seasidepierre

[seasidepierre]

Hi. I disappeared for a long time, but I just wanted to say that Esteban is my new obsession of the moment. I'm totally okay. (it's false, send help)

ESTEBAN OCON P16 TO P4 I KNOW WHO MY GOAT IS 🐐🐐🐐

[seasidepierre]

Damn babe, I missed your words so much 🥹🩵 So happy you brought those two back, they’re obviously the best!

Private Number # Chapter Twenty One

Daniel Ricciardo x Aero Engineer!Reader

Summary: You didn’t like him. That much was clear to both of you. He was cocky and arrogant and totally oblivious to all of the work you and your team did for him. No one else saw him for the egomaniac he was - only you. You were forced to work for him but that didn’t mean you had to fall under the spell he had trapped everyone else under. And you made sure that he knew that.

Chapters: 21/?

Warnings/ Rating: Swearing.

Word Count: 2144

Posted: 18 Sep 2023

Waking up in Daniel’s arms was something you could very easily get used to. It hadn’t happened before, but the familiarity and pure rightness of it was hard to deny. Just like back at his apartment in Monaco that fateful afternoon – had it really only been a few days ago?–  you drank in the sight of sun-kissed skin, the lean cuts of muscle and the delicate puffs of air escaping through his mouth every few seconds. But unlike the last time, there would be no running away from one another.

After the finally-spoken promise of sticking it out with each other last night, you doubted there would be much that could drag you from the side of this exceedingly irritating man. And he was still irritating to you, that much would always stay the same. Just like you imagined that you would stay impossibly stubborn and somewhat snooty to him – only now it was exasperatedly cute traits. The kind of softly admired traits people ‘aww’ed over when they weren’t tearing their hair out over them.

You dragged your gaze over the long curve of his nose and his still-closed eyelids, and your thoughts slowly wandered to what this day would bring for the both of you. In amongst the bliss of you both finally pulling your heads out of your asses, and finally admitting that the intense dislike you had for each other was something else entirely, both of you had pointedly ignored the large Christian Horner and Helmut Marko sized elephant in the room.

The two men and the marketing team’s plot to unveil your direct relation to one of the legends of the sport would mean that any privacy and anonymity you had worked to maintain on the grid and in your life would be shattered. Because it would never just be one interview that Red Bull would ask for, it would be repetitive and invasive, not to mention the rest of the media circus jumping on the bandwagon. Your work – the obviously more important contribution you made to the sport –would be completely side-lined for you to talk about a man that you loved but had barely known.

You had been so young when he died, that over the years memories had faded and been replaced. You were fairly sure that the only reason you could picture him so clearly in your mind was because of the millions of photos of him scattered across the internet. There were people still working on the paddock that knew him far better than you had ever got the chance to – and yet that wouldn’t stop journalists and teams from hounding you, the ever elusive child of legendary Jack Shelby. God, you could almost see the headlines now…

Add on top of that your new blossoming relationship with Daniel, and fucking hell, the entire sporting world would be in a tizzy. Not that you were even sure just how public Daniel and you had planned on making the relationship. Was it even a relationship yet? Like, it was obvious that the two of you felt something for each other – and that something was seriously intense if the rumple of your bedsheets and the tousled state of your bedroom, hallway and kitchen was to say.

“Those are some pretty deep frown lines for this early in the morning.” Daniel’s husky voice broke through your thoughts and dragged you back to reality. The same reality that showed you a tanned god of a man with his eyes still shut and a small smile playing on his lips, laying by your side. 

“How would you even know? Your eyes are shut.” You quipped back, rolling up to your side and reaching the small distance to flick the tip of his nose gently. The tilt of his lips broke into a fully-fledged grin, but still he didn’t open his eyes.

“I don’t have to open them to know you’re frowning, your brain is exceptionally loud…even when you’re not saying anything.” Daniel mumbles, rubbing his face into the pillow harder. His eyes slowly flicker open, and his smile somehow grows even larger. “See, I knew you were frowning.”

You roll your eyes and flop back down beside him with a huffing laugh. “My apologies, I’ll try and control the volume of my thoughts in future,”

“What’s got your thoughts turned up to eleven this early in the morning? You’re not bailing on me already are you?” Insecurity and concern slipped into his last joking question, that you were quick to remedy with a peck to his lips.

“No bailing, just thinking about what plans Christian and Helmut are concocting… I worked so hard for so long to stay anonymous and now… It’s all about to just…implode. It’ll be like all the things I’ve done in the aero engineering space will just be completely invalidated just because of who I was born to, like my contributions are going up in a cloud of smoke.”

“Hey,” Daniel strokes a hand over the curve of your bare shoulder, gently running his hands down the soft skin of your arm, and back up. “You were never anonymous, your genius brain and loud mouth made sure that you were never hidden in the shadows. Hell, I’m pretty sure that no one else ever so obviously gave me shit as hard as you did – that gave you a pretty big rep around the paddock.”

“The rest of the world doesn’t know that though,” you mumbled, letting Daniel drag you back into the curve of his body. You rolled over and pressed your back into his chest, closing your eyes as Daniel’s lips replaced the hand that had stroked over your shoulder. “They're all going to call me a nepo-baby and it’s never going to be the same again.”

“Fuck ‘em all.” Daniel whispered. You let out a small laugh. Such an easy phrase for him to throw out, especially when Daniel was as self-assured as he was. When he’s in the top end of only twenty people in the world to compete in the sport he couldn’t afford not to be. “No, baby, I’m serious. You know who you are, you know what you’re worth. The car and the respect of your team speaks louder than any PR stunt of an interview ever could.”

You didn’t respond – you weren’t convinced, but Daniel’s unwavering faith had a flaming warmth building in your chest. You were pretty fucking sure it was more than just affection at this stage. Instead of speaking, you pressed harder against his chest, kissed the only bit of him you had access to –his bicep– and closed your eyes, prepared to sleep away your problems for just a little longer.

######################################

“Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking–” Christian started, and already you were wishing he would just shut up. On top of that, you were also wishing that you had taken up Daniel’s offer of just calling in sick and lazing in bed with him all day. But you couldn’t hide from your problems forever, and you were done running from them. So there you were, sitting inside Christian’s office with him and some marketing PR lady and trying to find a way to navigate the minefield that was going to be this conversation.

The marketing/PR lady – Beth? Belle? – shit, you couldn’t remember her name now – politely cleared her throat. Christian cut himself off, and gestured for her to speak with a brief apology. “So we were thinking,” she started, “that we would release a couple short interviews with a few key members of our team, introduce them to the faces behind the success of this season. Just a person from each division, hit the key diversity points–“ god, there was so much wrong with that, you thought –”and then, BAM, we release a longer form interview where we break the internet; the aeroengineer genius who revolutionised our car, and not only that, she’s the long lost daughter of a legend of the sport. What do you think?”

Christian’s open grin told you all you needed to know about what he thought of the plan. But your stoney silence fell on deaf ears. Without even giving you the chance to speak your piece, Christian and Beth(?) had already started speaking again, brainstorming ideas of how to maximise exposure, the brand deals and other exploitative profit makers they could use you for.

You hadn’t even said that you’d agree, and they were talking about making a series out of it or getting the Netflix team involved, because ‘oh my gosh, Christian, imagine the exposure we’d get if they got her on Drive to Survive. It would go viral!’. And you were about ready to go and find a high cliff to jump off.

Damn it, you wish Daniel was here. He’d offered to come in with you, to make sure that you weren’t walked all over, but you had assured him that you were a big girl, independent and a boss bitch in her own right. You were sure that you could handle Christian and his marketing lackey by yourself. Now you weren’t too sure.

“Obviously, due to the overtime hours you’d be doing to facilitate this kind of promotional work, we’d be giving you a significant pay increase with all of these extra commitments,” Christian finally turned his attention back to you.

“I don’t want a pay increase. I don’t want to do any of this. I never wanted to be known as Jack Shelby’s daughter.” You said it with no inflection, working overtime to keep your voice emotionless. If you lost your cool, they’d never take you seriously. Ahh, the joys of being a professional woman.

“You’re obviously more than just Jack Shelby’s daughter,” Belle(?) said. “You’re a highly valued member of the team, but if we can just use this information to our advantage as a way of–”

“ –Use me to your advantage, you mean.” You cut her off. Words flowed from you, vitriol that you’d held in for the last twenty four hours spilling from you. You were not going to be used and abused for their own exploitative profit margins. 

“I’ve given the last several years of my life to this team to make sure that the car you just said I revolutionised was the best on the grid, but when it comes to finally acknowledging me as someone in this team, it’s in conjunction with who I’m related to? I’m sorry, and I mean this with all the respect it deserves, but fuck that. I’m worth more than that. And so are the people who are just the ‘diversity key points’.”

Chrisian is the first to speak again, after the silence stretches on and on. “Of course you are, that’s why we would be offering you a significant bonus for–”

“ –No, I don’t think you are understanding me, Mr. Horner. So let me be perfectly clear: throwing money at me isn’t going to change my mind about this. I don’t want or need that money. I’m Jack Shelby’s daughter for god’s sake, I’ve inherited more than I can spend in my lifetime. What I want and need from this company is for them to respect my decision to differentiate myself from my father’s legacy, and to win a world championship with a car that I have spent thousands of hours working on. And I want to do that from behind the scenes.”

This time, the silence stretched on longer than previously. It was clear that neither Christian or Beth knew what to say, and if their gaping fish mouths were anything to go by, they hadn’t expected their million-dollar-marketing-scheme to be so vehemently against being used. You could almost see their brains scrambling to find an alternative plan, another way to convince you to agree – but their plan was going to go up in smoke.

The scrape of your chair against the floor seemed to echo inside the office as you stood.

“If that will be all, I’d like to get back to work that actually matters.” 

You almost made it out of the office before another thought struck you. In for a penny in for a pound. “Also, out of respect for the business I’m telling you this, Christian, not because you’re entitled to knowing my personal business but because you’re invested in his; Daniel and I are together. And before you ask, yes it's serious and no I will not be expanding on it any further than that. He and I will be speaking to HR about it soon.”

The glass door swung shut behind you, effectively cutting off any response the man could’ve possibly had to that particular bombshell. Covering your mouth, you disguise your proud little grin as you make your way down to the driving sim to see your boyfriend.

Your serious, soon-to-be-HR-approved boyfriend. 

######################################

For those who waited with such patience, and showed much kindness - thank you. I could never let this story live unfinished and rent free in my head forever. Hopefully the wait has been worth it x

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@seasidepierre​ @haterpenny​ @summertimemadness​ @sarcastic--bitchy​ @weirdestmentalityphilosopher​  @its-astrotea-love​ @marvelgirlswwe​  @miahelen​ @noope306​ @hockey-and-wine​ @isntmadrid​ @feminismisaflawlessbitch​ @awalkinthe--park​ @tee-jay-ell​  @anaxlivia​ @earth-to-lottie​ @honeybadgerstan​ @riccardoshoey​ @colourofinfinity​ @midnightroses07​ @kissingvalentino​ @gingerxarmy​  @itsreigns​ @okayleafs​ @thinemineours​ @hellolipoops​ 

@thatchickwiththecamera​ @mjuikoli​ @angryhamsterenergy​ @loverofallthingsdannyric​  @tall-tanned-tattoo​  @ohpuckyeah​ @danielxricciardo​ @ggaslyp1​  @cjbarnesss​  @one-oblivious-nerd​  @harley-sunday​  @damndanielricciardo​ @lharrietg​ @breeze-bloks​ @sugardontbesweet​ @sabsi2222​ @rule107​ @defnotsobbing​  @theworldofemmy​ @dr3-merclaren​ @japanesekel​ @j-brielmalfoy​

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#navy’s reads #navy’s recs #art outlaw

[seasidepierre]

Very Sunkissed coded, not gonna lie.

© Federico Vecchio

#sunkissed face

[seasidepierre]

migraine has decided to put an halt to the cozy night, so I'll head to bed and stop staring at my still too bright screen for tonight..

Hope you've enjoyed catching up with Tink!!

#small talk

[seasidepierre]

how about tink and charles blurb about the bee hotels - i feel like seb would be grinning so much about it all and tink would be filming everything 🐰

If there was one thing Seb that missed about Formula 1, it probably was the way Charles was still hanging over every of your words and moves. You’d just be breathing and he’d be there, thinking you’re the absolute best at doing so. It was hilarious and endearing, reminding him of how much of a sap he was back then when he met his now wife and the mother of his children. He must have been just as bad. You had arrived in the team right at the same time as Charles, only a few months later. Same age as him, young and full of life, unable to sit still for more than fifteen minutes, but with an overflowing passion that felt like a tidal wave most of the time. It had been a huge pleasure for Seb to watch you come up with ideas for the Ferrari socials and growing into your job, that he still sometimes felt like you might have been too young to be thrown into that quickly. There had been that sense of protection that he couldn’t have ignored when it came to you and Charles, which truly had meant more to you two than he ever thought it would.

Needless to say, on the rare occasions Seb came back to the paddock after his retirement, he made sure to visit his two favourite people and tease them to no end about their change of relationship status that he called for since they met, pretty much.

So in Japan, when an invitation was issued to the Ferrari lineup and com team to decorate and inaugurate the buzzing corner, you were sure to be up for more teasing, which didn’t wait too much to arrive because as soon as Seb saw you, he was on it.

“Tink!” He yelled at you, sweeping you in his arms to squeeze the life out of you. “How are you doing, little fairy?” “I’m doing amazing,” you giggled. “How are the kids?” “They’re doing great! Look, the girls made me bracelets!”

Seb proudly showed off the black and yellow bracelets branded with letter beads that spelled “Papa” which made you grin even bigger.

“Where’s your shadow? Peter Pan is still looking for it?” Seb smiled. “He’s coming, you know how he is with his hair when it’s not exactly like he wants it to be.” “Heh, he has to be handsome for you,” Seb shrugged, a teasing grin on his lips. “He doesn’t need anymore, he’s already secured the deal, we’ve signed a new contract just a few months ago,” you joked.

Charles made it just in time for the small drive around that Seb had organised, so he could proudly show the work he had done for his little buzzing corner. The bee hotels looked incredible and if you trusted the whole installation around, you knew you were up for a good time to inaugurate this new and special place. You took heaps of photos and videos of the Ferrari boys painting their canvas and bee hotel, made sure you had plenty of content to post and finally, finally, came to a stop when Seb came by to check on Ferrari’s bee hotel.

“You guys did a pretty good job,” he smiled at Charles. “Heh, we tried our best,” he blushed. “I feel like you had an advantage, because you had literal Tinkerbell to help you out,” he smirked and grabbed you for a quick side hug. “I barely did anything.”

Charles grinned at you, in that very Charles way he had when he looked at you and Seb couldn’t help laughing at him a little. It had always been so obvious, it shouldn’t have taken that long for the two of you to finally get it together.

“You do realise I made that happen,” Seb proudly announced, grabbing Charles on his other side. “You did not,” Charles huffed. “I didn’t lose so many challenges on purpose for you to look good to her, just so you could downplay it three years later.” “I beat you fair and square!” Charles gasped. “Nah, you won because I knew it’d mean Tink here would look at you like you were a champion,” the former racer admitted. “I also may have dropped so many hints that she actually liked you back, I’m surprised it took you so much time to finally understand!” “You didn’t know,” it was your turn to huff and blush. “I knew from the moment you two met.” “I call bullshit!” “Call it as you wish, but I knew,” Seb laughed. “Jokes aside.. I’m really happy for you two, you know?” “We know,” you smiled, dropping your head against Seb’s shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of us for that long.” “My pleasure.. Now.. Who’s gonna tell me why that prancing horse looks so ugly?” “Charles doesn’t know how to use a stamp.” “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” Charles yelled with indignation.

An hour later, the entire world knew, because the video was posted on Instagram, with a caption full of bee puns and with a picture of Seb and Charles together, of course.

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Support a writer, reblog their works!

Tell me what you liked the most about this! If you want to help me support my writing, you can also buy me a ko-fi 🥺🤍

taglist: @lu-morningstar @zayniegal @baueoud @letsstarsfalling @alliss19 @sirlewismybeloved @spiidergirlsworld @mae-266 @vioaglkvs @simxican @lewispool @its-astrotea-love  @toofarintomcu @pizza-portal @carotrujillo @parkerbunny @layazul @avsensio @gothicwidowsworld @sirlewismybeloved @paprikabadger @mazzbarnes @ireallydontknowdudee @charlesleclercje @obxcalm @darkice99 @mayamess @j-briefmalfoy @superdeath  @pedrodaddypascal @allison-rosewood-maximoff @honeybadger03 @altalin @adiaz-25  @theduchessinme @idkiwantchocolatee @actual-spawn-of-satan @spideyanakin @multilovebot  @marauvdersfate @dr3lover @reiding-and-writing @lovingroscoee @enjoymyloves @eternalharry @teamspideyman @iamasimpingh0e @calmleclerc @andziiiiaaa @spngi @yeolsbubbles @ophcelia @coffeehurricanes @haloxmendes @ohthemisssery @im-an-overthinker @blueflorals @wintergilmore3 @honethatty12 @gayyvodka6 @tempo-rary-fix @organasith @buendiabebeta @copper-boom

#cozy night #cozy nights #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x socialmedia!you #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x reader #formula one fan fiction #formula one fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fan fic #f1 fanfiction #my writing #snmg

[seasidepierre]

Can we see what tink and charles get up to on their off season/summer break - either when they were crushing or when they actually got together?

The off season was always a weird time for you, when work became sparse but when you had to keep an entire nation of Tifosi occupied and somewhat fed with a carefully curated content plan that involved both drivers and throwbacks from the previous season, while hyping them up for the following one. The team had come up with a lot of changes in the past year or so. Your boss had changed, first of all, with Mattia leaving the team and Fred coming up to the red house. His integration to the team had been gradual, with caution and defiance first, then with open arms when they realised how much changes and order he was bringing to the team you all loved and lived for. Fred had been a bit reticent to truly work with the communication teams, at first, because he was much more comfortable in front of a pitwall than a camera, but you had found an ally in Fred and he had warmed up to you like the rest of the team. Your nickname now rolled off of his tongue easily and he seeked you out in a crowd of red every single time something was to be celebrated. In those changes, the team found a new way to work and your communication plans came to change a bit, finding new tones and enjoying the room left to you to joke around a bit more. You finally dived head first into TikTok which you hadn’t been allowed to, at first, but you found a rhythm there that truly worked well for you and the Tifosi, if you trusted the comments you got back.

The one constant thing had been Charles, working tirelessly to bring the prancing horse back to pride and covering you in a warm blanket of love every single day you spent together.

The decision to move to Monaco had been the right one, in hindsight. It’s not like you didn’t have a place in Maranello or that Italy was no longer enough for you, but Charles was your home and you would make sure that you would always come back home after a race, both of you.

It’s not like you made things truly public, but it was a known fact now that the Ferrari Admin was Charles’ girl and nothing seemed to have changed in the paddock regarding this. The comments, though, have gotten either awfully comfortable asking you to post certain pictures or events, or completely derogatory, when every good looking picture of Charles posted on Instagram was called out for being “biased”.

Needless to say, between everything that happened in the team and her extra work to make sure the fans knew you were still there for your abilities and not who you were sleeping with, you were a bit exhausted and welcomed the winter break with open arms.

Loved up underneath a blanket in Monaco, you watched as Charles played on his piano mindlessly, his brain disconnected and miles away from the apartment. A book rested on your lap and a still fuming cup of tea was waiting for you on the coffee table, dropped here by the pianist who made sure to deliver a soft kiss on the top of your head to top it off in the best of manners. You had just gotten an idea of post for the Instagram page and were now browsing your phone’s thousands of pictures to find the rightful one that would work for your idea. You were so engrossed in it that you didn’t even register the music stopping and the couch sinking a little on your side.

“Are you gonna make a fool out of me again?” Charles whispered against your cheek, his nose coming to rest on your skin, his lips trying to find a path to your temple. “I never make a fool out of you, Orsachiotto,” you smiled. “That’s false and you know it.” “Too bad for you,” you shrugged. “You make a fool out of me all the time, even when you’re not on your damn phone,” he sighed.

You frowned and turned your head to find him dramatically sagging back to the couch, drowning in an oversized sweatshirt, too large joggers and thick socks covering his toes. He looked warm and cozy. He looked awfully inviting, too.

“What do you mean?” “I love you so much that I do dumb things all the time,” Charles whined. “What can I say? I like being in charge,” you giggled.

And in charge you were, all afternoon, especially when you left your phone on the coffee table and demanded Charles to take you back to bed.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Support a writer, reblog their works!

Tell me what you liked the most about this! If you want to help me support my writing, you can also buy me a ko-fi 🥺🤍

taglist: @lu-morningstar @zayniegal @baueoud @letsstarsfalling @alliss19 @sirlewismybeloved @spiidergirlsworld @mae-266 @vioaglkvs @simxican @lewispool @its-astrotea-love  @toofarintomcu @pizza-portal @carotrujillo @parkerbunny @layazul @avsensio @gothicwidowsworld @sirlewismybeloved @paprikabadger @mazzbarnes @ireallydontknowdudee @charlesleclercje @obxcalm @darkice99 @mayamess @j-briefmalfoy @superdeath  @pedrodaddypascal @allison-rosewood-maximoff @honeybadger03 @altalin @adiaz-25  @theduchessinme @idkiwantchocolatee @actual-spawn-of-satan @spideyanakin @multilovebot  @marauvdersfate @dr3lover @reiding-and-writing @lovingroscoee @enjoymyloves @eternalharry @teamspideyman @iamasimpingh0e @calmleclerc @andziiiiaaa @spngi @yeolsbubbles @ophcelia @coffeehurricanes @haloxmendes @ohthemisssery @im-an-overthinker @blueflorals @wintergilmore3 @honethatty12 @gayyvodka6 @tempo-rary-fix @organasith @buendiabebeta @copper-boom

#my writing #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula one fan fiction #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc x you #snmg #cozy nights #cozy night

[seasidepierre]

hii, hope you're having a good day. just wanted to say i love Sunkissed Face. i'm always checking your account for the updates. your writing of charles is exactly how i imagined him and i like your writing. i hope you'll continue :)) <3

Thank you very much for the kind words, I'm so glad you love Sunkissed Face!! 🥺🤍

#ask #kingofmyymind

[seasidepierre]

Cozy Night, tonight?

Hi everyone!

It's been a while since I came on here, so I thought I'd come out of my lair and catch up a little bit with you!

The novel is going great. I'm up to 60k words and 20 chapters, which is insane to think about!! But I need a break from my characters, because I've been living in their world for so long and it's getting a bit heavy on my shoulders lol. I love them and I can't wait to delve more into their lives and bring them where they should be in the end, but as of right now, I need to visit some place else!

I thought I'd bring the cozy nights back for tonight, because it's been a while since I wrote little blurbs for your liking. So send me your prompts/ideas and I'll get into them tonight!

Can't wait to spend tonight with you..

Love,

Seaside Pierre Xx

#small talk

[seasidepierre]

you're fics give me a sense of nostalgia that i can't explain, and I've literally never experienced anything mentioned in your fics. lol

Also my standards are now literally higher than the atomsphere, why can't I have a charles leclerc in my life 😔.

Anyways, if it isn't apparent yet, I just wanted to say that i really love your fics, they are just 😘🤌

Oh wow, that is one of the best compliments I could get 🥺 Thank you so much for reading my fics and for taking the time to send me something! I've fell a little bit out of love with Tumblr because it became a consumption type of medium, where everything I got out ended up with a big amount of likes but no feedback and that's what I crave the most, so I'm really, really glad to get your words in my inbox tonight!!

Sending tons of love your way! 🤍

#ask

[seasidepierre]

i miss you and your fics, hope you're doing well ❤️❤️❤️

Hi babe!

I'm doing alright, I've known better days but I'm not in the deepest of my moods, so I guess it's still a win!

I'm thinking about hosting a cosy night tonight, it's been a while. You up for that? 🤍

#ask

[seasidepierre]

You're really gonna make of my birthday a Soup Day??? 😭

Soup Day: a proposal for a TLT fandom holiday

Because Mean Girls wear pink on October 3rd. Star Wars celebrates May the 4th. Hitchhikers and Discworld fans don towels and lilacs (respectively) on May 25th.

Locked Tomb friends, we need a holiday.

I propose that 9/9 of every year is Soup Day. We celebrate, of course, by consuming soups. We share photos, recipes, and if you have a group of irl bone bitches, the soup itself.

If you can’t eat soup, put bread in a drawer. If you can’t eat bread, stare in anguish at a cup of lukewarm tea while contemplating the ways your God has disappointed you. Use your own moral judgment on whether you consume cow products on that day, as cows do exhibit mourning behavior.

Anyways that’s my plan for dinner on September 9th and you’re all invited! 🖤🖤🖤 I’m telling everyone nice and early so you can start hoarding bones. For stock, of course.

[seasidepierre]

Thank you for the 2k followers, people 🥹

Absolutely insane to think you all are still reading me even though I somewhat went awol during the last few months.

To thank you all for it, I guess I can tell you that I’m writing a whole ass novel, and that’s taking me a lot of time and a lot of focus. That’s why I haven’t written as much fanfics as I was before, but I promise you, I’m still writing. Very slowly but I am.

I can’t wait to tell you how it’s going, but for now, let’s just say that the first draft is about 1/4 in and I’m taking so many detours it’s comical. I fully will stop writing to stop on the dumbest details and will end up sketching things about each character for no other fucking reason that thinking it might make things easier. Spoiler: it doesn’t.

I hope to show it to you all one day and I hope you’ll like it enough to support it and maybe buy it at some point.

In the meantime, I would love to have a little celebration for the 2k with you all. Maybe a cozy night session? Let me know what you’d like to do, I’d love to spend this special time with you.

Lots of love Xx

#small talk #i'm gonna cry #you have no idea how much it means to me to have your support

[seasidepierre]

I adore the new sunkissed part! Fluffy perfection! Also the dads reactions were perfection. The chapter was the bestest fluff, I lovedit and it was just what I needed. Thank you so much for writing and posting ❤️

Thank you so much for your kind words, they mean the world to me!!

#ask #sunkissed face

[seasidepierre]

So I just read Part 8 of Sun Kissed Face and my favorite part was how it felt like a relationship in terms of Charles interactions with Tom and the dad. Having a partner have their own relationship/way to bond with people in your life is super important. Charles saying "that's between your father and me" had me pleasantly shook

I'm so happy you liked it!! Thank you for taking the time to send me something about it and for noticing how I was building the relationships between Charles and the rest of the Sunkissed Girlie's people, it means the world to me!

#naturastace #sunkissed face

[seasidepierre]

Can you believe Pierre got a podium in Spa?

Can you believe I was actually there to witness it in person?

Yeah, me neither.

But I was.

#small talk

[seasidepierre]

sunkissed face part 8 | charles leclerc

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

summary: You’ve been in love with your best friend Harrison for quite a while now but when Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine go on a trip to Monaco for the F1 Grand Prix, you’re quick to tag along, even though it means spending time with Harrison’s girlfriend.

warnings: I’ve left them alone for quite a bit so they’re full of fluff. 

words count: 6k

a/n: I’m sorry it took so much time, I can’t promise the next update will be quicker, I promise I love them to bits but I suck at sticking to one task. The “meeting your dad” little blurb I had made its way to this part, though I added a few bits and bobs around it, so you don’t have exactly the same thing. It made sense to have it there, I hope you don’t mind Xx

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” Charles whispered against your lips in the middle of a business lounge in the airport in Nice. “Just two little weeks and I’ll all yours.” “I know,” you sighed. “Two weeks is manageable, right?” “It totally is,” he smiled, raising the corners of your lips along with his. He sounded like he was trying to convince both you and himself. “We’ll barely notice them passing by. Two little weeks.”

He took a step back, keeping an arm around your hips, counting on his fingers and muttering the numbers in French underneath his breath.

“Quinze dodos. Fifteen sleeps,” he grinned. “You’re the dorkiest,” you laughed. “You love it.” “I kinda do,” you nodded.

You were far from saying those three little words. You weren’t sure you felt them quite yet, but you did love the dork side of Charles, like his looks didn’t quite match the child that was still trapped inside his soul, sometimes.

“Wait.. Fifteen?” you realised. “I could come on the Monday?” He sheepishly suggested, a blush slowly creeping on his neck. “That would be nice,” you whispered, resting your head on his chest. “My bed seems too big when you’re not there.” “I will come fix that issue, then,” he promised, with a kiss on your forehead. “You should go, you’re gonna miss your flight.” “Do I really have to go?” You whined, pushing your face deeper into his shirt. “I’m afraid you do..”

You didn’t say goodbye, when you left. You raised on your tippy toes, gave him a quick kiss, then waved before you had to say it. Because saying goodbye felt too harsh and too final. “See you later” could have worked, but it still meant leaving and you didn’t like it either. So you just waved and Charles waved back from the other side of the window. You were clad in the hoodie that you were supposed to give him back. Charles said it was yours, now, and you didn’t have to say thanks because your happy grin sufficed. During the weekend, he had worn it for as long as he could and you were pretty sure he did spray way too much perfume on it, just for the sake of sending you back home with something you’d be able to cling onto.

The AC in the plane was on full blast, you thought, as a shiver ran down your spine. The sun was no longer on your face and you couldn’t bask in Charles’ warmth anymore. You shook a little and slipped your hands in the pocket of the jumper, only to find a wrapped up candy from the hotel you just left. You had no idea where it came from, because you didn’t wear that hoodie much during the weekend, since Charles was the one sporting it the most. He must have hidden it for you to find, you realised, and you smiled at the attention.

Fifteen sleeps. Quinze dodos.

☀️

Those fifteen sleeps went by a blur. You went to work on a Monday morning and on the evening, Charles was sitting in the hall of your flat, waiting for you to come home. You opened the door to him without a word, grabbing his hand effortlessly, leading him in what he now knew to be your safe space. You didn’t eat dinner that evening, you just went straight to bed, peeled off each other’s clothes and kissed every parcel of skin you could find. You slept for a blissful ten hours, your head lodged in the crook of his shoulder and his nose resting on top of your skull, your legs intertwined just as tightly as your fingers. Charles knew you had work to do and you couldn’t just pretend that life didn’t exist outside of these walls. So he woke up a bit earlier than you did, cooked breakfast (or most likely, toasted bread and spread butter and jam on each piece of toast) and made tea in a pale yellow mug that had small golden stars on it, because it looked cute and he instantly liked it. He knew that you liked your tea with only one cube of brown sugar and that your favourite tea was the one berry-flavoured. You didn’t have a tray for his very romantic idea of a breakfast in bed, but you did have a large pan that worked wonder in bringing everything to you. That morning, you got woken up by hot tea vapours and small kisses along your jaw, only matched in their softness by the fingers that sneaked between the sheets to find your bare hip.

Charles will later say that you woke up with a small on your face and that it was all he could hope for. You ate in silence, because there was nothing you could say to explain how full your heart felt that morning and Charles seemed to be in the same state of mind. He took you to the shower, washed your hair, lathered your body in foam and couldn’t help himself to a lazy morning shower sex, just because he could and just because he wanted to make you happy. Then he redid the whole foam on the body, because it felt like the right thing to do.

You left for work before you could change your mind, with a kiss and, finally, his first words since he arrived in your building being “Have a nice day, work well and come back fast.” You’d argue you tried your best to have the shortest day at the office you could have. He’d argue that the day felt endlessly long.

On the evening, you ate in bed after Charles jumped on you the second you were home, naked but blissful, in a post orgasm state that rivalled the feeling they must be experiencing in heaven.

“Do you think your dad will like me?” Charles whispered, the words dying between your own lips. “He’s gonna love you,” you reassured him, eyes closed, head on the pillow, fighting to stay awake. “I’m kinda nervous.” “You shouldn’t be,” you breathed out before finally succumbing to sleep.

☀️

Tom called during the week, to ask how you were doing and if you were going to Silverstone. You said you were and that you were happy.

“Lover boy in London?” He laughed. “He is,” You smiled softly at the phone. “What is he doing during the day? Since you’re at work, you know..” “I actually have no idea. He’s hanging out at the flat. He’s resting. I think he had a debrief on the phone with the team, yesterday.” “Do you think I could take him out for lunch?” “I dunno,” you shrugged. “Call him, ask him yourself. But why do you want to have a date with him?” “I dunno,” he repeated. “To chat, I guess.” “Tom, I don’t have an older brother and you don’t need to fill that role,” you groaned. “I mean, I kinda do, actually.” “No you don’t,” you argued. “I’m happy. He’s good to me, Tommy.” “I know. But the last time I saw you in love, you ended up in tears more than I could ever handle it once again.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see nor hear it. Tom had seen you being miserably in love with Harrison for longer than you’d realise. He knew before you admitted it, actually. He had dried your tears too many times to forget about it. He had supported you through everything, without a word. And it was Harrison, it was both your best friend. Now this was a guy he didn’t really know, beyond the occasional hangouts or texts, and while he’d agree that Charles seemed to be a good guy, he wanted to make sure. You couldn’t quite deny him that one.

“You have his Instagram. Ask him yourself.” “I will.”

On the evening you came back home, Tom was sitting in the flat, with a PlayStation that you knew from his living room. He had taken everything apart just to bring it to your place and bags of takeout were sitting on the kitchen counters.

“Hi boys,” You smiled.

They barely mumbled their hellos back to you, engrossed in a game of Fifa that you couldn’t begin to understand. You smiled at your favourite boys together, noticing the similarities and the differences in just a glance. Tom was obviously shorter but he seemed broader, while Charles was slimmer and taller. Both had short dark hair, both held kindness in their eyes and both would follow you to the end of the Earth if it meant having you happy. Your heart warmed at the realisation that you were so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such great souls.

You made dinner, a simple dish of pasta because Charles was still on a diet and Andrea would have his head on a pike if he went for anything that would mess it all up. Tom stayed for dinner, eating with you two, talking about your day and everything in your lives. Charles told him everything he could about F1. Tom told him everything he could about Marvel movies. Both revealed secrets they shouldn’t have but promised to never peep a word about it. They joked at your expense sometimes, though Charles was quick to drape your hand with his after, as if he needed to apologise for the teasing and reassure you that he didn’t truly mean it.

“You got a good one,” Tom said before he left. “It didn’t feel like your place anymore,” he added. “He fits in there perfectly,” he concluded, before dropping a kiss on your cheek and leaving in the dusk of the night, his PlayStation underneath his arm. “Do you think Tom will be at Silverstone?” Charles asked. “I think so, why?” “He ruined me at Fifa, I need a revenge,” he shrugged.

You did get a good one, you grinned.

☀️

Soon enough it was Thursday and Charles had to leave for his work, emptying your flat from his infectious smile and smell, again. But that was okay, because you had managed to score a Friday off and you would be joining him at the track just the day after. Un dodo. Just one sleep.

Andrea was kind enough to fetch you from the garage when you arrived on the Friday morning and Charles was already in a briefing. You met with one of the most important people in Charles’ life and Andrea was nothing but nice. He spoke in an even more broken English than Charles, thick with his Italian accent, but he was funny and spoke highly of Charles, so you automatically liked him. He told you Charles had insisted that you were to be in his driver’s room when he’d finally get out of his meet so you listened to Andrea’s stories for about an hour before Charles came barging in the room like a mad man. You were in his arms before you could say hi and before Andrea could even react.

“If only your reflexes could be quick like that all the time,” Andrea muttered.

That made you laugh and Charles grinned in return, happy to hear that sound again, as if you had been separated for more than 24 hours. You had lunch with Charles and Andrea, you met a good part of Charles’ team, some of them remembering you from the French GP, but this time you were properly introduced. The “girlfriend” label was quite already attached to the nape of your neck, but you could feel it looming above your head and for the first time, you didn’t suffocate with the idea of belonging to anybody else than Harrison. You were thrilled by the prospect, actually.

The Friday went by slowly and you sat in the garage with a pair of headphones, learning as much as you could and basking in the fumes of oil, rubber and car exhaust. The air was thick with warmth and mechanical particles, but you liked being there. Andrea was entertaining and you couldn’t ask for more. On the evening, the qualifications for the Sprint race happened and you spent the whole session crossing your fingers. Charles ended up P4, which wasn’t amazing, but it also meant that he could skip the top 3 interviews and be back to you quicker. He had to find positives everywhere.

The Saturday was another deal and while you wished your dad could be there, you knew he would still have the time of his life on the Sunday. With such short notice, he couldn’t manage to get out of work but you promised you’d have an extraordinary Sunday, which Charles had been starting to plan.

Charles was wearing his red pants when you walked in the paddock. You had taken a taxi from the hotel, because Charles let you sleep and because you had asked for it, the night prior. You knew media and fans would be waiting for Charles to arrive on the track and you didn’t want to attract attention while you still didn’t quite know what you were. So you met with Andrea again, who brought you to the garage, where Charles was settling the last details before the second free practice session. He kissed you before he went to drive and you tapped gently on his helmet, knocking lightly on it.

“What was it for?” He chuckled. “Knocking on wood. Good luck out there, be fast but be careful.”

It must have been a lucky charm because he ended the session P2, with not only half a second that separated him from Max Verstappen, who you knew to be bloody good. For the Sprint Race, you couldn’t do it and it brought Charles back to the P4 spot, just as he had been before the race. Nothing lost, but nothing gained either. Charles was frustrated. Relieved that he wasn’t starting lower on the grid, but frustrated that he couldn’t grab a point, when he was just three seconds behind Valtteri Bottas.

That night, Charles went to the gym and you sat on the floor, watching a movie on your phone while Andrea was shouting in Italian words that you couldn’t even start to comprehend. You watched the coat of sweat on Charles’ forehead turn into sweat stains on his shirt and after an hour, when his breath was so short he sounded like he was about to pass out, you got your man back and helped him in the shower because his arms were so tired from lifting weights, he couldn’t even reach his hair. So you scrubbed every bit of his body that you could and let him turn putty in your hands, groaning when you pressed the palms of your hands in the knots on his shoulder blades, as you tried to relieve the tension.

That night, you didn’t even try anything funny, because Charles needed to rest and because Andrea had said “You sleep tonight, Lover Boy, you hear me?” and you were kinda scared that he would know, one way or another. You liked Andrea, but not to the point of having him know your sexual activity. So you went to bed and slipped beneath the covers after Charles, because you still had a few minutes to watch on your movie and you wanted to know the end. When you finally made it to the hotel bed, Charles was asleep face first in your pillow, the duvet low on his back and you could see the small dimples on each side of his lower spine. You slid behind him, kissed each shoulder blade and slipped your arms around his stomach, spooning him.

“This is the other way around, normally,” he mumbled, sleepily. “Do you want to turn around?”

A small silence followed by a sleepy breath was all you needed to know that you wouldn’t move one bit.

“I like it when you hold me,” he admitted.

You never got to tell him that you liked holding him more than he liked you holding him. He was already asleep when you came to that conclusion.

☀️

You had no idea how you managed to keep the secret for that long, but damn it did feel glorious to watch your dad’s face crumble as you presented him with a paddock pass with his name and face on it. The lanyard was neon green, branded with the F1 logo and as you passed it around his neck, you were almost certain that tears were welling up in his eyes.

  And he wasn’t even close to the biggest surprise yet.

  When Charles invited you to Silverstone, you were ecstatic to say the least. You had already planned to go but couldn’t have found cheap tickets and were on the lookout for resellers who might sell their tickets back. You only needed two, one for you and one for your dad, but you only had managed to almost get scammed in the process. So when Charles offered for you to be his guest, you had one condition and one only: you and your dad were a package deal. Charles was so happy to comply, it filled your heart with warmth and happiness. The fact that he was adamant that you would only come with your dad was absolutely adorable and even more so when he learned that you hadn’t told him anything about the fact that you were seeing each other. Dating? Was he your boyfriend? He had no idea and to be honest, he wasn’t as pressed about it either. He was just glad to spend time with you, whether it was to kiss you and cuddle with you or just to talk. If you wanted him to be your boyfriend, he would gladly be so. If you wanted to introduce him to your dad as just a friend, he would smile and shake his hand either way. This wasn’t time for the big debates on whether or not you were his girlfriend. And you were thankful for that.

“How the hell are we in the paddock?” Your dad kept muttering, walking next to you. “I told you, I got those passes through someone I know,” you grinned. “Do I have to send a gift basket to Tom again?” Your dad rolled his eyes. “I love this kid to death but he has to stop with the gifts.” “It’s not Tom,” you giggled. “But you’re gonna like him either way.” “Oh so it’s a “he”, then,” your dad teased. “Stop digging for intel, you’re gonna know soon anyway,” you laughed.

The more you walked through the paddock, the faster your heart beat. You hadn’t seen Charles in almost a month, ever since you left from the French GP with an usual hole in your chest, shaped like your favorite monégasque. You had texted and called, of course, and you had watched every bit of content you could find to feel closer to him but nothing would ever replace the feeling of his arms around your waist and of his lips on the crook of your neck. You couldn’t wait to get him back.

  The walk in the paddock still felt foreign and if it wasn’t for the couple of familiar faces that you crossed path with, you could have felt terribly out of place. But you kept on walking, waving back at Pierre who you properly met about a month ago and who had followed you on Instagram to chat, in the following days of your meeting.

  Next to you, your dad gasped at your familiarity with the driver, making you stop wondering where your fangirl tendency could have come from. Your dad was a fangirl. There was no way you didn’t inherit those genes from him. There was no way you would be able to contain your giggles either when he’d finally understand that you were headed to the Ferrari garage.

“I’m not sure we’re supposed to be going to this part of the paddock”, your dad mumbled, a bit embarrassed and turning shier by the second. “I’m certain we are,” you teased back, dragging him by the arm until you crossed the row of trucks with the different teams’ logos on them. “Holy shit, this is the actual pitlane,” your dad almost sobbed. “This is incredible. How the heck am I here?” “Wait until you see where we’re gonna watch the race,” you grinned mischievously.

Charles had been the best sport you could find. He knew how much you owed your dad for your love of Formula One and since it was his first time meeting him, he wanted to impress. He had scored you two seats inside the garage, so you could follow the race on the different screens and watch the pit stops happen in real time. You would be basking in the racing vibes of the Scuderia and he had already planned to shower you with enough merch to last a lifetime. Your dad was about to combust and he wanted to make sure of it. Selfishly, he also wanted to make a good first impression. Not that he was trying to buy your dad, but if he was.. The way to your dad’s heart was about to be easier than ever expected…

“Oh Lord, can we walk up to the Ferrari garage? Is that allowed? Or are we gonna get booted out of here?” “Sure, let’s walk to the Ferrari garage,” you laughed. “Maybe.. Maybe not so close. I don’t want to get shooed away. Stop- What the bloody hell are you doing? You can’t just walk into a garage!! Oh my Lord, I raised a complete nutcase,” your dad spilled out so fast it was actually comical. “Dad, welcome to the Ferrari garage,” You grinned, opening an arm to welcome him in, as if you had any say over who’s allowed in and who isn’t.

You didn’t have much time before you could warn him about what happened. One second you were trying not to explode in tears of laughter in front of his bewildered face and the next, a head was nested in the little space between your shoulder and your neck. You raised a gentle hand, resting it in the messy hair that you could feel tickling your skin and smiled at the familiar feeling of Charles hugging you from behind. He dropped a gentle kiss on your skin, squeezing your sides in his grabby hands and immediately straightened back up to face your father, whose mouth was shaped as a perfect O and who couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

“Dad, I want you to meet Charles,” you introduced them both. “Charles, this is my dad, possibly your biggest fan,” You giggled. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir,” Charles started, presenting a hand to your dad. “I heard I was to thank you for raising a Ferrari fan as a daughter. I must say I’m super grateful for that, meeting your daughter has been a highlight of my year.” “Shut. Up,” Your dad spat. “You know Charles Leclerc?!” He whisper-yelled at you. “You know Charles Leclerc and you didn’t tell me anything?!” “Dad, he can hear you,” you laughed. “Yes, I know Charles.” “Was he the one whose hand I could see on that car in Monaco? Were you that hand?!” He finally addressed Charles, who was still waiting to shake his hand. “I’m quite sure I was,” Charles blushed, amused. “Your daughter’s been a delight to have around in Monaco.” “Oh my God, this is the best day of my life, I need to sit down,” your dad started to hyperventilate. “She’s hanging out with a Ferrari driver and she doesn’t bloody tell me. This is the best thing in my life right now,” he ranted. “Dad, Charles is still waiting to shake your hand,” you smiled. “Oh yeah, sorry Son, yeah, ahem, big fan,” your dad blushed (blushed!!), finally greeting Charles. “Phenomenal drive. Such bad luck in Monaco. My my. Love what you’re doing. You’re the best. Hope you win today.” “That’s the goal, I’ll do my best. In the meantime, you’re welcome to watch the race from here. There’s a seat with your name on it. Well, not quite literally, but you know what I mean. I also got you a pair of headphones so you could listen to my radio, in case you’re interested in that. It protects the ears from the loud noises, too.” “Oh man, I think I’m gonna fall in love with you,” your father almost cried, before launching himself to the chair waiting for him like he had fire underneath his ass. “You think I made a good impression?” Charles almost grimaced. “I think he already loves you very much,” you replied, amused. “You made his entire year. Thank you for everything, it means the world to me to have him experience such a thing.” “Then it means the world to me too. Anything for you,” he smiled. “Am I allowed to kiss you or is that tempting my luck too much?” He cringed. “You are absolutely 100% allowed to kiss me,” you smiled, rising to your tippy toes to kiss him yourself. “He’s deep into a screen, watching the replays of your onboard anyway.” “I’m glad he likes me,” Charles sighed, relieved. “What can I say? Must be a family thing,” you joked, kissing him again.

Your dad was already engrossed in the screens in front of him. He looked just as home as you were, clad in a Ferrari shirt that he had chosen that morning without knowing where he’d be. You were wearing one of Charles’ shirt, which you were grateful that your father had not really brought to attention, but you knew your friends who were currently marching down the paddock would. You’d see them later, probably after the race, you thought, but that was without counting on Charles who had managed to outdo himself and score two passes for the grid walk, for you and your dad. The fact that your father’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears as he took Charles in his arms was enough to bring tears to yours, silently thanking Charles, even though he couldn’t see your mouth beneath the face mask you still had to sport. Charles nodded above your dad’s shoulder and you thought, just for a minute, that you couldn’t be happier that your heart stopped being stubborn and chose to move on with Charles. He wasn’t just a great rebound, he was everything you could hope and wish for. The fact that he went ahead and tried to make this even more magical for your dad was all the proof you needed that you were in for the long term. The grid was busy as ever, with celebrities looking either ecstatic or completely bored. You almost stumbled onto Will.I.Am and barely had time to apologise before an engineer pushed you to the side. With a bit of a struggle, you made your way around the cars, taking pictures of your dad in front of each one of them, just because you didn’t know when you’d be able to do that again and because he deserved every picture he could get. You even got one of him and Charles chatting for a second before Charles had to put on his helmet again. To say your father was impressed would be an understatement, but you couldn’t ignore the grin that appeared on his mouth just like on the Cheshire Cat’s when Charles gently grabbed your forearm and dropped his helmeted head to your level, without a word. You frowned for a second, then remembered your little moment the day before. With a giggle, you knocked twice on the helmet, muttering “Knocking on wood, be fast but be careful”, which got him smiling, if you trusted the corners of his eyes through the open visor.

“So you and Charles, huh?” Your dad teased. “Yeah. It’s new, but he’s good to me, Dad.” “I can see that. The fact that he went above and beyond for your old fart of a father was enough for me to see that.” “He truly did all of that, huh?” “He did. This is the best day of my life,” your dad grinned. “Now, let’s enjoy the racing and push behind our guy to win.”

Our guy. That sounded just about right.

☀️

To say that your dad was fuming wouldn’t even bring justice to the state he was in. When Lewis Hamilton passed him, you believed he was going to go to the engineers and push all the buttons to release an extra boost of power himself. But there was nothing he could have done and nothing else to do but watch as Charles lost the lead of a race that you truly believed he could have won and that would have made your father so happy it would have been an actual joke. When Charles crossed the line second, your father slapped his cap on the railing in front of you and you sighed with frustration. You knew you were supposed to be happy for a podium, but he had been so close to win in front of you, in front of your dad, that you couldn’t help but be a bit sad for him.

Andrea was the one who pushed you to the bottom of the podium with your dad in tow. You wouldn’t be close to the parc fermé barriers but you would be there for the podium, at least, and Andrea promised he would get you two as close as possible to both the podium, then the doors, so you could get back to Charles for a couple of minutes before he’d have to go through the whole media circus again. You kind of wished they didn’t have to do that every time, just so you could cosy up with him for more than a handful of seconds before he’d be whisked away somewhere else. In your haste, you checked your phone to see Tom had texted both you and Charles to congratulate him on his podium.

Quick text to say congrats! You should have won today, but silverware is still silverware, right? Sending this to your girl as well, I know you won’t have your phone on you

You smiled at the text, sporting a video of Tom, his brothers and Tuwaine, cheering for Charles from the top of the paddock club, where people looked at them like they were proper nutcases. Tom had said “your girl” and you had enjoyed the sound of that. It was the third time already that you realised that being linked to Charles didn’t feel like such a bad thing. You had been really cautious with Tom, because he was your best friend and you didn’t want to cause any type of prejudice or to create drama when there wasn’t drama to begin with, but with Charles, you truly didn’t care. Let there be drama. Let there be chatter. That wouldn’t change the fact that you liked the guy and that the feeling was mutual.

Standing proud but slightly defeated on the second step of the podium, Charles scanned the crowd, hoping to discern the right Ferrari polo that belonged to your shoulders. You thought he would never be able to, surely, when the crowd was that compact and when more than half of the garage was standing there, but the smile he sent your way felt personal and you took it for granted, arrogance be damned. Your dad was clapping and yelling on your side when the presenter introduced Charles Leclerc, second on the podium, like the frustration of seeing him being somewhat robbed of a victory had been wiped for pure joy. You jumped up and down when he raised the trophy in the air and you watched him pour sparkling wine all over himself and the rest of the podium. There wasn’t much you could have done more, but Andrea seemed to be happy about your joy and before you could properly bask in the vibes of it, he was dragging you and your dad away so you could sneak into the right hallway.

Charles was barely out of the door that you were running to him, hanging yourself at his neck and hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Have a nice evening, bro,” a voice resonated behind you and you didn’t even comprehend that it was Lewis Hamilton, too busy finding your man back and smelling the melted rubber clinging on his skin. “Did you have a nice day?” Charles whispered. “It was amazing,” you whispered back. “Thanks for everything. Dad was over the moon.” “I’m happy then. Let me go check with him what he wants to do for a second?”

You begrudgingly let him go, watching your dad take him in his arms and slapping him on the back, in a proper men’s hug. You smiled at the vision of them two, walking away with arms on the shoulders or just above the waist, Charles having let the trophy in the trusted hands of your father for just a bit.

“I wish you could have won. You deserved it,” your dad muttered. “I’ll win somewhere else,” Charles shrugged. “Yeah, but I may not be there to cheer for that one.” “I’ll make sure to have someone facetime you, then,” he smiled. “Thank you for having been here today and for pushing behind me. It was nice to meet you that way.”

Your dad nodded and before you could catch up with them, they were out of earshot. You could only see their heads bobbing up and down, the smiles on their mouths and the chuckles rumbling in their chests. Your dad kept patting Charles on the chest, until they turned serious enough that Charles nodded solemnly, before he got engulfed in your father’s embrace once again.

“What did my dad tell you, when we left that building after podium?” You asked, when your head was resting on Charles’ chest in the hotel room bed, after Charles had closed the door of the taxi on him and waved him goodbye. “We talked about you,” he confirmed. “Don’t worry. He didn’t tell me any secret.” “Did he try to scare you off?” “No. But that’s between me and him,” he kissed your forehead. “Okay,” you breathed out.

After your father had gone, you stayed in the Ferrari hospitality, enjoying a cup of tea and helping yourself to not one but three scones, reading stuff on your phone and scrolling down Instagram. You texted a bit with Tom, apologising for not having been able to catch up with them all during the day, to which he replied he understood and asked how the meeting between Charles and your dad went. Charles came out of the briefing room at almost 7pm, with a tired air on his face and yawning like a toddler. You smiled at his ruffled hair and grabbed your bag before joining him and Andrea to jump into a car appointed by Ferrari to drive back to the hotel. You hadn’t really thought about grabbing his hand on the walk over and he had happily swung your intertwined hands between the two of you, throwing back the image of two children in love in the school’s playground. You didn’t care if anybody was seeing you. You didn’t care if the chatter was going to go around the paddock, if tea would be “spilled”. All you cared about was the little rough patch between his thumb and his index finger and how it was scratching the skin between your own thumb and index finger.

“Was it okay that I took your hand when we left?” You timidly asked. “It was perfect,” Charles sighed, sleepily.

You closed your eyes, letting your eyelashes rest on Charles’ jaw.

“Goodnight, girlfriend,” Charles murmured. “Goodnight, boyfriend.”

You didn’t need to talk about it. You didn’t need to question it. The decision had been made a few days ago, you realised, and you had both made it without telling the other. You met each other midway, and it was perfect as it was.

Your boyfriend was now happily sleeping at your side, blissful and a heart full of fondness for you, only matched by the one you held in your heart for him.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

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#sunkissed face #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fan fic #f1 fic #f1 fiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula one fanfiction #formula one fan fiction #my writing

[seasidepierre]

Hey, can you please add me to your taglist for sunkissed face? I love that fic so much, can't wait to find out what happens next!!!

You're in that taglist now! Xx

#ask #copper-boom