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rosyblooom · 11 days

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a in anniversary is for apple pie! | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: charles and y/n return from their wedding anniversary dinner to find their daughter still awake and adamant about wanting the apple pie she was promised tonight! A/N: tysm for 500 followers🥹 pls accept this entirely sweet & happy fic as a token of my appreciation🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading <3

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc Happy wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife, Y/N. You hold my heart in the palm of your hands, but I couldn't imagine it safer anywhere else. I'm excited for more, mon cœur 🙏❤️

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username wake up babe new photos of charles and y/n's secret wedding just dropped

username these crumbs are actually such nasty work smh😩 they're sick! username can't wait to see to finally see the whole wedding in 60 years🥲

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yourusername iIy baby🥰🥰

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username still can't believe charles has a wife and it isn't me😭

username oh to be called mon cœur by charles leclerc...

username if you zoom in on the 3rd pic you'll see me face down in the ocean😔

username omg that makes two of us !! TWINNING😜

charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Wow. ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: mon amour ❤️ ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

Fumbling, you struggle to insert the key into the lock, a task made unexpectedly difficult by your husband's impatience. His gentle kisses land on the nape of your neck, his soft whispers proving to be an unwelcome distraction. "Stop it! Can't you wait until we're inside?" you scold, attempting to maintain focus. But his arms remain securely wrapped around your waist, his affectionate gestures relentless. "Remember, we have to face the babysitter the moment we open the door."

"Mhm," Charles hums against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine and a suppressed smile to your lips. You curse silently at the six-inch heels you foolishly chose, your knees growing weaker with each passing second, the shoes only exacerbating the situation.

With a soft click, the door swings open, a rush of relief flooding through you as you silently thank your lucky stars. But before you can fully absorb the scene, the familiar sound of footsteps, accompanied by a beloved voice, reaches your ears.

"Maman!" Your daughter's enthusiastic embrace threatens to topple you as her tiny arms envelop your thighs. The warmth of Charles beside you momentarily dissipates as he steps back, a look of surprise crossing his features.

Running a hand through his beard, he gently tousles D/N's hair as he asks, "What are you doing up so late, love?"

Annie, your babysitter, interjects with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I tried to get her to bed, but she insisted you guys were making apple pie tonight." She scratches the back of her neck, shrugging apologetically. "I did my best, but this little one is quite determined, as I've come to learn. Right, D/N?" Annie redirects her attention downward, addressing your daughter.

“You promised me apple pie, Maman!” D/N's insistent plea rings out, her small fingers grasping the fabric of your dress. “And I want it now! I want it now! I want it now!”

Kneeling down to her level, you gently place a finger to your lips. “Alright, D/N, I can hear you, but not so loud. Remember, at night-time, we use our inside voice, okay?” Tenderly, you intertwine your hands with hers, tracing comforting circles on the back of her hands.

D/N nods solemnly and whispers, “You promised me you’d make apple pie, and I want it now. Papa,” she turns her pleading gaze to Charles, releasing herself from your grasp and wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve been waiting all day for this, please, Papa.”

Motioning for you to handle the situation with Annie, Charles scoops D/N up, settling her on his hip before disappearing down the hallway and into the kitchen.

You straighten up, offering Annie an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say, reaching into your bag and retrieving an envelope labelled ‘Annie’s pay’. With a gentle gesture, you extend your arm, offering it to her. “This covers today, plus a tip, of course.”

Annie shakes her head, pushing the envelope back towards you. “I can’t accept this. I mean, I failed at getting her to sleep.”

“What?” You try to keep your voice steady, but frustration seeps through. “No, absolutely not.” Determinedly, you grasp her hand, pressing the envelope into her palm before folding it closed. “This is your money; you showed up today and did amazing, as usual. I promised D/N something, so that’s on me, really.”

She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly. “Are you sure, Mrs. Leclerc?”

You let out a hum. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just Y/N. None of that Mrs. stuff in this house, please,” you chuckle, “you're making me feel old.”

“Right, sorry, Y/N,” Annie quickly corrects herself.

Satisfied, you nod. “We’re getting there… But yes, I am absolutely sure. You deserve every single cent. Seriously,” you emphasise, “you’re a huge help to my family.”

"Alright, thank you, Y/N," Annie retrieves her bag from the hook on the wall and opens the door. "Have a good night."

"You too, Annie. Thanks again."

With a sudden slam, the door startles you for a moment before you release a long breath. You kick off your heels, relieved to be free of the "death traps" as you call them. As your feet meet the cool marble floor, a wave of calm washes over you, releasing the tension from your shoulders. It's exactly what you needed. Feeling much better, you slip off your coat and hang it beside the door before making your way into the kitchen.

A short while later…

"Alright," you lean over the counter, your forearms resting on the cool top, a warmth spreading through your heart as you watch Charles holding D/N in his arms, gently swaying side to side as they dance.

"That's what your mum and I were doing after we finished eating," he whispers.

D/N's high-pitched giggles fill the room, her tiny hand gripping a couple of Charles' fingers. "I want to come next time," she says, turning her head towards you. "Please, please, can I come next time, Maman?"

"Yes," you smile, "of course. Next time, you'll join us for our little anniversary date, okay?"

"Yay!" your daughter raises her hands in excitement, her face beaming.

Recalling the original plan, you clap your hands together. "Alright, D/N, are you still sure you want apple pie tonight? Not tomorrow or the day af—?"

"No, no, no!" she interrupts. "I want apple pie now!"

"Okay, okay… Time to wash your hands then, honey."

D/N squirms in Charles' grip, and when he finally releases her, she races for the sink in the corner of the room, immediately flicking the tap on.

Charles chuckles at the sight before turning his attention to you, stepping closer. You straighten up from the counter just in time as his hands envelop you, trapping you between the counter and his body.

"Looks like our plans will have to wait until later, huh?" you whisper, your voice taking on a sultry tone as your fingers trail up his broad chest, halting on his black tie, starting to unravel it.

Charles leans down, his warm breath slipping into the gap between your parted lips, the sweet tinge of red wine coating your tongue. "Looks like it… But I can wait, mon cœur," his voice resonates breathily as he closes the remaining distance between your faces, his soft lips meeting yours, hungry yet gentle. The kiss is brief, barely lasting long enough for you to savour the moment, though he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it slightly before releasing his hold and pulling away.

Remembering your husband’s earlier impatience when you were struggling to open the front door, you fold his tie and set it aside before raising a single brow, asking, “Oh, can you now?”

Charles nods with a sly smile, but before he can respond, D/N beats him to it, diverting your attention as she waltzes towards you.

“Hands are washed!” she exclaims, shaking her hands dry.

"Good job, darling." You slip from Charles’ embrace, grabbing the kitchen roll off the counter and passing it to D/N. "Here."

Once you and Charles have washed your hands, you begin assigning roles. "Baby," you address your husband, pointing, "You’ll chop up the apples, and D/N…" You tilt your head down at your daughter standing in the middle of the kitchen, her smile brimming with excitement. "Do you want to make the shortcrust pastry with me, honey?"

To your surprise, D/N shakes her head and rushes to Charles’ side, her cheek pressed against him. "I want to do what Papa is doing. I don’t want to work with you, Maman."

The admission elicits laughter from you and Charles, his chuckles resonating loudly through the room as D/N pulls open a few drawers and retrieves a butter knife and a chopping board before settling down at the dining table, her back turned to you.

As you turn around, you feel Charles’ strong arms enclose around your waist, his warm hands settling onto your stomach as he whispers into your ear, "You heard the little lady. Everything's just so much more fun with her dad, you know?"

“Shut the fuck up” you quip, jabbing him with your elbow.

“I heard that!”

D/N's words cause you to pivot, fixing your gaze on the back of her head. “I’m sorry, D/N, I shouldn’t have said that,” you concede, shooting a discreet glance at Charles. “It’s just that your father has a knack for being an annoying sh—” You cut yourself off before the insult fully forms, forcing a tight-lipped smile as Charles's laughter reverberates. “Let’s just say, he can be an annoying husband sometimes, you know?”

“No! Papa is never annoying, you’re wrong,” she counters, shooting you a reproachful look before redirecting her attention to Charles, waving. “Come on, Papa, I really want apple pie. Hurry up, I’ve already started!”

“Coming, my love,” Charles murmurs softly, turning back to you and lifting your chin with a gentle touch. He places a tender kiss on your lips, then rests his forehead against yours. “So, I’m an annoying husband, huh?”

You smile and give a nonchalant shrug. “I could've said worse, trust me.”

“Papa!” D/N's voice rings out.

Charles barely flinches at your daughter's outburst, only chuckling softly and shaking his head as he moves toward the dining table, grabbing a cutting board and a knife along the way.

“Guys, we only need about eight to ten apples!” you call out from across the kitchen.

Charles winks at you. “Perfect, we have nine.”

Without further delay, you gather the ingredients for a shortcrust pastry and begin to mix them together.

Some time later…

As you finish rolling out the second dough, D/N rushes over, balancing a large bowl of sliced apples in her arms, and exclaims, “Here, Maman! We finished!”

"Thank you so much, my love," you reply, guiding her to settle the bowl onto the counter before heading towards the oven to turn it on.

Charles lifts D/N onto the counter, and you reach into the cupboard to retrieve the cinnamon, salt, flour, and sugar, handing them to your daughter. With a few instructions, she sprinkles the ingredients into the bowl of apples and begins stirring eagerly.

As D/N continues, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, and he mischievously pinches the side of your waist, prompting you to shriek and swat his hand away, shooting him a playful glare. "Stop that!"

Once everything's mixed together, D/N eagerly assists you in assembling the pie while Charles holds open the oven door for you to slide it in.

"Perfect," you exclaim, clapping your hands together. "We did really well."

D/N squeals with excitement, jumping up and down before extending her hand towards you, palm facing up. "High-five, Maman!"

You promptly oblige, meeting her hand with yours before she moves on to Charles.

Two hours later…

"Two scoops of vanilla ice cream on your slice?" you inquire, arching an eyebrow at your daughter, who struggles to keep her head up, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily before snapping back open.

"Huh?" she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, I'm starving, Maman."

You share a knowing glance with Charles, his dimples appearing as he smiles.

With a nod of understanding, you heap two scoops of ice cream onto her slice of golden apple pie, pushing the plate towards D/N.

Both you and Charles observe quietly as she struggles to eat even a single forkful before conceding defeat with a sigh.

Looking up from her plate, D/N's eyes flit between you and Charles, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Actually... I'm not hungry anymore." Before you can respond, she hops up from her seat, declaring, "I'm tired. I’m going to bed now."

She gives Charles a goodnight hug, then comes to you, avoiding eye contact as she quickly embraces you. "Good night, Maman."

In the blink of an eye, she vanishes from the kitchen, her footsteps on the marble floor echoing faintly as she races down the corridor, until they're drowned out by the resounding slam of her bedroom door.

You and Charles share a glance, both of you unable to contain your laughter.

After the laughter subsides, you stand up, holding D/N’s plate, and remark, “I’ll pop this in the freezer.”

As you finish storing everything away, Charles rinses the final plate and settles it onto the drying rack. Patting his hands on a paper towel, he fixes you with a tender gaze.

Though you know it's irrational, a wave of insecurity washes over you, making you acutely aware of all your perceived flaws.

"I love you. Happy wedding anniversary to us, mon cœur," Charles' sweet words halt your anxious thoughts as he closes the distance between you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Your breath catches as his tongue traces patterns across your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling at your flesh.

It takes considerable effort to suppress a moan, but you manage to respond, "I love you, baby. Here's to at least eighty more."

You feel Charles' smile against your skin before he raises his head, eliciting a whimper as the cool air grazes your now raw neck. Before the sound can fully escape, Charles silences it by pressing his lips firmly against yours. The tension that had built up earlier floods over you like a tsunami, his hands exploring your body as your tongues dance, vying for dominance, until he breaks away abruptly.

Both of you are left breathless.

Once he catches his breath, Charles extends his hand to you, which you grasp eagerly—you need all the support you can get to avoid collapsing onto the floor; your legs feel like jelly.

Noticing your predicament, Charles' lips curl into a proud smile, prompting an eye roll from you as he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, bridal style, and plants a tender kiss on your cheek.

"I think we should continue this in the bedroom, mon cœur," he whispers, carrying you down the hallway, anticipation making your teeth capture your bottom lip.

yourusername

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yourusername I've loved you three six summers now, honey, but I want 'em all... 💕

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charles_leclerc Sounds like a beautiful plan ❤️

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username alright that's enough internet for today🤧

username AHHH THE 3RD PIC WITH D/N??? I'M CRYING

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username girl don't speak that shit into existence !! username wait you're right SRY I TAKE IT BACK PLSS

1:11 ───ㅇ───────── 3:25

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phillydilly · 4 months

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Contours of comfort

⊹♡— In which y/n and Charles’ relationship is still new, and he finds out that her hair is naturally curly

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Authors note: I realised that I hadn’t posted on here in nearly a month and had to change that, even if I don’t love this story as much as I loved the idea of it lol. But as always, I hope you like it!

The soft glow of your apartment provides a comforting backdrop as you prepare for the evening with Charles. The air is filled with the scent of your favorite candle, casting a warm ambiance that matches the flutter of excitement within you. Tonight feels different, a departure from routine that you welcome with open arms.

As you work with your hair, applying a minimal amount of product to enhance its natural texture, a sense of liberation washes over you. You smile at the reflection staring back. While you usually straighten your hair when going out, tonight you decide that you simply can't be bothered, so the curls will do their thing.

The anticipation of Charles's reaction adds an extra layer of excitement when you realize he's never seen your curly hair. Would he appreciate the change? The uncertainty fuels your enthusiasm as you slip into an outfit that complements the newfound confidence.

You lock your apartment door behind you, the click echoing a departure from the familiar. Each step towards Charles's place carries a sense of anticipation.

Arriving at his door, you take a moment before knocking. As he opens the door, his surprise mirrors your own excitement.

"Hey," you greet, your curls framing your face with newfound vibrancy. Charles's eyes widen, and a smile plays on his lips. "Thought I'd switch things up tonight."

Charles's expression transforms from surprise to sheer admiration. "Well, it's a pleasant change. You look incredible." He steps forward, enveloping you in a hug that feels like a warm embrace of acceptance.

"Thank you," you reply, returning the hug. His reaction makes you feel surprisingly carefree about your decision to go natural with your hair. You head inside, the air buzzing with newfound energy.

As Charles leads you to the living room, you can't help but feel a delightful flutter in your stomach. The atmosphere is charged with anticipation, and you're ready to let the evening unfold. Charles motions towards the couch, and you settle in for your movie night ritual.

"So, how come I've never seen your natural hair before?" Charles asks, genuinely intrigued.

You shrug, a playful smile on your face. "Guess it just never came up. Besides, I like switching things up."

"Well, I'm a fan," he declares, his eyes lingering on your curls. "You look so beautiful."

As the movie plays in the background, your conversation flows effortlessly. Charles expresses his admiration for your curls, but it's more than that. It's the way he looks at you—with genuine affection and acceptance—that makes you realize how lucky you are to have stumbled upon someone so caring.

He continues to play with your curls, and you can feel the love radiating between you. It's not about the hair; it's about the connection, the comfort, and the joy of being yourselves in each other's presence. In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the TV and the warmth of Charles's embrace, you know that this is something special, something worth savoring and cherishing.

#charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 smut #formula 1 x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc

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httpsserene · 7 months

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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!

huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)

cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss

here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!

it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.

this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).

the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.

you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.

you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left.

they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“

“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”

charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.”

you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”

you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.

you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like.

you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.

max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.

you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.

you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.

your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.

you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.

now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing.

“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.

the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss.

your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.

charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control.

the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.

eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall.

his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can.

your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing.

thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath.

the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.

you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.

you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other.

the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.

you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face.

even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises.

the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come.

you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.

but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it.

your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.

you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.

after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.

fuck.

a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”

max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath.

but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide.

charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”

max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”

the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom.

max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.

max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”

your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly.

max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”

you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.

the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”

you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“

charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”

you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”

you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”

max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.

“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”

“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”

charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago.

you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy! i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”

a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.

“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone.

a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”

max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.

charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.

“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”

the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.

you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”

“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”

max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.

max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”

“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.

you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”

max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.

“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”

charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“

“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”

you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.

“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“

“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”

you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.

“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”

you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”

max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.

max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.

“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”

you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them.

your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.”

“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.

“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.

he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”

you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”

he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—

“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.

max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”

charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”

you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”

charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”

“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.

“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”

“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”

you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes.

you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.

“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”

“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”

“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”

“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste.

you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.

“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”

charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”

“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”

“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”

“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”

“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“

what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.

max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.

you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“

and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.”

they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep.

“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner.

shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”

max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”

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lecsainz · 7 months

Text

HOME SWEET HOME

pairings: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

summary: you're charles' girl, and he catches you groovin' solo in the crib you both share.

authors note: It was in my drafts for ages, so I thought, why not post it?

✩. . . masterlist !

Y/N was having a blast in the living room of Charle’s house, dancing and singing along to Taylor Swift's latest hit.

She was so caught up in the moment that she didn't even hear Charles come in. He had just arrived home after a weekend of racing, still on a phone call that he was intermittently ending and leaning against the wall to observe his girlfriend.

He leaned against the wall, watching Y/N dance and sing at the top of her lungs. She was wearing nothing but one of his shirts and her panties, and Charles couldn't help but smile at how cute and silly she looked.

"Bonsoir, mon amour,*" he said in a teasing tone, using one of his favorite terms of endearment. "What's with all the noise?"

* Good evening, my love

Y/N immediately stopped dancing and turned bright red. "Oh my god, Charles!" she exclaimed, covering herself with a pillow. "I didn't know you were home."

Charles chuckled and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry for interrupting your private concert," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. "But I couldn't resist watching you for a moment."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous she must have looked. "I can't believe you saw me like this," she said, burying her face in his chest.

Charles pulled back to look at her. "Why? You look beautiful," he said sincerely. "And you always know how to put a smile on my face, even after a tough weekend of racing."

Y/N blushed at his words and smiled back at him. "Well, Taylor Swift has always been our go-to for dancing and singing," she replied, moving closer to him. "And I needed to lift my spirits after hearing about your tough weekend."

Charles chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist.

As the song lover by Taylor Swift started playing, Charles pulled Y/N even closer and began swaying to the rhythm. Y/N rested her head on his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace, and breathed in his familiar scent.

As they danced, Charles couldn't help but think about how lucky he was to have Y/N in his life. She was his rock, his support system, and his biggest cheerleader, both on and off the track. He felt a surge of love and gratitude for her, and he knew that he needed to show her just how much he appreciated her.

"Y/N," he said, breaking the comfortable silence between them. "I just want you to know how much you mean to me. You make every day brighter and better just by being in it, and I can't imagine my life without you."

Y/N looked up at him with wide eyes, touched by his words. "Charles, you don't have to say that-"

"No, I do," he interrupted, cupping her face in his hands. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Y/N. I love you more than anything."

Y/N's heart swelled with emotion, and she leaned in to kiss him. It was a gentle, sweet kiss, full of all the love and tenderness they shared.

As they pulled away, Charles grinned at her. "Now, let's keep dancing," he said, pulling her closer once again. "I could dance with you forever."

They stayed like that for a while, lost in their own world, until they finally pulled away, their foreheads still touching.

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fics #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x you #f1 fluff #🏎️. — f1 works ⋆∴

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myysaints · 10 months

Note

Hi there! I have this silly idea where yuki is y/n (established - actress,singer etc) biggest fan and when lando and y/n officially confirmed their relationship, yuki on his quest to make sure that max will treat y/n right. Lando (borderline amused and annoyed) still try to prove himself to yuki bcs y/n is very fond of him (and provide great entertainment for her). I know this quite ridiculous and would understand if you declined it :)

°˖ ⊹ ꒰ LN4 ꒱ TREAT HER RIGHT─ LANDO NORRIS

LANDO NORRIS x f!singer!reader

genre — fluff

notes — thank you so much for the request! it was not at all ridiculous, i absolutely love this dynamic between lando and yuki !!! ik your request mentioned max, not sure if that was a typo? hopefully i got it right by going with lando :> hope u enjoy this one !!! xx (edit: LOL just realised i called u anon when your user is there TT so sorry bout that!!!)

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, danielricciardo, and 7,118,249 others

🏷 yourusername

landonorris the sweetest melody i've ever known ❤️

view all 3,741,822 comments

danielricciardo congrats lovebirds 🎉🕊

yourusername miss you already :(

yourusername don't mind me, just appreciating the sweetest boy ever... ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername can't wait to see you soon !!!

yourusername gonna write a whole album about how much i love u

landonorris I'd love that

mclaren Can't wait to see you in the paddock, yourusername ;)

Liked by yourusername, landonorris

If Lando had known this would happen, he’d have never made that Instagram post.

“YOU’RE DATING WHO?!”

The Japanese driver in front of him whirls around in his seat, eyes wide and mouth hung open in askance.

It’s rare that Yuki speaks to Lando; after all, their language and cultural barrier makes conversation difficult. But this is an entirely different situation altogether.

Lando grins sheepishly, casting a look towards Charles, who stands beside him. The Monegasque merely chuckles, leaning forward in his seat to peer at Yuki.

“So, do you know Y/N?” Charles asks with a cheeky smile.

“Do I know Y/N?!” Yuki is practically leaping out of his seat, his excitement causing the other drivers in the area to glance back at the commotion. “Of course I do! She’s the best singer of all time! I always listen to her songs!”

“Oh, are we talking about Y/N L/N?” Pierre, passing by, cuts in, “Yuki loves her. Has a huge crush on her and everything.”

Lando spreads his palms out, grinning. “Guess I’ll have to keep Yuki away from her when she comes to the paddock, hmm?”

The way Yuki’s eyes light up in glee doesn’t go unnoticed, the Alpha Tauri driver’s face breaking out into an uncontrollable grin.

“You’re bringing her! When? Where?!”

“Calm down, mate,” Lando laughs, leaning back in his seat. His heart flutters at the thought of you in McLaren colours, proudly representing him and his team in the paddock, for the world to see. He clears his throat, trying to stop the furious reddening of his cheeks. “You’ll see her at Suzuka. No rush.. I know my girlfriend's quite the catch - but so am I, right?”

At this, Yuki seemingly goes quiet.

Lando raises an eyebrow. “Yuki…? You okay there?”

A moment of silence passes before Yuki gets up, motioning for Lando to follow him. With a wary look towards an equally-confused Charles and Pierre, who both only shrug in response, Lando follows Yuki towards a quieter corner.

Once they reach a secluded spot, Yuki’s eyes darken, his smile dropping instantly. The shift in atmosphere is undeniable. Lando's never seen Yuki this serious, not even after the Spanish Grand Prix. In all honesty: It scares him.

“Lando,” Yuki says, his voice steeled and brows furrowed. “I like you. I think you’re funny, and you’re a good driver-”

“Hey, thanks man,” he jokes. The attempt at keeping the mood light, however, doesn’t work in the slightest.

“-But, look, listen, if you ever think of hurting her-”

“Sorry, are we talking about Y/N?” Lando’s head tilts in confusion.

“Yes, Y/N. If you ever hurt her,” Yuki continues, ignoring the shocked look on Lando’s face. “If you ever try to hurt her, just know that I will never forgive you. Ever. Do you understand?”

“I-” Lando shakes his head, his cheeks going pink. How do you even respond to that? “-Well, yeah, mate, of course. I only want the best for her. Really, I do.”

“Okay, good. 'Cause I’ll be watching you.” Yuki straightens up, a satisfied smile on his face. “Well, I’ll see you around, then! I will look forward to Suzuka.”

And, with a playful punch to the arm, Yuki is off, leaving Lando stunned at what just happened.

So, when Suzuka rolls around, true to his word, Lando shows up to the paddock with you on his arm.

The sight has Yuki running over instantly, a large bashful smile on his face as he greets you enthusiastically.

“Hi! You must be Yuki,” you smile softly, quietly amused at his enthusiasm. “Lando’s told me all about you.”

That was true - Immediately after Lando’s little… altercation, as one might call it, with Yuki, he’d texted you in a frantic hurry. It was, in all honesty, endearing, and incredibly funny. You’d teased Lando about it relentlessly in the days after. Plus, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t used the Alpha Tauri driver’s words as leverage; referencing Yuki’s threat to get Lando to pick up some cupcakes, to let you pick the movie for date nights, and so on.

Lando hums in response, watching with an amused smile as Yuki almost trips over his feet trying to shake your hand. “Y/N, this is Yuki. And Yuki, this is… Well, you already know who she is.”

Yuki’s eyes are blown wide in amazement as he shakes your hand, his grip firm and his smile bright. “Wow, it’s so cool that you’re here! I love your new song, it’s already one of my favourites!”

You share a smile with Lando, who squeezes your side in a playful ‘I-told-you-so’ motion.

“Thank you so much, Yuki, that’s so sweet of you! Tell you what - If you let Lando past in the race, I’ll send you a signed copy of my new album, free of charge, before it even drops. How 'bout that?”

Yuki lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head. "No way! Maybe if Lando lets me through in quali today."

You exchange a grin with your boyfriend, who shakes his head in amusement.

"Alright, it was great seeing you, Yuki. Good luck out there," Lando fist bumps the smaller driver, who waves at you before departing with a pep in his step.

Lando's hand finds yours as you walk back to the McLaren motorhome.

"So, that was Yuki..."

"Yep," he nods in response, popping the 'p'. "What'd you think of him?"

You smile cheekily. "You sure it was him who threatened you that time? He seems so sweet!"

Lando scoffs, shaking his head despite the amused smirk that sneaks up on his face. "You haven't seen him when he's angry. He's a menace on the track, I'll tell you that."

The bright laugh that leaves your lips makes Lando's heart skip a beat, heat rising to his face at the look of joy you send his way. You never cease to make his heart flutter.

"Well, finish in the points, and maybe I'll put in a good word to Yuki then, hmm?"

"Alright, muppet. You can count on that."

"Well..."

You're lying on the bed in Lando's hotel room, his trophy sitting tall and proud on the dresser in front of you.

It's been a crazy past 24 hours. In just this one day, you've witnessed perhaps one of the greatest drives of Lando's career, and at your first ever race, on top of that.

Lando wraps you in his arms, flipping the both of you around so that you lie atop his chest.

You smile he gazes up at you, his chest rising and falling to the steady beating of his heart. You feel so at home in these moments, the in-between spaces of time where you have him all to yourself; no races to win, no cameras to look out for. Just you and him, and the spaces in between your fingers.

You laugh softly as he nudges his face into your neck. "Well, what?"

"Well, you still gotta thank Yuki," he replies, his voice muffled in the crook of your neck. "He let me by on the second last lap. Probably would've lost out on P3 if not for that."

You chuckle, instinctively reaching a hand up to play with his curls. Lando hums lowly, leaning into your touch.

"Thought you were scared of him?" you tease, a playful smile toying on your lips.

"Well, yeah," he mutters out, his tone of voice cheeky, a smile pressed against your skin. "Gotta stay on his good side."

That elicits a giggle from you, and he pulls away from your touch to look up at your smiling face. He cups a hand around your face and pulls you down into a kiss, the two of you breathless when you resurface for air.

"I'll send him a signed CD later," you mumble, leaning back down for another searing kiss. "But I don't wanna think 'bout him right now."

An appreciative hum leaves Lando's lips. "Why not?" he teases, pulling away with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

Your reply has his breath caught in his throat.

"'Cause all I wanna think about is you."

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#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris insta au #lando norris one shot #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic #꒰ ⁺‧₊˚ [🏁] formula 1

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hotmencore · 10 months

Text

"𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬" 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

Summary: Charles is modelling for a magazine, and the photographer captures a heart warming moment between him and his girlfriend.

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word count: 500+

A/N: I don’t know if i really like this or not, it was very rushed, so let me know what you think! Thank you for all the support so far, i really do appreciate it.

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

Charles was shooting for GQ magazine, and asked for you to come with him, as he wanted you there to see the clothes and photos before the public and his fans could.

Everything went wonderful. The clothes Charles was to wear fitted him perfectly from head to toe, and truly complimented his good looks. You tried not to gawk at your boyfriend, but honestly, you couldn't help it. He just looked so handsome. There weren't too many outfits for him try on, but the photographer wanted many angles and poses from Charles, some even with his helmet. But you didn't mind, not one bit. Charles was travelling a lot, which was a given when you 'signed up' to the whole dating an f1 driver thing, and you also had your own job to think about. So when you were both able to be in Monaco for a while, you two wouldn't waste any opportunities in spending it with each other.

Charles was handed his last outfit to try on, whilst the photographer set the camera up for the last round of photos. Charles changed quicker than the photographer was done setting up, so took the opportunity to embrace his girlfriend.

"Chérie, come here" Charles softly beckons you to him.

You stand up from where you were sat behind the camera, and walk over to Charles stood in the middle of the floor with a grin. Straight away, his arms softly wrapped around your frame. One of his hands weaved delicately around your lower back, whilst the other lightly cupped your face, causing you to look up into his eyes. He looked so mesmerizing.

"You are so beautiful mon amour, i could simply look at you for hours" You could feel your face start to heat up. You had been dating for a long time, but he never failed to make you feel just as precious as he did the first night you two met.

Charles confirms the redness to your cheeks with a smile, as his forehead lowers to softly rest on yours, his hand now moving from your cheek, to now lovingly secure you in his hold with a link of his hands behind your back. You both just stayed there, looking into each others eyes. In that moment, it felt like no one or nothing else mattered in the world. It was just you two. Charles leaned down ever so slightly more, and softly pressed his lips to yours. Reciprocating immediately, your arms moved to rest on his biceps as you two shared your sweet moment.

Minutes after, Charles started on the home stretch for the shoot, as you resumed your position from behind the camera.

A few days later, the photos had been released, and a copy of the magazine came through your letterbox. You and Charles sat on the couch cuddled up together looking through the magazine for his article. All photos were absolutely perfect, and right at the end, one unfamiliar one revealed itself to you both. It was a photo of you and Charles, from the moment you shared at the shoot, your foreheads together as you both stared lovingly into each others eyes, smiles plastered on both of your faces. You must have not realized the photographer had completed her new set up, and she clearly found the moment too sweet not to capture in a photo.

Now, that page of glossy printed paper is hung up in your shared home, so that you can both treasure the memory as much as you treasured the moment.

#1000 likes? tysm!!!#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc one shot #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc x yn

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kimis-gloves · 27 days

Text

sour - charles leclerc

word count : 780 - oneshot

hehe a lil charlie smut>:)

warnings: morning sex, dirty talk, petnames, if you squint very hard then angst?? but not rlly, softdom!charles, slight degrading, post/pre shower sex.

as early in the morning as it was, you hear Charles turning on the shower, humming whatever song he has stuck in his head from the never ending party you two went to last night. through your raging headache, you miss the warmth of your boyfriend so you stumble your way into the connecting bathroom, still in his hoodie that you managed to change into at 4:30 in the morning. Charles, already in the shower, washing off the sticky champagne & sweat. Coming p2 in Australia was something to be proud of, but he didnt feel proud. he hoped to do better next time as he hears y/n stumble her way into the bathroom, quickly going for a pee before speaking to charles through the glass doors.

“Good morning charles, ill start us some coffee”

“Thank you my love”

as you head out to make charles his favourite way of coffee, he finishes his shower and steps out to dry himself off and thats when you walk back in, coffees in hand. he looks absolutely amazing like this. hes stood infront of the large window, in nothing but a towel. the water beading off of him and dripping out of his hair. you set down the coffees and make your way towards the drool worthy man thats infront of you. you wrap your arms around his shoulders as you leave soft and wet kisses along his jawline. already being in somewhat of a sour mood, charles doesn’t appreciate your teasing and takes things into his own hands as he quickly grabs you by your hips and bends you over the counter top, almost knocking off the now close to cold coffees.

“Char-“

“A-Ah, no talking cherie, just let me take care of you right now~”

and with that you did. quickly shutting up for him as you let the man take however much control he desired from you. you thank him for any type of touch that he gives you. he goes to quickly pull down your panties, when he realizes you dont even have any on.

“What a dirty girl you are cherie.. no panties and already dripping out of your cunt like this? My my, im not sure what i should do with such a whore like you.”

he aggressively puts a hold into your hair and pulls you up to be face close to charles, breathing rapidly as he whispers,

“dont move, dont make a sound or else you will regret it. listen as i say and you wont have to suffer, am i clear darling?”

“Yes c-Charles” you say with a whine

“Hm, i dont think i was” he mutters, slowly sliding his tip along your slick-coated pussy. you whine again when he quickly smacks the side of your thigh “No noise, slut” he growls before shoving his 2 fingers into your mouth, allowing you to lick and spit on them. pulling them out and away from your mouth he instead inserts them both into your cunt.

fighting back moans, you clench your walls around charles’ fingers, letting him know how much you want to be filled his his cock.

“mon amour you feel so good, i cant wait to fill you with my cum.” he grumbled into your ear as he finally inserts his cock into your aching cunt, he bottoms out with a low hum into your ear. he slowly grinds into your pussy, drawing out lewd sounds from both of you. both you and Charles have given up on trying to keep you quiet as he just gets completely lost into your body. he sets a firm & steady pace, nearly knocking you out as he suddenly slams into you, the noise that leaves both your and his mouth is something that belongs in a porno. he wraps around your torso, one hand grabbing and pinching onto your nipple and the other reaching down to your throbbing clit. the sudden sensation is enough to set you over and soon enough you find yourself cumming all over his cock and fingers, him quickly following after as the tight & wet feeling on his cock is just too good not to cum from.

slowly pulling out of you, he’s planting kisses all over your body. turning the shower back on as he guides you in, making sure the water is the perfect temperature and that you aren’t going to topple over.

“my love, i should probably go remake these coffees” Charles laughs, placing a kiss onto your temple. as you watch Charles put his clothes on and leave the bathroom, coffees in hand, you couldn’t be more thankful to have such a perfect boyfriend like him.

a/n: i hope u enjoyed❤️ this was just something small. likes & reblogs always appreciated ❤️❤️

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mirohlayo · 2 months

Note

hi could you please write how all the f1 boys would handle fans comments about their gf not being conventionally attractive or being plus size? esp george or logan 🩵

Hii ! I didn't write how all of the f1 drivers cuz it would be too much but I did write George and Logan. Also sorry for taking a little time, I was swamped with classes this week 🫶

F1 DRIVERS DEFENDING YOU ON

YOUR APPEARANCE

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, george, verstappen, ricciardo, sargeant & gasly )

warning : insecurities ??, things related to physical appearance, body ect...

note : i don't know if my warnings are accurate lol

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

to him, you were the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. so of course, seeing those awful comments about your appearance, face and even body makes him so damn furious. in front of people, especially in front of cameras, he would defends you in an implicit way, more like voice up about body positivity and respect every type of body. but in private, when there's only you two, he'll never stop bringing about how perfect and gorgeous you look, and that he'll cherish you for the rest of his life.

─ LANDO NORRIS

boy would be mad mad. ain't no way for him to let anyone talk about you in such a disrespectful and bad way. he'll make sure you're always comfortable and secure with your own body and appearance, by praising your beauty literally every single hour. and he doesn't think twice before rejecting every single one person who talks badly about you. he always posts some stories about you, where he basically overwhelms you by compliments and obviously to fuck off your haters in his sassy way.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

he was actually shocked by the fact people hate on your body and appearance because he literally loves these parts of you. first he'll reassure you, comforts you because after all you being a goddess is just the truth. and then he would reply to every hate comments about you, defending you like it was the end of his life. he reminds you everyday to not feel bad and guilty about yourself, to not listen to those bullshit because not a single one from them are real. just listen to him and his devoted compliments.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

it's simple, if someone talks bad about you then he'll talk bad about them. his girl is the definition of beauty and perfection. he genuinely doesn't care about your attractiveness or your body weight, cause he'll love these things anyway. he's always so enamored by how beautiful you look, and he needs people to know that. so whenever someone is insulting you, he just reminds them that there is nothing more shameful than attacking a marvel like you. a gem of beauty like you.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

i know for sure he'll immediately defends you. and the cause in general, doing an inspired speech about bodies. he doesn't really insults or disrespect people too, cause after all he prefers keeping that energy to compliment you. but still, he makes sure haters won't never ever again talk about you in a horrible way. then he'll suggest you to stop social medias and just give up on your phone for a bit, to only focus on his words and your natural beauty.

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

first, his priority is you. by the second he saw those comments, he immediately look out for you. even if you haven't seen the comments, he's already there to reassure you. to shower you of heartwarming compliments and just genuinely appreciate your beauty, praising your curves and your body. then he'll try to ensure that you are not aware of these messages, that at no time you'll be confronted with bad comments about you. he makes it a promise, because you deserve it.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

the man is out of control when it comes to you. and especially when there are negative comments about your physique. it’s something he loves about you, something he adores deeply. he can literally admire you for hours without getting bored. there is so much perfection in your body. and no need to talk about your attractiveness. so as long as you know that, you're fine. but if those comments get out of hand, then he's not afraid to speak up and talk shit about whoever is insulting you.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDO

if there's one thing he can't tolerate, it's seeing you depressed because of hateful comments. he doesn't understand at all why people would hate on such a beautiful and amazing person like you ? but other than that, he'll be the best comfort boyfriend. he makes you laugh, your cheeks ache because of smiling too hard. he'll try to improve your mood by telling you funny jokes, stories, everything that makes you feel better. and on the other hand, secretly defending you on social medias by using some fake account.

─ LOGAN SARGEANT

boy is so protective towards you. maybe even overprotective. but that's his way to keep you away from bad things, such as awful comments about your physical appearance. he defends you for sure. more than anything else, day and night, he puts all of his anger into his replies to shut their mouths. and that both in public and on platforms. he doesn't understand why people don't recognize the beauty of your face, body, or even personality. just everything about yourself actually. cause you can be sure he's so fucking in love with these aspects of you.

─ PIERRE GASLY

oh man is mad. super mad even. you're literally the most precious person to his eyes, and by that logic the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. you're a piece of art, and people should know this. he won't hesitate twice before calling names the ones who disrespect you. maybe he's a bit too harsh but they just deserve it, nobody can talk bad about you, it's impossible for him. and then you can be sure he'll shower you in lot of compliments the next few weeks. telling you how gorgeous you are.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russel x reader #max verstappen x reader #logan sargeant x reader

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writingstoraes · 9 months

Text

no way 📹

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reporter!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: i want to say thank you for 1.5k! thank u for all the love you guys have been giving me and my works hehe <3 i really appreciate all notes, reblogs, replies, and messages hehe much love to everyone reading this! ❤️

about: fans notice how charles loses his senses when you're interviewing him, but they don't believe he has enough courage to do something about it!

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 563,103 others

yourusername Back in the paddock once again 🎤

norristri not charles liking this within a minute of being posted 😭😭

ferrari1655 not surprised if he has her notifs on tbh he's just as whipped for her as we are

mercmilton THE it girl of the paddock i don't make the rules!

c2champs y/n please do some content with charles and carlos i am begging

charles_leclerc ❤️

hamilnicos u a grown ass handsome man surely you can do more than just a red heart

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, estebanocon, and 431,025 others

yourusername Some paddock coverage this week 👩‍💻

chacha16 oh i just know charles is fuming y/n interviews everyone often but him 😭

sainzstappen all he had with her was one post-race interview and he was down bad already and STUTTERING lecstulips she had him giggling and shit while talking about his rear tyre failure prior to qualifying its so funny 😭

paddockgirlie Charles has once again beaten me to liking Y/N's post he is like lightning oh my god

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

chacha16 the two hearts is sending me charles im so sorry HHHDDBHFBHFBH

rbrwinners you dropped this queen 👑

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, and 540,195 others

yourusername Covering and reporting this week's race from the garage of a certain Italian racing team ❤️

Can't wait for you guys to watch the contents we had prepared!

charles_leclerc We loved having you here! ❤️

sainzbaby lose the "we" charles we all know it was just you

hamilecs ITS HAPPENING OH MY GOD CHARLES GET UP

gaslysgirlie i love how charles is just fuelling the agenda that he has a crush on y/n he's not even trying to be discreet

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly, and 302,294 others

yourusername Some outtakes from today! Had a nice time filming with charles_leclerc and carlossainz55 of Ferrari ❤️

charles_leclerc Til next time, Y/N! :)

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️ ilpredesti the smiley face oh hes so adorable

lecsmilton i just KNOW charles is having a field day rn

c2foreva we are getting more of flustered charles then 😭

44sainz we love you queen we can't wait 🙏

ynlover

liked by charles_leclerc, wagf1s, 44fan4, and 1,203 others

ynlover Charles and Carlos with Y/N today 🥰

lestappenthusiast WHY IS CHARLES HEREHFBFBHH

hamilnorris charles liked?????

loverfineline they're both winking 😭😭😭

rbrmercs now a y/n fan account is the last place i thought charles would be

YouTube, now playing: C2 Takes On 2 Challenges with Y/N!

6,372 comments

suckerforcharles: WHEN THE HELL DID CHARLES GET SO BOLD

1655sainz: holy shit i was not expecting that 😭

ricciardotauri: all yall kept saying charles had no rizz whatsoever and he decided to prove u guys wrong im crying

c2luvah: OK I TAKE IT BACK charles has got some moves in him

f1fanatic: what did y/n mean with "finally" like miss girl were u waiting too 🤭

olliefans: Carlos saying Charles is Y/N's favorite?? omg

6,501 comments

sainzmilton: I bet Carlos can't believe they're flirting right in front of his salad

lecslover: NOT Y/N FLIRTING TOO?????

luvroscoe: i'm shocked how charles didn't faint when y/n said that cause

sports55: y/n please flirt with me like that too queen 😣

6,712 comments

lewiswdc: y/n so much better than me i would have dropped dead if charles said that to me

supermaxmax: who the hell gave charles all this rizz and why was he hiding it DAMN MAN

fan2345: I am not an F1 fan but I am so invested in this I wonder if they're actually going to push through with this date 🤨

taytayrep: charles got his head in the game fr

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, pierregasly, and 1,204,582 others

charles_leclerc There really was a great restaurant downtown.

sainzznorris I CANT BREATHEEEEEE

carlandos what a lucky man y/n is so pretty 😣

scuderiazz we're glad you finally got the courage to ask her out, king!

paddock5516 ouuu those interviews with her are so gonna hit from now on

carlossainz55 You know I let you win, right?

charles_leclerc Stop ruining this for me

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @fdl305, @iloveyou3000morgan, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant, @ang3licho3, @pitlanebabe, @riverdalexvixens, @msliz (if anyone else wants to be a part of my taglist, pls lmk by replying or sending me a message hehe)

notes: thank u so much for reading <3

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leclsrc · 1 year

Text

wait and see ✴︎ cl16

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst barely, other drivers appear

word count: 2.5k

The grid recounts the evolution, nature, and many ups and downs of your and Charles' vague relationship.

auds here... req'd, this was p fun to write i hope u guys like it! :) short bec if it was any longer it wouldnt have been as nice to read i think? anyway... i love u guys. title from this.

Lando takes a seat. “Is this the thingy for…? Yeah? Okay. What am I supposed to do again?”

“Just describe the two of them.”

“Easy. She was always pissing him off.” He rubs his chin, lost in thought. “But… in a good way?”

—

“I told you a hundred times I didn’t want this to be the soundbite you published.” Charles chases after you, his footsteps quickening like a lost puppy as you wrestle your way into the media pen. “A hundred times, and you said okay, and you still published it. Che succede?”

You turn, crossing your arms over your torso. “Look. I said yes, but when I looked it over, nothing else you said was really worth it. It was all just repetitions of the same PR bullshit that makes you look good on camera.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling with frustration, watching his biting comment on Iñaki rack up hundreds of thousands of views. “This was not a good idea!” He repeats, the same sentiment he’s been telling you in the half-hour he’s known of this video’s publicity.

“But it happened.” You adjust your mic and gesture to Lando, who’s awkwardly waiting for the cameras to roll so you can start the post-FP2 interview and he can talk about his shit car. “I’m busy, so deal with it. Your fans will appreciate you not riding Ferrari’s dick all the time.”

Charles opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it, shoving his way back outside and into the motorhome so he can cooperate in damage control. He doesn’t admit it—to you, to Carlos, to anyone—but the PR that comes of it is more good than it is bad in the end. He doesn’t admit it because it means admitting you’re right, and God if that’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

—

“They were always butting heads,” George says, laughing as he soaks in the memories of it. “Always fighting over something. Anything. Whatever there was that could be disagreed on—they’d be disagreeing.”

—

It started harmlessly enough. Seb walked in with two swatches of color—a blue and a purple—and addressed the room with a light tone, asking what color would best suit the tablecloths at his wedding. And then, as it always did with you and Charles, chaos ensued.

“Blue suits green better.” You wave the blue in his face. “You’re busy thinking of red all the time so you don’t understand color theory.”

“It’s not about coordination! It’s about creating a highlight!” He gestures with his hands, aggressively gesticulating to try and get his point across. “Highlight!”

“Oh, bullshit! Blue!”

“Purple!”

“Are you crazy?!”

Across the room, Seb and George watch in mild horror at the two figures caught in a needlessly intense argument over colors at a wedding that isn’t even theirs.

An AlphaTauri engineer comes in to refill his coffee for the third time, finds the two of you still fighting and is genuinely stupefied. He turns to the two onlookers, asks, “Bridezilla, huh? Happened to me once, too. I swear the grooms always try to weasel their way in to seem more involved but their choices never make sense.”

“Oh, no. They, uh, they’re not together.” George clarifies quickly.

“They’re not?!” The engineer and Seb ask at the same time.

They all watch the argument, bemused, but secretly they all wonder just how correct George is.

—

“We have a saying in Spanish. Del amor al odio hay un paso. Neither of them will understand it—it’s in Spanish, obviously—but I think that applies to them. One minute you think they hate each other, and the next…” Carlos lets himself taper into silence, smiling softly.

—

Being around Charles feels like karmic retribution, a constant eternal push and pull. But it makes the both of you better, even if neither of you admit it in the end. You can’t really grasp why, or how it started—it might take ages if you do so much as try—but you’re content with letting things happen the way they do.

Or maybe you’re not. “You ruined my fucking broadcast, dickhead!”

You toss your earpiece at his chest, body welling up with annoyance. Your segment was being casted live until Charles insisted he take up your airtime to do whatever-the-fuck, you honestly don’t care. And yeah, sure, he’s way more relevant, but the less airtime you get, the less easily you get the exposure you need.

“It happened one time.” He sounds amused, and it patronizes you, sets you on fire. He clutches your earpiece to his chest and hands it back to you.

“Fuck you.” You tug it toward yourself, and suddenly you’re closer, noses almost touching. You step back, but it’s not enough. “You have no idea how much that mattered to me.”

His eyes flit toward your lips, your bodies melting together. “If it really did…” he says, inhaling, “you would’ve just ignored me.” And damn, he’s right.

Charles does not like you. He just knows you well. But then one might argue—isn’t that the same thing?

—

“They have trouble not calling the shots, is the thing,” Lewis offers. “So put them in a team, in a room together, and boom.”

—

“…We didn’t agree on this script.” You underline the problematic lines and toss it onto Charles’ lap from where you stand in front of the sofa. “You want your fans to hate you?”

“The questions were clumsy. I asked you to reword them, but you didn’t.”

“You didn’t ask, to be clear. You demanded.” You click your tongue.

Lewis is in the middle of posting on Roscoe’s Instagram account and manually making typos, but he looks up, interest piqued by the increasingly heated conversation.

“I asked,” Charles insists stubbornly. “Plus, this is a Ferrari segment. You get hired to write on Ferrari, you follow Ferrari.” He points to the yellow logo on his shirt. Ferrari, he mouths. Lewis stifles a chuckle at the sarcastic exchange.

“Jesus.” You reread the script. “Fine. I’ll reword this and this.”

“And that.” He points, tapping the paper.

“Only if you edit this and this. Oh, God, and this.”

“Fine. Wait, that?”

“Are you serious? It’s the corniest statement ever. Edit that or I edit nothing.”

“Okay, bossy.”

Lewis exits Instagram in favor of texting Seb to ask if you two are dating. The response he receives is equally unhelpful: Nobody knows mate.

—

“You know, for all the disagreeing they did, they actually agreed on so much of the same stuff. If they stopped fighting for two seconds they would agree on most things.” Alex muses. “But they never did, so. Or maybe a few times.”

—

Media is a tricky thing. It’s either on your side, or it isn’t.

And this weekend, Charles has drawn the short straw, subjected to bouts of backhanded journalists and tweets for his strategy during quali. You know this especially well—you’re media, for Christ’s sake—and you’ve seen your colleagues hound Charles for how he chose to tackle the session.

Alex is in the middle of a FaceTime call with Lily when he hears it. “Wait—I think they’re talking,” he says to his girlfriend when he hears you approach him, carefully maneuvering himself into optimal eavesdropping position.

“Is this the right thing to do?” Lily’s voice comes through like static.

“I know it’s wrong,” Alex confesses. “But—”

“No, I meant I can’t hear properly. Move the phone closer, you dick.”

So he does, and the two of them listen intently to your talk. You go first, a few shuffling footsteps and an adjustment of your media pass, then. “Will’s been all over you today.”

“Yeah,” comes Charles’ voice, tired if anything. “I, uh… I just hope I can understand where I went wrong and, uh. Well, uh.”

“No, I…” There’s heavy silence. “I think you did the right thing. You didn’t get pole, but it was a good strategy. Better than what was being proposed, anyway. I think that would’ve landed you at the back of the grid, to be honest.”

You both laugh. “Thanks,” he croaks.

“You did great. Don’t, um… don’t let them tell you otherwise. I’m proud of you.”

Alex never tells anybody what he heard. But it inspires many long-winded conversations with Lily about the nature of your relationship. Each time, though, they never arrive to a solid answer.

—

“Hey, listen. I always knew something was there with those two. They had the kind of dynamic you only find once in, like, a million instances.” Daniel says firmly. “But I also kept thinking… poor Charlotte.”

—

You’re half-sure Pierre was the one who bought you all shots. Or a quarter-sure. Okay, you’re not sure at all. Your mind’s cloudy, your inhibitions lowered, tongue loose and laugh contagious. Around the table everyone is laughing, some others have gotten up to dance, but you, Daniel, Lewis, and Charles are all conversing about work, albeit while drunk.

“Is… tequila… plant-based?” Lewis grimaces as he throws another shot back and you all laugh mindlessly.

“Danny,” you say, tapping his shoulder. “Any plans once you’re out of the paddock next season?”

“Ah,” he hums. “Self-discovery and a shit ton of shrooms.”

You all cheers to the epiphany, shots once again entering your system. “And a party again tomorrow!” Daniel adds half-jokingly, much to your delight. Charles, right beside you, throws an arm over your shoulder as he laughs. You’re unfazed.

Daniel’s gaze lingers on his arm a little too long, especially because your own hand reaches upward to wrap around his wrist, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. But you’re both drunk, he reasons. And plus, you can’t usually stand each other’s guts.

“I’ll pass, mate, if it happens,” Charles says, his tone clearly inebriated.

“You’re no fun,” you say lightly, laughing and turning to him. Your eyes are on the other’s, dark, lips almost touching as if you’ve forgotten Daniel and Lewis are even around (though the latter is as good as dead, honestly.)

“Invite Charlotte instead,” Daniel says with a smile, to try and test your reactions. “How long, now? Three months?”

You clear your throat, looking away with a faux smile.

“Oh. We’re not doing so well, to be honest.” Charles smiles, tight-lipped. He hopes Daniel doesn’t ask why. He can’t think of a lie quickly enough to cover how Charlotte told him I love you, Charles, but this is over. I hope you end up with her someday.

—

Seb takes some time to think about it. “Those two always fought. Everyone said that, didn’t they? All the time, disagreeing.” He hums. “I could tell very early, though, that they were also the only two who could truly understand the other. Figuratively, obviously—but as a result, also literally.”

“Elaborate?”

“When you understand someone that well, inside and out, you end up understanding everything they say.” Seb smiles. “That was them, I think.”

—

“It’s impossible to transcribe your interviews,” Will says to Charles. It’s that hour on the paddock where everyone’s waiting for the pre-race bustle to start, so small talk is what’s keeping them busy.

You’re reviewing a few clips from practice on your phone and Seb is chipping into the conversation, which has moved from Mick’s future to F1 into Sky Sports into this.

“What do you mean?” Charles asks.

“You’re always sliding in and out of your three languages!” The Englishman laughs. “I have to consult a native speaker of both Italian and French each time. And you’re always going I, I, I, or we, we, we… but hey, the fans dig it, innit?”

“I think I sound perfectly understandable.” Charles smiles. You’re still busy, unfocused on the conversation at present.

“Like, okay. Look at this.” Will retrieves his phone, opens his voice memos app, and plays one of the audio recordings there. It’s a scratchy one of Charles describing his quali session, and sure enough, even if he’s speaking straight English, the adrenaline and exhaustion have him sounding totally indecipherable.

We—we had gasjdhfhs and I, I, I… I think we need to rejshdhs and thijsjsh about the hsfhdh, yeah? And, and, uh, we ajhshajs. And

Will closes it. “Sebastian, can you tell me that said?”

He shrugs, amused. “Sorry, Charles. I genuinely can’t.”

“See?!” Will makes a voila motion. “Nobody understands this.”

“He said we had good traction and I think we need to recalibrate and think about the boxing strategy, yeah? And we need that mindset.” You’re still going over your phone, busy and not 100% invested. “You two just aren’t listening.”

Charles doesn’t take his eyes off you, or the smile off his face, the whole hour.

—

Pierre comes last, clearing his throat. He’s ready. He knows exactly what to say, so he says it. “Those two are fucking soulmates.”

—

It’s three-thirty when somebody knocks on your hotel room.

But your body still feels like it’s five in the evening, your brain’s stuck at two in the afternoon, and your sleep schedule thinks it’s nine in the morning, so you’re not asleep but instead rewriting notes from the weekend prior.

You’re horribly disoriented when you grab your pepper spray and unlatch the door, and even more disoriented when you see Charles on the other side of it.

“Am I crazy?” He asks, breathless, like he’s been waiting for you all his life. Maybe he has.

“You’re at my hotel room at three a.m., so… a bit.” You rub sleepiness and jetlag out of your eyes. “Charles, what’s going on?”

“I love you.” There it is. “It sounds so stupid. But I love you. And it’s almost—I can’t bear it. I woke up this morning? You, on my mind. Lights go off after a race? You. I go to sleep? You. It’s always you. And I know, I know it’s—I know, with Charlotte, and—but it’s true. I, I, I—I think about you every minute. And usually this happens accidentally. Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s’agit d’amour... moi y compris.

“But this was… I knew I was falling in love and I let it happen. And so I thought, why keep waiting? Why let it drag on and on and fight over and over when I can just come and tell you how much I—and maybe, hopefully, see if you feel the same?”

He pants, tired from his clearly rambled and unplanned confession.

“I love you, too,” you say, struck. Oh God.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

“It’s may,” you breathe. “May I kiss you.”

“You may,” he whispers.

“Right now?”

“Anytime.”

“So now.”

“It’s now or next Tuesday,” he jokes.

“Now is… the best. Now would do.”

“Now would do.” So you cross the threshold and let him scoop you into his arms so he can well and truly kiss you.

—

“Is that all?” The interviewer asks Pierre. “Just… those words? We need a bit more for the article on this event.”

“Oh, yeah.” He gets up, straightens his tie. “Don’t worry. You’ll hear the rest during my best man speech.”

Del amor al odio hay un paso – From love to hate, there is one step.

Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s'agit d'amour... moi y compris – We are all fools in love... me included.

#f1 #leclsrc2000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

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