#formula 1 one shot

[chilling-seavey]

Dreamland (ln4) - Part One

↳ A/N Big thank you to @starlightiing for taking the time to talk this out with me & mega thank you to @norrussell for being my un-official beta reader and hyping this new universe up 🤭

↳ [Very Loosely] Inspired By: 'Heat Waves' by Glass Animals

↳ Summary: As a flunking university student in dreary Bristol, Lando is sure there’s another life waiting for him elsewhere. A life that he can only dream of living with the girl with a million dollar career, verified instagram, and a stunning smile that he swears was created for him. But maybe those dreams stray no farther than his phone screen.

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 6.8k

↳ Warnings: 18+, male masturbation, he humps his bed a little (whoops), dirty talk (stemming from his imagination and his inner most desires), Lando's so incredibly down bad for a girl who doesn't know he exists

In the large university classroom, Lando tapped the end of his pencil against the edge of his calculator, his thick textbook open and his notebook page resting on top of it, blank. At the head of the large lecture hall, his professor was walking through the lecture on the overhead projector, showing step by step instructions for their task that day. As an accounting student, Lando might have at least feigned a bit of interest in the lesson on revenues and expenses but his eyes were nearly glazed over, his mind lost in thought, and his page far behind his peers. 

His mind only ever drifted to one thing when his interest wasn’t being immediately taken and that was you. You didn’t know it - in fact, you didn’t even know who Lando was - but he spent his daydreams letting his mind wander to various instances with you that he could only pray would be real some day. That day in particular, he was thinking about how sunny and warm it probably was in Monte Carlo for you compared to the late-winter rain that was pelting Bristol in that very same moment. The rain on the windows caused the professor’s voice to nearly be drowned out despite the fact that he spoke loudly to try and speak over it. Lando was too far past bored to bother trying to listen harder. 

As his classmates worked diligently around him, Lando slouched back in his chair near the back of the classroom and glanced down at his phone that was lying face up on the table beside his textbook. As if meant to be, the screen lit up with a silent Instagram notification indicating that you had just posted. 

His heart did a little leap and he glanced over casually to his professor still lecturing as he slid his phone off the table and held it in his lap to peek. Your birthdate was his passcode - two digit month and two digit date - and he tapped on Instagram from his home screen that was wallpapered with a selfie of yours (a picture he used to tell strangers whom he wouldn’t see again that you were his girlfriend…long distance of course). Your post was at the top of his feed and before his eyes even processed the image, he double tapped to like it. The little white heart appeared in the middle of the post, right over your chest, and then disappeared. 

“Mr Norris.” 

His head snapped up from his lap before he could graze your post with even a sliver of as much attention as you deserved, only to see his professor staring at him from the front of the lecture hall with a displeased expression and his arms crossed over his chest. A few students turned to look at Lando. He locked his phone and slid it shyly into his pocket. 

“Mr Norris, I certainly don’t think your current GPA is permitting you to take the risk of slacking off on your phone in my class, now is it?” 

Lando swallowed thickly as everyone was staring at him and a few of the other students chuckled to themselves at the professor’s diss. 

“No. Sorry.” Lando answered softly. 

“Manners and respect, Mr Norris.”

“No…s-sir.” Lando forced out, physically shifting in his chair at the discomfort it brought him to follow the strange order of his professor to call him sir as a form of respect. Of course, Lando would never outright admit why it made him uncomfortable. He certainly wouldn’t want to face the embarrassment of admitting how he secretly savoured that title for your lips only, how he fantasized of you calling him that and only you. Having to refer to his sixty-something male professor as such left a nasty taste in Lando’s mouth. 

Without the distraction of his phone, Lando was stuck spending the rest of the class dooling on his notebook paper to make it seem like he was working. He might have been a twenty-year-old adult but he still found himself pulling the tip of his pencil along the lined paper to form the curve of your silhouette that had been engraved in his mind since you posted that beach picture back in the summer. His bottom lip was captured between his teeth as he distracted his mind from the post he had yet to appreciate by sketching his pencil lightly to form the curve of your breasts. He erased his messy sketch before anyone could peek over his shoulder. 

The three hour class was far too excruciating even if he only had to endure half of it wondering about your post he had yet to see. It was driving him crazy in near suspense. The moment the class was dismissed, Lando rushed to put his textbook in his backpack and nearly shoved himself between the crowd of classmates taking their sweet time descending the stairs in the lecture hall towards the exit. 

The university hallway was a relief of cool air and Lando hiked his backpack higher on his one shoulder as he stopped just around the corner out of the classroom door and he pulled his phone from his pocket. He ignored his dozens of missed messages and went right back to your profile and opened your new post. 

At only the first glance his teeth were sinking into his bottom lip and he slouched his shoulder against the nearby wall with a deep exhale, eyes unblinking as he admired the pixels that made up the image of you on his screen. Additional images from a magazine photoshoot, you were wearing nothing but an oversized white button up shirt, the collar pulled open and unbuttoned near the top to show your collarbones, and your lips were painted in a glossy red. Naturally cut hair fell in a purposefully messy hair sprayed style around your shoulders and the direct stare you held to the camera with your very light makeup dusting your eyes had Lando’s chest clenching. He had to physically hold a hand to his heart for a moment as he swiped through the three similar images you posted, each with a near perfected lustful stare with your lips just slightly parted and your hands hiding your chest from the slightly see-through material of the white shirt. 

Quiet among the bustling university hallway, Lando breathed out a soft, “Jesus.”

He turned to rest back against the wall properly and he brought both hands to his phone to bring it a little closer to his face to really stare. He licked his lips habitually and then opened the comments on the post. He liked a few from your just-as-well-known friends and ignored the ones from other fans that would just make him cringe and he started to compose his own comment. 

landonorris: holy shit you’re so beautiful 🧡

When he posted his comment he scrolled back to the picture and zoomed in to take in every single part of you that he could before he was opening his messages. Lando didn’t have too many friends in university but he didn’t mind because he had a good few internet friends instead who honestly were so much better than ‘physical’ friends. They understood and accepted Lando’s little love sick crush on you and nothing felt better than that. 

alex_albon: MATE DID YOU SEE alex_albon: LANDO!!!!! alex_albon: DUDE SHES HOT alex_albon: COME GET YOUR GIRL alex_albon: LANDO alex_albon: LAN ARE YOU STILL ALIVE???

Lando could hardly hold back his grin right in the middle of the hallway as he quickly responded to his closest friend. 

landonorris: MATE IM NOT OKAY landonorris: I had to wait through my entire class until I could look properly omfg landonorris: She’s literally so fucking stunning oh my GODJHFHFJ landonorris: Minemineminemine 🤤 alex_albon: YES I KNOW OMG alex_albon: YOURS alex_albon: GO GET HER landonorris: God I wish she wasn’t so fucking far away UGJGEBHRG this is UNFAIR 😩 alex_albon: Finish your degree and then go have BABIES 🤪 landonorris: HAHAHAH MATE omfg relax!! alex_albon: Hey you said it first, I’m just being a supportive best friend

Lando swiped out of their dms only to return to your post and he couldn’t hide his smitten grin as he admired you. Alex wasn’t wrong because Lando often thought about a future with you; having babies with you, living in Monte Carlo with you, and following you around the world on your book tours. He was adamant that he was going to make that happen one way or another. He was going to have you fall in love with him just as he had with you. 

alex_albon: Wow leave me on seen okay landonorris: Sorry sorry sorry I was a little busy staring at a certain someone alex_albon: Don’t drool on your phone mateeee 😉😉

Lando had met Alex online only a year prior through his online blog he kept about you. He had wracked up a good following by posting little journal entries and sketches and a few short concepts here and there and, of course, posting your pictures like it was his day job to run an update account. Alex wasn’t as much of a fan of yours as Lando was but from the moment they first messaged, they hit it off and became close through the distant connections of the internet. With Lando in Bristol and Alex in London, they weren’t too far spread but they had yet to meet and that probably wouldn’t happen for a while since neither had the money nor means to make a trip cross-country. Their daily messages certainly made up for the distance. 

Lando had one more unread message in his Instagram dms and he left the thread with Alex to choose a song, slide in his AirPods, and tend to the next waiting friend as he started to walk back towards his dorm.

georgerussell63: Oh wow she always posts when you’re in class huh georgerussell63: Blimey she looks stunning in this post too geeeeez georgerussell63: Ugh mums calling me for supper but I’ll be back georgerussell63: Message me when you’re free!!!

George was the farthest away from Bristol in King's Lynn right on the opposite coast of the country. Just like with Alex, George and Lando met through his blog and became close quickly too. Lando was sure there were no two more supportive friends than Alex and George and their daily reassurances that someday you were going to love him back honestly was the one thing keeping Lando going. 

Lando navigated the busy university hallways with ease while he typed his excited reply to his other close internet friend, tuned out from the world by his curated playlist and wandering mind.

landonorris: Mate I KNOW I’m literally not okay pfjfjfkjng landonorris: It's like she KNOWS I’m busy omg but how can I be mad at her landonorris: LOOK at her landonorris: Like plz ruin my life???? 🤤

The rain that came down hard onto the Bristol university campus didn’t phase Lando as he tucked the hood of his sweater up over his head and hurried down the pathways back to the dormitories. He clutched his phone in the front pocket of his hoodie as if the lingering memory of your image would somehow be left behind in the downpour on his walk home. Like hell he was going to let you go that easily. 

The dry lobby of the residence building had him sighing in relief from the rain and he pulled off his hood as he fished his key card from his pocket. With a swipe to the interior doors, he was permitted into the elevator lobby and he smacked the call button a few times impatiently as he brought your Instagram back up on his phone. Safe from class and passing students, Lando let his thoughts drift to less of just she’s beautiful and more of I wish she wasn’t covering herself up. 

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Lando stepped in without a look up and pressed his floor button out of complete muscle memory, all without taking his eyes off your images. He zoomed in again as he slumped against the back wall of the elevator and his lip was captured by his teeth again as your lightly manicured hands covered your breasts from the camera but the fair material of the white button up shirt had him able to see the slightest colouration of your nipple in the second image. His finger moved the zoomed in picture so he could see more of you and his eyes greedily soaked up the way the shirt hung loose around your thighs and rose up almost to your hips with how you were professionally positioned. 

His thoughts were turning dirtier faster and he nearly hurried down the hallway to his room to have some privacy. Lando closed the suite door behind him and glanced into his roommates room only to find it empty before he was dropping his backpack to the floor just inside his own room. He had never been more thankful for his roommate to have later classes and despite the fact he was alone in their shared suite, Lando still closed his bedroom door behind him just in case. 

His room wasn’t much different than that of any other twenty-year-old college boy with a bit of mess around the corners - clothes tossed aside and stray papers littering his desk - but on the shelf of his closet he had lined up in pristine condition, your few published novels in date release order. Lando never once called himself a reader and in fact he had always hated English in school, but when he came across a promo video on social media about your recent release, he became a little intrigued. He was more intrigued by you at first and he spent one night scrolling through your verified social media feeds before he ended up adding your debut novel to his Amazon shopping cart in a sleep deprived, curious, heart-eyed rush at 3:00 in the morning. 

He would proudly admit that yours were the only books he had voluntarily read since he was a kid. 

Finally back in the comfort of his own room, Lando pulled off his rain soaked hoodie and tossed it into his laundry pile in the corner of his closet and flicked on his bedside light. The rain outside caused the sky to turn dark far too quickly for mid-afternoon, but Lando couldn’t be bothered to close his blinds before he was flopping stomach first across his double bed to spend the next however long admiring your complete existence shamelessly. 

He literally felt warm all over when he looked at you, his heart always squeezed so tightly in his chest until he could feel each thudding beat that he swore was only ever just for you. You drove him crazy and you didn’t even know it. 

Lando blindly kicked off his muddy sneakers from his feet dangling off the end of his bed with his gaze captured all on your image. Having admired your body in the elevator, he took to your face now, making sure to give every pixel its deserved share of attention. Despite it being a magazine shoot, you only wore limited makeup so the focus was all on your red painted lips but your eyes that were lined with thin eyeliner and magnifying mascara had his attention all over you regardless. He swore you were staring at him like you knew what he wanted from you, like you knew what you were doing, and he could only stare right back. 

He shifted on his bed with a small hum as the admiration of your beauty was going right to his crotch but he barely paid any mind to anything else as he focused all on your lips. Lando’s mind was whirling with so many thoughts as his gaze lingered on your glossy red lips that were parted just so and looked nothing less than fucking irresistable. 

A message popped down from the top of Lando’s screen in the middle of his admiration session.

alex_albon: What r u up to?

Lando tapped it to open their messaging thread and he typed his momentary string of thoughts without second guessing, always able to word vomit into his friends’ dms without fear of being shamed for a single word.

landonorris: I want her to suck my dick alex_albon: DAMN okay I see what you’re up to alex_albon: Just dreaming about your wife haha landonorris: No mate you don’t understand landonorris: I literally want those perfect red lips around my dick landonorris: I fucking crave it landonorris: And I want to kiss her literally all over and worship her body and grab her tits and smack her ass and I want to make her moan my name landonorris: And I want to cum all over her face while she’s looking up at me like in that pic giving me those fucking eyes alex_albon: Oh my God mate 😦 pffhjffjfj you're down bad landonorris: FUCK ME THIS ISNT FAIR alex_albon: I know!!! She’d be fucking stupid to not want you Lan alex_albon: You’re literally made for each other landonorris: PLZ I want her so bad it's not funny landonorris: She’s so fucking pretty landonorris: I want to knock her up mate alex_albon: Only if I can be the godfather landonorris: Maybe we’ll have twins so you and George can share the honour lol alex_albon: Honestly I’m down landonorris: Literally just looking at her gets me so fucking horny it will NOT be hard to make twins first try ngl alex_albon: LMAO 😏 landonorris: Haha okay it’s raining here and I just got back to my dorm so imma shower brb alex_albon: Yeah okay go enjoy that 😏 landonorris: Lol stfu landonorris: 🧡

Maybe his friends kind of knew him too well but Lando didn’t want to let on too much so he played Alex’s teasing off before closing their messages and returning to your post. He screenshotted all three images and then held himself up on his forearm with his phone in hand as his other hand slid down to unbuckle his belt. He shifted onto his side just enough to take his belt off and then pop the buttons on his black jeans before pushing them down his legs and he flailed his ankles a little to get his pants to drop to the floor with his discarded shoes. Now in only his underwear and his t-shirt, Lando rolled back onto his stomach fully with a small sigh. 

He could feel himself getting a little hard by only the thoughts rushing through his mind - and by the sight of your new pictures of course - and he kept them going as he turned back to his phone. The screenshots of your post were in his camera roll and he opened them up to crop out the instagram banners and comments so it was only you taking up his screen. He smiled at the sight of you in the dim sultry lighting of the photoshoot studio you were in and the crisp warm light that lit you up like an angel. 

The second image was his favourite of your post between the teasing little slip of your breast behind the fair shirt and the way your eyes were a bit wider, more innocent and sultry, and he could nearly see the line of your panties with how the shirt was slightly raised at the bottom. He imagined them to be as red as your lipstick and lacey and tiny…imagining that peeking up the bottom of the oversized shirt you wore would give him a greedy view of your soft hips cradling the red lace that barely covered anything. 

Lando was nearly staring at his phone like he was staring right into your eyes right beside him, nothing but adoration spread through his eyes and the blush of growing lust staining his cheeks in pink. He barely noticed how he was grinding down slightly against his bed, his body swirling in slow precise motions, dreaming for the touch of your soft hand. 

The very same hands that covered your breasts in the images you posted, resting gently against your chest to keep yourself decent - you were a modest artist after all, thank you. He just knew you’d be so soft, that you’d touch him in all the right places, tease him with the sight of your body meant just for him. He had never been with anyone before which was another thing he would have hated to admit to anyone, but he knew more than ever that he wanted to give it up to you. He wanted you to be his first for everything that he had yet to check off…he wanted you to be the first woman he ever had in his arms and ever had in his bed. He just knew you would treat him right.

That concept was only solidified by the third book of yours that he had read, engrossed in the pages, illuminated by the light beside his bed back at home, as he was privy to the filthiest, hottest, most intricately detailed sex scene he had ever read. Well, the only one he had ever read. Lando didn’t know it was even possible to publish something so risky but the knowledge that you equipped into your writing only proved his concept that you would be the best partner he could ever have. 

With a swipe from the top of his screen, he put his phone on do not disturb to prevent any notifications from popping up while he was trying to have a moment alone with you. He cradled your picture on his phone in both hands as he let the lust work for him, shamelessly grinding against his bed without breaking his gaze from your body, your face, your everything. He couldn’t nearly feel the warmth of your skin right next to him and the plush feeling of one of your thighs nudged between his legs. There was nothing he craved more than the friction of your body on his and his imagination thrived at the concept of having you underneath him, just like that in the picture with your light makeup and plush red lips, wearing his shirt. 

Lando just wished he could kiss you too, staining his lips with your lipstick and how you would leave a trail down his neck in your wake. He zoomed in on your picture some more and set his phone down on the sheets between his forearms, staring right into your captured eyes as he pulled his body back and forth against his bed and his hands wrapped around the edge of the mattress. He moaned breathily at the friction and rolled his hips into his sheets strongly, taking his bottom lip between his teeth slightly, dreaming it to be you he was grinding against. 

The ache between his legs was growing and his cheeks only flushed more as he grew harder at the simple pleasure of the sheets against his clothed cock and the image of you beneath him. With a soft exhale, Lando propped himself up a bit with one hand flat to the mattress so he was on a bit of an angle and he glanced down his body as his hips ground in strong precise curling thrusts against the bed. 

He breathed your name into his room as he looked back down at your picture, soaking in your nearly lustful gaze staring right back at him. He moaned lightly as his hips started to move faster and he was nearly humping his bed in overwhelming pleasure, fingers gripping onto the edge of the sheets. 

“Fuck, okay,” Lando huffed out as he forced himself to stop quickly, groaning at the sudden halt of that sweet friction. He slid his hands underneath him and pushed himself onto his knees, sitting back on his heels, and took a second to stare down at the bulge in his underwear. It physically ached and he just wanted you to touch it for him. He wanted you to see how hard he could get for you.

The image of you standing at the side of his bed in front of him in only that white button up and nothing else had him quickly pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the floor and then shuffling out of his underwear. Left completely naked, Lando only dreamt of you staring at him, and his eyes gravitated to that picture again just to remind himself of how fucking stunning you were to him. It would be an honour to have you. 

“Want you to suck my dick.” he whispered into the air as he faintly traced the head of his dick with his fingers, “Wanna feel that pretty mouth, baby.” 

If you created stories, he was going to create stories. The filthiest imaginative little stories of everything he wanted to do to you, for only you to (hopefully) be privy to one day. He leaned over slightly and tugged open the drawer of his nightstand and fished around for the small clear bottle he had hidden in the back. He had no experience but he figured if he were to replicate your mouth as realistically as he could, he would need to make it as wet as possible. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten himself off to the thought of you and the small bottle of lube that he kept hidden away was of no thanks to the spiciest, hottest scenes in your romance novels. He may have been a raging virgin but he was no stranger to touch. 

There had never been one time that he jerked off and didn’t think of you. It was always you. He could only imagine you crawling slowly towards him across his bed in only that white shirt and your tiny red panties as he poured a generous glob of lube into his hand before tossing the bottle haphazardly across the bed sheets. Still sitting back on his heels, Lando spread his thighs apart slightly and smeared the lube in his right hand to warm it up a bit before he was staring down at your picture in front of him and he wrapped his hand around his dick. 

Lando sunk his teeth into his bottom lip with a small groan and slid his hand up the shaft of his cock slowly, savouring the soaking wet feeling from his palm. He thought of you between his legs, draped on your stomach with his shirt riding up your back so he could see the curve of your ass in those tiny lace panties and spank you as he wanted, all while you could take his dick in your warm, wet mouth. He could imagine it so well that his eyes literally fluttered as he exhaled strongly on the downstroke of his hand, dreaming about the lube being your spit instead. He wanted it so badly he was burning for it. 

“Yeah, baby.” he breathed out, “Suck it.” 

He moved his hand in steady strokes up and down his dick as if trying to mimic what he could only imagine your mouth would feel like. The lube smeared messily in his palm, between his fingers, and dripped down the length of his cock as he worked himself slowly but he was all too addicted to the disgusting wet squelch that it filled the room with. His breathing was heavy and his light grip he kept up pulled soft moans from his chest. 

Your name fell from his lips again in a breathy whimper and he slid his hand up higher to pull little twisting strokes right around the head of his cock, his thighs physically flinching at the sensation. His head fell back with a groan and he moved his hand faster right there. 

“Yeah.” he whimpered out, naturally starting to thrust up into his own touch a little, “Yes, yes, yeah, baby, fuck-” 

But he slowed it down to make it last, choking out a soft cry as he dragged his hand down in long slow strokes to ease the rising pressure again and he lolled his head to the side as he peered down at your picture again resting up on his bed sheets. His breaths fell heavier and as his impatient desperation grew, he had to move to a better position. 

The images in his mind followed the shift as he grabbed his phone with his left hand and could almost vividly picture you climbing on top of him as he draped himself backwards against his pillows. He craved to touch every inch of your skin for real but his imagination did him temporary justice as he pictured you unbuttoning his shirt to drape it open and give him a greedy view of your bare breasts and beautiful body. Lando bit his bottom lip again as he gave himself a few more lingering seconds of soaking up every inch of your picture in his phone before he was making a fist and lowering it down onto the tip of his dick so he could imagine what it would feel like to truly slip inside your cunt. 

“Oh, God, baby.” Lando whimpered at the tight squeeze of his lubed up hand, not tearing his eyes away from your image for even a second, “Shit, you feel so good.” 

But if he shut his eyes, it almost felt so real; like you were truly there in his dorm room and bouncing on his dick. The image was so vivid in his mind to the point that he could see the bounce of your breasts and the mess of your hair and the smudge of your fair makeup, your tiny lace panties simply pushed to the side. The sound of his hand on himself was easily enough replicated and he sped it up a little more with a lingering groan, his head tossed back against his pillow. 

Lando’s breathy praise was spoken to no one, “Good girl. Fuck- good girl, baby, just like that.”

He took one last look at your picture on his phone before he had to drop it to reach out and grab his thigh with a strangled whimper. He knew your face better than anything so resorting to just his imagination wasn’t a difficult task and he did so gladly. Being alone, there wasn’t too much of a need to be quiet but Lando tended to anyway, only letting out the smallest little whimpers and moans between his shallow breaths as the pleasure drew through his veins. 

The craving for you was so intense Lando felt almost dizzy and he fabricated you taking his whole cock deep inside you over, and over, and over, faster and faster. He choked out a little moan as his hand sped up and his head tossed back sharply against the pillows as his nails raked up his thigh in overwhelm. 

“Fuuuck-” 

Lando’s hand flew to his hair and he grabbed a tight handful as his hips started bucking up into his hand slightly, his moans only getting louder and he could nearly hear yours too, he swore. He just wished he could get his hands on you to grab your hips and fuck up into you or to grab your breasts and watched your face fall into pleasure. He dreamt of what your pussy felt like when you would cum around him, definitely knowing that his hand would never compare no matter how hard he tried to attempt to replicate it. 

“Oh God.” he squeaked out, his voice tightening in strain as he grew closer. His jaw clenched as he raised his head up to watch his lubed up hand get faster as the tip of his aching cock leaked for orgasm, groaning through his teeth, “Yes, baby, don’t fuckin’ stop.” 

Lando’s brain was flooded with your face, your body, every single one of his favourite pictures of you making up this never ending flow of stunning brilliance that he wanted to absolutely take advantage of in the best way. If you were anything like your writing, you knew how to fuck and Lando wanted all of it. Most importantly, he wanted you. 

Faint sweat was forming at his hairline as he fucked up into his hand that was feverishly stroking his cock, his chest rising and falling in anticipation as he gripped the back of his hair and spread his legs a little wider. His moans were getting more pathetic, more desperate, more pleading and he couldn’t stop picturing you on top of him. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” he squeaked out quickly, “Lemmy cum inside you. Please, let me cum inside you.”

He fell silent for a second, only rasping out a ‘yes’ and your name, and his hand worked him right into orgasm. His mouth fell open and his head dropped back against the pillows as a little dribble of white spurted gently from his tip and fell onto his hand followed by a second. He stroked himself slower, really pulling and twisting to get more out as his hips ground up and a good shot streaked right up his faint abs. 

“Yes.” he breathed through his teeth, slowing right down, and his breath froze in his chest for a second as more leaked from his tip and he could feel his cock physically pulsing in his hand. Lando bit down on his bottom lip as he moaned out of his orgasm. “Mm, fuck.” 

He took a second to steady his breathing a little - and to imagine you falling onto the bed beside him and swallowing him up in pleasurable blissed out tired kisses - and then he reached over to his night stand to grab a tissue from the box. He wiped off his hand and then grabbed another to clean up the few streaks across his stomach and the tip of his dick before throwing them into the small garbage bin beside his bed. With a little pleased smile and a soft sigh, Lando rolled over to grab his underwear from the ground and pulled them on as he got off his bed. 

When he glanced back over his shoulder at the wrinkled sheets, he could only see your picture still on his phone as the true shape of your body laying there watching him get up, your cheeks flushed and hair a mess and shirt left unbuttoned to expose your chest to him. And you’d smile at him so adoringly that it honestly made his heart flutter and he wished he could really see you leaking with his cum right onto his duvet. 

In his underwear, Lando slipped out of his room into the silent suite that was still missing his roommate and helped himself to the bathroom sink to wash his hands. He took one last look in the mirror, brushing his hand over his once styled hair, and then returned to his room and closed the door behind him. 

Lando smiled at your picture that was still on his phone screen when he returned and he sat back down on his bed and slouched back against the headboard as he closed the photos app and removed do not disturb from settings. Instagram popped up with two notifications and Lando’s guess was correct that it was his two friends waiting for him. Since he hadn’t been able to properly talk to George yet since he was eating, he opened his messages first. 

georgerussell63: I’m back! georgerussell63: She just left you a little treat for after class lmao georgerussell63: I’m surprised I didn’t come back to spicy messages from you georgerussell63: Who are you and what have you done with Lando? georgerussell63: Haha

Then, a few minutes later, his friend’s casual banter shifted into the kind of messages Lando dreaded to read. 

georgerussell63: Mate, wait did you see? :/ georgerussell63: Wait probably not because I know you have him blocked georgerussell63: Do you want to know? georgerussell63: Idk where you are but I’ll just tell you anyway georgerussell63: It’s HIS shirt that she’s wearing :/ georgerussell63: Hello??

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment and he shifted in place at the sudden feeling of a sharp blade piercing his chest ached his heart. He rubbed his hand over his chest and then worded a simple response.

landonorris: What the fuck

He swiped out of his conversation with George and opened Alex’s to see similar messages waiting for him. 

alex_albon: Oh my God mate alex_albon: Ok warning now, you’re not going to like this alex_albon: She reposted HIS story on hers alex_albon: He was at the photoshoot and it’s his shirt she’s wearing in the post alex_albon: I’m literally so angry for you alex_albon: Lando? alex_albon: Hope you didn’t drown

Lando didn’t know what to say other than a repeat of,

landonorris: What the fuck

It had been a few months since you had publicly announced that you were dating some random influencer guy that Lando had barely heard about. Another thing he’d never admit? That he cried four times that day over it. It was a part of you that he should have been supportive of knowing that if you were happy then he should be happy, but it honestly just made him feel like trash, like some irrelevant stupid fanboy, and completely hopeless in love. In fact, to put it truthfully, Lando loathed the sight of your boyfriend. He loathed the sound of his name. He never would dream to hate another human being but your boyfriend pushed him pretty damn close to that. 

Lando just knew you could do so much better. 

You could do so much better with him. 

georgerussell63: I’m so sorry mate alex_albon: I’m so sorry buddy alex_albon: I will literally fight this man for you

Lando suddenly felt so dirty but not in the way that he had planned as the concept of having been staring at you in his shirt and jerking off to you in his shirt suddenly made him want to throw up. Cheeks pink with anger, Lando did the only thing he could honestly do in that moment: rant to his best friends in their group chat. 

landonorris: You’ve got to be fucking kidding me landonorris: Why is he literally everywhere landonorris: Why is he all over her all the fucking time??? landonorris: Does he not have a job??? landonorris: Can I not have one nice thing?? landonorris: These were her best pictures yet and he fucking ruined them landonorris: Why is she wearing his shirt in a photoshoot? landonorris: WHY WAS HE EVEN THERE?? georgerussell63: This is so fucked alex_albon: I’m literally pissed off too alex_albon: I couldn’t even tell you what this man's job is georgerussell63: Don’t worry Lan you’re gonna get to her some day and she’s going to fall all over you 🤍 georgerussell63: You’re literally perfect for each other she just doesn’t know you yet alex_albon: But she will!! georgerussell63: Hell yeah she will alex_albon: He may be someone she’s in love with now but you’re gonna be the one she’s in love with forever georgerussell63: Oof Albono spitting facts 🔥 landonorris: Like what does he have that’s so great landonorris: He’s brunette?? landonorris: Oh wow nice georgerussell63: Is now the time to mention that so are you? landonorris: Whatever mate I’m desperate landonorris: It fucking hurts and I hate that it hurts georgerussell63: It’s gonna make you stronger georgerussell63: Like Kelly Clarkson said lol alex_albon: You’re gonna be so strong it’ll be like WWE level gains up in here 💪🏼💪🏼 georgerussell63: She’s gonna be all over those guns mate georgerussell63: Unbelievably sexy 🥵 landonorris: Omfg guys 😂😂 alex_albon: Ripping through shirts kind of strong georgerussell63: Absolutely demolishing weak boyfriends kind of strong landonorris: Might go to shake his hand like a gentleman and -oops sorry didn’t mean to break your arm mate georgerussell63: PFFFF LMFAO alex_albon: HAHA dkm omggg georgerussell63: 1000% alex_albon: Plus you can race and what kind of girl doesn’t literally swoon over a guy that can race fast cars landonorris: Bro barely landonorris: Talking about not even getting past F4 is not the way to impress a girl georgerussell63: Fuck F4 mate alex_albon: What do they know about talent georgerussell63: Yeah and you’ve got serious skill georgerussell63: Fly to Monaco and drive circles around that woman alex_albon: And bring us too!! georgerussell63: That’s a given

Lando smiled lightly to himself and slid farther down on his bed as his friends eased his conscious like it was their day jobs. His heart beat for you, that was undeniable, and there was a second of any day that went by where he wasn’t thinking about how to get to you. 

landonorris: Next book tour idc I’m lining up at 4am to meet her landonorris: I bet she smells so good alex_albon: Siiiimp georgerussell63: Just please don’t say that to her face

PART TWO

Tag list: @brettlorenzi3

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x oc #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fanfic #f1 au #formula 1 au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #ln4 #lando norris au #2019 rookies #2019 rookies fanfic

[vettelsvee]

EACH OTHER BEST KEPT SECRET | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

sebastian vettel x carlos gf!reader

summary: seb's is feeling like shit and the only thing that will make him feel better is having a one night stand with carlos sainz's girlfriend

word count: 4328

warnings: cheating, y/n is carlos sainz's gf and seb is married to hanna (pls do not cheat to your partners!). smut (oral, both female and male receiving; fingering, p in v). curse words. slight degradation. narrated on seb's pov. use of y/n y/l/n.

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback as well as comment and reblogs are truly appreciated! <3

Mick was by my side with a drink in his hand. He was constantly smiling despite getting a worse result, which only made me feel worse. I had dragged myself here so as not to look bad, and all I felt was that I was letting him down and had become more of a burden to him.

How could I enjoy this crappy party when all I wanted was this season to end when it just started?

"Do you really think bringing me here would help me?" I asked him as I waited for the seventh drink I thought I had taken. "I'm not in the mood, and I'm too old for this."

"I know you're not feeling well, Seb, but you need to disconnect a bit. Trust me, you will feel better.”

I reluctantly agreed.

I tried to smile at everyone who greeted or simply looked at me. I even tried to mingle among the bodies swaying back and forth, as drunk as I was, but it was impossible.

I was disappointed with myself. From being a threat on the track to seeming like a rookie.

"You don't look like a rookie, Seb. At least, not like me."

The voice of the recent Haas addition snapped me out of my thoughts. Had I said that out loud?

"Remember why you started all this, Seb," the boy continued. "The passion you have is still there. What's different are the results you're getting."

"Did I speak out loud?"

"This is the definitive sign for me to realize you’ve had enough alcohol today,” he pointed at my glass, filled to the brim with gin and tonic. "That's the last drink you're having. I don't want to drag you to your room. What would Hanna say if she saw you like this?"

She'd probably want me to have a good time, for sure.

"That I should stop drinking, or what?" I replied to Schumacher.

"Exactly. Don't let the pressure collapse you, Seb. You don't deserve that."

After talking a bit more about the disastrous first race of the year that we both had, Mick dragged me to the center of the dance floor. I refused several times at first, insisting that I wasn't one to let loose in front of others, but the boy was so enthusiastic, and I was so wasted, that I decided to go along with him and the atmosphere.

I moved not as timidly as I expected to the rhythm of the music, setting aside my worries and, above all, starting to care less and less about what would happen from now on with every drop of alcohol I ingested.

I noticed how suddenly Mick stopped. His gaze was fixed on a girl who passed next to us and who, undoubtedly, looked quite attractive, at least that's what the blond's looks confirmed. I also stopped my body's dance and turned to her, but it was quite difficult to recognize who she was among the crowd. Her dark green sequined dress and her raven hair, falling in waves over her back, were, at that moment, the only things that seemed to stand out from her in the dimness of the nightclub.

Who the hell was the girl who seemed to have caught my eye?

"Seb, are you coming?"

Mick's shouts over the music briefly made my eyes divert to him, then quickly return my attention to the stranger. She was now moving quite sensually with who knows who, somehow making me, Sebastian Vettel, married and a father, start to get excited.

"You go ahead, Mick. I'd rather stay here for a while."

My answer, barely audible, was a complete lie.

Of course, I wanted to go with him. What I didn't want was to once again succumb to temptation as I did with Astrid a few years ago.

"Wait, Mick!" I shouted, approaching the boy enough to grab him by the bottom of his shirt and pull him back to me. "Who is she?"

"Don't you know her? Seriously?"

I denied it too many times for him not to understand.

Did he really think that if I knew who she was, I would be asking him?

Mick, with a mischievous smile, finally understood that I was more confused than I would like.

"It's Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. An influencer. She makes TikTok videos and all that stuff," the blond whispered in my ear. "She's also Carlos's girlfriend, in case you're interested to know."

I tried to remember, but the drunkenness prevented me from recalling any kind of connection or image of that girl. Y/N Y/L/N, Carlos's girlfriend... Sainz? Of course, it had to be Sainz, there was no other Carlos on the grid... that I knew of.

"Oh, yeah, of course," I lied. The last thing I wanted was to admit that right now I didn't remember anything about that girl. "Carlos Sainz dad or son?" I added, then laughed.

Mick looked at me, raising an eyebrow. Clearly, my last comment didn't amuse him.

"You seriously don't remember her?"

"Well, I talk to too many people throughout the day, and I have more important things on my mind than that girl whose dress gives her a perfect ass, you know?" I tried to excuse myself.

"If you don't know her, as you say... Why don't you go and say hello? It never hurts to socialize, and maybe it'll help you forget all the birds you have flying around in your head," the boy insisted, ignoring my previous comments.

I felt a mix of shyness and concern invading me. If I approached the supposed girlfriend of Sainz, not only was I letting down my wife, but also a colleague. I didn't know who could be around here or what might happen if we were seen talking.

I was sure that if I approached her, there were two options: either I made her uncomfortable, or everything was misinterpreted, and we both got into trouble unintentionally.

"I don't want to overwhelm her, Mick," I replied. Right now, I couldn't think of coherent excuses, but any seemed good to me. "What would I say? 'Hello, Sebastian, how are you?' Come on Mick, we're not kids anymore."

Mick crossed his arms. His eyes revealed amusement, and there was no doubt he was enjoying this.

"Seb, you're at a party. Talking is what you do at a party, not talking about cars all the time, that's what briefings are for."

"But..."

"Stop being silly. Go and say hello. You'll see she doesn't bite."

I loved Mick Schumacher like a son and like a little brother, but moments like this were when we seemed like teenage brothers fighting over control of a video game.

"Fine, I'll go say hello," I finally relented.

"You won't regret it, you'll see."

I was sure I would regret it.

I was drunk, and I could barely remember my own name.

I wasn't sober, and I knew I was about to make another mistake, one I didn't know if I would regret as soon as I woke up.

I was Sebastian Vettel, and, of course, adrenaline and the forbidden attracted me.

I had done it once before, and everything had stayed between Astrid and me, so... why not do it again for a second time, and let everything stay between Y/N and me?

"This place is too packed."

Y/N turned around, our chests almost touching. I immediately lowered my gaze, and it was difficult for me to look away from her cleavage, quite revealing.

"I hope it is not full of idiots like you, Vettel. My face is up here, not between my tits."

Shit.

"Sorry," I said, rushing. Did I really have to screw it up now?

"Do you need something, Vettel?"

"Do you want to go out for some fresh air?" I asked without even thinking. "The music is too loud, so it's going to be hard for me to hear you."

Y/N seemed to consider it for a moment. Her expression betrayed indecision and, at the same time, I would dare say curiosity. After a brief silence that felt like an eternity, and where I was praying that she saw me with the same eyes as I saw her, she agreed.

We walked outside, she in front of me and me acting as if I were doing something completely normal. I sat on some steps far enough away so no one could see us; to my surprise, she sat next to me closer than I expected.

"Well, Vettel, what's the reason for wanting to talk to me so badly?" the young woman demanded to know.

I'd like to tell her that I'd like to fuck her tonight, but that wouldn't be very polite of me.

"Well... I don't know. I saw you and I said, 'Oh, it's Y/N, Carlos's girlfriend,'" I emphasized the last part to see if she reacted. There was no reaction on her part, so I counted it as a win. "I wanted to say hi."

"Did your nerves also wanted to say hi?"

I said nothing.

"From the little we've talked you seem like a nice guy, Sebastian," she continued speaking, calling me by my name for the first time. "But today it seems like you're especially quite interested in talking to me. Do you have something else to tell me, or is it just a feeling I have right now because I've been drinking?"

"Maybe."

I tried to keep my composure, but her getting even closer to me, and starting to caress me in a way that sent shivers down my spine, and leaving her hand on my thigh, too close to my member, made all the hair on my body stand on end.

She smiled, and then I knew I had achieved my goal.

"Why don't we go somewhere more private, Seb?" she whispered in my ear. Her index finger traced my arm, while her right hand began to undo a few buttons on my shirt. "It would be great if we continued this conversation without any chance of being interrupted."

"Do you think you're going to talk a lot tonight? The only thing coming out of your mouth is going to be you moaning my name, Y/N."

"Are you sure you're going to get what you might want, Mr. Vettel?"

God. I didn't expect her to play along, but now I was sure I was going to need more of that.

"Sure, as long as Carlos doesn't find out," I said, deep down, with concern.

"Well then, let's get out of here then, as long as Hanna doesn't find out..."

She nodded with a playful smile, and immediately, I forced myself to get up and find a taxi.

Of the thousands that seemed to be around, I decided to stop the only one that was moving towards us. When it stopped in front of us, I opened one of the back doors for Y/N and settled in next to her, putting on my sunglasses to avoid being recognized.

"To the Grove Hotel, please."

No need to say anything else because, in an instant, the driver set off.

As the vehicle moved through the night streets of Bahrain, Y/N and I seemed to become one. Her hands grabbed the collar of my shirt and she pressed her lips against mine. Even knowing that we were taking a risk, I decided to undo her seatbelt to position her on top of me, where I had much greater access to her entire body. The kisses became faster, more aggressive, and I felt my erection growing at a dizzying speed.

"Is your friend happy to see me, Sebastian?" the girl asked, rubbing herself slowly and torturously against my bulge.

"You'll see him as soon as we get to my room."

I couldn't say much more because my hands acted for me, grabbing her neck and starting to bite it, sucking, and surely leaving a few marks that I didn't give a shit if they showed. Her moans grew louder and louder, begging me for more.

We were lucky that our journey had ended because I was more than convinced that if we had continued like that, I would have fucked her right there.

We got out quickly, trying to act as if nothing had happened, but once we were in the elevator we acted the same way again. Torturing each other seemed to have become the main game of the night, caring less and less about being discovered. The forbidden seemed to excite us more, and I didn't blame the Spanish woman: after all, it was me who had started everything.

When we reached the door of my room I forced myself to stop kissing her. Y/N, however, stood behind me on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around my neck. I turned around and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me and searching her eyes to see if she wanted the same thing I did at that moment.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked in a soft, husky voice.

She nodded, and with a movement that seemed memorized, I swiped the card through the reader, opened the door, and forced her to step inside.

Once I made sure I had locked the door, I knew everything was done.

She wearing only her black lace underwear, threw herself into my arms to continue what she had been doing on our way here. I lifted her astride me, her legs around my waist, and leaned her back against the wall, continuing to kiss her fiercely while she finished unbuttoning my shirt, throwing it somewhere as soon as she finished her task.

"Y/N..."

"You're horny, aren't you, Sebastian?"

"If you know I am why the fuck do you ask?"

My reluctant comment made the young woman hit my ches. I knew she wanted to go down, so I let her down and, as soon as her feet touched the carpeted surface, she got on her knees and started to unfasten my belt, then the button of my pants before pulling them down.

She left a trail of kisses on the lower part of my stomach and on the beginning of my groin, playing at the same time with the elastic of my boxers and my member.

"Let's see what we have here..."

She pulled down my underwear in one swift motion, leaving my cock, fully erect, exposed.

Her right hand wrapped around it in an instant, moving it up and down too slowly for my liking. I began to sigh, but I refused to beg her to speed up, hoping she would realize it herself. Soon enough, her tongue started to lick my tip, and pre-cum appeared as if out of nowhere; before I knew it, she was sucking on it like a child with a lollipop.

"You look so good like this, Y/N. I know that having another man's cock in your mouth, not your boyfriend's, turns you on more than you might want to admit. You must be fucking wet..."

I couldn't say anything else, but my moans seemed to say it all. My hands were on her head, indirectly urging her to go faster because I was getting closer and closer to what I hoped would be the first orgasm of the night. She listened to me: at least that's what she seemed to understand when a much greater sense of pleasure invaded me as her tongue began to make circular movements on my glans while she continued to suck without stopping and masturbate the part that wouldn't fit.

I came in her mouth without warning, and she swallowed everything without a word, moving her tongue over her lips to finish taking the remnants.

She got up and the only thing I could do, almost powerless, was throw her onto the bed and position myself on top of her to undress her and finally make her mine.

After unhooking her bra and being just about to start taking care of her lower part, my cell phone began to ring.

"Damn it..."

"Pick it up, daddy," she demanded. "We don't want anyone to find out about our secret, do we?"

Having her beneath me, teasing me as if she were an innocent schoolgirl, when all she was doing was provoking me even more, got me even hornier.

I picked up the phone and saw who the call was from.

Hanna.

"It's my wife," was all I could say. The annoying ringtone kept on, but I didn't dare to answer the call.

"Why aren't you answering?" 

"I'm with you, darling. Let it wait."

"What if we do something better?"

The girl sat up a bit on the bed and moved to the edge of it. The call seemed to be continuing, and my unease grew. Did Hanna imagine what I was doing right now, like this, with Y/N? Did she even consider the possibility that I might be unfaithful?

"Sebastian," the girl spoke again, "eat me while you talk to your wife."

"What?"

"Don't you want to play?" she asked. Again, that playful tone that turned me on so much came from her lips. "Well, let's play, but let’s do it my way."

I hated being challenged, and it seemed she knew it perfectly well.

Great. Did she want to play? Well, she was going to get it.

I got on my knees, still holding the phone in my hand. Hanna had already hung up, but that didn't mean I couldn't do things properly.

I selected her contact and put the call on speaker, leaving the device on the bed. I grabbed Y/N by her thighs and dragged her a bit further onto the surface, aligning her pussy perfectly with my face.

I yanked her panties off and the girl let out a surprised scream that coincided with my wife answering the call.

"Seb, are you okay? Is something wrong?"

And indeed, something was wrong, but Hanna Vettel wasn't aware of it, nor could she be.

"Yes, yes..." I replied as calmly as I could while I began to play with a finger between the girl's folds, spreading her wetness all over her pussy to lubricate her well. "It's just that I had to come to the bathroom because it was too noisy, and,you know how people are... having sex in stalls where barely one person fits."

Taking advantage of the fact that now it was my wife's turn to talk, I began to entertain myself with the girl's clitoris, who was ending her moans by putting a hand over her mouth.

"Do you remember when we used to do it?" my wife exclaimed excitedly. "We should do it again next time I come to see you."

"Damn it, Seb!"

"Honey, did I hear someone say your name, or am I just imagining things? Please tell me I'm not going crazy."

Shit. Sticking two fingers inside Y/N without warning hadn't been a good idea.

"No, no, no! There's another guy here named Sebastian. He met a girl named... Y/N, and look, now he must be doing something good to her for the girl to have screamed," I lied the best I could.

"And you're doing it really well," Y/N whispered so that only I could hear. "No wonder Hanna wants to do it with you in some disco bathroom. Who wouldn't fuck you anywhere?"

I took the opportunity to spread her legs even further and sliding my tongue, flat, over her entrance, moving up slowly enough to make her desperate, all the way up to her clitoris. Her hand was on my hair, gripping it tightly so that I wouldn't stop; I quickly moved it away and nodded towards the phone, where Hanna was still on the line.

"When are you coming back, Seb?" my wife spoke again. "The girls are asking more and more about you, and I don't know what else to tell them to make them stop."

"Well..."

Shit. Y/N had to stop arching her back, tilting her head back, and massaging her right breast because all that did was let me know that she was about to come, and for now, I didn't want her to reach that point.

My goal at that moment was twofold: to prevent Hanna, my wife, from discovering what I was doing, and to prevent Y/N, who seemed to be my new lover, from coming, no matter that three of my fingers were entering and exiting her at the same time as the tip of my tongue moved quickly over her clitoris.

"Seb? Can you hear me? Do you have coverage?"

"Yes, yes!" I hoped I didn't have coverage. "Although it's getting worse every time I think.”

The Spanish girl was close, I could feel it in the contractions of her entrance around my fingers. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and pulled her even closer to me, if that was even possible. I placed my right hand on the lower part of her stomach, forcing her to stay still.

"Hey, Hanna, I'm going to hang up because I think my phone is running out of battery," I lied again. Now, my only goal was to eagerly lick my new girl, not to talk to the woman I had been sharing my life with for years. "How about we talk tomorrow? I'll call you before I'm at the airport."

"Sure, Seb. Take care and don't do anything crazy, okay? And take care of Mick too, I don't want him doing anything crazy either."

I didn't give her time to say anything else because I pressed the red button at the same time as I withdrew from Y/N.

"You're a son of a bitch, Sebastian Vettel," was all the young woman said. I knew she wanted to kill me at that moment for leaving her on the edge of ecstasy.

"You know as well as I do that you'll thank me soon when I make you mine. The next time you fuck Carlos you regret it’s not me making you feel wanting to be fucked like the slut you are."

I put on the condom as quickly as I could and forced her legs to wrap around my waist.

I entered her abruptly, and now I was convinced that her scream had gone beyond the four walls surrounding us.

"Oh God, Sebastian. Don't stop, please."

"I hadn't planned on it, angel," I replied as best I could. Pleasure had invaded me too quickly, and I was quite surprised.

Why was the forbidden so tempting?

Her back arched again as my thrusts increased in both speed and depth. Her legs seemed to give way because I knew it would be difficult for her to hold out without coming after having been so close before; I kept them on my waist with one of my hands, while the other began to rub her most sensitive spot relentlessly.

"Look at me."

My voice sounded too demanding, but I didn't care.

"Look at me right now, angel," I repeated after seeing that she hadn't listened to me.

I felt her walls surrounding my penis as if her insides were on fire. Her gaze tortured me; her teeth biting her lower lip made me want to put her in a thousand more positions, to keep going with her until we both died of pleasure.

My hips increased in speed when I felt the nervousness in the lower part of my stomach. Then, I forced her to lie down more to start kissing her neck desperately, licking and sucking her nipples, making her sighs increase and forcing me to forget all worries.

Was it the same person who just a few hours ago was crawling around the corners because she had stopped being who she was a few years ago?

If having sex with Y/N would make me forget everything, I was more than condemned to madness because that was what I intended to keep doing if she allowed me.

"Seb..." the girl gasped. I felt her nails digging into my back. The pain that on another occasion would have seemed unbearable was now giving me pleasure.

I was desperate to come. I felt like I was about to explode, but I controlled myself because I didn't want the night to end so soon.

My hands went from holding her lower extremities to massaging her breasts, so big they didn't fit in my hands. I forced myself to stop giving her hickeys on her neck to lift myself up a little and enjoy the sight in front of me. My cock entered and exited Y/N constantly, more regularly even though I couldn't take it anymore; her breasts moving so irregularly because self-control was impossible, and her hand massaging her clit forcefully to come once and for all was an absolute damnation.

"Sebastian!"

I watched her squint her eyes after her shout because she wanted to see herself reach what we both had longed for that night. I followed her with a guttural sound and my semen filling the condom as my hands gripped her hips for as long as I was coming.

I stayed inside her long enough to realize that it had been real.

Meanwhile, silence had taken over. The only thing that could be heard was our breaths, agitated and synchronized with the rhythm of our chests.

I ran two of my fingers over her entrance before lying down, and without me telling her anything, she took them in her mouth, savoring herself. She did the same when she kissed me again, now lying on top of me.

"I want to keep going like this, Sebastian," she whispered, kissing me again in between. "But neither Carlos nor Hanna can find out."

"That's fine with me, angel. From now on, we're both each other's best kept secret."

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel #sv5 #f1 #formula one #sebastian vettel x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #vettel #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x yn #formula one x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x you #formula 1 one shot #formula one x y/n #formula 1 x yn #formula one one shot #sebastian vettel one shot #sebastian vettel imagine #cheating #Carlos Sainz x reader #Sebastian Vettel smut #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 x you #smut

[5sospenguinqueen]

Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.

Apologies but this is a female reader.

Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.

There is no timeline for this. Make it up.

Main Masterlist.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.

"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."

"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.

Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"

She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.

Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.

"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"

"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.

"Who?!"

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.

"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."

She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"

"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

The interview went viral.

YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)

→ LandoNorris no.

User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face

User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?

User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.

→ Your User Name 👀👀

User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.

User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.

User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.

OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.

YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.

YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.

PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...

→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.

User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.

User 8 coming for his teammate

User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull

User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms

YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back

→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium

Max33Verstappen not my babies?!

→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.

→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself

→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next

→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*

User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.

User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.

User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?

User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster

→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next

User we found the snitch

User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?

LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond

Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.

redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.

→ YourUserName crap.

User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?

→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.

→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed

→ lilymhe can confirm.

#formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 smau #f1 smau #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #social media au imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 headcanon #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 headcanon #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #the grid #max verstappen #max verstappen smau #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #george russell imagine #george russell smau #george russell x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smau

[goldsbitch]

You texted...

Y/N and Lando are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Not really on speaking terms. This bad streak ends when there is a massive spider in her bathroom.

angst, one shot

The moment she spotted that creature sent from hell, everything else went out of the window. The dinner in the oven, the fact she was planning on doing a late night session in the gym, the fact her hair was still wet from the shower. The fact she and her boyfriend Lando were on "not speaking" terms.

Y/N was absolutely terrified of spiders her whole life and was never able to over come the fear by getting rid of them on her own. Lando was the one who always ever so kindly rescued her, he overtook this role her neighbor, who overtook it from her mom, who Y/N had trained to react immediately when she heard a very specific scream.

Now she was standing in her apartment, alone with nowhere to go, since her job was to stay frozen at one spot and stare at the creature, in case it moved, and not really sure who to call for help. Her best friend was the first option. Normally, it would have been her boyfriend, but something was stopping her from doing that.

"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she dialed her best friend living close by. "Pick up, dammit."

Finally, the tone she was praying for. "Hey, girl, what's up?"

No time for chit chat. "You have to come over now, immediately."

Her friend noticed the immediate distress and tuned herself in. "What's wrong?" she replied, sounding as she was ready to dial the police.

"There's a spider situation going on in my apartment."

"Uhm, I see," she said, more relaxed now, but still taking it seriously.

"It's huge, with like hairy legs and shit. You have to come over, now. We have a deal, remember?"

Her friend was equally terrified of mosquitoes, so they agreed that Y/N would deal with those while spider duty fell on the other lady. This has happened many many times before. Usually ended up with a nice girls evening. Ever since Lando appeared in Y/N life however, the emergency calls stopped.

"I thought Lando was around this week?" her friend asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying to get out of this, but I'm sort of like an hour away from you, so..."

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking hell...Yeah, we're not exactly speaking at the moment," she admitted.

"Wow, that's a first!?" her friend said, clearly surprised. "Why?"

"Look, I'd love to chat, but are you coming or not? There's no one else and I'm not calling Lando!"

"Yes, yes, I'm getting in the car, just let me say good bye to my friends here, we're having a picnic," she replied and muted voices of disapproval came from the background.

Y/N felt guilty about doing this, but she'd dropped everything she was oing for her friend many times, answered phone calls in the middle of the night even though she was an early bird. They just had this kind of friendship.

"Drive fast, please," she said, still stubborn and not about to call Lando.

//

Y/N sat there staring at the spider for good ten minuted before her friend called again.

"Ok, I'm in the car, you can talk about Lando now, keep me busy. I'm going to pass over the fact you and your boyfriend are fighting and I have no idea," she said unapologetically.

"Figured you'd be mad about that. Yeah, he's been acting like a bit of a dick..."

"But you're not broken up, right?" her friend asked, slightly worried about her favorite couple.

"No, I don't think so. I hope so," she realized, the spider in the corner becoming lesser of her problems.

"And what seems to be the problem? Did he cheat?"

"No, not that I'm aware," she replied without thinking.

"Did you cheat?" her friend asked, ready to support her in anything.

"Jesus, no. It's um...I dunno, we've just grown a bit distant. Lately it feels like I'm like at number 50 of his priorities list. It's always only racing, Quadrant, promo event this and that."

"That's shitty, yeah. Would you like to be included? I know you hate things like promo events and such."

"I do! But honestly, I miss him so much and frankly I'd like to be more included in his life somehow. Especially now that I have more time in my life."

"Does he know that?"

"No?"

Her friend let out a deep sigh. "Hm. You have to untangle that. It would be stupid to break up over that."

"Yeah, I'd hate that," she said, panic setting in.

"Text him to come. To save you from the spider. It's a nice excuse and good test. To see if he cares."

"I'm scared. What if he does not respond?"

Few moments of dramatic silence. "Well, at least you'd know."

"Yeah. Ok. Sending it." Y/N quickly typed something up, trying not to overthink it.

"What did you text?"

"Can you come over asap? I need help with a spider. It's urgent."

"Nice. Now you'll see what he does."

They stayed on the phone together for good half an hour. Catching up and distracting Y/N from the fact there was no text from Lando coming her way.

//

A doorbell rang.

"You're here already?" Y/N asked her friend, surprised by her ability to drive this fast.

"Nope, still very much far away. Did I hear a bell? Do you think it's him?"

"I dunno. I'll mute you and if it's him I'll hang up, ok?"

"Gotcha."

She opened the door with a heavy heart. What if it was not him?

But it was. Flustered Lando stood there without saying hello. The two shared a pain-filled look, neither of them enjoying this no contact streak they had.

"You came..." she said finally, ending the phone call.

"You texted..." he said dryly and in full macho mode entered her apartment without being let it. "Can you point me where?"

"That corner," she simply pointed, flushed with emotions. Happy that he came to rescue her, sad about his loveless tone and scared of what was to come after. She watched him from afar, as he skillfully took the spider and threw it out of the balcony.

"Don't say anything about him knowing his way back, please," he said, hinting on the countless debates they'd had before about Lando not wanting to kill every spider they'd encounter.

The air suddenly went very heavy. Lando casually headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while trying so hard to make eye contact with her. The last time they spoke was few days prior - and it was not a nice conversation. Lots of built up emotions got out, frustrated speeches made and confusing sentences jumping one after another. Ending with Lando slamming the door on his way out.

She had no clue where to start. "So, how have you been?" she asked, not sure she was ready for his answer. He finally looked at her, and then with an annoyed eye-roll went back into staring out of the window.

Y/N threw her hands up in the air as the familiar feeling from few days ago kicked back in. "Ok fine, sorry I asked. Thank you so much for your help, truly appreciated, but if you hate being around me, just say so that we can-"

"We can what?" he cut her off, not having any of that.

"I don't know, you tell me!...I'm getting lost at trying to read you," she admitted, not even trying to hide anything from him at this point.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I don't think I listened to you," he sighed before continuing, "Or more like did not hear what you were saying."

The validation felt rewarding. But she feared what would come next.

"What I heard at that moment was you not respecting my lack of time and the fact that things I'm involved in are important to me."

She took a breath and planned on interrupting him, which he noticed and tried to stop.

"Let me finish, please. But thinking about it, I figured that's not the case, and you were simply pointing out that I've been putting off spending time with you. Which you're absolutely correct. I figured since we've been going to strong lately, this would be fine. But truth is I hate this distance it created. I feel lost, uneasy and unable to focus," he blabbered something, which felt like he might have even rehearsed on the way to her. "What I'm trying to say is - do you still care enough for us to fix it?"

It felt vulnerable, raw and maybe even uncomfortable to have these kinds of talks. But this is ultimately what cements a relationship.

Feeling like he managed to destroy some of the wall they'd put up, she took few steps towards him.

"Lando, of course I do. It's not a rare event that I imagine our future life together, as a couple and one day potentially as a family. Never had this feeling before in my life. Please, let's figure out a way how to prevent the distance from happening. Things have changed now, the relationship has too. We've been together for almost two years. And my love for you has only grown."

He finally smiled, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page.

"I came right from the tennis court, left everyone behind. Would you like to go there with me? Hang out with the Quadrant squad for a bit and then have a nice dinner somewhere? I just want to spend this evening with you."

"And the night hopefully," she teased, trying to ease the mood.

"Always the night, it was absolutely horrible, knowing you're so close to me, yet having to sleep without you."

She closed the distance between them, embracing him into a hug. They bodies were more than familiar with each and it felt right to be that close. Definitely better than each of them standing in a different corner of the room.

"We still have to talk about this. I don't want our love to slip through by our fingers," she said, letting her anxiety out.

"We will. Tonight, we'll come up with a plan. Can you join me on few races later this month?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.

"Of course, my love. I have to buy new clothes though, the cameras are savage."

He chuckled, relaxed now that he did not have to worry about having lost her. "Yes, they are."

She later call her friend to thank her for dropping everything and driving to save her, even though it was not needed in the end. Her friend was more than happy that she and Lando seemingly found the way back to each other.

She also admitted that she turned back the moment Y/N sent her text to Lando, knowing that this guy would come running anytime his girlfriend asked for help.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot

[lxclerc]

𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary... a reunion between old lovers after five years and charles can't keep his eyes off of you. or his thoughts for that matter. faceclaim... christina nadin pairing… charles leclerc x reader warning… none so far. petty charles.

note... this is going to be part of a series that includes both one shots and smau but can be read as a stand alone

series masterlist

main masterlist

part two → current (part three) → part four

charles is a mess. truthfully this is to be expected but after five years, he thought he would be better than this but alas, you’re still as magnetic as he remembered you to be – even more so, if he’s being completely honest with himself. 

you look different – older. where they used to be rounded, baby face is all sharp bones. your hair looks different, longer and styled. and you smell different too, no longer the floral scent you’ve been using since you turned fourteen. 

you’re a stranger, he thought. he no longer knows your favorite color or your favorite meal or if you still like strawberry yogurt. he doesn’t know your favorite show or what perfume you use. he doesn’t know you. you’re a stranger and yet your eyes still do that thing where it creases to the point of being close when you smile and you still run your hand over your hair in an attempt to subtly fix it and your eyes still looks like pooled honey when the sun shines on it. 

you’re so different, a practical stranger and yet so familiar, like going back to a childhood home finding everything in the wrong place yet still knowing your way around with your eyes closed. 

he’s staring. he knew he is and he knew the amount of trouble he’d get from his team for it. he knew that everyone on twitter was probably already freaking out about it. he had clear instructions to act like nothing had happened and that the leaked pictures didn’t exist all. he’s supposed to act like you’re just another interviewer and this is just another media obligation he’s forced to do and you’re no one to him but he can’t help it. he can’t pretend like you’re a stranger when you left such a big imprint in his soul and he doesn’t have every freckle and skin tag and every inch of your skin memorized. 

and so he stares. he stares at the way you shift in your seat in an attempt to get comfortable. he stares at the way the long sleeved white dress hugged your curves. he stares at the way you smile, the way you laugh. he stares and tries to remind his heart the way you’d left, the way he’d begged you stay. with you a few feet in front of him, closer than you’ve ever been in years, charles reminds himself the things he had to do to put himself back together after you broke him. 

he tells himself that he hates you the same way he has been telling himself for five years now. he hates you and the way you walked away from him so easily. he hates you and the way you moved on so quickly. he hates you now for the way you’re not even affected. he hates you for loving him only to leave him. 

“and that’s all for today, everyone,” you say with that dazzling smile that makes him dizzy. he needs to get away from you. you’re clouding his judgment and messing with his emotions. 

after making sure the camera has stopped rolling, charles quickly removes the mic attached to him. the smile drops from your face as you see him so desperately hurried to get away from you. though you supposed you deserved that. 

“mate, you good?” carlos asked him quietly as charles practically slams the mic on the table. he seems worried and charles hadn’t even realized how angry he looks right now. he glanced at you, watching as you discussed with the producer, the wind blowing at your hair and the careless smile on your face. he hates you but you’re also the most beautiful person he’s ever met. he hates you and he’s so fucking tired of wanting you. 

he forced a smile on his face for carlos’ sake. “fine.” 

he’s already walking away when you called his name, not like you had in the show – filled with fake friendliness. this time, his name rolled off your tongue effortlessly. you called his name like you had a thousand times before, like nothing has ever changed. the entire set was calling to him but he didn’t seem to hear. 

“charles,” you called and immediately, he stopped in his tracks. he only heard your call and somehow that made him angrier at himself than he ever could be at you. 

his face is empty and void of any emotions as he turns to you and you swallow down the lump in your throat as you force a smile at him. you hoped it doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “we need to take a picture. for social media.” 

he may as well have spat at you with the look in his eyes. it made you feel small. he makes you feel small and suddenly you’re eighteen again, so small and insignificant next to him. 

as you and the two ferrari drivers posed for the photo, both charles and carlos respectfully wrapped an arm around you. you can feel the heat of charles’ body next to you, seeping right through your dress and spreading across your skin. his cologne is different – more rich and expensive but somehow still so him but his aftershave is the same as it has been since he was fifteen, so familiar and comforting to you  and you almost can’t help but lean into him. 

he’s pulling away before you can gather your thoughts, already walking away from you. 

—

charles should be celebrating. he finished on the podium which is pretty much a miracle nowadays. in fact, it’s a miracle to even be finishing the race with how his season is going but he’s been pretty distracted the whole weekend, seemingly only ever able to get you out of his head whenever he’s going two hundred miles per hour. he almost wants to laugh if he doesn't feel so pathetic. it’s somehow still exactly like before - with him needing to find some ways to risk his life just to be able to get you out of his mind. 

drinking the night away as he wallowed in self pity due to the thought of you is also entirely too familiar. 

“mon pote, comment peux-tu encore la laisser te faire ça ?” hugo asked, watching him. “cela fait des années” mate, how are you still letting her do this to you?... it’s been years. 

charles only gave a sarcastic smile. he doesn’t entirely know the answer to do that either. apparently the years between the two of you didn’t matter because you still have the exact same reaction to him. you make him lose his fucking mind, unable to to think straight. he does things he says he never will when it comes to you. he becomes desperate and weak and unable to handle his own emotions. he doesn’t understand himself when you’re around. 

maybe that’s why you left in the first place. the two of you affected each other far too much. it’s entirely too easy to get lost in each other and forget about everything else. 

“elle a l'air différente. elle a aussi une odeur différente,” he says before taking another shot. you’re so different and he hated it. he hates that there are things in your life he doesn’t know anymore. he hates the fact that you changed your perfume and that you can so easily pretend like he’s no one to you. if you can act like he’s no one to you so easily then perhaps he didn’t mean as much to you as he thought he did. she looks different. she smells different too.

you were his lifeline, the air in his lungs. you were everything and he would have given up anything just to keep you. he would have given up racing and his dreams – everything so he didn’t have to lose you. 

joris rolls his eyes. he knows this entirely too well unfortunately, he’s seen this exact scene before. “cela fait cinq ans, charles. bien sûr qu'elle a changé.” it's been five years, charles. of course she's changed. 

that only makes him laugh bitterly. 

— 

on the other side of the city lies you, cocooned in your fleece blanket as you stare at the wall. 

throughout the years that you and charles have bumped into each other, it had mostly been just surprise in his eyes – as though he could never quite believe that you’re in front of him. usually, you’ll be gone before it can change. 

today was different. there’s no surprise in his eyes nor was there any of the familiar warmth you’re so used to. today, he was filled with anger and indifference. he looked at you as though he hated you. and the worst part is that he probably does. the entire time it was as though he couldn’t get away from you fast enough, like he couldn’t stand even being in the same room as you. your entire life, charles has only ever looked at you with adoring and devoted eyes and now he can’t even stand to look at you. 

“il ne vous déteste pas,” arthur says over the phone with a roll of his eyes as though you’re being ridiculous for even suggesting such things. he doesn’t hate you.

but arthur wasn’t there. arthur didn’t see how charles practically ran away from you. still, you say nothing to the matter, far too upset to even bother trying to defend yourself. 

“i’m going to go to sleep, art,” you say softly instead. “it’s pretty late here.” 

you and arthur say your goodnights before you shut off the call. but just as you’re about to place your phone down for the tonight, it lights up with a text message. your eyebrows knit together in confusion. who’d be texting you this late anyways?

taglist: @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody @roseseraj @celestialams @1655clean @minkyungseokie @ssararuffoni @f1verse @honethatty12 @formulas-bitch @nmw-am @lorarri @erikasurfer @iamahallucinationn @thievin-stealing @glow-ish @raevyng @scenesofobx @coffeehurricanes @applopie @sukisheadlights @iampersonn @blueflorals @marialovesf1 @charli123456789 @127deob1

#formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 one shot #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smau #smau #social media #formula 1 smau

[phillydilly]

Contours of comfort

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

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[rhaenella]

LN4 | Challenge Accepted

pairing: lando norris x non-driver!reader

genre: one shot ✿

summary: it’s been five years since the last chinese gp, so when you and lando are set up to race each other on the shanghai circuit on mclaren’s state of the art simulator, anything is possible…

word count: 5.6k

masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The sound of feet tapping restlessly against the floor, alternated by the squeaking of a swivel chair spinning round, echoed through the large hall at McLaren HQ. With a sigh, you refreshed your social media—again—but there were no new posts of any kind to keep you occupied. You’d already gone through all of them.

Your boyfriend and F1 driver, Lando Norris, was somewhere in the massive building, filming interviews, challenges and whatnot for the McLaren social media platforms. He had asked if you'd come with him today, mostly because you already saw so little of each other due to his busy schedule. Not that you saw much of each other right now, but at least there wasn’t an ocean between you like there usually was. 

Besides, he’d promised he would wrap up as quickly as he could, and take you out for dinner. So. The wait was worth it. Even though you were bored out of your mind for the foreseeable future.

After walking up and down the hall’s boulevard four times over, admiring all of the beautiful, historical cars on display, you had checked out the trophy wall, which was just as impressive. But since you weren’t allowed access anywhere else inside the building, at least not without a chaperone, there wasn’t much else for you to do or see. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, spinning around in a chair like an impatient five-year-old, the line of racing cars and the lake outside whooshing by. 

“Y/N?”

The chair came to an abrupt stop. “Yea–yes?” you squinted at the blurry figure in front of you. 

Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to spin around so many times that your vestibular system now made it feel like you were on a ship battling a terrible storm. Luckily, once your vision cleared, you recognised the person instantly. It was Lando’s performance engineer, Andrew Jarvis. You’d seen him around race tracks a few times—he was always very friendly and kind to you.

“Jarv! Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. What about yourself?”

“Oh, good, good… Enjoying the scenery,” you sneered, waving a hand.

“Right,” he drawled, looking you up and down with an amused smile. “Bored?”

“Yes,” you groaned, sinking a little deeper into the chair. “So. Fucking. Bored.”

Jarv chuckled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid Lando is still tied up. I think he and Oscar are filming some kind of… song challenge? I don’t know,” he shrugged with another laugh. “It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”

Your lips quirked up. “Imagine if it was. You could start hiding strategy calls in songs and sing them over the board radio.”

He wavered. “That would be…”

“Genius?”

“Eh, well,” he faltered, his mouth twitching all the same. 

“Right. Maybe not,” you laughed. 

Although, privately you thought it would be a hilarious idea. With a tinge of brilliance, perhaps. But the pinnacle of motorsport would probably be a little too serious to see it your way. 

“I’m obviously not an engineer, or a strategist, or a driver. So, I guess I’ll just stay here,” you sighed, patting the armrests of your new friend, the swivel chair. “And try to excel in exercising patience instead.”

Jarv nodded, his brows furrowing. “Maybe you don’t have to…” 

You eyed him with a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”

He checked his watch and glanced around before looking back to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

Jarv had already turned on his heel before you could object, expecting you to blindly follow him to wherever it was he intended to take you. Which you did… without too much thought. Let’s just say boredom got the best of you. Choosing between sitting another god knows how many hours in that chair, or doing something—anything—the choice wasn’t hard. So, you leaped from your seat, sprinting to catch up with him. 

“Wait!” 

He slowed down, and you fell into step beside him. “What’s your idea? Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

You neared the large double doors at the rear of the boulevard. Jarv pressed his right thumb on a small, glass box on the wall next to them, waiting for his fingerprint to be authorised. The system scanned his print, and the light tinged green. “Welcome, Mr. Jarvis,” a female voice said as the doors automatically opened in front of you.

“Nice.”

Jarv grinned, gesturing for you to precede him into the restricted wing of McLaren HQ. The part that the general public never got to see. You gazed around in amazement. You knew it was a large building, but it was more like a maze back here, and you quickly lost all sense of direction.

“I should probably text Lando, he’s gonna wonder where I’ve disappeared to.”

“Don’t worry, Lando is heading where we’re going, too.”

You relaxed a little at that, however your curiosity didn’t subside as you trailed after Jarv throughout the many long corridors. Where the hell were you going?

The behind the scenes looked arguably even more impressive than all the trophies and race-winning cars that were being flaunted in the entrance hall. You passed countless offices, labs, and workshops where employees were working on top-secret updates for the MCL38, or perhaps even next year’s car. And although Jarv kept up a good pace, you were still able to sneak a few glimpses here and there, thanks to all the glass walls. Most of the technology looked so futuristic, you felt like you had accidentally stepped onto the set of a sci-fi film.

Jarv made a sharp right turn down another hallway. This one only had one door at the end, and it wasn’t made out of glass like the rest of them, which prevented you from being able to see what was behind it. 

You read the sign next to the door, which only added to the mystery. 

Strictly No Admittance. Authorised Personnel Only.

“This is it,” Jarv said, retrieving a key to unlock the door, opening it wide. 

Well, there was your authorisation.

You stepped into the mysterious, dimly lit room, your eyes gradually widening with awe. 

The room was roughly twelve by twelve metres, and in the centre stood two professionally altered Formula 1 cars, both with their own 180-degree widescreens set up in a semicircle around them. The back wall was lined with large computer screens, a row of chairs stationed in front of them, which gave you the feeling you were looking at a small-scale pitwall. 

Holy… beep.

Speaking of futuristic tech, this was way up there.

“Welcome to the McLaren simulation room.”

You whirled around to face Jarv, beaming. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen a sim like this before.”

It was true. Sure, Lando had his own simulator at home in Monaco. But it was nothing compared to this piece of craftsmanship.

Jarv hummed, smiling as he walked to the faux-pitwall. “So. You ready to try it out?”

You blinked. “Ready to–wait a minute… what?”

You stared at Jarv as he turned on the computers, pressing buttons here and there that made the right car hum to life. Next, the widescreen around the car powered up as well, causing a wave of light to brighten the otherwise dark room.

“Jarv?”

He opened a cabinet, retrieving a steering wheel before he walked to the simulator. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t want to.”

“That’s not it,” you trailed off. 

“Good,” he said, turning around, looking at you expectantly. “So get in, then.”

“But… what about Lando? You said he was on his way over here. Don’t they need the room?”

“They will be here to film something in,” Jarv checked his watch again. “In a little over an hour. Until then, the room is empty, and we can use it. I presume you’ve driven a simulator before?”

“Yeah, I have… but don’t I need some kind of special clearance to use one of these?” One of these super expensive, highly accurate simulators that are solely used to train drivers and prepare the real cars and their setups for race weekends. Whatever could go wrong?

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. I’m Lando’s performance engineer. I’m one of the few that gets to decide who uses the sim.”

You shifted your weight, still unsure. “I’m not gonna be any good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have fun, or would you rather return to the waiting area?”

“No.”

Jarv’s smile widened, and he gestured to the sim, inviting you to take a seat.

You hesitantly walked up to the car, twisting your rings, a nervous habit of yours. You’d tried the simulator at Lando’s before, and like you’d already pointed out to Jarv, you weren’t any good at it. Lando had tried to talk you through it, telling you where to break and lift, but it was painfully clear you weren’t cut out to be a driver. 

And now you had to drive in McLaren’s state of the art simulator, under the watchful eye of Lando’s performance engineer. The pressure was real. You didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.

After you’d managed to, somewhat awkwardly, settle yourself in the sim’s seat, Jarv locked the steering wheel into place. It was familiar to you as it looked exactly like the one on Lando’s car, just like everything else on this sim. Except that it didn’t have a front or back wing, or any tyres.

“Alright, before you start driving, it’s important to know the ins and outs of the track you’re racing at. Which in this case will be Shanghai, the location of next weekend’s race,” Jarv said, pressing a few buttons. 

The layout of the track popped up on the screen in front of you, with a sea of information and data appearing on the sides. 

“Don’t worry about the data. We’ll stick to the basics that are of importance to you as a driver. Ready?”

You nodded.

“Good. So, the Shanghai International Circuit has sixteen corners, two DRS-zones on the main straights; one in sector three, and the other on start-finish…”

***

“I don’t know, I feel like maybe I should pursue a musical career,” Lando joked as he and Oscar followed Marion, the head of McLaren’s PR team, down the building’s corridors. 

They had just finished filming another challenge for YouTube. Or Instagram. Or both. Lando didn’t really care about the specifics. It was just another part of his job. Something he’d rather be done with soon, so he could go back to his girl.

Oscar snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be a Grammy-nominated artist in no time.”

Lando grinned, agreeing with a nod. 

“Alright, lads. One more, and then you’re free to go,” Marion called over her shoulder. 

It was absolute music to Lando’s ears.

“What is it that we have to do?” Oscar asked.

“You’ll be racing each other on the sim, just for a couple of laps, around the Shanghai circuit.”

“I thought we were gonna train on the sim in the morning,” Lando said.

Marion nodded. “You will. This is only a short challenge for a video ahead of the Chinese Grand Prix. Because we haven’t raced there in so long, we thought it’d be fun to film your initial reaction to the track driving the MCL38.”

He and Oscar shared a look. They were always down for a race. There was no question about it.

The click-clacking of Marion’s heels bounced around the hallway as the group made their way to the simulation room. When they arrived, Will, Lando’s race engineer, and a camera and sound crew were waiting for them by the door.

“Why are you all out here? You should be setting up the cameras,” Marion scolded, looking at the men expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

But the men ignored her, instead they all looked to Lando, grinning. He frowned, not at all understanding the meaning behind the knowing looks they were sending him. What was up with them?

“Someone beat us to the sim, I’m afraid,” Will explained, his eyes still on Lando.

Marion turned to Lando as well, equally confused. “What does that mean?”

Lando met her eye and shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

As if on cue, a high pitched scream came from the simulation room, followed by a distinct, “That’s more like it!”

Will and the crew chuckled, but Marion wasn’t having it. “What on earth is going on,” she bristled, pushing past them to enter the room.

Lando followed her, but he couldn’t have been less prepared for the scene they stumbled upon next. 

Occupying one of the simulators was his girlfriend, and right next to you stood Jarv, who was closely monitoring your driving, giving you short and precise instructions. You were going down the straight at full throttle, following Jarv’s pointers as you breaked and hit the curb perfectly for a smooth exit.

What the hell? 

He’d thought you were still waiting for him in the entrance hall on the other side of the building. Never in a million years had he expected to find you here, racing on McLaren’s simulator, looking like you actually knew what you were doing no less. 

So that’s why all the guys had been smirking at him…

“What do we have here?”

You jumped at Lando’s voice, immediately causing the car to spin and crash during your momentary lapse of concentration. 

“Fuck! I was on a flying lap…”

“And a bloody good one at that,” Jarv added, proud.

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “You were what?” His eyes flicked from you to Jarv, to you, and then back to Jarv. “Mate?”

Before Jarv could utter a word, you turned to face your boyfriend with a wide smile. “Baby, guess what?! I’m not a complete loser at this!”

“I–I’m so proud of you… but,” Lando shook his head, still not understanding any of this. “Why are you two in here?”

You grabbed onto the halo and pulled yourself out of the car to face him. “Jarv came to see how I was doing, and since I had nothing better to do, he suggested I’d give this a try,” you explained, gesturing to the sim.

“Oh, I see,” Lando smiled. 

Yet he struggled to swallow the bitter taste at seeing you spending time and having fun with Jarv. All the while he had been stuck ‘working’. Not that he blamed you for it. He was the one who left you all by yourself for so long. But still… 

“Uhm, but now that you’re all here,” you said, a bit sheepish, your eyes scanning the gathering crowd. “I’ll uhm, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Very well,” Marion called, but she was quickly interrupted.

“No, no, no, no. Wait a second. I need to know something first,” Will spoke, stepping forward. “Jarv, we need your professional assessment, man. How did she do?”

Marion sighed, tapping her phone to check the time, which only made her look more impatient. Lando ignored her, his eyes sliding from you to his performance engineer, curious as well. 

“Y/N did great. She struggled a little at first, but the more laps she did, the better she got,” Jarv beamed. He turned to face Lando. “You know, I reckon she’d even have a good chance at beating you.”

Lando studied him. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m being serious, mate. I’d wager good money on it.”

Marion’s annoyance evaporated within an instant, her eyes lighting up. “Oh gosh, that is a perfect idea, Jarvis.”

“What is? Gambling?” 

“No,” she huffed. “I mean, instead of Lando against Oscar, we can have these two lovebirds race each other on the sim instead!”

“What?” you and Lando cried in unison.

Everyone looked at you, and your cheeks tinged a soft pink. You weren’t used to all the attention, usually preferring to keep a lower profile. Well, as much as that was possible dating a Formula 1 driver.

“Guys, I’m flattered. Truly, I am. But I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I know you’re all here to do a job, and that job doesn’t include me…”

“That’s right,” Lando agreed. He shot you a brief smile before addressing Marion. “Besides, she doesn’t like to be the centre of attention, and I don’t want her to embarrass herself in front of the eyes of millions.”

Something stirred inside you. “What does that mean? You don’t think I can beat you?”

“Well, sweetheart…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing. 

Under other circumstances, you would have agreed with him. But this last hour and a half with Jarv had boosted your confidence. It had gone really well, exceeding both of your expectations on your sim racing capabilities by miles. And maybe, some part of you, just wanted to show him that.

Like Lando, you never shied away from competition. Not if you had a chance at winning. You weren’t a hundred percent sure if you did right now. But you couldn’t deny you weren’t more than a little curious to find out. And seeing as Lando had just called you out in front of everyone, the only logical thing to do was rise to the challenge.

“You know what? I’m in.”

With that, you climbed back into the snug seat, forcing the thought of having everyone’s eyes on you to the back of your mind. 

Lando’s eyes widened. “What?” 

“Wonderful,” Marion exclaimed. “Let’s roll, people.”

Lando watched as everybody around him immediately jumped into action, including the camera and sound guys who got ready to put it all on film. Jarv grinned and grabbed his tablet, giving a slight nod to Will, who nodded in return and went to start up the second simulator and retrieve a steering wheel for Lando.

“I’ll be assisting Y/N, and just like with a normal race, Will can be Lando’s engineer,” Jarv said.

“Yep,” Will said, holding up the steering wheel as he walked to the other sim. “We’re good to go.”

“We are too!” one of the crewmen announced.

Marion smiled, but it faded when she noticed Lando still standing by the door, not having moved an inch. “What are you waiting for? Get in the car,” she said.

She started pushing Lando in the direction of the other sim, but he stood his ground. 

“Hold on. We can’t do this.”

“What? Why not?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Lando sighed. “You know why.” 

Did they? Did he? 

Lando loved to race, and he certainly loved you. So what was stopping him from combining the two? 

He wasn’t scared of losing—he never has been, and never would. Not that there was any real chance that you, an inexperienced ‘driver’, could beat him today. There was simply no way. 

He’d seen you try the sim at his house, and despite his best efforts, you were, for lack of a better term, absolute rubbish. But then again, Jarv had seemed so sure of himself. That man didn’t lie or exaggerate. He would give it to you straight if you underperformed or weren’t any good. Lando had always admired and respected that. 

So, had Jarv been able to unearth some sort of racing talent that was buried deep inside of you? Something that Lando himself hadn’t managed to uncover…

Was that why he hesitated going up against you? His sense of pride?

Lando groaned internally. If anything, that should make him that much more adamant to race you.

He looked over to see you were already staring at him, ambition burning bright in your eyes. Ambition to beat him. At the thing he did best… It was alluring, and Lando felt his own competitiveness flare. 

“No, we don’t. Honestly, what’s stopping you?”

“It’s only five laps. It’ll be a piece of cake for you, Norris.”

“Unless that’s the problem,” Jarv joked. “Maybe he needs to warm up and familiarise himself with the track first…”

“I think all of you are forgetting that I’m the only one here who actually raced in Shanghai,” Lando shot back, unconsciously taking a step towards the sim.

“And how did that work out for you, mate?” Oscar chimed in.

Lando glared at him and Oscar struggled to contain his laughter. 

“Even better,” you exclaimed, reclaiming your boyfriend’s attention. “You have on track experience and I’ve had a little time to prepare with Jarv. That’s fair enough, right?”

“Y/N… are you sure you want to…” 

He was so close to giving in. He knew it, you knew it, probably everyone did. Besides, you had one more trick up your sleeve. One that would surely make his competitive side overshadow any lingering doubts, and get him to race you in that other sim.

“When have you ever walked away from a race? Hm? Unless you’re scared you’ll lose…”

That struck the intended chord. 

Oh, she didn’t, Lando thought. 

You gave him your most innocent looking smile, but he knew damn well what you were doing. He shook himself. Fine. If you wanted to race him so badly, he would give it to you. And no way in hell would he still consider going easy on you.

Lando promptly made his way to the other car and slid into the seat with practised ease. He signalled Will, who handed him the steering wheel. He clicked it into place before glancing to his right, smiling dangerously. “Alright, you’re on, darling. Challenge accepted.”

At that, Jarv entered a bunch of commands on his tablet, which was connected to the simulator’s system, to set the race parameters. Two cars appeared on the screens, each from their own driver’s point of view, already in position to start racing at Shanghai’s International Circuit.

“As you can see, Lando will start on the right and Y/N will start on the left,” Jarv informed.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lando sputtered. “Why are you starting from pole and not me?”

“Because I clocked the fastest lap time.”

“You clocked the only lap time.”

You shrugged, smiling. “Take it up with race control, baby.”

“Don’t worry,” Will reassured, looking at his own tablet as he scrolled through the accumulated data from your runs. “Break late, and you can easily overtake her in the first corner.”

Lando nodded, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as the digital green flag was waved.

Jarv leaned in to whisper in your ear: “No, he won’t. Just remember what I taught you.”

“Aye, aye,” you said, focusing on the lights.

The cameras were all set and rolling, and Marion looked around, relishing the unexpected turn of events. This would be an enormous hit online, for sure. Her eyes landed on Oscar who stood to the back, watching the couple with an amused glint in his eye. If only she could involve him as well somehow… that would make it even better.

“Oscar, why don’t you take on the role of commentator?” Marion suggested, her tone indicating that he didn’t have much of a choice. 

Oscar startled. “Oh. Uhm. Yeah, sure.”

He moved to stand in between the two simulators, clearing his throat. “Right. Uhm. Welcome to the Shanghai International Circuit for the 2024 Chinese Grand Prix… It’s Sunday, April 21st—well, not really but let’s go with it—uhm, and we’ll soon start racing–”

“You’re a lousy commentator, Piastri,” Lando interrupted.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “How about you worry about yourself, Norris.”

Lando snickered, but he quickly sobered when the first light gleamed red. Then the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and…

“It’s lights out and away we go!”

You got away quick, but Lando was faster, years of experience siding with him.

“Lando dives into the first corner, ahead of Y/N. Can she cross back? No, no she cannot. Ah, bummer…” Oscar narrated. “She’s right behind him, though, going into turn 3. Lando nearly missing the apex there, but he recovers well. OH! Oh, never mind. Lando goes wide in turn 6! Yeah, he’s familiar with that one.”

“Shut up,” Lando snapped.

“I didn’t think so, mate,” Oscar grinned, settling into his new character nicely. 

“Y/N is back on his heels as they go down sector two. DRS is not yet enabled, but she is only six tenths behind! Will Y/N be able to overtake Norris without DRS on the straight? She’s getting closer… they’re racing each other into turn 14, and… OH Y/N, massive lock-up! She manages to keep the car on track. Excellent save! But that’s gonna cost her some valuable time.”

You crossed start-finish, eyeing the time as you entered lap two.

Oscar’s voice boomed loud. “DRS enabled! But Y/N is too far–”

“Just 1.2 seconds behind, you can still do this,” Jarv encouraged. “Line-up on the left and take the first corner on the inside. Yeah, like that. Good.”

On the other side of the room, Will was giving Lando similar instructions. It had, after all, been a while since Lando had last raced this track. During his rookie year, no less. Therefore it was currently taking him quite a bit of effort to find the correct race line, especially with the many difficult corners and hairpins around the track. 

“Steady on,” Will said. “Y/N is out of DRS. Let’s keep it that way.”

The couple sped down the track on their simulators, and even though most of your focus was spent on driving and listening to Jarv’s notes, you also marvelled at the accuracy and realism of the sim. From the sensations of the literal car you were seated in, down to the gravel Lando’s little off-track adventure had caused to spread in and around turn 6. Whatever the outcome of the race, this experience would certainly beat waiting around and lounging in that swivel chair.

“Great exit from Norris who is absolutely flying down the straight in sector three, followed by Y/N at 1.4 seconds. Still doing a phenomenal job so far!” Oscar continued, his eyes glued to the screen. “Approaching turn 14, can Y/N manage the hairpin this time? What?! Oh, no! It’s Lando that locks up this time… Oiiioii, mighty turn 14 proves to be too much for both of our star drivers.”

Jarv kept a close eye on the interval time, and thanks to Lando’s mistake, the gap had already shrunk to 1.1 seconds. “Okay, now use the extra power from the ERS to get closer,” he instructed.

You did as you were told, pressing the correct button on the steering wheel, which gave you an extra boost to get even closer to Lando.

“Y/N gaining on Norris! And she’s now back within DRS at 0.9 seconds. Whoa, what a truly remarkable performance by someone who has never driven a race car or a sim like this before! I’d vote for her as driver of the day…”

“No one asked your opinion,” Lando cut off, sounding a little strained.

“Whatever,” Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Lando Grumpy-Ass Norris struggles to maintain the gap between him and his girlfriend, hitting the curb a little enthusiastically right there. Oh, Y/N faces the same issues! It’s all about keeping the focus now, ladies and gents. Will Y/N be able to close the gap? Will she be able to attack Norris?”

Marion stood behind the cameras, watching gleefully how you and Lando raced each other around the virtual Shanghai circuit. Oh, you were even better than she could have ever anticipated. Better than anyone in the room could have ever anticipated, really. The whole crew was watching the race with baited breath. 

You were almost equally matched. With you, a real diamond in the rough, having received some training beforehand, and Lando, an experienced driver, essentially going in blind—it was a golden match.

Were you going to be able to do the unthinkable?

“We’re going into the penultimate lap, and even with Lando strategically using his batteries, Y/N has managed to close the gap to 0.7 with DRS. And there she is also clocking the fastest lap. Wow!”

“You can win a little bit of extra time in sector two,” Will analysed. “Turns 9 and 12 are crucial. You need a good exit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Does he?” Oscar cut in. “We’ve got track limits for Norris in turn 9! He’s getting desperate now, with Y/N coming for him at 0.6 seconds. Is she going to—yes! She’s attempting to overtake Norris ahead of turn 11 but… fails… Oh, that was a bold move by Y/N! She lost a bit of time with that one, but she’s still within DRS range and knows she will be able to get close again for another attack.”

Your knuckles were turning white from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel. You couldn’t make a mistake, not now. You were so close… On the other sim, Lando was in a similar state. Although he was clenching his jaw in concentration instead. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep you behind him.

“Final lap,” Oscar announced. “And Norris crosses the white lines again! Turn 3 this time. Yep, there it is. Second track limits for Norris. He is feeling the heat, and not the good kind.”

Jarv’s mouth twitched. “It’s been five years since Lando raced here, let’s use it to our advantage,” he spoke to you in a hushed tone.

You nodded, your eyes never wavering from the screen in front of you.

Jarv checked the data, both yours and Lando’s, then leaned in. “Okay, here’s what you’ll do: instead of following the race line at–”

Will was closely observing you and Jarv from the other side of the room, but he couldn’t make out what Jarv was saying over the sounds of the simulators’ engines and Oscar still commentating to his heart’s content. He looked down at his driver, who was fully focused on the task before him.

“And then use the charged batteries after exiting turn 13. I know Lando’s defending tactics, this should work. He won’t see it coming,” Jarv finished. 

You simply nodded again, trusting your engineer’s judgement. You would give it your all to try and execute his strategy as best you could.

“As we’re nearing the chequered flag, all bets are off. Lando is fighting for his position with everything he has, but Y/N is not ready to call it quits just yet!” 

Your heart rate was off the charts, but you managed to stay calm, hitting the apexes, the metres between you and Lando’s car in front dwindling with each passing second.

“0.5 seconds, 0.4 seconds…”

“Flat out, Y/N. Let’s go,” Jarv said, his own heart rate ticking up.

“She’s chasing him, with DRS… There she comes. There she comes… round the inside! Y/N overtakes Norris!” Oscar roared. “Diving into the infamous turn 14… and… and she makes it! Hell yeah! What a mega move from Y/N! Now into the final corner. Can she stay ahead of Norris? Can she…? Yes!! Yes, she can!”

You passed the chequered flag, your mouth falling open in shock.

“Y/N wins the Chinese Grand Prix!”

“OH MY GOD!!”

Jarv's laugh pierced the room. “Get in! I told you!”

He managed to stop himself just in time before he started jumping up and down like an overly excited little boy. You shared his enthusiasm though, unable to control the slight tremor in your hands at seeing your name next to the word WINNER displayed boldly on the screen in front of you. 

Holy fuck, you did it. You actually did it.

Lando sank low in his seat. “How the hell…”

Will patted him on the shoulder, consoling. “You did your best mate.”

“Clearly it wasn’t enough,” he grumbled.

Will glanced at their celebrating opponents, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Get your mind out of the gutter, mate, and look on the bright side.”

“Which is?”

“Your girlfriend just showed you the perfect overtake manoeuvre for Sunday.”

“Ha-ha, very funny…”

Although, you really did. 

Lando turned to see Jarv help you out of the simulator, still grinning from ear to ear. You were reeling, the adrenaline of the fight and win coursing through your veins. Suddenly you understood what it must feel like to come out of a real F1 car, and to stand on the podium, basking in that feeling of winning a race.

As soon as you were out, Jarv high-fived you. “Solid race. That’s some potential, that is.”

Oscar came up next. “Awesome job, Y/N. Seriously. Great overtake at the end there. Perhaps you’ll be my future teammate,” he winked.

You giggled. “Thanks, guys!”

Even Will smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up as you walked over to Lando who was still seated in the other sim, sulking.

“Oh, come on,” you pouted, reaching out your hand, a peace offering. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Sure thing, it was,” he muttered, but he accepted your hand anyway before jumping out of the car. 

When he stood in front of you, he took a moment to look you up and down, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. His ego may have taken quite the blow today, but there was no denying he was also extremely proud of you. Jarv had been right after all, and Lando was happy he hadn’t taken the engineer up on his bet.

He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”

You shrugged, smiling. “Need to keep things fresh and exciting, don’t I? Otherwise you’ll tire of me in no time.”

“Never,” Lando scoffed, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving your lips a soft peck. “However, as much as I’m proud of you… this footage will never see the light of day.” 

You laughed, your eyes locking with Marion.

She sent you a wink. “We’ll see about that.”

***

a/n: thank you for reading <3 feedback is adored. 

by the way, should i make a taglist for future f1 fics? is that something you’d be interested in? or perhaps for specific drivers? let me know!

also posted on ao3

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x non-driver reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 fanfic #chinese gp 2024 #lando norris #oscar piastri #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris blurb #challenge accepted

[pierregazly]

in the mind of another ꨄ max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!soulmate!reader

warnings: mentions of sexual themes (no smut), pining/yearning for another, tiny bit of angst but hea! [wc is 5.4k]

in which soulmates always have a way of building the connection with one another. for you and max, you've always been the voice instead the others head, the one thing that has always been a constant presence. but will that voice inside your head, ever be the voice you hear from in front of you?

By legal terms, a soulmate was defined as “person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity.  This may involve similarity, love, romance, platonic relationships, comfort, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, compatibility and trust.” In today’s day and age, more often than not, your soulmate was that of romantic origin, a person you yearned for on a regular basis. 

It was something instilled in you at an early age, that everyone had a soulmate, but not everyone met their soulmate. Everyone had a way of interacting with their soulmate before they met. You learned early on, very early on, that you could interact with your soulmate through your mind. Through words, pictures, even internal conversations. But sometimes those interactions would lead to nothing, and your parents tried to ensure you were aware of that in the fear that you would be heartbroken one day.  

One thing you could never do was tell them your name, who you were, or where you were until it was time. It was like your mind would go elsewhere when you tried to tell the male on the other end who you were. He told you the same thing happened to him every time he tried.  

The both of you spent a plentiful amount of time interacting in your shared youth. He would often ramble on about his day, about go-karting, and his dad who he kind of hated but obviously loved, about his mum who he missed, and his sister who he couldn’t wait to see when she came to visit him wherever he was in the world. 

You would do the same, you’d tell him about the things you did that specific day, explain little things about your family, the things you looked forward to for the remainder of the week. It was something you both just got used to. 

The both of you grew up together. Even if it wasn’t physical, you were an emotional tether for one another when either of you needed it. He was there for almost all of your firsts, your first graduation, your first familial heartbreak, your first crush, your first boyfriend (which he was eager to help you through when it ended).  

Ever embarrassing to admit, he was even the one in your mind, more times than you can count, when you felt the butterflies in your tummy growing as your fingers explored different parts of your body. He always pushed you to continue, telling you exactly what he would do with his own fingers, or his own tongue; when he finally got the chance to make you feel the way you were making yourself feel. 

It was something you didn’t speak about after it happened, but it didn’t change the fact he was usually the one your brain went to when you made yourself feel that way. He argued it was the soulmate connection, that your soul just simply wanted him to be the one to do it. 

As time went on, the conversations dwindled amongst the two of you, both of you growing up and growing out of the fantasy that you would meet your soulmate one day, meet each other. 

You still got glimpses into his brain occasionally, pictures of blue and red cars, racecars are what you presumed. His fingers on what looked like a controller, but turned out to be a steering wheel when you asked him what it was. 

“Seems like a bit of an extravagant steering wheel, no?” 

The silent laugh was loud in your mind, as if you could feel his body rumbling in its laughter at your words, “Pretty extravagant, yeah. Not everyone gets to use something like this, though.” 

“Explain the steering wheel to me, there’s too many buttons and toggles,” you prompted him, knowing full well it would dive him deep into an explanation about the object you so often saw inside his head. 

That was another thing you learned about him early on. He liked to explain everything. He used to spend hours describing the go-karts he drove every weeknight and weekend, putting as much detail and emphasis into his explanations so that you would better understand. As time went on, so did his explanations, explaining situations he’s found himself in around the world, explaining how his career was kicking his ass but how he loved it, occasionally getting drunk and explaining how soulmates worked and that it was inevitable you’d meet one day, even if it felt like that day was never coming.  

Not wanting to be the one to burst his fantasy and ruin whatever hope he had, you would usually just nod along and silently hum to him when the conversation of eventually meeting one day was brought up. 

You still shared nights together, even from thousands of miles apart, your brain yearning for him as his did the same. 

There were moments in time, where you were positive you had almost met him, or perhaps had made eye contact with him. It was a small feeling inside of you, like everything you were looking for was in the same building as you, or around the corner, or even in the same city. 

Usually just as fast as the feeling appeared, it was gone. It never lasted for long periods of time, it was like your soulmate bond was teasing you, pushing for you to reinstate your faith in the connection. He always argued that if you lost faith in the soulmate bond, it would lose faith in trying to push the two of you together. 

Yet another thing you learned early on, whoever he was, arguing was in his blood. If he disagreed with you, with something you said, or with an opinion you had, he would go off into a whole explanation and argument about why he knew you were wrong, and how he knew he was right. 

It was endearing, how passionate he was about everything in his life, and seeing how his passion for everything just continued to grow as he grew up.  

Over the last 8 years, you had learned not to even attempt to communicate with him on Saturday or Sundays. He had told you that it was the busiest time of the work week for him, and that he couldn’t handle internal distractions on those days. 

You would only speak to him when he spoke to you on those days. Usually it was a fleeting ‘have a nice rest of your weekend’ or ‘I can’t wait until you’re here with me, celebrating this with me’.  

He never elaborated on the last part, and you never went out of your way to ask. Whoever he was, he was usually celebrating something on Sundays, at least that’s what you assumed from the raw happiness and elation that usually went through your connection on those days. 

You hadn’t heard from him, from your soulmate, in weeks. Which wasn’t necessarily unusual, either of you could cut off the connection for weeks at a time if things were stressful in life, or if you just needed a break from the never-ending person that was inside your head at all times. 

It didn’t mean you didn’t miss his dry sense of humour, the bluntness with which he said things to you, the never-ending arguments about the stupidest things. You would never admit any of this to him, though.  

Ignoring the yearning-feeling from inside of you, you allowed yourself to think about how things would be if you ever met the person on the other end of the connection. Would it be instant happiness? Relief? Joy? 

People always explained their own experiences to you, saying it was like love at first sight, but amplified so significantly, because it felt like your soul was complete, like everything was finally where it needed to be in life. They described it as meeting the one thing that made you whole, the one thing that made you continuously push to be your best self, to continuously push to be better at everything you did in life.  

You truly couldn’t believe what they said, not that it sounded exaggerated or silly. It was just difficult to imagine anything causing a feeling so instantaneously and intense as what they described.  

Your friends had disappeared earlier in the day, eager to try and find themselves different drivers throughout the entrances to get photos or autographs with. You really had no interest in any of it. Your soulmate had eagerly admired, and shit talked almost every single person on the grid to you, at least once or twice, so it really wasn’t worth trying to interact with any of them after that. 

Your paddock pass sat heavily on your chest, the lanyard rubbing against your neck as the bright Sun shined down upon your skin. The cheering of the Tifosi could be heard throughout the entire fan sections. The Ferrari faithful were dedicated, especially at their own Grand Prix. 

He had told you that Monza was one of the ones not to miss. That it was electric, regardless of who you drove for, even if the fans were booing your favourite driver, or your favourite team, it was a delight to drive in Monza. 

You found yourself staring at the different drivers names that were wrapped around the seating section. Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell... Max Verstappen. 

He was handsome, that you could admit. With his pretty blue eyes, and his arrogant little smirk, and his annoying obsession with having to win.  

“Oh, you think Max Verstappen has pretty blue eyes, huh?”  

A small sound erupted from your chest as you listened to the words floating through your head from the man you hadn’t heard from in weeks. 

“Look who’s alive! Thought you got lost with your little controller steering wheel.” 

Laughing at your words, “You didn’t answer my question! You think Max Verstappen has pretty eyes?” 

“I think Max Verstappen himself is pretty. Other than when he’s being an arrogant prick.” 

That feeling had been eating at you all day, again. Like your soulmate bond was trying to force you to go in a direction you weren’t understanding. It was like it was trying to tell you that he was here, that he was so close you could almost smell him, almost touch him. You had been ignoring the little jabs inside of you all day, refusing to acknowledge the fact that maybe, just maybe, the person you were yearning for so heavily, was so close. 

“My soulmate just called me an arrogant prick, without realizing she was calling me an arrogant prick.”  

The Brit in front of him guffawed, his whole body moving as he gripped his side at Max’s words, “Mate, how did that even happen?” 

Shrugging his shoulders as he looked at Lando, “Not too sure. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks, figured she had shut the connection off for some time alone and all of a sudden, she’s thinking about how ‘Max Verstappen has such pretty blue eyes’ and then told me that I’d... or he’d be attractive all the time if he wasn’t such an arrogant prick.”  

Patting his shoulder gently, all Lando did was grin at him, “Just think, mate. At least whoever she is, she thinks you have pretty eyes and that you’re good looking when you’re not being an arrogant prick.” 

Max shoved him as he walked by, walking away in the direction of his driver's room. He had been having that feeling again, like his body was yearning for something that it couldn’t explain to him. He had tried to ask a few people about it, had asked Sebastian in the past if it was something he had experienced before meeting Hanna. Of course, Seb hadn’t been much help when one considered the fact that he and his soulmate had met in their shared childhood. 

It wasn’t something he could ask either of his parents, both admitting long ago that they weren’t destined for one another and that they had never had a connection with their true soulmates, which allowed them to willingly marry each other. Victoria had met her soulmate and now husband when they were young as well, so she would be of no help. 

He was almost embarrassed to ask Christian, or any other older person who had already met their soulmate. He was a grown man, he could literally just google it if he wanted to, but what exactly would he type in? 

What is that weird yearning feeling I get every now and then, out of the blue, in random buildings or random cities? 

Max was almost positive the answer would be ‘allergies’ or ‘hunger’. He figured that maybe it was soulmate related, it would make sense, but it wasn’t a feeling he had often. It wouldn’t make sense to only yearn so heavily for your soulmate in certain areas. 

It was always the strongest when he felt like he was truly connecting with you. He noticed it for the first time when both of you had touched yourselves to the sound of the other, egging one another on, saying exactly what the both of you know the other wanted to hear. Max couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed that time with you, how intimate it was, how much he craved to be the one making you moan and whimper. 

The feeling always grew after that, the yearning for the other person, the desire to have you there with him, the desire to have you underneath him after a night of celebration, the desire to have you wrapped in his arms, the desire to send you an unnecessary bouquet of flowers... if he could just figure out who you were, all of that would be possible.  

But the yearning today was different. It was like his body was trying to tell him he needed to go somewhere, trying to encourage him to walk down halls he didn’t usually walk down, or trying to push him in directions that made no sense.  

“You gonna tell me why you’re thinking of Max Verstappen so much today, and why you’re thinking so much about his pretty blue eyes?” 

He could feel the involuntary smile reach his lips when he heard your soft laugh. He really tried not to be someone who was smitten with a person he had never met, but he couldn’t deny that he was in love with you, likely had been since the both of you were young.  

You were the one constant in his life, the one person he could always turn to when he needed someone. You listened to all his ranting, dealt with hours upon hours of ‘Maxsplaining’, dealt with unnecessary outbursts and temper tantrums, but you never complained about it. You always eagerly pushed for him to continue, asking him more and more questions, prompting him out of his head and prompting him to get over whatever frustration had pushed him over the edge that day.  

“If you must know. I’m at the Monza Grand Prix, and I had to get away from all the Ferrari fans for a bit, pretty sure they were going to blow my ear drums. Max Verstappen’s name is everywhere, so I, of course, had to internally acknowledge his attractiveness while grimacing at his name in front of me.” 

Max felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. You were here? In Italy? At the Monza Grand Prix? The same place where he was, at this very moment, at this very second?  

He could tell you were waiting for a response from him to your words. It was like he could sense the raise of your eyebrows from the silence that emitted between your connection.  

“You’re in Monza?” He questioned eagerly, his hands sweating as he waited for a response 

“Yes sir, just about to try and force myself to go find my friends and head back to the paddock so I can avoid getting trampled by any other Ferrari fans.” 

Max knew almost instantly that, that had to be what the feeling was. The yearning. You were close by, and his side of the soulmate connection knew it.  

He had tried to tell you who he was before, had tried to explain it to you in words that the connection wouldn’t muffle or meddle with. It never worked. Any time he tried to explain to you who he was, or what he did for a living, it was like his brain malfunctioned and he had to hotwire it back on. 

You had told him the same thing happened to you every time you tried to explain to him who you were, or the easiest ways to find you in the real world. Every time either of you tried, it was like the connection was shutting it down. 

Daniel had told him it was likely the bond, telling him it wasn’t the time yet, that the both of you had to wait until the bond was steady and ready for you to finally meet in person. Max had never believed it, until right now.  

You had never been able to tell him exactly where you were before, at least, not that he can ever remember. You had told him the things you were doing in the past, had told him the people you were spending time with, even that you were getting dinner in certain districts. Any time you had tried to tell him the restaurant, or the city even, the connection would malfunction. 

But you were just mentally able to tell him where you were, you were internally able to tell him where you were going in the place that you currently were. 

“I’m... I’m in Monza too. At the Grand Prix, I mean.” 

He could almost feel the instant shock and excitement at his words. Before he or you could get the chance to say anything else, he heard GP calling for him, the annoyed expression on his face an indication that he had been looking for Max for far longer than he actually wanted to be.  

“I have to get back to work. Please, don’t leave before you hear from me again. Maybe this is a sign.” 

You could practically feel the shock coursing through your body. Both of you were here. In Monza. At the Grand Prix. At the same time, together... but not together? You tried to contain the giddiness at his words, a silent hum in acknowledgement when he told you not to leave. How could you leave? Especially now that you knew he was here? And that he was working? 

It gave you some indication as to why he was always so busy on Saturdays and Sundays, if he worked for a Formula 1 team, or for Formula 1 in itself. Their biggest days of the week were the weekends, especially during race weeks. It made sense why he could never talk on those days of the week, or why he always seemed so happy or moody on Sundays. 

You couldn’t believe that both of you were able to tell each other where the other was, that the connection finally allowed you to give that little tidbit of important information to the other. Maybe it finally was time, maybe the connection was finally allowing you to meet the one person you had been yearning for, even if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t.  

The text message to your friends asking where they were garnered a response, which prompted you out of your train of thought. Letting them know that you were on your way to their location, your brain moved back to the previous thought your mind was on. He was here, like truly here. Within the same 10 kilometers as you. Probably the closest either of you had ever been to each other before. 

Your friends greeted you eagerly when you finally found them, excitably telling you all about the drivers they had met, how Alex Albon even recognized two of them from previous Grand Prix and how they just knew Charles Leclerc was going to win today because the Tifosi were going crazy and how could you not win with all that support screaming for you? 

Nodding along with a smile on your face, you had an inkling they were wrong. Max Verstappen was likely going to get his tenth win in a row, but you weren’t going to say that to them.  

The drivers parade went by faster than you were expecting, before you knew it, the cars and their drivers were lining up in their respective places along the grid. Your friends eagerly itching for a better view of the upcoming race. You couldn’t even put the effort in to pay attention, wondering where he was right now.  

Was he working? Was he one of the mechanics? One of the pit crew, eagerly waiting for their driver to pull into their spot? One of the engineers, hoping their instructions and their drivers did as they were supposed to? You tried not to let your mind wander to the other possibility, but it was hard not to. 

What if he was one of the drivers? One of the 20 men now pushing themselves around the track at the fastest speed their car could take them? You tried not to stay on that thought too long, but your mind seemed to wander back to it.  

It would make sense, really. Whoever he is, he had been karting since he was a boy. His father had been unnecessarily forceful with him about it, always pushing him even when he was down, telling him that champions didn’t cry and that if he wanted to win everything one day, he had to act like he wanted to.  

He always made it seem like he was on top of the world on Sundays, like everything he ever wanted had happened that day. Would a mechanic, or an engineer, or someone from the pit crew consistently have that level of elation on Sundays?  

You knew it was possible, if they were working for a winning team, or a winning driver, and that driver was making their lives as easy as possible, then you knew it was definitely a possibility. You just couldn’t shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was one of the drivers. 

The crowd was cheering as eagerly as they possibly could, Verstappen had overtaken Sainz three laps prior after the Spainard had led for 15 laps straight. The Tifosi were relentless though, cheering as loud as they could for their two drivers. Your friends had resigned themselves to the fact that Verstappen was getting his tenth win in a row, which was slowly coming closer and closer as the time ticked down. 

It felt like time was zooming by; the minutes on the clock trickling down as the stadium waited for that last lap to start. Sainz was battling to keep Leclerc in fourth, doing everything in his power to keep the third podium spot he had rightfully earned. 

The checkered flag waved as the Red Bull car of Max Verstappen passed the finish line, a simultaneous cheer erupting within the crowd when the two red Ferrari’s passed the line with barely a second apart. 

That feeling inside of you, the yearning, it had been getting stronger and stronger throughout the race. Strong enough that you had to rub at your chest with a grimace more than once, ignoring the signs that obviously your soul connection was trying to give to you.  

The television in front of you showed Max Verstappen on the top of his car, both hands and 10 fingers up as he stared at the moving camera, an obvious celebration beginning as he ran towards his team. Verstappen jumped at them, right as you heard his voice in your head. 

“Where are you right now? I want to see you. I need to see you.” 

He sounded out of breath, but elated, as per usual on a Sunday. Must work for Red Bull then, you thought to yourself. 

“I don’t really know how to explain where I am, I’m in the Paddock Club with my friends.”  

Turning away from the screen, you tried to focus on the words coming through the connection. 

“Come to the area where you can go towards the garages, I’ll have someone tell security to let you in. What are you wearing? I don’t think you’ll be able to tell me your name yet, and I don’t want to risk fucking this up.” 

You had absolutely no clue how to find the area he was describing to you, explaining to him that you didn’t spend most of your time at Grand Prix’s unlike someone, apparently. All he did was laugh joyfully, explaining to you in simpler terms how to get to where he wanted you to go. 

“I have to go do a few more things, but just wait for me, okay? I’ll come to find you, the moment I’m done. I swear.” 

“I’ve waited for years; I think I can wait a few minutes more.” 

He didn’t verbally respond, but you could still feel the happiness, the sense of something you could only describe as adoration come through the connection before he shut it off again. It was obvious he had commitments, but it was disheartening knowing you still had to wait a few more minutes, that he wouldn’t be there waiting for you, behind whatever security guard you were going to have to verbally grapple with to be let behind the barricades. 

All you told your friends when you left was you had to go make a call, and that it may take a few minutes. They tried to argue with you, telling you the drivers were just about to do their post-race interviews and that it was always one of the best parts, but you simply brushed them off, eager to get to where you needed to be. 

It didn’t take you long to find where he had told you to go, his explanations as thorough and necessary as they usually were. Before you could even get a word out to the security guard, a tall brunette in a Red Bull shirt lightly tapped your shoulder and gestured for you to follow her, flashing her entry pass at the guard and pulling you along. 

“I’m Liv. I work in PR with Red Bull; I was told to wait for you. Sorry for just like... pulling you along. No one really gave me any explanation, just that I was told to look out for someone wearing the exact same outfit you are, and that it had something to do with a soulmate thing and I couldn’t get involved or ask questions.” 

“This pass will get you in and out of pretty much wherever you need to be in the Red Bull garage and areas nearby,” the brunette rambled on as the both of you walked, pulling a second entry pass from her back pocket to give to you. 

Both of you stopped in front of what only could be the hospitality lounge, if the plethora of food and drinks were any indication. You didn’t necessarily know where to go, or where to stand, so you looked back over at the brunette with confusion evident in your eyes. 

“Just wait here! He shouldn’t be long. Feel free to snack, or make yourself a tea, or you know... drink whatever really. I have to get back to work. Just like, don’t leave. I’ll probably get in trouble for that. Anyways, bye! Good luck!”  

Not giving you the chance to respond, Liv, as you learned previously, turned and basically ran out of the room. You were left alone in the hospitality area, everyone from Red Bull obviously still celebrating Max Verstappen’s tenth win in a row. 

You didn’t know what to do with yourself, deciding to sit down on one of the couches being the only real option you could decipher. The television was on low, the interviewer speaking to Sainz, Perez, and Verstappen. 

“You look eager to get out of here, Max. Big celebration planned for your tenth straight win?” 

The Dutchman chuckled, a cocky grin prominent on his face, “I have something I have to do after this, of course, though, not the celebration right away. I’m sure the team has a celebration planned, but it’s a bit arrogant of me to be involved in my own celebration party planning, no?” 

The interviewer laughed in response; you simply cocked your head at his words. Ironic that Max Verstappen would call himself arrogant, just hours after you had told him how arrogant you found Verstappen.

A few more questions zoomed by; your own thoughts preoccupied by the idea that your soulmate could be coming towards the room at any minute. The feeling in your chest, in your body as a whole, had grown substantially again since you sat down. What you didn’t notice was him grabbing his chest at the same time you did, rubbing it with a grimace as the yearning grew and grew. 

It didn’t take long for the interview to end, the television going back to the reporters as the drivers evidently went to go do whatever it is they do after their post-race interviews. 

You could hear someone walking down the hallway, which was strange considering how busy the Red Bull garage had to be right now. The steps grew louder as they got closer and closer to the room you were in, the door slamming open being the only thing to pull you out of your thoughts as you spun around. 

Making direct eye contact with your soulmate for the first time was exactly how everyone described it. It was instant, the feeling that seated itself inside your heart, inside your mind. It felt like you were whole, like everything you had done in the past 24 hours, let alone the past 10 years, had led you to this exact moment. 

You subconsciously moved off the couch, stepping in the direction of the man that was now eyeing your every move. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind, whether he was happy, disheartened, you didn’t know. 

He stepped in your direction, just as you put another foot towards him. You could see the corners of his lips turning up, a smile starting to edge itself onto his cheeks.  

“I can’t believe you’re really here. In front of me. Like, a real person.” 

It was the same voice that you’ve heard in your head for years, except the words were coming from the mouth of the man in front of you, coming from the mouth of the man with the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen. 

You barely had time to process anything before he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you directly into his chest as you wrapped your own arms around his body.  

He was real. Everything you had yearned for, for years was real, and Max was right there, holding you in his arms as he pressed his lips against the crown of your head, not wanting to let you go. 

Max could barely contain his eagerness as he basically sprinted down the hall of the Red Bull garage after the end of the interview. Olivia had told him where she had brought you, telling you to wait in the hospitality lounge and that he’d be there to see you as quickly as he could get out. 

He couldn’t believe that you were really there. After spending years of talking to an invisible force inside his head, years of having a constant companion who he could turn to for internal comfort, you were barely seconds away from him. 

Max didn’t hesitate to throw the door of the lounge open, making eye contact with you just a second later. 

Everyone was right, the feeling you get when you finally meet your soulmate, the person that’s supposed to complete you in the best of ways. It was instant love, instant happiness, a feeling better than any win he had ever accomplished, a feeling that could barely be explained in one million words.  

He knew right then that he loved you, and when you smiled at him, he knew you knew it too.  

i am obsessed with the soulmate trope so this obviously got out of hand and way more descriptive than i intended. im hoping you all love it as much as i loved writing it!! let me know what you think

my requests are also open :)

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[sports-on-sundays]

people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

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[thebearchives]

miss you so | DR3

PAIR. daniel ricciardo x model!reader

SUMM. all good things must come to an end, and unfortunately, you and daniel weren’t an exception.

TYPE. smau (fc: anne hathaway)

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[harianaswhore]

⟡ formula 1 ⟡

NONE OF THESE ARE WRITTEN BY ME

ᵐʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᶜˢ

:: ᶠⁱᶜ ʳᵉᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ::

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[chilling-seavey]

Enchanté (gr63)

↳ A/N Desperate to get back into posting my writing on here. Please take this 25,000 words of straight filth as my first solo George writing on my blog. How the times have changed. How I have grown.

↳ Summary: On a brief business trip to Paris, you find yourself enamoured with this handsome stranger and the fleeting promises he offers in the city of love

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Stranger!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 24.5k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, basically pwp, one night stand, use of explicit language, oral (f & m receiving), rimming, exhibitionism, minor anal play, choking, spitting, spanking, some biting, squirting, overstimulation, use of derogatory names (slut etc.), George has a (very skilled) dirty fucking mouth, unprotected sex (and unprotected creampie...whoops)

The crowded Parisian bar was riddled with tourists who strived pathetically to appear as locals. From your spot at the bartop, you had a view of the classy interior that surrounded you and you found yourself people watching over your icy alcoholic drink for some entertainment that wasn’t the lively jazz music that filled the quaint venue. Your black heels hooked effortlessly on the foot rest of the leather bar stool and you haphazardly stirred your straw around your glass as your gaze passed over the crowd aimlessly before you turned to look over your other shoulder. 

You weren’t overly familiar with traveling by yourself but when your company offered you an all expenses paid trip to Paris to network for the firm, you could never dream of declining. It had only been for a long weekend and as Saturday night was progressing, the realization that your short-lived trip to Europe was coming to a close was settling on your conscience. Although a little lonely, you had no complaints, and you decided to locate a bar to celebrate a successful business trip with a well deserved drink or two. 

When the bartender walked up to you on the opposite side of the bar top, you glanced up at him just as he set another glass in front of you. Before you could remind him that you didn’t order another, he gestured farther down the bar and told you politely, “From that gentleman.”

He disappeared and you followed where he had pointed to locate the stranger who had bought you another drink. The empty stools that lingered between you felt almost meant to be as the vast expanse of bar made the otherwise crowded place feel like it was only you present. Said gentleman sent you a warm smile as he lounged meticulously on his own barstool, nursing an icy drink of his own, with his light hair styled in neat perfection and his collared shirt ironed crisply and tucked into slacks. You felt silly that you hadn’t noticed him before - his handsome good looks were enough to take your breath away for a moment - but maybe the intrigue of pathetic strangers pitched more entertainment than anything else. 

You sent him a polite smile back and a silent slight nod in appreciation as you swapped out your nearly empty glass for the fresh one. He took that as his invitation and stood from his stool to make his way over to you and you looked away to keep from staring at him as he approached. 

When he was beside you, he spoke gently, his voice smooth and rich in an accent that was too British to be a local, “Hope that wasn’t too forward of me…sending a beautiful stranger a drink from down the bar.”

You allowed yourself to look up at him with a polite smile, finding yourself warm under his handsome gaze, and you replied, “Not at all. I’m flattered.”

He gestured to the free stool to your right, “May I?”

You nodded and permitted him to join you. 

Once he sat and set his own drink down on the bar, he offered his hand out to you, introducing himself as George. You politely took his handshake and introduced yourself in return, to which he let his hand linger in yours for a moment as a friendly smile pricked at his lips. 

“What brings you to Paris?” he inquired.

He was facing towards you on the stool as if in a subconscious way of telling you that you had his full attention. You nursed the icy glass in your hand and let the cold condensation seep into your clammy palm as you told him about your business trip and your luxury design firm that paid for most of it. He was tickled impressed by that and pressed on about how the city was treating you and how you were managing there for the weekend. 

“You’re talking to me like a local, but you don’t sound French.” you noted aloud, “So might I ask what brings you to Paris?”

George smiled faintly to the bar top as if he had been caught red handed, but he played it off with a modest shrug before looking back at you and answering your question, “Work, too. I’ve been here a few weeks just taking in the sights and letting the feel of the city feed my creativity.”

“Are you an artist?” you asked. 

“More of an appreciator.” he stepped over the question before turning the conversation back to you, “Have you been able to see much outside of your tight schedule this weekend?”

You didn’t press him further about his personal life but you didn’t mind sharing some of yours, “A little, but not as much as I’d have hoped. It’s my last night so I’m afraid I might have to book a separate trip to see the sights like a real tourist.”

“Too bad.”

“I know. Then I’d have to pay for the trip myself and no one has that kind of money.”

“Do they not?”

You sent him a pointed gaze but his borderline ignorant statement was countered by his wide teasing smile. 

He sipped his drink. You sipped yours. 

Despite the fact that you were virtually strangers, you found yourself trusting him and you didn’t turn away his questions about you or your life even when he stepped around your inquiries in return. You spoke about art and fashion and design and shared thoughts on recent events and fads. His answers seemed to be shallow and simple but he pressed for depth with yours, luring you into more descriptions of architecture and design and artwork that spoke to you. He was hanging onto your every word, resting on his arm on the bar top with his aquamarine eyes staring unwaveringly into yours like there was no one else in the room. 

Who was this handsome stranger and why was his attention sending butterflies through your stomach?

You found yourselves wasting an hour in that bar with the strangers you once watched fading into the background noise of the jazz music that surrounded you. After a weekend alone, it felt nice to have company and you made sure to tell him just that amidst a momentary lull in your conversation. 

George gave you a smile and dusted his fingertips over your arm, sending shivers up your spine, as he said, “Can I take you to see some sights before you have to leave?”

“It’s kind of late for things to be open, is it not?”

“Not when you know your way around.” he countered. 

You contemplated his offer since he was truly still a stranger, but you were in the city of love and he seemed respectful enough and you found yourself meeting his smile with your own, “Alright.”

George stood from his bar stool and took his wallet from his back pocket to slide his credit card over the counter towards the bartender. He then offered out his hand to you, “Shall we?”

You carefully set your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours so naturally, and you replied softly, “We shall.” 

He helped you off the bar stool and the bartender returned his card to him and George thanked him, pocketed the card, and then gestured you towards the entrance of the bar. 

“I haven’t paid yet.” you protested quietly. 

“I paid for you.” George set his hand faintly on the small of your back, “Now come on.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” you replied bashfully as you made your way through the narrow bar and the crowds of late night patrons towards the door. “I wasn’t-”

“My pleasure.” he insisted, cutting you off with a smile. 

He opened the door for you and you stepped outside into the crisp spring air. George was close behind you and soon you were walking side by side down the Paris sidewalks and passing many closed storefronts and lively nightlife restaurants and bars that lined the streets. The dark sky above was polluted with the city light but you still inhaled the lingering scent of French pastries and wines that made up the city of culture and dreams. You habitually tucked your arms over your chest as you walked, trying to keep yourself in that moment.

“Cold?” George asked. 

“No. I’m okay.” you replied. 

“I’d offer a jacket but I don’t have one on me either.” he chuckled. 

You smiled to the cobblestones for a moment.

Your footsteps fell in steady time against the quiet streets together, walking among the gorgeous architecture side by side with the warmth of alcohol in your veins. With your arms still crossed over your chest, you looked over at George again to speak, “Do I get to know where you’re taking me?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he countered. 

“Well, knowing that I have said yes to going out with some stranger in the middle of the night in a strange city…I wouldn’t be surprised if this was just giving you a perfect excuse to kill me.”

George replied without missing a beat, “You’re too pretty to kill.”

“Oh,” you scoffed, “thanks, I think.” 

You looked at each other from equal heights and you shared tipsy little smiles and he bumped your arm playfully so you knew he was teasing. 

He led the way through the historic streets of Paris and down a few blocks until you reached a spacious green area and he stepped off the path and onto the grass, helping you step over the short rope fence that divided the sidewalk from the gardens. You found thrill in the feeling of his hand in yours so you didn’t pull away, even once you were safely stable on the grass alongside him. George let you hold his hand and his other slid into the pocket of his trousers as you walked side by side slowly. 

The city felt so vacant and yet so full of life all in the same. It was dreamy. George tilted his head back to breathe in the nighttime air and he let it out with a hearty sigh. 

“Nothing like being buzzed while walking through the streets of Paris to make you really feel alive.” he announced. 

You giggled softly and nudged yourself against his arm, finding yourself staying warm from his presence and from the alcohol that had taken to your system, “Very true.”

Straight ahead, at the far end of the lengthy green space you strolled down, the Eiffel Tower stood out from the inky night sky backdrop out in its trims of gold lights and iron. It was nearly breathtaking and you felt the excitement in your chest as you mentally checked a sight off your bucket list. You had only seen it in passing on your short and extremely busy trip to Paris so this was your first time actually having a chance to admire the beauty of its architecture. Better late than never. 

George led you to a nearby bench that faced towards the monumental structure and, without letting go of your hand, you took a seat together. The silence was peaceful between you for a few minutes, both of you just staring up at the Eiffel Tower glittering before you, just living in the moment with a friendly stranger at your side. A few people strolled past in the dark, making their way to their own late night destinations and a couple groups even stopped for pictures of the Tower before continuing on. Seemed as though you were the only two willing to sit and appreciate the man-made beauty with your eyes rather than your cell phones.

When George's hand left yours, you glanced over at him just as he draped his arm over the back of the bench behind you without tearing his eyes away from the beauty of world-renowned architecture. But at the feeling of your eyes on him, he looked at you too, sharing a calm smile through the peaceful night and you naturally felt yourself ease back into the curve of his arm. 

“This okay?” you asked softly, hesitantly. 

“Yeah.” George answered just as gently. “What do you think of our destination?”

You tore your eyes away from his handsome face to look up to the Eiffel Tower again and, with a small smile, you responded, “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s usually so crowded during the day…it’s nice to come past at night and just take a second to sit with your thoughts.”

“I was worried I’d miss my chance to see it.” you confessed. 

“Good thing you chose to go drinking instead then.” George teased. 

You scrunched up your nose with a faint giggle, “Shush.”

He lifted his hand from the bench and gently brushed his fingers through your hair before setting his arm properly around your shoulders. You could feel the shivers down your spine from more than just the chilly night time breeze and you felt your attention drawing to his gaze again. Had he always been that close? Maybe you should have figured he would be since you had gladly leaned into him when you sat down but now you were much more attuned to the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body. He was no more than a stranger to you but there was a pull in your chest to learn more, to figure him out. 

“Why don’t you talk about yourself?” you asked him quietly. 

He shrugged and glanced back towards the Eiffel Tower, “I don’t think there’s much to say. I’d much rather listen to you than drone on about myself…you’re much more interesting.”

He looked back at you with a calm smile.

You scoffed faintly, “I highly doubt that.”

“Miss big fancy designer on her all-expenses-paid international trips. No time for sightseeing but still has an unwavering appreciation for art and literature and everything good in the world. Everything that is just as beautiful as she is.”

His simple explanation of you had you licking away your bashful smile and looking away from him as if needing to hide your blush from the revealing light of the nearby street lamp. He danced his fingertips over your shoulder which sent shivers down your arm and you forced yourself to look back at him. 

“I wanna know more about you, mister knows his way around Paris. Buying tourists drinks in bars and sweet talking his way through intelligent conversation about fashion and art and all the greats. I wanna know why no one has scooped you up yet.”

George shrugged with a faint smile on his lips, “I dunno. No one’s really caught my interest. I’m not much of the settle down type. I like to have the freedom to roam. Today, Paris. Maybe tomorrow; Milan. Athens. Monaco.” 

“Ah, not a man to be tied down, are you?” you teased lightly. 

“I’m 26. I have lots of time.”

“I envy that mindset.”

“You don’t think the same? Taking these years to focus on your career and travel? It seems you do.”

“That’s true.” you agreed, lolling your head forward again to admire the twinkling Eiffel Towel in front of you, “I just sometimes crave to be craved, y’know? Work and travel can only satisfy so much.”

“Love?”

“Yes, but even less than that I’d be willing to have. No one has ever really taken an interest in me despite my best efforts. I want to be one of those summer-fling, no strings attached, live in the moment kind of girls but…I guess that is not me. Not written in my cards.”

You weren’t looking at him but you could feel him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. It felt weird to confess such things to a stranger of all people but at the same time, you would likely never see him again so what did it matter. His fingers scratched gently over your shoulder and that same arm gave you a little squeeze. 

“You cannot be telling me right now that no guy has tried to get with you.” he spoke in near disbelief. 

You looked over at him again, your body resting so close against his side, and you answered honestly, “Nope. And believe it or not, you were the first guy ever to buy me a drink like that.”

“Well, I’m damn proud of it then. I don’t shy away from gorgeous women…unlike clearly every single guy from where you’re from.” 

You set your hand on his thigh with a soft, “You flatter me.” 

He set his opposite hand on top of yours, “You…are beautiful.” 

One look into his eyes and your heart was thudding hard in your chest with a warmth that had to be more than just the alcohol in your system. You didn’t want to look away from him - not even to gaze upon the beauty of the Eiffel Tower just beyond. Instead, you kept your eyes on his and silently took in every inch of his handsome face as if to engrave it into a monument of your very own in your mind. You couldn’t help but worry about the night coming to an end, already getting so ahead of yourself. 

George lifted his hand from yours on his lap to dust his fingers over your cheek and he tucked some of your loose strands of hair behind your ear in the late night breeze. You shivered at his ghostly touch and your eyelids fluttered when he caressed your jaw and held your face in his warm palm for a fleeting moment. But your eyes stayed locked through the moonlit night, illuminated by the sparkling Eiffel Tower nearby, and when he licked his lips briefly, your insides flip flopped in giddy anticipation. 

“This okay?” he asked.

“Mhm.” you hummed contentedly without tearing your gaze away from his perfectly plump lips. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted to kiss them until that very moment. 

George's thumb gently dusted over your cheek and he guided you in slowly to let his nose bump testingly against yours, causing you to instinctively turn your face towards his a little more. Your breath shuttered slightly in your chest with your hand resting motionless on his thigh, not wanting to move an inch in case you scared him off; this was too good to be true. 

But in seconds, without hesitation, his arm around your shoulders pulled you closer just as his lips captured yours in a slow kiss by the guidance of his warm hand on your chin. Despite the cliché call for a swell of music and fireworks going off behind the Eiffel Tower, the silence that filled the Parisian streets in your reality rang in your ears with absolute perfection. You both stayed motionless for a few seconds, testing the waters, until George took the initiative to part your lips with his own and your head tilted just enough to go in for a deeper kiss. 

With your hand still on his thigh, your other lifted up to rest on the back of his neck just to make sure he wasn’t going to move away any time soon. He certainly wasn’t planning on it, and the way he kissed you was proof of that. His lips were so pillow soft against yours and they caused the most beautiful butterflies to erupt in your stomach and right down between your legs from only the gentlest kiss. He was so tender with it like he was almost nervous you were going to break at the first touch but then it was your turn to take initiative and you ghosted your tongue along his bottom lip. 

French kissing in Paris. Shamelessly, you mentally checked it off your bucket list once his tongue met yours. 

In the wide open greenery surrounding the illuminated Eiffel Tower, you sat together on a bench without a care in the world, letting the night around you swallow up your public display of affection. It was so out of character for you but it was thrilling all the same and you swore you could have stayed there all night just like that. He kissed you slowly and sensually, his lips fitting so effortlessly with yours and his tongue teasing against yours just the slightest amount. 

George gently took his hand from your face and set it blindly on your lap, sliding his warm palm over the hem of your tight pencil skirt and the outside of your thigh without taking his lips from yours for more than a second. Your body tried to arch against him from your spot at his side with his arm around your shoulders and you could feel him clutch you a little closer under his grasp, tilting his head to the other side for a change of pace through your kisses. 

You could taste the remanence of alcohol on his tongue as you licked your way deeper into his mouth, your fingers holding possessively to the back of his neck and along the high quality fabric of the collar of his shirt. But he fought back insistently for his control as if he were determined to keep the lead of your passionate French kisses and you would never have dreamt of declining him that. In fact, you found yourself so easily succumbing to him that your heart was racing in your chest and you didn’t want to let him go. 

His hand on your thigh left fire in its wake as he caressed you over the fabric of your skirt and dangerously close to the curve of your waist and your ass. In return, you slid your hand farther along the inseam of his slacks, earning a soft moan from his mouth into yours that you swore was the equivalent of angels singing. You couldn’t help but kiss him harder, desperate to taste more of him and those handsome sounds that you prided yourself on the ability to lure from his throat. 

When George started to pull away from your kiss, you leaned after him to chase his kiss for more with a gentle pull to the back of his neck to get him closer. His low chuckle fell against your cheek as he refused your kiss and you settled for a dusting of your lips across the corner of his mouth and his smooth cheek. He smelt so good, so manly, so fresh, so foreign, and you just had to breathe him in for a second. 

His hand rubbed over your thigh and then up your arm to gently grasp your bicep while he leaned his head back just enough to look you in the eye. Then, he offered with a voice so rich and smooth you felt it in your soul, “I have a complimentary bottle of champagne back at the hotel that won’t drink itself.”

His hotel was only two blocks away and neither of you really spoke on your walk over, and especially not about how you both seemed to walk a little quicker than before either. You were silently surprised by the five star hotel he led you into the lobby of, past doormen and sleek modern marble floors towards the elevators. 

Once you reached the sixth floor, his room was only a few paces down from the elevator bay and he pulled the key card from his wallet and opened the door for you politely. You could feel your heart thudding against your chest and in your ears as if your pathetic inexperience was thrilled with the concept of being ruined by whatever lay behind the closed hotel room door. 

The room itself was modest in size but decorated in modern finishes and furniture that matched the ritzy glamour of contemporary Paris filling the entirety of the well-known Pullman Hotel. He had kept his room generally neat with his suitcase resting closed on the floor beside the desk and only his laptop and a few belongings littering the surface. Just inside the entry to the standard hotel room was a mini bar where said bottle of champagne was resting in a half melted bucket of ice. With the door locked behind you, George stepped over to the bar and grabbed the neck of the green bottle to lift it out of the cold water. 

Your eyes were locked on him in his pink toned button up shirt and flattering slacks and you licked your lips before speaking, “I’m just going to freshen up for a sec.”

George glanced over at you and cracked a polite smile, “Sure. I’ll meet you out on the balcony.”

You smiled right back, “Okay.”

The bathroom was just adjacent to the entry door and you helped yourself, closing the door behind you to take a second to pull yourself together. You had never been so reckless with a stranger before and if the past half hour was any inclination of where this night was leading, you were really facing uncharted territory. But you still wanted it so badly and the faint haze of alcohol in your body was enough to mute your anxieties for a little while, just enough to get you to give into the temptation that pulsed within you. 

You took a moment to stare at yourself in the LED framed mirror and wiped the corners of your eyes free of the smudged eyeliner and mascara after a long day and then you fluffed up your hair a little, trying to buy yourself a few seconds before facing the rest of the night with your handsome stranger. He was waiting for you. 

Across the modest hotel room, past the neatly made king size bed and blue upholstered lounge chair, you could see his silhouette on the balcony through the floor to ceiling windows and sheer curtains. As if drawn to him, you were right away drifting across the carpeted floor to the partially open glass door. George looked up at you when you emerged from inside and he sent you a smile and held out a filled glass of bubbling champagne towards you. 

You thanked him softly with a polite smile of your own and took the long stemmed glass from his hand. Then, your attention was captured by the sparkling lights over the railing and, sure enough, the Eiffel Tower stood tall and proud over the darkened rooftops of the surrounding buildings, in perfect view from the balcony. 

“Holy shit.” you grinned, reaching a hand out to rest on the railing so you could get a proper look to the right about 30 degrees with the famous monument right beside you. It was even closer than when you had sat together in the park and you peered over the edge of the balcony to look down the street to see the looming shadows of where the large iron feet of the tower rested in the tree lined concrete only a block away. 

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” George spoke from a step behind you. 

“Incredible. I don’t even want to know how much this hotel costs per night with a view like this.” 

George chuckled, “Worth it.”

“Seems so.” 

When the initial awe-struck shock of your view tapered off, the two of you sat on the outdoor chaise lounge together with your glasses of champagne. Like he had in the park, George draped his arm around the back of the seat so he could angle himself towards you slightly to engage in conversation as you saw fit. But you were perfectly happy just staring at him for a little bit, finally able to get a good look at him by the illumination of the balcony light above you. He was so gorgeous. You wondered if this was real. 

“Was it okay that I kissed you earlier?” he asked softly, reaching his thumb out from the back of the lounger just a few centimeters to ghost over your shoulder. 

“Yeah. It was really…really okay.” you admitted with a bashful smile. 

George mirrored your expression and then you both sipped your drinks. 

“Haven’t been kissed like that in a while. And especially not by such a handsome stranger.” you said honestly, hoping he couldn’t quite see the pink of your cheeks in the limited light you were both bathed in. Flirting wasn’t necessarily your forté but somehow, your comment had him scooting a little closer. 

“When was the last time you were kissed at all?” he pressed. 

“Over a year or two.” you answered. “Maybe even more than two…”

George’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “That long?”

“Mhm.”

“Certainly didn’t feel like it.”

“You were leading.” you protested softly. 

His fingers raised from the back of the chaise to brush your hair over your shoulder, “And you kept up effortlessly.”

You shared breathy chuckles before you pitched his same question back at him; how long had it been since he was kissed.

“Maybe a month.” he replied as he lifted his glass to his lips as if to hide behind it. 

“Okay.” you scoffed playfully, trying to ignore the feeling that lingered dangerously close to that of jealousy in your chest, “So you’re a handsome art enthusiast who travels wherever he wants thanks to an undisclosed job and hangs out in bars to take tourist ladies back to your hotel room. Starting to see why you don’t feel the need to settle down, mister bachelor.” 

“Hey now.” George tisked, “I’m not a player if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

“Oh no, of course not.” you assured him casually, “I don’t kiss players.”

His lips perked up at the corner and you sipped your drink behind raised brows. 

George’s head cocked to the side slightly, curiously, and he pitched a question to you, “Well, what do you think my intentions were when I invited you back here?”

It was a teasing inquiry that definitely put you on the spot but you had the wit to counter his remarks. You swirled your glass of champagne gently in your hand with an easy response, glancing out across the night covered city, “To try French champagne with a movie-esque view of the Eiffel Tower, of course.”

George stared at you with that sly little smirk, “Mhm.”

“Why?” you glanced back at him innocently, “Was there something else that you had intended from your generous hospitality?” 

You were sure he had shuffled closer when you weren’t looking and you were almost as close together as you were on the bench moments earlier. His index finger twirled through your hair and then the back of it caressed your flushed cheek as he spoke softly, “Just to show you how a real gentleman appreciates a lady as beautiful and as fascinating as you.”

“Oh yeah?” you licked your lips habitually, your gaze drifting between his eyes and his lips, “And how might that be done?”

“C’mere and I’ll show you.” he whispered.

His voice alone had the ability to make your insides twist with lust and you didn’t need to be asked twice before you were leaning in those few extra centimeters to meet him halfway for another kiss. Your lips locked effortlessly as if the practice at the park came in handy and after your first one, he was pulling away just long enough to move in for more. His hand danced around the side of your neck and the pad of his thumb pressed gently to your jaw to guide you into your sensual kisses on the private hotel room balcony. 

You both leaned into it at the same time, tilting heads and parting lips in unison with champagne glasses held forgotten in your hands. His soft moan into your mouth made your pussy throb and you gave him a little hum in reply, peaceful and content and not wanting him to stop. He read your non-verbal language perfectly as his hand cradling your face slid farther around the side of your neck and his fingers pressed in place there to pull you into him. Your free hand reached out to catch yourself on his thigh thanks to his insistence to get you impossibly closer but you gladly kept right up with his lips and his tongue that teased yours. 

The night air felt hot in that moment and yet you didn’t want to stray even a millimeter away from him. In fact, when he tried to take a second to break away from your kiss for a breath, you reached up from his lap to grab his cheeks in your hand and pull his lips back to yours. His chuckle was warm and low against your mouth and you could taste it on your tongue as his pushed back against yours in retaliation. Your kisses were lustful and full of silent desire but they were slow and savouring as if each single kiss had your entire heart and soul put into each one. You sucked on his tongue greedily, earning another pretty groan out of his chest and he nipped at your bottom lip and gave you one more off center kiss before he was dropping his face into your neck. 

Your hand that had taken to his cheeks slid around his shoulder instead and your mouth fell open, peacefully agape, as you stared out towards the Eiffel Tower in the near distance, sparking against the inky night sky, while your handsome stranger kissed up your neck. His lips were so heavenly and your eyes fluttered with bliss as he trailed open mouthed kisses across your tender skin, his hand still secure at the back of your neck, holding you in place. You could feel his warm breath leave shivers in its wake and you bit your lip instinctively as your senses were focused all on him. 

You never knew neck kisses could feel that good and you let him know through soft hums of appreciation and the way your fingers grasped the back of his button up shirt. No one had ever kissed you like that and any hints of nervousness that had once grazed your mind were thrown out the window by his effortless touch. He sucked gently on your supple skin before soothing it with a modest lick and you leaned your head back so he could take the hint to let up from your neck in exchange for your lips again. Gladly accepting, you shared a few more loud sloppy kisses before he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip and gave it a little tug as he pulled away. Side by side on the outdoor chaise lounge, your eyes met in your close proximity, pupils blown wide, and your half-empty champagne glasses were still held in your hands.

George licked his lips and you shifted your hand from the back of his shoulder to trace the shape of them with the pad of your index finger. He spoke to you quietly through your touch, “You said guys don’t really take interest in you…so how far have you actually gone before?”

“Such a salacious thing to ask a lady.” you tisked in mock offense before bringing your hand back to your lap.

“Just trying to set our boundaries for tonight.” he protested with a handsome grin that he licked away.

“I will be comfortable with anything we decide to do.” you answered honestly and almost too easily.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Annoying, isn’t it?” you pushed back at him. “I need a little sense of mystery too. You can’t be the only mysterious stranger here.”

He cocked an eyebrow behind a sip of his drink before answering, “Touché.”

“My experience is limited.” you elaborated slightly, “But I am more than willing to experiment.” 

George swirled his finger around the rim of his glass with his eyes focused all on you as if he were debating his next move. You waited, willing to make him work for it a little, tucked up beside him in the Parisian night with a gentle breeze in your hair. You were sitting so close together that you could smell him and you wanted to completely engulf yourself in him that instant. There must have been something about the French air that just ignited this unfamiliar lust within you. 

But apparently George was of the same mindset, undoubtedly sealed by the steamy kiss you had just shared, because his next question was so blunt that it nearly took the air from your lungs. He asked it softly, gently, with his hand trailing over your shoulder and your collarbones and down the neckline of your blouse, “So you’ve never had cum on your tits before?” 

You stared at how he stared at you, and you replied with a whisper, “I’ve never had cum on anything before, to be honest.”

“Well let’s change that.” he pitched, “You wanna?”

You bit back your smile and nodded without hesitation. 

He leaned forward to set his champagne glass on the outdoor table beside the bucket of melting ice and you rested yours down too, unable to smother the grin that was only growing wider across your face. The moment his glass was out of his hand, George was leaning back against the back of the chaise lounge and starting to unbuckle his belt. You tucked one leg up underneath you so you were facing towards him a bit better and you caressed down the front of his shirt with a gentle hand while leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth and, when he turned his head in your direction, you kissed his lips. 

The sound of his belt buckle clanking faintly as he unpinned it had your insides stirring with lust and as you kissed him like you had only a few seconds before, you reached down to help him out a little. You were both impatient for it and thus you both broke your kiss to look down towards his lap as he finally got his belt undone and you took the initiative to pop the button of his pants and tug down the zipper. His hips flexed up towards your hand naturally with him lounged back on the chaise and his feet flat on the ground, so willing to let you take to him however you saw fit. 

“Did you want me to suck your dick?” you asked softly as if nervous someone was nearby to overhear, with your hand still tucked around the waistband of his pants. 

George stared up at you with sweet blue eyes and a sultry smile to match, “Yeah. If you want to.”

You exchanged a genuine smile with him before you were standing up from the chaise lounge and pitching, “On my knees?”

“However you want, gorgeous.” he answered smoothly. 

You tucked your hair behind your ears and gently scooted the small outdoor table out of the way so you had room to sink to your knees in front of him. The floor of the hotel room balcony was cool and strenuous against your bare knees but your attention was focused on things other than your own personal comfort as you tugged at the waistband of his pants to start to shimmy them down his legs. George shifted slightly to help you take them off and he kicked off his shoes at the same time and discarded both articles to the side, leaving him in only his underwear and his button up shirt. 

Your warm hands slid up his thighs and to his waist, allowing you to lean in towards his lap with your eyes set on the sizable bulge in the front of his underwear. It was almost embarrassing how quickly your mouth was watering and you licked your lips before leaning down to kiss him through the fabric, raising your gaze up to his face when you dropped out your tongue to tease over the shape. With a shaky exhale of anticipation, George brushed his hand through your hair softly to keep it out of your way and didn’t dare to tear his eyes away from you as your gentle hand moved to the front of his underwear and your palm rubbed over him warmly. 

You could feel how hard he was already through the thin material of his briefs and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip lustfully to try and bite back the excited grin that came with the racing of your heart. In fact, you could easily wrap your fingers around the thick shape of his cock and give it a little squeeze just to feel it twitch in response with a soft groan from the man who laid before you. Leaning down towards him, you pressed a slow open mouthed kiss to the kiss of his pelvis that was peeking out from under his underwear and the hem of his shirt before giving him another one right over the Calvin Klein label across the waistband. 

“Didn’t know you were such a fucking tease.” George said quietly, draping his arms across the back of the chaise lounge. 

You smiled up at him proudly before linking your fingers in the sides of his underwear and started to pull them down his thighs, carefully lifting the snug fabric over his hard cock as you released it from the confines. His briefs were dropped haphazardly down his shins and he kicked them to the side to give himself free reign, unable to stop staring at the way you stared at him so wide-eyed and angelic. 

With your hands resting sweetly on his thighs, you were shamelessly gaping at the first hint of masculinity that you had seen in ages and the first one you so desperately wanted to see. You didn’t even realize you could think a cock was gorgeous, but his was. Perfectly shaped with trimmed dark brown hair around the base and down over his balls, you couldn’t stop gawking at him. It naturally rested up against the dip between his pelvis and his thigh from how hard he was, swollen so thick and large that part of you wondered how you were supposed to fit the whole thing in your mouth. And the tip was so pretty and blush pink that you just had to reach out and gingerly dust your fingertip across it, making his cock twitch at your ghostly touch. 

You then wrapped your hand around it to lift it up away from his body and angled it towards your mouth so you could purse your lips and let a thick string of saliva fall onto the head and it dripped down the side. George shuttered slightly and you looked up at his face again just as you dropped out your tongue and licked at the sensitive underside of his pretty pink tip. It was then quickly followed by another precise lick right up the shaft of his cock with your dragging your flat tongue wetly right along his flesh to taste every inch of him. 

Both of you let out soft hums of appreciation at the same time and as George’s lips perked up at the corner at your mirrored responses, you wrapped yours around the head of his dick and slowly sucked on it. His head fell back slightly with a tight groan from his throat at the first feeling of your mouth taking him over and you caressed it with your tongue in messy swirls at the same time. But then you were pulling off him with a wet pop and you tucked your hair behind your ears again before taking hold of the base of his cock again to keep him steady as you sank your mouth down around him. 

Like a true gentleman, your handsome stranger reached down with both hands to gently pull your hair away from your face and over your shoulders and into a snug make-shift ponytail in his grasp. With your hand still holding him steady, you gave him shallow testing motions of your warm wet mouth, making sure to hollow your cheeks on each up stroke to suck on him prettily. 

“God, you’re such a good girl.” George exhaled with that honey rich tone of voice that made your pussy throb under your skirt. 

You moaned around him at his praise and let yourself drool down his cock as you sped up your mouth a little with your hand starting to use your spit as lubrication to stroke him off at the same time. His grasp in your hair followed the motions of your head easily and he peered down at you through lustful eyes as you took his cock in your mouth like it was your day job. 

“You like praise, baby?” he pressed on quietly. 

You lifted up from his lap to look up at him with your hand taking over on his dick in quick pumps as you answered, “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” George smirked softly back at you, his eyebrows raising when you dribbled more spit down onto his cock in your hand without tearing your gaze away from his. 

Then you were sinking your mouth back down around him and taking him in against your tongue through plush drooly lips, matching the pace with your hand until the faint wet rhythmic squelch filled the private hotel balcony. It was hard to believe that even after having him in your mouth, you were still salivating for more. 

George played to that perfectly as he kept holding your hair back in one fist as he spoke down to you in that velvet accent of his, “I know you can be a good girl for me and take more of my cock in your pretty mouth.”

Your eyes nearly rolled at his filthy words and you moaned in acknowledgement around him before gently shaking your head to get yourself deeper. Tears pricked your eyes slightly as you forced yourself farther down on him until the head of his cock was nudging into the tight confines of your throat. You gagged faintly around him but kept yourself bobbing your mouth along the length of his dick steadily until your spit was leaking over your hand and down his balls. 

“That’s it,” he exhaled, “Just like that, baby, fuck.”

George tucked one hand behind his head, looking so handsome in that button up shirt and nothing else, his legs spread on either side of you to give you a spot to kneel with your face in his lap. You slid your free hand up his waist and tucked the hem of his shirt in your thumb so you could push the fabric up and out of the way slightly, only moaning around his cock when you felt the faint arches and valleys of his abs under your palm. You just wanted to give him everything. 

The gags that were forced from your throat only got louder as you pushed yourself onwards and bobbed your head down on him a little faster, thankfully still quiet enough to stay within the open confines of the balcony you were on. Your grasp on his slicked up cock kept in time with your mouth in long twisting strokes, guiding your motions effortlessly. 

“Fuck, baby.” George groaned, “Your mouth feels so fucking good, holy shit.” 

Driven with lustful desire, you pulled off of him with your tongue dragging up the underside of his cock in your wake, and you gasped out of it filthily but still kept your hand around him securely as you pitched your plea, “Can I eat your ass too?”

His eyes nearly popped out of his head at the salacious request that you offered with such an angelic smile but he nodded, “Yes. Yeah, baby, that’s so fucking hot.” 

You grinned up at him and helped him lift his feet up from the ground so his body weight was resting back against the chaise lounge and he let go of your hair so both of his hands could grasp the backs of his knees to keep himself spread for you. You removed your hand from his dick to set both palms on his ass and spread his cheeks open, your heart racing in your chest and your throat as this handsome man laid spread before you, completely at your mercy. 

“Has anyone rimmed you before?” you asked. 

“No. But I’ve been curious.” he answered to the balcony above as if he were almost nervous to look at you. 

“Good.” you leaned down and spit loudly on his perineum, “We’ll each have something new to experience tonight.”

“What’s that saying? What happens in Paris…” George said playfully. 

You shared light laughter.

Then, he asked, “Have you ever rimmed someone before?”

“Nope.” you replied, “But you’re so fucking hot and it made me want to really badly.” 

He couldn’t get another response out before you were leaning in and dragging your flat tongue right over his asshole, smearing your spit right across it and up to his balls. 

“Fuck.” George lifted his head to look down at you.

You sent him a salacious smile from between his legs and slid your palms up the backs of his thighs before leaning in to swirl the tip of your tongue around his tight rim of muscle and you prodded at it gently. His mouth was agape as he stared at you in near awe, watching how you licked and kissed at his asshole until your right hand was reaching up to wrap around his hard cock to lazily jerk him off at the same time. He moaned lowly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to try and keep himself quiet in the open balcony you found yourselves on. 

Your hand around his swollen dick kept pumping him in messy flicks of your wrist angled up towards his abdomen while your tongue swirled and lapped at his asshole to pull another tight groan from his chest. It felt so good to bring him pleasure and you couldn’t help but drop your other hand down to gently grasp his balls in your warm palm, kneading them tenderly, and George’s head fell back against the lounge. 

“Fucking hell.” he exhaled shakily. “God, this feels fucking insane.” 

You giggled sweetly and kissed the doughy flesh of his ass and then gave him one last proper lick before you were rising up onto your knees properly and guiding his cock back into your mouth. He let out a tight grunt at the surprising feeling of your warm wet tongue taking to his aching dick and he heaved his head up from the back of the couch and reached a hand down right away to tangle in your hair again. But you were a step ahead and you were already starting to bob your mouth down around him in sloppy strokes, only made stronger by his little tugs of your head towards his lap that made you choke steady around him.

“I love how you gag when I push it deeper.” he said through his teeth, “Such a good fucking girl.”

You kept your other hand on his balls and cupped them in your palm and squeezed faintly, making his cock twitch against your tongue. You were honestly making a bit of a mess with the tears pricking your eyes and the drool slipping down your chin and over your hands that cradled him lustfully. George’s hand in your hair kept you going a little faster and his feet slipped off the edge of the lounger to rest back on the ground, spread nice and wide for your mouth to take as much of him as possible as his breaths fell heavier into the nighttime air. 

But then he was slowing you down with a, “Fuck, okay, stop a second.”

You pulled off of him right away with a gasp for air, a thick string of saliva breaking away from the head of his cock and it dripped down your chin for you to wipe it away with the back of your hand. He sat himself up a little more from his slouching position and his hand took your place around his dick in those quick pumps. 

“Can you take your shirt off for me?” he asked, although his tone had just the perfect hint of demanding. 

You licked away your grin at what you knew was coming and you hurried to unbutton your blouse in front of him from your knees. It was dropped to the side with his slacks and his shoes and you took the initiative to let your bra join it, too driven by the dangerous combination of lust and alcohol to overthink anything. 

“Fuck, good girl.” he praised with his eyes glued to your chest and his hand keeping strong strokes around his cock. 

You reached up to graze your fingers around your hardened nipples before groping your breasts in your full palms. George groaned lowly and shuffled a little closer to the edge of the chaise lounge, his feet still anchored on the ground with you kneeling prettily between them. His dick in his hand was right in front of you, just below eye level, and you pursed your lips to drip more of your spit onto the pretty pink tip for him to smear in with his secure hand in quick erotic pumps. 

“You’re so fucking filthy.” he whispered strongly, “You’re gonna make me fucking cum.” 

“Please.” you begged with a soft voice, peering up at him behind long lashes as your hands pushed your breasts together, “Please cum on my tits.” 

“Fuck.” George groaned through his teeth, his biceps bulging with how close he was getting himself and the slick sound of his hand pumping his cock was apparent over your shared heavy breaths on the balcony. 

“I’m your good little slut.” you breathed. 

You could literally hear him choke over his next breath but that fact only brought a proud smirk to your face as you watched him succumb to your simply crafted words, his hand tugging faster at his cock with his jaw clenching tightly. 

“Yeah, gimme it.” you whispered, “Cum all over me.” 

In seconds, George’s face was scrunching up and his hand was shuttering on his dick just before he came with a moan that was smothered by his bitten lip. You watched with wide eyes as the first pretty white spurt streaked across your chest as your hands held your breasts together for him, giving him room to paint you in ribbons of creamy white. 

“Oh my God.” you groaned heartily as you stared down at yourself and the mess he made, the last few drops slipping out of the tip and down the shaft of his dick towards his fist. Cheekily, you dropped out your tongue and lapped at the leaking slit at the head of his cock to clean him up a little and to watch how it made him flinch sensitively. 

“Oh my God.” George echoed, his chest rising and falling quickly behind his pretty button up shirt while your eyes met. 

You bit your lip excitedly at the realisation of what had just happened and the lust that had taken to your mind only flowed through you even stronger than before. You leaned up from your knees to push your lips on his in an off centered kiss and George gladly grabbed your cheek in his hand to keep kissing you. Both of you were greedy and sloppy with it without an ounce of politeness in sight as you French kissed overlooking the Parisian night sky and George’s hands ran up your hips and over your bare breasts that were still streaked in dripping cum.

You stood up between his legs without tearing your lips or tongue away from his, only mumbling into his kiss as you held yourself up on his bare thighs, “My pussy is so fucking wet.”

He danced his fingertips down your torso to the waistband of your skirt, “Can I feel?”

“Yeah.” you answered easily into his mouth. 

George’s lips locked with yours again as his hand helped itself up your skirt until it was bunching around your mid-thighs and he could glide his fingers over your panties. Standing between his legs and bent over at the waist towards him, you held his face in your hands to keep kissing him even as he moaned into your mouth at the discovery of the soaked through fabric. 

You didn’t stop him as he gently nudged your wet panties to the side to glide his fingers over your pussy, slicking them up in your warm arousal in taunting back and forth caresses. You shared deep moans into each other’s mouths, trying to stay quiet in the outdoor setting but it was hard when the lust that joined you together was unbearably strong. 

“You’re fucking soaked.” George mumbled into your kiss, rubbing his fingers a little harder between your slick lips. 

You sucked on his tongue as you pulled away from his mouth, offering bravely, “Wanna taste it too?”

He licked his lips behind his obvious smirk, “Yeah.”

You stood up straighter as if preparing to swap spots with him but George had other plans. 

He gestured across the balcony, “Lean forward against the railing.” 

It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. 

While you turned yourself around to face the edge of the balcony and the city of Paris beyond, the sparkling Eiffel Tower to the right of the hotel urged you closer to the railing for an idyllic view. The darkness of the night provided sufficient shadows over your exhibitionist scene on the sixth floor balcony for you to feel too shy from any potential onlookers at street level with you in absolutely nothing from the waist up. George was right up behind you in an instant though with his hands on your body and his lips on your neck, kissing right up under your ear to make you shiver and you reached a hand back to tangle in his hair over your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. 

He had unbuttoned his shirt at some point as you could tell by the feeling of his bare chest pressing against your bare back and the sensation of his warm skin against yours was invigorating. But it wasn’t long before he was kissing down your shoulder and down your spine and sinking to his knees behind you, taking your skirt down with him in his greedy hands. You stepped out of it and let him toss it to the side before his hands were groping the flesh of your ass and he nudged his face right between your cheeks, guarded only by the thin lace of your panties. 

George kissed teasingly over the curve of your cheeks and then sunk his teeth into the fabric of your underwear gently, earning a soft mewl from you as you leaned farther over the railing and he gave them a tug. Then they were coming off next and you were standing naked at the edge of the balcony, guarded only by the night sky and the arch of your body in an attempt to keep yourself guarded behind the railing. George’s large hands pulled at your cheeks to spread you open for his hungry eyes and then he was leaning in and licking right up over your pussy. 

You shuttered with a soft gasp, flinching under the touch of his tongue, and your fingers wrapped around the smooth metal of the railing. He lapped at your pussy lazily for a few seconds, tasting his first indulgence of you until he was sitting back with a moan and a lick to his lips. 

“Fuck, you taste so good.” he breathed, giving your ass a jiggle before he was moving back in. 

You giggled softly through the Parisian night and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you focused all your attention on the feeling of his tongue gliding up between your folds and tasting how you dripped for him. He groaned against your pussy and kept his hands on your ass and your hips to hold you on his face as he parted his pillow soft lips to take more of you in his mouth in greedy suckles. 

Your eyes fluttered as you stared out across the rooftops to the sparkling Eiffel Tower under the sensations of his heavenly mouth on your cunt. Spreading your feet a little farther apart in your heels, you pushed back against his face to earn another hearty moan out of his chest and he gently shook his head to smother himself in your body as he licked you out with a skilled tongue. Your body burned for more and you moved a hand from the railing to reach back and tangle in his hair, pulling his face in where you needed him. George took your guidance and shifted a little lower to flick at your clit, pulling a soft gasp from your throat. 

He took a hand from your hip to slide two fingers in his mouth for a quick second before he was reaching between your legs and rubbing his fingertips over your swollen clit. Your moan was muffled by your bitten lip and you pushed back against his touch, drunk on the feeling of him touching you in all the right spots like he knew you so well. His tongue kept prodding at your pussy and licking up the sweet arousal that leaked out of you by his own mere presence, tasting you with pleasant moans of his own. 

You were trying to be quiet as you faced the city beyond but he certainly wasn’t making it easy. Your hand in his hair ended up making it back to the cool metal railing as you were desperate for something to hold onto to stabilize yourself. In the silence of the night, you mouthed a swear word to the sky and rocked your hips back slowly against his mouth and fingers. George hummed against you and then pulled away with a slurp for more quick flicks of his tongue across your cunt.

But then he was sitting back on his knees slightly to ask you quietly, “Can I put my thumb in your ass?”

Your eyes widened, “Really?”

“If you want it.” he kissed your cheek, fingers still ghosting over your clit as if comfortingly. 

You felt entirely trusting of him and you permitted him with a mumbled, “Okay. Be gentle though.” 

He kissed your hip, “Of course.” 

You heard him suck on his thumb for a moment and then pull it from his lips with a wet pop and then he was spitting loudly onto your asshole. This was so far into uncharted territory for you that you swore your eyes were nearly as wide as saucers as you stared across the city and focused on the twinkling starriness of the Eiffel Tower just to your right. The pad of his thumb swirled faintly around your tight rim of muscle before he was slipping it inside just a little, just down to the first knuckle. 

Then his tongue was on you again, lapping at your pussy eagerly with that added fullness of his thumb that had you biting harder on your bottom lip as the warmth cascaded through your body. It was only helped by his fingers on your clit and the way he rubbed quick precise strokes to the sensitive, swollen bud that eased you into this newfound world of lust you had never had the chance to explore before. 

“This okay?” he asked breathily against your cunt. 

“Yeah.” you answered quickly. 

He chuckled warmly into you and let his tongue do the talking, giving you long full strokes in quick succession that had you legs flinching for a second. You could feel yourself dripping down your inner thighs as the seconds passed, undoubtedly mixed in erotically with his spit as the filthy wet sounds of his mouth grew messier by the second. His cum was slipping down your chest and between your breasts too but what was once a feeling you would have hated was suddenly filled with a new sense of lust that made you feel claimed by him; this handsome stranger whom you trusted all too easily. The moan that fell from your lips was accidental. 

George pulled away from your pussy with a wet slurp and he took his hands back to squeeze your hips before he was dropping out his tongue and licking right up your spine until he reached your neck and his hand tangled in your hair and pulled your head back so he could get his lips on yours. You kissed him gladly, shamelessly throbbing under his obvious dominance, and you reached a hand back to pull him closer by the back of his neck, licking your way into his mouth to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 

Standing together naked on the balcony, your silhouettes stood out against the illuminated hotel room to the Paris horizon, and he was so close to you that you could feel his hard cock pressing against the back of your thigh. Despite his obvious physical urgency, he was a gentleman and he let you pull kisses from his lips until you made the next move. Of course, it didn’t take you long since the arousal in your own bloodstream was driving you wild, and when you broke your kiss and his lips met your neck, you breathed your plea into the Parisian evening, 

“Please fuck me.” 

George’s groan against your neck was shiver worthy and you tangled your fingers in his hair as he kissed up under your ear. 

“Right here.” you added. “Right now. Please fuck me.” 

He nipped at your ear lobe, “Okay…I gotta get a condom.” 

“Just pull out.” you exhaled, pulling his lips back on yours hungrily by your hand at the nape of his neck. 

After sharing a few more feverish kisses, he asked, “You sure?”

“Are you clean?” you asked. 

“Yeah. Of course.” he answered respectfully. 

“Then yeah.” you wiggled your bare ass back against his cock, feeling the way it slipped so easily between your cheeks. Your teeth captured your bottom lip again as your hands fell gently onto the railing and you ground yourself back on him slowly, tauntingly, impatiently. 

George stood up straighter behind you and shuffled up closer, resting his left hand on your shoulder while his right slid the head of his cock along your pussy to collect more of that creamy wetness you were covered in. You arched a little more for him, bending right over until your forearms were balanced parallel across the flat railing and your ass was pressed right up against his body. 

“I can already feel how warm you are just like this.” he mumbled into the nighttime air. 

“So get inside.” you pitched. 

His hand tightened on your shoulder as he took your invitation gladly and carefully slipped the head of his dick inside you. The initial stretch had your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth dropping open at the stinging ache it pushed across your hips but you weren’t going to offer a single complaint. Especially not when his rich moan at his first feeling of your pussy gripping his cock had you set ablaze. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” he exhaled. 

You hung your head with a small whine as he pushed in a little more and both of his hands were at your shoulders before sliding down the curve of your back. You were afraid to speak as if he would be able to hear the quiver in your voice from the way he stretched you open so agonizingly. His palms caressed your hips and up the side of your torso and he gave you a few shallow thrusts. 

“Can I put it all in?” he asked softly. 

You lifted your head up and tried to look back at him over your shoulder in weak surprise, “This isn’t all of it?”

He chuckled, “No. I’m only halfway.” 

“Fuck.” you gaped before turning back to the skyline, “Yeah, gimme it all.” 

You braced yourself on the railing as he sank deeper inside your tight cunt, filling you up snugly until you could feel that aching pressure deep inside you. The soft whimper that fell from your lips when he fit entirely inside you and his skin pressed right up against your ass was involuntary and his hand pressed to your mouth right after. 

“This okay?” he asked against your ear as he leaned over you slightly. 

“Mhm.” you mumbled into his palm. 

“You’re such a good girl.” he praised you lustfully, “Taking every last fucking inch of me with the whole city watching.” 

You moaned quietly against his hand again and he gave you a slow testing thrust that made your eyes roll shut and your fingers tightened on the railing. George’s soft breath against your neck was warm and invigorating and as the strain across your hips faded into more pleasure than pain as your body grew used to it, you found yourself pushing back against him. It encouraged him to thrust into you a little faster, a little harder, and you arched your back a little deeper for him.

“That’s it.” he exhaled, keeping one hand over your mouth with his other grabbing the flesh of your waist to pull you back into his every thrust. “Fuck.”

In only a few seconds, your secret exhibitionist rendezvous on the hotel balcony was growing louder with the wet slap of skin thanks to your own slick arousal and his spit that had slicked you up at the same time, now only made worse by the pleasure he introduced to your body that made you drip down his cock. It was a consistent rhythm of gentle beats, punctuated by his balls hitting your clit at that perfect angle that had you moaning into his hand still clamped over your mouth. 

Your hazy gaze peered over the Paris rooftops and out towards the Eiffel Tower, dizzy with wonder as to how this was real life. It was an erotic movie moment, you were sure. How could a man so glorious as him want to take you back to his hotel like this? You weren’t willing to complain, however. Especially not when his strong strokes had any thoughts tumbling out of your brain and vanishing into thin air right before you. Balanced on your black heels spread shoulder width apart, you were leaning so effortlessly over the railing at its perfect height with that angle that allowed the head of his cock to plunge so precisely into you over and over again. 

“Oh my God, George.” you moaned into his hand, trying to turn away from his restricting palm but he kept a secure grasp over your mouth. So you were stuck muttering against his hand, “Feels so good.”

Your sounds of pleasure pulled a soft grunt from his chest, holding onto you has he fucked you over the hotel railing until you were both huffing with desire for more. But it was overwhelming and addicting and it was getting harder to hold back the moans that were born at the back of your throat, even with his hand covering your mouth. You couldn’t help yourself as you started to get a little loud, struggling to hold back amidst the pleasure he introduced to your body, and soon his hand wasn’t doing much anymore as your moans tumbled over the Parisian rooftops and to the street below. 

“Shh.” George reminded you against your ear, still thrusting away into your pussy just hard enough to keep those steady claps of his skin against yours going. He slipped his index finger past your lips with the rest of his hand still pressed to your mouth and as you sucked on it gladly, he spoke lowly to you, “Keep your voice down. Someone could hear you being a dirty fucking slut for me.”

But, of course, his little ‘threat’ only had you moaning louder with lust around his finger and you greedily dropped your other hand down from the railing to rub at your aching clit. The way your body pulsed around him had him dropping his head back for a moment, mouthing a swear word to the balcony directly above you without faltering for a second. 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, down on street level, there was a recreational park opposite the hotel at which a group of young men were playing soccer. The silence of the night and the vacancy of the street had allowed for the sounds of your attempted secret balcony rendezvous to be carried from the sixth floor and down to the park. One of them spotted you first, pointing up to the balcony to his friends to catch a glimpse of the salacious tourists. One stuck his pinkies in his mouth and whistled loudly, earning the quickly following hollers of his friends in your direction. 

Your attention was pulled from the night sky to the group of young men down below in the park and your eyes widened, “Oh my God.”

You could feel George smirk against your temple, “Wanna put on a fucking show, do you? I told you to be quiet.” 

Now having been found out, George removed his hand from your mouth to wrap around your throat instead and he pulled your head right back so his lips could graze against your ear while his hips shoved hard against yours over and over in quick succession. 

“This okay?” he whispered. 

You nodded, “Uh huh.”

“Yeah? You want me to choke you?”

“Fuck, yeah.” you breathed, staring longingly into his eyes over your shoulder while your fingers kept rubbing messily at your clit. 

George’s eyes darted past you before meeting your gaze again, “They’re fucking watching.” 

“Don’t stop.” you pleaded, keeping your stone grip on the railing. “Please, don’t stop.” 

“You’re so fucking dirty.” he spoke to you through his teeth, tightening his hand around your throat and you whimpered desperately against his lips with how close you were together, your body nearly bouncing on his cock with how strongly he was fucking you over the railing. “You gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck, yes, I wanna cum for you.” you answered obediently, drunk on lust as if the real world were universes away. 

“For me and those men down there watching you get fucked with my cum all over your tits?”

“Yeah.” you whimpered, twitching with pleasure and your heels scuffed across the concrete ground of the balcony. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” George groaned against your cheek, still keeping that steady pace of every thrust into your sopping body. “That’s it, baby, just fucking take it.” 

You could feel your pleasure building and building, trembling inside you with tight warmth that overwhelmed your senses that you didn’t even care about your public standing as you cried out for him euphorically. And he seemed equally enthralled by your desire to be loud for him despite your onlookers, fucking you a little stronger just to help you out a little more with his hand around your throat pulling your lips onto his for a few off-centered kisses. 

“That’s it. Yes!” you squeaked, pulling away from his kiss, “Fuck, I’m cumming!” 

The pleasure that tore through you was unbelievable and your breath caught in your lungs and your pussy gripped right up around him. George’s thrusts stalled for just a second as you tightened up so strongly around him that it was hard for him to move but he recovered quickly and kept fucking you right through your orgasm with hushed praised against your ear. 

You tore your hand from between your legs to join your other on the railing, gasping through the crisp night air as your legs quivered in your heels slightly, “Shit.”

“Good girl, good girl.” George took his hand from your throat to grab two hands of your hips to keep fucking into you, “Stay just like that.”

The feeling of him pulling out had you whimpering and the sound of his hand on his cock replaced it, jerking himself off in a few strokes before he was coming again, right across your ass and a little up your back. His moans were quiet but rich and full of life and your jaw fell slack at the sound like that was enough to finish you off again too. You gave him a little wiggle for emphasis as the warm splatters painted your skin until his hand was resting down against your waist and caressing your hip. 

“That was so good.” you admitted with a bashful smile, resting your face down on your arms that held you up against the railing. 

George leaned down over you and kissed your neck, “Glad you think so.”

“Are they still down there?” you asked in a whisper. 

He glanced over your shoulder down towards the park across the street before answering with a, “Doesn’t look like it.” 

You hummed flatly. He kissed between your shoulder blades. 

“Now what?” you asked. 

“I kinda wanna eat you out some more.” he confessed with his lips ghosting across your back. 

Your eyebrows raised as did your head and you tried to turn to look at him, “Really?”

“If you’re up for continuing what we have just started…unless you have to leave.” George said, leaving another fleeting kiss to your shoulder. 

“I’m all yours.” you answered giddily. 

“Okay,” his voice was smiling, “Then turn around.”

You obeyed and stood up straighter so you could turn to face him and right away his hand was sliding up the side of your neck and he was pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands rested against his torso that was only slightly exposed under his open button up and you greedily danced your fingertips down his abdomen and around to his waist to urge him closer. He smiled against your lips and then he was reaching down to grab you by the backs of your thighs and he hoisted you right off the ground. You shrieked in surprise and you shared laughter into your kisses as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his shoulders and he carried you towards the balcony door. 

Despite the fact that you had already done plenty outside, your entire body felt giddy for more and his obvious desire to give you more was arousing in itself. George helped himself to the hotel room as you clung onto him and once the door was kicked shut behind him, he was dropping you backwards onto the king size bed just inside. Laying naked across the width of the neatly made bed that felt like you were draped across a cloud, you grinned up at him in the sparkling Eiffel Tower lights that leaked in from outside and from the addition of the warm bedside sconces. 

In nothing but that open button up shirt, George dropped to his knees at the side of the bed as if ready to whisper a prayer to you and his hands wrapped around your calves to yank you closer to the edge. With a lick to his lips, he stared down at your glistening pussy with how you were casually spread for him and he dragged two fingers right between your folds, lightly spreading you open for him to drop a thick string of spit right onto you. You were already plenty prepped but it was clear he liked it messy - not to mention the mess of his you were still smeared in over front and back - and you would never dream of complaining. You swore he could do anything to you in that moment and you would take it gladly. 

But at the same time, you were still quite sensitive from your escapades on the balcony so the first touch of his tongue on your pussy had your entire body flinching. He held your thighs back and licked right up from your ass to your clit in one strong solid stripe with his blue eyes finding yours as you gaped down at him from where you were resting back on your forearms against the bed. He licked his smirking lips and turned to leave a few slow wet kisses to your inner thigh before nipping teasingly at the skin and then soothing it with a lick. 

Then he was moving back in towards your pussy and he was lapping at it like a sweet kitten with his warm hands circling your thighs to hold you on his mouth. You whimpered to the ceiling as your head fell back and your fingers behind you grasped onto the tightly pulled duvet. You were just so sensitive that you tried to close up your legs and push yourself away from his mouth with pitchy moans that tumbled from your chest so freely. 

George wasn’t giving up without a fight and he shifted his hands around your thighs in exchange for his arms and he yanked you closer to the edge of the bed to keep you from squirming away, smothering his mouth right up against you and his tongue deep inside you. You gasped hard to the ceiling, nose scrunching up, and you dropped onto your back against the plush bed with a tight groan as your hand tangled in his hair. He ate you out like he had known your body his whole life, finding all the right places with his tongue while his nose brushed and nudged against your clit. 

“Oh s-shit-” you squeaked, desperately trying to push yourself away from his eager mouth with how sensitive you were, the intensity shooting up your spine in shockwaves. 

George pulled away from you with a wet slurp and another kiss to your thigh before he was instructing lowly, “Hold your ankles for me.” 

You easily followed his demands, taking your ankles in your gentle grasp and you wiggled your heels off your feet at the same time so they dropped to the carpeted floor dully. 

“Spread your legs as wide as you can for me and hold them there.”

George spoke like he knew what he was doing so you didn’t question it as you guided your legs out to the sides widely, held in place by your hands around your ankles. 

“Good girl.” he praised, running his hands up your hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze, “You’re such a good listener for me.” 

With his eyes on yours, he leaned back down towards your pussy and left a slow open mouthed kiss right over your clit, leading with his tongue, and you flinched at his ghostly touch. 

“Mm, do you wanna cum again for me, sweetheart?”

His voice was so buttery smooth, you could feel yourself pulse by only his words and he felt it too as his lips pricked into a smile and he took that - and your soft whine - as answer enough. George wrapped one arm around your thigh so he could dust the pad of his thumb over your clit in soft caresses while his tongue lapped at your leaking pussy. 

“Oh my God.” you groaned, tightening your hands around your ankles, “Keep that up and it won’t take me long.” 

“Mhm?” George smirked against you, turning his head slightly so he was almost resting his cheek on the dip of your thigh and your pelvis, still teasing his tongue along the slit of your cunt. Then his fingers were following and they were slicked up in his dripping spit and your warm arousal, sliding over your pussy and between your glistening lips and under his tongue and then he was slowly sinking two inside you. 

Your angelic “ahh” had him hushing you sweetly as he watched his two fingers sink deeper inside of you. His thumb pulled away from your clit and gave your doughy hip another tender squeeze as he praised you honestly, “Good girl, taking my fingers almost as good as you took my cock.”

You hummed in half appreciation, until his tongue was on your clit and you were gasping hard and arching against the bed. His hot breath on your wet skin was shiver worthy but the way his tongue dragged over your most sensitive spot had your eyes rolling. 

He started to thrust his fingers into you shallowly and as he did so, his tongue matched that pace on your clit. Your body rippled with pleasure again and you groaned loudly to the ceiling with your legs held wide for him until your hamstrings were aching. It was easy to hear how wet you were - and how wet he made you - with his fingers thrusting into you like that, nudging against your g-spot dead on with lewd squelches as you soaked his skin and dripped down his hand. His tongue flicked precisely over your clit in that same strong pace, desperate to please you as much as he could. 

You could feel that coil building inside you again and fast, and your chest heaved for breath as you struggled to keep yourself together. It was so much and so fast that you dropped your right hand from your ankle to tangle in his hair again to try and ease him up as you tossed your head back against the bed with a pleasured moan. 

Without that grip on your ankle, your leg naturally tried to close in to shut him out with the intense overwhelm. But George didn’t waste a second and, without faltering, he blindly reached out his left hand, grabbed your ankle, and shoved your leg back himself. Keeping you spread like that was just what he needed as his fingers and his tongue worked at that consistent pace that had you crying out loudly through the hotel room. He could feel you start to pulse around his fingers and he kept going even as his jaw was starting to ache slightly and your wetness was leaking down his hand. 

“Oh my God, I’m cumming!” you sobbed, gripping hard onto his hair as you felt the beginning of that pleasure wash over you fast. “Fuck, George!”

He moaned right up against you, keeping himself going even as you clenched and creamed around his fingers and you tugged at his hair, almost smothering him in your pussy that he took gladly with fingers and tongue. You shuttered through your strong orgasm, crying out his name breathily to the walls as your back arched off the bed and your legs trembled from where they were held wide open in mid-air. 

George pulled away from you with a wet slurp and he, too, was heaving for breath as he stood from the ground at the side of the bed. You lifted your hands up to run through your frazzled hair as your chest rose and fell quickly and you hid your grinning face in your palms. Your legs rested lazily down against the bed with only the slightest quiver to them as you came down from your orgasm. His hands ghosted over your knees and your shins and he stood between your legs almost proudly, staring down at your naked body laid out before him. 

“You sound so fucking beautiful when you’re so vocal like that for me.” George complimented honestly. 

“God, you don’t make it difficult.” you chuckled, finally removing your hands from your face to drop against the mattress above your head. 

“Can I fuck you again?” he asked. 

You bit back your grin in his direction, “Yes, please.” 

“Yeah?” he grinned right back as he finally pulled his collared shirt from his shoulders and dropped it to the ground alongside your heels, leaving him gloriously naked for your hungry eyes to devour. He was already hard again and you shamelessly were staring, naturally spreading your legs for him with that desire to be filled again. George tugged you a little closer to the edge of the bed and then propped his left foot up beside you so he could get nice and close. 

You stayed flat on your back as he dragged the head of his cock between your lips and your wide anticipatory eyes stared up at him lustfully, fingers twisting through the ends of your hair. Then he was pushing into you slowly, moving easier now with how much wetter he made you from your recent orgasms and the familiar size of him that your body had already taken once before. But it still pushed a tight stretch across your hips and you groaned to the ceiling, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as your hands grasped the sheets above your head. 

“Oh my God, you feel so fucking incredible.” you breathed. 

“Uh huh?” he set his hands on the backs of your thighs so your legs were pushed towards your chest and left you on perfect display for him to sink into as deep as he could go. Once his balls pressed against your ass, he was dropping his head forward with a breathy, “Motherfucker.”

With your pussy just teetering off the edge of the bed, you were in the perfect position for him to fuck you how he pleased although his first few strokes were slow and testing and he kept sinking into you with shaky sighs like you were a cup of tea after a long day. But he started to speed up as the seconds passed, as if his natural instinct started to take over, and soon he was thrusting into you properly in strong strokes. 

His foot that was propped up on the edge of the mattress allowed for a bit more leverage and he could get so much deeper that way, easily causing the hotel room to fill with that lewd wet smack of his skin colliding with yours again and again. You swore you could feel it in your stomach, letting him fuck the quiet breathy moans from your chest as your fingers tightened on the sheets above your head and you shut your eyes to focus on that pressure he pushed deep inside you with every snap of his hips. You dropped a hand down to press against your abdomen out of habit, desperate to feel more of him, and the way your palm added to that pressure made you whimper loudly as you stared up at him with a sweet pout. 

With each thrust, you could feel his cock nudge against your insides so strongly under your hand that it was hard to keep your eyes from rolling. You were fucking burning for it. Truly because of this, you had no choice but to reach both arms straight down to grip the edge of the mattress on either side of your body, needing something to hold onto. He wasn’t taking his eyes off yours, like he didn’t want to look at anything else for the rest of his life. Even when he wrapped his right hand around your throat and held your head down against the bed with just the right amount of pressure, he was staring dead into your eyes with his bottom lip between his teeth. He was so handsome that just the sight of his face staring at you like that had you fluttering around him.

You definitely weren’t going to be the first one to break your eye contact even as you struggled to keep yourself composed under his deep consistent strokes. Instead, you offered him the sweetest whimpers he had ever heard, the sounds falling from your pouted lips almost involuntarily at the thanks to his natural skills. The whole world fell away. 

Until he was pulling right out of you which felt like a sudden snap back to reality and you let go of the edge of the mattress to reach for him with a soft, “Give it back.”

“Turn over.” George ordered, licking away the cocky smile on his face that came from your gentle plea. “Hands and knees.”

“Oh my God.” you giggled and rolled over onto your stomach, “Yes, sir.” 

You got your knees under you and George’s hands were on your hips to adjust you where he needed you, pausing to give you a soft smack to your bum in the process. 

“You can slap me harder than that.” you encouraged. 

He tried again, getting a good spank across your ass as you were sitting back on your ankles and bent over at the waist, forearms holding you up on the bed. You looked back at him over your shoulder as he nudged the head of his cock against your pussy but you reached a hand back to grab his wrist, halting him. 

“Spank me like you fucking mean it.” you pressed strongly. 

Your demanding tone seemed to take him by surprise as he stared back at you with wide eyes for a fleeting moment before that arousing lust flashed across his face. He pulled his hand back and slapped it down hard against your ass, the sharp sound echoing through the hotel room and quickly followed by a squeal from you. 

“Yes!” you gasped, quickly cut off by another hit from his full palm, “Fuck, that’s more like it.”

“Holy fuck.” George chuckled lowly as he easily slipped his dick back inside you in one smooth motion and his hand held you down by the back of your neck, “You really don’t seem like such a fucking slut until your clothes come off, huh?” 

With your face held down against the mattress, you could only groan in reply and he gave you another hard spank with his free hand, already blushing a pink handprint against your skin, and right away he was picking up where he left off. You weren’t sure how he was so fucking good at turning you into putty in his hands but the way he fucked you kept your brain from doing too much thinking at all anyway. Your fingers bunched the sheets into your fists on either side of your head, the mattress capturing your moans into muffled sounds, and the hotel room welcomed the lewd clap of his skin against yours. 

George gave you another spank right across the ass before grabbing a snug handful of your flesh as he fucked you over the side of the bed, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust and you couldn’t help yourself but spread your knees a little wider so you could feel more of it. You swore you were drooling into the sheets, toes curling, knuckles turning as white as the duvet, and you habitually tried to arch your back deeper for him. 

“Naughty girl.” he praised strongly, giving you another echo-worthy spank across your ass. “You just bend over so fucking easy for me, don’t you?”

“Uh huh.” you answered with your sounds muffled by the bed. 

When he took his hand from the back of your neck to hold your hips in both hands, you tossed your hair over one shoulder to stay resting with your chest against the bed, trying to peek back at him from the way you were bent over at the waist. It felt so good that you just wanted more and more and you ended up reaching back to grab your ass and spread yourself open for him to hit deeper. 

George slowed down a little in surprise of your action which only made you start to fuck yourself back onto his cock yourself with a desperate whine. He lifted one hand to slip his thumb in his mouth, praising you with a rich groan as he met your little motions with gentle short thrusts of his own, staying nice and deep inside you to keep that burning pressure across your hips. But then he was dropping his hand back down and swirling the moistened pad of his thumb around your asshole before slowly slipping it inside. 

The way your body tensed right up had him hushing you sweetly, even as you cried out his name breathily towards the bed and dropped your palms back down to grip the sheets. With his thumb hooked in your ass, he let his other hand come down hard against your cheek as he started to fuck you steadily. You stretched your arms out in front of you until your fingers could wrap around the opposite edge of the mattress and your forehead rested against the sheets between your arms, allowing you to let the pleasurable moans and gasps be fucked from your throat by his precise thrusts. 

You could only focus on the sounds he made in return; those handsome moans and panted breaths that expressed nothing but pleasure as he drove himself into you again and again. It drove you crazy in the best of ways and you silently prayed he never stop fucking you, raising your gaze to the ceiling as if you were really trying to speak to God. When he pulled his thumb out of your ass again and slapped his hand down hard across your blushing cheek, you didn’t hesitate to use His name in vain either. 

George’s hand in your hair started you and he yanked you right up from the mattress so you were on your knees and your back was to his chest. You barely got your surprised gasp out of your mouth before he was wrapping his hand around your throat and suddenly fucking you so hard that your breath completely froze in your chest for a second. Eyes rolling and head dropping back against his shoulder, you gripped his wrist around your throat with one hand while your other flailed through the air dumbly for a moment as you struggled to find something to grab onto. 

“Fuck!” you finally squeaked out, louder than the erotic clap of his skin against yours in time with his rapid thrusts. 

But only seconds later, he was stopping completely and you were gasping for breath and trying to fuck yourself back on him to get him going again. You could feel his smirk against your cheek and his hot breath on your neck as he asked you outright, “Are you gonna ride my cock like a good little slut now?”

“Yeah.” you exhaled dreamily, sliding your hand up the side of his neck and into the ends of his hair to pull his lips on yours over your shoulder. 

You shared a few sloppy kisses before he was gently pushing you forward and he pulled out of you. Shifting on the bed to let him join you, your hand found its way between your legs and you rubbed impatiently at your pussy and the sensitive ache he left behind. Beautifully naked, George sat himself on the bed and shuffled towards the middle so he could comfortably rest back against the plentiful down pillows in a mostly horizontal position. He patted his thigh and held out a hand to guide you over and you happily tossed a leg over his lap to straddle him.

You weren’t sure how it was possible for him to look even better but the way he stared back up at you while you were on top of him was nothing less than thrilling. George’s hands slid up your thighs and over your hips and you reached between you to angle his dick up against your leaking pussy, easily able to sink down on him until your ass met his thighs. You shared breathy sighs in response and your palms rested flat against his chest to anchor yourself. 

“Fuck, darling.” he groaned with a lick to his lips and his hands went roaming up your torso to grab your breasts, “Why didn’t you get on top of me sooner? Look at you.”

You chuckled bashfully and gently started to bounce on him from your knees. With the pleasure that tore through you, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft moan fell from your parted lips, savouring each inch of him so deep inside you. 

“God, I love your fucking dick.” you spilled out honestly. 

“Yeah?” his hands moved back down to squeeze your hips, holding them a little tighter so you were forced to stop your shallow bounces. “Back and forth for me, sweetheart. Grind on it.” 

You started to rut your hips forwards and backwards on him with your hands still resting on his chest to keep yourself steady, giving you ample room to rub your clit against his pelvis while the head of his cock nudged against your g-spot at the perfect angle. Mouth falling open with pleasure, you gaped down at him behind fluttering eyes. 

“Holy shit.” you exhaled. 

“Uh huh?” he kept your eye contact as his hands on your hips started to speed you up, almost yanking you back and forth on his lap himself, “Just like that?”

“F-Fuck!” you gasped, “Yeah!” 

“Yeah, keep going, baby, show me how good that feels.”

“So fucking good, George-” you whimpered, keeping those strong strokes going yourself even when he moved his hands away from your waist. The bed was squeaking underneath you with how hard you were taking it, riding him with all the power left in you until the headboard was starting to hit the wall in messy time. The noise had you hesitating for a moment, slowing down, nervous about the neighbours for a fleeting moment. 

George just grabbed your hips again and tugged you back into the motions, “Did I say stop?”

“No.” you whined, pressing your nails into his chest as he took you over again. 

“Faster. Ride it as hard as you can.” he ordered. 

His hands grabbed your breasts as you kept going on your own again, ignoring the bed hitting the drywall and instead focused on the tingling pleasure that tore through you. Your head fell backwards and you let out a moan to the ceiling, straining from your knees on either side of his lap as your sloppy pussy squelched with each stroke on his cock that filled you right up. 

“Good girl.” he praised, “Show me who owns this cock.”

“Me.” you breathed, flicking your hips stronger on him. 

“Yeah, show me that this is your fucking dick.” 

Your eyes were struggling to stay open and the intensity that grew quickly within you had your body shuttering for a moment and you stopped yourself with a quiver. 

George’s hand slapped down hard on your ass, repeating a strong, “Did I say stop?”

“No, sir.” you groaned, ignoring the ache in your thighs to keep yourself going again. 

“That’s it.” his eyes flickered between your face and your position on his lap, his hands starting to yank you back and forth again, “Keep going. Don’t fucking slow down.”

Your face was screwed up in concentrated pleasure, whimpering for him, “I’m gonna cum.”

“More.” he ordered through his teeth, “Gimme more.”

“Yes!” you squeaked, leaning farther forward on your hands against his shoulders with your nails digging into his muscle, hips rutting hard on his lap. “Yes, fuck!” 

A few more seconds and your eyes were blurring with tears from the strain on your legs and the pleasurable pressure building in the pit of your insides, chasing that orgasm desperately. The whole world started to fall away again as he took over your senses and you were forced onto a one track mind. 

Then suddenly, George’s hands tightened on your hips and he halted your movements, “Stop.” 

Your body shuttered with the sudden change after getting you so close and you whined loudly in protest. 

“Oh,” George chuckled lowly, “feel you fucking throbbing for me.”

“So close.” you whimpered, trying to start moving again but he held you firmly in place. 

“Where are your manners?” he pressed. 

“Please?” you exhaled, peering down at him longingly with a look of desperation you couldn’t bother to hide, “Please let me cum on your cock.”

George gave you another spank, “Keep going.” 

You sat back a little more to rest one hand on his thigh while keeping your other against his chest still and you gladly took his invitation to get back to those addicting grinds. Your hair tumbled out of your face as you tilted your head back slightly, letting the uncontrollable moans fall from your pouted lips. 

George’s hands on your hips kept yanking you back and forth some more and he spoke up to you strongly, “God, you look so fucking sexy when you ride me.”

“Feels so fucking good, I wanna cum for you so bad.” you cried. 

“Show me.” he ordered, letting go of your waist again to let you take over and do it yourself. 

The lust drove you crazy as if it were some sort of out of body experience and you rode him harder, faster, stronger, despite the ache of your thighs and the sweat across your skin. You were almost dizzy and the feverish whimpers and moans that spilled from your chest were certainly no help. George was staring up at you with his bottom lip captured between his teeth, such a handsome man so willing to just let you use him. 

His large hands then grabbed your wrists, pulling you away from steadying yourself on his body so it truly was only your hips doing all the work. His blue eyes focused on where you were connected, licking his lips as the sight of you rutting yourself on him so hard that the headboard was hitting the wall, not to mention the sound of your wet pussy taking him to just prove how badly you wanted him. His fingers around your wrists tightened as he held your hands out to the side to let your hips do the talking. 

“Just like that, gorgeous, good girl.” he praised loudly, “Fuck, you feel so good.” 

“I’m gonna cum.” you whimpered, hands bunching into fists from where he held them. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum!” 

George stayed quiet minus his few pleasurable sounds of his own, letting you draw yourself closer on his lap second by second. But then, just as you were tensing up, he shoved your hands aside and grabbed your hips hard, “Stop.” 

“Oh!” you shrieked at the sudden halt again, your body trying to bounce on him to make up for it but you ended up just rolling right off his lap, your legs trembling. Your knees curled towards your chest and your ankles linked together with your hand between your legs to try and ease the throbbing ache that pulsed through your cunt. With a shaky voice, you cried out a weak, “Fuck you.”

George just chuckled lowly and turned over after you, reaching above your head to grab the pillows and toss them to the floor to give you both free reign of the entire bed. His strong arms held him up on either side of you and he leaned down to kiss your neck wetly. You rolled over underneath him onto your right side, wrapping a hand around his forearm as your body trembled from being edged by him and you sunk your teeth gently into his flesh to muffle your displeased moans. 

“Such a whiny little cockslut.” George spoke against your ear before nipping at your earlobe, “Just wants to cum so fucking bad.”

You hummed in agreement just as he sat back from you on his knees and he straddled one of your legs with the other still curled up towards your chest. Your pussy was on clear display for him this way, glistening wet in the nighttime light of the city that streaked in from the open balcony curtains, and he dragged the slick head of his cock through it before sinking inside you again. Your mouth fell open with a hearty moan, eyes fluttering shut, and your hand tightened around his forearm. 

“Look at me.” George instructed as he took his hand from the mattress and, instead, pushed his index finger into your mouth. 

You turned your head slightly to open your eyes again and look at him over top of you just as he thrusted hard into you, making you moan around his finger. 

“Good girl. You’re doing so well.” he praised as he started to thrust into you consistently, “Such a good fucking girl for me.”

You were a mess of noises and you sucked and drooled around his finger without thought, gladly accepting his cock inside you powerfully over and over again. One of your hands reached down to tug at the flesh of your ass to try and open yourself up for him at your 90-degree angle of your hips, wanting to feel every inch of him entirely through you. 

“You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he reminded you seriously. 

Pulling off his finger, you cried in protest, “It’s not enough!”

“More?” he asked. 

“Yes.” you pleaded, wrapping your hands around his forearms on either side of you. 

He fucked you harder into the bed, forcing that hot pressure to be felt deep inside you and you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You had never thought it was realistic for ones eyes to roll from pleasure but there you were, gaping to the ceiling with your eyes fucking rolling for him from the euphoria that rose a sheen sweat across your bare skin. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes-” you chanted heartily. 

“Mhm?” George reached a hand up to the top of the upholstered headboard, giving himself more leverage to thrust into you, while his other grabbed your thigh and pushed your leg closer to your chest to spread you open wider. 

“Oh, fuck!” you squeaked, habitually turning your face away from him and into the sheets instead to muffle your overwhelming moans as your fingers clutched the linens. It was almost as if you were trying to claw yourself away from him, torn between wanting more and being overwhelmed with the intensity of it all. 

George put you right back in your place with a hand around your throat, pinning you back down against the mattress so you were staring up at him and his peaked brows as he ordered, “Look at me.”

“I’m-” you shuttered, “so close-”

“Look at me when you cum.” he demanded, tightening his hand around your throat, “Don’t fucking look away from me.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you squeaked, your nose scrunching up with how quickly he was getting you there again. You pleaded with him without tearing your eyes away from his, “Please can I cum?”

“Yeah, cum for me, baby. Squeeze my cock and cum all over me.” 

You tried to keep his eye contact but as your body tensed up and the pleasure had your ears ringing, you had no choice but to scrunch your eyes shut as your head arched from the bed and your broken cry was expressed to the ceiling. George groaned lowly as you squeezed right around him when you came, creaming all over his cock as you shuttered underneath him, and in seconds he was pulling out of you. 

He shoved your leg to the side so you were flat on your back and spread properly for him and his hand took to his cock himself, stroking himself off in quick flicks of his wrist right over top of you. You just stared up at him with mouth parted in near awe at how he sparkled in the city lights through the window under that handsome sheen of sweat across his toned body. And his moans were something else, so erotic and angelic that you could have listened to him until the end of time, and you reached down to help him with your gentle hand. Only a few more pumps and he was coming right up your stomach with a broken groan and an extra little squeeze of your hand around the swollen head, pulling more pretty streaks of white out of him to paint your stomach and your pelvis in his essence. 

“Holy fuck.” you breathed, sliding your hand up his abs and his chest as he leaned down to kiss your lips. You shared a few hot breathless kisses before he was leaving one more to your collarbone and another between your breasts and then he was settling between your legs and guiding them up towards your chest. Your fingers raked through his hair with a gentle warning, “My God, George-”

His mouth was on your clit again in a fleeting moment, making your whole body jolt in sensitivity, but he held you securely on his mouth even as your strained moans reached all four walls of the hotel room. You were gaping dumbly to the ceiling as your arms straightened completely with your fingers tangled in his hair as if wanting to get him away from you, back arching off the bed and toes curling in mid air. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you squealed, only getting louder and pitchier as he sucked on your clit. 

George smothered himself in your pussy with his fingers pressing indentations into your thighs, taking you over with his tongue like you were his last meal. You were so sensitive too that it was hard to keep still and you were gasping and whining to the hot air of the hotel room, tugging at his hair until he was groaning up against you. 

“Christ.” he huffed as he pulled away from you with a filthy slurp, “You taste fucking incredible.”

You barely had a second to catch your breath before his fingers were gliding between your lips and shoving back inside your snug cunt, taking him in gladly. He stared at your body taking him in with all the lust in the world, you swore, and his teeth captured his bottom lip in near concentration as he fingered you possessively in precise purposeful thrusts. It was obvious how aroused you were by the squishy wet sound of his fingers inside you and it made him just have to lean back down to lap at your clit again. 

“Oh my God.” you said through your teeth, dropping your head back against the bed with your eyes screwed shut. 

“Too much?” he asked you as he pulled away from your pussy again, keeping his fingers going. 

“Little.” you confessed shakily. 

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

The insistence behind your reply made him chuckle lowly and with his two fingers still knuckle deep inside you, he shifted between your legs to rest a bit more at your side. You took that brief moment to breathe and your hands pushed your tangled hair out of your face before resting on the mattress on either side of your head. Nude and spread for him, you let him do as he pleased to you in the nakedness of his own, loving how he took you over like he had known you for your whole life…like you were his to play with. And the way he so obviously loved to bring you pleasure was insanely attractive. 

Once situated slightly to your right and facing your body, George’s fingers were starting to curl up against that soft squishy spot inside you while his left hand raised to his mouth to suck on two more fingers. You gently grasped the fitted sheet under your head, lip captured by your teeth, staring up at him with blown wide eyes that held the expression that made him want to ruin you. He pulled his fingers from his mouth and set them down gently against your swollen clit, hushing you sweetly as your body jumped under his tender touch. 

“That’s my good girl.” he whispered, finding a matching pace with his two hands - one inside you and one out. 

You succumbed to him so easily, the soft moans tumbling from your bitten lip as you stared at him, still covered in his cum like he owned you. And honestly, it felt like he truly did. Every single touch he offered you felt like pure electricity, complete erotic bliss filling your senses all over again. 

“Feels so fucking good.” you exhaled, eyes focused on his face. 

“Uh huh?” George tore his eyes away from your pussy to meet your gaze, allowing his fingers to move a little faster; one rubbing at your clit and the other reaching that perfect spot inside you. “Think you wanna cum for me again?” 

“Yeah.” you exhaled. “You make me cum so fucking hard.”

“Mhm.” he licked away his smirk and looked back down to his task at hand, “And you take it so well, gorgeous.” 

He kept those consistent shallow curls of his two fingers inside you, caressing your g-spot right on until your breaths were falling shallower again. Your head arched back against the mattress with a small groan, your legs struggling to keep themselves open, and you grasped tighter onto the fitted sheet. George hummed in appreciation for how easily you took it and he shifted again at your side to rise up a little onto his knees for a new angle, removing his hand from your clit to hold your leg closest to him to the side. Then, with his occupied arm perfectly straight, he could really work those precise curls of his fingers against your g-spot in harder upwards jabs. 

“O-Oh-” you gasped shakily, dropping a hand down out of natural habit to try and lessen the intense feeling but you stopped yourself at your stomach, your hand haphazardly swiping through the mess of cum that was still streaked across your sweaty skin. Your middle finger inched to your clit where you rubbed yourself a little as if he needed any help. 

George’s jaw was clenched with how seriously he was taking it, fingering you strongly until his bicep was bulging and your thighs were trembling with the quick onset of pleasure. The heat was rising across your body again with the blood rushing to your ears until you swore you could hear ringing but the pressure that was building in the depths of your stomach took the cake. It felt tingly and dangerous and you tried to slide your hand down to cover yourself. 

“I have to pee-” you whimpered, as if in a futile attempt to stop him, barely heard over the ridiculously wet sound of your pussy. 

“Feels like it, huh?” he taunted strongly with his fingers still engraving him into that precious spot inside you with the power of his entire arm, “Give into that for me, darling.”

“I don’t-” your body shuttered, “I’m-”

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Don’t hold anything back.”

Your moans only grew pitchier and pitchier until you were literally squealing to the ceiling and your hands were flying out to grab onto his thigh and the duvet. The pleasure was insane until the whole world fell away and your vision went spotted for a second followed by a rush of relief. You cried out for him loudly as the first trickle slipped out of you and he was pulling his fingers out to let you squirt all over the bed and him. 

“Good girl.” he praised loudly through his teeth before shoving his fingers back inside you to keep you going through your orgasm. “That’s my good girl! Make a fucking mess for me, baby.” 

Your thighs curled up towards your body until you were nearly squeezing him out with broken pleasured sobs falling from your chest, grabbing his wrist between your legs to try and get him out of you as the pleasure tapered off. Writhing against the dampened sheets, you were soaked in sweat, cum, and your own liquids, and even the ghost of his breath on your skin had your whole body flinching with sensitivity. 

“That’s enough.” you panted, leaving your hand around his wrist even as he pulled it out of you. “Holy shit, I almost blacked out.”

“You okay?” George chuckled and shifted down beside you, laying half on top of you as he brushed your hair out of your face and let his eyes scan your features. 

“Yeah.” you lifted your head up to look down your body at your quivering legs and the mess of wetness you left behind across the perfect white sheets. “Fuck, I’ve never squirted before.”

George smiled proudly against your cheek and kissed the corner of your mouth, “My pleasure.” 

You slid your fingers into the back of his hair and guided his lips to yours, sharing a few sloppy breathless kisses before his head was resting against your shoulder with a content sigh. His arm laid heavy around your middle and even laying together in the nude, the air conditioning of the hotel room didn’t do much to cool your sweaty bodies. 

“I think I need some water.” you whispered. 

George was moving away from you and got off the bed right away, “I got it.”

He disappeared just around the corner to the small built in bar where he grabbed two glasses and then filled them in the bathroom sink. When he returned, your eyes couldn’t help but soak him up in his glorious nakedness in the moonlight and by the warmth of the bedside sconces. Never have you known a man so handsome and perfect that it made your heart skip a beat even when he wasn’t necessarily doing anything to justify your lust. But maybe it was those rose-coloured glasses talking since he had just given you the most erotic and pleasurable night of your entire life. 

The water glass felt heavy in your hands but you took it from him with thanks and you sat yourself up slightly before sipping the water with relief, not realizing how thirsty you were until that moment. George settled himself onto the bed beside you and leaned back against the upholstered headboard with a sigh and a drink from his own glass. It was almost surprising how quickly you downed your drink and soon you were setting the empty glass on the bedside table before turning to face him. 

With those pleasure hormones still swirling through your brain and your bloodstream, you just wanted to get closer and you slid your hand up his bare chest and around the side of his neck as your lips met his smooth jaw for a lingering kiss. George smiled and rubbed your thigh before gently guiding your leg over his just to keep your body as close as possible to his. Your sweaty skin stuck together faintly as if to remind you how you felt as one that night.

He turned his head to you slightly, nudging your cheek with his nose to silently urge your face towards his so your lips could meet in a slow sensual kiss. You lingered there for a moment together, motionless, lips locked, breathless and sweaty, until he was pulling away gently. He licked his lips habitually and seemed to inhale you contentedly with his eyes half closed in pure peaceful bliss. The moment of silence lingered between you as if the reality of your situation was starting to settle and yet your minds swirled with thoughts surrounding nothing but each other. 

Your hand on the side of his neck guided his lips back to yours and he leaned into you gladly, sharing in your dreamy kisses that had your insides curling with lust after he had given you the absolute most. It was crazy and unheard of to be so greedy, but he was a drug to you and you only craved him more. You exchanged slow open mouthed kisses that could pass as nothing but chasté if it weren’t for the setting and the circumstance you found yourselves in. The taste of his lips was addicting and the fact that the reminisce of your own arousal still clung to him and teased your senses as you dragged your tongue along his bottom lip was dizzying. 

George pulled away from you long enough to reach past you and set his empty water glass on the bedside table beside your own before he was licking away his smile and guiding you in by the chin to kiss you some more. Without the barrier of water glasses or clothes, you embraced each other urgently in warm arms and sweet kisses, sharing breaths as one amidst your dance of lips and tongues. And, with a sudden influx of bravery that coursed through you, you shifted at his side and tossed your leg over his thighs to straddle his lap. 

His hands guided you gladly, letting you sit rightfully on his lap as his tongue helped itself into your mouth and against your own while your fingers were tangled in his hair to pull him impossibly closer. Your body arched into his as if needing to feel every inch of his skin against yours and his hands on your waist wrapped tighter around you until your chest was flush against his. It was as if the previous escapades were forgotten about as the fire that burned between you was stronger than ever and you could start to feel his dick hardening underneath you and you ground down on him faintly to feel more of it. 

George’s soft groan tasted heavenly and you sucked on his tongue for a moment before pulling out of his kiss and dragging your hands down his shoulders and his chest. His fingers caressed your hips and along your spine and you stared at each other for a moment as you let the feeling of your body heat lure your hearts closer. But then he was leaning in again and capturing your lips in another feverish kiss that had you giggling into his mouth, your hands holding his face in your palms. 

Between his insistent kisses, you pleaded with him sweetly, “Please can you fuck me again?”

“Again?” he chuckled lowly as he broke your kiss, brushing his nose across your cheek as you held onto each other. “Blimey, has no one ever fucked you properly before? Never had a man as generous as me?”

“No.” you replied easily, ready and willing to butter him up to get that reward you craved. 

“Mhm?” he shifted underneath you without breaking your eye contact, turning you both over so you could be laid down on the bed again while he taunted you lustfully, “Or are you just that much of a slut that you just can’t get enough dick?”

“I’m your slut.” you answered with a giddy grin that you tried to bite back, pulling him down by your hand at the back of his neck to get his lips on yours again. 

His body rested heavily on top of you and your ankles tucked behind his calves to hold him close, slinging your arm around his back with your nails pressing greedily into the toned muscle of his shoulders. He spoke into your mouth with his lips brushing yours, his voice low and rich, “You’re fucking crazy and I can’t get enough of you.” 

“Fuck me.” you begged strongly. 

George pushed himself away from you long enough to grab your thighs and shove them up towards your chest so when he leaned back down over top of you, your ankles were resting against his shoulders. He licked his fingers and then dropped that hand down between your legs to smear across your soaked pussy before the head of his cock was taking its place. His eyes met yours, “You sure you can take more?”

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

He took your words as truth and then slowly pushed his stiffening cock inside you, catching himself with flat hands against the mattress on either side of your head and his eyes locked on yours. You held onto the side of his neck with your legs stretched messily up to his shoulders until your thighs burned just as much as your insides but you’d never dream of stopping him. 

You were so achingly sensitive and growing sore from your long night but you had missed the feeling of being filled by him until you were stretched out around the girth of his cock, mouthing to no one in particular, “Oh my God.” 

George’s lips were on yours again in an instant and you moaned happily into his sloppy kiss as he started to grind deeper into you. You clung onto him warmly and when you couldn’t get him close enough, he let your legs move from his shoulders to around his waist. That also gave him a bit more freedom of movement and he ducked his face in your neck as he started to thrust into you properly. 

Gasping into the hot air of the Parisian hotel room, you let your nails press into his back as he fucked you for the nth time that evening and it still felt just as gloriously good as the first time. He was still growing harder inside you until every thrust was delivered with strong curling precision that had your eyes rolling. 

“Holy fuck,” you whimpered, “How are you still so fucking hard?” 

George’s low chuckle fell against your neck and he shifted a little bit closer to you to thrust harder into your sopping cunt, “You don’t make it difficult.” 

You meant to smile but the growing intensity of his dick pistoning inside you had your face fluttering with waves of intense pleasure that teetered on the border of pain with thanks to how sensitive you were by then. You were trying to keep your breath steady but he had a way of fucking the air from your lungs until you were holding your breath to try and feel every ounce of pleasure from him as well as holding yourself back from the pressure of his cock nudging against your cervix. 

“Harder.” you pleaded to him. “Fuck me harder.”

“Naughty girl.” he pushed away from you slightly to get his hand around your throat again.

He pinned you down against the mattress that way with the perfect squeeze and your hands clutched onto his biceps as you peered up at him above you. He was getting rough with it again and those pretty moans found their way past your lips once more, blessing the hotel room alongside the rhythmic sound of the headboard starting to hit the wall. Your eyes were rolling for him, jaw clenched, your body tense with steadily rising pleasure. 

“Don’t pass out on me.” he warned seriously with only a hint of teasing to his tone. 

“Mm mm.” you shook your head faintly with your eyes scrunching shut. Your hands slid up his biceps to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer the best you could. 

“Want me like this?” he asked as he lowered himself on top of you again, staying perfectly close with your legs around his waist so his every thrust hit as deep as possible. 

“Mhm, fuck.” you whimpered, tangling one hand in the back of his hair and dragging the other across his back. 

“You feel so damn good.” he exhaled against your cheek, breathless from the effort he was putting into you. “So fucking perfect I never wanna pull out.”

“Don’t.” you held onto him tighter. “Don’t fucking stop.” 

The way he fucked you into the cloud-like king size bed had you swearing it was all a dream, far too good to be true. He fit inside you so perfectly that you swore your bodies were made for each other, entangled as one, just like it was meant to be. You hardly knew him but you were so attached - a connection stemmed from shared pleasure and the most intimate moments of human nature. 

George wasn’t going to last much longer after the extensive night you had already shared and proof of that was only shown in the way his hips shoved sloppier against yours like he was chasing something hungrily, his arms around your head and his face in your neck. He was all over you. The erotic creak of the mattress underneath you made shivers tear up your arms as if in reminder of how well he treated you body, how he made you moan and writhe and sweat like you never knew possible. So many firsts given to this handsome stranger.

You couldn’t help yourself but want more. 

The words left your mouth in a soft tremble as he fucked you into the duvet, “You know something else I’ve never had?”

“What’s that, my love?” he replied breathily against your jaw without missing a beat. 

“I’ve never had someone cum inside me.”

George groaned and slumped his forehead onto your shoulder, “Fuck, darling-” 

“Please cum inside me.” the urgency made your heart race and you linked your ankles together behind his back as if physically trying to convince him.

“I-”

“Please? I wanna feel you cum so fucking deep inside me. Wanna feel your perfect fucking cock throbbing inside me while you fill me up.”

Despite your startling pleas, he didn’t stop fucking you as if driven by a desire outside of himself, even if his words tried to argue gently in reply, “That’s so fucking dangerous, baby.”

“Show me I’m yours.” you ignored him, dragging your nails across his back, “Please cum with me.” 

“Shit, are you sure?” 

“Yes. Please, sir.” 

“Oh my God.” he groaned through his teeth, wrapping himself in you as you shared the journey to that blissful conclusion. 

It wasn’t difficult for you to get there either as your previous escapades had left you terribly sensitive and the warm pressure that he pushed into the depths of your body with every sharp thrust was building that sensation inside you. You held onto him tightly, bodies moving as one, breaths shared, the hotel bed housing your desperate sloppy one night stand that was unlike anything else you had ever experienced. 

“Fuck, please don’t stop.” you squeaked out, fingers pressing into his back and raking your nails across his skin, “You’re gonna make me cum again!” 

“That’s my good girl. Fucking cum with me.” 

“Don’t pull out.”

“Won’t.” 

“Please.”

“Fuck-”

It was the first wave of your orgasm that sent him over the edge himself, that first grip of your pussy around his aching dick that shot pleasure up his spine until he was shuttering in your arms and moaning into your neck. You clung onto him tightly, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as if trying to keep yourself quiet as you squealed and cried out through your uncountable orgasm of the night. But the feeling of him coming inside you was even better than the dopamine hit and your heels pressed into his bum to tug him as deep as possible, whimpering against his cheek as he filled you with thick warm spurts. 

“Fuck.” you squeaked, barely heard over his own euphoric groans as his sharp thrusts died down into curling grinds to really make the most of it, giving you every last drop. You whimpered his name against his ear and his lips found yours blindly in an off-centered kiss that was more tongue than grace. You held his face in your trembling hands and he let his entire body weight rest on top of you for a moment as you shared a few more breathless kisses. 

“Well,” he exhaled out of your kiss, “What happens in Paris…” 

You let out a soft giggle and he carefully shifted away from you so he was sitting back on his knees before slowly pulling out. Your hand reached down to take his place, sliding your fingers along your slick pussy and just inside, feeling how wet you were thanks to the both of you. And as your muscles clenched and released from the ending of your orgasm, his cum was starting to be pushed out of you and you gladly let it drip onto your fingers. 

“Holy fuck, it feels so good.” you breathed, lifting your head up to look down your body to where your hand was positioned between your legs. 

George just smirked proudly down at you, gently caressing your quivering thighs with his fingertips as he watched you lazily play with yourself. He spoke to you softly, “Can I get you water and a towel?” 

His manners had you smiling up at him and you nodded, “Yes, please.” 

“Okay,” he patted your thigh, “be right back.”

He took your empty glasses from the bedside table and disappeared around the corner into the bathroom again, leaving you for a moment alone on the king size bed. Your fingers fell to a stop between your legs just coated in his cum while your head lolled to the side slightly to peer out the balcony windows to see the glittering Eiffel Tower in the near distance. It was such a dream. 

George returned to you shortly and joined you back in bed with your water and a towel. You took the towel first and shuffled it underneath you before using the edge to mop up the worst of what spilled back out of you; even if it was all too late for the duvet to be spared. The two of you then shared in the silence and the appreciated hydration, side by side. You were utterly exhausted and your head rested against his shoulder even as you slowly sipped your water and his hand rubbed innocent circles on your bare thigh. 

“Was this all okay for you?” he asked after a few moments. 

“Yeah,” you said, “It was so perfect.”

“Perfect?” he chuckled. 

“Mhm.” you wrapped your hand around his bicep to hold him close, “I swear to God, I’m gonna remember this night for the rest of my life.”

He kissed your head, “Me too.”

“I should clean myself up a little.” you shifted away from him and sat up a little straighter, glancing down at yourself and the mess of the night that was left behind between hand prints, hickeys, and drying ribbons of cum across various body parts. George let you go. 

While you took to the bathroom on wobbly legs to do your business and wipe yourself down with a cool damp cloth, George tidied up the hotel room and brought in your clothes and your drinks from the balcony. By the time everything was arranged and you were cleaned up, you emerged from the bathroom in your shy nakedness as he was putting the half empty bottle of champagne in its bucket of melted ice on the mini bar. He had the modesty of underwear by then after having snagged it from where his briefs had been discarded on the balcony earlier in your evening plans but he was unbothered by the vast expanse of your body and his hand inched around your waist to lead you closer. 

“You okay?” he asked, his thumb caressing the small of your back. 

“Yeah. I’m just really tired. I should call a cab.” you whispered. 

“Stay.” he offered, “I don’t want you navigating the city this late and this exhausted.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. Of course, I’m sure. I’d love it if you stayed.”

A small smile dusted over the corner of your lips, “Okay. Thank you.”

You both leaned in at the same time for a fleeting kiss before you were slipping past him and farther into the hotel room. He directed you to your clothes that were draped on the lounge chair in the corner and you followed his lead to just pull your underwear on and nothing else. The concept of spending the night with him was almost just as thrilling as the concept of hooking up with him as the promise of feeling his skin against yours made your heart race. 

“What time is your flight tomorrow?” he asked as you climbed under the heavy and well used duvet. 

“Noon.” you sighed, “And I still have to stop by my hotel to grab my things.”

“That’s not bad.” 

He joined you in the bed like he had been doing it every day of his life and you naturally shifted closer to each other under the sheets. Even though he was a stranger, you felt so safe with him and with his arms around you, sleep seemed to take you over all too easily, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat without another word spoken.

You had fallen asleep with the curtains open so as morning rose, the bright light woke you naturally. Blinking away the faint headache from your alcohol infused night, you tried to place your surroundings and orient your dizzy brain properly. George’s arm tossed around your waist  brought you back to reality with ease and you smiled faintly at the memories that flooded your conscience. He was sprawled on his stomach and snoring faintly, his body tucked right up beside yours, and for a second, you just stared at him. His bare back was exposed under the slipping white sheets and you gently traced the red scratches you had left him as a souvenir across his caramel skin. 

The stiffness in your limbs was obvious and you soon had to shift and stretch, ultimately jostling him enough to rouse him slightly. He sighed heavily and reached a hand up to rub his eyes and his face as he rolled onto his back. 

“Sorry.” you whispered. 

“S’okay.” he mumbled, his voice deep and rich with lingering sleep. 

It made your heart flutter.

Laying on his back now, he draped an arm above his head and tousled his fingers through his messy hair, blinking his eyes open to look at you through the unpleasant morning light that had just started to peek over the horizon. He held his arm out again despite you shifting and invited you in, “C’mere.” 

You licked away your smile and shuffled closer to him so you could melt into his side with his arm around your shoulder. Laying together in that heavenly bed, you shared in the view of the Eiffel Tower blessed by the morning sun as it rose into the sky of pinks and oranges with teasing hints of brilliant blue. With his arm that wasn’t around your shoulders, George's hand found yours over the sheets that kept you decent, tracing your fingers with his and then intertwining them tenderly. For the uncountable time since meeting him, you silently swore that this was heaven. 

“You hungry?” he asked after a few long minutes of serenity. 

“Yeah,” you exhaled, not having thought about it until that moment, “starving, actually.”

George took his arm from around your shoulders and he leaned across the bed to his night stand where the hotel phone was. In a tangle of sheets, he lifted the receiver and dialed the front desk to order you both a huge breakfast spread from room service. As he did so, you greedily reached out to brush a hand through his messy brunette hair and down his muscular back, watching how you drew goosebumps in your wake. 

While your food was prepared, the two of you watched the Parisian sunrise in bed together, sharing kisses and caresses and perfect silence like this was your shared romantic vacation. For a fleeting moment, you had convinced yourself that maybe it was. 

George’s finger trailed down your neck to the hickey that stained your skin and he tapped it gently, “Airport security is gonna give you some weird looks.”

You hide your bashful smile into his shoulder, “We made some bad decisions last night.”

“I think we made great decisions.” he countered.

“Mm, yeah.” you agreed easily, “They were pretty great, huh?”

“You sore?”

“Quite. But in a good way.”

His hand captured your jaw and gently guided your lips to his for a few lingering kisses. 

When you pulled away and rested your palm against his bare chest, you confessed quietly, “I still can’t get over how you knew just how I liked it without me needing to tell you.”

“All in your body language, baby.” he replied modestly as your eyes met, “You’re so easy to read.”

“You’re such a gentleman.”

You both leaned in at the same time for more kisses, smiling into each other’s mouths. 

Room service came shortly after and George got out of bed to let the bellboy in with the rolling table filled with French breakfast, even if he was only in his underwear. He made sure to tip the young man and your eyes lingered on the €50 bill he passed over like it was nothing alongside his thanks. You sat in the middle of the cloud-like bed in a pool of sheets and George shifted all the plates onto the duvet so you could share your feast together in bed. 

Crepes and waffles and fresh fruit and sausages and mimosas felt never-ending but you swore it was the most delicious meal you had since arriving in Paris - but maybe it was your company and your well expected hunger that just made it feel so much more rewarding. The view of the Eiffel Tower certainly wasn’t anything to complain about either. 

With plates emptied and appetites fulfilled, you lounged back together against the headboard, cuddled up close. Your eyes were closed peacefully with your heads leaning together and George’s gentle touches to your arm with the back of his finger felt homely. You knew you had a plane to catch but it was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“Kinda don’t wanna get outta bed.” you confessed quietly. 

“Mm,” George agreed, “me neither.”

“Could stay here forever.”

“Me too.”

A pause. 

“Thank you for last night.” you said. 

“Thank you for last night.”

“Lots of firsts.”

George chuckled faintly, “Oh, yes.”

You shared peaceful breathy laughter and he turned his head to kiss your temple and then your cheek and then you let him kiss your lips. 

“You have a plane to catch.” he reminded you. 

A sad smile came to your lips and you replied with a barely audible, “I know.”

With another kiss and no complaint, you tore yourself out of his arms and out of his bed and walked across the carpeted floor to your clothes. He watched you dress from the bed with fondness in his features and you ignored the pit in your stomach that grew with your fast approaching parting. When you were dressed and ready to go, you turned to him. 

“Now what?” you asked. 

George slid out of bed to join you with that handsome smile of his, “Now what, what?”

“I’ve never…done this before so I don’t know the proper protocol for leaving.” you rambled. 

“You just kiss me goodbye.” he shrugged, guiding you closer by your hands. 

Part of you wanted to tell him that you didn’t want to say goodbye but your mouth abandoned you. So you kissed him once more, lingering on those heavenly plush lips of his, before time was pulling you apart. 

“You’re gonna make some guy into the absolute luckiest bastard on this planet some day.” George said like it was what you needed to hear. 

You gave his hands a squeeze, and let your gaze linger on his face as if trying to memorize the man you had no pictures of. 

“Good bye, George.” you breathed. 

He let your hands slip out of his, “Till we meet again, my love.”

#plz be nice or i'll cry #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell smut #george russell fanfic #george russell fluff #george russell #gr63 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x oc #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fanfic

[daisybianca]

pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader

summary: it's totally forbidden. he's older and your childhood and eternal crush, but there's more to that. his best friend--and your dad--is Michael Schumacher. one day, you're sick and stuck in your bed with a fever. he pays you a visit, and then the fever becomes even more brutal. PART TWO. Here's part 1.

warnings: smut, female pleasuring, cursing words

(a/n): here's part 2 because you seemed to love the first one! <333

"I SUPPOSE YOU'LL HAVE TO BEG FOR IT."

Seb's face morphed into a full grin as he exclaimed the words.

Beg for it.

You felt your cheeks growing even hotter--if that was even possible with a fever and him in a room with you. Completely alone.

You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes at him. His hands were still on your thighs, and you did everything you could to ignore them.

"So, you don't want to kiss me." You said, more like announcing it yourself.

You knew he probably wanted to kiss you, but you teased him anyway, just like he teased you all those years.

You turned your head to face the wall next to you, not looking at the German man in front of you because you'd be willing to participate in every activity he would suggest, including begging for it.

"I want to kiss you, babe." He whispered, and you soon felt his hot breath brush against the flesh of your thigh. "But I don't intend to make it that easy, as I said before. I am a man of my word."

Damn him and his beautiful eyes.

You couldn’t resist that.

His hand found your back, and he started removing your shorts. "Is that okay?"

Those puppy eyes...

"Yes." You replied and fully removed your shorts. "But if you think I'm actually going to beg for your dick, you will be very disappointed."

His lips twitched as he brought his palms up to your thighs. They trembled under his touch, and you clenched them to hide the shiver.

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Who said anything about my dick?"

"Then what exactly do you expect me to beg you for--"

His fingers gripped the edges of her underwear and pulled it down at once.

Seb took his time, turning the removal of your clothes into a long and drawn-out event.

You could barely stand his soft touches and his sly glances.

"I don't like this game." You stated, sighing. You were getting more and more impatient with each passing second, and you were just getting started.

He removed your shirt and spread your thighs even more. "I'm sure I can change your mind soon enough."

You froze as he pressed his palm to your breast and pushed back, pulling you to his face.

Oh, my God.

A scene like that could bring any woman to orgasm all by itself, you thought to yourself.

With the way your lower body was throbbing, it wouldn't take much to make you come. Especially with the way those gorgeous, blue eyes were looking at you and the way his hair unwittingly caressed you body.

Your whole body was buzzing as his tongue touched your soft spot, teasing you shameless. You arched your back in response, and your thighs almost mechanically squeezed his head between them.

Seb's laughter made your clit vibrate. His fingers tightened the quilt as he destroyed your ability to think of anything but his tongue diving into you in shameless movements.

Yep, that was the word to describe this very moment.

Shameless.

What whould papa say if he knew his childhood best friend fucked his beloved daughter with his tongue at her apartment, while thinking she was very sick and could barely walk.

I'm sure I will indeed be able to barely walk after this kind of beautiful torture, you thought.

The mere thought of your father finding out made you shiver, but Seb almost immediately sensed the tension and drove his miraculous tongue deeper into you.

You were sure as hell you had never been so turned on in your brief life.

Everything about him was sensual, from the way his nails dug into your thighs as he licked heryou, to the way he looked at you when a moan escaped.

It was all gone when suddenly you felt a finger sink into you."Oh, fuck!"

"Language, babe." He said, leaving your spot for a few moments.

His lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking the spot there.

He deliberately stopped every time you neared climax.

You cursed him in the same sentence that you praised him.

You almost broke down and begged him to let you finish what he had started, but you managed not to.

If he expected you to break, he would be very surprised.

As if he didn't know how stubborn you were.

"It's a simple word." He chuckled and stepped away from Seb for a few moments. "Say it."

Your clit ached, begging for the mercy that he would not give you.

You grabbed the sheets tight. "No."

With a word from you, you could win the keys to heaven itself.

"Why are you so stubborn?" Again, you heard Seb's voice.

"Because I'm my father's daughter." You barely managed to blur out.

You couldn't stand it any longer. Your hair was a torrent of messy curls and it was flowing haphazardly around you.

It was just a word.

An innocent, little word.

"Please." Your cheeks were wet with the tears you didn't know had fallen.

His laughter sent another wave of arousal through you.

Fuck.

You groaned as he inserted a second finger inside you, twisting both so that they slid over your G-spot.

The way he sucked yout clit combined with the torture of his fingers pushed you to the edge.

Your body shook uncontrollably as he continued to control you with his tongue.

He played with yout body like his favorite toy, pulling your orgasm as far as possible.

Your voice was hoarse as you cried out his name, and he not only liked that.

It drove him crazy.

He would hear that dreamy, soft little voice pronounce his name even in his sleep and dreams and nightmares.

"Seb..." You moaned.

His fingers gripped you as he pulled you forward, pushing his tongue deeper into you. You caressed his hair as he made you chase your second orgasm. "Fuck..."

He abandoned your clit and pulled you into his arms.

You muffled your cries as his mouth clamped over your, drawing another shuddering breath from you.

He was kissing you.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head forward, and felt his soft lips against yours.

You stopped to face him for a while, immediately missing his lips on yours. "Seb?"

"Yes, love?"

"How do I taste like?"

A laughter escaped, and you couldn't help but smile as well. "You taste like mine."

#f1 drivers #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula one #f1 memes #formula 1 memes #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #seb vettel #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel fluff #f1 fanfic #formula one fic #formula 1 one shot #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #formula 1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula 1 x you

[5sospenguinqueen]

Post Breakfast Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader

Summary: After his disastrous response to your Monaco 21 win, Charles asks for some space. But, he's the one struggling to abide by his own boundaries.

Warnings: Swearing. Female reader. Verstappen! Reader.

Part 1 || Part 3 ||

Main Masterlist

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

User 1 this really is the end 💔

User 2 did it look like a break-up hug

User 3 we need more details, please

→ User 4 literally, you can't just drop this and not elaborate

User 5 @ F1WagsNews really giving us nothing

User 6 did you see Charles? were they together?!?!

User 7 crying? our queen? did you ask why?

→ CharlesLeclercLover7 of course not but she did apologise for the red eyes, said she had some difficult news

User 8 she always seems so sweet in media. glad to see that it's clearly true, especially when she's having a difficult day

→ CharlesLeclercLover7 she absolutely was. one of the sweetest celebs i've ever met

User 9 guys, guys, i fear that wags page was right

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

User 10 she works fast

→ User 11 more like he works fast. did you not see him jumping all over her at the podium?

→ User 12 are we all forgetting that they're teammates and friends? of course he's going to celebrate her achievements.

→ User 13 feeding her fries seems friendlier than just celebrating a teammates achievements

→ User 14 let's not forget that her so-called boyfriend couldn't even be happy for her win. let her celebrate with whomever she wants

User 15 so this is what Charles meant when he said whoever she spends her night with

lilymhe posted a new story

charles_leclerc replied pretty girl 🥰

lilymhe maybe tell HER that

charles_leclerc i can't

charles_leclerc all our conversations are so awkward lately

lilymhe sounds like your own problem, leclerc

lilymhe tell her you made a mistake when you asked for space

lilymhe my beautiful idiot will take you back in seconds

alex_albon replied i can't believe you'd cheat on me like this

alex_albon you never post me like this

lilymhe y/n said win a podium first

alex_albon 😭😭😭

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

User 16 charles asked for space so y/n gave him a whole country worth

User 17 asking for space just to cheat?

User 18 he legit ran our girl out of the country

User 19 anyone see that Max liked the inCHIdent picture

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

I may have accidentally planned this as four part series? Thoughts?

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I’m so sorry if I missed any of you. It wasn’t letting me tag some but thank you for the support x

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[goldsbitch]

BEEP

First night in a shared apartment with Lando. All is idyllic - until there is an unidentifiable alarm sound, which brings out insecurities buried safely inside under normal circumstances.

fluff, anxiety vibes, one shot

Y/N was a baths type of person. In fact, Lando suspected her being a part-time mermaid. Always in a body of water, if possible. For hours and hours. Many times he had come to her home only to find her sitting in a bathtub of then already cold water on her "home office" hours, with a laptop on her precisely curated set up. He would come to her, chat a little and playfully splash some water into her face, before having her drain the tub and joining her after another set of hot water was in it. Even after that, he could only last about 20 minutes before getting uncomfortable.

He was glad water bills were not life or death for him when they moved together to their first official shared apartment in Monaco. Making it their own was her priority, so a bathtub was an absolute must. Pool nearby as well.

As far as moving houses goes, this was a hectic one. Lando's schedule making it hard for him to participate, so she had to organize it all with the help of movers. Cleaning out two apartments into one. She was few years younger than him and this was the first time she had actually moved on her own, making it a classic test of adulthood. There were few pseudo panic attacks involved during the process. However, the feeling of accomplishment? Being able to prove to herself that she can do it alone was something nobody could ever take from her. Another level of adulthood conquered. But she didn't want Lando to know about this little insecurity of hers - with him having to grow up faster than most of his peers, she sometimes felt like she was lacking behind. Though Lando never made any comment about that, in fact this did not cross his mind at all, until their first proper evening together in their new apartment.

Lando was excited for that evening, but he was proper tired. Physically and mentally drained. Few weeks of constant travel and racing drama had him totally off.

She managed to get most of things ready for his arrival. They hit the bubbly bathtub immediately upon him coming home. Lando was smitten. Coming home, it felt really refreshing after months of "your place or mine?".

It was raw, both of them naked facing each other in the tub, legs entangled, their bodies touching at multiple places. Hot steam coming out of the water filled the room, curling Lando's hair more that usually and the scent of her latest favorite vanilla bath salt gave into the relaxing atmosphere. They casually caressed each other, engaging in a light simple conversation, carefree and intimate.

All of that went out of the window when there was an excruciatingly loud and sharp beep alarm noise suddenly out nowhere.

BEEP

Y/N eyes went wide. Lando knew that look all too well by then. Pure panic. He knew there were few moments he had to stop her spiraling.

"What was that? Did you hear it?" she asked, boring her eyes in his for answers he did not have.

He smiled and tried to pass on some relaxing energy onto her. "Yes, I did...Calm down, it's probably nothing."

"Probably?! How can you be sure?"

Lando reached for her hand. "I'm sure. All is good and fine, let's not get bothered by anything. I missed you so much," he said truthfully. She was what he wanted to focus on. Not some nonsense sounds.

She eased a bit, her fingers still feeling tense in his hands. "I miss you everytime."

"Oh, so it's a competition now?" he smirked, happy he got her distracted.

BEEP

The two stared at each other in silence for few moments.

"Honey, ignore it," he said trying to sound more demanding than a plea.

Y/N took a deep breath in. "I am ignoring it."

"I can see that, clearly," he said sarcastically. "Tell me about your week instead. Were the movers ok? Did they do a good job?"

"Well, we're sitting here and we have a bed to sleep in, so I'd say it was a success," he replied dryly.

"You're my little nervous peach, aren't you?" he said, leaning closer to her so that he could caress her face. Oh boy, was he drowning in love with this strange human sitting across him.

She let go of her pout. "Yes...But, you're the one to talk! You always get nervous before a car upgrade."

He was truly fascinated how she was unapologetically able to compare new McLaren upgrades with a random beep sound. He'd already made a mental check of the things that could have been making that sound and figured all the important alarms made a completely different sound. For a moment, he imagined his girlfriend sitting in a formula 1 car going over 200 km/h, freaking out in the style only she knew how. He'd never admit this to her, but he found her "freaking out" face irresistible.

He calculated his response. "It's perfectly fine to get nervous. But trust me, this in nothing."

BEEP

Her question was almost immediate. "What if it's the gas. What if we have a gas leak. A guy came here to do an inspection yesterday, what if he didn't close the vent or whatever?"

"Honey, the gas is not even on now..." he looked at her perplexed.

She was unstoppable at this point. "I don't know that! I don't understand these things! It's all gas heater there, air conditioning here, water boiler this and insurance that. Did you know we need to have a property insurance for the lease?"

"Yes, I knew that." He was not sure how to keep responding at that point. The last thing he wanted was to make her spiral more.

"Well, I didn't! Felt like an absolute idiot talking to the guy, I thought these things were part of leases."

Lando squeezed her hand. "It's fine. Once we get out of the tub, we'll go and search for the sound. Hey, maybe it has already stopped."

She was staring at him, waiting for her cue, expecting a beep sound any moment now. He returned her look, challenging her, making a battle of who was right. And the sound? Suddenly, not even a little ding.

"See?" he said, really hoping it was not going to come as he finished.

Tension was high in the bathroom, making it the opposite of relaxing. Yet still, there was no place other than these two would rather be. Well, Y/N would rather be at the source of the forsaken beeping, but, that was not happening now.

"Ok. Maybe you're right," she said, visibly tired as well.

"We'll get out of this bath in few mins, have dinner in the bed, watch some nonsense and go to sleep, ok? I need your cuddles, desperately," he said softly and leaned to kiss her.

BEEP

"Oh my god, what is that???" she screamed in utmost annoyance.

"Honestly, it sounds like it's coming from outside the house," he observed - and she was not having it anymore.

She gave him a sassy smile. "So, what. Is it the apocalypse now?"

"It's not the apocalypse."

Flustered wave hit her face, having her melt down completely. "Why would someone install an alarm somewhere and have it beeping for no apparent reason? People don't do that."

"I don't know, my love..."

"That's ok, but I should know! I took over the apartment from the realtor - I should have asked!"

"And what would the question be? What are the things that could beep?"

She threw her arms out, splashing water everywhere and not even noticing it. "I don't know! That's the thing! I just don't know. And I don't have a single idea where people find these out. How come everyone around always seems to know and I'm here just sitting, vibing and hoping we're not going to burn the house down."

"Y/N? What's this about?" he asked, concerned. Was she ok? Was there something he'd missed?

She was on a roll, words just flowing out of her mouth, the way only speaking to Lando made her do. "I just feel so out of place some times. I'm doing all these adult things, far away from family and from you as well. And I want to be able to do it, I want to be a good adult. But I just don't know."

He tried to hold her hand once again, but she was busy having her arms crossed around her chest. "You're still young, this is growing up. I also don't know yet, many times..."

"I don't want to be your burden, I want to be your support."

"You are my support, what are you on about?"

"I was suppose to be in charge of the whole moving thing. And here we are and I can't even tell you what's beeping."

BEEP

"My god! Can it just stop! Please!"

Lando was still thinking about what she said previously. The familiar feeling she described.

"You did a great job with the move, by the way. Honestly. It would not happen without you. I wish I could be here more," he spoke slowly, hoping she would subconsciously join in his tune.

She sighed. Might as well get everything out now. "I love you, you know that. But it gets lonely sometimes. And there is no end of your nomadic lifestyle in sight. And what if you get bored of me once you stop traveling? We've never spent a month without a break together. What if when you're older, you decide I'm actually pretty boring and you leave me for someone younger. And I'll be old, pass my best years and alone once again."

She stopped, surprised a little bit by the words that came out of her. Now that it was out, it was impossible to ignore.

Lando was hyper focused now. Every word a calculated decision. This was no longer a chill chat.

BEEP

"Y/N. I love you too. And I love you the way you are and I can't imagine loving anyone else. I'm also excited for the older version of you to come one day, to accompany my older self that I have yet to meet. I want to be with you. My job is making this harder, but I hope this will not be an obstacle for you."

The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guilty. She got mad at herself for tangling things up together so much that it stopped making sense to her. "Of course not. I love your passion and the fact you dream big. Sorry, this got a little out of hand."

"No, I'm glad you're finally phrasing your worries. Is there anything more?" Lando was keen on continuing this impromptu chat.

"What if we grow apart? People change all the time. What if we stop wanting each other? How long can love last?"

He smiled. "For me it's impossible to imagine it now. I can only speak for my present self. But what you described it the last thing I'd ever want to happen."

Y/N took a deep breath once again. "Do you want children? Because I don't know yet. Yet, unlike you, I don't have the luxury of decades to decide. My time is slowly running up. And here I am, not even sure if want them?"

"Honey, plenty if time for that. I'm sure I do not want children in the next two years anyway. It must be real fun in your head sometimes - in one sentence you're too young to know adult stuff and in other you're too old for having children?"

She finally laughed. "Yeah. It is confusing sometimes."

"I hope you don't get offended, but you look absolutely gorgeous when you're flustered. Don't be too hard on yourself, please."

"I'll remind you of that when you're on your typical self-hate trip after a bad race."

"Touché." Got him there.

"Shall we get out of the bath? Would you mind searching with me for the alarm?"

"With you I'll be happy to do absolutely anything."

He got out and reached a hand for her when she was getting up, almost as a metaphor for her current state. They helped each other dry out, put on new matching bathrobes that Lando brought as a gift and searched the whole apartment for anything that could or would beep. There were few more beeps coming their way before they suddenly stopped. The two figured it really was coming somewhere from outside. Once Y/N was finally convinced they checked everything, she agreed on getting to bed and cuddle. Lando offered going out to get her ear buds for sleeping, but by that time it had already stopped.

They never found the source of the beeping. But, that's ok. Sometimes things just make unexpected noise and it's fine.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot

[lxclerc]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary... in which karma finally bites you in the ass faceclaim... christina nadin pairing... charles leclerc x reader warning... none so far. petty charles and petty reader

note... i need everyone to pretend like all the text messages are in french. also no charles yet but lots of charles in the next part.

series masterlist main masterlist

part one → current part (part two) → part three

charles leclerc has never been on your podcast. it isn’t for the lack of trying per se but rather out of your own sheer stubbornness and need to protect your pride. chasing red, the motorsport podcast you’d built from the ground up, consists of you and your best friend emma. months ago, emma had emailed charles inviting him as a guest with emma alone as the host. it’s already unusual in itself considering you’re in every episode, but charles had replied to the email with a sort of snarkiness you aren’t used to but definitely not surprised to hear. 

dear emma,

if y/n wants me as a guest then she can contact me herself. thank you. sincerely, charles

it had been short and to the point and you’d rolled your eyes when you read it. if charles wanted to be petty then you’re certainly not about to appear on his doorstep begging him to come on your show. charles seems to forget that he’s gotten his pettiness from you. 

still, after that particularly irritating email, emma had been badgering you to explain what had happened. charles leclerc is the nice guy after all. who else would let ferrari fuck them over as much and still scream forza ferrari at the top of his lungs? according to emma, it’s simply impossible for charles to respond in such a way without some hidden history between the two of you. 

and she wouldn’t be wrong but you’d been able to keep that under wraps pretty well. you’ve kept your past right where it belongs – in the past and in your opinion, there’s simply no need to dig up old bones. of course, up until now as you watched with furrowed brows as your name trended on twitter. it seems no matter how deep you bury old bones, it comes back and haunts you – or in your case, bites you in the ass.

“you dated him!” you winced at emma’s sharp tone. you already feel a headache coming in – you hadn’t expected to be shoved down memory lane at a random tuesday if you’re being completely honest and you’re definitely not in the right state of mind to be dealing with it. 

“keep your voice down,” you say, putting your phone down and allowing yourself a sip of your coffee as you try to ignore emma’s incredulous looks. 

“you dated him?” she says again, in a sarcastic whisper this time that made you roll your eyes. you hated her sometimes. you love her of course, but you really hate her sometimes. 

and you hate whichever idiot got ahold of those photos. everyone seems to have so much to say but they can’t seem to comprehend that the charles and y/n in those photos aren’t the same charles and y/n now. you’re both grown now, no longer little kids fueled only with dreams and ambitions. now you’re fueled entirely by coffee and the will to not stalk his social media. 

you’re over charles leclerc. you’re so over him that you spend all your time applauding yourself just how over him you are. of course, you’ve seen charles around after the break up. you both live in monaco after all. it’s impossible not to accidentally pass by each other walking to the grocery store or be at the same restaurant or the same party. you’ve seen him around the paddock multiple times but neither of you say anything. sometimes your eyes meet and the familiarity in each other is difficult to ignore but mostly, you just walk past each other as though you’re strangers, as if you hadn’t spent your childhood memorizing the patterns in his eyes. 

you groaned at where your mind went. this is the last thing you want to be thinking – or talking – about at eight in the morning. you blame twitter and emma entirely for your predicament. it doesn’t help that you share an apartment with her too. 

“no comment,” you say finally at her expectant face. 

her little evil grin terrifies you as he picks up a stack of papers from the coffee table, placing it in front of you. “i’d suggest clearing the air between the two of you before thursday because you’re spending vegas with ferrari.” 

you almost spit your coffee as you grabbed the paper and double checked. unfortunately, there it is in plain sight, your sponsor team right next to ferrari. the document contains your schedule for vegas as an F1 presenter. you’ve been lucky enough not to be assigned to ferrari since you’ve been assigned the job three months ago. but alas, all your bad karma seems to have finally caught up with you today as you read through your itinerary, the first words being an ice breaker game with carlos sainz and charles leclerc proceeding with a hot lap with one of the drivers on friday. 

oh jesus christ, you’re screwed. 

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc and others

yourusername vegas ready and sporting red for the weekend!

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emmauser very excited for the weekend

⤷ yourusername 🖕🏻

⤷ username emma what do you know

username god have answered all my prayers and forced y/n and charles to finally interact

username watching the childhood lovers to strangers, forced proximity trope in real time

⤷ username i am so invested actually

username her and charles are my roman empire

⤷ username they have consumed every nook and cranny of my feeble brain im afraid

username now what in the booktok is going on

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#formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 one shot #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smau #smau #social media #formula 1 smau