#equip charles with one too

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC xDP fanfic idea: One hell of a good Bellhop

Danny and Jazz Fenton get a chance of a lifetime after a whirlwind of dimension displacement. It's hard to explain how it happened. One minute, they were visiting Clockwork, having tea with their surrogate grandfather, and the next, they were being attacked by what appeared to be woolly mammoths standing on two legs and carrying weapons.

Clockwork had dispatch to take them head on- timeline pests he called them- but in the confusion Danny and Jazz were taken by suprised, stuffed into sacks and thrown through a whirlpool turned portal that spit them out in a new world.

They tried to call Clockwork for help, but it was as if though the Ghost Zone was blocked by some power. Danny at least still had his ghost powers and Jazz was equipped with the standard Fenton weapons on her person, but that wasn't much help when between the two of them they had sixty dollars and thirty four cents to their names.

Drivers' invalid licenses, phones that weren't connected to any service, and maybe worse of all, no actual identity to speak of.

The Fentons simply didn't exist in this world. Not even their four fathers. The two were at a loss on what to do- for about three months. Then they put their Fenton intelligence to use and hacked into a hotel.

It was a run-down place in the heart of downtown Gotham- the place that the portal shot them to was Metropolis. Still, people paid way too much attention to homeless minors there, so they had to move after dodging a weird underwear guy who kept trying to capture Danny. Apparently, he thought Danny was a "Kryptonian Clone". Fruitloop.

Jazz thought they were the only guests in the Hotel, which is why the owner was so happy to host them for weeks instead of a few days. He was a sweet old man named Charles who was far too old to work but couldn't afford the staff, so he did everything himself.

Jazz felt an awful pity seeing him sit at his counter, staring hopefully at the door for any new guests whenever she returned from her work. It was heartbreaking to see Charles' eyes dim whenever the closing time came, and once again, no one stopped by. At this point, he kept the hotel open in a sad, broken dream.

Where did she work? Danny didn't know, but Jazz made him swear she would handle their expenses. She kept a tight lip on her day, and since Danny had no documentation to go to school with, he found himself helping Charles with maintenance.

He has no license to do anything, but Danny has been installing electricity, water pipes, and anything in between since he was young. FentonWorks always needed something fixed, after all.

He even went out and "borrowed" some paint cans to give the old place a little touch-up. Charles' eyes watered when he saw.

"My wife and I meet at this hotel, you know," Charles tells him one day as Danny patches up some old bricks. He runs to find the old man, gently running his hand along the fireplace. A picture of two young people dancing in the Hotel Lobby—back when it was new and shiny—is hanging right over it. It's easy to see it's Charles and his late wife, Sally.

"Of course, that was back in the forties—a few years after the war and before Gotham was crime-infested. We always wanted to run this place together. We worked two jobs, and when we finally had enough, we bought it from the old owners when they announced they were closing down. We were so happy and ran it together for a year, but then she got sick. Really sick. I was told to give up on the Hotel when I lost her. No one saw a reason when it was obviously failing, but it's the last thing I have of her, you know?"

Danny's lips wobble. He thinks back to hours and hours of tracing the Fenton Works logo on all his new clothes. It looks stupid but, gosh its the last thing he has of his parents since they been sepreated too.

"Yeah" His voice catches "Yeah I know. Did you two ever have children?"

Charles shakes his head. "Salley couldn't have kids, and no matter how many times we applied, we were never approved for adoption. Then we were too old."

"I'm sorry Charles"

"That's alright, my boy." The man's smile is just as heartbreaking and sad as it is soft. "It's something I accepted long ago. "

Danny decided then and there that he would save this hotel if it was the last thing he did. Danny wasn't aware that his Ghost Powers launched onto that oath and sent out a flair, turning Gotham's Fog Lodge into his new haunt.

This meant that overnight, Danny's haunt was carefully bettering itself as a reflection of Danny's happiness. It made it look brand new among all the old and falling apart scenery.

No one knew why or how, but it looked just as Charles remembered it in the glory days.

Danny decided they couldn't compete with large chain hotels, so he made it an experience instead. He did Era events using his experience with the different parts of the Ghost Zone as references.

Soon Gotham was hearing of the Victorian Era Ball—a chance to dress up and dance the old ways with antique clothing of that period.

But Danny didn't stop there.

Disco parties. Nineties garage bands. Murder mysteries nights from the roaring twenties. Even the props were so realistic that people swore they stepped into the time from when arriving for their events.

People started calling, hoping to book in advance, and Charles burst into tears the first night Danny told them they ran out of rooms.

Since it was Danny's haunt, he could complete all the work by himself, having the hotel help him along the way. No one knew why or how, but somehow it was always clean, food was always prepared whenever someone needed it, and bags would be up into their rooms without actually seeing the Bellhop pass getting them at the door.

Not a single staff member in sight, either.

Charles suspected Danny was meta, and he was using his powers to be one hell of a good host. Everyone else thought the place was haunted by staff made entirly of ghosts, and that somehow made it more appealing.

Jazz's new boss thought it a little too good to be accurate, but he was so good at keeping records and organizing that he gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she did mention she had a meta brother she was desperately trying to protect.

If there was one thing Red Hood knew, it was that desperate people turned to crime the most. If he could keep someone like Jazz Fenton away from working with the nutjobs of Gotham, he would have been doing one thing better for the city.

As far as Jazz was aware, she was only an assistant/secretary to an obvious front masquerading as an insurance company, and if she pretended not to notice all the crime, she could feed Danny and help Charles.

Charles, for his part, never said it, but he thinks if he and Sally had been able to have grandchildren, they would have been exactly like Jazz and Danny.

He may have let it be implied at one point, and the misunderstanding spreads that he is their grandfather. None of the three make haste to correct it.

Gotham Fog Lodge starts to gain traction around the same time it captures the eye of one very intrigued billionaire. Bruce Wayne keeps an eye on the business but decided to let Jason make the call since the grandduaghter's owner works for him. '

Surely, he would step in if something malicious was going on.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #One hell of a good bellhop #Part 1 #The Fenton kids find questionable employement #Charles is ther emotional support grandpa #Danny is vibing in his new haunt #The bats are watching #always watching #Pre-Anger Management

[hemmingsleclerc]

I'm really loving the dad max content, your style of writting is amazing

I don't know if it's possible, but could you do something where Olivia is hanging out with Checo's kids (Chequito, Carlota, Emilio) and causing chaos in the paddock

I think it would be cute and fun

Lost in the Paddock┃MV1

Omg I love this idea I just imagined it and laugh!😭💕

summary:where max and checo lose their children in the spanish grand prix

It was a sunny morning in the paddock and the excitement for the Spanish Grand Prix was growing. Max Verstappen's daughter, Olivia, and Checo Pérez's children, Chequito, Carlota and Emilio, were full of energy and looked at everything with curiosity. The sound of the engines echoed throughout the place, but the children were more interested in playing hide and seek.

As their parents prepared for the race, the four quickly came up with a plan to explore the paddock together. Unbeknownst to their parents, the mischievous group ventured out, carefully checking all the places.

The paddock was a maze of trailers, trucks and equipment, a perfect playground for the kids. Olivia, being the oldest, had convinced the others to follow her and explore the secret corners that she had already seen before with her father. Unbeknownst to their parents, the little ones had wandered too far and were soon lost in the maze of racing equipment.

Meanwhile, Max and Checo finished their conversation and turned around to find that their children were nowhere to be found. Panic set in as they frantically shouted their names. Max's heart almost burst out of him as he screamed his little girl's name while Checo was just as bad or worse than him.

"Olivia!''

''Chequito! Carlota! Emilio!" echoed through the paddock, but there was no response. The two parents exchanged worried glances and quickly ran out of their garage in search of their children.

Meanwhile, the children had managed to find their way to the center of the paddock, laughing and laughing as they explored the different areas of the different teams. Chequito, Carlota, Emilio and Olivia were in their own world of fun, oblivious to the chaos they were causing.

They managed to reach a place where photos of their parents were displayed on a wall. ''Look! There's my daddy!'', ''Ours too!'' Suddenly, a great idea had occurred to Olivia, what better idea than to leave a nice message for her dad and for everyone to see it, so carefully she took out of her small backpack the markers that her mother had given her on her birthday and with a huge smile, she began to draw hearts on the wall, among other things, while her other three companions saw her laughing.

Meanwhile, Max was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown himself while Checo was madly asking anyone who crossed his path if there was any sign of his children.

Charles, Daniel, Lewis and Carlos had joined the search for the little ones to cover more space and narrow down the possible places they could be.

''Via!Your favorite uncle is looking for you!'' Daniel shouted

''Carlota! Emilio! Checo jr!, Come here! We have a special surprise for you!'' Charles said

''Kids! Roscoe wants to play with you!'' Lewis' turn

Just as concern was reaching its peak, a track official informed Max and Checo that a group of children matching their descriptions had been seen near the merchandise area. With a sigh of relief, the parents rushed to the scene, their hearts pounding in their chests.

There they found the quartet, happily surrounded by team merchandise, trying on oversized caps and sunglasses while devouring different flavored ice creams. The children looked up with innocent smiles as Max and Checo approached, a mix of relief and exasperation on their faces.

Max and Checo shared a look that conveyed relief and amusement at the same time. When the chaos calmed down, the parents couldn't help but smile at the getaway their children had made. With a laugh of relief, they escorted the boys back to the Red Bull Racing garage, ready to focus on the race ahead.

Max lifted his little girl in his arms while he covered her face with kisses.

''Were where you all this time angel?, and who bought you those ice creams?''

''!Uncle lando and uncle oscar daddy!'' Olivia exclamed

''They also bought us these cool caps dad!'' Chequito said to checo

''Yeah, you're not wearing those mclaren caps on our watch kids, redbull ones are better''

As the paddock returned to its normal bustle, Max and Checo were grateful to have their children back safe and sound.And listen to all the mischievous they got up to in their absence.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #dad!maxverstappen #f1 fluff #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 angst #formula 1 fluff #formula one x you #checo perez #sergio checo pérez #red bull racing

[disneyprincemuke]

"wanna hang out?" * ls2

it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

pairings: logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver

notes: also nothing to do with vr, but ON GOD I'VE GOT SOMETHING PLANNED WITH THEM I- i am also making this a mini series, because i cant physically sit down and write anything too long because this ask was very long and i simply can't not break it down into parts im sorry anon i love you

| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship | it's nice to have a friend |

"mate, just go up and him and say 'hi'. it's not that hard."

"i know, but i'm scared."

"scared? he's a 22-year-old. he won't bite you."

"you don't know that!"

"he's a really nice kid. just go up to him and ask him if he wants to hang out."

"okay, but only if you come with me?"

"you're a fully grown adult! you don't need me with you to play matchmaker to get a new friend."

"please, george? i'm asking you this one favour."

"no can do. look! there he is! go!"

that's the last thing you hear before you are rudely shoved out of alex's driver's room. you press your lips together into a thin line, fists balled by your side as you hear george close the door behind you. you knew hanging out with george in alex's room without alex is stupid.

you had simply noticed the american rookie quietly following the thai driver around, not making many conversations with other drivers during the pre-season test a couple of weeks ago. while you're very well equipped with making friends and incorporating yourself with the rest of your colleagues, logan seemed to be one of the people you found quite difficult to approach.

not because he's unapproachable. simply because he is also very quiet and reserved on his own. once upon a time, when you first joined formula 1 as the only woman on the grid, you were good friends with charles. that was before you had drifted apart amidst all the outright comparisons everyone would make, and eventually, you had fallen into his shadow while he achieved greater things in the sport.

you had learned to find solace in your own company for about a year or so, only speaking to whoever spoke to you. it wasn't until things started falling into place when toto wolff had picked you to race with mercedes, following lewis hamilton's retirement in 2021 after failing to secure himself a championship.

logan, who has just finished his climb up the stairs, flashes you a friendly smile as he fiddles with his keys. "hey," he greets you, before abruptly turning to unlock the door to his driver's room.

"hi," you smile, awkwardly wiping your palms against the material of your shorts. "i haven't had the chance to properly introduce myself to you. i'm (y/n)."

he pushes his door open, craning his neck to acknowledge you. "i know. i've been a big fan since you joined the sport," he glances elsewhere before meeting your eyes again, "i'm logan?"

"right, we already know that," you sigh, shaking your head. you take a step forward, maintaining your distance from the entrance of his driver's room. you don't want to wind up overstepping your welcome. "um, well, welcome to formula 1."

he smiles at you, slightly more genuine this time. you watch as he puts his bag down by the door. "thank you."

"no problem." you bite on the inside of your cheek, turning around to open the door to alex's driver's room. you hear the door creaking behind you, and you vaguely remember that all this awkward conversation wasn't initiated for nothing.

you turn back around and try to hold the door open. your palm meets the door, logan flinching back in surprise as you tilt your head to peek up at him. "have you had your lunch yet?"

he shakes his head. "why?"

"george and i are waiting for alex to finish his meeting with james before we go and grab lunch somewhere in the paddocks," you smile. "wanna hang out?"

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #female driver #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #f1 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke inthaf #logan sargeant platonic #disneyprincemuke 3k celly

[russellsppttemplates]

Let me love on you a little more (Charles Leclerc)

Sometimes, it felt like what you were doing was a drop in the immense ocean, but Charles always made you feel a little better when you had the chance to go home

Note: english is not my first language. I based this on the news and stories I heard from people on the front line! This is in no way romanticising or summing up what happened, much less downplaying it! I hold huge huge respect and gratitude for healthcare workers!

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: Covid-19 pandemic and themes associated with reader being a front line worker as a doctor (mentions hospitals, tests, death)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"You can follow the purple line to the testing site we have here", you told the elderly woman.

"Is it going to hurt too much? My neighbour had to get tested to weeks ago when she visited her family and she said it's uncomfortable", she mused.

"It's a little itchy, I have to admit it, but it shouldn't hurt you, just a little bit uncomfortable, Mrs. Loire", you attempted to soothe her, your usual hand on the patients' arm now a strongly inadvisable way to comfort them.

"Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N", he said, her eyes letting you know that behind her mask there was a big smile on appreciation and gratitude.

Taking temperatures and checking flu like symptoms was not how you thought your medical career would pan out once you chose your speciality, but the new normal was this and you were working your best to do what you got into medicine to do in the first place, improve and save lives.

"How many people have you sent to the testing site?", your colleague Marina asked you when she noticed that for now, there were no walk-ins or ambulances with new patients.

"Just this morning, twenty-five", you sighed, "the closest I got to a potential non-Covid case was the kid that broke his arm, but Ortho swooped him right from me".

"Are you truly so disappointed about not being on an Orthopedics case?", she chuckled, "you hated everytime you had to be on that floor", she argued.

"I'd do anything that isn't watching people die because we don't have enough equipment or because we don't know enough about this disease to stop it", you let your frustrations out.

"We're going to win this, Y/N", Marina squeezed your shoulder, "you're usually the hopeful one on the service, but I can hope for the two of us today", she replied earnestly, "I'm going to have lunch now, do you want to go with me and sit on opposite tables so I can at least look at your face without a mask from a distance?".

"Let's go, I'm starving and I'm going up to the ward this afternoon", you raised your eyebrows, tidying up the station for whoever would cover the afternoon shift there.

As you walked to the area you had lunch in, you were happy to find the sun shinning outside on the green park area where you or the patients' family would take them to get fresh air when they were still admitted and recovering. It wasn't a thing now for obvious reasons, so you and Marina ended up in there keeping a safe distance while enjoying the feeling on the sun on your bare skin.

"Do you sometimes feel like you're losing all sense of time in there?", Marina nudged to the big building, "my mother's birthday was yesterday and I thought it was still a month away - she called me to say she had left a piece of cake for me by my door".

"Yesterday, Charles called me and told me he has going to wash my favourite hoodie of his and then wear it around the house so that by the time I came home it was nice and smelling the way I liked it. Then I reasoned with him that it wasn't this weekend because how could it be? Then I realised he was right", you took a spoonful from the tupperware.

"Are you spending the weekend at home?", Marina asked, smiling at how you seemed to finally be taking care of yourself.

You had been one of the doctors who didn't mind staying for longer in the hospital, reasoning that you didn't have kids and fortunately your family members didn't need assistance so you could cover more shifts and work as much to keep everything running smoothly. It caught up with you as it did with all your colleagues so you set specific times in your calendar where you would go home and, barring any catastrophic situation at the hospital, no one would call you for the days you spent home so you could fully relax with Charles.

"Yes, five days at home and then I'm back", you sighed, "and you? How is your little one doing?", you asked.

"My wife texted me an hour into my shift to say that Milo had a Skype call with his class and their teacher and he said his mama was in the hospital being a hero", she gave you a big smile and looked up to control the tears, "it's hard being away from them, but these little moments help", she added.

"Charles does streams with his friends, and apparently he's always mentioning me and the people on the chat have been very supportive - whenever he calls me he tells me that some fans recognise my voice and my name from the virtual appointments and that they've been here and treated by me, too", you blushed, "He's always hyping me up and I can't wait to be with him".

Stopping by the coffee machine, you both got another expresso shot before parting ways since Marina wasn't on the Covid ward for that shift.

"We've just intubated three more patients", the doctor finished her rounding up to you and the rest of the team that would take over for them, "beds five and six aren't looking good and we've alerted their family members already", he nudged.

Everyone knew what it meant when it came to calling the families, so you nodded, "hopefully they'll get here on time, have them page me downstairs when they arrive, please", you asked one of the interns before you excused yourself to put your personal protective equipment on.

"Is that you, Y/N?", one of the younger kids you had treated said as you got out of the room.

"Yes, it's me! You have a good eye, Arlo!", you smiled before noticing nurse Francesca pulling his wheelchair, "are you going home, sweet boy?", you gasped.

Arlo had been the first child you treated in the ward, only having seen adults up until that moment and it changed a switch in you. A small child struggling so much seemed to shake something inside you, and every time you called his parents with updates, you wished that you'd never have to make the dreaded call.

"I am, my lungs are all good and I'm not warm anymore!", he smiled, "I finally get to go home, my parents are downstairs waiting for me. Did you give Charles my thank you hug for the cap?", he asked.

When you noticed the little boy talking about the last Monaco GP and how he hoped one day he would be able to meet his favourite driver, Charles Leclerc, you couldn't find it in you to keep your relationship undisclosed. So, when you went home the last time, you asked Charles to sign one cap for you and told him to be ready for a FaceTime with the little boy. Arlo was the happiest you had seen him since he had been admitted, lighting up when he saw your boyfriend on the screen and giving him a few smiles despite his tired and sick state.

"I haven't been home yet, but I will give him the biggest hug at the end of the week!", you smiled, "I'm so happy for you, Arlo!", you gushed, making the gesture to blow him as kiss as he waved goodbye.

There were good stories, and even though they in no way erased the sad ones, they helped you carry on with the fight.

Laying on the on-call room after your shift, you took off your mask since no one else was allowed inside it other than you, doing your usual routine and setting your phone in the window sill.

"Hey, amour", Charles said on the phone, "how was your day?", he asked as he watched you towell dry your hair.

"Hey, mon coeur", you offered him a small smile, "I'm so tired I can't guarantee I won't fall asleep in a minute".

"It's okay, I won't mind. Did you get tested?", Charles asked as he seemed to be tucking himself to bed as well.

"Yes, another swab up my nose", you flashed him two thumbs up, "I'll have the results in the morning and hopefully I can get out of here for a few days and spend them with you and not quarantine in a hotel room", you crossed your fingers, "I don't have any symptoms, but still, you never know with this bastard".

"We'll spend it together, amour", he comforted, "I already have a lazy couple of days planned out for us", he smiled as you too tucked yourself on the oncall room bed.

"That sounds amazing", you closed your eyes briefly, "I can't wait to be with you", you yawned.

Charles knew better than to start anything important, just happy to see you were resting, safe and sound, making small talk to lull you to sleep before he ended the call.

After attending the virtual meeting so you could update the next team on how the service was running before you left, the results from test came back negative, which meant you could finally drive home.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside as you heard commotion coming from the living room, "stay away while I put all of this in the cabinet", you warned Charles.

He was quick to go to the bedroom, getting his hoodie and a pair of shorts for you, "as much as I'd love to hold you all day looking like that", your boyfriend nodded to your figure in just underwear, "I think you'll be more cosy in these", he approached you as you finally let him touch you, his arms going around your waist and pulling your bodies closer, "I've missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered.

"I missed you so much, too", you pulled your face away from his chest before kissing his lips in a proper greeting.

Charles guided you to the living room after you got dressed in his clothes, stopping by the kitchen door to check if you had a proper breakfast to which you said yes, so he took you to the sofa, snuggling you two under the blanket as he put one of your favourite shows on the TV.

"I love you, Charles", you would say every now and again, completing the affectionate moments with a kiss or a squeeze.

During the afternoon, you and Charles ended up napping on the sofa, Charles waking up with you still fast asleep on his chest, making him kiss your forehead a couple of times and pull the blanket to cover you up.

"How long was I out for?", you rubbed your eyes two hours later, looking up to see your boyfriend's smile.

"A couple of hours, it looked like a really good nap", he kissed your nose.

"Yes, it was", you squeezed his body, "I'm really craving some carbonara for dinner, do you think we have what the recipe needs?", you questioned.

"We do - I did the food shop earlier this week and I got all of the supplies", he smiled, brushing your hairs away from your eyes and behind your ears, "do you want to get started on it?".

"Yes - I need to pee first, but I'll meet you in the kitchen", you winked, pecking his lips multiple times before getting up.

As he watched you walk to the bathroom, thoughts came flooding in.

This is what he wanted with you. Cosy intimacy that went beyond what happened in the bedroom. The domesticity that went beyond just spending time together and that shines through in the little moments of intertwined routines, special requests and little talks in the middle of the night about random existential questions.

Stepping into the kitchen, Charles gathered the ingredients, pots and pans before you stepped inside too, hugging his waist and nuzzling your face on his back, "you're so comfy, Charlie", you cooed before he turned around so he could face you, cupping your cheeks and rubbing them.

"And you're so gorgeous, mon coeur", he complimented, making you melt inside as you focused on the pads of his thumbs against your skin.

Slicing the guanciale, you removed the rind and cut the rest into small pieces while Charles grated the pecorino cheese and added the egg yolks to the same bowl, the pasta already cooking with the timer on the side.

Scrambling everything into the pot one last time before adding the pasta water a little bit at a time until it was spot on as you liked, making you serve it up in the plates and head back to the sofa.

"Haven't you had enough of the sofa?", you giggled as Charles let you sit before he placed the tray on your lap, doing the same with his own, "I know I haven't had the energy for much else, but maybe tomorrow we can go hike if you'd like", you suggested.

"I want to spend time with you, wherever you are - you're in the sofa, I'm in the sofa, you're in the kitchen, I'm in the kitchen, if you're in the bathroom, I'm in the bathroom", he stated like it was clear as water.

"Maybe not when I'm in the toilet, though, okay?", you squinted as he laughed at your antics.

Charles tidied up after the both of you, sending you to the ensuite bathroom for a bath he'd join you in as soon as he was done.

"You didn't get in?", Charles slumped his shoulders slightly as he saw you sprawled out on the bed.

"I was partially in a food coma, but also - I didn't want to get in alone and the water was a little too hot so I had to let it cool for a bit", you smiled, letting him pull you up and into the bathroom.

Stepping inside the bathroom, Charles grabbed your hips, "let me love on you a little bit more, mon coeur", he said as he pulled you to him, grabbing the hem of the hoodie you were wearing and taking it off of your torso, kissing the skin on your shoulders.

As he stopped his ministrations on your skin, you took the opportunity to take his t-shirt off while you shimmied your shorts and underwear, caressing his muscles before he also took the rest of his clothes off.

"Feels good", Charles dipped his fingers in the tub, getting in himself so he could help you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest.

Your boyfriend brought his hands together and formed a shell shape with them, collecting water in them and wetting your shoulder blades, then letting it cascade down your neckline, boobs and tummy before he let his hands wander around to feel your body, hoping it would show you his love and appreciation for you.

After you got out, Charles rubbed your products on your face, giggling when you made little faces before you put on pyjamas, tucking into bed and cuddling his chest.

"You know I've missed you so much, but our bed feels heavenly right now", you chuckled, kissing his naked chest, "I love you, Charles", you mumbled before sleep took over you.

"I love you, beautiful girl, sleep tight", he whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head before he rubbed your back.

Charles was woken up from your body moving a lot and the clammy feeling of your hand on his chest, looking for your face and noticing the crease on your forehead, "hey, amour", he gently shook you awake, "wake up for me, please, it's okay, you're okay", he urged as you opened your eyes wide as you took in where you were.

"I'm home, I'm home", you mumbled, taking deep breaths like Charles encouraged you to once you sat up, doing them with you a couple of times until you calmed down.

"You are, mon coeur, you are", Charles kissed your forehead when you rested your back against the headboard.

After standing there in silence while Charles played with your fingers on your lap, you were able to speak about it, "I hit five this week", you mumbled, "five people who have died on my watch since this thing started, five family members I've had to call to tell them their loved one didn't make it.

"And it's a small number when you compare it to other countries - so many colleagues are already on their one hundredth, but Monaco is so small", you reasoned, "I haven't had a number this high since I started at the hospital - in my regular service, I never lost five people".

"It's not your fault, amour - a virus is out there and you're working so hard to contain it", Charles pulled you to his chest, rubbing your arm up and down and kissing the side of your head, "the work you're doing with the testing site, making sure to slow the spread and ensuring everyone is as healthy as they can be - you're part of that, Y/N, and even though it doesn't seem like it, you're still winning, you're still beating the universe".

"I couldn't do it without you", you mused and Charles' scoff alerted you, "it's true, Charles! I would never be able to stay at the hospital for so long if you weren't supportive, if you weren't helping my parents and making sure they're doing okay when I can't do it! The way you support me and are there for me - the way your holding me like you always do", you snuggled further into him, "this helps me keep going - you do", you kissed his jaw, seeing his blushed cheeks in the dimly lit bedroom.

"We're a good team then", he accepted the compliment, kissing your temple again, "do you think you can go back to sleep or maybe we could have a chat, watch some TV, have a lazy makeout session", he wiggled his eyebrows.

"That last idea sounds great, I've missed that", you rolled over properly, taking his lips in yours as his hands roamed along your tummy.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader

[witchxxjpg]

lestappen hogwarts au dedicated to my harry potter marathon (1k words)

+ seeker Charles and chaser Max (definitely not dating you know👀)

(i know that the age gaps are incorrect and that 11 years-old Max never raced international but for the sake of this au i change these things))

******

Max sat in his compartment alone.

When he looked outside all he could see was children and their parents running around Platform 3/4 with huge trolleys filled with bags and suitcases. But Max himself had only a mediocre case with shabby textbooks and some clothes to wear during his first school year.

Honestly speaking, he didn't know what he was supposed to do. He didn't want to stand out, even though he was well aware that he wasn't quite like all the others.

When he passed by the other compartments, all the children were chatting and, Max guessed, they were just happy to see or meet each other, while some of the older students were discussing their summer breaks.

Max didn't know anyone here. He didn't even have anyone to say goodbye to.

His mother was too busy in Belgium to fly just for him to London. And his father was still furious at him for the decision to take a year off karting to study in this school for wizards. He had just dropped him off three hour ago near King's Cross Station and left without any goodbye.

Standing on the platform, Max'd thought about what to do.

After a failure of trying to ask an officer about platform 3/4 that was written on his boarding ticket Max'd sat on a nearby bench, hopping that soon he'd see someone who looked like a wizard.

And he was lucky enough that after only an hour of waiting he saw a girl, pulling a trolley of suitcases and a cage with a huge brown owl.

When Max had visited Diagon Alley last week with a big disheveled guy named Hagrid to buy all the necessary equipment for his first year, he'd been told that he's allowed to have a pet like a cat or an owl in Hogwarts. But his father didn't even want to give him money to purchase a wand, so Max knew better than to ask for an animal, even though he really wanted to have a cat.

He got into the train well earlier than all the other students, because almost all sofas were empty. He took one of the farthest compartments and put his case on the bench near him. He was too short to throw it on the top shelf and he didn't know any lifting charms. Then started looking at other wizards.

After an hour of observing the almost empty platform, Max finally started seeing more people.

They were all different: some of them wearing usual clothes, that Max's seen people in, while some others were in ridiculous outfits that he decided was sort of wizard style.

But there were a lot of children, of course. Most of them were in the same usual clothes. However, Max was relieved to see that others wore black robes that Max himself was dressed it.

Later he noticed that some of the robes of other students were with colorful elements, unlike his own that was fully grey.

The departure time of the Hogwarts Express was close, so Max sat there and waited, listening to dulled noises on the platform.

Until the door of his compartment was wide open.

"Hey, sorry, all the others are full," said a young boy, who looked around Max's age. "Do you mind if we sit with you?"

Max didn't mind at all, so he shaked his head and offered the seats.

Behind the boy who asked were two older guys who entered the room.

"Need help with your luggage?" asked one of them, pointing at Max's miserable suitcase, and Max, nodding, pointed out in his head that they're not from England, judging from the accent of these two of them.

While he put Max's case on the top shelf, the other one asked, seeing his stiffness, "First time, right?"

Max smiled awkwardly and nodded.

"Don't worry, we don't bite," cheered up the guy who helped with the luggage, chuckling.

"But Charlie can, though!" said the other, ruffling the hair of the younger boy who entered first and laughing.

Max assumed that they were all brothers, considering how well they knew each other.

The younger boy, Charlie, looked scandalous, "Hey, it only happened once!" pointing at the guy who accused him. "And you totally deserved that!"

"Okay," chuckled again the older guy. "We'll go buy us some food".

"Yeah, let the kids bond together," said the other when they exited the compartment, still giggling.

As soon as they left the younger guy jumped on the seat, opposite Max, with a huge smile and stretched out his right hand, "Hello, I'm Charles".

Shaking Charles' hand, Max mumbled, "I'm Max".

"Oh, by the way, that were Jules and Lorenzo," said Charles, pointing at the direction where the older boys had left. "They can be very annoying, I know. But still cool".

Max hesitated, "Are they your brothers?"

"Lo is," Charles smiled. "Jules is my godfather, but he's more like a brother. Do you have siblings?"

With that question Max realized that he actually missed Vic. He last saw her two months ago, while video chatting with their mother. He hoped he'd be able to go visit them on winter holidays.

"Yes, I have a sister," Max mentioned. "But she lives with my mother, and I live with my father".

He saw that Charles liked talking. "Oh, are you parents wizards?"

"No, they are both -" Max remembered that Hagrid had called them somehow, people who can't do magic. But he didn't remember. "Well, you know, not wizards".

"Muggles?" helped Charles. "That's so cool! Mine are from Monaco. Both wizards, but it's a boring story".

That explained the accent, even though Max'd thought they were French.

Max thought if he could share more about himself, "Oh, I raced in Monaco once", he said before realizing that maybe wizards didn't even know what karting was.

Until he saw how Charles' eyes went comically wide.

"Really?!" he jumped off the seat opposite Max and sat right near him. "You do karting? I also do karting. Not like anything professional but we do it every holiday".

Time passed and Max didn't even realize that. Soon returned Lorenzo and Jules with their hands full of sweets and chocolatebars. That's when Max tried his first chocolate frog and got his first card.

Then when Charles was very emotional to discuss Max's karting championships with his brothers, deep red Max was awkward to hear all this excitement (he'd never admit that he liked it). And he didn't know what to say when the older guys invited him to Monaco for winter holidays to show off the skills.

During boat trip to Hogwars Max listened to Charles speaking about four houses and how he was sure he would be in Gryffindor, because all his family was Gryffindor. Max decided that he also wanted to be brave and be in Gryffindor.

Of course, they didn't get to the same house, none of them didn't even get to the house that they'd wanted, but it wouldn't stop them from becoming best friends and probably something more.

But that's a story for later.

Now Max was just excited for his first year in the magic world.

#lestappen #charles leclerc #max verstappen #cl16 #mv1 #mv33 #my art #f1 art #f1 fandom #formula 1 #digital art

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

How about Vox successfully installs a hidden camera in Charlie and Vaggies room for sexy blackmail. But is pissed all the footage he has is cute fluffy hugs and kiss. Nothing explicit at all.

i think if the V's tried this... they would regret it SO fast and probably be scarred for life in the process XD

Vox: "The lack of risk research in this new venture of ours... astounding."

Valentino: "Aw kitty, what better way to keep track of Lucifer's bimbo daughter Charles than by keeping a little camera tucked away in her bedroom?"

Vox: "Pointed at her bed? ONLY her bed?"

Velvette: "Imagine the BLACKMAIL. Hashtag cancel little miss Morningstar!"

Valentino: "Her and her spicy lady are soooooo pruuuudish and so WHOLESOME about that shit stain hotel of theirs- just think of what they'd do not to be the new stars of hell's porn scene?"

Vox: "I'm thinking, if they DON'T mind, their ratings will skyrocket."

Valentino: "....ah."

Velvette: "Oh come on flat screener, there's no way they'd ever be ok with-"

Vox: "And if they DO mind, Lucifer will take us all off the air so fast the cameras will still be rolling while our own heads start to."

Velvette: "FUCK."

Vox: "Am I the only one here actually forecasting audience reactions??"

Velvette: "I HATE BORN LUCKY GIRLS AND THEIR TOP DOG DEMON DADS!"

Valentino: "We can at least heckle their boring sex life privately, yeah?"

Vox: "If they even HAVE one."

Velvette: "Heads up. They're getting into bed now."

Valentino: “Oooooh and they’ve brought equipment~!”

The V’s: “………………”

Valentino: "..... is that. Paperwork?"

Velvette: "Oh hell no."

Vox: "Birds of a feather. If Alastor can be so chummy with them, then-"

Valentino: "They're doing- they’re- fucking doing PAPERWORK in bed!? Together!?? INSTEAD of each other? That’s IT?????"

Velvette: "This is sick. I'm gonna be sick."

Valentino: "AND THEY'RE ENJOYING IT???"

Velvette: "Hhrrrk-"

Vox: "Cut the feed. Destroy the camera. I can feel the static of their domestic fuzzy feel-good lives overtaking my entire network, program by program, station by station." (clutches tv head) "This would be less unsettling if they were a pair of MUPPETS... Fuck this." (deletes camera)

-five minutes later-

Charlie: “You know what Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “What, sweetie?”

Charlie: "I love how much easier doing the hotel budget is when we have each other to cross check it! Frees up a lot more time!"

Vaggie: "Me too babe. Though I kinda still think I love you more."

Charlie: (smiles softly) "Yeah..?"

Vaggie: (leans in) "...yeah."

Charlie: (grins) "Wanna fuck nasty about it?"

Vaggie: (grins back) "I’ll get the toybox."

-meanwhile-

Valentino: “WAIT! ….I feel a disturbance in the fuck! As if two people are having really kinky gay sex right now, and I’m missing out on exploiting it!”

Velvette: (still nauseous) “I’ll exploit my fist to your face if you don’t shut up.”

Vox: “Velvette.”

Velvette: “Oh you know don’t mean it, darling~ Much.”

Vox: “Fair enough.”

Velvette: “Paperwork, blegh. They were using, actual PHYSICAL bits of paper… I’m gonna have fucking nightmares.”

Valentino: “This IS my nightmare!”

Vox: “Welcome to hell, Val.”

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #vox hazbin hotel #velvette hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #suggestive #incorrect quotes #tbh i think Keekee would find and eat the camera mere seconds after it got turned on #or niffty discovers it while pest controlling and #just #Stares into it #for Hours #it creeps the fuck out of valentino when he goes back through the recoding #he's jumpy for WEEKS afterwards XD

[leclercskiesahead]

first pole of the season

hello everyone! merry christmas! I wanted to give a very big thank you to everyone who left messages on my deco tree, you are all so sweet and made me smile, I appreciate you all. Wishing you all the loveliest holiday season and hopefully another great year. I love seeing everyone's content and tags as they come. I tried to hunt down as many trees as possible to leave messages but I'm sure there are many I missed. This is my xmas present to you all.

The coffee machine was broken that week.

Charles didn’t drink coffee, but he noticed because Carlos had been a lot less enthused about their preseason activities that week. And he'd heard his teammate grumbling about it to Sylvia that morning.

Charles was normally the more proactive one during media shoots anyway, always messing around in front of the cameras, wanting to see his shots, picking out accessories and suggesting his own poses. Carlos preferred to wait for direction, only occasionally joking about a position he was put in. Or laughing nervously when a camera got too close to his face. But he was especially subdued for this team wear shoot. Not even one dry joke or empty threat to pull a stupid face.

Is this really just because of coffee, Charles wondered.

When they were given a short break, and Carlos yawned and announced he was going to take a nap, then promptly laid down on the couch for the shoot, no one batted an eye. The newer staff or external crew laughed it off as a joke, ones who had been around longer and knew Carlos better shook their heads in sympathy.

Then everyone just kind of…scattered. A few people went out to get snacks or drinks (none with espresso, unfortunately). Other retreated to the sides and began scrolling on their phones. And Charles was there. In the room. Nothing to do.

He leaned against the back of the couch, an old, brown fake leather thing. It wasn’t very high, so it was almost like a seat for him. He twiddled with the sleeves of his race suit that was hanging around his waist.

He hummed a little bit, but no one paid him any mind.

So Charles’ mind started to wander.

He looked over the couch, at the man stretched out across the seats, hands folded nicely over his stomach, eyes closed.

He’s not actually sleeping, right?

“Carlos,” Charles whispered. His usually soft ‘r’ in his accent was almost nonexistent when he tried to keep him voice down.

Carlos did not respond.

Has he actually fallen asleep?

A random thought then occurred to Charles, one that made him smile impishly to himself.

Bracing one palm against the couch frame, he carefully swung one leg over, then the other, until his legs were both dangling across Carlos’ laying body. And then he began to slide down.

“Mmh…what are—nngh…” came the sleepy, confused groan from below him. And then Charles felt a hand come to push at his thigh.

Ha, he knew he wasn’t sleeping.

He had woken up too late, though. Charles settled onto Carlos’ body, giggling at the annoyed grunts from underneath him. He wobbled a little when Carlos tried to buck him off, but managed to stuff his hands in the gaps between Carlos’ legs and the seat back, finding some purchase to rebalance himself.

“Cabrón,” Carlos grunted. His voice still sounded a little sleepy, which just made Charles want to laugh again.

“Cahlos,” he sang. “You are taking up all the space!”

His reply was another grunt and shove at his thigh.

Somewhere in the room, someone wondered aloud, “what is happening?”

Charles had not noticed when the crew had returned and started adjusting their equipment again. He leaned back on his arms and shifted, trying to not put all his weight on Carlos. The last thing he needed before preseason testing was a flattened teammate.

Another voice said, “are you alright, you two? We can carry on with the shoot if you have so much energy.”

“No,” Carlos grunted, his Spanish accent coming out in full force. This time, however, he pulled Charles towards him.

Charles fidgeted, not expecting Carlos’ sudden compliance to his antics. But as he shifted to readjust his weight, he found the reason for this sudden change.

He had to clamp down on his tongue to stop the laugh that nearly burst from his throat.

Carlos was hard.

Charles shifted again, earning a small, short groan. Fingers clamped down harder around his thigh.

Charles had to press his lips together to stop himself from giggling out loud. Any other time, he would be flattered and proud at having this effect on Carlos. Right now though, he just wanted to make the most fun out of this.

So he lifted his arms and let his whole weight sink down on Carlos' hard on.

This time, the grunt was more like a growl, so low that Charles felt rather than heard it, rumbling through his teammate's body. It made something inside Charles twist with delight. Even though he was the one in control here, he still couldn't control his body's reaction to his teammate, especially not when Carlos made noises like this. Deep, low, animalistic. It sent a pleasant shiver up his spine, thinking about it.

"Are we ready, or..."

"Cinque minuti, per favore," was Carlos' response. His voice was a little tense, but to an outside ear, nothing out of the ordinary considering his decaffeinated grumbles the whole morning. His eyes were pointedly shut, as if pretending the whole situation with Charles sitting on him did not exist. "You gave us a fifteen minute break."

Everyone just laughed and shook their heads, but heeded to Carlos' request. As they turned back to their own devices, Charles took the opportunity to carefully slide off the very impressive tent of Carlos' race suit. The hands on his thigh and lower back tensed as he moved, but relaxed when Charles kept himself perched on the edge of the couch, leaning back so his body kept a certain monument out of sight.

As funny as it was, certain things were for his viewing pleasure only.

Carlos, to his credit, managed to will himself down quickly, and "stirred" from his "nap" promptly after five minutes.

But Charles was not done with him yet.

"Okay, quick pit stop to change, and then we meet at the gate for the outdoor filming, bene?" Sylvia announced, and Charles took his chance.

“Yes, box box,” he joked.

Then he leaned in to whisper in Carlos’ ear. “Box for hards.”

His reward was a pinch to his ass.

“I will get you for this later,” Carlos muttered, low under his breath.

His tone made it clear that they were spending the night at one of their houses. Likely in the bedroom and nowhere else.

Charles giggled. He was already looking forward to it.

#charlos #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #clairwrites #my stuff

[magicalrocketships]

ok im ready to be converted. what f1 fics do u recommend to start my full brain rot?

EXCELLENT, my plan is working (make people like what I like). Here is a very small and somewhat random selection, mostly Daniel/Max except where stated. Extremely loosely grouped. I've said if they're focused on them racing (grid), even if it's an AU. I have not associated anyone's ao3 handle with their tumblr name, so apologies for that. Do come back and tell me your thoughts and feelings. (!!)

F1 TASTING MENU (Maxiel Flavour)

Amuse Bouche: an opening vid

maxiel x 2022 season - “i would just draw it at like, i wouldn’t say love” by @daniel-enchante

Starters (shorter (ish) fics)

Cool Things to Say to Your Soulmate - words by powerfulowl, art by loveleah (grid, E): Only dumbasses get goosed. If a Soulmate Goose of Enforcement comes to intervene in your love life, it is a clear sign you have fucked up. You’re so bad at navigating human relationships that the universe thinks a violent waterfowl impervious to damage and capable of walking through walls will actually improve the situation. 

i carry your heart with me by capsize (grid, M): “What’s up little guy?” Daniel asks – because like his car, Max’s heart is a boy too – and moves the heart from the desk into his lap. “Is Max not paying attention to you? He can be a bit of a cunt, yeah? No, I know.” Or, five times someone found Max’s heart, and one time they kept it.

Just kissed you hello by charlotte_stant (grid, M): Everything freezes for a long moment—and then Daniel’s heart is back to beating and it’s fine, he can see how funny the situation is. “Maximus, my brother, my comrade,” he says, “what the fuck, mate. I’m not gay, ok?"

Amuse Bouche: another vid

max and daniel at redbull by @love-leah

Main Course (longer fics)

Good To You by TheNorthRemembers (grid, E): Max walks and talks like he has a big dick. He always has, and it’s not like Daniel ever really thought about Max’s dick, but he just- He assumed, maybe. That the equipment would match the attitude. That at the very least what Max is packing, would be completely average. The fact, that apparently it’s not- Well. Daniel doesn’t know what to do with that information, in more ways than one. Or: Max a small dick, Daniel is into it; lots of sex and a bit of angst ensue

my kind's your kind by hardlythewiser (grid, series, E, Max/Kelly/Daniel, resolving with Max/Daniel): Max can talk about it now, out of bed, casual. Kelly helped him practice, talking about it like it was just another activity, like her tennis lessons or nights out with friends, ever since that first time. But she doesn't say anything now.

To the Victor Belong the Spoils by powerfulowl (hunger games AU, E): Daniel didn’t kill anyone in the arena. He’s the one untarnished Hunger Games victor. The beautiful boy who stole the hearts of Panem with a fishing net and a smile. He can kiss babies and sell sun cream and fuck who they tell him to fuck and suck on the fingers that feed him– he’s not gonna bite. But then Max wins the Hunger Games. Max bites.

Amuse Bouche: vid time

"what's going on between you and max verstappen?" by @love-leah

Dessert (where the focus is on sex)

Sweeter than I ever knew by purples_all_the_way_down (grid, girls, E): Daniel has never had an orgasm. Somehow (Charles, it's always Charles), Max gets involved. Things get complicated.

I just want to know you like nobody ever has by 33Max (grid, E): They are in the bathroom, Daniel had insisted that he needed a shower if they were going to do this. He’s still damp, Max hadn’t even waited for him to dry himself off before he was pushing Daniel against the counter and dropping to his knees behind him.

Coffee (something different)

both hands tied on the wheel by kayshea (George Russell/Toto Wolff, grid, E): George feels, stupidly, like a cat that’s been stroked. Like his skin is electric. It’s what everyone has been saying to him all day, but it feels different, somehow, coming from Toto.

if i should come upon your house lonely by withfeathers (Lewis Hamilton/Hanna Prater/Sebastian Vettel, grid, E): The summer after Sebastian's retirement, Lewis visits Switzerland for a week. Nothing about it goes as he expected.

#fic recs #maxiel #f1blr #fics I wish I was reading #(again) #maybe I will just reread them all right now #also if your fic is on this list and i haven't commented yet #it is coming #feral primer

[yelenasdiary]

71. "Put me down!" this with beefy!nat & r and nat picks r up 🤗

The Natty Special

Pairing: Beefy! Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha has training but you want her to skip it, just this once. 

Fluff | .06K | No warnings |

Prompt: "Put me down!" From THIS list.

Translation: dorogoy (darling), 

AC: I really hope this is on the lines of what you were after, I wasn’t too sure how to write ‘beefy’ content haha but I loved the challenge. 

“Do you have to go to training today?” you pouted as your girlfriend got out of the warm bed. “dorogoy, it’s only for a couple of hours” Nat looked down at you while you snuggled the covers. “Yeah, but when you come back, you’ll shower and then have all this energy and won’t want to come back to bed” you did your best puppy eyes. 

“How about when I come back, I’ll have a quick shower and we can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you like” Nat offered with a soft smile, not caving into your innocent look. “Or you could stay home, in bed with me”

“You’re making this very hard, you know that, right?” she smirked. 

“That’s the whole point” 

“It’s only for two hours, I’ll be back before you know it”

“But Natty” you pouted once more, “it’s a thunderstorm and I don’t think that’s very safe, do you?” 

Natasha chuckled and playfully shook her head, “I’ve been to space, and you’re worried about a thunderstorm?” she cocked an eyebrow. She had you there, “okay, not fair” you sat up. “I promise, when I’m back, I’m all yours” she lent down and kissed you deeply, “I’m going to go have a quick shower” she said before walking into the bathroom. 

Kicking off the covers you put your slippers on and walked downstairs and started making Natasha’s favourite breakfast, the Natty special as you called it. The rain was coming down heavier than before, lighting flashed across the dark grey sky followed up loud cracks of thunder just to add the cherry on top. Flipping the strips of bacon in the fry pan you felt Natasha’s strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, “is this step two of trying to get me to stay home?” she chuckled before kissing your cheek. 

“Nope, this is for me actually” you replied placing your free hand on tops of hers naturally your thumb gently rubbing the tops of her hands. “Is that so?” she asked, “you don’t even like egg unless it’s scrambled” she added. “I’m giving it a second chance” you tried to hide the tugging smile on your lips, you were such a bad liar. 

“The is quite a bit of lighting” Natasha mumbled before spinning you around to face her, “Natty!” you chuckled. “Do you really want me to stay home?” she asked. You nodded, “if you stay home, I’ll make you your own Natty special” you smirked. “But you know I can’t skip training, it’s important” Nat played along, already making up her mind she was skipping training today. 

“I’m sure skipping one day isn’t going to hurt” you looked at her full lips, “please” you begged. “Mhm” Nat hummed, “I suppose I could just train at home today” she added. 

“What do you mean? We don’t have any gym equipment for you to use” you frowned slightly. “Who said I need any when I have you?” she smirked before lifting you up into her strong arms and spinning you around in a full 360 circle. You squealed loudly from her sudden action, “Put me down!” you laughed, “your bacon is about to burn” you pointed out before she placed you back on your feet and pulling you for another deep kiss. 

“So, you were cooking for me” she smiled against your lips. 

“Shut up” you chuckled before kissing her once more, “are you staying home or not?” you asked turning back to the stove to take the bacon and eggs off the pan, Natasha’s arms still wrapped around your waist. “Yeah baby, I’ll stay home” she kissed the back of your neck as you fix her a plate. 

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova | @blackwidow-3 | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz 

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #marvel #fanfiction

[russellinatussle]

Survive a Zombie Apocalypse w/ F1 Teams

Would you survive a zombie apocalypse with your favourite team? Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and just my opinion

(The team logos represent you so if it's coloured, you're alive and if it's in black and white...sorry dude)

Aston Martin

Listen, I know you're confident you'd survive. I'd be confident too. Unfortunately you(we) couldn't be more than wrong. This is a one for all, all for none situation. If they can save their own butts they will. If its at the cost of you, well, you shouldn't have chosen them to begin with. Fernando isn't that mean though so if you do manage to fall into a trap, he'd leave you a little note reading, "Enjoy getting eaten by zombies!;D" as a goodbye as he and Lance disappears off into the distance. Great!!!

AlphaTauri

I don't think you'd survive. Daniel and Yuki have watched their fair share of survival movies but when it comes to actually surviving in the middle of an apocalypse? Yea, no. Even if you managed to survive 99% of your journey, bad luck will definitely hit you during that last 1%. On the other hand, you could be extremely, EXTREMELY lucky and survive but this has a 0.82929292% chance. But hey, it's not 0.

Alfa Romeo

Yes, you'd survive. You have two of the chillest people on the grid with you. With a level head, you'd manage to escape with minimal contact with zombies. Valterri is the team leader here and has quite a lot of knowledge on survival in the wild and you and Guanyu are willing team players so you guys would definitely survive. Don't think Guanyu doesn't bring anything to the table though. With his fashion expertise, he'd manage to blend you guys in with the zombies. Instant survival. (Let's just ignore that zombies might smell your scent and just pretend that they're partially blind and have anosmia)

Alpine

You'd survive, given that the two of them are able to work together. I feel like Pierre and Esteban would be afraid to fight the zombies but if you do encounter them, they'd somehow manage to take down most of them. They're squeamish though so if any zombie guts get on them, they're gagging and trying not to throw their own guts up. They don't really have the foundation of basic survival skills tho. Fighting they can do but making a fire, cooking and foraging? Not so good at so be sure to be proficient in these areas or else you might poison yourselves accidentally.

Mercedes

You'd survive but George and Lewis will not. It's mostly because they didn't believe the apocalypse was real until it was too late. During the few days of the apocalypse they were still alive though, Lewis had endless optimism that kept your spirits high and George's dank humour kept you entertained. Wish he actually listened to your advice of wearing a damn shirt in the middle of an apocalypse but eh. But don't worry, after the Brits meet their unfortunate demise, you won't be alone. You'd have Roscoe and the password to Mercedes' TikTok account so it's not all bad. (It is)

Ferrari

No, you will not survive. With no decent strategy and non-reliable equipment, the zombies unfortunately get to you before you can even say Ferrari double podium. You won't die immediately per say. You'd manage to hold your own for the first couple of days but when almost all your equipment starts breaking apart or stops working, the end seems to be in sight. Charles has no self-preservation skills and Carlos is in his own head most of the time. If they were given the right tools, they would definitely survive the apocalypse. But you know how it is rn... You actually do quite well defending yourselves from zombies, probably all that built up Ferrari frustration. However, if you make an alliance with another team, you'd have a higher chance at survival. If the apocalypse were to be in a few years time though, maybe you'd have a higher chance at survival

Red Bull

You and Max would survive. For some reason, you lost Checo in the middle of a zombie chase. He's not dead, you just have no idea where he is now. Max would definitely know his way around surviving an apocalypse because he's literally the Google embodiment, random facts just stewing in his brain.

Williams

Might be unexpected (or expected), but you'd survive. They have decent survival skills, not the best but decent. Logan can hunt (cause yk Logan HUNTER Sargeant?? Cmon now), with his obvious love for fishing and Alex definitely has a route planned to escape the zombies. They're not skilled scouts but they have the most basic of basic knowledge of survival so yea you'd survive. One thing you didn't see coming was the number of animals you'd adopt on the journey.

Haas

Yea you'd survive. They're definitely one of the most resourceful, making weapons out of things they randomly find but you do have some close calls due to them maybe disagreeing on certain issues. They both have basic survival skills, Kevin more than Nico so if you have no choice but to camp out in the woods, you're not doomed. In conclusion, as long as you're willing to be the peacemaker most of the time, you'll be fine.

McLaren

You survive but barely. You have good strategies but your survival skills are 1 to none. Need to make a fire? Where's the lighter? Need food but only fish is available? Yea, no way. Encounter zombies? Defence is the new offence. You try your best to avoid zombies at all costs but if it's inevitable (which it will be), you'll try an alternative way that doesn't involve hand-to-hand combat with the undead. BUT, if you really have no other choice then to fight zombies, Lando and Oscar would be pretty decent in it. Lando's chosen weapon would be a gold club while Oscar's would be a cricket bat. It's kind of therapeutic actually, just smashing zombies left and right.

#f1 #formula 1 #zhou guanyu #valterri bottas #lance stroll #fernando alonso #yuki tsunoda #daniel ricciardo #logan sargeant #alex albon #oscar piastri #lando norris #george russell #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #nico hulkenberg #kevin magnussen #max verstappen #sergio perez #pierre gasly #esteban ocon #in light of Halloween #based entirely on my own opinion

[duckedoesartstuff]

HOWARD CHARLES!!!!!! HE IS HERE!!!!!!!!!!!

IM SO SORRY THIS ART IS ASS 😭😭😭 I FINISHED EVERYTHING AND I REALIZED I MESSED UP THE ANATOMY SO I HAD TO GO BACK AND SNAP HIS SPINE!!!!!!!!!!!! thas why everything is in 144p quality. (also shoutout to anyone who recognizes the lyrics in the art) Ok anyways well its time for character info!!! (um, it's kind of a lot)

Howard Charles (Charlie):

I gave a brief amount of info on him on my last post so its time to elaborate!! He works at the CCC, he's not exactly on the forefront of dealing with chaos, he is more or less just a repair man. Although he is just a repairman, he is experienced with electrical work. (this would come back to help Luccille later) He just chills out in their facilities, repairing stuff and making sure all equipment runs smoothly.

Charlie is actually quite interested in investigating anomalies, mostly cause he is an anomaly himself. His chaos levels are too low for the CCC to exterminate him. The CCC hired him in order to monitor him incase something happens with his chaos levels. His "anomalous property" is literally just having a brick head... Absolutely no one knows how or why he has it, not even himself. His abnormality is so pointless that he just functions like your average stickman, infact it leans more towards being an inconvienence cause he needs to get head accessories specifically tailored to fit his block head... He wants to figure out why he has a block head.

"What am I..... Why do I even exist..... Why am I like this???" -Howard having an existential crisis probably

^^^such a miniscule detail but his hair is fluffy and when he puts his hat on it makes his hair sad and flat (this is visible in the last post i made of him and Luccille)

In terms of personality, he's a chaotic fella and he likes to do dubious things. He's not exactly stupid, he just likes pulling stupid stunts. He is kinda selfish and doesn't really care for other's lives that much. He doesn't mind killing people, which is kinda reflective on how the CCC would do anything to terminate chaos. If its for the better, he'd hurt someone without thinking much about it. (Meeting Luccille makes him start to question this way of thinking)

Oh and some miscellaneous stuff, his primary weapon choice is a pipe wrench. He also uses other tools like crowbars and regular wrenchs, its just that he prefers the pipe wrench out of all of his choices. When he's not busy trying to figure out what he is, Charlie is particulary interested in the Toppat Clan. The toppat clan is a chaotic nightmare for the CCC!!!! (genuine question, how does the CCC respond to anomalous things in the toppat clan..) Anyways, Charlie is quite fascinated by the process of fusion, it seems that fusion is an advantage used by the toppats in battle.

Idk what else to add.... If i remember any missing info I'll edit this post!!!

#art #oc #henry stickmin #the henry stickmin collection #thsc oc #thsc

[laura1633]

Omega Max being very reserved and private. He tries not to draw attention to his designation, but he’s far from ashamed of it. He’d just rather not give the media another reason to slag him off. Max has a crate that gets shipped alongside the technical equipment and everyone knows not to touch it other than to move one of them to his drivers room and the other one to his hotel. Max has all of his nesting supplies sorted very neatly. There’s containers labeled with team gear from his mechanics or GP if he wants their scents nearby, they’re always happy to replace it if he needs it. He has blankets scented by his mum and sister too. He doesn’t like overly elaborate nests, he just wants comfort.

Max smelling Charles being very distressed after a bad race and his instincts kick in and before he knows he’s got Charles tucked into his driver room nest. His whole nest quickly starts to smell like Charles once he’s calm and rumbling happy and Max finds himself gravitating to those items in future races. He sleeps with the blanket Charles used up against his nose for weeks until it loses all of its smell. He doesn’t know how to ask for a replacement from Charles, he doesn’t want to make the alpha uncomfortable

omg anon I absolutely adore this so much. The whole thing is perfect, omega Max getting all his nesting supplies shipped out, his team letting him have items with their scent- so cute!

and I absolutely love Max's instincts kicking in when he realises Charles needs comforting 😍

I imagine Charles feeling the same way afterwards - he really wants to be able to curl back up into Max's nest with him but is too afraid to ask.

#Laura1633 asks #Omega Max

[silverstonesainz-archive]

always you

in a sea of red, he always looks for you.

summary: all the moments of the austria grand prix, boiling down to one thing... pairing: charles leclerc x alpine fem!reader (nicknamed fleur) word count: 5.3k warnings: none note: here is a charles pov. i might have a couple of parts of this series before i wrap it up and try to work on something new. hope u like this one. and thank u @bigdiccricc for reading it through for me <3 ily forever masterlist

taglist: @sluts-inc @sidcrosbyspuck @coffeehurricanes @miniminescapist @amsofftrack @melancholyy-scorpio @strawberrypaul @starxqt @somanyfandomsbruh @allisonxf1 @buenadiabebeta @ohthemisssery

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

Free Practice 1

Charles sits at the top most floor of the Ferrari motorhome, twiddling with the straw of his team water bottle as he scrolls through Instagram. This has become a regular thing, coming onto the paddock far too early for practice, and sitting on social media to pass the time. Four races have passed since Monaco, since he was forced to walk away from his only sense of normalcy. 

He hasn’t stopped beating himself up for that weekend. The words he screamed at you, the anger in his heart towards you made him sick to his stomach. You didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve to carry the weight of his insecurities. And when it finally subsided, it was too late. 

You liked the peonies, at least that’s what you texted him. Merci Charles, I love them. And according to your latest instagram post, they’re sitting pretty on your dining table. He wonders if you sit at home and think of him when you look at the pretty flowers. He wonders if you look at the peonies and picture him sitting across you, because he does. 

“Charles, fifteen minutes!” 

Xavier’s voice cuts him out of his daydream. He strips off his team gear, swapping them out for a race suit. He zips it up to his waist, then grabs his helmet and water bottle before trotting down to the garage. It is busy when he arrives, men in red zooming left and right as they scramble through the garage to prepare for the first practice of the weekend. Charles smiles politely at the people in the garage, the guests Ferrari have invited to sit and watch and all the people who work tirelessly to give him as seamless of a race as possible. He steps out onto the paddock, the hot sun kissing his pale skin. 

The Alpine garage is just as busy as Ferrari’s. The people clad in blue are scrambling to and from the garage, rolling in wheels and clearing the asphalt of equipment. Charles watches as you step out onto the paddock, unaware that he is watching you just two garages down. You always did this, step out of your garage, away from the busy bodies to just soak up the sun. He admired the way your skin glowed, and the relaxed look on your face. He stepped back into his space, afraid of disrupting your peace.

“Five minutes Charles.” 

Qualifying

Free practice comes and goes, with Charles only two-tenths of a second behind Max’s time. He spends about a half hour looking over his data, talking to his engineers and team about strategy. Tire talk wears him down faster than he’d like, and soon he is off retreating into his driver’s room. He peels the red suit off his body, leaving his red under wear on. His balaclava and helmet are left on the little desk, boots and socks long forgotten in the corner. Charles flops onto his makeshift bed, phone in hand as he once again returns to social media.

Your story bubble is the first to appear, the pink and orange ring signifying you had just posted something new. You reposted the alpine graphic, showing you had finished P8 in the free practice. The next story is of you teasing Esteban, throwing something at him before erupting in a fit of giggles. 

“Vous êtes la pire!” You're the worst!

Charles taps the left part of his screen, eyes falling shut as he listens to your laugh and soft voice one more time. He hated not being there with you, hated not being the reason you’re so happy on a day like today, even after the P8 result. It’s as if his world had turned gray, the color leaving with you. 

It isn’t long before he’s back in his car, the pressures of a good qualifying session beating down on him. He needed a good result, needed something good to happen in the sea of his misery. Engineers are looking between him and the data on their screens, signaling him to test every pedal and button on his car before they finally release him. First round of qualifying, Charles was flying. He didn’t even stay out for long, securing the fastest lap before parking in the garage. 

“Xavi, updates on Fluer?” He asks over his radio. 

“Uhh one second… looks like she’s P6 at the moment. Two minutes left in qualifying.”

“Keep me posted.”

Charles sits in his car, fingers crossed in against his chest as he waits through the longest two minutes of his life. His eyes are squeezed shut, refusing to look up at the screens as his anxiety for you get’s the best of him. 

“Fluer is P4, she will go through to Q2.”

He breathes again. Relief floods his blood stream, eyes springing open and his head reclining back against his seat. That’s my girl, he thinks to himself. 

The second round of qualifying isn’t exciting either, Charles once again returning to the garage with a minute left on the clock. He looks up at the TV, watching as your blue car zooms through each turn, the clock zeroing out as you are locked into P9. 

The third round was a lot more nerve wracking than Charles would like to admit. He was fighting tooth and nail against Max for pole position, like a game of hot potato. Purple sectors are flying left and right, switching between the Ferrari and Red Bull. Max holds provisional pole, and he’s more than ready to leave the pits until his team stops him.

“What’s going on?” Charles asks, head turning left and right in confusion as his team stands frozen staring at the screen. His car is midway out of the garage, just about to be released to try for another flying lap in the last five minutes of qualifying. 

“We have a red flag. Red flag. We will not be releasing you at this time.”

“Red flag? Who? What happened?” The radio is silent as his car is pushed back into the shade of the red garage. “Xavi, who?”

“Hamilton, crashed into the barrier. He’s fine, just front suspension damage.”

Charles lets out a breath, quickly thanking Xavier. For just a moment, his world stopped and his mind brought him to the worst place. He was happy that Lewis was okay, even more so that you were. 

Cars were allowed onto the track with three minutes to spare, before George crashed out and interrupted his flying lap. Frustration grows in him as the time ticks down, the pressure increases as his engineer reminds him that Max is still ahead of him by such a small margin of time. Seconds are left on the clock when Charles is finally allowed to add pressure to the throttle, wheels turning and taking him through the track. He holds onto pole position for a mere two seconds before Max crosses the line with a time two-hundredths faster than his. 

The post qualifying interview is a blur, Charles spewing ready made responses about how the sprint tomorrow could change things up and that he’s hopeful for the race even if he isn’t on pole. His mouth moves without much thought, and soon he is waving off the camera as he walks up to join his teammate while waiting for Max. Charles’s eyes scan the small crowd of fans with their phones out, snapping photos of the three and waving at them to gain their attention. He looks for your blue helmet with the pink 8 in the sea of heads, but you are nowhere to be found.

The crowd roars for Max as he poses with the Pirelli tire, grinning from ear to ear. The two Ferrari boys walk over to join him for a photo, and it is when Charles looks at the camera does he finally spot you. Your hair is in a mess of waves, just freshly taken out of a braid. There are marks on your face left by your balaclava and your suit is just slightly undone. Your skin is flushed slightly, lips parted as you pant gently. He smiles at you, and you return the gesture and a thumbs up for good measure. He looks away as the camera shutters over and over. When the three finally disband, walking their separate ways, Charles lost you again. You were nowhere to be spotted in the sea of people who screamed for him. 

He walks past the mics and camera, clambering over wires and whatnot in an effort to find you. And when he does, you are walking into your garage deep in conversation with Lo. He stands at the end of the paddock, watching as you move further and further from him until he can no longer see you.

Free Practice 2

Charles hated coffee. He actually never grew a liking to it, unlike you. When you were about fourteen, you had started drinking black coffee with three sugars, just like your dad made it. You were always sitting at the table with his and your dad, enjoying a cup while the two men talked about what dads talk about. Today, Charles tried coffee. He didn’t get much sleep the night before, and truth be told he felt a little duller than he’d like. Your comments about being unable to start the day without coffee rings in his head, and so he thought he’d try it. 

He remembers the look of satisfaction after your first sip, the tension in your shoulders leaving. He craved that, the feeling of pure content, even if it’s from a drink he didn’t even like.

Do you still like it black with three sugars, or have you grown out of that?

Charles stands by the coffee machine in the motorhome, awaiting a response that might never come.

“Are you lost?”

Charles looks up from his phone to find Carlos looking at him inquisitively. Carlos maneuvers his way around the boy, grabbing himself a paper cup and brewing himself a double shot of espresso. You would never catch Charles at the coffee bar, but here he was, waiting patiently for your text back.

“No… I um…” His phone chimes as he scrambles to think of a response.

Yes. Sometimes with milk too. 

“Is Lord Perceval going to try coffee?” Carlos teases, sipping on his drink.

Are you going to drink coffee?

“Maybe.” Charles responds, grabbing another paper cup and sitting it under the coffee machine. He looks through the different blends, suddenly overwhelmed by the choices and his lack of knowledge. 

“Light roast mate, I think that might be a good start for you.” Carlos pats his shoulder before walking away. His phone chimes again.

Best start with a light roast, and maybe try some milk and more sugar. I don’t think you’d like it how I like it.

He picks a light roast brew, but doesn’t bother to add the milk or more sugar as you suggest. Just the coffee and three packets of sugar. It smells like mornings with you, comforting and simple. Your apartment always smelled of coffee in the morning. He walks up the stairs with the cup in hand, sliding in the seat across Carlos, who is typing furiously on his phone. He smells the cup again, the dark liquid staring back at him. His phone vibrates with a text from you.

Let me know what you think

He places his phone face down, finally tipping the cup to spill the warm drink into his mouth. It is bitter, the coffee much stronger than the sugar. He takes a small sip before setting the cup down. Charles hated coffee.

Carlos laughs at his teammate’s reaction, leaning over to look into Charles’s cup. “Mate, milk and creamer are a thing.” 

Charles hated coffee, but god did he love you. And he wanted to love what you did. 

“It’s fine.” Charles waves him off, snatching up his cup and taking another sip. He tries his best to suppress the grimace that is fighting its way on his face from the bitter taste. “Tastes just fine.” 

Carlos smirks, nodding at his friend before leaning back in his chair and redirecting his attention to his phone. There is a weird aftertaste left in his mouth, strong and bitter, very unpleasant. He flips his phone over, a new text on his screen.

You didn’t add milk or creamer did you?

The morning flies by, and soon he is once again walking the garage and weaving his way around the busy bodies. He steps out onto the paddock, looking to his right and once again finding you, head tilted towards the sun with your eyes closed. Your hair is neatly twisted into a braid, a few strands framing your face nicely. Charles is frozen in place, admiring your beauty and serenity. You don’t notice him, not even as you look around and turn towards your garage. 

Charles climbs into his bright red Ferrari, pulling out right behind your baby Blue. The pace is slow all the way to the end of the pit lane, and with a quick raise of your hand to wave him off, you speed away in your car. The Monegasque isn’t too far behind, keeping up with you and overtaking you after turn four. For the hour, it’s as if it is only you two on the track. You do your best to keep up with his Ferrari, but the differences in make up make it hard for you. But you try like hell, doing your fair share of overtakes in the brief twenty something laps before your team calls you in and ends your time in free practice to preserve your tires. 

The last of his laps, Charles spends in boredom. He zooms through the track, securing the fastest time with his teammate five-hundredths of a second behind. His heart rate is on the come down from the exhilarating battles with you, cooling like his tires as he is backed into his side of the garage. He climbs out of his car with ease, pulling off his helmet and balaclava and putting it aside. Charles barely focuses on the numbers, eyes following along on the replay of the last session, the way your baby Blue flies seamlessly through the track. He can nearly see your smile under your helmet in the moments you overtook him. He can hear your little yes’ and gotchas as you swerve around him. 

It makes him smile. 

Sprint Race

There are nerves running through him as he paces back and forth in his room. The caffeine was probably getting to him. He was able to swallow down a couple more sips of it, before chugging his entire water bottle. Charles never really liked coffee for this reason, the jitters, the shaky hands, and the inability to sit still. He looks up at the clock, the second hand ticking by ridiculously slow. 

He cusses softly, zipping his race suit all the way up and making his back down to the paddock. Charles climbs into his car without a word, without much argument, just ready to implement plan A until his team names another letter. He is pushed onto the grid, spot number two just behind the Red Bull. Ten minutes before the sprint is supposed to start, so he figures he can climb out of the car and take a look around. He pulls his helmet off, balaclava on as he looks around the grid. He spots his best friend in the tenth spot, your car just ahead of him. What he does note is the frustration laced in your body language. The irritation is obvious in the way you throw your hands up. Your voice also carries, even with your helmet over your face the sound of purring engines. He can’t make what you’re saying, just that your voice is pitched angrily. You kick your covered tires, ripping off your helmet and balaclava and stomping away from your car. 

Charles follows your figure as you climb through the gate, hopping onto the other side. He overhears Will Buxton as he approaches the front of the grid, talks of how your car is refusing to start and will have to retire before the race even starts. There is an urge to run after you, to call out. But his team calls for him, and he is forced to sit in and get ready for the sprint. 

Just as it played out in qualifying, Charles is staring down Max’s rear wing til the end. He is frustrated, no dimples or bright eyes. Just furrowed brows and the feeling of blind optimism as he answers the questions laid out for him. His mind wanders over to you, wondering how you’re doing after dropping to the bottom of the grid without much of a fighting chance. 

He knows you’d be upset, sitting in the garage as you figure out where it all went wrong. Hell if you could, you would rewire your car yourself. He always loved that about you, loved your willingness to learn and do more. Loved your stubbornness and insistent need to do things yourself. 

Charles twiddles the sprint medal in his fingers as he strolls past his garage. He can’t help his curiosity, his feet taking him all the way to the bright blue garage. He passes Esteban’s side, the quieter garage contrasting your busy one. Just as he had guessed, you were still there, clad in your black race suit with your hair still twisted in a braid. Your legs are crossed as you sit on the floor, watching helplessly as your mechanics try to fix your baby Blue. 

“Don’t think you should be here.” You mumble, not bothering to look up at him. “It’s kind of hard to miss the red in all this blue.” 

“Missed you out there Fluer.” He says, leaning against the side of the garage door. 

“Yeah… good job today Charles.” There is defeat in your voice, “P2. You’ll get him tomorrow.” 

He watches as you ride to your feet, turning your back on him as you walk deeper into the motor home. You never look up at him once, never smile even as you congratulate him. You looked deflated, tired, downright sad as you walked away from your car. Charles walked back to the red side, head hanging low in defeat even if he hadn’t really lost. 

On days like today, on days with a retirement or just bad result, normally you both would find refuge in the other. Aside from Monaco, it was easy. It was easy to melt in the other and to feel safe while doing so. He can picture all the moments you spent on his chest, tracing patterns against him quietly as he played with your hair. There were never words needed, just the company of the other was enough.

Monaco was different, it was like something inside him changed. He was never that angry, especially with you. And truth be told, he wasn’t even angry with you that day either. He was angry with himself, angry at the streets he grew up on, betraying him again. All that anger was meant to be directed at the world, but instead you caught the brunt of it. You absorbed every blow, every insult, every bitter feeling Charles felt that day. You were right, for a second he loathed you. He hated what you were able to do, hated that he has never done what you did with ease. But the brief moments of abhor never overpowered his love for you. It never surpassed the level of immense joy he felt when he rewatched the race for you, or the admiration as he watched the videos of you on the top step. No amount of hatred and anger could surpass all the pride he felt for you, even if for a moment it seemed like it did.

As he walks away from the Alpine garage, his mind races through a million words he could say to make you smile. He thinks of all the jokes, the cheesy pick up lines you hate so much, just about anything that would make you smile. He thinks of saying all the things he should’ve said in Monaco. But even as his mind moves full speed ahead, his feet don't take him back. His body does the logical thing and just keeps moving further and further away from you. 

Race Day

He’s awake, alone in bed. The sheets are soft, but they only smell of him and it bothers him. The only reason he climbs out of bed is to brew a pot of coffee, and then he is right back in the covers. The coffee smells cheap, but it’s still that same deep smell that gives him comfort. It’s memories of you wrapped around him, the skin of your cheek pressed against his chest and the sound of your voice thick with sleep. 

He lays in bed until he is nose blind to the brewed drink. It’s then, when the pot is littered in condensation and there is no longer smoke coming from the opening, does he decide to start his day. Charles goes through the motions, staying on his side of the sink. Even with two months since your break up, Charles moves like you’re still around. He leaves space on the sink for your make-up, unfolding the second towel for you when you finish showering, and even sleeping on the left side of the bed so you can roll in with ease. Hell, he still leaves the spare key at the front desk for you to pick up when you need it. 

But you haven’t needed it in two months. 

The paddock is buzzing with people. Fans express their excitement, the utmost faith they have in their Il Predestinato to finish in front. It’s almost heartwarming, the faith they have in his craft even when he is doubting himself so much. He nearly misses you walking in, with your blue polo tucked neatly into your white tennis skirt and hair flowing effortlessly down your back. He watches as you wave at fans, smiling in pictures, and signing various merchandise before walking away towards your motorhome. Charles says goodbye to the tifosi, before jogging to catch up with you. 

“Will I be seeing you in the points today, Bien-aimée?” 

You whip your head around, hair effortlessly tossing over your shoulder. There is a playful smile on your lips, small but still there for him. 

“You can count on it, Predestinato.” 

And with a wink, you jog away to join Lo and Ella all the way to the Alpine motorhome. Charles feels like he’s in middle school, heart beating fast at the playful interaction. It felt like a little courtyard crush, even if he knows deep down that it has and will always be more. 

Charles is scribbling in notebooks and analyzing data all morning, before finally getting in the back seat of the car for the drivers parade. He waves at fans, making playful banter with his teammate all the while. And every now and again, he looks behind him to see you laughing and smiling up at something Esteban has said. There is a jealousy that sparks up in the pit of his gut, and he is forced to turn away. 

You always had a great relationship with your team, which included Esteban. Hell, the two of you have joined him and his girlfriend on several double dates. The sight behind him isn’t new, and yet it still burns. It still hurts to see you so happy without him, so happy while he’s drowning in misery. 

Charles tries not to think much of it as he stands by his car on the front row. He drinks his water, observes the mechanics in different uniforms running to and from cars. He watches different drivers begin to get in the proper headspace. Pierre has his AirPods popped in and Daniel is in a very low squat. He looks past his fellow competitors, all the way to the bottom of the grid as you sit on your blanketed tire in pure concentration. He knows the songs playing through your headphones, probably some heavy bass and hip hop beat blaring to get your heart pumping. He can see the way you shake your hands before resting them on your lap. You’re in your element, in your own piece of paradise before the race. 

With the anthem out of the way, and the drivers returning to their cars, Charles is quick to hop into his own. There is a soft knock knock on the top of his helmet, and when he looks up he sees the back of your race suit. He smiles to himself, hands gripping the wheel. It was your good luck ritual, ones kept for days you especially believed in him and he doubted himself. It was your signal of reassurance in the chaos of the grid, a quick gesture before you are off in your own car.

Charles sits in anticipation, watching as the lights go on one by one, slow and teasing. Finally, the lights are out and away he goes. The race flies by, all 71 laps. He finally overtakes Max in lap 12, holding onto the lead until he has to pit. The race is exhilarating for the first half, and the win is as sure as his in the final laps even with the throttle not fully working. The win was what he needed, an answer to the never ending string of bad luck. 

He did it, he fucking did it. 

“P1 Charles, P1. Good job!”

He cheers into the radio, spewing thanks in Italian and French with sighs of relief.

“And Fluer?” He asks, slowing down in his cool down lap. 

“P10. She is P10.”

Charles smiles, speeding up by your car as it comes to view and waving over at you. You wave back, cutting your car some slack as you allow Charles to drive in front of you. You follow behind him all the way to the pit lane, parking your car just a couple of meters away from his number one spot. He parks, jumping out of his car and running into the sea of red who welcome him with such a loving embrace. It isn’t long until he is in front of the camera, dimples and bright eyes as he talks about his race. He is beaming, happiness coursing through his veins as the world around him cheers him on.

The top step felt right, he felt like he belonged. He was in his rightful place, he was finally winning. This was the momentum he longed for since Monaco. He stands with his arms behind his back, eyes shut as he soaks up the sun. His national anthem plays, and he mouths the words quietly. His head sways side to side ever so slightly. 

Charles looks down at the crowd, the sea of red staring up at him in adoration. And then he spots you, the blue detail of your suit bright in the swarm of red. He can see you, looking up at him with such pride and… love. His smile dims, just wide enough for you to know that he sees you, that he’s smiling at you. You wave up at him, another thumbs up for good measure. The world around the two of you seem to dim. It was just you in the crowd, staring up at him with such pride and joy. He felt undeserving to be looked upon in such a way, especially by you. 

E ren nun ne scangerà,  Tantu ch'u suriyu lüjerà;

And nothing will change As long as the sun shines;

He shakes off his guilt, daydream interrupted by the Italian anthem blaring through the speakers. He looks away, eyes back up on the sea of people who stare up at him.

It isn’t long until Charles is showered in champagne, the cheers and fanfare loudly ringing in his ear. Champagne gets everywhere, soaking him underneath his race suit. He takes the remainder of his bottle, walking to the edge of the stage and spraying his team. You were no longer in the mess of people, your blue suit nowhere to be found as he douses the crowd in the leftover champagne. 

Post Race: Media Pen and On…

Max congratulates him on the way out, a pat on his back as he compliments the drive he had today. All his competitors do the same, greeting him and complimenting him on a job well done. He walks into the media pen, black cap traded for his numbered red one. The journalists are swooning over him, complimenting him left and right and he can’t help but grin. 

“Fluer had some nice things to say about you, she was just in here. She was cheering for you too, have you heard the radio?”

Charles shakes his head, “Haven’t had the time no… what did she say?”

“She said, ‘I knew he could do it. I was fighting my battles from the bottom of the grid, but it’s good to know that he was doing the same in front. I’m proud of him, I always am.’” 

Charles’ cheeks turn pink. “Ahhh… well I’m always thankful for her support. Feels good and… yeah. No, it feels great. I’ll have to thank her later.”

He doesn’t last long with the Media, answering all the same questions in different ways before he is finally allowed to return to his room. He slides his door open, quick to flop on the bed in the corner of the room as he soaks in the day. The win has settled, the victory is done and over with. He’s empty again, incomplete and lost. 

You would normally be waiting here, sitting on his bed already out of your race suit. You would have a snack in hand, maybe even some juice to keep you company as you wait for Charles to finish his business. He would normally be greeted with a kiss, sweet French words and promises of a treat waiting for him at home. He finally sits in his lonesome, and realizes that this is his first win without you by his side. His first win without you is so bittersweet. 

There is a soft knock on the door before it slides open. Andreas smiles, slipping into the tiny room with a bag in his hands. “From Fluer.” 

Charles never moved so fast in his life, scrambling over to him to grab the bag. Andreas chuckles and backs out of the room, allowing Charles to enjoy his gifts on his own. There is a bottle of water, a bag of candies, and a little note at the bottom of the bag. He pulls out each one, setting them on the desk. His eyes water, the idea that you’re still thinking about him softening the ache in his heart.

Predestinato; 

Drink lots of water, because I know you forget in the midst of your celebration. And some coffee candies, so you don’t have to deal with the bitter brew I like. 

Congratulations, another win for the books. I'm so proud of you.

Your Fluer.

There is a doodled flower by your name, messy with uneven petals and the pen marks smeared from the rush. He chuckles, tears spilling onto his cheeks. Your Fluer, his Fleur. 

He pops a candy into his mouth, the sweet artificial flavor of coffee coating his tongue. You were with him, always with him, even if you weren’t. You were there, in the form of a messily drawn flower and coffee candy. 

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

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[formula1fanfiction]

Charles Leclerc / Max Verstappen

Title: Wherever you stray, I follow

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Max Verstappen

Characters: Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen, George Russell, Pierre Gasly

Prompt: Charles is a Beta and he kind of hates himself for it.

A/N: It's set in the same moment as George/Toto but you don't have to read that part, basically George's heat sends Max into a rut and Charles has to deal with the consequence's as a beta.

The room is filled with the overwhelming sweet smell of an omega in heat as soon as George walks into the cool down room. Charles had been cuddled up on the sofa with Max but as soon as George had come in, the camera crew following they spring apart.

George sits as far from them as he possibly can, Max purrs approvingly at the smell besides him. Charles hates that as Beta his smell can't have the same affect on his mate, like an omega's does.

wait, George is a Beta. There are no omegas on the grid.

George coughs as he sits down, he notices both Max and Charles staring at him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are glazed over. "What?" George coughs again, Max has a horrible smirk on his face, while Charles frowns at his mate but he accidently directs it at George.

"Did you fuck someone?" Max laughs, while George chokes on the water he had been drinking. "You smell like a bitch in heat." Max clarifies, still laughing. Poor George looks really flustered.  

"Yes, it's affecting me as Beta." Charles informs George, the smell is so overwhelming strong it's making Charles' cock twitch in his race suit. "You're a Beta too, right?" Charles keeps his pace passive.

"Yeah." George chokes. You're not fooling anyone George Russell, you are an omega and an omega in heat on top of that. George looks terrified all of a sudden, Charles gives him a small smile hoping it's enough for George to understand that he will keep his secret safe.

The podium celebrations is where things get a little tricky, for Charles anyway. Max as an alpha is been driven crazy by George's smell. Charles just won't allow Max anywhere near George, he wants to keep George safe of course he does.

but on top of all that, Max is his mate for god sake.

Charles hates himself for being a beta, he doesn't necessarily wish he was an omega or an alpha, he's happy he doesn't have to deal with heats or ruts but Max does have to deal with ruts and it's never nice when it happens because Charles' useless beta body isn't equipped to handle them.

He manages to keep Max away from George for the rest of the podium celebrations, despite Max's many attempts to follow the smell of an omega in heat, his mate is clearly been driven insane which spells only one thing. His rut is coming and Charles has had no time to prepare himself.

First of all, he needs to make sure George gets back safely, he doesn't see any of the Mercedes guys around, then he seems the frizzy hair of his best friend in the close distance.

"Pierre, wait." The Frenchman abruptly stops and turns around with a warm smile on his face. "Charles, what can I do for you?" His eyes suddenly go wide. "What's wrong with Max." Charles clings tightly to his mates arm. "He's in pre rut, because George is in heat."

"George is an omega?" Charles wants to slap himself for telling Pierre. "Just make sure, George gets back to his garage safely" Pierre walks into the direction of George. "And don't tell anyone or i'll tell the whole grid tripod is code for micro penis." Pierre smirks as he walks away.

Now to deal with Max and his incoming rut.

By some miracle, they manage to get through press duties without further incident. Max blindly follows Charles to his black Ferrari, when suddenly he finds himself pressed against his car.

"This why stupid little omega whore's shouldn't be allowed on the grid." Charles has no time to react as Max sticks his tongue into Charles mouth and squeezes his arse. "It's not fair that I go into a rut because of him." Max starts kissing him again. "And it's not fair on you."

It doesn't happen all that often , Max's ruts are usually well controlled and Charles knows about them well in advance so he can prepare himself properly. Max is a ruthless alpha and it takes at least four or five rounds before Max comes back to himself. It's hard on Charles, the sex rough, hard and Max can barely control himself long enough to allow Charles to apply more lube to himself.

It's not the first time Max has had a sudden rut, the last time was horrible and it left Charles sore for days. Why couldn't he have just been a fucking omega? But there is nothing Charles wouldn't do Max and it's his job as his mate.

Charles is suddenly brought out of his thoughts by, Max grinding against him and trying to bite his neck. "You are not going to fuck me against my car, in public Max." Charles uses his calming Beta voice. "Now, keep your hands to yourself, until we get back."

Max growls at him but nods and climbs into the passenger seat of Charles' car. Despite his ruthlessness on the race track, Charles is a very good street car driver and obeys all the legal rules, in fact he's never even been given a speeding ticket before.

He's ashamed to say it but he's probably broken every driving law possible as he speeds back to their hotel room. Max keeps keep quiet during the ride, other than the occasional growl as his hand strongly grips Charles' thigh possessively.  

Charles has to practically drag Max back to his hotel room, he losing all his senses rapidly, usually Max's ruts happen when he's safely contained in a room and not a danger to the general public and he knows it's irrational but Charles can't help but be a little angry at George for causing this.

He's only just managed to swipe they key card as Max jumps him and shoves him into the room. Max attacks him with kisses and Charles can finally melt into it and enjoy it now they are in a hotel room with a soft bed and lube.

Charles allows his instincts to take over and allows himself to submit to Max who wastes no time in pressing his nose against his scent gland and bites down, Charles purrs approvingly. "Charles, baby, I need you." Max whines into his ear, digging his hand into the waist band of Charles' red jeans. 

"You can have me." Charles hates that this has turned into a rut, it's hot and it's fun right now, but it will soon be painful and exhausting two hours later when Max is still ready to go. Charles hates that he hates himself for wanting to be omega, when he knows how hard it is to be a omega in motor spots and life in general but he wants to be able to help his mate out properly.

Max breaks away from Charles to rip the shirt over his head, then soon attacks Charles, undoing the buckle on his belt and opening the fly on Charles' jeans. "You're mine Charles, all mine, I don't need some omega whore."

It's like Max can read his mind sometimes, it's hard to keep himself under control especially when Max is pushing his hand into Charles' jeans and gives his a cock a few hard strokes. Charles gently pushes him away while he removes the rest of his clothes, Max does the same viscously tearing his off.  

"Tell me Charles, who is your Alpha?" Charles squeaks as Max growls at him, sucking little marks on the pale skin of his neck. "You're my alpha, Max."  

Max has fully gone into rut now, his scent is so strong it's making Charles dizzy, his knees are going week. His body is producing a little bit of slick from the smell alone, but it's not anywhere near enough but it's something at least.

"You're so beautiful Charles, i'm lucky to have such a wonderful mate." Max wraps his arms around Charles protectively and it honest to god makes Charles' heart soar, even in his rut Max spoils him with kind words and compliments, it makes him feel special.

Charles' body almost bounces off the bed as Max literally throws him onto into and wastes no time in covering Charles' body with his own, kissing over his abs and stomach. Luckily, not touching his cock because if Max wants him to last another five rounds he can't cum this early, he just can't.  

Max jumps off the bed and drags Charles by the hips until his ass his hanging over the edge of the bed. "Lube, Max I need lube." Charles panics pressing the bottle into Max's hand.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard Charles." Max looks at the lube with a look of disgust. "Yes you can but with lube." Max whines, but he does coat his fingers with a lube and presses two fingers into his hole, his body accepts them easily thanks to the little bit of slick he's prepared. Max is honestly ruthless with his fingers, slamming them in and out of animalistcally. It's uncomfortable but it's something. Max has three fingers inside of him before judging him to be ready.

Max presses the head of his cock against Charles' now wet hole and slowly slides through the slickness, filling Charles with his massive cock, only leaving the swell of his half hard formed knot outside. Charles sinks into the softness of the mattress with relief.

"Fuck, Charles, you feel so wet for me." Max squeezes his hips so hard there's sure to be bruises left behind. Charles whines, just wanting Max to move, he pushes up his hips a little letting Max know he's ready to start.

Max does start to move, it's fast, it's brutal and it's enough to send Charles out of his mind with want, the sound of skin slapping against skin echo's around the bedroom and all to soon Max has found the sweet spot inside of him, Charles groans in pure pleasure, Max purrs approvingly as he continues to slam into that little bundle of nerves.  

"I wanna fill you with my pups Charles, you'd look so good fat and pregnant with my babies." Charles rolls his eyes, he hates rut talks. "You would have my babies, wouldn't you Charles?"

"Don't be stupid Max, I can't get pregnant. i'm not an omega." It's not completely unheard of a Beta getting pregnant but it's extremely rare especially in males, it's something like a 2% chance.  

"But you would, have my babies. Yes?" Charles imagines the thought for a moment, a little boy and a little girl running around the garden looking like a mixture of both of them. Charles smiles at the thought, but it's not something that could ever happen.

Charles is suddenly brought out of his thoughts by an extra hard thrust, his knot suddenly swelling bigger and bigger with every thrust as Max thrusts into him with all his might.

"Come for me Charles, I need you to come for me." Charles bares his neck and Max bites down hard on the mating mark as he comes, spilling his load over his own stomach. Max is still pounding into him his knot getting bigger, wait Charles can't take his knot, his body isn't built for it, it will hurt too much.

"Max, love. You need to pull out." Charles pushes his mate by the chest, trying to pry him off. He's had Max's knot before and it hurt like hell, he couldn't really walk for the next couple of days.

"Max, pull out." Charles, digs his fingers into the bed sheets and prepares himself for the wave of pain. "Max." Charles cries out, tears springing to his eyes with the pain of it as Max's knot swells to its limit, then pops filling up Charles with that hot seed.

"Shit, Charles. I'm so so so sorry." Max climbs up onto the bed and takes Charles into his arms. Charles is really confused, Max is always sorry and cuddly after his rut is over but it's one been one round, there should be at least another three.

"I'm sorry Charles." Max repeats over and over again holding Charles tighter and tighter with every word.

"It's fine Max, I know you couldn't help it." Charles brushes the tears away with the back of his hand. "Then why are you crying?" Max keeps kissing him. "Because it was George's scent that sent you into a rut and i'm just a rubbish beta who can barely keep up."

"No, Charles no." Max keeps kissing him. "I think George's scent set me off because I'm due to come off my suppressants anyway, I bet it was the same for George." Charles shrugs. "I guess but I'm still not good enough for you."

"No Charles. You are everything to me, I don't care if you're a Beta, omega or even an Alpha, you are mine and only mine." That makes Charles feel a lot better, he nuzzles against Max's cheek approvingly.

"Max? Why did it only take one round this time?" Charles rests his head of Max's shoulder while the Dutchman softly plays with his hair. "Well, I was looking into it and every rut an alpha spends with his mate, the closer they get, so the rut doesn't take as long."  

"So you're saying, we got closer since the last rut?" Charles can't help but keep the smile off his face. "So I am good enough for you?"

"If I have to tell you every day for the rest of my life Charles, I will but yes you are enough for me and more."  

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #george russell #formula 1 fanfiction #fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #mxm #fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #mxm smut #lestappen

[elisysd]

Power - Little Mix

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

You shoud know, I'm the one who's in control I'll let you come take the wheel, long a you don't forget Who got the power?

After much hesitation, Lyanna finally agreed to appear in the interview that Charles would give on Ferrari's social networks. What neither she nor Charles had anticipated, however, was that Ferrai would make a public announcement of her participation and invite the tifosis to ask whatever questions they wished, resulting in an alarming number of questions about their relationship rather than Charles' ambitions and the 2024 season.

It was in the middle of the week, at 8am one morning, that the Scuderia media team and Silvia arrived at Charles' house with cameras and microphones. They spent an hour setting up the equipment and arranging the room to create an aesthetically pleasing setting for the shoot. Charles and Lyanna then had their make-up and hair done and the microphones set up.

Lyanna didn't feel comfortable, despite the fact that it was far from being her first interview and that the cameras on her didn't really bother her. On the other hand, it was the first time she had allowed her private life to be voluntarily exposed. She hoped she wasn't opening the door to too many excesses, even if Charles had made it clear to Silvia that this kind of interview was the first and last.

She took a seat on a chair next to the camera, which was pointed at the pilot, who, seeing the stress on the young woman's face, desperately tried to relax her by making faces in her direction.

The interview began. Charles recounted what it was like for him at the time of the crash, what he remembered and what happened afterwards. His convalescence, the importance of mental strength and how the desire to get back into an F1 car and wear the Ferrari colours again had motivated him, along with the importance of the support of those close to him, without whom it would not have been possible.

Then it was Lyanna's turn. She in turn took her place in the same spot where Charles had been sitting a few moments earlier as he stood facing her, taking care to remain within her line of sight to reassure her. Lyanna couldn't help fidgeting with her fingers.

“So Lyanna, can you tell us what you recall from the accident?” asked her Silvia

“Honestly? Not that much…It was like I was dissociating from everything. My body was there but my mind was elsewhere. The only thought I had was him, in that car, and not knowing if he was alive or…” she shook her hear as if it could keep away the bad thoughts. “I kept replaying the last words I said to him. Then, Fred gave me his headset so I could be connected to Charles’ radio, so could talk to him and when I heard nothing but white noise it felt like the ground was collapsing under me. I know that it was just two minutes between the actual crash and learning that he was alive, but to me it felt so much longer.”

“Is it something you had prepared yourself for? Having to witness a car crash.”

“I mean, I know that when Charles gets in the car, there is a possibility of him having an accident. But I’m not expecting the worst. There is a whole team behind that is supposed to make sure that he comes back in one piece. So I’m not scared. I try to not show that it’s stressing me out because I know that Charles doesn’t need to see me worried before a race.”

They continued talking for a few more minutes. Lyanna mentioned how she had been by Charles' side during his convalescence and how annoying he had been. This was supposed to be the light moment of the video. Charles then took his place alongside his girlfriend for the Q&A.

“So this question is for Charles: how important is your girlfriend in your day to day life since the crash.”

“She had been the most supportive person. Always there to help me when I couldn’t even get out of the bed. Always encouraging me. I haven’t been the easiest person to be around, and I’m sorry about that, Lya. I haven’t been appreciative enough.”

“Lyanna: What was the most difficult part about having Charles sick at home?”

“Watching him watch the races and endure all his complaints about how he should be there and how he would have driven every single corner. Positive side of it, I’m beginning to understand F1 better. Negative side, he was really annoying.”

“Could we expect to see you more on the tracks for 2024 season?”

“Well, it’s going to depend on a lot of things but even if I can’t be physically there, I will always cheer him on from whenever I am.”

The interview came to an end and Lyanna was relieved to see the team soon leaving the flat. She wasn't particularly looking forward to seeing the final result, she just hoped that the editing would reflect what she had said and that the video wouldn't be dramatised.

That evening, over pizza for Lyanna and a salad for Charles, who was on a diet, Charles asked her if she had any plans for the following day. He wanted to spend some time with his girlfriend alone, feeling that it had been far too long since that had happened, between their argument and his trip to Maranello. He was therefore surprised when she told him that she had planned a day's shopping to buy presents for her family and also for Charles's, not wanting to appear ungrateful by coming empty-handed.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked her.

“No, it’s fine. I’m already meeting someone there and it would spoil the fun if you already knew your Christmas present, don’t you think?” she replied, which piqued the Monegasque's curiosity even more.

“Who are you going to meet? You don’t know anyone in Monaco?”

“Well first of all, thank you for making me look like a recluse who won't come out of her cave. And second, I kind of befriended Charlotte.”

 Charles dropped his fork in surprise and it landed on his trousers, leaving a stain of vinaigrette in the process.

“When you say Charlotte, you talk about Charlotte my ex-girlfriend who was at my birthday or you happen to know another Charlotte who lives in Monaco?”

“We are thinking of the same Charlotte.” Confirmed Lyanna.

“But… Okay, I have a few questions. When? How? Why? Don’ get me wrong, I have no problem with it and I’m happy that you are making friends but… she’s my ex-girlfirend?”

“I mean… it happened. She really helped me understanding some things and put my thoughts in order. She was really straightforward about what I should expect as your girlfriend and she was kind enough to answer my questions. And then we just bonded over things. Don’t worry we are not talking about you. She has not revealed your worst embarrassments yet.”

“Well thanks, I guess? So you are meeting with her tomorrow? Where?”

“At the shopping centre and we will probably go eat somewhere so don’t wait for me. I’ll be out all day.”

Charles nodded. When Lyanna disappeared into the bathroom after dinner to take a shower, he quickly took out his phone and isolated himself on the balcony before dialling his best friend's number.

“Joris? It’s me. Tell me, do you have some plans tomorrow? I was thinking of going Christmas shopping.”

Far from imagining for a moment her boyfriend's intentions, Lyanna left the next morning excited at the idea of shopping for Christmas presents. She didn't really know what to get Charles's brothers and mother, so she was reassured to have Charlotte by her side to advise her. She met up with the young woman in a café near the shopping centre and the two of them wandered through the aisles looking for the perfect present. For Arthur, Lyanna had bought a comic book on the history of motor sport. For Lorenzo, she had opted for a stationery set, thinking it would be useful for him as he was partly in charge of Arthur's career, and as for Pascale, Lyanna had opted for a body and face care set so that she could take care of herself.

“Did you find a gift for Charles?” asked Charlotte as they were heading to a restaurant.

“Yeah, I have it already. I just hope he’ll like it.”

Caught up in their discussion, the two young women paid no attention to the all too recognisable Pista of a certain number 16 following them at a distance.

“I keep on telling you that we should have taken my car… they are going to see us.” Mumbled Joris, his face between his hands starting to question his life choices and how they led him to sit in his best friend’s car, spying on his current and ex-girlfriend.

“And I’m telling you that we are super discreet. And we don’t spy. We are just trying to see what they are doing. I just want to understand.”

“That’s the definition of spying, mate.”

“Shut up.”

Charles ended up parking awkwardly in a spot where he wasn't sure he was really allowed to, but at least it was out of sight. He took two black hoodies and sunglasses out of his trunk. He handed one to Joris before putting on the second.

“You really went overboard with the I’m definitely not spying my girlfriend.” Commented Joris.

Charles glared at him to shut him up and the two friends headed for the restaurant where Lyanna and Charlotte were eating. Fortunately for Charles, they were sitting near the window and he could see them quite clearly. They were laughing together and looked very friendly and Charles couldn't help wondering what was so funny.

It was the crowd around the restaurant that caught Charlotte and Lyanna's eye as they enjoyed a coffee with macaroons. Lyanna naively thought it was for her at first, but when no one entered the restaurant or seemed to be paying any attention, she discarded the idea. It was Charlotte who realised what all the fuss was about when she spotted Charles's best friend a little way back in the crowd, seemingly enjoying the warm greetings his friend was receiving.

“Did you tell Charles that we would meet today?”

“Yes, he knows. Why?”

“Because I think I see Joris, and unless he has become a superstar in the span of one year, I do believe that Charles is here.”

Lyanna sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. The two young women got up, took their time paying the bill and left the restaurant to approach the crowd. And indeed, the closer they got, the more Lyanna could hear Charles's name being called out. The two young women stood back for a few moments, just long enough for all the fans to get a photo or an autograph and then to leave.

When Charles saw Lyanna and Charlotte, both with their arms crossed and the same disapproving look on their faces, he knew he was in trouble.

“Hey… Girls… Fancy seeing you here.” He tried to play it nonchalant.

“Charles are you following me?” asked Lyanna bluntly.

“Following you? Babe, you are hurting my feelings. It’s just a pure coincidence. Joris called me this morning asking me to help him find a gift for his mom and being the great friend that I am, I accepted. Nothing more. Right, Joris?”

Charles stared at his friend, who cleared his throat and approached the group.

“Yeah… my sister… I mean my mom is picky and Charles has great taste so…”

“You don’t need to cover for him, Joris.” Said Charlotte.

“I promise you, Lya it’s not what it looks like…”

“So you are not spying on us?”

“Yeah okay, fine we were spying. But can you blame me? I just wanted to see by myself what a friendship between you and Charlotte would look like.”

“Were you scared that I would turn her against you by saying what an idiot you are sometimes?” intervened Charlotte. “Because if so, don’t worry I think she doesn’t need me to see that. You do wonders by yourself.”

“Haha very funny.”

“Since when are you following us?”

“Lyanna, believe me you don’t want to know.” Said Joris.

“We might have been behind you in that cosmetic shop. By the way my mom is going to love the gift.”

“I don’t know if I should be scared because your behaviour is creepy or admirative because how the hell were you so subtle.”

“Go with the second option, it will make me sleep better tonight.”

Lyanna rolled her eyes and turned to Charlotte.

“I’m so sorry about him.”

“Don’t worry. I see you around. Happy holidays to you both.”

Joris not wanting to spend another minute in Charles's company, took the opportunity to go his own way, leaving Lyanna and the pilot alone at last. The young woman handed her bags to Charles, who grabbed them sheepishly.

“You are so going to sleep on the sofa tonight.”

============

author's note: A little chapter to celebrate Silverstone week end aka one of my favourite race on the calendar! Next chapter will be Christmas at the Leclerc, I can't wait and then off we go for the 2024 season. We are slowly approaching the end of the story and I'm not going to lie, it makes me very sad. As usual, don't forget to comment / reblog / like the story since it's the best way to let me know that you are actually enjoying it. And see you for another chapter very, very soon!

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[f1amboyant]

I was tagged what feels like a million years ago by @f1-stuff (thank youuu ❤️ Sorry it took me so long to get to it 🤍)

Share a snippet of a current WIP!

I only have 2 WIPs at the moment (even though I have a looooot of ideas for other stuff), so here is a little snippet of a/b/o charlos 🫣

They don’t usually work out together. No, scratch that. They never work out together. It’s not that they actively avoid each other for one reason or another. It’s not because they’re Alpha and Omega. It’s just how it is. Andrea and Rupert train them with very different methods, in very different locations, at very different times, so Charles and Carlos never work out together.

Until they do.

It was bound to happen really. After all, they run in the same circle, work with the same team, go to the same location every race weekend. It was absolutely, undoubtedly, bound to happen, yet Charles never thought about it. If he had to put a thought to it, he would have said that yeah, of course he could work out next to Carlos. Why not? Because his teammate is an Omega? Come on. He’s not some mindless animal, he can control himself.

He can’t.

He absolutely undoubtedly can’t. One step inside the gym and he suddenly realizes his mistake. The sweet sweet scent of Omega, of Carlos, fills his lungs and all Charles’ blood runs south. He stumbles inside the room, dizzy with want and omegaomegaomega. His eyes jump from equipment to equipment until he finds him. Fuck.

Carlos is leaning down on one of the benches, lifting weights with strong and beautiful arms. Soft enticing groans escapes his mouth with every set. His feet lay flat on the floor and his thighs spread wide.

Charles cannot think straight.

“Okay, one more. Come on.”

The voice tears him out of his daze just enough to see Rupert, standing right beside Carlos, monitoring his driver like any trainer would do. Charles gets the sudden urge to growl and shove him away from Carlos, from the Omega.

Mine.

Fuck. That’s not good.

Flushed from head to toe, with a hard on he can barely conceal and a brain slowly leaking out of his ears, Charles leaves flees. He barricades himself into his room, jerks off in shame, then takes a shower and goes out for a run. He’ll train in the gym later (he’ll probably have to ask Andrea to find another gym entirely for him if he wants to get anything done).

This time, he actively avoids Carlos. His inner Alpha is screaming at him to get closer to the Omega of their dream, but no. Charles is a very good and very respectful Alpha. He knows to get away from the room and give him some privacy when Carlos’ hormones go haywire. Is he going into heat? Is that why his scent was so strong? Maybe. But Charles will not pry.

(He sometimes fantasizes about being with Carlos during one of his heats. In those shameful moments of pining, he gets so hard he can barely think straight and he pops his knot into his unfulfilling fist almost every single time, imagining someone else with him (Carlos)).

Is he in love with Carlos? Maybe.

Is he lusting over his teammate? Definitely. From quite some time now. Nothing can really happen between them though. They are teammates. That would be such a mess. And mostly, Carlos never said anything to indicate he would be interested too (Charles hasn’t said anything either) (Charles doesn’t count their constant touching) (Carlos is tactile with everyone, it doesn’t mean anything if he touches Charles a lot) (A LOT) (even if Charles wants it to mean something) (even if Charles’ skin blaze with every single contact and his heart hammers in his chest painfully wanting)

ANYWAY.

This is behind the point. The point is Charles is a good and respectful Alpha and he retreats to his room, trying not to bother Carlos.

Except, there’s a knock at the door and when Charles opens it, Carlos is right there, smelling like heatheatheatheat. Charles’ mouth waters so fast he might get dehydrated and die.

“You’re in heat,” Charles blurts out.

That explains the strong scent in the gym earlier. That explains the intoxicating sweetness permeating the air on Charles’ door step and slowly filling his lungs. Charles never actually smelled Carlos’ heat before but there’s no mistaking that particular scent.

Carlos raises an eyebrow.

“I know, cabrón. I just…” he trails off, looking for his words, voice ruff and a little unsure.

He scratches at his neck, like he often does while thinking and Charles’ eyes narrow down on the thick column of the exposed neck. He wants to BITE.

“Can I come in?”

“But you’re in heat. How…? How do you…? Why…?”

Charles doesn’t know how to end his sentence. His brain shut off and doesn’t seem to work properly anymore. When Carlos threads his fingers through his hair and sends a new wave of sweet sweet Omega in heat scent, Charles nearly collapses. Fuck.

“I know I usually spend my heats with Lando,” Carlos is saying, voice still a little raspy. “But he is not here. So can I stay with you?”

“I’m not Lando,” Charles answers immediately.

I’m not an Omega, he really wants to say. But he is dumb. Stupid. So so stupid.

“I know, cabrón.” Carlos laughs and that sweet sweet sound goes straight to Charles’ crotch. Fuuuuuck. “But I trust you. I need someone I can feel safe with. Please?”

#charlos #charlos fic snippet #a/b/o #alpha charles leclerc #omega carlos sainz jr #feel free to ask me about this or any other work #my ask box is open