*Disclaimer: Everything written is a fictional perception, nothing to be taken personally.*
COMING UP: A DANIEL RICCIARDO FAN FICTION!
A SMALL DESCRIPTION
You've been racing alongside Daniel for a year now, moving to McLaren had been a careful decision, after driving at Scuderia Ferrari for only a year. Beginning your career with two years at Toro Rosso, after which Red Bull graciously accepted you in, and you had the opportunity to drive alongside the 2021 Dutch champion, blossoming a brotherly friendship with Verstappen. Moving to Ferrari was supposed to be your new start, but Ferrari's ideals pushed you to a new team, after just a year in the reds. Starting a flirty and wholesome friendship with Charles was your only reward.
You've been extremely close to the lot.
McLaren had been your last option, all because of your close friend Daniel Ricciardo, who you were very much in love with.
Who could resist falling in love with him you thought. After all, it was just a simple mistake, falling for your best friend.
Or as you would say, the biggest possible mistake in unrequited love.
-> Sebastian Vettel insists you dress as a Bond girl to attend his birthday party.
-> Authors Note: I really enjoyed writing this fic! I may have become a bit repetitive and for that I’m sorry, but I wanted to enjoy writing it rather than getting it perfect :) not proof read because we live dangerously.
-> Word Count: 4.9k
CW/TW: drinking! Both tipsy, p in v sex, unprotected (WRAP IT PLS), dirty talk-ish? Please note, I have a glitch in Tumblr where paragraphs can often repeat. If you see any, please inform me so I can fix them!
It certainly surprised you when you received the perfectly folded invitation on your work desk. A sleek black card with silver embossed lettering that spelled your name. The shock was only amplified with the contents.
‘You are invited to Sebastian Vettel’s birthday party on the 3rd of July. The theme is movie character dress.’ As you read on you found yourself breaking into a grin. Unsurprisingly Sebastian would have a party somewhere as flash as the Aston Martin F1 factory to ensure everyone at work was enclosed.
Knowing the four-time world champion as well as you did, you knew he would dress as something witty. You’d never met someone as smart and amusing as Sebastian. Every day he would make you laugh with a remark or one of his absurd dad jokes that you would still be giggling at hours later.
Seb made the job worth it.
“I do hope you will be attending,” a quiet voice behind you caught your attention. You turned quickly, finding Sebastian standing in the doorway to your office, a smile on his face. It was always bizarre to see him in anything other than his racing suit. Today he donned faded blue jeans and a clearly worn sweater.
You laughed weakly, glancing down at the invitation in your hand. “I see you are going all out for this birthday Sebastian.” He nods, looking pointedly at you to answer his question.
“Oh- Yes, I would love to! I will have to check my calendar but…” You trail off, smiling weakly. How could you turn down the opportunity? He’d thought to include you. “Who will you be dressing as?”
Sebastian’s smile seemed to grow impossibly wider, eyes crinkling in the corners after years of radiating pure joy. You loved how he always seemed to be infinitely happy, raising the mood of the garage even in particularly poor race days.
“I thought I would represent the company and go for James Bond,” he says, stepping into the room and slowly making his way over to you. You laugh at that, shaking your head.
“You cannot possibly be Bond, you’re German. Bond is English,” you point out playfully. Clearly he was expecting that answer given the way he raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. He reaches over to one of the desks alongside you and pulls up a chair to sit down.
“Can I not add a little German flair?” He asks, causing you to giggle. This close you could see the color of his eyes clearly. Crystal blue, not unlike that of Daniel Craig, ironically. You had always thought he had the most beautiful eyes, the kind that sparkled when he laughed and never failed to share his happiness with others.
Even his laugh, a sound you had heard every single day with him in your presence, didn’t get boring. You would hear it floating around the office or over the sounds of machinery on race days that eased the tension and allowed for more fun than stress.
“Would that make you double-o five?” You asked him, to which he smirked, nodding his head in amusement.
“I have a driver’s license, do I not? That can replace my license to kill.” He muses, watching you intently as you burst into laughter.
“It most definitely can, Sebastian.” You giggle still, putting the invitation back into the envelope and stashing it safely in your desk drawer. It was still surreal to you that he had even considered including you in the festivities. You knew each other well from working together on race days as driver and engineer but it wasn’t as though other drivers were so meticulous with maintaining their relationships with their colleagues.
Religious in his attempts to sustain a healthy work environment, Sebastian would include everyone, regardless of work title when it came to race celebrations. He would hand out beers on particularly successful weekends, and on holidays would entertain people with gifts. One time, before pre-season testing, he had stashed a handful of Love-Hearts sweets in everyone’s drawers at the factory to ensure they had someone to call their Valentine.
The beautiful gesture had stuck with you for a while. Especially since everyone at the office pointed out that Sebastian had gifted you significantly more candy than the others. You just rationalized that he had a few more left than he anticipated so he had just dumped them in your desk drawer.
“What will you be dressed as?” His soft, accented voice cuts through your memories and brings you back to reality. You clear your throat, considering his festoon for a moment. Stupidly, you had neglected to even acknowledge the fact that you would have to dress up too.
“Mhmm, I hadn’t really had the time to give it much thought before you dashed in, claiming Bond for yourself,” you teased, tapping a pen against the desk. He chuckled at that, holding his hands up in mock defeat.
“Why not dress as a Bond girl?” He raises his eyebrows playfully, causing you to stop in your tracks and stare at him in shock. “It’s simple, a nice dress, a gun holster around your thigh.”
Perhaps you shouldn’t have given credence to the concept, but you couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled in your stomach. A thigh-high slit in the skirt of your dress to reveal the leather of the holster…
“People will think I’m your date,” you mumble, glancing down at the surface of the desk and not meeting his gaze. He gives a hum as he acknowledges your concern.
“Then why not be my date?” His suggestion causes your head to whip around and gawk at him. You certainly hadn’t thought that was where this conversation was going. “I could pick you up in the DB5? Really sell the Bond power couple theme?” He muses.
You stumble over your words, the syllables catching in your throat. He was willing to do that for you? He wanted you to be his date? And by date did he mean… date date? You could see his lips pulling up into a knowing smirk as he watched the gears of your mind turning.
“S-Sure,” You falter, the acceptance sounding more like a question from your lips. It’s so easy to read Sebastian, the devilry that was working through his mind. He flirted with everyone- press, staff. But this felt more personal, a step further than you’d never seen him go before.
“Good,” he states, standing from the chair with a sigh, “I will pick you up at six o’clock.” With this information, he turns on his heel and moves to leave the office. You stare after him, dumbfounded by the situation and the swirling, panicked questions in your mind. Was he truly flirting with you? What color suit was he wearing?
How did he know where you lived?!
The knuckles rapping against your front door cause you to practically jump out of your skin. You knew he was coming. You had been pacing the hallway for the past half an hour, the echo of your heels bouncing off the walls and the inside of your skull.
You had spent hours stressing, burdened by the concept of wearing something beautiful that would match the theme, and hopefully go with Sebastian’s suit. You had opted to wear a simple black silk gown. The neck was a low cut, the v-line stopping just in the middle of your sternum. Floor-length, the skirt had a slit in it just as Sebastian had advised. How were you to let him down?
Regardless of how silly it seemed, you had thrown yourself into the concept. Amazon had a leather gun holster that wrapped around your thigh like a garter, and you had spent hours cross-legged on the living room floor, painting a water pistol gunmetal grey.
Altogether, you felt powerful. Red lipstick coated your lips, breaking up the monotony of your outfit to complete the look. Had you been going with anyone else, you would have felt confident. But this was Sebastian Vettel. He made your stomach do flips.
Double-checking yourself in the mirror to ensure everything was in order, you rush to open the door. The sight itself had you weak in the knees, and your heart stopping dead in your chest.
Sebastian, initially looking down the street as he waited for you to open the door, was wearing a black suit, well fitted to his form, with a black bow tie. Upon the sound of you answering the door, he turned his head back to you, those gorgeous blue eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He drags his eyes over your face, then down your body, taking in the view before him.
His lips spread into one of his heart-stopping grins. “Look at you, you look beautiful,” he marvels, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek in greeting, “You smell good too.” The simple compliment has your face burning up. He was such a flatterer.
“You look good too, Sebastian,” you attempt to endorse him, but it dies on your lips with the shake of his head, and the insistence that he didn’t look as good as you. As you lock the door behind you, you feel him take up your hand in his own, leading you towards the stunning silver DB5 he promised would be there.
“I can’t believe they let you borrow it!” You gasp, causing him to grin. Those wonderful smile lines in the corners of his eyes melted your heart.
“I insisted. Now get in,” he muses, opening the door for you and holding it open. Ever the gentleman. You give a quiet thank you, gathering your skirts and getting into the car with ease. You pretend not to notice, but you see the way his eyes drag over your exposed thigh, acknowledging the leather holster tied to your leg.
The door shut beside you, and Sebastian slipped into the driver's seat on the other side of the car. He was quiet for a moment, reaching over to your half and opening the glove compartment. His touch is so close to your thighs, you barely notice the way your breathing has stalled.
“Here it is,” he mumbles, setting a small, circular speaker device into the holder between you.
“Sebastian, what are you doing?” You ask, glancing over at him as he looks through his phone. The speaker plays a little tune in response, evidently connecting to his phone. With a few more taps of the screen, the music flows from the sound-set.
You find yourself grinning as the first few violin notes of Feeling Good by Michael Bublé began to ring out. You should have known Sebastian would have planned all of this to this extent. He raised his eyebrows at you, turning on the engine of the car.
“You know, this isn’t a Bond song,” you point out, causing him to laugh as he pulls away from the front of your house.
“It is more Bond than I am,” he simply answers with a grin, causing you to break out into giggles. You note he’s completely at ease, resting back into the plush leather seats of the car. His eyes focus on the road as he listens to Bublé’s baritone over the orchestra.
Never had you considered what it would be like to share a car with Sebastian Vettel. It was only now, watching the way he turned the wooden steering wheel with the ball of his palm, the tip of his tongue brushing his upper lip that you truly appreciated how much you had been missing out on.
He was stunning.
You glance down, watching as Sebastian changes gears flawlessly, effortlessly. He practically caressed the gearstick, pushing it in and out of place with the flick of his wrist.
“Can you be my personal taxi driver from now on?” You muse, glancing over to him and seeing that gorgeous smile creep across his lips once again.
“Why is that? You’ll get to the place you want to be quicker?” He asked, acting as though he had heard that joke a million times before. He probably had.
“No. You just drive prettier than the others,” you admit, not planning for it to come out quite as flirtatious as it did. Sebastian glances over at you, his eyes settling on your face for a moment. Chewing on your cheek, you watch as he smirks, revving the engine of the DB5.
Sebastian’s skilled driving meant you arrived perfectly on time- when was he ever late to anything? Ever the gentleman, he rushes from his side of the car to yours to open your door and help you out. One hand smoothing the front fabric of his blazer, the other holding yours to ensure you didn’t fall in your heels.
Excitement sounded from inside the Aston Martin factory, shouts of ‘Happy Birthday’ with whoops and cheers that made Sebastian grin.
You had noted the change in his personality since joining Aston Martin. The elated, humorous Vettel that had raced for Red Bull appeared to have lost his way in the scarlet Ferrari race suit. The charming, exuberant energy he carried with him dimmed over the many years he raced in their poor cars.
While you certainly couldn’t say that Aston Martin could compete consistently with Mercedes or Red Bull, you could proudly state that your team brought back that endearing charisma. Supporting Sebastian, making sure he was heard, had sparked that love for racing once more, and for that, you were eternally grateful that the four-time world champion knew his worth once more.
You watch as your teammates drag Sebastian away, his face positively glowing with happiness. They would be supplying him with alcohol all night no doubt. You had never seen him drink much, but you had heard of his infamous 30th birthday party in which he appeared at a hearing with Lewis Hamilton the day afterward, still somewhat tipsy.
Inside, the factory was bustling. Music played loudly as people in fancy dress all danced amongst you. Sebastian had disappeared with his mechanics, but you weren’t entirely concerned by it. He was a man of honor; he’d find his way back to you.
By 11 pm you couldn’t count how many martinis you had consumed. You had initially ordered them as a joke, in reference to your outfit, but found you really enjoyed them. All you knew was that you had drunk enough alcohol for your skin to be buzzing.
You had danced with members of the team, bumping into Daniel Ricciardo at one point and entering into a stupid, tipsy dance contest. Now you were back at the bar, skin sticky with sweat and spilled alcohol, you could take a moment to breathe.
No one had told you that Daniel was such a terrible dancer? It had been so funny to watch him trip over his own feet- though you weren’t sure that was because he was horrendous at throwing shapes or holding his liquor. Twisting your martini glass at the stem with your fingertips, you giggle to yourself as you stare at your reflection in the liquid.
You hadn’t seen Sebastian, and it had been three hours by now. It was hard to pretend you weren’t disappointed. A brave (and possibly very tipsy) part of you had hoped to drag him onto the dance floor at some point too.
Of course, he probably would have been unrelenting in his teasing of your lack of musicality. He definitely would try spinning you and you’d break an ankle and never love it down, knowing your luck. But with no Sebastian to be seen, you probably would avoid the embarrassment.
Raising the rim of the full martini glass that the bartender had slid across the countertop to your lips, your eyes scan the crowd. Amongst the revelers, you hoped to see blonde curls and piercing blue eyes. Instead, you found a now very drunk Daniel attempting to flirt with a female bartender, who was simply looking at him with a pitying expression.
You couldn’t claim to be entirely sober yourself, as the room was throbbing with each pulse of the base on the speakers.
Lance Stroll, who you had assumed would be a party animal, was more interested in having a conversation with a group of mechanics from your team at a table, laughing with them over a joke he shared
“Are you looking for someone?” A soft whisper in your ear causes you to startle. You turn your head quickly, the room spinning for a moment. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to focus properly, cheeks heating as you lock eyes with Sebastian.
“005!” You exclaim with a smile, “I’m so glad I finally found you.” He looks rather rough himself, his hair a mess and skin glistening with what had to have been champagne that had been sprayed over him.
“It’s more accurate to say I found you,” he points out, smiling as you gaze up at him. Those blue eyes catch you hook, line and sinker. Was it the alcohol in your system that made it feel as though you couldn’t breathe when he looked at you like that?
You feel his splayed palm across the curve of your back, and you have to hold onto the edge of the bartop to stop your knees from giving way.
“Are you drinking martinis?” Sebastian laughs now, pointing to the glass in your hand, “You have fully committed to the theme.”
“Would you like to try? They are very good- shaken, not stirred. Obviously,” you mumble, chewing on your bottom lip as he takes the glass in his free hand. His fingertips brush your knuckles as he does, the simple contact of your skin leaving burning heat in its wake.
You watch as Sebastian keeps your gaze with those sky blue irises, hypnotized as he lifts the liquor to his lips. He takes a sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing just above his bow tie as he drinks down the liquid.
From this close proximity, you could smell his cologne, working overtime to fight through the sweet smell of champagne and the sake of his sweat. It was intoxicating, oddly masculine from someone who always emanated a softer energy.
The potent mix of alcohol and cologne starts blurring your inhibitions. You find yourself pushing your fingers through the curls stuck to his forehead. The skin of his forehead burns under your skin, the combination of drinks and combined body heat of the hundreds of people on the dance floor contributing to the heat radiating from him.
“I didn’t bring you a gift,” you point out, grazing the pad of your thumb against his temple as you look up at him through your lashes. You swear you can feel him lean into your touch.
“You’re wrapped up like a gift,” he teases, the palm on the small of your back pulling you slightly closer. Your heart thumps in your chest as those baby blue eyes flick down to your lips. At that moment, you take the plunge, allowing yourself a quip that you believed Sebastian would be proud of. Leaning on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear over the booming music.
“Are you going to unwrap me like a birthday gift, then?”
When you pull away from him, Sebastian doesn’t allow you a moment to observe his expression and bathe in the glory of catching him off guard. He takes you by the hand, dragging you away from the bar and through the dancing crowd. His grip is firm on your hand, making sure he doesn’t lose you.
A bathroom door swings open, the fluorescent lights assaulting your vision after being in the dark for so long. Sebastian leads you inside, swiftly reaching behind you to shut and lock the door. His cheeks are flushed, and you assume it’s not only thanks to the alcohol.
His hands are on your hips in an instant, backing you against the door and pressing fevered kisses to your neck. You lean your head back, tangling your fingers in the golden curls at the base of his neck.
“Schatzi,” he groans against your throat, “You cannot tease me like this.” His hand moves through the slit of your skirt, fingers grasping at the top of your thigh. Fuelled with all these months of pining for you and the limitless flow of alcohol he’d drunk through the night, you feel his desperation leaking through each kiss and groan.
You lose yourself in him, pulling his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. He groans out when you slip your hand under the button-up shirt to graze his abdomen. His skin is smooth, and you can feel the ridges of his soft abs underneath your fingers.
You feel him begin to suck on your skin, no doubt leaving blossoming patches in his wake. In your tipsy haze, your mind swims. Once again, his palm is against the bottom of your back, bracing your hips as his other hand takes your thigh behind your knee. He lifts your thigh to rest on his hip bone.
It’s like he can’t get close enough to you, pressing his chest to yours as he pulls you impossibly closer. He lifts his head, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across the edge of your jaw before embracing you with the most breathtaking kiss.
His thumb runs across your collarbone, pushing the strap of your dress over your shoulder and exposing more of your skin to his touch. You hear his belt clink as you try to slip the end of the leather strap from the loops in his pants. He moans against your lips, your touch so close to where he needed you most and yet not close enough.
“You wanted me,” he whispers against your lips, hands wandering further under your skirt, pulling and teasing at the lace of your panties. “I saw the way you looked at me. Do you know what it did to me? Thinking about you every night after a race, wishing you were there to celebrate it with me…” Letting go, the elastic of your underwear snaps back, making you jump.
“Or maybe consoling me when I have a particularly difficult time. Promise me you’ll be there from now on?” He’s practically begging you, pulling back to look you in the eyes, groaning at your blissed-out expression.
“Yes, Sebastian,” you whimper, feeling the way his thumb ghosts over your cunt through the soaked fabric. “I promis-ohh.” He finds your clit through the material, circling it slowly in praise.
You feel the leg still balanced on the floor shaking as he teases you, grasping onto the lapels of his blazer. His gaze is intense, watching as your jaw goes slack at the simmering heat he was starting between your legs.
“Careful Schatzi,” he whispered, carefully pulling you away from the door and toward the sinks. You giggle weakly, tripping on the uneven tiles as he helps you along, peppering kisses along the skin of your chest.
Hands taking you gently by the hips, he spins you around so your back is pressed to his chest. The mirror above the sink reveals the blooming marks Sebastian had painted across your skin. The edge of the flat basin presses to your lower abdomen, and you press your palm against the porcelain.
“You are so beautiful, Engel,” he breathes, hands skimming the length of your waist with a feather-light touch. You see the reflection of his eyes drag across your body, noting your hardened nipples showing through the silk fabric of your dress.
His hands reach down, beginning to gather your skirt, and the cool air causes goosebumps to break out across the skin of your exposed legs. Lips press needy kisses against the curve of your shoulder as he slips the fabric down your hips.
“Step out,” he whispered, and you lifted your feet from the floor so he could remove your panties entirely. He leaves you waiting impatiently for his touch to return as he folds the fabric neatly and tucks them into his blazer pocket, on display for anyone to see when you leave. The sight alone had you whining his name.
The clink from the buckle of his belt echoes in the room, and the excitement and anticipation of being filled by him runs across your spine in a shiver. You had never in your wildest dreams allowed yourself to even consider what it would be like to have Sebastian Vettel, yet he had been thinking of you this whole time.
“Sebastian,” you moan, feeling his palm press between your shoulder blades to push your chest towards the bathroom counter. You lay your chest flat across the chilled material, gasping weakly as further goosebumps break out across your smooth skin.
You feel him hesitate behind you, his knuckles tracing your spine. “Is this okay?” He asks, ever the gentleman. You’ve never been so sure of anything, looking through the mirror to catch his eye and confirm that this was definitely what you wanted with a quick nod.
There’s a moment of silence as you feel the head of his cock brush through your folds slowly. The tip rubs against your clit, causing your eyes to roll back before he readies himself, taking ahold of your hips.
He pushes into you slowly, deliciously stretching you around the width of his cock. He gasps out, the tightness causing his hips to stutter for a moment. “Hah… Schatzi, you feel so good,” he moans out, fingers digging into your hip bones.
You whine at the stretch, nails digging into the flesh of your palms as the bottoms out, groaning at the way you flutter around him. He stalls, allowing you both a moment to prepare.
“Sebastian,” you moan, pushing back against him. You’re needy for friction, that simmering feeling begging to be stoked. He lets out a strained chuckle, pulling out slowly before setting a slow but devastating pace.
The drag of each ridge of his cock is delicious, the slow thrusts making sure you feel everything. Your heat is clenching him, swallowing him and he simply just can’t break into hard thrusts without feeling like he’d cum too soon. It’s been so long and you feel so good around him.
Skimming his fingers down, he circles your clit with expert fingers. “You are so wet for me, fuck,” he groans out. It’s erotic, hearing Sebastian swear. You’d never heard him swear like that before- and it went straight to your cunt.
“Are you going to cum for me?” Sebastian whispers, hearing the uptake in your breathing, and the way your legs shook from pleasure. You let out a choked ‘yes’, head hanging low between your shoulders as he began to build your orgasm.
“Come on baby~” he groans, using his hold on your waist to pick up the pace. He’s brushing something deep inside you that’s entirely earth-shattering, your jaw hanging open and cries of his name flowing clearly. He focuses on that same spot, pistoning his hips until the right coil bursts bright white.
Everything inside you pulls up tightly, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure that run from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. The sounds in your throat catch for a moment, a silent cry slowly devolving into a pathetic whine that bounces off the tiled walls.
Sebastian struggles, his hips faltering as your cries of bliss send him hurtling towards his orgasm. It rocks through him, the filthiest groan of your name spilling from his mouth. It barely registers in your mind as you pant heavily, the sounds drowned out by the buzz of your afterglow.
A still quiet befalls the two of you, your mixing pants the only sound inside the small bathroom. Sebastian’s knuckles once again brush over your skin, soothing you gently down from your high as he pulls out of you.
You stand back up on shaky feet, lifting the straps of your dress onto your shoulders once more to cover your chest, watching as Sebastian redresses. He glanced up at you as he fit his belt back in place, giving you a dazed, but dazzling smile.
As you glance into the mirrors, noting the beautiful, salacious artwork of colorful bruises against your neck that he had left behind, Sebastian disappears into one of the toilet stalls. He returns with toilet paper, leaning down to very gently clean the inside of your thighs.
His eyes flicker up to your face once again, allowing himself another smile. “I may have just obtained my license to thrill,” he mused, breaking through the awkward silence and making you laugh.
“You are impossible,” you muse, shaking your head as Sebastian discarded the soiled toilet paper. He chuckled to himself, washing his hands in the sink.
“Did I not?”
“No, you definitely did,” you laugh again, watching as he smiles smugly. It’s not like he could argue with the way your legs were unsteady and the dopey smile on your lips.
Approaching you again, he studies your face to ensure you are okay. You had sobered up and felt satisfied and oddly energized. Sebastian’s lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
It’s so pleasant, not as uncomfortable as you expected. Sebastian’s warm aura and understanding personality made it hard not to settle into his chest and relax with him in the silence that would usually make you feel rather unnerved.
“How about a dance?” He murmurs, taking your hands in his own and peppering the skin of your knuckles with equally loving kisses.
“You have no idea how long I have waited for you to ask me that.”
pairing: charles leclerc x singlemom!reader
word count: 4.4k words
request: yes/no, by @tamaraudvardy: "hii. can i request one where the reader has a 2yrs old baby boy from a prev relationship and they go on family skii vacation with charles and his fam and just a cute domestic charles like him playing with the child in the snow and pascale admiring how her son is so easily adapting to daddy role?🥺😍" when i tell you that this fic came at the perfect time... thank you for sending this!<3
prompt: letter z: zzz. from this christmas alphabet prompt list.
warnings: language, pregnancy, fluff, daddy!charles, uncle!pierre.
a/n: we've reached the end!!!! what was supposed to be the last fic of the year has turned into the first fic of the year, and i'm okay with that. happy new year, besties. i love you all. my askbox is always open for requests, currently the only drivers i write for are lando, mick, pierre, charles and george.
my masterlist / christmas alphabet masterlist
“okay, i want you to know that this is very new to me, i don’t usually do this type of thing,” you said pointing back and forth between you and the young man in front of you.
“yeah, i don’t either, but pierre spoke very highly of you, so i just thought, why not?” he replied, giving you a smile, and it helped calm your nerves.
“same, every time you two hung out together he’d send me pictures of the two of you,” you chuckled, charles nodded.
“he sent me pictures of you as well!” his eyes widened as he laughed, “if i didn’t know any better i would’ve thought you two were the ones dating,”
“god no. i mean, he’s one of my closest friends but…” you shivered, “even for me he’s a little too much,”
this was your first blind date ever. your friend pierre had set you up with one of his friends from work, ferrari driver charles leclerc. from what pierre had told you about him, you knew that charles came from a good family, he seemed respectful and down to earth.
the restaurant you were at was a bit too fancy for your liking, but your undivided attention was on charles. he spoke so passionately about his job, sometimes struggling to find the right word to explain some new concept so you could understand it more easily.
“i am so sorry, i just realized i’ve been talking about myself nonstop all night. please, tell me about you,” he drank from his glass of wine as you smiled at him.
“don’t worry, it’s nice hearing you talk so passionately about something. as for me, i-” the sound of your phone interrupted you. this was the special ringtone you’d set up for sydney, your nanny, “i’m so sorry, i need to take this,” you apologized as you stood up, walking to a quiet corner of the restaurant.
“sydney?” you answered the call.
“mommy!” you heard you little boy’s loud squeal.
“theo, what are you doing up at this hour?”
“you not said g’night!” he stumbled on his words. your little man had just turned two about three weeks ago and was starting to say complete sentences.
“you didn’t say goodnight,” you corrected him, nodding to yourself as you heard him repeat it. “good job, baby. now, are you in bed? ready to go to sleep?”
“yes, mommy!” he yelled, and you had to move your phone away from your ear as you laughed.
“okay, let’s do it. goodnight, blankie,” you heard him say the words at the same time as you, “goodnight, stars. goodnight, moon. goodnight, sydney. goodnight, mommy. goodnight, theo,” you finished your nightly ritual.
“love mommy!” he said, and you nearly felt your eyes watering. it was still hard to comprehend it, you made that little boy. you poured blood, sweat and tears into bringing that little soul to life.
“i love you, too, theo. now, go to sleep, okay?” you cooed.
“okay, mommy,” he yawned.
“night, baby,” you whispered, letting them hang up first. you smiled, clutching the phone in your hand, turning around. your eyes widened as you saw charles standing behind you. “how much of that did you hear?” you sighed. this wasn’t how you’d been planning to tell him, but…
“just you saying goodbye,” he said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.
“okay, i guess we’re rushing things now. come on, let’s sit and i’ll tell you what that was all about,”
after you sat down you explained that you had a little two-year-old from a previous relationship, the father had never wanted to be part of theo’s life, which made charles’ blood boil.
“i’m surprised pierre didn’t mention him. he loves being theo’s uncle.” you smiled, charles’ eyes widened in surprise.
“that’s your theo?” he asked, you frowned at the question. “sorry, it’s just, i… i facetimed him a few weeks ago, and he was babysitting a boy, (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) eyes.” you nodded, that seemed like your theo. “he’s such a great little guy! from what i heard he’s the only one able to keep pierre on his toes,”
“that he is, that’s my little boy,” you raised your glass, as if you were toasting in his honor, before taking a small sip.
conversation flowed easily, you were surprised that he didn’t back away instantly after finding out you had a child.
“i had a really nice night,” he said as he walked you to your car. you nodded, smiling at him.
“me too. this went better than i expected,” you confessed, noticing the way charles’ shoulders relaxed.
“is it… is it too soon to ask when i can see you again?” he took a step close to you.
“it is, but, i liked you, so…” you half smiled, shrugging a shoulder. “i think i can let it slide this once,” you chuckled.
it took a few months for you to be one hundred percent sure that theo was ready to meet charles. you’d told your little man about him, saying that he was your friend and that he wanted to meet him.
he was a little apprehensive at first, but you explained you’d be going to the park and meet him and pierre there. that did the trick.
“where uncle p?” theo asked as you walked to the spot you’d agreed, his small hand wrapped around your index finger.
“he’s waiting for us, he and charles are already there, can you see them?” you pointed to where the two friends were standing.
“i see! mommy i see uncle p!” he tightened his hold on you, running to the two drivers. “uncle p!” theo yelled, letting go of you when you were only a few meters away.
“there’s my little guy!” pierre lifted the little boy in his arms. “how’ve you been, theo?”
“good! i saw you on tv!” he smiled. “i saw you too! red car!” he pointed at charles, who had a soft smile on his face. both drivers had just come back from a race the previous weekend. “down, uncle p, please,” theo asked and pierre put him down.
“did you like the race, theo?” charles asked, crouching in front of him. your heart was beating fast inside your chest. you’d really grown to like charles profoundly over the past months, and you both could see a future together.
“yeah! they go fast,” theo put his arms in front of him, as if he were holding a steering wheel, and started running around as he imitated the cars he heard on tv. you all laughed, and you watched as the three of them started talking about the cars, about racing, about the possibility that you and theo could join them for a grand prix weekend.
after about thirty minutes of the four of you playing in the park, it was pierre’s time to leave. you hugged the frenchman and thanked him for helping theo open up to charles. after two more hours of playing in the park, theo started feeling antsy, and charles noticed right away.
"i don't know about you guys, but i'm feeling a little hungry. would anyone like to join me for some pizza and spaghetti?" he remembered theo's favorite food. you smiled as you watched theo's eyes widen in surprise, nodding his head vigorously. now, you sat with theo in front of you, charles to your side as you all waited for your food to arrive. the two of them were talking about everything their minds could think of, sometimes leaving you out of the conversation for a few minutes. you didn’t mind, it was great knowing that theo felt at ease with charles after only knowing him for a few hours.
“mommy, mommy!” theo called for you, making you snap out of your thoughts, you looked at him, smiling instantly.
“yes, baby?” you asked.
“can cha play with me tonight? i wan’ show him my toys!” theo said before taking a sip of his lemonade. your eyes darted from your little boy, to charles, who placed a hand on your thigh, his action hidden by the table.
“w-well… we have to ask him, theo.” you panicked.
“cha, play with me?” theo asked, looking directly at charles, raising his head a little as he stuck his bottom lip out.
“if-if mommy says it’s okay,” you placed your hand on top of his, and he flipped it over so your palms were pressed against each other, lacing your fingers together.
“mommy, pleeeaseee?” theo begged, and it took everything in you not to melt instantly.
“okay, only for a little bit, though.”
“this my room!” theo stood on his tiptoes to turn on the light, his other hand clutching charles’.
charles’ eyes widened at the amount of red bull and alpha tauri merch that hung on the walls. posters, caps, everything.
“i think i might get fired if anyone sees me in here,” charles mumbled as theo ran around grabbing whatever he wanted to show charles.
the three of you were sitting on the floor, playing with the new paw patrol toy you got him a few weeks ago. at some point during the night, theo spilled juice over his clothes and you changed him into his favorite pjs, which he proudly showed to charles, they were a kid-size replica of a f1 race suit. after hours of playing, theo yawned, rubbing his eyes as he leaned to his right, resting against charles’ arm.
“‘m tired,” theo whispered between yawns as charles looked at you with wide eyes.
“do you want me to tuck you in?” you asked, leaning in, your fingers rubbing against his cheek and moving his hair away from his face. he visibly relaxed under your touch, his small hands wrapping around charles’ arm.
“cha,” he said.
“yes, theo?” charles butted in as he heard his new nickname.
“cha tucks me in,” theo demanded, eyes shut as he nuzzled against the driver’s arm. you both looked at each other, a huge grin on charles’ face. he raised his eyebrows, asking for permission. shyly, you nodded.
it was like a switch had been flipped inside charles, he instantly knew what to do. holding theo close to his chest as he stood up. whispering soft words in the little boy’s ear as he walked him to his bed. once theo’s head was resting against the pillows of his car-themed bed, he made grabby hands, frowning.
charles turned to you, and you handed him theo’s blanket. charles wrapped it around theo’s frame, pulling the rest of the covers up as well.
“g’night,” theo whimpered. you’d thought he’d already fallen asleep, but he still had enough energy to say goodnight.
“do you want to teach charles how to say goodnight?” you asked, kneeling next to theo as charles sat on the bed. theo nodded, leaning on his side, slightly opening one eye.
“say as me,” theo said, you chuckled, saying the sentence correctly, “repeat after me,”
“okay,” charles smiled.
“goodnight, blankie. goodnight, stars. goodnight, moon. goodnight, mommy. goodnight, theo. goodnight, cha.” charles repeated the words, and once they finished, your little boy yawned, falling asleep instantly.
after staring at theo for a few minutes, making sure he was fast asleep, charles helped you up, holding your hand as you left the room. as soon as the door was shut, you felt his hands on your face, his lips against yours in a fiery kiss.
“i want in. i’m all in. i want this, every day, for the rest of my life.”
and now, six months later, your little family arrived at the chalet you rented for the holidays and for theo's birthday. in just two days your baby boy was turning three.
"this is so cool!" you smiled as you heard theo's high-pitched voice. "i want to play in the snow!” he yelled.
“in a minute, champ. first we have to unload everything from the car and bring it inside, can you help me with that?” charles asked, and theo nodded from his spot in the backseat.
“yeah, i’m strong,” he said as he flexed his muscles, making you laugh.
after you settled in and unpacked everything, theo dragged you and charles out of the chalet and into the snow. he fell dramatically, spreading his arms and legs, making a snow angel.
“cha! help me up!” theo raised his arms, looking at charles. even though his speech was a little better, he still held on to the nickname he gave to charles when they first met.
“please?” you reminded him, lifting an eyebrow.
“cha, can you help me up, please?” theo repeated, charles ran to him, hoisting him up from the snow. “look!”
“it’s theo’s angel,” charles said, and theo leaned his head against charles’.
“you make an angel! and mommy too!” he turned around, seeing you taking a picture of the two of them. “mommy!”
“sorry, baby, you two were looking so cute,” you walked to them and kissed theo’s cold, chubby cheek.
“okay, now i take one of you two!” theo said and he started shifting in charles’ arms. charles put him down and theo extended his hands. after handing him your phone and explaining to him how to take it, theo ran back. charles put his arms around you, you leaned into his side. “i got it! mommy, cha, i did it!” he rushed to you and showed you the pictures he took. as you would expect from a (nearly) three-year-old, some were cropped, in some you could only see the snow, and one was perfect.
“how about a picture us three?” charles suggested. theo smiled brightly, you picked him up as charles extended his arm.
“say cheese,” theo instructed, making you laugh just as charles pressed his finger against the screen.
the day before theo’s birthday, you drove to a kid-friendly resort, where theo could play with other kids and learn the basics of skiing. charles’ family was arriving on christmas morning, and you’d all made plans to go up to the mountains. but first, you had to make sure that theo felt comfortable, so you signed him up online for a lesson.
“okay, theo, let’s go, the lesson’s about to start,” you crouched in front of him, making sure his jacket was secure around him. “are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” you asked.
“i’m a big boy, mommy! i can do it!”
“okay, well, charles and i will be right here, alright? if you need anything you can call for us, okay?” you reminded him as he nodded his head.
“bye, cha!” he waved his hand as charles arrived with the gloves that theo had left in the car. charles kneeled next to you, putting theo’s gloves on.
“go have fun, theo. we’ll be right here in case you need anything. you know i can come with you if you want,”
“mommy already said it! i can go alone!” he laughed.
“okay, i was just saying…” charles leaned in, pressing a kiss to theo’s head. “take care, theo. i love you,”
“hi! i’m sophie, that’s my dad!” a girl around five years old approached you, and she pointed to the instructor. “he asked me to help theo today!” she smiled.
“that’s so nice, thank you sophie!” charles said.
“good luck, theo. we’ll be right here, okay?” you smiled at him.
“bye, mommy. bye, cha!” he waved his hand, even though he was still standing in front of you.
“we love you, theo. have fun!” you hugged him one last time.
“love you, mommy. love you, cha!” theo said as he and sophie rushed to where the rest of the kids were.
“why don’t you call him dad?” the girl asked. theo looked up at her. “the man, you called him cha.”
“yeah, mommy and cha!” theo nodded.
“you should call him dad, though. daddies feel bad when you don’t.”
“okay,” theo said just as the instructor called for everyone’s attention.
the rest of the day was filled with laughter, snow, and hot chocolate, and as you tucked theo in that night, you felt your eyes tearing up. he was turning three tomorrow. you thought back to that christmas eve, the day he was born. you were alone, scared, you had no one. but the second you heard him crying, the first moment the nurses placed him in your arms… you knew you’d be okay.
“i can’t believe he’s turning three tomorrow,” you sighed, resting your head on charles’ chest. theo was fast asleep in the room next door and you were feeling sleepy as the seconds passed.
“i know, i feel like it was yesterday when i first met him,” charles played with your hair. you nodded. “time goes by so fast. next thing we know he’ll be off to college,” charles said.
“i love you,” you felt so many emotions at the same time. nostalgia about theo growing up, nervous about theo meeting charles’ family for the first time, thankful for having someone as marvelous and wonderful as charles by your side.
it might seem cliche, but you fell asleep with a smile on your face.
“happy birthday to you,” you and charles sang as you walked into theo’s room, holding a birthday cake. “happy birthday to you,” you sat on theo’s bed, charles kneeling on the floor as he ran his fingers through theo’s hair. the boy’s eyes felt heavy as he blinked. “happy birthday, dear theo.” you giggled as theo sat up on the bed, wide eyes darting from you, to charles, to the cake in front of him. “happy birthday to you,” you both finished singing as theo pulled charles off the floor. charles moved the pillows aside, sitting against the headboard with theo on his lap.
“make a wish, theo,” charles said, you both watched as theo closed his eyes, frowning as he thought about the perfect wish. he gasped, eyes wide open as he blew the candles. you cheered for him, setting the cake on the bedside table so you could hold you little boy in your arms.
“happy birthday, my theo. mommy loves you so much,” you held him tight.
“thank you, mommy! i love you,” you felt his lips against your cheek, and it took everything in you not to cry at the wholesomeness of it all.
“my turn, my turn,” you heard charles shuffling around on the bed, felt his arm around you, the other one around theo as the boy wrapped his small hands around charles’ neck. “happy birthday, little theo. mommy and i have a whole day planned just for you. i love you,” charles said.
“love you, daddy!” theo mumbled against charles’ neck.
you both froze for a few seconds, looking at each other with wide eyes. you couldn’t panic for too long, though, because soon, theo was too enthralled by the idea of a birthday cake just for him, and all the activities you’d planned for him.
throughout the rest of the day, and you didn’t know where theo had gotten it from, he kept calling charles ‘daddy’. that night, on your way back to the chalet, theo fell asleep in the backseat, which gave you the perfect opportunity to talk to charles.
“charles, i…” you started, suddenly panicking. he gripped your hand, which he always held whenever you were in the car. “i swear, i don’t know where he got it from. i-”
“hey, it’s okay. i’ve… secretly been waiting for this moment for a few months now,” he confessed. “do you remember the first day i met theo?” he asked, you nodded, feeling the pad his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. “i meant it back then, and i do now. i’m all in. i’m never letting go of you two.” he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles.
“how are you real?” you smiled.
“mommy! daddy! santa!” theo’s excited squeals woke you up. you felt charles’ arms tightening around you, his face pressed against your neck. a small body climbed in bed with you, jumping up and down on the mattress. “daddy! wake up! mommy!” theo grunted, falling to his knees as he snaked his way between you two. “santa came!”
“santa!?” charles asked, jumping up from the bed. “what are we waiting for! come on, theo, let’s see what santa left!” charles opened his arms and theo jumped. you heard their footsteps walking away, you shook your head as you finally opened your eyes. you stretched your arms over your head, standing up and sliding your feet in your slippers.
“thanks for waking me up,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest as you descended the stairs.
charles and theo looked at you with wide eyes.
“sorry, mommy, look!” theo pointed to all the presents you’d placed under the tree the owners of the chalet provided.
“whoa, theo! you must’ve behaved really good this year,” you approached them, sitting on the floor next to them.
he started opening up all of the presents, his joy growing more with each one. once the initial euphoria of all the new toys died down a bit, you left your two men in the living room setting up the battery car that charles got him - a red ferrari, obviously,- and went to make some hot chocolate for everyone, making extra since charles’ family were arriving in about an hour.
“mommy, look!” you heard from behind you, you turned around to see theo wearing a new onesie, a replica of charles’ racing suit. theo was sitting on the red car, which charles was controlling with a remote.
“oh, my goodness.” you laughed, “theo! look at you!” you smiled, looking at your little boy, with a wide smile on your face.
“daddy got me this!” he patted his torso.
“that was so nice of him, did you say thank you?”
“thank you, daddy!” theo climbed out of the car and hugged charles, who lifted him up as they walked to you.
“you’re welcome, theo,” charles placed a kiss on theo’s head, then one on your forehead.
“we’re here!” you heard from the entrance of the house.
“come here, theo,” you grabbed your son as charles walked to his mom, hugging her. “that’s pascale, charles’ mom,” you whispered in his ear, theo nodded. “that’s arthur,” you pointed to the youngest leclerc, “and that’s lorenzo. they’re his brothers,”
“i don’t have brothers,” theo said, you nodded.
“will i ever have any brothers?” theo asked.
“well… maybe, in the future,” you nodded, watching charles embracing his brothers. “do you want a brother? or a sister?”
“yeah,” theo leaned his head on your shoulder.
after the introductions were made, the rest of the leclercs presented theo with gifts they’d brought just for him, hoping to get him to open up more easily.
“daddy, look!” theo called, making arthur choke on his drink. “it’s a toy car! like the one santa gave me! i wanna play in the snow, please?” theo asked, you stood from your spot next to him and held his hand.
“come on, let’s go change your clothes. we’ll be right back,” you said, walking upstairs with theo.
did you panic and left charles alone to deal with it? maybe. but it felt right to let him be the one to tell his family about his plans for the future.
“so… daddy?” arthur smirked. receiving a punch in the arm from lorenzo. “ow!”
“charles, this…” his mom said.
“i know, i know this is a huge step for me, for (y/n), for theo. but i- i fell in love with him the moment i met him. they’re the best thing that could ever have happened to me. and (y/n), she… she’s everything i’ve ever needed, all i ever wanted. i’m happy. we’re all happy.”
“my boy,” pascale walked to charles, embracing her son. “i’m so proud of you. so happy.”
“daddy!” theo said as you walked down the stairs. “we can use the car santa left and the car uncle king gave me and make a race!”
“uncle king?” charles asked, furrowing his eyebrows. theo nodded, pointing to arthur.
“like king arthur,” theo explained. he loved to hear that story before bedtime. “uncle king.”
“i’m keeping him,” arthur said.
the three leclerc brothers and your son were playing in the snow, burying charles under a mountain of snow, making a snowman.
“i’ve never seen him happier,” pascale said as she stood next to you.
“he’s been wonderful these past few months. and from the first date, when i told him about theo, he didn’t back away. instead he just seemed more excited to meet him, hang out with him. and when they met, they… they just clicked, you know?” you said.
“theo, i have one last surprise for you,” you walked in his bedroom as he was putting away all the toys you gave him for his birthday and for christmas.
“another one?” he asked.
“yes, and i need your help with something, are you in?”
“yes, mommy!” you now five-year-old son smiled.
“okay. give me your hand,” you instructed, holding his hand against your stomach. “there’s a baby in here,”
“a baby?” his eyes went wide. “mommy, why did you eat a baby?”
“no, theo,” you laughed, kissing his head, “this is where babies live before they’re ready to come out into the world,” you noticed an adorable frown in his face as he tried to process what you’d just said. “don’t worry, theo, we’ll explain everything as time goes by and you’ll understand it when you’re older, okay?” theo nodded. “okay, now, i need your help telling daddy,”
“he doesn’t know?” he gasped
“no, you’re the first person i wanted to tell. i know how much you’ve wanted a sibling for so long,” you rubbed your thumb against his cheek.
about twenty minutes later, theo’s ready for bed, you nod your head encouragingly.
“daddy, goodnight!” theo called, and a few seconds later charles came in to his room.
“we’re ready for bed?” charles asked.
“yes!” theo smiled, holding the stuffed dragon that charles gave him yesterday.
“okay, let’s do this,” charles said sitting next to you on the bed, his hand holding yours, playing with the ring on your finger.
“goodnight, stars. goodnight, moon. goodnight, mommy. goodnight, daddy. goodnight, theo.” the three of you said.
“goodnight, baby.” you and theo finished, charles frowned looking from your son, to you, to the smile on your face.
“baby?” he asked, you nodded, feeling small tears in your eyes.
who would’ve thought, that theo’s sleep ritual would help you tell charles one of the biggest new of his life.
you felt his arms around you protectively all night, and while charles was sleeping you could hear him mumbling in his sleep… “baby”.
i wanted to give you something before the end of the year. Wrote this in different type of perspective because it was important for me to show this special type of love two people can have, you know?
She gracefully carried herself through the expanse of his bedroom. Not even bothering herself to cross the safe distance dividing her from his conjoined, equally luxurious bathroom space before hooking her fingers under the material of her sleeping shorts, and tugging the fabric down her legs, dropping them mindlessly in the center of his room just to disappear behind the safety of the threshold a second later.
“Is this your way of telling “good morning” to me, now?” He called after her. Eyes still ogling the sad and abandoned piece of clothing located so close, yet too far from the reach of his hand.
“Not yet, sunshine.” a troubled groan makes its way out of Mick’s mouth at the sight of his girlfriend. God. She was perfect. He mused to himself while watching her from his place on the bed, he took his time observing her precisely through the angle of the open bathroom doors.
A black pair of her favorite set of high-wasted jeans clung to her body like a second pair of skin, perfectly revealing and shaping every curve her body had on display. Her body was divinely sculpted. Mick couldn’t help but notice when she leaned over the bathroom counter, her fingers gently gripping onto the edge of the countertop as she carefully observed herself in the reflection of the vanity mirror, her weight propped up on her hip, as she reached for her favorite perfume bottle.
Her chest was covered by the lacy, delicate material of the bra Mick knew all too well, front glistened with sparkles that reflected from the rays of sunshine that crawled into the small space through open curtains completely stealing the show. His heart leaped inside his chest, bounding harder against his ribs for one insane second, maybe it was a full minute or two. He didn’t care. His girl was beautiful, her face striking, eyes catching, smug and playful in every sense of the word. High and sharp features, plump rosy lips made him shift unconditionally in his spot on the bed - he was ready to spring towards her at any moment.
He noticed her lips forming on words, just as he observed the movement of her tongue against the front of her teeth from time to time. But he heard nothing coming out of her mouth. Nothing proceeded through to his ears as long as he was lost in his own thoughts, undressing her entire body with only his eyes.
“You know that I’m not an exhibit Sunshine. You can touch me if you want,” she laughed quietly while shifting her weight on the cold bathroom tiles. Eyes scanning through the pile of scattered clothes around the bed through the reflection of the mirror.
When he didn’t respond for a while, she just gazed up at him brows drew together in askance. His bottom lip pulled in between his teeth, still completely lost in his head.
When she finally emerged from the safe bathroom space, her eyes shifted to his, fully misremembering how to breathe properly.
“You’re killing me, Schatz.” There he was again, voice lower by octave with those captivating blue eyes watching her closely, as the hunter preparing to attack its prey.
She moved from her place, taking tender and precise steps towards his already needy embrace, clutching his extended hand in hers felt like her only life support when he helped her kneel on the soft cushions of the bed and melt into the mattress the second she put her weight on it. Sitting down on her knees in front of him, with eyes full of adoration and love, the wholehearted smile pushed its way onto her lips.
She loved those types of mornings with Mick. When everything was still hazy and lulled with sleep. When there was no expectation of what the next day would bring to them. She loved those small morning movements they worked on since she could have him all to herself again, after sharing him for more or less the entire year - from the petite, humble, and somewhat even shy first touches to something more intimate.
“How do you plan on saying Good Morning to me, then?” Mick couldn’t help but muse at her, lips trembling in a sudden break of a serious character while his hands pushed forward to take gentle hold of her hip. Skilled fingers increase warmth and pure fire all over her body when he drawls her towards his chest, she squeaks surprised as her legs are on both sides of his abdomen.
A string of laughs leaves out her mouth, “just like this.” she murmured against the warmth of his lips before she leaned over and connected their lips in a quick kiss. And he kissed her back, like he missed her for more than a good night’s sleep.
The palms of her hands spread over the globes of his bare shoulders, fingers digging into his bare skin as she mewled inside his mouth just as his tongue darted across her teeth in a starving crusade.
“And-” she titled her head back to be able to take a good look at him. He never looked better, the blue abyss of color in his eyes made her core clench in need. She never knew what starving was until she felt the taste of him on her tongue. His eyes dull and full of love for her. “-like this” moving to his beautifully reddened cheeks, pointy nose, and chin. Making sure to mark and caress every single inch of him before she slipped further down his breathtaking body.
From the side of his neck, where the smell of him was still the strongest, to both points of his collarbones making sure to treat them equally with sweet and moist kisses.
Mick smelled like vanilla, flowers, and love - so, so much love.
Her breaths fell heavy when he pushed her down on the soft bedsheets only to hover over her silhouette not a second later, desire shining clearly in his eyes.
“You should manage your time better,” Mick murmured against the plump rim of her top lip. Gently pecking the surface before sitting up and leaving her completely speechless for a second.
She full-on giggled, stretching her entire body out onto the entire surface of the bed like a cat ready for a nap, before extending her hand from him to take and pull her into the sitting position. Thanking him with a quick peck on the lips before moving off the bed towards the nearest closet.
“I’ll be home in a few hours, don’t miss me too much. Sunshine.” she chimed in while throwing a low-cut sweater over her head, much to Mick’s disapproval. “How do I look?”
Mick narrowed his eyes, a scoff leaving his lips before he simply rose from the bouncy mattress. “Like you need to take it off.”
She gave him a flat look, before moving to grab some of her things from the side of Mick’s side table the one they shared for a while when the world came down to a complete frenzy of quarantine and stay home movement.
“Whoa…Hey!” she calls out in alarm as Mick pulls her over to where he’s standing by the material of the sweater, caging her back in his warm embrace. Firm arms engulf her smaller body completely. Fingers press tightly over the skin of her hip, the feel of his lips on her neck is sending a burst of almost electrical current to every cell of her nerves sending into your body. With his nose firmly buried into the side of her neck as the hot whiff of airdrops over the naked skin, she has to hold still for one insane moment.
“I really need to go,” she all but whispered and breathed out inwardly when Mick loosened his grip on her. Taking a few steps back and grabbing onto her misplaced books you throw an accusing finger at him
“Stay!” pointing her finger at him sternly while backing away from his bedroom, eyes narrowing at his amused expression. She obviously didn’t want him to follow her around because she knew better than that, and what her boyfriend was capable of.
Getting rid of Mick when you had some unfinished business was almost impossible.
“Okay,” he says, arms tugging up in a gesture of surrender. “Will you rub my tummy if I stay? Or do I get a treat?” his eyes are sparkling with amusement.
He so secretly loves it.
“I refuse to answer that now, sunshine,” she called over the threshold of the room.
And then the door to his apartment slammed shut. with a silent promise of what’s coming later.
can i request a fluffy dad!danny ric with his son? maybe one where his son is so full of energy. i love your writing btw!
Hi Anon!! I have baby fever all the time so this, this is just 💯 I'm going to love this!! I hope you enjoy it and thank you it means so much to me.💖
ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ: The Honey Badger dealing with his energetic mini and enjoying the little one on his time off.
ɴᴏᴛᴇ: English is not my first language, this is unedited.
𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐀 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝘋𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘭 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘰
There were many things that you were thankful for in your life. Your family, friends, a job you enjoyed, your son, and of course your husband who had insisted that you take a day for yourself while he watched over Xavier. It was rare for him to be home and whenever he is home he would spend all his time with you and your son, but he knew you needed some time for yourself too.
You were stood at the entrance of yours and Daniel's home, your baby boy held to your chest while going over his schedule with Dan, though he already knew it from the top of his head he gave you the satisfaction of listening. You stopped when you saw the smile on your husband's face a small pout resting on your face.
"I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
Letting out a laugh he nodded his head and held his arms out for the four-year-old. Pressing a kiss to the little Ricciardo's cheek, who gave you one in return went to his dad willingly who was put down in front of him. He was already excited because whenever Daniel was around he could have all the sweets he want, and he was allowed to attempt driving on the sim.
"You're just being a mum, he'll be fine, go and have fun babe."
Sighing you nodded and kissed Daniel and bent down kissing the little boy before waving goodbye to them. The moment you were out of the door Xavier spun around and grinned at Daniel, the same one he had whenever he wanted something.
"Can I have ice cream for breakfast, please daddy?"
Of course, he had gotten the puppy eyes from you, a look that was Daniel's weakness even before the two of you got together. Mulling over his choices in his head the driver picked up his mini-me and grinned nodding his head.
"Don't tell mummy, or she''ll have my head on a platter."
Xavier clapped his hands excitedly and merged his father to move faster, and that is how most of their day went, the father-son duo playing, eating junk food his trainer or even you would never allow them to eat, but playing on the sim was by far Daniel's favourite thing to do.
"One day, I want to be just like you daddy."
It was the very words that melted Daniel instantly, his arms wrapped around his small body while holding him close, his feet controlling the pedals of the car while he let his son steer. Despite only being four years old he wasn't as bad as most kids would be, Daniel had wanted him to go karting as soon as possible and that time is fast approaching, but he knew you didn't want your baby to grow up just yet.
It was around half-past nine when Daniel had built a blanket fort for them, his laptop placed in the middle with Cars playing, the big brown eyes the both of you created staring at the screen even though he had seen it a hundred times. When ten pm approached and he yawned he crawled up to Daniel wrapping his litter arm around his dad and snuggled into him.
"I love you, daddy."
Four years and still to this day the driver was in awe of Xavier, he was the kindest and most energetic child he had ever seen, Daniel loved him to no end and so did you, he so badly wanted to do it all over again with you, he wanted your family to grow. Wrapping his larger arm around him and kissing his head hearing the light snores of his son he smiled and closed his eyes.
"I love you too, bud."
That was exactly how you found them when you got home, sound asleep in their fort holding onto one another, smiling at your boys you took out your phone snapping a photo, both their mouths slightly open and their hair messy, posting it to Instagram the little comment:
'Like father, like son.❤'
Changing into more comfortable clothes and removing your make up you crawled in careful not to wake them and snuggled into Daniel's other side, whispering a good night to your boy and husband who held you closer, kissing his cheek and drifting into a peaceful sleep.
-> Daniel had an unconventional way of ensuring he has good luck on his side when he drives.
-> Authors Notes: I am extremely new to the world of F1, and my terminology may not be entirely correct. Please try to be considerate of that :) I’m trying! Not a single creative thought has gone into this fic, simply horny thots.
-> Word Count: 4.6K
Cw/Tw: SMUT. Oral (f receiving) swearing, slight dirty talk? Daniel is a soft boi in this. (Pet name Apples is Aussie slang for 'she'll be apples'/'everything will be all right'). Not proof read. Please note I have a glitch on my tumblr that makes paragraphs repeat. If you see this, please inform me so I can edit them out x
Leonardo Da Vinci’s anatomical studies were some of your favorites ever made. The gentle pencil strokes against the weathered, yellowed paper so intricate, his talent seeping into the graphite discarded on the notepaper grain. Despite the beauty, none of his sketches ever compared to the way you felt about Daniel Ricciardo.
As his childhood friend, you had watched him grow, the young man with his curly brown locks and crooked teeth who slid around in his kart seat had finally grown enough that his hands were big enough to hold a steady grip on the steering wheels that had previously dwarfed his palms. Stubble shadowed his jaw and his baby face had structure to it, his cheekbones protruding from his previously round cheeks.
Some things definitely didn’t change. He was still tall, his chocolate curls still unruly. The deep tan from bathing in the Australian sunshine brought out the rich hickory of his irises, those same eyes holding that mischievous glint that he’d had ever since you met in the playground of primary school and he insisted you play ‘cars’.
Yet another ever constant in Daniel was his teasing.
“Wow, are you seriously telling me you’d rather watch Lando than me?” His voice infects with mock hurt, one hand leaving the steering wheel to grip at his chest dramatically. You scoff, rolling your eyes at the melodrama.
Daniel had offered to give you a ride to the Monza track from the hotel he’d put you up in just so he could finally drag you to the races. Despite desperately avoiding the track for fear of feeling completely out of your depth, your childhood best friend's incessant whining had finally bent you to his will- as it often did.
It wasn’t as though you could really say no to Italian sunshine…
“Why wouldn’t I?” You match his energy, gazing out of the window so you wouldn’t break character when you caught his eye, “Lando is obviously the better driver.”
Daniel is positively irate at this point, playfully glowering at you from the driver's seat. “I will force you out of this car and you can walk!” You can’t help but giggle now, shaking your head. He never failed to make you smile, your pocketful of sunshine that far outshone any of the gorgeous weather in Italy.
You glance over to him once more, taking in how he looked today. Of course, your friend could never pass up the opportunity to wear a brightly colored shirt. He lived for attention, able to be spotted in a crowd of thousands just by what he wore. He had grown his stubble a little, and his Ray-Bans sit on the bridge of his nose.
… His nose. Of course, there were so many parts to Dan that were your favorite. But his nose was one that caused your heart to race. A Roman bridge, large. It was hard not to think about the way it would feel with his face between your thighs, tip nudging at your clit-
“You’re staring, Apples,” Daniel’s voice cuts through the quiet of the car, peering over the edge of his sunnies at you. You startle as you come to, heat flooding your face as you quickly turn away, his laugh causing you to practically shrink inwards from embarrassment.
“Anything, in particular, caught your attention?” He asks you, leaning across the console of the car to pinch at your thighs playfully, and you squeal, pushing away his hands.
His tanned hands were so large, they could cover your thigh well if he splayed his fingers out. You couldn’t help, even in a moment like this, wondering what it would feel like if he dug his fingertips in, massaging your skin.
“Focus on the road, Daniel!” You scold him, and he just laughs louder, insisting that you can’t change the subject that easily. You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest, still truly mortified at the way he had caught you red-handed.
“Do you look at Lando like that, you know, him being ‘the better driver’?” He mocks you, and you give him a look to say he better be quiet.
It wasn’t as though you’d never experienced these intrusive thoughts of Daniel before. Ever since high school with him, you couldn’t help but wish it was you who’d get paired with him during spin the bottle sessions, or that he’d slow dance with you at prom.
He did dance with you- but you couldn’t exactly call the Macarena romantic.
As time went on, and Daniel became more and more successful in his F1 career, you began to let go of the hope that he may one day turn his affection onto you. After all, since he won at Monaco with Red Bull, girls had been arriving and leaving like a revolving door.
The screams of adoration are loud even from inside the car. You chew the inside of your cheek, glancing over at Daniel as he waved at the adoring fans. You’d never ruin his moment to shine, never take away his fun. But sometimes you wished you could show how much you adored him- how much more you adored him than these strangers did.
When you arrived at the McLaren garage, you fell into a routine, sitting off to the side as the team got ready to start the day. The mechanics were ensuring everything was in working order as Daniel was getting changed into his racing suit. You messed with your fingers awkwardly as you watched around the paddock.
“You look lost,” the familiar voice of Lando Norris caught your attention. He was smiling wide, dressed already in his blue racing suit as he stretched out a hand to you. “I have heard a lot about you.”
Lando was handsome, freckles loosely littering the tanned skin of his face, curls clipped short with locks falling across his forehead. The green of his eyes would practically disappear when he smiled, eyelids closing with the strain of the muscles in his cheeks.
“Lando,” you greeted him with a weak smile, shaking his hand with a gentle touch, “it’s nice to meet you.”
“He’s always running late,” Lando mused, looking around the garage as if to make it clear it was lacking a tall, arrogant Aussie. Lando wasn’t exactly wrong. You honestly didn’t think that Daniel had ever been on time for any important event ever. You would often joke he would be late for his own wedding.
It was hard not to feel overwhelmed here, especially without Daniel by your side. Pyro Tools whirred loudly as the mechanics worked on ensuring the car was perfect, the thrum of noise making you shrink further into your chair. It certainly was easier being a spectator.
Though, you weren’t on your own very long, Daniel’s loud laugh alerting you to the fact he was around before you even saw him. The noise drew eyes, everyone glancing over as he stepped into the paddock.
Daniel’s race suit was unzipped down his torso, hanging from his hips and revealing the fireproof bodysuit that clung to his body, the kind that left barely anything to the imagination. You wished the material would cover your cheeks, as the heat that was radiating from your face surely would have the marshals running over with fire extinguishers.
He grins when he notices you watching, practically skipping over with number 3 emblazoned helmet in hand. “Are you gonna be my good luck charm?” You nod dumbly, trying so desperately to pull yourself together as to not stare at the way his nipples showed through the material of the bodysuit.
“Okay, kiss the helmet,” he muses, watching you with mischievous eyes that always set a pit in the depths of your stomach. The kind that you were never certain whether he was just teasing or if he was really flirting with you this time.
“Dan- It’s only a practice session! What would you need me to kiss it for?” You scoff weakly, stumbling over your excuses. It certainly doesn’t help that you swear half of the paddock's eyes are on you.
“Practice is still important- and dangerous!” He winks at you, holding the helmet up to your face with both hands, nudging your chin. That expectant gleam in his eye, the fluttering in your stomach- you couldn’t deny him.
So you lean forward, gazing up at him through your lashes as you press your lips to the plastic, right next to the orange number 3. Daniel’s eyes are fixated on you, his smirk faltering slightly as you prolong the kiss to the cool, shiny plastic.
When you pull away, the chapstick that you insisted on wearing around Daniel (just in case, even after all this time) left a glossy, lip-shaped print. You can see Daniel’s eyes snap to it, tilting the helmet under the fluorescent lights in an attempt to get a better look.
There’s a pause, silence floating between the two of you as Daniel watches you. The tension is thick, your stomach somersaulting like a barrelling F1 car. It feels as though it hits a wall when Daniel’s tongue brushes over his lower lip.
You hear Daniel’s name shouted from the other side of the paddock, ripping the two of you from your moment. “Ah- Thank you Apples,” he clears his throat, cutting the energy between you and giving a smile as he turns to head off. The change in tone practically gives you whiplash, gazing helplessly after him.
Shifting in your seat, flushed and heart racing, you watch as Daniel feeds his arms through the race suit, zipping it up. He was getting in the zone, leaving you in the garage as he readied to pour his heart out on the track.
You just wished you could zone in on something other than him.
As he pulls out of the garage in the car, you feel the ground shake with the power of the Mclaren’s engine. The vibrations tingle the balls of your feet through the soles of your shoes, leaving a pond and needles sensation behind. The strength of the machines that Daniel drove simply blew your mind, as did the fearless attitude he faced his job with.
There was little reason for Daniel to have asked you to stand in as a good luck charm. He tore up the tarmac every time the rubber of his tires touched it, throwing his everything into the weekend from practice to the final lap of Sunday races.
When you watched him like this, drifting corners and speeding almost effortlessly along the straights, it was impossible to think anyone could possibly beat him in Sunday’s race. You didn’t need any F1 experts to tell you that Daniel was gifted, you could see it with your own eyes.
You had to remind yourself it was only practice. So much could happen in quali. Still, he bounded into the garage as though he had won the WDC. Making a beeline for you, he leaves his team who were waiting to give him their assessment in the dust.
“What did you think?” He asks you, loud voice bouncing off the walls of the pits as he practically skips over. You laugh weakly, pressing a finger to your lips in an attempt to quiet him down.
“It was amazing, you’re amazing,” you smiled, reaching up to ease the helmet from his head. You take the underside, pushing it over his face to reveal his sweaty face, damp curls sticking to his forehead. He was beaming from ear to ear, gazing at you.
“I did better because you were here,” he insists, pointing to the kiss mark on his helmet’s plastic that he had been careful not to smudge throughout his drive, “You’ll have to do that at every race!”
You couldn’t possibly come to every single race. You had your commitments at home, family, friends. But the concept of traveling with Daniel across the world, him showing you around each track and cheering him on as he progressed in his career was magical.
“Of course,” you mused, laughing as he silently thrust his fist into the air in mock victory. You shoved him in the chest, insisting he gets undressed out of his race suit and has the shower he so desperately needed.
Finally, your head hits the pillow of the bed in the hotel room that Daniel had set you up in for the weekend. After a whole day standing at the track, watching your friend drive and listening to him in briefings and media interviews, your lower back ached and the soles of your feet were screaming.
You couldn’t help but wonder how Daniel managed to do this every weekend, on top of the training and the traveling. It felt more like voluntary torture than the ‘fun’ he insisted it was.
Regardless, he had approached everything thrown at him with his signature grin, throwing joke after joke at the interviewers, making Lando laugh during press briefings. It wasn’t a job if he was having fun.
Finally, you begin to doze off, the comfort of the fresh linen bed sheets in this hotel that far surpassed your own budget easily pulling you towards sleep. It was certainly aided by the sheer amount of Italian food that Daniel had ordered as room service. After all the pasta you had consumed, you swore your veins were spaghetti.
Just as sleep threatened to take over, the edge of your consciousness you heard the rapping of knuckles against the wood of the door. You blink your eyes open, groaning weakly as you stumble to climb out of the covers. There was only one person who could possibly be bothering you at this time of night.
Sure enough, when you look through the peephole in the hotel door, there he stood. He had a colorful dress shirt on, your favorite black Gucci button-up with the rainbow double G’s. In his hand was his helmet, and he turned it in the low light of the corridor as he gazed at it.
Without delay, you open the door to him, his eyes snapping up to your face as he gives you one of those famous smiles. “I hope I’m not bothering you?”
“No, no not at all,” you lie, unable to bring yourself to tell him the truth when he was looking at you like that. You motion for him to come inside with one hand, and he walks inside hesitantly. You know he sees your messy sheets, evident of the fact he had interrupted your sleep, but he doesn’t say anything.
He stands there, in the middle of your hotel room, silent as he tilts the helmet in his hands again, pursing his lips as he considers a way to put across his reason for his late-night appearance.
There’s a tension, nervous energy radiating from him. You don’t know if you’ve done something to upset him- he certainly didn’t seem it when you first opened the door. But the way he hesitated around the words he tried to form in his mouth had you doubting.
“What is it, Daniel?” You whisper, approaching him. He clears his throat, holding the helmet out with one hand and tapping the hard outer plastic with the other.
“Your kiss mark is gone,” he finally answers, gazing at you, “I don’t know when it happened, but I must have rubbed it off by accident during the press briefing.” You stare at him, incredulous as his words seep into your brain.
He’s deadly serious, you realize, when he doesn’t burst into laughter or smirk at your surprise as he usually would when he was messing with you. No, he’s gazing at you with an entirely earnest expression, eyes silently pleading for an unspoken request.
“… It was chapstick, Daniel,” you laugh nervously, shifting your weight on your feet as you try to ease your racing heart. “It’s not like you could really see it?”
“Well, yeah but I raced really well with it,” he insists, tapping on the hard plastic again, “I want to do that well with quali and the race. Even better if you can do it with lipstick instead.”
You stare at him with an incredulous expression. Daniel Ricciardo, the most eligible bachelor in Formula 1 wanted you to put a lipstick print on his racing helmet for the entire world to see?
You could imagine it now, the fans combing through paparazzi photos and his Instagram followers in an unhinged attempt to discover who they assumed was his girlfriend. The hate comments he would receive, the media speculation. Surely he hadn’t thought this through.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you mumble, glancing at your phone that you had left on the bed. Of course, when confronted with reality, Daniel lets out a little ‘oh’ of agreement, nodding slowly. Yeah, even he wasn’t stupid enough to cause a media shitstorm in the middle of a season.
He clears his throat, rubbing at the side of his neck with his palm as he thinks it through. “… But you’d still do it in chapstick?” He asks, watching you with a hopeful expression.
You nod, cheeks burning under his gaze as you turn to the bedside table. Alongside a glass of water lay your chapstick. You move to grab it, padding silently across the floor in your bare feet while Daniel follows behind eagerly.
Taking up the little tube, you pop the plastic cap, twisting the product at the base before turning to face your friend. He watches closely as you raise the stick to your mouth, running the head against your lips. His eyes follow the movement like a hawk, barely blinking as he takes in the sight before him.
Excitement tingles down your spine at his sole focus on you, rubbing your lips together to spread the product evenly. He practically scrambles to hold the helmet out to you, almost dropping it to the floor in the process.
“Next to your driver number?” You ask with a whisper, unable to force a louder voice from your throat. He nods swiftly, eager to witness what he’d clearly been thinking about since he noticed the original prints' absence.
Taking the head guard from his palms, you twist it in the low light of the bedside lamp. You’d always loved each design he had worn, the colorful patterns always the most eye-catching on the grid to match his equally vibrant personality. Brushing the number three with your thumb, you raise the plastic to your lips and press a firm kiss to the material.
Daniel is silent as he watches you, the eyes staring deep into yours completely unreadable. When you rotate headgear towards the light to check the mark was visible, his hands rest over yours.
“… What flavor is it?” He asks you, gazing down at you as his thumb reaches to brush against your knuckle. You pause, taken aback by this sudden intimacy as you study those deep brown irises for any idea of what was happening. Stumbling to answer, you turn your head to look down at the stick still tucked between your fingers.
“Uh, green apple?” You mumble, trying to read the small lettering in the dim lighting. You hear Daniel chuckle and feel his hand take your chin, turning your face back up to look up at him.
“How ironic,” he muses, running the tip of his thumb across your jaw. Goosebumps break out in the wake of his touch despite the warmth of the humid Italian air. “May I taste it?” You know what he’s asking. It was hard to deny when his nose was practically touching yours with the close proximity.
Perhaps you shouldn’t have eaten so much room service, the nervous nausea made you feel so lightheaded. He was looking down at you with such a needy expression, begging silently with the same expression you had when you would gaze at him from across the dance floor at prom.
“Yes,” you breathe. He wastes no time, closing the distance to press a gentle kiss against your lips. The helmet is discarded on the floor, the thump of the impact with the floor drowned out by the sound of your heart drumming in your ears when Daniel takes your face in his hands, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbprints.
Rumors of a wild playboy persona melted away as Daniel kissed you with such gentleness and care. His tongue brushes against your lip, tasting the chapstick for himself and chuckling into the kiss. “It really does taste like apples,” he mumbles as you wrap your arms around his neck.
Taking your hips in his hands, Daniel pulls you impossibly closer, deepening the kiss. Your head is spinning, moaning softly as his fingertips knead your skin. You’re standing on your tiptoes, nose pressed against his as the two of you start stumbling towards the bed.
You grip the collar of his shirt and you both fall backward, squealing as your head hits the pillow. His infectious laugh has you grinning, cheeks hurting as he runs his lips, soft from the chapstick you both now shared, pressing soft kisses against your neck.
His stubble tickles the skin of your throat as you tilt your head back into the pillow to expose more of your neck to him. Meanwhile, his hands roam down your waist. “Is this okay?” He whispers, almost breathless as he checks in with you. You nod quickly, words caught in your throat as he squeezes your ass gently.
“Good,” he smirks, that mischievous glint in his eyes still evident even in the dark. “Do you realize how long I’ve waited for this?” Daniel uses his grip on you to raise your hips to his, his hard cock pressed against your core.
“Every time I saw you I just couldn’t stop thinking about how it would be to just make you feel good,” he moves those tattooed hands underneath the hem of your nightshirt, fingers splaying over your stomach and lower rib cage. They’re so big they cover the majority of your lower torso with ease.
“Dan,” you gasp weakly, needing him to do something. He groans, nodding in acknowledgment of your neediness. Finally, he pulls up the shirt, lifting it over your head and immediately leaning down to press messy kisses to your breasts. You discard the pyjama top off to the side of the bed and fill your empty hands by threading your fingers through his curls.
Your nipples peak as Daniel’s tongue brushes over them, your back arching into his ministrations. The material of your pyjama pants is so thin, you whimper as he grinds your hips against his.
“I just had to bring you here,” he insists, voice cracking slightly as you reach down to undo the button of his jeans, “I had to finally have you, to make you mine.” You take him by the jaw, pulling his face to yours and silencing him with a kiss. Desperate whines bleed from your lips as he works you out of your pyjama pants, lifting your hips to help him.
Finally, you wrap your thighs around his waist and begin to work at the buttons of his shirt. You’d love to rip the stupid material from him, but you also knew he’d murder you if you destroyed his favorite party shirt. It was at this moment you realized it’s much harder to undo buttons with shaking hands and Daniel Ricciardo’s cock pressed against your core as a distraction.
You push the shirt from his shoulders, exposing the inks that littered the skin of his chest and arms. It didn’t matter what time of day or how long you had gone without talking, Daniel would call you every time he’d been to the studio, showing off every new tattoo to you before anyone else.
“Fuck, Apples,” Daniel’s low groan pulls you from your fond memories as he presses his fingers against the damp fabric of your panties, “You’re so we’re for me.” You feel the heat in your cheeks, squeezing your eyes shut.
“That’s so hot,” he whispers, brushing his fingertips upwards in search of your clit through the material. He finds it with little difficulty and you squirm against his touch. He pulls soft whimpers from you as he circles it slowly.
He’s smirking, enjoying torturing you and watching as you throw your head back, rocking your hips to meet his touch in a desperate and futile attempt to chase the heat coiling between your thighs.
“Does that feel good?” The amusement in his voice has your eyes rolling back. He hooks his thumb underneath the waistband of your panties and pulls them down achingly slowly. “Tell me how good that feels.”
You whine, nodding dumbly as he spreads your legs. You’d normally be mortified to be so exposed, but it’s just so good that you refuse to deny yourself the ecstasy. “It feels so good, Dan please don’t sto-Dan oh god!”
Daniel had thrown your knees over his shoulders and was pressing feather-light kisses to your clit that were causing shocks of pleasure to spark up your spine. You shook your head quickly. “I ca- Daniel, oh fuck~” The desperate words melted on your lips as his tongue circled the bundle of nerves.
You swear sparks flash behind your eyelids, chest heaving as Daniel lazily eats you out. So many times you’d daydreamed but none of it amounted to exactly how it felt. His stubble was scratching against the inside of your thighs, the tip of his tongue brushing through your folds.
Your fingers grip his hair, tight enough for you to feel him moan against your cunt before you hear it. The vibrations cause you to press your thighs against his ears as the sensation rocks your spine. You’re sweating, hips rolling against his face to chase the wicked burn that was slowly building.
Something about the concept of Daniel putting aside his own pleasure to pamper and make you feel good has your thighs trembling. He licks through your folds, the sounds filthy and echoing through the room as you let out a desperate moan of delight.
“Daniel, I-I’m gonna cum-“ you choke out, toes curling as he works you towards the orgasm that was threatening to spill over. Everything inside you is coiled so tight and threatening to snap you in half-
And then his nose brushes against your clit.
It’s fucking devastating. The shriek of his name that he pulls from you urges him on, tasting you as you shatter against his tongue. You hear him mumbling praise on the edge of your consciousness, the searing heat that rolls through you blurring all your senses to anything but your pleasure.
When it begins to fade, you’re acutely aware of the pulse of your heart in your ears and the way your chest heaves. Your fingers are still gripping his hair in an attempt to anchor you to reality.
“Mhmmmm,” you hear Daniel groan, pressing soothing kisses to the inside of your thighs as he helps you cool down, “I think I just got a whole season's worth of good luck, don’t you think?”
You giggle breathlessly, looking down at him as he watches you through his dark lashes. He has that stupid fucking grin on his face, the one that tells you he’s proud of himself.
“Perhaps,” you mumble, allowing yourself to give him a taste of his own medicine as you cheekily suggest “Maybe we should do this every race weekend just to be sure.”
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warnings: SMUT 18+ !!!! , swearings, mental health theme I guess? angst and pain cause we all saw the Sochi race right? right
word count: 5k
an: pls pls pls let me know what do you think cause I feel kinda insecure about the smutty part lol... im out of training. hope you enjoy THANK U so much for the support and for over 300 followers whaaaaaaat? I don't deserve it omg
«Okay we are through, head back » Will's voice was clear and loud in the big papaya headphones. Around us it was chaotic as it always was during Quali: people constantly checking the weather, the car crew ready to welcome them back to the garage and the engineers checking the times and the sectors nonstop to prepare him before running back for Q3.
Russia had been playing an unpredictable game so far, starting from the weather that forced the Fia commission to cancel Free Practice 3 and start immediately with Qualifying.
Lando got back into the garage and he immediately got busy checking his telemetries and session data on his monitors.
He was doing so well. Putting the car into the top 3 each time. He was fighting for pole, and for what I could capture hearing from the people in the garage, he was most likely the one to get it.
The car’s engine was roaring deafeningly in the box as both Lando and Daniel were getting ready to go out again and set the best times possible.
When they headed out, everything became kinda all fuzzy. Discussions were being made about changing tyres.
Lando asked for softs. And at this request everyone gasped, holding their breath. That was a risk. A risk he was committing to take.
I clenched my fists inside my pockets while he boxed, biting my lips as soon as he disappeared in the pit lane again.
This could have been the best call he could have made. Or the worst one ever. High hopes and adrenaline kept us edgy during his whole out lap.
« I think they need two out laps» we heard him over the radio.
He still had plenty of time so Will didn’t hesitate in giving him the confirmation.
And then he started his timed lap.
First sector. Green.
Second sector. Purple.
I closed my eyes bringing my hands to my face, finding it too hard to contain my excitement.
Sainz time to beat was 1:42:410.
I was too scared to watch.
Third sector, he crossed the line. Purple. 1:41:993.
Everyone exploded into an exited rumble. Provisional pole position. I couldn’t believe it.
«Oh my god» I let out in a gasp watching him on the big tv.
Two cars left to cross the line. George Russel and Lewis Hamilton.
George ended his lap. P3.
Only Lewis was left.
And then he crossed the line as well, P4.
Lando Norris was the Polman of the Russia Grand Prix and the only thing I could say was «Holy fucking shit, what did he just do?»
The celebration went on for a while at the Sochi circuit, and after that Lando had plenty of interviews and media content to deliver. This was huge for him. The first pole position of his career. An achievement he would have always remembered. A milestone in his already promising career.
After the post-qualifying press conference, he got caught in some strategy meetings with his team of engineers before we finally headed back to the hotel. Still buzzing and shocked.
We decided to spend a few moments with the team, cheering and sharing some drinks at the hotel bar until we got the chance to walk upstairs.
«Oh my god, can I just say you out-qualified a seven-times world champion?» I giggled once we were in our room. I was still bustling, which was making him laugh every time.
The thing was, I was so damn proud I couldn’t even process it.
«Does it make me a world champion basically?» He chuckled with his usual smirk, sitting at the edge of the bed. I immediately followed his lead, placing myself in between his legs. Standing before him with a smile that could light the entire room.
«You bet your ass it does. It’s coming» I simply said. «One thing for sure, you deserve to be celebrated, no matter what» I giggled. My mind was kinda guilty of dirty intentions in that moment.
«Uh, interesting. You got something in mind?» He joked, rising an elbow. I nodded with a fake self-loathing smile as I made my way to sit on his lap.
He helped me in doing so, sliding backwards on the bed and letting me have my comfortable sit on his legs.
«Yeah, a couple of things actually»
«I’m so happy you’re here», he said, and I bit my lip smiling.
« Hey! Who else would you have celebrated with, otherwise? » I laughed gently putting my hands on his strong shoulders. I didn’t even realize how his hands were softly tracing small circles on my thighs.
« I don’t know, probably some Russian girl » he mocked me making me burst into a laugh. I playfully and gently slapped his cheek while I kept laughing. He joined the chuckle, hiding his smile in the crook of my neck.
«You are an asshole, you know that? » I smiled hugging him tightly.
He put his lips on my cheek and held me close to him as my smile grew wider.
Then another kiss, this time on my jaw; another close to my lips and then finally, he began to leave many small kisses moulded on my lips making me giggle and curl my nose while I took his face between my hands to stop him.
He stopped for a moment, looking at me with a smile that turned my stomach upside down, before clinging to my lips with more determination and not for a simple kiss.
My tongue merged with its creating in me a vortex of emotions. Some of them were simply sweet thoughts, purely innocent: the pride of seeing him on pole position, the affection and the love.
Others were instincts. Lust. Body heat. Physical touch.
I felt his delicate and callous hands trace the line of my arms, starting from the top and going down, reaching my hips and then tighten and pinch them for fun. He was teasing me, and I was already enjoying it too much.
I drew closer to him, pushing my body on his, toward his chest and rubbing on his already tight pants. His hands, out of spite, went down more and more, along my back, then even deeper, surrounding my butt.
This time I let myself go to a spasm of pleasure and taken from the moment, I slipped my hands between his soft curls, rolling them between my fingers and sometimes pulling them without causing him pain.
And even without realizing how, we end up crawling each other on the giant king-size bed, both excited and far too involved to stop.
Lando turned things around, locking me under his body and not allowing me to escape, pressing his palms on the mattress next to my arms. His lower lip was caught between his teeth and his eyes never left mine for even a second. It was a game of looks. Our game of looks. The thing was, no one would ever let the other win.
That was who we were: competitive, mischievous but at the same time romantic and sentimental. Smiling with both lips and eyes.
Without interrupting the race, his hands came down on the edge of my pyjama tank top and dragged it along my body, upwards, until it passed through my head, eventually throwing it somewhere in the room. I decided to return the favour by repeating the same action for his shirt and left him shirtless before my eyes.
I placed my warm hand, leaving his curls on his chest and began to trace the mark of the abs. They were really carved into stone because of his constant training. He had such a perfect body that sometimes he made me feel guilty for not being as athletic as him. All the hours spent with Jon, working out and pushing his body to the limits were really paying off. Every single muscle of his entire being was toned and strong, making him look like a sort of God. He was a sight for sore eyes, for sure.
Even my pants didn’t take long to get to the rest of my clothes. I watched him pull up slightly, straightening his back and resting a knee next to my side. The other one ended up between my legs.
I instantly realized his intentions. His knee began to rub against my panties making me moan with pleasure; Lando loved to play this "game", he always used it to overload me and then leave me unsatisfied just when the situation was starting to get "hot".
He lowered his head into the recess of my breasts and began to kiss my most sensitive spots, helping himself with his hands to unhook my bra as he pounced on my nipples, licking them, pulling them, sometimes biting them without causing me pain.
Lando and I knew every single weak or sensitive spot we had, especially when it came to bed stuff. After all, we had been dating for a while and sex was definitely an activity we were not preventing ourselves from doing, discovering what we liked, what we would never do again, finding it fun to try something new.
His leg stopped giving me pleasure and I realized that my panties were almost completely wet. I was slightly disappointed that he had stopped but I was already craving his touch thinking about the next step.
I knew his moves; one by one.
I felt his gentle lips descending along the curve of my breast, languidly kissing my belly and then getting stuck on the edge of my core, right under my belly button. I kept looking at him until he looked away.
His eyes were on my underwear and his hands began to caress my hips with kindness.
I left Lando’s hair and I carried my left thumb between my lips, biting it with all the force in my body. Seeing him between my legs was always too much emotion to handle.
«C’mon » I laughed a little making him giggle on my skin.
«Impatient, baby?» he asked, licking his lips, to draw circles over my clit, still covered by the fabric of my underwear. I didn’t even have time to answer because I felt my panties being shifted to the side and his mouth coming into contact with my heated folds.
I had a spasm of pleasure and I grabbed the sheet around me as a foothold. His tongue slowly caressed my most sensitive parts, giving me the chills of my spine. He had just begun and I already couldn’t take it anymore: I was a mess of moans as his tongue dragged behind a trail of kisses leaving me more wet and excited than ever while his brownish curls scattered on my groin tickled me.
I began to wheeze when his hands opened more my thighs, grasping me almost fiercely and his tongue went deeper as if to prove the impossible. I felt like I was ascending to another planet. He was making me feel so good that it was a matter of minutes for me to reach my high.
I clung to him again, this time anchoring myself to his head and pushing it more toward my body for more contact. I needed more.
His breath was cut off, his nose touched my clit and his mouth gave me pleasure by making me moan louder and louder.
Only later he decided to give me pleasure by helping himself with his hands. And, as to meet my prayers, his index finger grazed my entrance and teased it with no mercy.
Then he added the middle and I felt two fingers thrusting into my entrance, gently touching my walls while his tongue was still moving fast on my core.
My breath started to decrease and I found myself gasping for air several times while continuing to pull Lando’s curls, excited and impatient. I was almost at the climax of pleasure when he suddenly froze pulling my fingers out of my body and bringing them to the mouth in the sensual move.
He licked them smugly, under my keen and impatient gaze, I laughed licking my lower lip and sat back on the mattress making him understand that I wanted more. That foreplay wasn’t enough for me.
Lando seemed to understand what I wanted to say because in a moment he made the sulk disappear from his face and left the room with a grin. He rested on his stomach on the bed and began to crawl towards me, making me retreat to the headboard leaning against the wall of the room. Then he pulled me by my hips, slipping me on the mattress under his body and giggling at my lower lip. Our laughs burst in unison. Was there something better than laughing during sex?
It was a perennial game ours, teasing each other and laughing softly.
Then Lando suddenly became serious. His eyes continued to shine in the soft light of the room but they were no longer amused, only enchanted, in love.
His mouth bent slightly, enough to show me the accent of a smile and then his nose touched mine. I carried my hands back into his hair, his curls that seemed to be designed for me to pass my delicate fingers through.
He leaned down upon me with his elbow beside my shoulder, and his lips touched mine.
His kiss was chaste, delicate but at the same time moist and full of love, like the ones I enjoyed the most.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing him more towards my body so I could have more contact when I felt his erection pressing on my opening. He was panting against my lips, continuing to kiss them quickly and gently, and his muscles were stiffening.
Suddenly I tightened my eyes emitting a moan when I felt him thrusting in me. Lando kissed my jaw, leaving my lips empty and wet.
«Jeez, love » he mumbled in pleasure, attacking my neck with his teeth softly.
It took me a few seconds to digest his words while I adjust to the presence of his length being deep inside of me. I clenched my lips and grabbed his hair with a tighter grip, making sure I didn’t hurt him. Its tip moved inside my body, giving me nothing but pleasure.
Lando moved again driving himself in and out of me, letting out a mix of moans and groans while caressing my hips with sweetness. I saw him smile at me and then look at me from above with his bright blue diamonds in the dark, so I replied with another smile, to make him notice how good I was feeling thanks to him. Lando gave a stronger push biting his lip with insistence while I was still watching him in ecstasy.
He was such an angelic vision: with the face immersed in pleasure, the forehead facing upwards and the open mouth in search of air. Letting himself being overwhelmed with lust and leisure.
His limb moved inside my body, touching my warm, sensitive walls, and the more thrusts he pushed, the hotter it got.
I sought a foothold on his shoulders, then on his back, my fingernails crawled on his skin causing him slight red marks as his head bent down into the recess of my neck to leave instead of marks that would last for days.
His lips sucked and then let the room be filled by the echo of the snap of his kisses while I tried in every way to hold the groans blocking them in the throat, albeit in vain.
The rustle of the blankets accompanied by noises at every push, I let out a scream when his callous hands went up along my hips pinching my nipples. Lando knew I was particularly sensitive there, especially during specific moments. I decided that it was my time to take revenge, starting to rotate my hips to meet his pelvis, making him pant with pleasure.
His forehead was strewn with sweat and his hair fell before his eyes, obscuring the view of the two sapphires I had fallen in love with.
«You’re so tight, damn it » he whimpered in pleasure, then grabbed my right leg and wrapped it around his pelvis, continuing with the increasingly powerful thrusts as I realized I was closer and closer to reach my climax.
I surrendered to restrain the moans of pleasure when I felt him hitting my G-spot, making me scream his name. I could feel he was also close to his limit as he let grasped the headboard of the bed with his other hand, the one he left resting on the mattress to keep his body lifted from mine, and as he did so, he increased the pushes. Fucking me with no mercy, taking all the pleasure he could get and giving it back to me. As if we were a perfect machine, working together to bring out the most pleasure from the other.
The pleasure was skyrocketing, our mouths continued to release muffled sighs and his eyes looked at me as if he was begging me to reach the limit. My belly started burning and my walls were getting tighter and tighter against his cock which was now sliding smoothly.
«We’ll get there, baby, hang on» he whispered to my ear making me squish his biceps.
The headboard of the bed kept making a deaf noise against the wall because of Lando’s disproportionate strength and finally, I came undone screaming the boy’s name above me, feeling all my muscles stiff and relaxing a second later. Riding my orgasm with my head deep down in his curs and scratching his back.
Lando gave some more thrust before moaning my name out loud and coming inside me, gaping at me with a smile. Damn, I loved him.
He laid down beside me, throwing himself with literally no grace on the mattress and began to look at the ceiling, imitating my gesture. I immediately found my place between his arms, laying my head on his chest and finding comfort in his hug.
«I should definitely get more pole positions » he just whispered.
«Where is he?» I asked Jon while rushing into the motorhome. Lando was back from his meeting with the race stewards after completing his full media round of interviews and question about today’s disappointment. My heart is aching, seeing him on the screens getting interviewed with literal tears coming from his eyes. It was hard for me to stop mine.
I was still emotionally proven by the mix of feelings that overwhelmed us during the whole weekend. The highs: pole position, the strong hopes, the whole race leading in front, with that victory so close you could literally almost taste it.
And then, crashing down like glass on the floor, the downs: the rain, the adrenaline getting the best of rationality, the sudden fear and loss from realizing that the wrong decision was made.
No one could literally believe what was happening during lap 50. Lando losing positions in a matter of seconds after leading the whole race.
The most accurate description of visualizing your dream coming true and then, watching it all fall down in a matter of seconds because you fucked up.
Because that’s quite exactly what had just happened. Lando together with the team made the wrong call based on a situation that was continually shifting at the moment. And this cost them a victory. Lando’s first victory. After his first pole position.
The way his eyes were shining as he hopped in the papaya car after kissing me and whispering “ I’ll be back as soon as I win this race”
This could have been the perfect replica of a perfect weekend. And it turned out to be a sort of nightmare.
At least for the Lando’s side of the garage, cause Daniel’s side was pretty happy and proud of the result.
Jon hinted me the driver’s room with his head and I sighed.
I knew Lando had just received the verdict from his meeting with the race marshals about his entry in the pit lane, and I was genuinely scared to ask him whether he got the penalty or not.
It was just another cut to add to the already deep wound.
I gently knocked at his door before opening the door slightly enough to sneak my head inside. The last thing I wanted at that moment, was to overstep his personal space. Especially if he preferred to be alone after his disappointment.
«Would you mind some company?» I asked him shyly. He was sitting on the small sofa, with his head tilted back and his hands on his face. Visibly proven and gutted.
He raised his head a little, looking at me for a second. At that moment I realized he was crying, his eyes were red and swollen and he let out a gasp, quickly wiping away the tears with his hand.
«Yeah, come in» his voice cracked in the exact moment he let out those words.
I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. My lip got caught up between my lips at the sight of him in those conditions. He was miserable. Crushed.
A white envelope was creeping into the atmosphere, lying on the tiny table in front of him.
«What about the meeting? How did it go?» I dared to ask. I didn’t want to interfere and put the knife in the wound again but I felt like I had to do it anyway.
«Yeah I haven’t opened the verdict already, should be a penalty» he let out with a sigh before covering his face with his hands.
« I can open it for you if you want»
I just saw him quickly nodding, as if he didn’t care about a possible penalty. His head was still in that wrong decision. It would have been difficult to distract him from it.
Everyone probably knew already about the decision made by the FIA, he most likely didn’t know about it yet cause I still had his phone in my purse and I was pretty sure he came back straight to the motorhome after the meeting.
«Okay,» my hand ended up grabbing that envelope almost instantaneously, overwhelmed by the need to know how worse the situation was going to be.
I tried to open it with shaky hands, pulling out the incriminated paper. I took a long breath, standing in front of my deflated boyfriend, while my eyes started scanning immediately the words on the document.
I felt Lando grabbing my left hand and taking it towards his lips, as to try to find a sort of strength from me.
«The Stewards, having received a report from the Race Director, summoned and heard from the driver and team representative, have considered the following matter and determine the following…» I started reading without breathing in between the words. I felt like I was starting to sweat from reading.
«Go straight to the decision» he let out closing his eyes.
I nodded gulping a little while my eyes shifted down the lines. «Reprimand» I breathed out. I closed my eyes, almost relieved from what I had just read.
«Should I feel better? Cause I don’t» he simply said, with my hand still firmly pressed against his cheek.
I closed the envelope, putting it back on the table and finally sitting next to him.
Neither of us said anything for a couple of seconds. We just stayed in silence, trying to acknowledge and rationalize how eventful but at the same time unfortunate, the race had been.
Words were useless at that moment. They wouldn’t be any help.
«Please say something»
His voice started cracking again. At that moment I felt like I was about to cry again.
«What do you want me to say?» I whispered.
At that point, I realized it was up to me. I had to try, even a tiny bit, to cheer him up. To make him realize he was worthy and that mistake was not going to compromise his whole career. He had a bright future ahead of him and this was only a lesson to teach him to be wiser to be stronger.
I stood up from the sofa we were sitting on and I honked down, squatting in front of him. His red and swollen from crying eyes following men during the whole movement.
«Cause I don’t think it would be any help if I said that you deserved it» I kept whispering looking at him straightly in the eyes.
His lip got caught between his teeth as he looked away, avoiding my stare.
« Hey» I gently said placing my hand on his thighs, caressing them.
«It hurts» he breathed out without looking at me.
« I know»
It was easy to pity him at that moment, even if he didn’t deserve anyone’s pity.
«You can let go, Lando. You don’t have to pretend anymore.» I hissed trying to catch his eyes. He was visibly trying to hold himself together, repressing his tears but failing. As he did in every interview until that moment.
«It’s just me, babe» I added with a sigh.
He whimpered, taking his eyes to look up at the ceiling. They were already wet and red. When his glance met mine he finally let out a loud sigh, deciding to leave the pride aside and releasing that tears he had been holding for too long.
I hugged him right away, holding him close as he hid in my (his) McLaren hoodie.
No one like me, and maybe just a few others elected, knew how easy it was for Lando to get overwhelmed by his mistake and to beat himself up way too much when those happened. He was struggling with mental strength and this was just another wound that wasn’t helping his situation. It would have been hard for him to recover from this one, I was already certain of it.
He was blaming himself, self-doubting his judgment and abilities. Everything was just going so well.
He wheezed and sobbed against my chest for a while, with me gently rubbing his back to show him that I was there. I was there to absorb his pain if he needed me to.
Make it mine to make him feel a little better.
«Your time will come, baby» I started to whisper, hoping in some sort of motivation with my words.
«It may not be today, but it will come» my words were still a weak peal while I wobbled a little, cuddling him.
« And it will be so amazing, more than what you can imagine right now»
His curls were tickling my chin as I felt his hands pulling me on the sofa to hug him tighter.
«You won’t forget today» I started saying, with him tightening the grip on my body « Cause you’ll need it to grow and be a champion» my fingers started running through his messy hair, gently rubbing his neck sometimes. « Cause you are gonna be one, I know that and everyone knows that» at that point, he seemed to calm down a little and I took that chance to lift his chin with my index, meeting his swollen and reddish eyes.
« That champion is here, and today he learned to be stronger» I smiled a little « And I know it hurts. It wouldn’t be normal if it didn’t. It’s gonna be painful for a while probably. « I stared right into his blue diamonds while saying those words. My heart was in my mouth and my hands.
«But you are strong, and you will come back»
He smiled a little as I wiped away his tears with my fingers. I felt my chest getting bigger and lighter at the sight of that sign.
«Okay?» I asked gently, rubbing his chin and pressing my forehead on his. He pressed his lips on mine softly, without saying anything, and I took it as a signal of weak affirmation.
We kissed for a few seconds, trying to rub out our thoughts, focusing on ourselves only. Even tho it seemed too difficult in that moment.
Then he pulled away slowly, hinted me to stand up, took my hand and simply said: «Let’s go home»
The Belgium Grand Prix was one that was highly anticipated - not only did it mark the end of the summer break and start to the second part of the season but it also promised some quality racing with its high speed corners.
You and Daniel were sitting in your hotel room on Sunday morning, a drink of coffee in your hand and a vitamin smoothie in his, your laptop open in front of you as you made some edits to the latest version of your book. You were an author and about to finish the final edit of your new novel.
“Have you seen the weather forecast for today?” He asked, leaning onto his forearms. You looked over your laptop lid and nodded, taking off your glasses.
“I have, you better be careful. It was bad enough in qualifying yesterday - “ You paused, saving your work and closing your laptop down. “I don’t care what people say - wet races always make me nervous. They shouldn’t have sent you out in Q3, it was hard to watch.”
A silence fell between the both of you, Daniel watched with a softness in his eyes. He knew exactly how you felt and he loved how supportive you were of him. You were his biggest fan and he could not be more thankful for it - you were there for him every weekend through rain and sunshine and through good races and bad races. You knew him better than anyone.
“I will be as careful as I can -” He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “I really feel like I’m getting somewhere though - P4.” He exclaimed, a smile flashing across his handsome features. You brushed your thumb over his hand.
“It was a really good lap - especially given the weather.” You agreed.
You moved your gaze to the window - the steady sound of rain hitting the hotel window filled the room.
“It’s definitely going to be a tense one.” Daniel muttered, pushing his chair back and getting up. You followed and made your way to the door, shrugging on your coat as you went.
The rain was pouring down as though the heavens above had opened - Daniel held an umbrella above both of you, sheltering you from the downpour. Members from different teams raced around the paddock to dry shelter - the buzz of conversation could already be heard from the grandstand in front of the pitlane. You admired the dedication of the fans; it was far from just a shower and for those exposed without even the slightest of cover would be drenched to the bone even by now and the grand prix was far from starting.
You looked over to Dan, his eyes twinkling and a spring in his step told you that he was looking forward to today’s race. His eyes flickered down to meet your gaze, bumping his shoulder into yours causing you to chuckle.
It was incredible to think about all of the things you two had managed to fit into 3 (going on 4) years. You met each other on the top of Table Mountain in Cape Town, you were there plotting for your next novel and Daniel was there hiking with his friends…
You were sat on a rock, looking out to the city of Cape Town tucked away under the mountain range - you were out in South Africa on an escape from the cramped conditions of London. You had a deadline quickly approaching to come up with a plot for your next book and as of that moment you still weren’t any closer to coming up with the next bestseller. Sure, you had ideas but they were yet to set a light a fire of motivation in you.
You had zoned out, your gaze attached to a bird soaring across the landscape ahead of you when a sudden voice pulled you swiftly out.
“Whatchu’ writing about?” The man asked, his tone was bright and as you looked over at him you saw the beaming smile stretched across his features. His eyes showed a confident but kind manner, brown curls stuck to his forehead and the beginnings of a beard covered the bottom half of his face.
“If I knew, I would tell you.” You quipped back, turning to face the man in order to see him properly. He had a muscular physique, no doubt a sportsman - you had thought at the time - an explosion of colour seeping out from his shorts caught your eye as you clocked the tattoos; they weren’t the only ones either as little drawings were littered over his hands and arms.
“Nice tattoos.” You complimented, nodding over to him. If it was at all possible, his smile grew larger and he put his fist out.
“I’m Daniel, by the way, Daniel Ricciardo.”
The rest was history - an adventure packed history. One filled with enough adrenaline to last you for the rest of your existence. The introductions had also prompted your next plot idea so the following week when you had returned to London you turned it into your agent - who had immediately loved the outline you had presented.
A few hours later and the start of the Belgium grand prix was approaching but still the track was resembling more of a spa - ironically - than a safe and functional track. Dan walked in from the drivers parade and shivered - his coat having provided no cover.
Frowning, you got up and handed him a towel, “What are the conditions like?” Nerves laced your tone. Dan sat down, shrugging, “They’re what we expected them to be like but it’s really rough. If we can even see 6 feet ahead it would be a miracle.”
A miracle was something they were all desperate for and before they knew it the race had been red flagged - deemed too dangerous to race so all of the teams were in their garages coming up with ways to entertain themselves.
You had made your way out of the McLaren garage to join Daniel who was wandering up and down the pitlane looking for a way to cause havoc.
You crept up to him and grabbed his shoulders and shouted: “boo,” in his ear causing him to jump up in shock and scream. You and many witnesses were doubled over in laughter as the Australian held his hand to his chest.
“I just came to say -” You started, “That you looked like you were about to do something mischievous and I wanted in on whatever your plan was.”
Dan looked at you with complete adoration in his eyes, a lopsided grin formed on his face. At that moment, he had never loved you more. It was a strange feeling that he couldn’t quite describe - it was just one he felt warming up his entire body. One thing he had always adored about you was the way you understood him - at the beginning of the relationship he knew you had found it hard to deal with his childish, devil may care attitude. As soon as you relaxed more around him, you two became more comfortable with one another - you decided to try his way of living. Letting fate take you to your next adventure and enjoying the unpredictability of it all. From your first adrenaline seeking adventure Dan had managed to persuade you to join him in - he knew he had found his partner in crime. Most importantly, Dan had taught you a way of living that was more enjoyable, a way of living that allowed you to get more out of life and push your comfort zone right to the limit.
“I have a few ideas.” He smirked, then grabbed your hand twirling you around as though you were ballroom dancing.
“What are you doing?” You giggled, the corners of your eyes crinkled as he pulled you into his chest, guiding one of your hands to rest on his shoulder as he grasped the other in his and held them up as though you were dancing the waltz; finally placing his hand on your waist.
“I don’t suppose you would have seen it but in 2015, the American qualifying was cancelled due to rain and to pass the time I danced with my teammate. I figured I would make a tradition of it.” He explained, twirling you around again.
“Did Lando not want to dance with you?” You questioned, the corners of your lips quirked up. Daniel stopped and took a step back. For a moment you thought you had said something wrong but then a spray of water splashed up the front of your coat. Gasping, you wiped the water from your face and Daniel’s smug smile came into focus. You looked down to where he was standing and saw a gaping hole that had now filled up with water.
“You little-” You had begun, a smile betraying you entirely as it crept upon your features. You wanted to pretend to be angry but he had caught you off guard.
“I thought that you would be a nicer dance partner - but apparently not.” He retorted, biting down on his lip in an attempt to stifle his laughter at your facial expressions. You looked at him and then down at the puddle, back at Daniel and then decided what your next move would be; before you could however he had picked you up over his shoulder, spinning around happily.
“Daniel-” You protested, having to close your eyes to avoid feeling motion sick. You heard him chortle then give in as you felt your two feet touch the ground once again. You pouted at him, strands of hair now stuck to your forehead - it was a sight to behold. Daniel’s heart skipped a beat, his breath becoming shallower as he brushed the loose strands of hair from your face. He had decided at that moment that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he was ready to start the next chapter of his life with you. It would be a brand new adventure and probably the scariest yet.
“Marry me.” He mumbled, brushing his thumb over your cheek. He froze, an idea sparked, turning on his heel he fled in the direction of the McLaren garage.
Your eyebrows drew together in confusion, your heart thumping against your ribs. Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you glanced around you only to realise the whole of the pitlane and grandstand of fans had fallen silent - watching on in anticipation. Had they heard what he had said? How could they have, Daniel had muttered so quietly even you had struggled to hear the words that tumbled from his lips. Little did you know, a camera had caught every moment and you were now the sole focus as you waited for Daniel to come back.
Moments later and he was running out of the McLaren garage, something in his left hand. You squinted to get a better look, from where you were standing all you could see was a flash of blue - but as he came closer you realised what he was holding was in fact a Haribo packet.
Your hands flew to cover your mouth, you knew exactly what he was about to do. You were fighting back tears of joy as he opened the haribo packet and pulled out a gummy ring, got down on one knee and said: “Marry me. Our new adventure, just you and me. My partner in crime.”
Tears ran down your cheeks as you nodded fervently, words appearing to fail you. You flung your arms around his neck. There was an eruption of cheer from around you, as fans whistled and clapped and fellow teams called out in congratulations.
You placed a hand either side of Daniel’s face, tears shone in his eyes. To most a gummy ring would seem immature - laughable even but to you, it confirmed to you how much you loved the man standing in front of you. The gummy ring he had presented to you meant so much more than being a Haribo. It represented you both as a couple. A love that was unconditional and would never get old and yet whilst you both would age - the love you had for one another would stay youthful, unpredictable and exciting.
You were more than ready to start the next chapter of your adventure with the man you loved most.