you a place on his yacht for a cruise around the mediterranean, you were reluctant to accept. paul was an extremely active person, some would say his energy could rival an eager puppy. always swimming, running around the boat to adjust the course, laughing about something with his friends.

you were complete opposites. when he brimmed with excitement to climb a mountain and watch the sunset from the peak, you dreamed of a lazy evening. when he wanted to explore another island, you were craving ice cream to battle the excruciating temperature. he was sunbathing on the boat deck and you were swimming in the sea. it wasn't about your lack of energy or lack of interest in spending quality time with your best friend. it was quite the contrary.

paul had a certain affinity - or lack thereof - for shirts. being a young man confident in his body his outfits consisted of him wearing swimming trunks or short shorts, exposing his muscular chest and strong arms. even the slightest of moves made his muscles flex and he wasn't shy about showing it off. which was fun for him, but considerably less for you. sure, he was a sight for sore eyes. and you couldn't help but stare.

it was wrong, you kept telling yourself. to look at your best friend and think of tracing the tan lines, moving your nails along his muscles, feeling his warm body tensing underneath your touch. to feel his arms tighten around your frame and inhale the scent of his hair, wet from the salty water. to run your hand through his curls, caressing his face, from his cheekbones, to the swollen pouty lips to his strong veiny neck. and, well, with each passing day it was getting harder to control yourself. whereas paul was getting bored of the usual tasks and was increasingly frustrated with your demeanour. the harder you pushed him away, the harder he pulled. and today was the day he has had enough.

you left breakfast early. dressed up in your favourite bikini and dove into the sea. jumping far into the water, the cold enveloping your body, taking away the burning from your skin and the unnecessary thoughts from your head. you dove deeper, treading the waves until you were out of breath. were you running away? maybe. just for a second. usually nobody bothered to disturb your morning swim, but today a tall figure was standing on the edge of the deck, his body corded and a shadow of a smile lingering on his lips. unbeknownst to you, paul was been following your every move.

he dove into the water and quickly caught up with you. pushing through the waves, he swam under your body and reappeared just in front of you. "hey." he said and put his hands on your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. you yelped ans tried to push him away, water in your eyes blinking you, the sudden contact unsettling you. his voice did little to calm you, unleashing a bunch of butterflies in your stomach. but his grip proved too strong. you pushed your knee against his chest, hoping to overpower him. he just moved his palms to your lower back and your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

your voice died in your throat. "hey." you said weakly, as his eyes bore into your skull. lost in the moment, you failed to notice how close your bodies became. his hands almost on your hips, your lips millimetres away from kissing his forehead. your crotch rubbing against the rubber band of his swimming trunks. his head buried in the valley of your breasts. but he was staring right into your eyes.

"you're not easy to get hold of, you know?" he complained, breathless. you wanted to throw your head back, scream, bury your face in his chest. whatever, as long as you wouldn't have to stare into his puppy eyes. you were glad for the water surrounding you, as he couldn't feel how sweaty your hands were becoming and couldn't hear the blood rushing through your veins. so you just swallowed and smiled awkwardly. "what do you mean?" he moved his right hand to the center, the other one now holding your thigh.

he sighed. "really, now!” a wave trashed on to back, the water dripping on his curls and getting in his face. you chuckled and moved it to the side. he murmured a soft thank you and looked up at you again. "just missed you, that's all" he admitted bashfully, which made you to laugh softly. that was paul's charm. not the flirty demeanour nor the confidence when he drove a car. it was moments when his facade cracked and the he laughed innocently. how you loved that laugh. so you did what you weren't supposed to do. you leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.

when you leaned back and saw the shock in his eyes, you panicked. let go of his body and tried to swim away as far as humanly possible. you kicked him softly in the stomach. your cheeks and eyes were burning. the embarrassment being spread through your bloodstream instead of oxygen. god, what the hell was that? you wanted to swim to the bottom of the sea and bury yourself in the sand and never face paul again. you swam with all your might, driven by adrenaline and remaining pride.

the poor blonde barely collected himself, fighting for every breath, struggling to piece together what just happened. and he couldn't. with you out his sight, his hands empty, thoughts rushing through his head. he bit his lip, looking around for the familiar figure. he gasped, finally seeing your head resurfacing meters away. he didn't think twice, he started chasing you again. he was trembling with emotions, his eyes lost. he caught you ankle and wrapped his hands around your frame tightly. you didn't fight back. just laid your head on his shoulder. "im sorry" you whispered.

your breath tickled his neck, he laughed quietly. he tilted his head so it was resting on top of yours. "you scared me, now" paul pressed a small peck into your hair. "can't promise i won't do it again, darling" the nickname made you shiver and you slowly pulled away from him. he pressed his lips together and looked into your eyes, panicked you would get away again. so he did the only thing he could think of looking at your flushed cheeks and watering eyes.

he kissed you. breathless and scared, full of unspoken desires and muted feelings, he kissed you. as if it was the first kiss in his life. this time it was him who pulled away quickly, swallowing his pride and groaning internally. you were shaking. "fuck, im sorry" his voice broke "i don know wha-" he didn't manage to finish the sentence, because your lips crashed into his again. latching onto his lower lip hungrily, your teeth grazing his tongue when he kissed you back, invading your mouth. your hands on the sides of his face, his fingers buried in your hair. your could feel the salt on your tongue, was it the water, your tears? you pulled away when it became hard to breathe.

“i don’t feel sorry at all now”

“neither do i”

masterlist

[37sommz]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | MLIST.

MASTERLIST & UPCOMING WORKS⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀ last updated 04 oct 2024

view:⠀navigation⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

001.⠀⠀MEET MICHAELA SOMMERS⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀about michaela. ✼.⠀social media profiles. ✼.⠀meet the team. ✼.⠀grid dynamics. ✼.⠀meet the family. ✼.⠀more grid dynamics.

002.⠀⠀WRITINGS & REQUESTS⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀pre-formula 1 masterlist. ✼.⠀rookie season masterlist. ✼.⠀2020 season masterlist. ✼.⠀2021 season masterlist. ✼.⠀2022 season masterlist. ✼.⠀2023 season masterlist. ✼.⠀2024 season masterlist.

003.⠀⠀HEADCANONS⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀ms37 x cs55. ✼.⠀ms37 x lh44.

004.⠀⠀TWITTER THUMBS⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀maple-scented: 2024 canadian grand prix recap. ✼.⠀motorsport: 2024 spanish-austrian-british grand prix recap. ✼.⠀hands ii heaven: 2024 summer break recap.

005.⠀⠀DRIVE TO SURVIVE⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✼.⠀season 02, episode 01: australia 2019. ✼.⠀season 03, episode 04: tuscany 2020.

[natailiatulls07]

Can you do part 2 of it’s okay please 🙏

It's okay Pt.2

Arthur Leclerc Charles Leclerc Lorenzo Leclerc Pascale Leclerc & Leclerc!reader

Summary - In order to find her way in life, Y/n Leclerc runs away in the dead of night only leaving a note

Warning - Y/n being very anxious

A/n - You asked so you shall receive lol 😚

People in screenshots above (Not a tag list xx) -

@dreamerrosie @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @alldaysdreamers

-

Eventually Charles managed to lead Y/n to the passenger seat of the ferrari, if the two were seen together the paparazzi would have a field day.

The car journey was silent but comfortable. Every so often Charles would glance over to his sister, taking in her puffy eyes, sniffly nose and tear lines where they ran through her delicate makeup.

He really did miss Y/n. The days, weeks, months and years after her disappearance, everyone in the family could feel that missing piece. Her.

There was so much he wanted to say. So much to ask her. Charles' mind raced no pun intended. "How are you?" His voice broke that silence, but he couldn't wait. He had waited long enough.

There was small hesitation before Y/n soft voice spoke up. "Y-Yeah good, I um..." She stops, taking in a deep breath before chuckling. Confusing Charles. "I actually came back to Monte C to um...see you guys again, I missed you guys..."

It took him a few seconds for that to sink in before Charles spoke again. "Really?" He laughed, somewhat not believing his little sister.

Smiles captured both of their lips, Y/n nodding laughing along with Charles. "Yeah, I guess my plan sort of worked out..."

"Well you're lucky chérie, everyone is going round Mamans tonight..." Surprise filled her face, her luck this evening was immaculate. "I was at Lorenzos to pick up some bits and then you called"

-

They pulled up to Pascales house, and a wave of tears wash off Y/n. It was the first time in years since she had been home, the place where she took her first steps.

The white front door and the beige shutters, everything all still there. Y/n thoughts were interupted by the voice of her brother. "Oh I guess we're the last ones here. You ready for this princesse?"

With a nod and a deep breath, Y/n climbed out of the Ferrari. Walking up to the front door; she was messing with her hair, clean down her outfit and wiping away any smugged makeup. This was the first she would see her family after so long, she wanted to make a good impression.

Charles walking slightly ahead of her, chuckling softly at her. "You know they won't care what you look like. I mean you could walk in wearing a trash bag and a birds nest for hair and we'd still be happy to see you..."

It's true. She had been gone for so long that the family would do anything to hug Y/n and talk to her again. Her hands slowly lower from her hair, nodding cautiously.

Side by side they both walk up to the front door. Charles doesn't even knock or ring the doorbell, he just walks in. "Maman? Arthur? Enzo?" He shouts through the house, wondering where they are. The two siblings hear a faint shout from their mother.

"In the kitchen Charlie"

It was like time stood still for Y/n. She hadn't heard her mothers voice in such a long time, and oh how she missed it. Tears clouded over her eyes.

A rough hand slipped into hers, Charles was now leading the almost frozen Y/n to the kitchen. As they walk through the hallway, she notices how alongside photos of Charles, Lorenzo and Arthur are pictures of Y/n. And not just old photos before she ran away, no photos from her career.

One photo she takes notice of is from when she was in Swan Lake as Odette, the Swan princess.

They're just outside the kitchen when Charles turns to Y/n. He smiles gently, looking into her glossy eyes. "Let's do this yeah?" And with that, he walks her into the kitchen.

Pascale looks up from the chopping board expecting to see Charles but stops when she spots Y/n stood next to him with glistening eyes. Arthur turns from the fridge and stops mid sentence. "Charles, did I tell you about-"

Theres a heavy silence in the room, only interupted by Pascale dropping the knife and rushing over to her daughter. The two female collide into a hug, both sobbing.

Lorenzo and Charles connect eyes, both happy that Y/n is back home. "Oh maman, Je suis désolé, tu me manques..." The rest of the family hear Y/n's voice crack, and they all swear they feel their hearts crack slightly.

Y/n feels Pascale shaking her head. "C'est bon, c'est bon bébé" Pulling away from the hug, she cups Y/n's wet cheeks. Eyes taking in the grown womens features. But their silent interaction is cut short by Arthur lightly moving his mother out of the way.

He takes his little sister into his arms and spins her round, laughing loudly and cheerfully. "Oh my god you're back! You're back!" Arthur puts her down after a few spins. "I can't believe you're back!"

Y/n smirks slightly and replies back to him. "Best believe it!" Which earns her a playful slap on the shoulder. Arthur steps back and the now reunited family gather around the kitchen island. "I miss you guys, I actually came back to see you guys again..." Biting her lip slightly, Y/n waits for their response to her comment.

Smiling softly, Charles laughs. "Well I don't know about anyone else but I feel honoured. Y/n Leclerc, pro ballet dancer takes the liberty to visit her family" The kitchen lights up in laughter whilst he moves across the isle and give the young female a side hug.

"Get used to me Cha Cha, I'm on break for the summer"

~

yourusername

Surprise! I am a Leclerc girl oops <3

Liked by lorenzotl and 203,643 others

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-

[wdcbug]

summer nights.⠀⠀pepe marti.

01.⠀⠀masterlist.⠀⠀02.⠀⠀regulations.⠀⠀03.⠀⠀navigation.

wc. ⠀⠀700+⠀⠀genre.⠀⠀fluff.⠀⠀warnings.⠀⠀mutual pining, short kiss.

summary⠀⠀in which pepe apologizes a little too hard for dunking you under water.

ellis chats⠀⠀its been waaay too long , but i’m back with a tiny fic!!! this is for my lovelys @ferrarifudds and @pedriache enjoy <3 Mwah!!! apologizing for any typos in advanced. my Bad.

the beach was quieting, shadows stretching long over the sea as the sun slid toward the horizon of the waters of barcelona. a few families were packing up, kids dragging their brightly colored towels behind them, all while the sky painted itself in a hundred shades of fire.

but pepe didn’t notice it, he was too busy watching you.

you stood knee-deep in the water, arms stretched out like you could catch the waves in your fingers. your clothes were abandoned on the shore, leaving you a bikini that complimented your complexion a little too much for pepe’s liking. he couldn’t help but stare at you instead of where his eyes were supposed to be — on the water, the brightly colored sky, literally anywhere else. with a sigh escaping his lips, pepe stood up, finally giving in. you were like a siren luring him into the water, and he couldn’t help but join you.

discarding his shirt on the shore, pepe ran into the water, wincing as the slightly cold waves hit his tanned skin. pushing past the flowing water, he waded over to you, nearly laughing at how in awe you were of the beautiful scene of nature.

“you planning on staying out here til its dark? the suns almost down,” pepe questioned, a teasing tone in his voice as the ocean curled around his legs. he still couldn’t help but be in awe of you, his eyes restraining from wandering as he wadded in front of you.

you turned around, playfully rolling your eyes and splashing him with the flick of your hands. pepe grimaced, smudging the water off the lense of his sunglasses, yet his smile remained.

“maybe,” you hummed, “unless you’re afraid of sea monsters.” the words that fell passed your lips oozed with a teasing tone, only working to make pepe more enamored with your flashy attitude.

the spanish boy huffed, yet a laugh couldn’t help but fall past his lips, “sea monsters don’t scare me — i think you’re the scariest thing in this water.” the two of you had always joked around, danced around each other in a fit of laughs, one where you both pretended everything was normal. “oh?” your eyes sparkled, a laugh falling from your lip like a lullaby, “you wanna play those games? then lets play.”

and suddenly you were darting towards pepe, laughing, flicking more water into his face. he lunged after you with exaggerated slowness, making you shriek and splash away. the two of you danced around each other like kids — half-fighting, half-flirting, messing around like high school lovers.

then, without thinking, pepe swept a wave toward you — catching you by the waist before you could think and pulling you under the water with a quick and surprised gasp. it was instinct, a playful gesture that was too fast to stop. but as soon as you went under water, pepe’s heart jumped sideways.

you surfaced like it was nothing, a sputtering laugh falling from your lips and your hair plastering your forehead. “you jerk!” you coughed out, yet the teasing tone that was always there remained in your voice.

pepe’s stomach dropped as the cough escaped your throat. a fear that he had hurt you mustering in his stomach. “oh my god — are you ok? i wasn’t trying to dunk you, i just — it was supposed to be funny,” his words were too apologetic, too caring for something so small.

“pepe,” your voice was half-breathless, half-amused as you cracked a smile, yet pepe didn’t break. “what?” the boy was genuinely flustered, cheeks tinged red from either embarrassment or sunburn, “seriously, i’m sorry.”

you stepped closer, close enough that the water lapped between the two of you, warm from the day’s sun, yet cool from the sea. your eyes were on his, soft and unreadable. and then you kissed him. just a brush — quick and fierce.

pepe blinked — he didn’t know what to say — and before he could spit out any nonsense, you were already turning and running through the water towards the shore. your laughter echoed against the water, leaving pure bliss and happiness in its wake.

“hey!” pepe called out, nothing but confusion and a sense of giddiness filling his body. “catch me if you can!” you called out over your shoulder, a grin wide enough to hold the whole sky displayed on your face.

pepe stood stunned for a second, heart hammering, the ocean suddenly warmer and more alive. the kissed still buzzed on his lips. it wasn’t long, it wasn’t dramatic, but it was real.

he grinned live a lovesick fool, his smile ear to ear. then, with a deep breath, he started running after you.

© wdcbug do not plagiarize. all rights reserved ‘25.

[bearmansbabe]

Ollie Bearman x Reader

Summary: You give Ollie a special reward for his victory in Monza...

Warnings: Smut, NSFW content

“Ollie Bearman wins in Monza!!” the commentator blares. An uncontrollable, wide grin spreads across your face as you watch your boyfriend cross the line. The Prema garage erupts around you with joy.

You join the rest of the Prema crew in the pitlane and watch as Ollie stops his car in front of the #1 marker stand. He leaps out, pumping his fists in the air, and rushes towards you. His strong arms wrap around you in a firm hug. The adrenaline pumping through his veins cause him to hold you a little too tight, but you love how well you fit in his arms.

He releases you and embraces the rest of his team before heading inside to fulfil FIA checks before the podium. You wait impatiently to see him celebrate on the podium. After 15 minutes, they do the podium. He comes out, a huge grin across his face. He raises his trophy above his head and sprays the champagne over the other drivers on the podium. Then he blows a kiss down to you – instantly, you know fans on TikTok will be clipping that up, wishing he was doing that to them. You knew how unbelievably desirable your boyfriend was but had no intention of sharing him with anyone.

After the podium, you let him go and celebrate with the team and return to the motorhome to wait for him…

Ollie opens the door 30 minutes later. “Hey baby,” you say as he enters.

His soft brown eyes look at you. His messy, brown hair perfectly frame his gorgeous face. His usually curly hair

“Hey,” he replies, placing his trophy and champagne on the table and then walking towards you.

 “How’s my winner feeling?” You ask.

“I’m exhausted,” he replies, his eyes closing as he hugs you gently.

“Well, you can relax now, baby. Let me take care of you,” you say. You capture his mouth in a soft kiss, beginning to undo his Prema overalls. You suck his neck, his heavy breath in your ear. You slowly peel his Prema overalls off his body and let them hang from his waist. You drop to the floor and remove his boots. You’re on your knees as you pull his overalls off, exposing his boxers and the noticeable bulge in them. You take off his socks and return back to your feet.

You start kissing him again. It’s more passionate and desperate now. Your lips crash together harder. You grip the hem of his shirt and pull it up. He gets the memo and raises his arms so you can pull his tight white undershirt over his head. “I love your body so much!” you exclaim as you expose his chiselled abs and toned arms. His mouth forms a wide grin as you take in the magnificent body in front of you.

His body is coated in a layer of sweat and champagne. It glistens in the light on his wonderfully toned body. You begin a tour of his perfectly sculpted physique. You begin at his tight pecs and gently play with his adorable pink nipples. You stroke your hand down his chest and over his sensational abs. Your eyes wander to the thick bulge in Ollie’s boxers, a malevolent smile creeping across your face.

You take a nipple in your mouth, tweaking the other with your hand. Again, he exhales deeply at your touch. Your cold hand against his warm body like a shock of electricity. You lay a trail of kisses down his body, over his impressive chest and defined abs, slowly dropping to your knees. The saltiness from the sweat and the velvety notes of Champagne mix to form a delicious concoction on your tongue. You kneel before him, face-to-face with his suggestive tent. You gently scrape your nails against his skin and under his waistband. You slide his black boxers off to unveil his thick, 7-inch cock which springs up, almost hitting you in the face.

It's the most beautiful dick you’ve ever seen. His pulsating purple head, already glistening with precum, makes you salivate instantly. His long and thick shaft is made even more beautiful by the bulging veins across its surface. A trimmed bush of hair frames his impressive cock and his balls, full of his delicious cum, look enticing.

You wrap your strong hand around his length. A soft moan escapes his lips as you run your fingers over his member. You begin rolling your fist along his shaft, his foreskin gliding back and forth to expose his head which beckons you to swallow it. His moans become louder as you stroke him faster.

“Are you liking it?” You ask him, looking up at his magnificent body.

“Mmmm…” he agrees, nodding his head, “I love the feeling of your hand round my cock.”

“Well if you’re enjoy this, you will love what’s coming next,” you reply. You stop pumping his impressive cock and move your mouth towards his meat. You see him shiver as he feels your breath against his cock. Then you slowly circle your tongue around his head. You hear Ollie exhale deeply and his cock throb at the touch of your tongue.

Next, you swallow the head of his cock in your mouth, and he lets out the most delightful moan.

“Fuckkkkkk,” he moans. This is all the encouragement you need to progress the blowjob. You slide your lips down his shaft and begin bobbing on his shaft. You start slowly and gradually increase the pace. Ollie’s moans become more desperate, high-pitched, and loud.

“You’re wearing way too many clothes,” Ollie stated through bated breath.

You pop off his cock and flash a flirtatious smile at him. “We ought to do something about that then,” you reply, returning to your feet. Now at face level, you hold strong eye contact until he places his large, soft hand on your cheek and pulls you into a passionate kiss. His pulls back for a moment and pulls your shirt up. You raise your arms, and he lifts your shirt over your head. He ogles at your body like you had done earlier before resuming the kiss. His hands start roaming your body, desperate to touch every inch of your body.

You break away from the kiss and say, “I want to get back to sucking your fat cock.”

“Strip for me first, please, babe,” Ollie says, pouting.

You pull off your socks and then slide your trousers off. You stand there in just your underwear and watch as he stares at your body, gently stroking his cock. You remove your underwear and drop to your knees again. You start by sucking his balls. They feel so full in your mouth. You lick a stripe up his cock and then envelop his cock with your mouth again.

Your eyes travel up Ollie's body to the Briton's soft face. The F2 driver's cheeks shone a shade of crimson. Your tongue forces Ollie's eyes to roll to the back of their sockets. You begin to bob quickly, sucking hard on 18-year-olds’s thick cock. The Prema driver places his hand on the back of your head as you pleasure him. Your hands hold his smooth muscular thighs legs. Devouring the length of Ollie's shaft, you suck the delicious cock. He grabs a handful of your hair and presses your face down so far that your nose presses against his pale crotch. You send waves of pure pleasure through the F2 driver's body.

“I’m close, babe,” Ollie moans. This makes you increase the pace. You take his entire length in your mouth. It tastes amazing and is covered in your saliva. You suck harder and faster until he explodes in your throat.

“Ohhhh, yessss,” He moans, followed by a string of expletives, as he finishes in your mouth. You swallow his delightful load. The salty taste lingering on your tongue.

“That was heavenly,” Ollie comments and he recovers his breathing from your intense moment.

“Now it’s your turn,” you say, returning to your feet.

“Okay, let’s take this to the bedroom,” he says. His strong arms pick your naked body up like a trophy and he carries you to his bedroom to have his way with you…