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sinofwriting · 7 months

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Private Professor - Max Verstappen

Words: 5,576 Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists. Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!

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At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.

It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other's arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.

At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.

Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.

It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.

Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.

“No girlfriend?” Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?” “Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing. “I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.

He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.

It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.

The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.

His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.

They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.

She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.” “Four?” “We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”

It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.

His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.

“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”

Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?

Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.

Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.

It was them wrapped up in each other's arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.

Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.

It also leads to their biggest fight in years.

“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!” “And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.” She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it's always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.” “Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.” “Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?” “You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they're both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”

“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?” He nods. “For our future kids?” “Yes.” “So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds. He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.” “Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that. “Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.” “I want to pay for any of the kids' interests. Like art, ballet or karting.” “No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses. “Unless,” he encourages. “If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.” “No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.” “Their first degree.” He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?” Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.” His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.” “First degree only.” She agrees.

It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?” She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.” “Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.” “Not anytime soon at least.” “I love you.” He murmurs. “I love you too.”

Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.

The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.

So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.

She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.

The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.

It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.

Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.

“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.

“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone. “No.” Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,” “No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.” “I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears. “You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.” “Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs. “I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.” “Thank you.” “Of course.”

When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.

Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.

“You’re drunk.” “You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him. “You’ve been crying.” “Yeah.” He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.” “Yeah.” He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?” “That bad.” She nods.

At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.

“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly. “You’re going to marry me.” She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”

It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.

“I know I proposed early.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.” “Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours. “Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.” “Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.” “Actually,” “Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?” She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it. “Well, what did it say? The email.” “Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.” He kisses her before she can say anything else.

“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide. “You know what that means right?” He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her. “I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.” Blue eyes widen. “And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”

Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.

It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.

“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.” His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread. “That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.” “How I want to?” “Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.” “I’m not going to be cruel.” “No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.” His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?” She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”

She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.

He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.

It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.

He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.

“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver's debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera. “Charles. Safe flight?” “Always. What do you have there?” “Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?” He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.

“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously. He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.” Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.” Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.

“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page. “The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says. “Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?” Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.

“Your engagement?” “Your what?” “Engaged?” “Impossible.” “Lies.”

The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.

“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it. He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.

When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.

“Is this real?” Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.” “You’re really engaged.” “Yes, Christian. I am.” The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?” “What?” “The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.” “No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption. The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.

“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice. “Yes.” “And I never believed you.” He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else's. “No.” Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.” “Thank you.” “But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?” Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”

They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.

Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“You alright?” She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.” Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.” “A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.

Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.

“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?” Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.” “It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max. “Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side. Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?” “Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him. Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.” “Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.” “Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles. “It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything. “Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” “It’s not.” She assures.

Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.

“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.” She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.” Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down. “Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it. She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.” A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.” Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.

It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.

“You told them you're a teacher.” “I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let's not make a big deal out of it.” “I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look. But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.” “So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?” Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”

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#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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vinvantae · 5 months

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How the current f1 grid would react coming home from a race to find you’d fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for them to come home.

So this is me trying to get back into the groove, hope you like it! All just a bit of fun 🥰

There’s now a part 2!

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Below the cut because I don’t want to flood your dash 💙💙

#1 Max Verstappen

Max’s reaction would be entirely dependent on when his last Redbull was. If he was feeling just as sleep deprived as you, he’d squeeze onto the sofa with you and snuggle up beside you - smiling to himself as you grumbled into his chest about how much you’d missed him before the two of you dozed off, both eventually waking up with sore backs. But if he’d thrown back his millionth Redbull on the plane, just to ensure he was awake enough to see you - he would for sure prod his fingers into your sides, tickling you until you were squealing for him to stop, the biggest shit eating grin on his face. Max Emillian! Get those hands off of me! Before he’d kiss you deeply, showing you just how much he’d missed you.

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#2. Logan Sargeant

After draping a blanket over you, he’d cosy himself up in the adjacent armchair and distract himself with the TV on quietly or something on his phone until you woke up. And as you groggily moved from the sofa to the armchair, curling yourself up in his lap - complaining that he should’ve woken you up, it’s been too long without you, he’d simply smile and kiss your forehead. He’d then listen to you yap away about what he’d missed while he was gone, but truthfully, even when you were asleep your company was enough, because even if he felt lonely on the grid sometimes - he never felt like that with you.

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#3. Daniel Ricciardo

Daniel would stand over your sleeping body for a few moments - torn between waking you up because he misses you or just letting you sleep a while. But feeling particularly selfish after not the best race, he’d crouch next to your face and gently stroke his thumb over your cheek whilst calling your pet name to get your attention. And seeing your eyes light up at the sigh of him, launching yourself from your comfy spot on the sofa into his arms would make him forget all his worries - even for just a minute. You’d kiss all over his face, making him laugh. G’day to you too, Sheila, miss me that much?

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#4. Lando Norris

He wouldn’t even get the chance to notice you sleeping, hollering out your name as he came through the front door - kicking off his shoes and dumping his suitcase too was more than plenty to wake you up. As he comes into the living room to see you sitting up and rubbing your eyes - he’d wince and apologise for waking you, I am sooooo sorry, babe. Am I forgiven?, before coming over to give you a kiss. But you’d smile, rolling your eyes playfully and say you wouldn’t have him any other way before hauling him down onto the couch to join you.

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#10. Pierre Gasly

Pierre is a needy boyfriend - of course he’d never admit it but you and anyone with a pair of eyes could see it. He craved your attention so waking you up was something he would do without even thinking - just to get a kiss. So when you feel the sofa dip and a warm hand come up to rest on your shoulder, you let your eyes flutter open to see him smiling down at you. Bonjour, mon amour, I’ve missed you. And as he leans down to kiss you, you can’t help but playfully rib him for waking you up just for an ounce of attention.

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#14. Fernando Alonso

You wouldn’t even realise he was home until he’d placed a mug of your favourite hot drink on the coffee table. He was so quiet on his feet that he had a habit of making you jump so when you heard the soft Mi Amor of your lover, you jolted awake. Nando, you’re home - why didn’t you wake me sooner? He’d simply smile and hand you your drink, saying he didn’t want to disturb you and that it gave him time to unpack. As you sit up to drink, he’d nestle himself beside you and drape an arm across your shoulders, before the two of you would fall into a conversation about his weekend.

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#16. Charles Leclerc

Charles endeared you like no one else - every time he came home late from a race weekend, determined not to wake you, he always found himself dropping something or accidentally closing a door too loud. He wanted to let you sleep but this time it was the jar of coffee and the tiled floor that were his biggest enemy. Most people would freak at the sound of breaking glass while they slept, but to you it was the sign your clumsy boyfriend was home. He’d apologise profusely as you stepped into the kitchen with a tired smile on your face but you’d simply step around the glass to take his face in your hands and kiss him, getting rid of any worry.

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#18. Lance Stroll

With a gentle touch to your knee and a soft whisper of your name, Lance would smile to himself as you stretched out and yawned - matching his smile as you sat up to hug him. Before he’d reach into his bag and pull out something he’d seen he knew you’d love. You’d always scold him for buying you things but there was nothing Lance loved more than picking you out something from each country he visited. And you could never stay mad when you opened it, your boyfriend was the most thoughtful gift giver and never had he put something tasteless in your lap. And boy, did he love reaping the reward.

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#20. Kevin Magnussen

Coming home to a quiet house was rare for Kevin, so when he did - the driver did everything in his power to keep it that way. Knowing you’d somehow got the kids to sleep despite his pending return home, it was not something worth risking. So when he found you asleep on the sofa, clearly in an attempt to wait up for him as evidenced by the half drunk cup of coffee and the book splayed across your chest, he’d slide his arms underneath you and take the two of you to bed. Your body so tired that you barely registered the movement, only curling up into his chest once his strong arms wrapped around you.

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#22. Yuki Tsunoda

It was usually the smell of something cooking that woke you, no matter the hour - Yuki could never resist whipping both of you up something delicious because the plane home always made him hungry. So as you padded to the kitchen to peer over his shoulder, what’s cooking good lookin’? He’d apologise for waking you but would offer you a taste of whatever delicious food he’d decided to make and that was more than enough of an apology. And once you were up, you could sit contently on the counter as he rambled away about his weekend.

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#23. Alex Albon

After taking various photos of you snoozing, including an awful 0.5x close up that you’d have to wrestle his phone out of his hand to stop him posting to instagram once you discovered it, he’d wedge himself in behind you and wrap his arms around you - pressing a kiss to your warm forehead. Missed you he’d whisper gonna put you in my pocket next time, bring you with me. His long fingers tracing up and down your spine as you pressed your cheek against his chest, just enjoying the feelings of his arms around you once again. Not quite ready to wake up but determined to make the most of your time with him.

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#24. Zhou Guanyu

Thankfully, Guanyu was always quiet on his feet - moving around your shared space like he was floating on air, laying your favourite fluffy blanket over your body before checking the house for any remaining chores. But of course you’d done them all, and well he had missed you, so disturbing you just enough to move your head onto his lap so he could stroke his fingers through your hair was his next move. Watching the way you almost purred and pushed into his touch. How long have you been back? He’d simply brush his finger down the slope of your nose. Not long, want to head up to bed? Be comfier there.

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#31. Esteban Ocon

Mon lapin? Where are you? Esteban cursed under his breath when he realised he’d woken you up by calling out - but the guilt faded when you smiled giddily at him. Estie, mon amour, come here. Your arms outstretched for the Frenchman, giggling with glee when he practically launched himself into your arms - showering your face with kisses. He always missed you endlessly when you couldn’t join him on a race weekend, FaceTime couldn’t compare to the feeling of having you wrapped up with him.

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#44. Lewis Hamilton

Lewis was almost shocked when you and Roscoe didn’t greet him at the door, you loved making sure the old pup was there to greet his Dad. But after gently pushing off his shoes, leaving his luggage to deal with later, he moved into the lounge to find you and the bulldog curled up together on the sofa - Roscoe’s large head on your chest, little tail wagging as soon as he laid eyes on Lewis. Hey buds, looking good! He’d whisper, giving him a scratch. You and Mama having a good nap, huh? He’d smile as you stretched your arms out above your head, his name leaving your lips softly before he lent down to kiss you. Let me make us some tea.

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#55. Carlos Sainz

Carlos always craved your touch, but when the two of you had to spend time apart - he felt like his skin was on fire. So as he stepped into your home and found you dozing on the sofa he couldn’t help but feel his shoulders slump for just a moment before kneeling beside you - letting his tanned fingers trace up the exposed skin of your legs. Corazón, I’m home. You blinked hard a few times to wake yourself up but before you could even think, his strong arms scooped you up and off the sofa. Carlos! You’d laugh, as he tossed you on the bed, crawling between your legs, his lips tugged into a smirk. I’ve been without you for too long, Mi Vida. Need you.

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#63. George Russell

You hadn’t even realised George was home, but when you woke up - both of you were dozing in bed, the Brit had moved you upstairs, somehow without waking you up. George, love? How come you didn’t wake me? His long arms would wind around you and pull you in close, nuzzling his face into your neck - warm breath fanning across your skin. You just looked so peaceful and I was tired so I thought we may as well just sleep. You hummed, pushing your fingers through his hair with a gentle smile on your face. I’ll let you off this once, missed you loads.

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#77. Valtteri Bottas

It was late when Valtteri got in, so he assumed you’d already be tucked up in bed - but when he saw you on the sofa, sleeping features illuminated by the soft glow of the table lamp he couldn’t help but feel a tug at his heartstrings at your effort to wait up for him. Carefully, he pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and laid it over you before putting out the candle you’d accidentally left burning, no wonder it smelt so good in here. But, he didn’t want you to wake up with a bad back in the morning so reluctantly, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. Hi, ready to go to bed? You hummed and kissed him softly. Tried to wait up for you. Val smiled and helped you to your feet, before the two of you headed upstairs for a good night's sleep.

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#81. Oscar Piastri

You’d been so excited when you got Oscar’s text that his plane had landed that you were determined to wait up for him - but before long you were out cold, a movie playing in the background and your phone discarded on the floor where it had slipped from your fingers. As he came in he could hear the tv so naturally assumed you were awake, so he would move quickly to get to you - only to find you fast asleep. Oscar smiled gently, picking your phone up off the floor and turning off the tv. He wanted to let you sleep but he’d missed you so dearly, and wanting nothing more than to hear your voice he decided to wake you. Oscar! You beamed, jumping into his arms - wrapping yourself around him. You’re here, you’re home! He nestled himself up in your arms, enjoying the warmth of your body against his - feeling the stress melt away. Definitely worth waking you up for.

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Hope y’all enjoyed this lil something

Didn’t write for Perez and Hulkenburg because I just don’t feel confident or comfortable doing so!

Thank u to @carsgonyoom @vetteltea and @danielfuckingricciardo for letting me annoy u with it first 💙

826 notes · View notes

obsessed-with-stardew · 19 days

Text

After His Show

After seeing the band play a gig in the city, you ride back to town on Seb’s motorcycle. But, you get a little distracted along the way…

Sebastian xF!Reader, Sebastian xAFAB!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names, semi-public sex, oral male receiving

AN: This fic can be read as a follow up to Under His Desk or as a stand alone. I have been on the motorcycle thirst trap side of the internet lately and I thought that perfectly aligned with a fic idea. I have never ridden a motorcycle so if my descriptions are inaccurate, I’m sorry :)

Wc: 4400

It was another fall day and you had just finished a harvest which meant one thing - it was time to pop into Pierre’s for some more seeds. You head down the road that leads into town trying to decide if you want to focus on artichokes or if you have enough time left in the season to plant some fairy roses. You’re so lost doing the mental calculations that you would’ve run into Sam if he hadn’t grabbed you by the arms.

“Look where you’re going, farmer! You could’ve made a dent in me,” he jokes, squeezing your biceps. “No, but for real you’re strong right?”

“Uh yeah, I guess I am?” you shrug.

“Well, we could use an extra roadie for the Goblin Destroyer show tomorrow night if you’re free,” he says. “I know Seb would be really happy if you were there.” Sam winks at you.

You flush, forgetting that Sam knows you and Seb have been fooling around since he almost walked in on the two of you. If you’d only grabbed your bra before hiding under Seb’s desk this embarrassment could’ve been avoided.

“Yeah, sure I don’t have any plans for tomorrow,” you say. “It would be cool to see y’all at a real gig and not just rehearsals.”

“Sweet! Okay, we’re meeting at the bus stop at 4, see you there,” Sam calls as he heads for home.

The next day you finish your chores around the farm as quickly as you can. You may be a roadie tonight, but you’re a groupie at heart and you want to look the part. When you’re satisfied that you look somewhere between halfway decent and slightly hot, you head for the bus stop.

As you approach, you see Seb leaving. You try to catch his eye but it’s clear his head is elsewhere. When you get to the bus stop, Abigail whistles at you.

“Damn girl, you clean up nice,” she exclaims. You hadn’t really had a chance to dress up for a night out since you moved to Pelican Town a few months ago.

“Thanks,” you laugh. “You look great too, very punk rock.”

“Dude I wear this outfit literally all the time, but thanks,” she laughs.

You help load the rest of the equipment, looking around every now and then hoping to see Seb. By the time all of the gear is loaded, Sebastian still hasn’t appeared. You see Sam lingering by the doors to the bus.

“Hey Sam, is Seb… I mean I saw him heading to town when I got here and we’re about to leave,” you trail off.

“Oh yeah, he had to help his mom with something, he said he’ll meet us there,” Sam replies.

Disappointed, you board the bus behind Sam.

The ride to the venue goes by faster than you expected, and you spend the whole time laughing and joking with Sam and Abigail. Upon arrival you jump into your role as a roadie, unloading gear off the bus with the same focus you use to plant or harvest crops. When everything is set up, you head outside for a smoke break. You’ve always smoked off and on, but since hanging around Seb the habit has admittedly gotten a bit worse.

Searching your pockets for a lighter, you come up empty. You wish Seb was there, he always has one on him. As if in answer to your prayers you hear a motorcycle nearing. Looking up, you see Seb riding towards you. You had to focus to keep your mouth from falling open. Sure you’d seen him working on the bike and that was objectively hot, but seeing him ride up on it was another thing entirely. You weren’t sure if it was the confidence he rode with, but even with his face obscured by the helmet he looked sexy.

Seb pulled the bike up right next to you. He was surprised he parked straight because he had been looking only at you since he entered the lot. Seb knew you were going to be there tonight, but damn he didn’t know you were going to look this good all dressed up in black. He knows that it’s the traditional color crew wears, but he hopes you considered his reaction as you picked out your outfit - the thought makes him blush. Those tight black jeans seem to hug every curve and your top is cut just low enough to get his heart racing.

Sebastian pulls off his helmet and runs a hand through his dark hair.

“Need a light?” he asks, nodding toward the unlit cig in between your fingers.

“Yeah, your timing is perfect,” you say, as Seb dismounts the motorcycle and pulls a lighter from his pocket.

You lean forward, breathing in as he lights the tip of your cigarette.

“Sounds like you were missing me,” he teases, plucking the cig from your fingers to take a drag.

“Missing you or just your lighter, who’s to say,” you retort.

Seb offers the cig back to you, instead of taking it, you lean forward making eye contact as you take a drag while it’s still between his fingers, lips brushing his digits. Seb’s cock twitches at your brazen flirtation and he huffs out a laugh. Damn, you really know how to get him going.

Seb grabs your hand and pulls it up to his mouth. He kisses the inside of your wrist, causing you to draw in a ragged breath.

“Well I missed you, y/n…” he whispers against your wrist.

You can’t think beyond his admission and his breath dancing across your sensitive skin. It makes your heart race and you’re certain he can feel your pulse quicken under his soft touch.

“Are you sure you haven’t missed me too?” he teases, pulling your body flush with his. Seb’s other hand captures your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his - the cherry of your cig reflected in his blown-out pupils.

“You can tell me, baby,” he coos. “I know how to keep a secret.”

The back door to the venue opens with a bang.

“Yo Seb, you out here?” Sam’s voice calls. “It’s time for the final soundcheck!”

“Yeah man, I’ll be there in a minute,” Seb shouts back, not taking his eyes from yours.

Without warning, he pushes you back against the wall of the building, lips locking with yours, cigarette dropped forgotten on the pavement.

His hand travels to your waistband, fingers skillfully popping the button of your jeans.

“Seb what are you doing??” you hiss. “Someone will see us!”

“Not if I’m quick,” he promises with a wink.

Undoing your zipper, his long fingers find their way to your underwear. A moan escapes your lips as he brushes over the wet cloth barely covering your pussy. Seb is quick to capture the sound with his mouth.

When you quiet he whispers in your ear, “Can’t believe how wet you are for me already sweetheart.”

Gently he runs a finger through your folds under the fabric. You gasp, struggling to remain silent. Seb plunges the finger deep into your hole, covering your mouth with his other hand to keep you from crying out.

He pumps his finger into you a few times, just enough to make you ready to beg for more when he removes his digit from you, bringing it to his lips. Watching Seb suck your juice from his finger causes your walls to clench around nothing - you can’t get over how hot and bothered this man makes you.

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanted a taste. Let’s call it a good luck charm,” Seb chuckles. “C’mon, they’ll be wondering where we are.”

As Sebastian heads onstage for sound check you grab a drink from the bar and join the waiting crowd. You’re not in the first row but you don’t mind. Positioning yourself in front of the keyboard, you look around, shocked by the number of unfamiliar faces at the show. The second the lights go down and the band takes the stage, there’s a palpable shift in the energy. Sure you’d been to rehearsals and a couple of local shows, but seeing the guys and Abby on a stage in the city, they look like they belong up there.

Seb had played it cool in front of you, but as he walks onto the stage he can feel his hands begin to shake. Shit, this is the biggest crowd they’ve ever had. He can NOT fuck it up now. Positioning himself behind his keyboards, Seb blinks through the spotlights to the sea of faces. Well maybe not a sea, but it’s a decent-sized lake. As soon as his eyes adjust, he sees you. He’d recognize your smile and bright eyes anywhere. He’s always nervous for shows, but locking eyes with you, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You mouth “you got this” and blow him a kiss. God you’re so cute, he thinks, shaking his head to himself as his heart swells.

Abby starts the count-off with her drumsticks and muscle memory kicks in. Seb loses himself in the music as he always does. Forgetting he’s on a stage in front of a crowd of strangers, his fingers know just where to go. As the first set ends Seb slowly comes out of his daze, guided by Sam’s voice distantly addressing the crowd.

“We are Goblin Destroyers, thanks for coming out tonight!” Sam shouts as the crowd cheers. He introduces the band, and as you hear him say “...and on the keys we have Sebastian!” a huge cheer erupts from the audience. It’s a little too big of a cheer for your liking, and you can see Seb trying to hide his flushed face behind his dark fringe. You feel a sudden surge of jealousy and mentally kick yourself for not having marked Seb’s neck with your lips and teeth before the show. You’ll have to remember that next time.

The music starts back up and you surrender yourself to the sound. The bass thrums in your chest and your eyes are glued to Sebastian. You love watching him play. It’s as if all his worries melt away leaving just Seb and the music. It’s so hot to see him this way, totally raw - the mask he usually keeps up between himself and the world is replaced by a look of utter calm.

The only other time you’ve seen him like that is when he’s inside of you. Watching his fingers expertly fly across the keys sends a shiver down your spine as you remember where they were just an hour before. You try to keep your lust at bay and enjoy the show, but the only music you want to hear now are the sweet groans from Seb’s lips as he fucks you.

After a few more songs, the show is over and people begin filtering out of the venue. You head backstage to help pack up when a hand grabs your arm and pulls you into a dark corner. Just as you open your mouth to shout, Seb slots his lips between yours for a devastating kiss, full of tongue and teeth and the adrenaline high he still has from the gig. You pull back for breath and punch him in the arm.

“Ow, what was that for?” he asks rubbing where you struck him.

“For making me think I was getting kidnapped,” you laugh, putting your hands around his neck. Leaning up, you whisper into his ear, “You looked really hot up there,” and you take his lobe between your teeth. Seb lets out a soft groan and cups your ass in his hands.

“Ahem,” Abigail clears her throat.

The two of you freeze, debating whether it’s too late to pretend you were doing something, anything more innocent than what she’s seen.

“Oh my god, chill out you two,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re fucking, Sam called me as soon as he left your little sex pad.”

You burst out laughing and Seb says, “Ew, Abs don’t call my room a ‘sex pad’.”

“Whatever, will y’all just help pack up the gear?”

You turn to leave, but Seb pulls you in for another quick kiss.

“If everyone knows, I might as well show you off,” he says with a wink before walking away.

Packing up is quick work and before you know it everyone is piling into the bus.

“You want the same spot?” Abigail asks.

“Oh um actually Seb said he’d give me a ride back….” you say.

“Ah, I get it. You two drive safe and use protection,” She says, closing the last door on the equipment storage.

You flush and stammer, “wha- we won’t uh-”

“Oh my god wear a helmet, dumbass,” Abigail laughs, punching you lightly in the arm as she heads for the bus.

You make a final sweep of the venue to make sure nothing is left behind. Emerging into the parking lot you see Sebastian, leaning against his bike. The lone streetlight above like another spotlight, and he’s putting on a show just for you. Seb’s lips curve into a soft smile as takes a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls up around him, obscuring all of his features except his gleaming eyes that track you as you approach. All his.

Finally alone, the desire that has built up over the course of the night threatens to overtake you right here in the parking lot. You reach for him as Seb puts an arm around your waist pulling you close. He leans down, kissing up your neck to your ear.

“Did you get all dressed up in black just for me?” he whispers, nipping at the sensitive shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath.

“All for you Sebby,” you sigh.

His cock hardens from both the nickname and your admission. He pulls your body flush with his. You gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against you.

“Let's get you home sweetheart, there’s so much I want to do to you,” Sebastian growls into your ear.

Taking one last drag from his cig, he drops it to the pavement putting it out with a twist of his foot. Seb reaches behind his back and produces two helmets. He hands you the smaller one.

“I thought you only had the one helmet,” you tease.

“Gotta keep my girl safe,” he says with a wink.

The two of you put on the helmets, and you watch as Seb straddles the bike. Ugh, he looks so hot, something about the helmet covering his features, only his neck exposed, really gets you turned on. He starts the bike and revs the engine. Seb reaches out a hand to you and you take it, straddling the bike behind him, you wrap your arms around his stomach. He reaches back, running his hand down your thigh, giving you a quick squeeze. And then you’re off.

God, you feel so good nestled behind him. Your arms hold him in a tight hug as your thighs squeeze him. Fuck he loves your legs and with your tits pressing into his back, he’s in heaven. Seb has always loved taking his bike out, he feels so free flying down the quiet highway under the stars.

His heart swells at the trust you place in him, to keep you safe as the two of you speed through the empty streets. He hopes you’re having a good time too when he feels you lean back and let out a whoop into the night air. Seb laughs and does the same. When he’s with you, it’s like gravity’s endless weight is lifted and he can dream again. You must sense this because you squeeze him tighter for a moment.

Something no one ever told you about riding a motorcycle is that it’s basically one giant vibrating seat. And with your arms around the man you’re planning to fuck the second this ride is over, the sensation is making you extremely horny. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs and you try to adjust your position to get the vibration right where you want it. Seb must think you’re uncomfortable because the moment you shift his hand reaches back to squeeze your thigh again.

His worry for you makes you determined to let him know just how good you feel. You start to move one hand, running it down his stomach. Seb returns his hand to the handlebar, thinking your touch is to reassure him, but you aren’t done. Your fingers drift downward, searching and finding. His cock stiffens and his hands clench the handles. You give him a rough squeeze through his jeans and he lets out a groan barely audible through the sound of the wind. You tug on his length as you rock your hips on the seat.

Closing your eyes you begin a slow pace of jacking him off over his jeans and grinding your pussy into the vibrations. You’re so lost in seeking your pleasure that you don’t notice Seb has turned off the highway until the motor cuts off. You whine at the lack of vibration, not fully comprehending what’s happening until Seb pulls you off the bike. His helmet is still on but his visor is open. You can see the desire flashing in his eyes.

“My needy girl, couldn’t wait to finish the ride before needing my cock,” he growls.

“I- I didn’t mean to…” you whimper as Seb pulls off his helmet, and runs his hand through his hair.

“What am I gonna do with you,” he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

Setting down the helmet, Seb circles the bike. You take off your helmet, shaking out your hair. He drinks in the sight of you, the moonlight shining off your hair, the desperate look in your eyes, the way your black clothes cling to you and how he wants to peel them off. He pauses in front of you, hand palming his now aching erection. Your gaze is glued to that hand, taunting you.

Seb undoes his belt buckle, pops the button on his jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper. Watching you squirm with every small movement, he could do this for hours, basking in your hungry gaze knowing that you want him just as much as he wants you. But he won’t keep you waiting. He eases his cock out, hissing as the cool night air trails over his hot length.

“On your knees baby.”

You oblige instantly, he chuckles at your obedience.

“That’s a good girl,” he growls.

He shudders as you grab him, pressing a light kiss to his tip before you flick your tongue along the slit dripping with precum. And when your warm, wet mouth wraps around his length he has to stop himself from thrusting into the back of your throat. You take your time, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your hand until he can’t take it anymore.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and rocks his hips forward. Forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. The feeling of your tongue on the underside and the light scrape of your teeth on top force out a groan from deep within his chest. His eyes lock on yours, so full of tears just waiting to spill out. He thrusts a few more times, relishing in the feeling of his balls hitting your chin. When your throat squeezes him as you choke on his cock, he swears if he died right now at least he’d die happy.

And as much as he craves to chase his own pleasure and pump his seed into your waiting mouth, he has to make sure you’re okay. Pulling his dripping length from your lips, Seb crouches down to cup your face in his hands. You cough and take in a few ragged breaths before meeting his gaze. He strokes your cheek, “such a good girl for me” he sighs pulling you in for a searing kiss.

“Up you go,” he says, pushing you up to standing. You lean back against the parked bike, not trusting your legs to hold you. Now it’s your turn to look down at Seb, even though you know you have tear streaks on your face and drool on your chin, his eyes are full of adoration. It’s so cute you don’t know if you want to laugh or to cry.

He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your thighs. Then his fingers catch the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough for him to press a soft kiss to your stomach. He grabs the waist of your jeans, eagerly undoing the button and zipper he pulls them down to reveal your black panties. This pair has a little bow just below the waistband like you’re a present that’s his to unwrap. He stands slowly, moving his hands from your waist to cup your breasts.

He kisses you softly then whispers in your, “Turn around for me baby.”

You do, bracing yourself against the bike. He softly touches your ass. It’s fully on display, framed by the lacy black straps of your thong. He growls, slapping your soft flesh. You let out a moan as the cool night breeze instantly soothes the sting. Seb cups your pussy and chuckles when he feels the hot wet crotch of your panties.

“If I knew you’d like the bike so much, I would’ve put you on it ages ago,” he teases, pulling the fabric to the side.

He teases your slit with a long finger, dragging it through your folds to lightly flick your clit. You gasp and arch your back. Fuck he loves how responsive you are, every touch eliciting a reaction. He plunges two fingers into you, pumping his cock at the same pace. He gets lost in watching his digits disappear into your warm, wet hole.

“M-more Seb, please,” you whine, pulling him from his trance. Before you register the loss of his fingers, the tip of his cock is already teasing your folds. You moan, pushing your hips back.

Seb chuckles. “Is my sweet girl ready for my cock?” he asks under his breath.

He knows the answer is yes, he knows you’ve been ready since before the show, but he likes making you wait. Teasing you until his cock is the only thing that could make you feel better. He notches his length at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You groan, finally getting what you’ve been craving for days. Your toys at home can’t compare to this feeling. Being filled and fucked by your man.

He slowly enters you until his entire length is sheathed inside your perfect pussy. Your walls clench around him causing his breathing to turn ragged. His grip on your hips tightens, as he eases out of you until just his tip is inside of you. Then without warning, he shoves all the way back in. You cry out, arching your back and Seb knows he’s hit the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He thrusts into you again and again, fingers leaving bruises on your flesh as he steers you closer and closer to orgasm. Your walls squeeze him tighter and he knows you’re close.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, “Cum for me, you can do it.”

And you do, expletives and his name string together in a chant that he’s sure could raise him from the dead as you cum around his cock. He follows you over that cliff, pushing as deep as he’s able, sealing his body with yours as tightly as he can. If two souls could join, it must feel like this, he thinks as he empties himself into you.

The two of you stay in this position, you draped over the motorcycle like Seb’s wet dream and Seb still inside you, head hung low, trying to keep his legs from giving out as he decides if he ever wants to move again. And then your pussy flutters around his length and he’s sure if he doesn’t pull out now he’ll die from the overstimulation. Easing his cock from you he watches entranced as his seed drips out of you.

He’s never wanted kids but his mind is suddenly filled with images of your belly swollen as his child grows inside of you. He flushes and his cock twitches painfully at the thought. He pushes that desire down, your relationship (if you can even call it that) is so new, he’ll do anything to keep from scaring you away.

Carefully, he covers your dripping pussy with the thin strap of fabric that is your thong. You groan and wiggle your hips as he rubs you through the fabric. Seb slaps your bare ass, huffing out a laugh at your little yelp. After tucking his cock away and pulling on his jeans, Seb helps you up and turns you around. Leaning against his bike, he pulls you into his arms kissing the top of your head and breathing in the smell of your hair. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his neck.

His heart is so full he fears it might burst. You pull back to see his face, the look in his eyes is so tender, so loving you have to hold back tears. You slide your hands behind his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The kiss is long, full of hope and passion and all the things you are too nervous to say.

Pulling away from the kiss, Seb squeezes your still-exposed ass. “Let’s put this away before you tempt me to go again,” he says pulling up your jeans. You giggle, buttoning your pants. When you look up Seb is back on the bike, his arm extended toward you with helmet in hand.

“What do you say, baby, let’s keep this adventure going?” he asks, hoping you understand the weight of his words. You know that after tonight, your heart is his whether he knows it yet or not. You take the helmet and climb onto the bike behind him. You whisper into his ear, “Lead the way Sebby,” and set the helmet on your head. He starts up to engine and with a whoop, the two of you speed off into the night.

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landonorizzz · 4 months

Text

SUMMARY: pierre is not the boyfriend of the year that everyone thought. his girlfriend is left to fend for herself, fourtunately she seems to have good people in her corner PAIRING: pierre gasly x ex! fem! ferrari media team! oc , [redacted] x fem! ferrari media team! oc (no faceclaim) WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, cursing A/N: this is my first one, it was supposed to be y/n BUT i just didn't like how it looked? idk, i needed to have a name so everyone meet Marceline ;))

masterlist | next

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and others

marcilazzaro1 new day, new city! explored zandvoort today before coming back for media duties ;)

(charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 i am watching you, do not make my life harder this week)

see all comments...

carlandoo333 she's so mother i can't

pierregasly so i don't get credit for the photos?

↳ marcilazzaro1 everyone knows you're my personal photographer love

pierregasly belle, mon ange 🤍

↳ marcilazzaro1 grazie 🤍

↳ ilpredestinatox I JUST WANT EHAT THEY HAVE

babygirll oh no! i was at that caffè today, i can't believe i missed them!

maxverstappen1 they can't stop themselves, it's in their blood

↳ marcilazzaro1 maybe if you stopped distracting a certain someone during his interviews he'd actually do a good job

↳maxverstappen1 eh

lilymhe are we still on for drinks after FP2?

↳ marcilazzaro1 lily, love of my life, of course we are

↳ alexalbon excuse me? i'm the boyfriend here

↳ marcilazzaro1 not for long now albono ;)

sheilaxf1 I'm so here for lily and marci being the ultimate girlfriends

↳ landoscar814 they are iconic

charles_leclerc when have i ever made your life difficult

↳ marcilazzaro1 you want that alphabetically or chronologically??

marcilazzaro1 added to their story!

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and others

marcilazzaro1 and that's another podium in the bag! bébé i am so proud of you, you have no idea. my heat speeds up every time i see your happy smile, every time i feel like i'm drunk on the champagne with you 🥂 here's to many more, i love you completely 🤍

see all comments...

pierregasly it's a pleasure to share this journey with you mon ange, i can't wait for the next chapter 🤍

↳ marcilazzaro1 🤍🥂

sundaylover okay whos cutting up onions and shit

hammertime_1 oh yeah she is in looooovee love

maxverstappen1 what about my podium?

↳ marcilazzaro1 redbull is spoiling you enough and j already texted you, stop fishing

↳ cuddlyxricc i absolutely love their friendship

↳ byelandoo right?? i feel like she's the only media person he doesn't automatically hate ↳ cuddlyxricc the fact that she's works for ferrari and not redbull makes it even funnier i swear ↳ byelandoo christian is having an aneurysm as we speak

danielricciardo see you at the after party (you have to convince him to do a shoey)

↳ marcilazzaro1 ah, i fear that i will not make it to the party, i still have work to do daniel ;) but you guys enjoy yourselves. and watch out for the hand please, will you?

elplanxincoming am i the only one or was Pierre's comment kinda weak after the WHOLE PARAGRAPH she wrote??

↳ sunshine_dr3 god i didn't want to say anything but yeah, it feels forced almost

ilpredestinatox the story is definitely working, Charles looks so good i don't even remember the race

marci's messages

Marci: where are you? are you still at the party?

Esteban: No.

Esteban: Me, Lance and Mick are all in my room.

Marci: Can I come?

Esteban: Aren't you supposed to be surprising your boyfriend?

Marci: I guess I already did.

Marci: I already packed my stuff, I don't really have anywhere to go. Ferrari doesn't have the extra room for me this weekend and the hotel is packed.

Esteban: Merde, Marci. Of course you can come here, I'll even let you have the bed.

Marci: Thank you, Este.

PF: That's all I have.

PF: For what it's worth, I really am sorry that this hapened.

Marci: Still, you ALL lied to me and treated me like an idiot.

Marci: So really, your "sorry" doesn't mean shit now, does it?

PF: Why do you think I took those photos?

PF: I wanted to tell you. So many times.

Marci: Why didn't you then?

PF: I'm sorry.

Marci: You know what, fuck you.

Marci: You're lucky I didn't expose all of you. You all knew what he was doing and none of you said anything. That's fucked and you know it.

marcilazzaro1 added to their story!

marci's messages:

Pierre: Baby, what's going on?

Pierre: Where are you?

Marci: Why, is your friend already gone? What, didn't stay the night?

Pierre: What are you talking about?

Marci: Spare me, Pierre. You know exacly what I'm talking about.

Marci: If you need a reminder I'm sure that twitter's ready to jog your memory.

Pierre: What the fuck Marceline

Pierre: What the hell did you do?!

Pierre: Merde

Pierre: Are you actually insane?? This is a PR nightmare, you KNOW this

Pierre: You have to delete those

Marci: Oh yeah, I don't think so.

Marci: I already apologized to your media team for the chaos, I ain't deleting shit.

Pierre: You're a bitch, Marceline

Marci: Fuck you, you absolute scumbag.

Adam: You get a week of PTO

Adam: It's a non-negotiable order from upstairs so, yeah. See you next week. Go relax, wind down. Heal.

Adam: We're all sorry that this happened to you, the media team is standing with you.

Marci: Thank you, Adam.

Marci: Also, what does "upstairs" mean?

Adam: Fred's orders.

liked by sebastianvettel, lance_stroll and others

marcilazzaro1 some much needed home time on the big boss' orders ;)) thank you for your kind words and support, see you soon everyone.

see all comments...

charlies_sun we're all with you marci 🤍

scuderiaferrari Big boss says to rest up and come back stronger!

↳marcilazzaro1 got it 🤠

↳ilpredestinatox this is so sweet

sheilaxf1 i just don't understand how could he do this to her

↳hammertime_1 RIGHTT???

danielricciardo the personalised dart board and dr3 wine are already on their way

↳marcilazzaro1 thank you Daniel! it's much appreciated

danielricciardo everybody loves a farm girl 🤠

↳marcilazzaro1 do they now?

↳lestappen116 are they...... flirting?

↳ilpredestinatox GIRL, bfr her and pierre JUST broke up, besides idk, i've always had a feeling that he gives her the ick? idk

sundaylover how does she look so GOOD??

↳carlando333 she's so mother i can't-

michael_44 oh boo hoo, she's been cheated on. that's no reason to slack off on her work

↳elplanxincoming oh fuck off

maxverstappen1 there might be an incident at T1 at Monza, just say the word

↳marcilazzaro1 thank you maxie, but that won't ne nessecary 🧡

brunolazzaro03 good to have you home, even if you're stealing all my ice cream

↳marcilazzaro1 come on, mum said i can have them

redleclerc_ the fact that Charles hasn't commented is deeply upsetting to me

↳ quickstappen i meann.... not surprising considering it's his best friend we're talking about

marci's message:

Claire: Hello, this is Claire. We spoke on instagram.

Marci: Yes, we did. Im Marceline.

Claire: I know.

Claire: Look, I'm sorry that this happened.

Claire: I really am.

Marci: Stop please

Marci: Can you just explain it to me from the beginning?

Claire: Yeah, sure. Of course.

Claire: I met Pierre at a party in Milan that I went to with my friends.

Marci: When was that?

Claire: Last June

Claire: I think.

Marci: Okay

Claire: I'm sorry.

Claire: Anyway, we met and he was really shocked that I didn't know who he was. And I really HAD no idea who he was.

Claire: He said he worked in motorsports, I've never qustioned it and never tried to search for him.

Marci: Why didn't you look for him?

Claire: Honestly? I didn't care enough. For me it was just sex.

Claire: I didn't even know his last name. Just had his phone number.

Marci: And you met up multiple times?

Claire: Yeah, whenever he was in Milan. I swear I didn't know he had a girlfriend. He said he was single when we first met.

Marci: Well, we started dating in 2019 so... he definitely wasn't.

Claire: I am so sorry Marceline.

Claire: I found out about you from twitter. There was this hashtag trending and suddenly there was this picture of me plastered all over my timeline.

Claire: I've tried to understand what's going on, and I found out I've been screwing someone's boyfriend for the last year. God I'm so disgusted with myself.

Marci: Don't be, please.

Claire: I swear I wouldn't get with him if I knew that he was taken.

Marci: I don't blame you Claire. Any of you. It's not like you MADE him do it.

Marci: Thank you for contacting me, serioulsy.

Claire: It's the least I could do, I didn't see another option.

Claire: Text me whenever you need and I'll try to shine some light on things.

madi's radio: hello, that's a first smau in a series, so if you want to be notified about the next parts just dm me, i'll set something more efficient up later ;))

click here to be added to the carved my name taglist!

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

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uluvjay · 3 months

Text

Exile-C. Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x ex girlfriend! Reader

I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending

Warnings?; angst, being forced into a secret relationship, self doubt, crying, club scene, i apologize for any errors i made!

Charles could feel his breath get stuck in his throat as his eyes caught sight of your flowing hair and glowing skin, your body hanging off of a tall and fit gentleman.

“Dude what-oh..” Pierre winced as his eyes found what his best friend was locked on.

“I-it’s been three months and she’s here with another guy, feels like it took her five minutes to forget me..forget about us.” He breathed.

“He’s probably just a rebound dude, plus things didn’t really end that well for you two…” pierre trailed as he placed a hand on his friends shoulder and directed him away from you.

Charles shook his head with a scoff at the thought of the night you ended things with him, you had never shown signs of being unhappy or wanting to leave which is why the boy was more than confused when he returned from a phone call with his team to find you crying and packing your bags.

You never returned any of his calls or texts eventually blocking him on all forms of communication and telling your friends to do the same, even Kika.

Speaking of the girl he watched as she made her way back from the bathroom, slipping her small frame under Pierre’s arm; distracting him enough for Charles to make a break in your direction.

His eyes followed your body in that little black dress you wore as you walked to the bar and he wasted no time following and sliding into the spot right next to you.

You could feel him before he even spoke, the richness of his cologne filling your senses while his strong arm brushed against yours.

Your heart picked up at his presence, jumping like it was trying to get to him but your brain was screaming at you to turn around and walk out of that club.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He spoke first, his voice was soft but you could hear the sarcasm dripping in it.

“It’s a popular club and Monaco’s a small place.” You shrugged, cursing internally at the way your voice came out shaky.

“Who’s your boy toy?” He scoffed turning to catch a look at the guy again.

“None of your business.”

You finally looked at him this time, your eyes locking with his deep ones. Your stomach dropped as you thought back to the last time you looked into them, right before you shut the front door of his apartment and never looked back.

“He’s probably just using you, you know that right?” He laughed.

“And so what if he is? I’m not your problem anymore Charles, I can do whatever and whoever I want.” You spat before turning on your heals and heading straight for the back exit of the club.

However you weren’t fast enough to shake him as you heard his heavy footsteps close behind you and the second you made it outside a hand clasped around your wrist, pulling you back into his hard chest.

“You were never a problem, the only problem was you walking out on me and never giving me an explanation.” He spat, eyes burning into yours.

Charles jumped at the laugh that escaped from your throat, confusion clouding his face as the genuine sounds filled the quiet air.

“What are you laughing for? This isn’t funny Y/n.”

“You really think I just left? You’re more clueless than I thought.” You scoffed, pulling your wrist from his hold as you took a few steps back.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He questioned even more confused than before.

“You didn’t see all the signs I was trying to give? How I tried showing you again and again I was unhappy being your little secret? How sick I was of your team constantly referring to me as your problem?.” You scoffed.

“What signs Y/n!? You never said anything and news flash I’m not a mind reader.” He scoffed.

“I tried Charles! I tried so many fucking times and you always brushed me away. So I thought that if I would begin to distance myself or turn down dates and movie nights you would notice how I was feeling and ask me about it, but you never did.” You sobbed this time remembering how shitty you felt those days, how you would fight to get out of bed and put a smile on for him and your friends.

“I never knew you were that miserable Y/n, you should have forced me to sit down and listen to you. I’m sorry that I made you feel that way because I did and still do love you, so much.” He tried as he reached out for you.

You pushed his hands away as you stepped back doing your best to put more distance between you two.

“Of course you didn’t.” You scoffed as you wiped away some of your tears.

Strings tugged at Charles heart at the sight of the tears spilling down your face, wanting nothing more than to reach out and wipe them but he knew he couldn’t.

He thought back on your words and it clicked for him this time, he finally realized your tired and small efforts towards the end, how you would spend most of your days locked away unless someone really needed you, and he felt like a piece of shit for never noticing.

“I really am sorry Y/n, I wish I could’ve seen the signs, I shouldn’t have kept you a secret like they told me to because you deserved much better then that, I should have been telling everyone how much of a magnificent woman you are not hiding you.” He breathed.

“I’m glad you’ve realized that char but it’s too late now.” You smiled pitifully.

“No Y/n please let me make this right, let me show the world how amazing of a woman you are, let me cherish you and treat you right this time. Please.” He begged.

“I’m sorry Charles but I’ve seen this film before and I really, really didn’t like the ending.” You cried, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek softly before placing a small kiss to the skin.

“Goodbye Charles.” You breathed.

“See you later Amore.” He spoke lowly.

You smiled at his attempt to hang on and not fully let go but it was time for you to, you needed to grow and become a better you and Charles was no longer apart of that journey.

You gave his pretty eyes one more look before stepping back and hurrying down the alley behind the club.

Charles watch as your frame got smaller and smaller, standing in the same spot even after he watched you enter the cab and look back at him one more time.

And in that moment he realized you could still be his, all he had to do was read the signs.

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #formula one fic #formula one #formula 1 #f1blr #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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burningstrangerkingdom · 10 months

Text

Jealousy

Charles Leclerc x reader Summary: It's not that easy to date one of the most handsome faces in the world. Notes: Based on the song Pienso en tu mirá - Rosalia

Jealousy was not in your nature for the simple reason that you had researched too much about it, as well as to understand that this feeling is the first step needed to transform a beautiful relationship into a toxic and inhospitable environment, you had read it in various sources and had reinforced it through the experiences of your friends.

Even so, and although you gave everything of yourself to avoid it, a terrible feeling of fear flooded your being every time Charles walked out the door, fortunately for you the gesture you made to want to hold him a few more moments before leaving, far from seeming invasive she found it adorable.

Once again, Charles left his apartment, this time heading towards the golf course where his brothers, Pierre and Joris were already waiting for him to spend a relaxing afternoon with the boys.

"See you later, chérie", he said goodbye, leaving a small kiss on your lips.

As usual, you joined hands when he kissed you and, as usual, when you had to separate for him to continue on his way, you hesitaded letting him go.

"What's wrong, mon cour?" He said with a little smile.

"About what?" You ask, pretending you don't understand what he meant.

"This", he pointed to your index finger still clinging to the palm of his left hand.

"Nah, it's just silly", you gave him a reassuring smile that didn't serve it's purpose.

"No, it's not silly, it must mean something, and I'm not complaining. I really like feeling your love, but it's something I've been noticing a lot lately and I want you to know that you can tell me anything."

"I don't want you to be late for the boys, you go with them and when you return I'll tell you", trying to distract him you started to play with the rings on his fingers.

He pretended to think about it but he turned around and sat on the sofa making you sit on him, "Don't leave me wondering, Y/N, tell me please", he said now more seriously and the look on his eyes gave you no choice but to speak your mind right away, those gorgeous eyes always did their trick on you.

You let out a breath and whispered "I'm scared, Charles."

Suddenly the smile on his face faded and his place was taken by a frown of concern. "Scared of what, Y/N?"

With your eyes closed, you let out another sigh and then looked directly into his eyes as you placed one of your hands on his heart and the other intertwined with his fingers, "That one of the times you go out you don't come back to me, Charles. I'm afraid of the effect that your angelic appearance causes on others, and don't get me wrong, I don't intend to lock you up by my side forever and I love your independence, it's not that I doubt the love you have for me… it's just that all these feelings are so new to me, I've never experienced them with anyone else."

Your eyes were glossy as you let out those overwhelmed thoughts that rounded on your mind, "I'm jealous, Charles, a kind of jealousy that comes more from envy of everyone and everything, of people who see you from afar even when you walk together me, the water that runs through your body even when we take showers together, the fraction of a second in which a morning craving takes over your mind, everything, Charles. Even if I try to limit myself, I can't help but want to be everything to you , and I'm afraid that maybe this will make you walk away from me forever."

He listened attentively to those thoughts and feelings that torment you and, by the time you completely removed them from your chest, he raised your clasped hands and deposited a series of kisses on your knuckles.

"I understand what you're saying, mon âme", your hopeful gaze looked at him more intensely, "I understand you because I feel that way about you too, it's just that I'm not good enough to put it into words just like you just did, so I thank you for translating my mind and for loving me the same way that I love you… And I want you to know that there is nothing wrong with feeling as intensely as we both do, I know that right now society seeks to balance everything it can to make it more pragmatic, but we are talking about feelings, our feelings. And for me it is important that you know that in our relationship we can be ourselves, we do not have to limit ourselves in any way."

At the end of their confessions, you both had tears running down your cheeks, however, none of you rushed to get rid of them as had happened on previous occasions, since this time those tears would not come from negative feelings but from an excess of love that flooded your hearts. seeing its opportunity to come out in watery form.

"I love you so much Charles Marc Hervé Leclerc".

He poured all his love for you in a breathtaking kiss that made you feel the purest places of his soul.

"I love you so much Y/N".

Thank you so much for reading, any kind of interaction is highly apreciated

#f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #formula 1 x you #f1 imagines #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x y/n

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hallowedmistress · 2 months

Text

stardew sexuality hcs!

bachelors + bachelorettes

alex

definitely gay

grew up in a homophobic, religious family

first time he saw gay people was on tv on a news program about same-sex marriage being legalised

george immediately turned it off in disdain and evelyn distracted him with some food, but the thought lingered at the back of his mind

as he grows up, he collects sports magazines. more often with lean, muscular men on the covers than not

he suppresses it for years but it comes to a head when the cute new farmer moves in

and the rest is history

elliott

homoflexible

knew he was into men since he was very young

his family wasn't pleased to say the least. their only son, gay and a writer? the blasphemy.

didn't dare confess to any of his childhood crushes because he grew up in a pretty old fashioned area

instead wrote letters and stuffed them into used cans and threw them into the sea

lived in zuzu city for a short while before moving to stardew valley, had a relatively unhealthy lifestyle of drinking and hookups and no sleep. the cabin on the beach helped with his insomnia

very rarely attracted to women; usually into the type of women who mistake him for a lesbian

sam

unlabelled

leans more towards men

vincent called him weird at first but wrapped his head around it pretty quick

jodi doesn't talk about it but she just wants him to be happy and not hide any part of himself

kent absolutely flips when sam brings the farmer, his boyfriend, over

they make it work. kent warms up to the farmer, and the strict military rules drilled into his head slowly come undone

he reluctantly tells sebastian he likes guys at the saloon one night while abigail isn't around. sebastian just says 'huh', and beats him at pool.

sebastian

queer, on the aromantic spectrum

never really thought about romance. he has enough to deal with by himself, why should he want someone else?

has a little crush on sam when they're kids

only realises it was romantic when sam tells him that he likes guys. and sebastian realises oh, i can do that.

he doesn't really tell anyone but he blurts it out to his mother one afternoon

robin is supportive, and curious at first

demetrius... doesn't say much.

after kissing sam for a dare, he huddles inside a blanket with a red face for a whole day

harvey

heteroflexible

he likes women, but likes the occasional buff man

he's vocal with his support of the community, and pins up a pride flag on the clinic's wall

he lost a trans girlfriend to suicide back in the city. it sticks with him, and he makes sure to respectfully inquire about all his patients' mental health and if they need anything

he likes the farmer for their cool, confident demeanor regardless of their gender.

shane

straight

never thought about his sexuality

kissed a few of his homies back in college before he dropped out

hasn't really "fallen" for anyone before the farmer

abigail

bisexual

this girl is so, so bi

she definitely read manga on sites named stuff like yaoiparadiseheaven growing up

always shipped the protagonist and rival in pokemon games

has a few bi pride pins. pierre hates it and wants her to tone it down, but she refuses. loud and proud

caroline chides her, but is secretly proud of her and even buys her some sapphic movie dvds

haley

lesbian

it's complicated. she knows she has some sort of comphet, and she hates it

she wants to be out to the whole town just to prove a point, but she wants to present as straight at the same time just to feel more accepted

she flirts with guys and then feels like throwing up

she tries to flirt with girls and ends up insulting them

she and abigail have some sort of sapphic jealousy thing going on

when the farmer comes to town, abigail knows she's head-over-heels for the butch immediately despite her previous insistence that she only likes femme women

leah

definitely a lesbian

chill about it. she doesn't tell anyone, but she doesn't hide it

she has a vase painted the lesbian colours

her ex from the city is non-binary

she doesn't expect to fall for the farmer at all, but ends up yearning for months

boldly sculpts a messy piece of two women kissing

she and male!farmer would talk about women together

penny

her labels keep changing

she's into women, and into pretty guys.

she used to always keep an eye out for the woman who worked the jojamart counter

pam catches her reading a lesbian romance once, and penny fears the worst

instead, pam just nods and mentions she went out with some women herself and penny just stops in her tracks wide-eyed

when she first meets the farmer, she can't stop blushing around them

maru

she never really fathomed being attracted to men in the first and doesn't get why demetrius is so against her having male friends

demetrius is obnoxiously supportive once he finds out. the farmer sighs every time they walk in on an overly large display of support

he celebrates her coming-out anniversary every year

lesbian in stem

she's also on the asexual spectrum. something like demisexual, maybe. she doesn't have it figured out yet

emily

pansexual, and open about it

every time someone asks if she has a boyfriend, she corrects them to 'significant other'.

romance doesn't work like 'normal' to her

every friendship has a little romance, and every romance has a lot of friendship. isn't that the best way to live?

she's very affectionate. with friends, family, s/o's, anyone.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv alex #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv haley #sdv abigail #sdv leah #sdv maru #sdv emily #sdv penny #stardew headcanon #stardew headcanons #sexuality headcanons #might have slipped a bit of the sambastian agenda in there #oops

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leclercsfilm · 10 months

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but i'll know, i'll know

this is all fanfiction, all fake!!! no hate towards charlotte or alexandra (if that's her name idk). this is purely for fun and please don't be rude to me or insult me. thank you. <333 also, i checked grammar so i think it's fine? word count: 873 (i can't write more ig)

summary: because of your friendship with charles, his significant other wants you out of his life. (angst)

charles leclerc x female!reader

another bad race for ferrari. charles crushed into a wall and carlos got a penalty. you watch the race on your phone, hopping to see charles while he is exiting the car. it hurts not being there for him in times like this but you know he is in a good hands.

maybe you are blaming on your little 'something different' that you feel towards him, but you feel your eyes filling with tears. ever since his new relationship, you had mixed feelings on both of them. he started calling less, and every time you see each other, his girlfriend made sure that the meeting lasts only couple of minutes.

you are still in touch with arthur, your other friend you made while watching your brother go karting with charles. you were all pretty close until you weren't. that's how it is supposed to be.

charles new girlfriend saw you as a threat, and you understand her. insecure with you along side him (even if you only see each other on races or on a reunions), or media attention and their stupid tabloids.

since age 10, this is all you knew. it hurts you that you can't be part of this.

you had a slight crush on charles when you first met, but that feeling got lost somewhere until he broke up with the previous girlfriend.

he was a mess, and you were his comfort. not only you, but there was pierre, lando, arthur, carlos, isa, kika.... everybody was there for him.

he accidentally kissed you, and he apologized 330430 times for that. but that woke up something in you. since then you were always confused around him, trying not to blush or to be awkward enough for him to notice.

he did. he did notice. and when his girl said that he should stay away from you, he realized that it was probably for the best. he was also confused, but he had her by his side. he needs to be with her and devote his mind and soul to his girlfriend, not to wonder and question the situation with you. this was an easy way out.

you got up and started to look for something to eat. it was a mess of a day and you need to refresh yourself with something. distracting yourself.

while making food, you realize that the sun is not out anymore and that it is 8 p.m. you got your laptop and started to look up for netflix. just when you were trying to find where you left on 'friends' your phone started ringing.

without looking at it, you just picked it up.

'hallo?'

'y/n?'- a famous voice just started breathing into the phone

'charles? is everything alright?' - mutter while praying to God above that everything is fine

'yeah.... i just wanted to hear you for a bit...' - he sounded tired

'sure.. um, what now?' - confused as always, you said the first thing that came to your mind

'did you watched the race? it was pretty shit to be honest. im still shaking a little bit.'

'yes i watched it. sure it was a rough day for you'- you said while looking at the netflix which is infornt of you. you can't even calm yourself down.

'where is....she? is she with you? is there arthur or someone who can be with you?'

'no.... no really. im in bathroom. i had to escape somehow. arthur is waiting for me to get out. she was not even here. we had a fight last week.' - he sounded defeated. with his sigh, the silence got her way.

'im sorry to hear it charles. have you been drinking?' - you were worried about him, you think it never stopped.

'a little bit, yes. but im fine.'

'why are you calling me charles?' - you added

'i don't know why everytime im tipsy or drunk, i think of you. im sorry i couldn't defend you. i still think of our childhood, im sorry for throwing it away... i got scared, i got confused.. it was easier to run....'

charles cried, choking on his tears. your eyes watered as well, and you had to take a deep breath to hold back from crying out loud.

'you know... sometimes...no,no... almost always i have memories overwhelming me. it hurts so bad because you where always in every segment of my childhood, part of it. you were asking too much of me. i can't forget you...' - you cried out, while you wipe your tears.

'im sorry y/n. im so sorry. i don't know what i feel towards you. it not just friendship. i think we could be more. but we can't... and you know it. maybe this is just a process of healing... of forgetting.' - he tired to be collected. he really did. he needed to find a reason.

'well... it was nice to hear you charles. take care of yourself. don't be harsh to yourself..' - with that, you ended the call.

closing your laptop, you finally let emotions to control you. you finally let out frustrations and your tears. your memories with him no one can change or make disappear. you'll always know and remember him, but you'll never know what you two could be.

well, this was painful for me to read, im so sorry. i wish i was better. :( please, remember that english is not my first language and that i've created this account to fix my mistakes and my grammar. please do not insult me and make fun of me. love you <3

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 #c16 #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine

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russellsppttemplates · 8 months

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Breathe for me (Pierre Gasly)

Y/N's anxiety has been building throughout the week and it finally crumbled down

Note: english is not my first language. As you maybe know by now, talking about these subjects is a big responsibility for me, but I always hope that I've represented it well enough. It is different for different people, so what I have here is a possible scenario and not the only scenario.

Tags: @myloverjk-blog

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's anxiety symptoms which build up to an anxiety attack

You and Pierre had been invited to join his friends for dinner, and while you thought you were better from last night, things were showing otherwise. Walking around with your skirt unzipped, you tapped your tummy in hopes that the nervous feeling would settle once for all.

Things had felt off throughout the wholr day, it just hadn't been feeling right. And, quite honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to go and sit through a dinner, pretending you were fully composed when, deep down, your mind kept racing and you couldn't shut it off.

It wasn't because of the company, after all, you had known them for a good while and even felt comfortable around them to the point where admitting what was going on wouldn't be an issue, but right now, Pierre seemed to be the only person you could be with and not feel overwhelmed.

"Amour, do you need- hey, are you feeling okay?", Pierre asked, noticing your nervous stance as you paced around the bedroom, "hey, talk to me, please", he asked, stopping you on your tracks and holding you in place as softly as he could.

"I don't know if I can go. I'm not feeling very well, so I think it's best if you go and I stay", you said, genuinely wanting him to go and have a good time, knowing you wouldn't be the best company right now and that this particular group of friends hadn't been together at the same place in quite some time.

Pushing you to sit on the bed and sitting next to you, Pierre laced his fingers in yours while making sure you were looking at him and taking in every word he said, "hey, we don't need to go. I can call them and tell them we can't make it, they'll understand", he offered, "I want you to be okay, no matter what", he said, "but you can go, I'll just stay here. You haven't seen them in a while and you don't need when you will all have the opportunity to get together again", you said. Finding today to be the date where everyone was available had been enough of a struggle.

"I'm not leaving you feeling like this. I'm staying", Pierre said, grabbing comfier clothes from the wardrobe and helping you undress, "we are going to have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he asked.

After changing into comfortable clothes, you and Pierre stayed tucked in bed after he texted his friends, his arms protectively around you as you managed to relax a little bit, happy to stay in his embrace while he read a book with you.

"Do you think we can get that done until Friday?", one of your colleagues asked, "the client needs it for their meeting, apparently he's having dinner with the investors", she rolled her eyes.

"I think I can, but they should really stop and think about doing these things in such a rushed way, I mean, it's not the first time we're almost running against the clock", you reasoned back, booking another meeting with her to sort out the last final details before handing the project in.

The uneasiness feeling that had been with you since you woke up was not sitting right, so when you logged off your laptop, you decided that working out would be a good distraction and allow you to forget about it.

"Are you heading for a run?", Pierre asked you as he walked inside the bedroom, seeing you put on your sports bra, "I was planning on doing some yoga, maybe go for a walk after", you said, watching him walk over to the drawer where he kept his workout clothes, "do you mind if I joing you? I promise I won't utter a word", he smirked, kissing your cheek and changing from his day clothes.

You and Pierre arranged the room so you could lay the mats, pressing play on the video and doing your best to mimick the moves and positions the young woman was going on the screen. You weren't an expert by all means, but exercise had always been a good escape when you felt overwhelmed, and having Pierre with you, even if you weren't talking or touching, made you feel his support and attentiveness.

"Still up for that walk?", he asked as he handed you your bottle of water, "yes, I think so", you smiled.

Walking on that park had become a common thing for you, being almost able to walk with your eyes closed from how many times you had been there, "are you feeling better now?", Pierre asked.

By now, he had noticed your patterns and preferences, so it wasn't too hard for him to notice that your day hadn't been the best, "yes, thank you for joining me. I know you know you don't need to, but I'm happy you did", you sighed, "my deadline just became a lot more real, so I need to hurry. But I'm also aware I can't do much if I'm worried, so here I am, trying to shush the worry away, at least for a bit", you explained, feeling your boyfriend squeeze your hand in his, "you did well, amour".

Work was finally over, you had handed in your project and you thought it would make you feel at ease, that it would allow you to finally feel a little bit lighter, but it didn't. Your thoughts were still spiralling, and they didn't seem like they were on the way to settling down. Your legs started to feel tingly, and you didn't trust them to stay up, so you sat on the living room floor with your back against the sofa, letting your body feel the softness of the rug while your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air inside them.

You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing as best as you could when you heard a noise far away, approaching quickly as you could make out your name in what the person was saying.

"Amour, Y/N, hey...! Breathe for me, yeah?", said as you tried your best to follow his voice and block out everything else, feeling Pierre's hand coming to hold your own, the feel of his fingers very faint as you struggled in regulating your unsteady breathing, "Y/N, hey, hey, you're okay, amour. Everything is fine, okay?", he urged you to follow his voice, something you had mentioned before that always calmed you.

Encouraging you to breathe with him, you finally got up to his rhythm, looking up to his eyes and despite the worry in them, you also saw the calm that comes after the storm has passed. How it all seems too much, it bursts, and then you're just left with the aftermath.

"There you go, that's good, good, just like that", he said, sitting on the floor and sitting on your side so he could pull your body against his, seeing you were struggling to hold yourself upright.

You stood there a couple of minutes, your eyes closing for a little bit before you croaked a few words out, "can we go to the sofa, please?", feeling his arms go around your back and under your knees, swiftly pulling you against him and getting up from his spot, walking to the sofa and cuddling there with you, brushing your hair with his fingers.

"Do you want some water? A snack perhaps", he advised, "I'm just a little tired, but thanks", you smiled weakly, "you're alright, ma belle, take all the time you need".

You must have fallen asleep on your boyfriend's chest, because when you woke up he was still there, but the window was no longer letting sunlight in and rather moonlight, the TV was on what looked like the evening news and you could feel a blanket covering you and Pierre.

"Hey, you", he whispered, kissing your forehead as he helped you sit up straight, "are you feeling better? A little more rested?", he asked, brushing the hairs away from your eyes, "yes, I am", you smiled, "thank you".

"Those hadn't happened in a while", he pointed out, "yes, it had been a while. I've been able to manage it, but it just crumbled today, before I could get it together, it's just crumbled", you explained

"That's okay, it happens, amour. You're still very strong to have managed ti well, I'm proud of you", he said honestly. Pierre always made you feel safe and never once judged you, instead always wanting to learn how to help you when you needed him and how he could make things better for you. So he wasn't lying when he said he was proud of you and how far you had come.

"My throat is a bit dry", you said, getting up and being followed by Pierre to the kitchen, sipping on the water as he grabbed something to snack on, "do you want some food?", he asked, "no, I'm good", you stated.

"What happened that got you to have the attack?", he wondered, "I handed in my project today. It had been building the last few days, and I was so sure they would be gone by the time I submitted it", you shrugged your shoulders, "now I know what to expect", you smiled, wanting to comfort Pierre and erase the crease between his eyebrows.

"Do you want to go and watch a movie? There's a new Disney one I haven't seen yet", he changed the subject, having gotten the information he needed and looking for a distraction, "Lead the way, handsome".

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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three-penguins-in-a-trench-coat · 5 months

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What happened to Morris after the collapse of Pelican Town's Joja Mart?

In the main storyline of Stardew Valley, after you complete all of the Community Centre bundles, Morris "is never seen in Stardew Valley again." But what happened to him.

A part of me would like to think that he had to face the angry Chief Executives and explain to them how he managed to not only lose the profits of an entire town, but as to why he let the Pelican Town Joja Mart fall into disrepair? Perhaps he was fired on the spot, and spent the rest of his days bouncing from job to job, wallowing in sadness. He mopes and drinks, works a shitty 9-5 for an investment firm, and sees no future for himself. People take pity, until they hear him speak and work out what a greed-driven creature he is.

More likely, Joja Corp absorbs the losses, Morris is moved to manage a new location and on a server file buried somewhere in the goliath that is Joja Corp, the Pelican Town Joja Mart is crossed off, and a tag put up that says reinstating a Joja Mart would not increase profits. Morris, angry and hell-bent on revenge, climbs up the corporate ladder until he reaches a position where he is so powerful he has the authority to make executive decisions.

Perhaps one day, he orders that all shipments of goods sent out into the area are ceased immediately. And not just Joja. Through a series of shell corporations, bribery and in one in instance completely absorbing the multi-million business into Joja's fold, he is completely able to stop anything from making it to Pelican Town. No construction materials, no food, no help. When you have as much money as Joja does, it's not that hard to cut off phone lines and internet service if you know the right government officials. Within a week, the entire road is blocked off. All contact with the town is ceased. It essentially disappears from maps. Morris has gone mad with power, and he's used it to seek revenge on those who bested him once before.

The people of Stardew are forced into a siege. With supplies dwindling, they begin panicking. One day, as the rations begin to dwindle, and some people have begun debating whether making the trip to civilisation is worth it, a letter arrives. It's delivered by a bright blue helicopter, and the letter itself is dropped from the cockpit, inside of a metal box.

It read:

For the people of Stardew Valley, Accept Joja once more into your lives, and you will find your struggles perish. We will send another messenger in a weeks time to hear your response, and we wish that you make the right decision.

Morris

Most of the townspeople were adamant that they held out, Pierre especially. They all met in the Community Centre to discuss options. Pierre and Robin were quite vocal about their opinions of Joja, and tried to reason with everyone that their lives were still better without them. Others however, saw no other option. Jodi and Kent had Vincent to think about, and Lewis saw that the town may fall into disrepair. They talked late into the evening, but no decision was made.

At midnight, after a successful 17 hour fishing trip, the Farmer traipses in, backpack full to the brim with fresh fish. They were on the way home, but got distracted by the sound of voices in the community centre and sought to investigate. They hadn't even noticed that the road had been blocked, as they hadn't actually walked through the town in months, thanks to the teleportation obelisks they had installed.

"Why don't... I just supply the town with everything you need?" They said simply. Everyone looked at them with a bit of confusion. "Look, I got all this shit lyin around doing nothing, and I haven't actually used my farm for any agriculture in awhile, but I could convert my ancient fruit masses into planting room for anything you need. I got plenty of livestock, as does Marnie, and I've got enough construction material lying around to make a city. I could probably have us set with everything we need for... say, the next 20 years?"

And so it happened. When a deliveryman turned up on the empty road, they chose to deny a response to Morris, who promptly kept the roads closed. And life moved on. It was harder from then on out, without any outside support, but they persevered. Instead of having the town raze itself to the ground, as Morris intended, they thrived. With no connection to the outside world, the town became closer, with more festivals and community events. Who needs an economy if everyone's working together in a closed community? Everyone is welcome to contribute on the farm now, and a surplus of food is created, including all the artisan goods that are better than just meat and vegetables.

A solar farm for the town was created to keep the lights on, but most other devices were eventually discarded (Elliot chose to only use candles for dramatic effect). Willy's boat occasionally made trips to other towns along the coast for essential items they couldn't produce themselves, but with the looming threat of the Gotoro Empire invading, and the notion that Joja is always watching, trips became more infrequent.

Morris thought he had won. He assumed all the people of Pelican Town had either fled on foot, or kept their pride and stayed in the husk of the town as scavengers. He never bothered to check on the thriving community, safe from the dangers of the Gotoro Empire and corporate greed.

Joja is always watching, but perhaps not close enough.

UH HOLY SHIT IF YOU READ ALL THAT MY BAD I THINK I WENT A LITTLE OVERBOAD. WELP THANKS FOR READIN MY CRACKPOST

#imagine being vincent or jas #and growing up in a community like this #it would be amazing being so close to everyone #but you wouldn't get any other experiences #despite knowing that there's a huge world out there #stardew valley #sdv #stardew #morris sdv #morris stardew valley #writing ideas #theories #crack post #stardew theory

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iconocon · 1 year

Text

what about me | verstappen

⚔︎ ✧ (short)

there he was.

a wet max verstappen stood in the doorframe of your apartment smelling like the mini-bar of a cheap hotel and it was not a good look on him. your eyes went from the bird's nest of a hair on his head to the dark wine-red half-smudged lipstick stain on his white collared shirt to the belt around his waist that was left on one notch too big.

"i didn't know where else to go"

"why would you come here"

"i needed you please don't make me go home"

you hated him. hated that he always knew exactly what to say to suck you in, to forgive him for the stupid shit he does but your heart was too big to kick the wet beaten-down puppy anymore so with a big sigh you stepped backward allowing him into the hallway.

"max"

you two knew each other well enough by this point that he automatically tried reaching to take off his wet black dress shoes but I'm sure the rain mixed with the cheap vodka was too much for him and he went tumbling to the wooden floor in a mess. if anything your patience with him was wearing thin and with one glance into your living you would see the big clock above your sofa laying out the time of 3:25 in the morning. so slowly getting down to his height you reached for one foot while he reached for the other, of course, you managed it way before him and even chuckled at the frustrated look on his face as he struggled with the knot he himself made which did all but distract his gaze to your face. the way he stared at you was unnerving, as if he wanted to say something so bad but didn't have the guts to do it and that probably scared you the most because if he of all people was scared to say something it was not something you wanted to hear.

"come"

before you could even say no or turn down the offer the man himself nudged your knee out from underneath you with just his foot laying you flat on ur butt/the wet footprints he made himself minutes before.

"what the fu-"

"i don't know who i am anymore" he interrupted and before you could say anything he stopped you with a hand on your knee as he stared mindlessly with glazed-over eyes into your beige wallpaper abyss of a hallway, "I'm not happy not at home, not on the track, I don't know how to make it okay again" you wanted to reach out and touch him but every time your fingers moved closer to his body he shifted around them so he was just so out of reach which at this point should have been a normal occurrence for you but it still didn't stop the pain in your chest. "i went out and i did what the guys wanted, i drank and drank, and i danced with some girl who only liked me fo-" the hiccup stopped he sentence but the lipstick mark on his collar told the story for him. "i wanted to be okay just for one night" this time you didn't allow him to push his body away from you and instead sat shoulder to shoulder with him grabbing his damp head and pulling it down into your lap. as you ran your fingers through his hair you hummed a familiar song that you both loved as children even going as far to label it as ‘your song’.

max was a tough guy. growing up in the way in which he did he wasn't allowed the luxury of being a crazy teen or a child that could talk back to his parents. he was a prodigy meant to be something greater than all the other kids on the block and you saw it in him the moment you met on track. at that time you wanted to be something too, you wanted to be bigger than all the stars, but reality set in for you too young making you realize that you weren't cut out for the same dreams as your peers however that didn't stop you from being a selfish child then adult and keeping him.

your crush on max was visible from day one, he was all chubby bright pink cheeks and fury. you want to say the first time you realized your crush was the same day he yelled at pierre gasly (one of your now both good friends) for pushing you off track after he broke late in one of the corners making you cry your eyes out because you were finally able to compete for a podium. it was dumb and it was stupid but he was your savior even as children making sure to do everything he could to make you laugh even making himself look stupid to onlookers in restaurants by putting straws up his nose one day when you were sad your mom said you couldn’t have ice cream.

when he too grew up and left it was probably the hardest thing you had to go through because to you he was your peace, your home, but as a teen, it was hard for you to realize at the time that you weren't his. racing took your best friend away, and it was bittersweet because he was so good. he was better than you thought he was, and now your drunk sad best friend was a two-time world champion who could be recognized around the world. for fucks sake he raced in countries you could only dream of on a normal person's salary and even when it felt like you grew so far apart you knew he still needed you as he did now. you were the one person in the world he knew he could come to and cry and cry and do it again until he couldn't feel any more but yet maybe he didn't understand why that hurt you. why right now as he was laying in your arms you were so focused on the way his heart skipped a beat when he snored that your own heartbeat fell in tune with him.

you loved max verstappen and even though you could never be enough for him you selfishly hoped now as you did as children that he would always need you even if that meant waiting forever but, for now, you slept dreaming of what it could be like if maybe just maybe he did too.

⌯

this is so short and probably bad but i was SAD and i might delete it idk i haven't written in so long but i have a few in the chamber anyway pls send prompts I love u!

#max verstappen imagine #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen x reader #angst #childhood best friends to lovers #max verstappen fluff

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wisteriagoesvroom · 29 days

Note

lestappen + beach day

The whistle blows. The spike was solid. There was no way it was out. It was simply impossible. He’d worked perfectly with Pierre on it. Pierre going low on the dig, Lando shouting when Charles leapt and smashed it down the court, right in the gap where two bodies stood.

It was good. And Charles is good at a lot of things. But the problem was, the other person standing on the other side of the net, looking shockingly muscular while topless, of course had to be one Max Verstappen.

(It’s very hard not to stare at the gleam of his boobs while Charles stalks up to the net. He adjusts his sunglasses. That is what they did in the films. So he can channel being cool for now, too.)

“It was not over the line. Absolutely not.”

“Mate.” Max replies. “You can clearly see there is a dent there.”

“The edge of the ball did not touch that line.”

“Are you blind?”

“The way your chest is shining? Yes, perhaps.”

Somewhere off court, Alex makes an ooh noise. Somewhere off court is the sound of George slapping Alex’s shoulder, ostensibly to make him shut up.

On the back of Max’s court, Oscar adjusts his cap. “Listen, it’s a friendly—”, but the noise dies in his throat as Charles shoots him a look.

“It’s not my problem if you’re so easily distracted.” Max continues. He steps closer to the net, and rests his hands on his hips.

“And it’s not my fault if you’re blind and can’t see that the ball was clearly out.”

As if sensing that this is going to take a while, Oscar rolls his eyes and goes to open the cooler with the popsicles. Lando follows in quick succession, and Pierre mutters a few choice words in French that Charles chooses to ignore.

Charles feels like his mother’s carefully taught decorum is the only thing keeping him from smacking Max or escalating the situation to something even worse to contemplate, and certainly against FIA parental guidance rules.

“Why are you always being so difficult, Max?”

Max shoves up his sunglasses higher on his head. Charles realises with a start that Max’s nose is sun-flushed, and he’s got the start of some freckles just below his eyes.

(Charles will spend too much time staring at the ceiling fan later in bed, trying not to remember the exact placement of these very freckles.)

“Because, Charlie.” Max says, carefully, clear enough for the whole court to hear, “I think you like it quite a bit when I do.”

#lestappen #1633 #max verstappen #Charles leclerc #cl16 #mv33 #3316 #wiz.promptfills #look i did this prompt fill while in transit #if it’s bad do not judge #i mean fine if you judge #judge it silently #thanks #I hit post too soon so if you saw the unfinished version? no you did not #THERE WERE SO MANY TYPOS ON THE FIRST DRAFT BLESS Y’ALL FOR NOT SAYING ANYTHING

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lichenes · 2 months

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Just here to comment that all your works are so, so good! If possible can we get another law school Vincent and reader piece! Or something on Pierre <3

Thank you for the ask gepardings and thank you for the compliment!! I got so excited to see you request something<33 I'm only just learning writing so I'm hoping to perfect my craft soon enough :D This is a sort of sequel-prequel to this. Also the person who guesses what I'm referencing in the second paragraph gets a cookie :D CW: swearing (once), SFW wc: 414

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

During your law school days Vincent was smitten by you. Whenever you would have your little study sessions together he wouldn't be able to focus and would keep distracting you with his antics. To say he wasn't an ideal study partner would be an understatement. Solo, he would study nearly for all the hours of the day, not taking breaks even to sleep, but the second you stepped into his radar he would change dramatically.

"Don't you want to do something fun maître?" He said with a slight smirk. "Fuck you, calling me maître like it doesn't turn you on just to say it." He chuckled, putting his head on yours. "Come oooon..." You sighed and turned around. "You've been at it for hours, you deserve a break ma chérie."

"I don't need anything exuberant. I just want to get out of this placeee." "Hey, you're the one who is overstaying his welcome. This is my room." You said feigning annoyance. He put a hand on his forehead theatrically. "Ah my hubris has been uncovered once more, what shall I do now?" You got up defeated and gestured for him to follow you. "I'm choosing what we're doing though."

You were sitting in a park nearby your dorms enjoying a cone of your favourite ice cream, the birds just recently having returned to start chirping as if just for you. Vincent was sitting next to you entranced with the way the sun was hitting your beautiful features. It was the spring term which meant only the first buds were opening up. The plum blossoms were beginning to bloom, shyly poking their heads out of their hiding.

You were appreciating these small ways of nature showing it was coming to life after the winter. A chill ran through you. "Are you cold?" He asked concerned. Without hearing an answer from you he started removing his coat and put it over you assuring you he was gonna be fine. "Vincent you'll get sick if you keep giving me your jacket." You mused and he got a bit red in the cheeks.

"Keep not bringing your own jacket and maybe I won't stay in good health." He jested earning a laugh from you. "I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose." He said, his voice laced with hope. It was your turn to blush. A comfortable silence fell between the both of you.

The birds kept chirping and life, even if for a moment, was serene. _____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____ masterlist

#swann arlaud #x reader #anatomy of a fall #vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi x gn!reader #writing

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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months

Text

Running From The Flames {Epilogue 2/2}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: none but it’s the end 😭

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Pierre had gone on the first airport run just after sunrise to pick up his parents before going back a few hours later to get mine.

“Thank you, my love,” I said as I stole a fleeting kiss from him while I tried to make breakfast for Clare and dodge a half-asleep Addie as she made a protein shake. “Did you not sleep well, sweetheart?”

She had her own hotel room but since Sydney was the one with the blender she had sauntered across the hall barefoot with the tub of powder and grumbled a good morning to us.

“She was on the phone to her boyfriend all night,” Sydney teased before catching the apple she tossed at him with the quick reflexes he got from his father. He was still laughing as he took a bite of it. “Yum, thanks, sis.”

I placed the bowl of cereal at the table for Clare and pushed her chair in before putting the kettle on for a round of tea for their grandparents. “So Elias? He’s a sweet kid.”

“Not a kid,” Addie corrected before the blender roared to life and I waited for it to turn silent again.

“Fair enough, he’s a nice young man - like his father. Have you two been hanging out for long?”

Addie rolled her eyes as she poured the shake into a bottle. “No one says ‘hang out’ anymore. We have been on a few dates and yeah, he’s nice, but it’s just a bit of fun.”

I winced at the word and looked around to see if Pierre had left the room yet and thankfully he had. “Don’t let your father hear that. Just make sure you’re being careful okay, sweetheart?”

“She means, make sure Elias wraps it before he taps it!” Sydney yelled from the living room.

An irritated growl rumbled from his sister as she slammed her bottle on the bench. “Shut up, Sloth!”

“Ma!”

“Addie, please don’t call him that,” I sighed as the recurring argument began, simultaneously with the headache that always joined it. “Syd, focus on getting ready. We need to leave soon.”

It was a miracle everyone made it to the race track on time on Sunday. It may have been simpler to herd bulls than it was to coordinate everyone that had travelled across the world to witness Sydney's first F4 race.

It was only after leaving the hotel that the nerves finally hit me. I had no more distractions of getting everyone organised and suddenly I was young again as I remembered the worry of watching Pierre race. But this was much worse.

Pierre found me in the corporate boxes above the pit lane. Few people were there yet, but it would be full by the afternoon when the F1 race began.

“Relax,” Pierre soothed as he wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. His warm lips softly brushed my cheek and I felt some of the tension leave my body. “He’s smart like his mother, he’s not reckless like I was.”

“God, I hope Clare still wants to be a chef when she grows up. I don’t think I could handle going through this again.”

Pierre laughed softly and started to lead me back inside where the stairs to the garage were. “Be brave just a little longer.”

There were more people in the garage there to support Sydney than there were mechanics and I felt emotion swell in my chest when Sydney walked in with his race suit on and helmet in hand. Clare was clapping wildly from Uncle Charles’ shoulders and Addie broke out in a grin as she recorded the moment.

“Go fast, Flash,” Addie said seriously, and he didn’t even complain about the sloth reference as he nodded and returned her hug. “But drive safe.”

“Will do,” he promised before he turned to Pierre and I. My arms started to open and he dove into the hug as Pierre’s arms came around us both. “I can do this, right?” he whispered.

“Of course you can. You can do anything you put your mind to, honey,” I assured him as his father kissed his head and echoed the sentiment.

“We will be proud of you no matter what, mon fils. It doesn’t matter where you finish, just enjoy the moment.”

I watched how his sincere words eased our son's mind and Sydney stepped back with a nod, even managing a small nervous smile. My arm curled around Pierre’s waist as we watched Sydney climb into the cockpit and pull his helmet on. “Have fun,” I said after pulling my headset on. “We love you.”

I could almost see his cheeks turn pink from beneath his visor but he managed to mumble a reply. “Love you too.”

“Bri,” Pierre groaned, “mon ange, my ribs.”

“Shit, sorry, love,” I apologised as I eased my grip on him. “I’m okay, I’m okay. I can do this.”

“You just have to watch,” Pierre laughed.

“Just you wait,” I warned with a laugh of my own. “You say that like it’s easy, but you’ve never been on this side of the fence.”

Pierre fell silent as the single seater car left the garage and followed the other drivers around the track to stop at the starting grid. The formation lap speed already had my heart pumping hard but as that finished I knew it would be a whole lot faster in a few short seconds.

Five red lights set the mark.

Pierre’s hand slipped into mine.

Four red lights.

His fingers trembled before squeezing tight.

Three red lights.

I chanced a glance at my husband and saw his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. “I’m scared,” he whispered.

Two red lights.

I reached for the gold chain only to remember it was around Sydney’s neck. The gold pendant with the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe had brought me plenty of luck over the years and I prayed it did the same for Sydney too.

One red light.

Dropping my hand back to Pierre’s, I squeezed him back. “He’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Lights out and away we go.

#pierre gasly x oc #Pierre Gasly x poc!oc #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly imagine

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jamminvroomvroom · 2 years

Text

these quiet moments

CL x fem!reader

read part 2: a fruit basket and a ferrari ✨here✨

right so here is my first sharl fic. you do not realise how hard it was to type ‘charles’ lmao. so this was inspired by the events of barcelona and then, of course, the absolute shambles of the monaco gp. hey, at least it gave me a plot lmao. anyways, enjoy!! feedback is always welcome, hmu <33

songs that guided the vibes: ivy by frank ocean, woman by harry styles, north by clairo

in which charles feels things for his best friends, ahem, fuck buddy.

warnings: 18+!! angst, smut in a ✨shower✨, fluff kinda i guess, swearing, pierre gasly (affectionate... ish), alcohol, the curse of the monaco gp lol.

6.8k words

the car came to a halt in the pit box, red men frantically changing his tyres and then waving him on his way. the stop was quick, almost perfect, not that it needed to be. he had a lead that didn’t put him in danger of being overtaken coming out of the box. he wouldn’t need to scramble to regain a position under the spanish sunshine that was beating down relentlessly on the crowd, he just needed to get through the next forty odd laps and he’d be on top of the podium. he’d spray the champagne and get a pat on the back and go back to the hotel. it seemed so easily in his grasp.

he needed the win. he needed the distraction. he needed to not think of you.

the longer the good times lasted, the less he had to think of you. he’d be able to bear the torment of watching pierre’s hand linger on your waist if he won the race, because it would mean that millions loved him, even if you didn’t. but if he lost, or came second or third, which was the same thing in his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to cope. he wouldn’t be able to cope when he watched you leave with pierre. he wouldn’t be able to handle it when he saw you at breakfast in the hotel the next morning, knowing exactly how you’d spent your evening. he wouldn’t be able to endure watching pierre saunter into the dining hall ten minutes later, acting nonchalant, as if no one had eyes or the faintest clue that pierre had spent the night on top of you. or beneath you. pierre wasn’t fussy like that.

charles knew that you and pierre were just friends. best friends even. such good friends that sleeping together was like going for a cup of coffee, or going to the movies. your arms were open for pierre on a good day, a bad day, and every kind of day in between and charles had never envied another man more. he loved pierre like a brother but, god, he hated him too. it didn’t matter that pierre didn’t want you like charles did, he still had most of your time and attention. all charles got was conversations over breakfast after your rendezvous with his best friend, or a weirdly deep conversation when you got drunk with him and the other drivers after a long race weekend. it wasn’t enough.

charles continued to fly across the track, light on the curbs but pace simply unmatched. no one on the track was as fast as him. no one could fucking touch him. this was his race to win. and so naturally, his engine decided to call it a day. of course. he heard himself shouting, white noise filling the air as he trundled back to the pit lane, where they’d already cleared a neat and tidy space in the garage for him. the rage just about dispersed and he finally got out of the car. the helmet came off, a quick wave to the crowd, a ruffle of the hair from mattia. he wanted to be alone. he had a good thirty or so laps to wallow.

eventually, he made his way through the garage and back to the ferrari hospitality building. just as he stepped through the door, he heard a voice that sent a pathetic shiver down his spine. he turned around slowly, not quite ready to believe it was you. shouldn’t you be tucked away quietly in the back of the alpha tauri garage so that no one got the wrong idea? so that pierre’s fans didn’t find you on social media and ruin your life, for absolutely no reason at all? it turned out that his tired mind was not playing tricks on him, because there you stood. a weak smile on your face, hair blowing in the same breeze that had put his teammate in the gravel.

“oh. hi.” oh hi? he wanted to punch himself in the face.

“i’m sorry about your engine.” you offered, tilting your head apologetically. he still didn’t understand why you were stood here talking to him, instead of watching the race.

“yeah, so am i.” charles muttered, barely audible. he just wanted to go inside. as much as he would have loved to stay and talk to you forever and ever, he gathered that you’d need to conserve your energy to console pierre later on. he accidentally rolled his eyes at his own thoughts, and then watched on like an idiot when you furrowed your eyebrows and took a step back.

“um, i’m gonna go, i just wanted to make sure you were okay.” just as you were about to turn on your heel, he couldn’t help himself and called out to you.

“no! i’m sorry. i just, i’m not having a great day.” he laughed humourlessly, eyes lighting up when you joined in.

“i should go anyway.” you waved your hand casually, brushing him off.

“you don’t need to.” he spoke a bit to quickly, over eager to get you to stay. he felt his cheeks heat up. he didn’t miss the way your lips quirked up.

“i can’t exactly come and hang out in the ferrari suite.” you challenged.

“you can with me.” he almost recoiled at the way that he sounded, far too arrogant for a guy who’s engine just passed away, but he chose not to care, standing up straighter and letting himself smirk.

you shrugged, following him into the ferrari hospitality through the door that he held open for you. he could feel your eyes on his back, basking delightfully in the fact that you were here with him. you were in his territory now, somewhere pierre couldn’t get to you. as the door to his drivers room slowly shut, that feeling of momentary pride came to an unfortunate end. what the hell did he do now?

“so-“

“so-“ you both spoke at the same time. it was awkward. there was no denying that. you were sat next to him on the small sofa, half a space between you.

“go ahead.” he encouraged, blushing again and averting his eyes.

stop fucking blushing!

“are you okay?” the sincerity behind your words made charles look at you again.

“honestly? no.”

“i appreciate your honesty.” you scoffed.

something about the way you said that, as if you had a bitter taste in your mouth, made charles wonder. what made you appreciate his honesty? more importantly, who had made you appreciate his honesty? nonetheless, he couldn’t stop his heart from hammering away in his chest; you appreciated him, in that moment at least.

“are you okay?” charles asked. you’d piqued his curiosity now.

“fine, thank you.” your smile, although breathtaking, was completely and utterly fake.

you let out a sigh when you saw how he was looking at you. a look that said i call bullshit.

the most notable thing about charles’ relationship with you was the strangely intricate conversations that you’d shared throughout the years. days full of chaos would be broken up by these quiet moments that you shared that held more substance than most interactions that charles had to endure. you weren’t best friends, not even close, but these moments of stillness and clarity meant a great deal to both of you. they usually happened when pierre was ordering another round of drinks, or when pierre went to get the car, or when pierre’s media obligations overran. basically, charles could only have you to himself when pierre was occupied. he had never been so happy to dnf before, as awful as it was. while pierre was driving in meaningless circles, charles was watching you collect your thoughts, watching the way your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes changed. charles certainly knew what he’d rather be doing.

“it doesn’t really matter.” you said quietly.

“yes it does. matters to me.” he couldn’t not say it. it did matter to him. anything bothering you mattered to him a great deal, an embarrassingly great deal. you just stared at him for a second, charles suddenly realising that you were both turned in to face one another, knees touching.

“why?”

well, that was a good question.

“well we’re friends aren’t we?” he didn’t like the way the word ‘friends’ tasted on his tongue, nor did he like the way your eyes changed as he said it. almost as if you knew.

“sure we are,” you smirked, “but i won’t burden you.”

“please do.” why could he not think before he spoke today? you raised your eyebrows at him. he shrugged.

“shouldn’t i be comforting you?” you looked mischievous. he almost felt like you were mocking him, but for some reason he was revelling in it.

“your presence is more than enough.” he didn’t know where he found the nerve to flirt with you but nevertheless, he was. “so, please, what’s wrong?” he ignored the light dusting of pink across your cheekbones, refusing to get his hopes up, and tried his best to move the conversation along.

“i just,” you were fiddling with your skirt, staring down at your hands. charles was practically on the edge of his seat, desperate to know what was going through your mind. “i don’t think i can keep doing… this thing. i know you know about me and pierre.” you averted eye contact. charles had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. anyone with eyes knew about you and pierre. “we don’t exactly want the same things.”

if charles knew pierre, and he knew him very well, he knew that pierre wanted to live his life as he pleased, no strings attached, no obligations. after all, that’s why he maintained the relationship that he did with you. and if you and pierre didn’t want the same things, that meant that you wanted more than a place in pierre’s bed. or that’s what charles had deduced, at least. the room was silent as charles’ heart shattered in his chest.

“oh. i see.”

“do you?”

“i’m sorry?” he was taken aback.

“do you see what i mean? i’m not sure that you do.” you clarified, voice a lot calmer than charles’. you gave nothing away.

“well, i think i do. pierre doesn’t want a relationship. you do.” charles stated simply, growing frustrated. maybe he didn’t want to know what was bothering you, after all.

“i suppose-“ you started, only to be cut short by the monegasque driver.

“then why are you questioning me?” he didn’t mean to sound so irritated.

“who said i wanted a relationship with pierre?” you bit back quickly.

great. so there was someone else?

“actually, i need to do some media. i’m sorry.” he stood up. he instantly missed the contact of your knee against his. you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“no, i’m sorry. of course, i’ll go.” he hated that you apologised to him when it was him that had absolutely annihilated the moment. it was rude of him, negligent. he’d offered to be your shoulder to cry on and as soon as he heard something he didn’t like, he was kicking you out. you left the room in a hurry, looking as flustered as charles felt. the door closed, a visual reminder that he had let you slip away.

the day could not get much worse.

apparently, the day could, in fact, get worse.

charles cursed under his breath as he helped you manoeuvre pierre through the dimly lit hallway of the hotel. charles was bearing most of pierre’s weight while you guided them both back to pierre’s hotel room, a look on your face that charles could not quite distinguish. you looked exasperated. the frenchman was blackout drunk after a more than unsatisfactory race, slurring something about how much helmut marko sucked and how life was unfair. charles couldn’t help but agree with both of those statements.

eventually, you made it to the room, pierre’s body being flung perhaps a bit carelessly onto his bed. you and charles both stood over him like disappointed parents. your arms were crossed, grimacing down at him, while charles stood with his hands on his hips, glaring down at his friend. charles hadn’t wanted to spend the evening with you and pierre but of course, the frenchman roped him in and then got himself so drunk that charles had to practically carry him back to his room. and to make matters worse, you were there too, along for every second of the tragic ride. you’d probably expected a different outcome for the evening, probably assuming that yes, pierre would end up in bed but you’d be there too. alas, that was not the case.

“i don’t know if you’re staying here but i’m going to go. you can call me if you need anything.” charles spoke, not giving pierre the courtesy of whispering. pierre would be asleep for a while.

“no.” you said softly, but with a conviction that told charles that you meant business.

“no?”

“no, i’m not staying here.” you sighed.

“okay. in that case, do you want me to walk you to your room?” charles offered, wanting nothing more than to spend the remainder of his evening with you, whilst also wanting to make sure you got back safely. you smiled. he smiled back. it was hard not to.

“would you?”

“my pleasure.” he said, as if it was nothing. it was everything.

you poured a glass of water for pierre, while charles retrieved the small bin from the bathroom and placed it on the floor by pierre’s bed. what are friends for? you both spared the other driver once last look, before you left the hotel room. you both made the trip to the elevator, which was much shorter without pierre’s deadweight, letting charles push the button.

you waited there together, hands at your sides. when he felt your knuckles brush against his, he almost jumped in the air. if that tiny, minuscule contact was enough to take him down, he could only imagine what kind of reaction your body against his would evoke. he tried to subtly look down, take in the sight of your hand against his. he wanted to hold your hand more than he wanted to win the championship. you seemed to be watching him from the corner of your eye, enjoying the flustered state of the ferrari driver.

the elevator doors opened and you stepped forward first, breaking charles out of his trance. he stepped in next to you, the both of you standing in a silence that lingered somewhere between comfortable and awkward. he wanted to know what you were thinking, dying to know what was going through your head. when he’d first laid eyes on you earlier on in the evening, he hadn’t been able to resist raking them up and down your body, no better than every other man in the bar who was undoubtedly doing the same. he felt guilty, but you were a sight to behold.

whilst pierre had been set on having a wild night, charles was content in the huge booth pierre had rented out for the evening, not up for interacting with anyone who’d seen his shambolic race. you seemed to be on the same wavelength, staying put and nursing a drink. as the night progressed, charles found himself gravitating towards you, and you to him, until you were both sat next to each other. one of your legs was crossed over the other and your knees brushed under the table. charles didn’t even know what the topic of your conversation was, all he could focus on was the shape of your lips when you spoke. he’d been on his way to leaning in when pierre had magically reappeared, whining because someone said he looked like nico rosberg in his white trousers. the annoyance that flashed across your face for a split second at pierre’s not so epic return gave charles hope.

“charles?” your voice cut through the memories of the evening.

“hmm?” he replied, turning his head to look down at you beside him.

his eyes locked on yours for a split second before you were cupping his face and pulling him in towards you. when your lips met his, charles didn’t know what to do for a second. he was so utterly shocked that he just stood there. but it really was only a second, because he quickly realised that he had been waiting several years to kiss you and he could not let a second go to waste in such an important moment. he kissed you back urgently, hands gripping at your waist to pull you in closer. as you kissed him, one hand grazed his jaw and the other one trailed down his neck until it was laced through the hair at the nape of his neck. charles groaned into the kiss, unable to help himself. you unleashed something animalistic within him, something desperate, lustful, pathetic. he didn’t understand how he’d be able to let you go tonight. as his kisses trailed down your cheek and onto the flushed skin of your neck, the elevator slowed. you whimpered.

“charles,” you breathed, “this is my stop.” he groaned in annoyance, pressing an open mouthed kiss right in the crook of your neck. as the doors slowly opened, he watched you saunter out of the lift, turning around as you walked away to bid him adieu.

“i’ll see you in monaco.” you winked at him. he thought he was going to pass out.

he fell back against the back wall of the elevator as the doors shut tantalisingly slowly, finally removing you from his sight. he smiled lazily, just about making out the image of himself in the metallic doors. his smile was contorted in the silvery surface. his hair was an untameable mess. his white dress shirt stood out to him in the reflection, able to see the way it had creased when you’d been pressed against him.

as charles approached his floor, he tried not to think about pierre, and all of his shirts that you’d creased in elevators just like this one. all he could think about was what you’d said.

i’ll see you in monaco.

would you? would you really? it was saturday and charles hadn’t laid eyes on you once. you lurked at the corner of his every single thought and he hadn’t even seen you yet. he held out hope all week that pierre would bring you along to dinner but you never showed. it was distracting, he needed to talk to you, needed to just be near you at the very least. there was something strange lingering in the air that charles couldn’t quite put his finger on. all he knew was that pierre’s eyes seemed to narrow when he thought charles wasn’t looking.

he paced beside his car, getting himself into the correct headspace for qualifying. the noise of the crowd couldn’t quite be drowned out, the way they called his name, restlessly chanting for him. he craved the pole position, craved the honour of standing on the top of the podium tomorrow, almost as much as he wanted you beside him. his balaclava went on, followed by his helmet, a new design to commemorate a weekend at home. he settled into the cockpit, completely clearing his mind. almost.

the laps around his hometown always meant more. it was a nostalgic route around the principality, one that took him back to his childhood, sat on the bus as a child who wanted to drive the red car. he owed that kid a good race, perhaps even a win. at this point, a race finish would do. charles pulled out of the garage and into the pit lane.

he topped q1. he topped q2. he topped q3.

pole position.

he pulled into parc ferme, ignoring the feeling of uneasiness. things were yet to go wrong for him, how long would this last? he gave his interview, deciding to lean into the elation of the situation. pole fucking position on home soil, and he didn’t even crash out. it felt too good to deny himself the opportunity to celebrate. the fastest man in the world. the interviews went by like a blur for once, the media circus usually dragging on. not today. he was distracted the entire time by the crowd. they loved him. he loved them too. it felt good to be loved.

with a spring in his step, he bounded though the paddock, stopping every few steps to take pictures and shake hands. it always felt good to come home. charles watched a young boy run back to his mother, eyes bright as he took in the signature that now adorned his ferrari cap. moments like those made all of the noise worth it. he made it into the ferrari building, exchanging a few more congratulatory hugs and handshakes. he finally made it through the suite, seeking a moment of quiet to make it all seem real, a moment to process that he’d done it. he shut the door to his drivers room, turning around, to be given the fright of his life.

“fuck, you scared me.” he slapped his hand over his heart, feeling the way it raced within his chest. it wasn’t just fear.

“i didn’t mean to.” the sound of your voice was like a break in the clouds, sunshine, the most beautiful song he’d ever heard before. he was already on a high, but the sight of you, hearing your voice, somehow elevated him even further.

“how did you even get in here?” he was puzzled, unsure of how you’d actually made it onto ferrari turf without being swiftly escorted back to the alpha tauri suite.

“that doesn’t matter right now.” you said urgently, crossing the short distance between you.

he felt himself smiling as he kissed you. everything felt better. the stagnant week that had passed by without you seemed to melt into nothing as you pressed yourself against him as close as you could get, hands desperately fisting the material of his race suit, as if you’d missed him as much as he’d missed you.

“congratulations.” you mumbled against his lips. he’d heard it a thousand times today but hearing you say it somehow meant more. you’d sought him out, potentially breaking into the ferrari suite to be here with him, to kiss him and congratulate him. that definitely meant more to him that bumping into a random stranger who just wanted a picture.

he used the opportunity of you breaking the kiss to pepper kisses down your neck, enjoying the way your head instantly fell back to give him access. he wished he could stay in here, locked away with you, but he had a briefing to get to and a strategy to discuss. it pained him to pull away from you, instantly missing the way you were panting under his touch.

“mon amour, i need to go.” he whispered. you looked at him with wide eyes. that was the first time he’d called you that and it was obvious that you’d both realised the same thing.

“don’t.” your smile was teasing but you were very serious.

“where will i find you later?” he watched your face drop, suddenly breaking eye contact. he quickly realised why. guilt.

“i, um, well i’m staying with pierre.” you said weakly, telling charles everything you needed to. the question was, which of the drivers made you feel guilty?

“i see.” charles’ reply lacked any emotion. he didn’t want you to know how much it hurt. instead, he found a solution to the problem, “i’ll pick you up, take you back to my place.” he said, eyes quickly widening when he realised just how suggestive it sounded. yes, he wanted you, but god, he didn’t need to make it quite so blatant. “sorry, er, i didn’t mean-“

you cut him off with your laughter, caressing his jaw with one hand. you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips which you both instantly wanted to take further, but you were both aware of how time constricted you.

“it’s okay. i’ll see you later.” you let yourself out of the room, trying to remain incognito as charles watched you exit the hospitality from the doorway of his room. he hoped that he wouldn’t have to keep watching you walk away from him, no matter how much he enjoyed the view.

sunday morning in monaco was always chaos. there were hoards of people who thought they were important blocking every which way, as if charles wasn’t already frustrated enough. he hadn’t seen you last night. no, all he’d seen was a text from you, telling him that oh no, poor pierre had his strategy fucked and he needs me now! charles was quietly seething, slumped in the seat of his ferrari outside pierre’s apartment complex when he’d received your message. maybe his race weekends in monaco were a little bit cursed.

he’d been trying to steer clear of pierre all morning, quite frankly sick of the sight of him. the only thing that he had today that pierre didn’t was pole position and it didn’t seem like enough. charles boarded the lorry for the drivers parade, trying to keep as much space between him and the alpha tauri driver as possible, which probably looked strange, considering they usually spent such ventures glued to each other. his plan to avoid pierre for the rest of his life quickly came crashing down when the frenchman made a beeline for charles, leaving yuki behind.

“are you avoiding me?” great. pierre’s blatant directness was infuriating at the best of times, but today it managed to get on charles’ last nerve.

“why would i do that? just trying to keep the focus.” it didn’t even sound true. pierre started blankly at the monegasque.

“bullshit. were you ever going to tell me?” pierre narrowed his eyes, just as he had been doing all week, except this time, he made no attempt to try and hide it. charles gulped, feeling the blood drain from his face.

“tell you what?” play dumb, it works with the media, it might also work with pierre. pierre scoffed.

“i’m not mad.” pierre offered. well, he sure looked it. “she’s a great person, i don’t blame you for being interested in her. i just don’t think she’s looking for a relationship.” wait, what?

“i’m sorry?” charles was truly confused.

“listen, i see the way you look at her but i wouldn’t go there. she’s been distant lately, i think she’s interested in someone. won’t tell me who, though.” pierre tutted. what the fuck?

“pierre, i need to tell-“ charles started, only to be interrupted.

“it’s fine, i get it. she’s amazing. i’m just giving you a heads up.” and then he was gone, pulled away into a conversation with daniel.

charles stood there by himself for a second, dumbfounded. pierre had no idea what was going on, yet somehow he’d convinced himself that he knew the entire picture. maybe he should have felt bad. maybe he should have felt awful for the way he felt about you behind pierre’s back, but instead, a feeling of pride blossomed in charles’ chest.

it was him. he was the reason for your distance, he was the person you were interested, he is was the person you wanted. charles had gotten it wrong when you’d said you needed to be there for pierre last night. at the end of the day, you were still pierre’s best friend, of course you’d be there when pierre needed you. finally, your relationship with the frenchman had changed. charles felt triumphant, and the race hadn’t even started yet.

he ended the race weekend wishing that it never had.

he was absolutely mortified, furious. it was a loss, as far as he was concerned, an utterly gut wrenching one. p4 meant absolutely fucking nothing to him. he left the track as soon as he could, trying not to have too much of a pity party. he was still seeing red, literally too, unable to escape the swathes of fans that had come to watch him win. it made him feel sick. he finally seemed able to breath when he’d slammed the door to his apartment, chucking his keys somewhere and his bag down onto the floor.

he wanted another shower, the hurried one he’d had at the track post race leaving him unrelaxed and somehow even more irritated than he already was. he stepped into the large en-suite, turning the water on as hot as it would go, letting the steam fill the bathroom. he stepped back out to get his phone, when he heard a knock on the door. he wondered who would dare bother him now. he grunted, quickly making his way over to the door, ready to tell whoever it was on the other side to fuck off, politely of course. but when he saw you standing there, playing nervously with your rings, a hopeful look in your eyes, he couldn’t find the strength to ask you to leave, no matter how much he wanted to be left alone by everyone. you included.

“i can’t talk right now.” charles was straight to the point, talking a leaf out of pierre’s book.

“i didn’t come here to talk.” you affirmed, standing your ground, your darkened eyes telling him exactly what you were here for.

“then why are you here?” he wanted you to say it. he needed to hear it.

“to see if i can make you feel better.” the way the words rolled off of your tongue dissolved several years worth of self control.

he reached out for you and you met him halfway, lips meeting for the third time. charles managed to pull you inside his apartment, blindly shutting his front door behind him as he guided you over to the nearest wall he could find, holding you against it. your hands were in his hair, tugging deliciously at the short strands and he was groaning unabashedly into your mouth. his hands snaked down your body grasping your waist firmly as he deepened the kiss, fingertips gripping your flesh. he wanted you out of the short dress as quick as humanly possible, after all, the shower was waiting.

charles let his hands wander further, fiddling with the hem of your dress, hands skimming your thighs, before he was picking you up. you almost squealed, throwing your arms around his neck and wrapping your legs around him tightly. he could happily get used to the feeling of you wrapped around him. charles moved you both away from the wall and into his bedroom, not stopping there. he carried you into the en-suite, steam pouring out of the walk in shower, the water hitting the marbled floor in a way that beckoned for you both to get under the stream.

“care to join me?” his voice was low, gravelly, a clear signpost that he’d had a long, hard day. you smirked.

“it would be my pleasure.” you whispered in his ear, hands moving to get your dress off as soon as he let your feet touch the ground. charles tried not to completely lose himself in you already, but it was hard not to. he’d wanted this for far too long not to appreciate every second of you on display for him. all for him. he somehow managed to undress himself, spurred along by your increasing nakedness, desperately needing to catch up. he felt less bad about his obvious gawking at you when he noticed you trailing your eyes hungrily over his skin, in a way that told him that you’d needed this for a while, too.

you turned away to walk towards the shower, slowly making your way underneath the hot water. he watched you go, knowing that he could enjoy the moment, because for once, he’d be able to follow after you. he watched the way the water moved over your skin, leaving you glistening, waiting for him. your hair was slicked back, pushed out of your face, sending tiny droplets of water down your collarbone and over the curve of your breasts. charles watched you for a moment too long, simply trying to convince himself that you were real, that this was actually happening. he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, but he wasn’t about to complain.

he stepped into the shower, joining you finally. his arms wrapped around your waist, your back flush against his chest, your body feeling everything he had to offer you, and it felt like a lot. he moved your soaked hair over one of your shoulders, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. he nipped at the skin, soothing the bites with his tongue, slowly trailing his hands that had been wrapped around your waist up your body. you threw your head back as he continued to kiss at your neck, whilst his hands moved to cup your breasts. he pinched your nipples, teasing the hardened buds with his fingertips, your quiet moans hitting his ears directly as your head rested against his shoulder.

charles was growing impatient, and so were you, rolling your hips to grind your ass against him. he moaned at the pressure, placing his hands back on your waist to turn you around to face him. you pulled him in for a kiss as he walked you both further into the shower, until your back was pressed against the wall. it was cold against your heated skin, causing you to shiver, arching further into him. your chests were pushed together, hands back in his hair as you gasped into his mouth.

“what do you want, mon ange?”

“want you to feel good.” charles was sure he felt all of the blood in his body rush towards his cock. you were quite literally a wet dream.

“is that all you want, baby? don’t you want me to make you feel good?” charles would have loved some attention for himself, but knew he wouldn’t last if you gave it to him. besides, nothing would have gotten him off as much as seeing you writhing against the shower wall, all because of him.

he kept one hand on your waist, the other one travelling down your body. he ran his fingers slowly from the top of your thigh down until he was caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh. you were looking at him so desperately, so intensely, that it almost made him dizzy, your eyes never leaving his. one of his fingers ran through your folds, making you hiss, hips instantly bucking at the contact. your reaction spurred him on, two fingers now tracing the seam of your pussy, both digits instantly soaked. he could have cum right then and there, painfully hard at the sight of you, the feel of you on his fingers. the same fingers he used to race around the streets of his hometown. suddenly he didn’t care at all about losing the race. he felt powerful. you made him feel powerful.

he rubbed his fingers over your clit, slowly at first, until you were needy for him, his name tumbling from your lips in the form of a beg. he replaced his fingers with his thumb, sliding two of his fingers inside of you. you were moaning helplessly at the sensation, taking everything he gave you, without your eyes ever leaving his. it was like you’d both somehow entranced one other, neither of you able to look away, no matter how desperate you were to let your eyes flutter shut as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

charles continued to fuck you with his fingers, his actions leaving your inner thighs soaking, nothing to do with the hot water pouring over you both. he traced patterns into your clit with the pad of his thumb, toying with his rhythm to keep you on your toes. charles could feel you tightening, inching closer and closer to your orgasm and it drove him insane, desperate to send you over the edge, spiralling for him. soon enough, you were there, panting and whining as you came, trying to pull him closer.

you kissed him ferociously while he slowed down his ministrations. he pulled his hand away from your wet heat, using it to grab at your thigh and hoist it up over his waist. his body was quickly back against yours, hand splayed across your thigh as he held you against the wall. his nose brushed yours, as he guided his cock through your folds, both your breaths catching as he finally, finally, thrusted into you. as he bottomed out, you melted even further into one another, breath mingling as one of his hands held your thigh that rested on his waist, and the other locked with yours. the hand that held yours raised your clasped hands up and over your head, keeping you pinned against the wall, spread out delectably for him. your free hand was wrapped around his water soaked body, keeping him close as you dug your nails into the muscles of his toned back.

he rocked into you, over and over, both of your moans meeting between your parted lips, electrifying the air between you. you were insatiable, never faltering, making charles feel better than any other person had to his recollection. you were perfectly in tune with him, body moving with his as if this was the way it was always supposed to be. you must have agreed with that, the way your sounds of pleasure were ricochetting off of the bathroom walls, fuelling charles’ ego in the way a race win never could. just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, you started to clench around him, the hand on his back finding it’s way back into his damp hair, as his hips snapped into yours. he let go of your thigh, bringing his hand between your slick bodies to rub your clit, coaxing you right to the edge. the feeling of your body reacting to him sent his eyes rolling back in his skull.

“charles, fuck, i’m so close.” you whimpered. he was in ecstasy.

“yeah? you gonna cum for me, mon ange? hmm?” he managed to get his words out, noting how exhausted, how desperate he sounded.

charles didn’t get a verbal response from you, only a broken, earth shattering moan that set his entire body on fire. you let yourself go, falling to pieces in his arms and all he could do was watch, quickly meeting his own end. everything was white and hot and every single one of his nerve endings were wired all of the sudden, the hairs on his body standing on end. you shook in his arms, crying out his name one last time as you came back down to earth.

charles pulled out of you, fucked out smile lazily creeping onto his face. the entirety of monaco chanting his name didn’t even come close to how good you made him feel. you really had meant it when you’d said you wanted to make him feel better. your eyes met and you looked at him shyly, a coy smile on your face that made him want to kiss you forever and ever.

you both stayed underneath the warm water a little while longer, gently washing each other as you relaxed. once you were both done, charles stepped out first, braving the cold air to hand you a fluffy white towel, smiling to himself as you wrapped yourself up in it. this was what he wanted. quiet moments with you that dulled out the background noise. he didn’t just want them in dark booths in clubs and in the back of taxis while pierre rambled to the driver, he wanted them all of the time. he craved this kind of intimacy with you, the domesticity of seeing you in a towel that he owned.

once you’d both dried off, he found a t-shirt that you could wear, taking your worn dress and placing it with his laundry. he watched your absentmindedly towel dry your hair, the t-shirt hitting your mid thighs as you carded your fingers through the tangles. it was quiet in his bedroom, peaceful. he pulled the covers back on his bed, folding back the covers on the other side of the mattress too. your smile at the gesture told him that you’d stay, that you’d accept his silent offer and join him in the bed. you settled in comfortably beside him, head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you protectively, lovingly. a buzz from the bedside table caused you both to look over, quickly choosing to put your attention back on one another.

you both ignored the name that lit up your phone, blissfully pretending like neither of you noticed.

pierre would have to get through this solemn night without you.

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppetangelika @wmaximoffz @starlightoctavia @japanesekel @stardustinggold @vinvantae @chaoticallypan @ashleyo1611 @ggaslyp1 @poofy-baby-unicorns @dr3lover @smiithys @turningxstrange @lees0015 @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @1missglum1 @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @shinydragondelusion @alexk2002 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @f-1-fan

long story short, the taglist got a bit broken and now looks like this lol. hmu if you wanna be added or removed <33

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc fic #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 angst #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine

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