#And maybe Lewis on the other arm bc I love him

[gayness-and-mayhem]

Is it a bad idea to get Morse in Morse code as a tattoo?

[lewisvinga]

this little life | carlos sainz x fem! reader

summary; when childhood lovers y/n and charles break up, it sends the whole internet into chaos. what sends them into an even bigger chaotic mess was the reasoning behind their breakup and who she turned to for comfort afterwards.

fc; cindy kimberly

warnings; cursing, cheating, slut shaming

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri

note; requested ! there’s a couple of typos on the tweets LMAO n i felt too lazy to fix ‘em🤕

masterlist !

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liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: moving onto bigger & better things.

yourbestfriend: AWOOGA

yourbestfriend: gorgeous gorgeous girls dgaf abt men

yourusername: gorgeous gorgeous girls would rather shop and drink lattes with their besties than deal w men

username: omg so it is true

username: YOU GO GLEN COCO

username: ‘better things’ CHARLES WAS PERFECT FOR U

username: any1 notice that carlos liked lol

username: he’s been following her for a few years now lol

username: just saying, why are u liking ur friends ex’s post a bit weird me thinks

username: well u thinks weird

username: ugh the makeup😻😻

username: im on mothers side of this divorce 🥸

username: whyd u break up w charlesssss

francisca.gomes: 😻😻 liked by yourusername !

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yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; 🥹] [caption 2; men who know your worth and treat you like you’re worth the whole world and more >>]

yourbestfriend replied to your story

yourbestfriend WHOOOOOOOOO

yourbestfriend that’s a hairy ass arm i know that’s not french boy

yourusername LMAO it’s not him don’t worry😁

yourbestfriend then WHO

yourusername maybe his not so little friend

yourbestfriend oh you bitch

yourbestfriend happiness looks good on u tho☹️ tell your new man that i won’t hesitate to throw hands at him

yourusername LMAO i’ll let him know😁

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liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: i think i like this little life 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨❤️‍🩹

tagged; carlossainz55

carlossainz55: 😍😍😍

yourusername: te quiero ❤️ [i love you]

yourusername: te quierooooo❤️‍🩹

username: uhm excuse me?????

username: oh !

username: well that’s….

username: this is such slutty behavior tbh, going from driver to driver months after breaking up w her CHILDHOOD BOYFRIEND🤢

username: literally a homie hopper

username: it’s such whorish behavior 💀

username: y’all talking abt y/n when this makes carlos SUCH a bad teammate, no wonder lewis is taking his seat

username: idc what y’all say they’re a FINEEEE couple

username: LITERALLY😩😩😩

yourbestfriend: hairy man gets a little pass from me……

yourusername: LMAOOOO

carlossainz55: u don’t gotta worry abt me trust🫡

username: this is SUCH nasty behavior from both of them

username: poor charles ☹️☹️

username: i always had a bad feeling abt her, guess its bc she’s a slut

username: breaking up with ur ex after dating since 15, then a few months get w his teammate?? that’s such gold digger behaviorrrrr

username: carlos is SUCH a shitty teammate, can’t even keep his dick in his pants and goes for his teammates ex, NASTY🤮🤮😷

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liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe, and others !

yourusername: think i like this little life more ever since the truth came out and i can live peacefully con mi amor. ❤️‍🩹

tagged; carlossainz55

carlossainz55: siempre contigo, mi vida [always with you, my life], through the good and the bad ❤️

yourusername: carlitoooos🥹🥹

username: she said FUCK the haters liked by yourusername !

username: how’d charles fuck up and fumble THEEE y/n

yourusername: bc his season ‘wasn’t going how he wanted it to be’ lolllll 🤓🤓🤓🤓

username: he doesn’t deserve u queen

lilymhe: cute but when are u and y/b/f coming to the paddock i miss my gfs 🕊️

yourusername: SOON MY LOVE

carlossainz55: why’re you trying to steal MY girlfriend

yourbestfriend: she was ours first MOVE BACK

yourbestfriend: gorgeous gorgeous girls find men who treat them right after dating liars and cheaters

yourusername: 😇

username: they could never make me hate u 💯

username: now can the haters stfu and focus on HOW FINE THEY ARE AS A COUPLEEEE

username: the first picture i’m so????

username: them<3

username: good for her that she finally found someone who treats her good🥹 yall were so co corned abt charles’ feelings w/o caring abt hers😕 liked by yourusername !

username: ppl alwayssss jump to conclusions w/o knowing the truth, but at least now we know💆‍♀️

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS AND THEIR FIRST KISS

WITH YOU

including boys from mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly

warning : none, some fluff

note : looks like i don't like max danny and pierre bc i didn't put any color for them but there's just no matching color on tumblr 😔

!! english not my first language !!

ᦈ OSCAR PIASTRI 81

on a date. he's a simple, romantic kind of guy but still he puts a lot of efforts to make everything perfect and special. he would brings you to the restaurant, offering you an luxurious meal just for you. or maybe an amusement park. whatever you like, as long as you enjoy the date. and then he'll takes you home, making sure he sees you walk inside your apartment and close the door behind you so that he knows you're all safe. but just before that, he would smiles with loving eyes and cups your face gently. maybe a bit hesitant at first, but then he leans in and captures your warm lips, kissing you as if it was the last time he could do it. but fortunately, it is the first and for sure not the last time that he will do it. and then when you disappear behind the wooden door he giggles so hard and can't stop smiling, still feeling the pleasant sensation.

ᦈ LANDO NORRIS 4

after a podium during a race. he jumps out of his car after winning a podium well deserved. he runs towards the engineers and the race team who are congratulating him for his fantastic job. everyone hugs him and pats his shoulder, head. he smiles brightly as he hugs back every single one person. and then your turn. next was you. he literally stop himself right in front of you. of course you congratulate him, saying that you are proud of him and everything. his smile widens , his gaze softens, and the second later his lips are on yours. he would kiss you roughly because of how much he craved to kiss you but still softly, he wants to savor every second of it. then he pulls out, stroking your rosy cheeks as the cameras takes loads of photos of you two, smiling at each other.

ᦈ CHARLES LECLERC 16

playing piano together and quick kiss. you guys would just randomly touch some keys of the piano, sharing the seat and so seating next to each other, shoulders pressed together. charles already loves your touch and closeness as he can also smells your sweet and fruity perfume which tickles his nose. then he starts playing a beautiful, romantic song that was actually meant for you. you just listen carefully to the melody, closing your eyes and feeling the emotion that seizes you. but the music stops suddenly, and you open your eyes confused. he places his thumb and forefinger on your chin to make you look at him, and when your eyes meet, he gets lost in them before suddenly placing a quick kiss on your lips. you blink, trying to process what just happened, and charles would just starts pecking all of your face, but mostly your lips.

ᦈ CARLOS SAINZ 55

like oscar, on a date. but a cooking or baking date. you invite him to your apartment and suggest cooking together and then after watch something on the tv. first, you guys would follow the recipe because of course you wanted to eat a delicious dinner. but gradually it become a mess and a food battle takes place. carlos would just throws you flour, or even draws some lines and patterns on your skin such as your arms, shoulders and of course your face. he also traces hearts on your cheeks with some ketchup on his finger. literally, just painting you with cute stuff. but the moment is just too funny and sweet, that now he's focused on your lips which forms a smile. i think he would go with something like "you have a stain here" and right after leans in and kiss you tenderly. but soon the cooking date would become a kissing and pecking session, almost forgetting about the recipe and dinner.

ᦈ LEWIS HAMILTON 44

waking up next to each other. you are already dating for some months now, but never you really kissed each other. in any case, never on the lips. you guys just going with pecks and kisses on the cheek, neck, forehead or hands. actually, every part of your faces except your lips. because maybe you were too shy but also it is something very important and special for both of you, especially hamilton. but now, you are both sleeping in your shared bed, you in lewis' arms. his grip is tight on your waist because he always wants to keep you close to him during the night. and the morning, he wakes up first. he looks down at you, eyes fluttering slowly as he admires your pretty sleepy face, a lazy smile glues on his lips. and then you wake up, crossing his lovely gaze. he would smiles wider and says "good morning love" before pressing for the first time his lips on yours. and his heart feels lighter, experiencing this new pleasant sensation.

ᦈ GEORGE RUSSEL 63

dancing in the rain. george takes you on a walk, because he just wanted to spend some time with you. just the two of you together. and you both like walking, maybe for some people it is boring but it's an another way to appreciate each other's presence and that was enough for you. he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers, gently stroking the top of your hand with his thumb. you walk for a while, sometimes stopping in front of store fronts until little water drops starts to fall from the sky. and then more and more water drops falls. now it is raining. a lot. so you decides to secure and stays underneath a bus stop. you waited and hoped the rain would calms down. but no, still raining a lot. and so george has this idea. he would grabs your hand and takes you with him under the rain. first you would be a bit angry, but when he starts dancing with you and laughing at te situation, you follow him and start to enjoy the moment. and the moment is so perfect, he has to kiss you. so he does it. your hot lips warms his person as he delights into the feeling. and no need to say it would be by now his favorite activity.

ᦈ MAX VERSTAPPEN 33

truth or dare game, but it is just true. a sleepover between max and your common friends was organized. and now it's time to go. you greet your friends as you walk inside the house, and smile brightly to max who is waving to you. you go to the bathroom to change into your pajama and then the sleepover starts. you're sitting next to max, mostly talking with him because of course he is your secret crush. one of your friend then suggests to play a truth or dare game, because it is something you all had the habit to do during nights like that. so the game starts, your friends mostly answering truth questions. then the bottle turns, and obviously it stopped right in front of max. he chooses dare. and fuck. the dare is to kiss someone present here. you feel weird, a bit awkward because you didn't want to see him kiss another girl. but max takes your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. and without realizing it, he's already kissing you. you kiss him back, and you can feel he struggles to pull back. and after he would whisper in your ear "the kiss was not a game. just my true feelings"

ᦈ DANIEL RICCIARDO 3

photoshoot kiss. daniel loves taking photos. especially of you, because he always says your his muse and you're super photogenic. so you two were on a trip right now. and of course daniel had to take his camera. to take lot of photos and make good memories. the landscape is just amazing. it is winter and christmas decorations and lights are everywhere in the streets. you stop walking to sit on a bench, taking a little break before going to a random restaurant you would find on your way. as you sit down, daniel takes his camera in his hands. and of course he had to take plenty photos of both of you, together, in this amazing place. he clicks on the button, and just can't stop taking photos. from smiling faces to funny faces, easily a hundred pictures have been taken. but one photo is missing. and daniel don't like when he don't have the perfect photo. so without thinking more, he places the camera in front of you to take a selfie and says "look at me". he clicks on the button and then as the flash lights you his lips captures yours. now you are all shy and he's just giggling, looking by now at his favorite photo for the rest of forever.

ᦈ PIERRE GASLY 10

during your birthday party. it is your birthday day, and a party have been organized by pierre, your best friend and your family. so when you come to the place, all eyes are on you. everyone is saying happy birthday and wishing you the best, but pierre can't take take off his eyes of you. you are just too beautiful. and then the party starts. people are dancing and singing, just enjoying the moment. you're sitting to a table with your closest friends, including pierre. you didn't remark it but he was just stealing glances at you. soon it is the the end of the party and all are playfully asking you to do a speech. you laugh shyly, not really wanting to do it but pierre's smile reassure you, so you just start speaking. you thank everybody of course, and after your speech pierre joins you, standing next to you. he would go with something like "this is my gift for you" and then after quickly kiss you. and kiss you once again but this time more deeply and tenderly, showing all of his love for his favorite birthday person.

[thepersonnamedsam]

you already know how much I love gen z driver! could you maybe write something of how would it be if gen z reader’s birthday happened to be during one of the gp’s? how everyone acts and makes it all about her?

happy birthday!

pairing: the genz!driver x '23!grid

summary: it’s the genz!drivers birthday, and it just happens to be the miami gp!

word count: 1.7k

warnings: some swear words and some google translated spanish and dutch :)

note: oh i just love all of your request, especially that one, bc i’m a birthday lover myself! have fun reading it and feel free to request more!! <3

masterlist/ taglist

The first people to congratulate her, were her parents. They called her, in the middle of the night; they forgot that time zones exist. But her heart was full when she picked up the phone at 3AM and both of her parents where singing ‚happy birthday‘ to her. What wasn’t so good, was that she had to be asleep, because it was a Sunday and race day! But it didn’t matter, it was her birthday!

Two hours later, her phone was ringing again, but this time not because someone was wishing her a happy birthday, no, it was her alarm. But today it was okay. 5AM on your birthday doesn’t feel that early, does it now? At least it didn’t for her.

Andy, her personal trainer, knocked on her door at exactly 6.30AM, holding a tiny cupcake with a candle in it. „Happy birthday, y/n!“, his voice cheerful and happy. Her smiled widened and her heart full with love again. „Thank you, Andy.“

„Are you ready for the race?“, Andy asked her. She nodded and closed her hotel door. „I’m excited to see Danny again and Nando and all the other people of course. Oh and definitely Lewis.“, Birthdays were her thing, she always missed them in school, either she had them on a weekend or she was on holiday. So, being surrounded by people who are important to her, was the best present she could’ve gotten.

On the way to the paddock, Andy let her pick out the music, her car playlist was blasting on full volume. Tongue Tied by GROUPLOVE was her favourite song at the moment, that’s why she was singing at the top of her lungs to the lyrics.

„Take me to your best friends house, go around this roundabout, oh yeah“, she looked at Andy as if he would follow the orders of the song.

The music died down, as they arrived at the paddock. Press was already waiting on her, they knew it was her special day and hoped to get some good footage of the birthday-girl. Usually the media annoyed her this early in the morning, but today, nothing could’ve ruined her day. She smiled and waved to the camera, spoke to some press people and had nice conversations with all of them.

The media always tried to find some gossip, especially on the young driver, but not today. They were happy to see her this happy.

As she set foot on the paddock, people were congratulating her. Pads on the back, some strokes on her arm here and there, everyone was nice to her, and who doesn’t enjoy some attention sometimes. Especially if it’s for something you didn’t work for. It was her favourite day of the year, Christmas is second.

„Danny!“, she shrieked as soon as she saw him. She sprinted towards the Australian and jumped into his arms. „I missed you so bad!“ Daniel just laughed and hugged the young driver. „Happy birthday, y/n.“

Her smile was consistent and contagious, every person she smiled at, they just had to smile back. Even Max smiled at her. Well, he always smiled at her, she was one of the persons that could make him smile.

„Max, can you give me a piggyback ride?“, she looked at him with puppy dog eyes and he just couldn’t deny her. „Of course, zus sister.“

As Martin Brundle spotted the two, he motioned to his cameraman to put the focus on them. „And now we see Max Verstappen carrying the birthday girl y/n. It is not rare to see the young driver interact with the different drivers. Let’s wish her a happy birthday“, he talked into the camera. „Hello you two, happy birthday y/n, am I the first to congratulate?“, the older man looked at her with an amusing look on his face. „Martin, as much as I love you, you are hopefully not the first person to wish me a happy birthday“, she looked at him with a serious face.

„Did Max congratulate yet?“, a challenging look on Martins face, he pointed at the camera and said: „Remember, this is a livestream.“, Max‘ cheeks turned a pretty pink colour and y/n gasped. „He did not!“, she gasped. „Max, you didn’t wish me a happy birthday?!“ - „I’m sorry, schat darling. Happy birthday, my dear.“

But how could she hold a grudge against a face that looked like Sid from Ice Age?

Fernando was the next person she saw, and he instantly grinned at her. „Oh Nando, do you know whose special day it is today?“, she singsang to the oldest driver on the grid. „Hmm, let me guess, is it Roscoes?“, he laughed as he saw her shocked face. „How could you, I thought we were friends?“ - „We are, we are, cariño darling. Feliz cumpleaños happy birthday, y/n.“

„How old are you now, 5?“, he laughed at her. „Har har, very funny Nando. How old are you turning this year, 60?“ She was always getting irritated fast. He grabbed her by her hip and pushed her into a side hug of his. „Don’t ever change, cariño.“

„Don’t have a plan for that, who’d change something as fabulous like this“, her hands were pointing to herself. „But on a serious note, Nando, do you know where Lewis is? I’ve been searching for him.“ Fernando only shook his head, he didn’t know where the British driver was. He rubbed over her hair as she left his side to search for her mentor.

„Oh Lewis! Your favourite person is looking for you“, she shouted over the paddock, with no luck. She didn’t even see a trace of Lew, none. But what she did find, was a monegasque driver with the number 16 and a spaniard driving under the number 55. They were arguing over some bullshit, as always, as they spotted her. „y/n! Over here“, Charles shouted over to her and waved his hand. She ran over to them and greeted the older drivers with a side hug. Carlos quickly kissed her head as he wished her a brilliant birthday. Charles even sang the first to lines of the song.

She was a bit embarrassed, but she enjoyed the attention of the two Ferrari drivers. „I love you guys, but have you seen Lewis?“, she smiled at the two as they rolled their eyes. She just wanted to see her favourite person on the paddock. She loved them all equally, but you couldn’t deny that Lewis definitely was her favourite. „I think I saw him at Mercedes, his motorhome“, Charles told her, she totally missed the sarcastic undertone of his and just skipped along to the Mercedes garage.

Before she even set a foot in the motorhome, Toto Wolff approached her and squished her into a hug. „Alles gute zum Geburtstag, liebes! Happy birthday, darling! How are you, so happy to see you“, he whispered into her ear. She loved Toto. „Hi Toto!“, she grinned up at him, „I’m good, thank you. Do you know where Lewis is?“ Toto laughed and pointed to his drivers room. „Thanks!“, she yelled as she took off.

She hasn’t been to her own motorhome, just wandering around the paddock and taking in all the attention from the others. And as she knocked on the door, she knew she’d receive the best attention of them all.

„It’s open“, she heard and busted into the tiny room. „Hello, your favourite human on this planet has arrived and will be gracing your presence from now on!“ She grinned at him and he only laughed and embraced the girl. „I have a present for the birthday girl? do you know where she is“, he joked and turned around to grab her present. „A present? Aw Lewis, you shouldn’t have, you totally should have.“

The present contained some gag gifts, such as a Mercedes hat and shirt, or some shirts with funny pattern on it. But the original present was a necklace. It wasn’t anything special, really. It was a simple silver necklace with a tiny turtle as a pendant. Her eyes were tearing up, so she quickly wiped them away.

„Is this one of the necklaces that makes you a godparent of a sea turtle?“ - „It sure is, have fun with“ he turned the pendant around and looked at the engraving on it „Yertle. He is now your godchild“, he smiled at her and motioned to y/n to turn around, so he could put the necklace on. „Thank you so much, it means a lot“, she hugged him as a thank you. He smiled at her, he adored the young driver and was grateful that he was apart of her journey.

„Thank you, love you Lewis!“, she yelled to him as she sprinted out of the motorhome. She was finally headed to her own garage. They had planned a surprise party for her and Lewis was the distraction. As she reached her motorhome, she didn’t see anyone. „Hello, is it not race day?“, she joked into the dark.

„Happy birthday, y/n!“

She jumped, her heart was racing, but she had a giant smile on her face. Her heart, once again, was full, full with love.

„Ahh, thank you guys!“, she squealed and sprinted into the engineers and mechanics, just like she won a race, which she hasn’t, by the way. She hugged all of them, thanked all and smiled the biggest smile she ever smiled. „I’m so grateful for all of you! And now, let’s win this race!“

She didn’t win, but was one of her best birthdays so far. And the after party was her personal highlight of the day. There was a huge pile of presents, just for her of course.

Lando was the DJ, Max was standing on a table, preparing to do a toast for her and Danny was laughing and pointing his camera at everybody.

The evening was definitely something she’d remember, maybe not Max‘ toast, as it was very embarrassing;

„Dear people, we have gathered here to celebrate not only my win, but also a birthday of some special person. She is not our girlfriend, which we are all happy about, but they’re all jealous of her, y/n! Happy birthday, you beast, come up here!“

The alcohol definitely made it more bearable, but the fact that Pierre had to drag you to Mac spoke for itself.

„Pierre, let me be, go back to your boyfriend“, she spoke harshly to the French man, but he ignored her with a smirk on his face and brought her up to Max.

„Ladys and gents, the birthday girl herself!“

It was one of the better party’s she attended and when she looked at all the posts she’s been tagged, she found one particular that she liked the most.

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yninsta, charles_leclerc and 473’827 others

daniel3.jpg happy birthday to my personal favourite female driver of all time! let’s raise a glass or two, to all the things i’ve lost on you ;)

View all 4638 comments

yninsta i am the only female driver…

landonorris that’s why your his fav

yninsta rude af

daniel3.jpg don’t fight kids

charles_leclerc happy birthday y/n!

carlossainz55 yeah, feliz compleaños to our fav girl

pierregasly liked by pierre gasly

f1girly we love all the drivers in the comments, y/n is definitely the paddock princess

likedbypear oh yes, idk if i want to be her or with her

yninsta be definitely with me, c’mon

neymarjr happy birthday y/n!

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21

[ferrstappen]

max, the wag (for the third time) l Max Verstappen x reader

a/n: i was in the middle of writing this when news of Danny coming back to the grid!!! omg I'm so happy of seeing RIC and listening to his radios and everything, it wasn't the same without him <3

also, about requests. Please keep sending them, I've LOVED all the reqs I've gotten but right now im getting ready for my bar exam in a couple of weeks so my time is super super limited, but I promise I'll get to most of them (bc imsorry there are some reqs that I really can't connect with) after the exam, it's one of the things I'm looking forward to <3 but for now this kind of mediocre story telling will have to do...

ANYWAY, HOPE YOU LIKE THIS INSTALLMENT! you can find part 1 and 2 on the master list <3

summary: the continuation of your favorite paddock couple.

Max arrived to the track by himself.

If he was being honest, it wasn’t on his plans to walk alone with the photographers, Red Bull marketing team snatching him for stuff right after he swapped his credential. Even from far away he was able to hear chants of fans and more media than usual. 

But you weren’t right there next to him. 

He knew it wasn’t your fault, Silverstone not being a track where he was usually welcomed with opened arms and he was aware of you not wanting to be too in the eye of photographers who didn’t make questions to you, but there still were different WAGs and outfits or whatever accounts tracking your every step, especially with the new wave of partners and sudden break ups and polemics. 

Still, the selfish part of him wanted you to enter the track with him, even if it was a few steps ahead or behind him, holding your hand and smiling as you complained about the amount of credentials you had to carry: the usual green VIP Paddock, Red Bull something. You’d think after all these years they’d know me, you’d say and he’d laugh.

On the other hand, you finished getting ready and called the front desk to get a taxi to get there, feeling a bit guilty of letting Max go on his own, especially when there were more eyes on the track with Brad Pitt being there and a lot of important people who’d want to talk with him all day. 

Texting Max to let him know you were already by the guests entrance waiting when you noticed some intense flashes getting near. You’d been around a time or two to know this wasn’t usual, maybe in Miami but not when you were on the abandoned back entrance, not very glamorous and low key. 

But you saw her…

Shakira, are you visiting Lewis?

Who are you cheering today?

Shakira, third Grand Prix of the year! 

Did you talk to Lewis before? Is he nervous?

Your eyes followed her, mouth opening when you followed her small frame, exuding class and sympathy, even Alexandra who was also making her entrance stopped to get a closer look of the Colombian bombshell. 

Of course, they didn’t ask her to show and get accredited, she just walked by with a radiant smile leaving paparazzi behind as she kept talking with the friend she came with. 

But wasn’t that a Haas credential?

It didn’t matter, it wasn’t important, because right then your brain made the connections and started dialing Max while nervously biting your polished nails. 

“Baby, everything okay? Are you already inside?” Max answered, but his words were quiet and rushed. 

“Yes, but you’re never going to believe…”

“I’m sorry we have a meeting, please don’t go to the paddock, go straight to the driver’s lounge, okay? Love you” 

He hung up and you wanted to pull your hair out, knowing he is the one and only person you wanted to share this information with, and you were also certain he was the only person who would truly appreciate the gossip and speculation about his fellow driver’s love life. 

Max was able to leave the meeting almost forty minutes later, getting outside for some air until he remembered your call and that you probably were bored to death on the lounge. He was turning around to go there when…

When he saw the one and only Shakira in all of her glory. 

He wasn’t starstruck or anything, being immune to celebrities and the imaginary pedestal where most people placed them, but this wasn’t about that, it was about the way she was supposedly hiding under a cap walking towards the Mercedes garage.

He covered his mouth and hastily made his way to you. 

You didn’t greet each other with the usual peck on the lips and short hug; his slightly widened blue eyes told you exactly what you needed to know as he opened the door to his small room. 

“Please tell me that you saw her!” You said as soon as he closed the door. 

“Yes, just now she was walking to Mercedes,” Max was whisper shouting as if someone would hear him and it was the highest of secrets. 

“Did you see Lewis?” You asked Max but he said no. “What if you try to ask Brad Pitt if he saw her and like if they’re friends… with Shakira?” This time both you and your boyfriend laughed at the idea.

"I did see Sainz trying to go unnoticed with a tall brunette,do you think she is the new girlfriend?" Max asked and you nodded.

"I'm pretty sure he cheated on Isa with her, and I am almost certain she was in the Paddock Club in Monaco during qualifying," Max whistled at the new information.

Now he kissed you, lips fitting perfectly against each other, but your eyes suddenly opened and separated from him. What? Why? What happened? Max was disconcerted. 

“Please don’t laugh at me because this is a serious idea…” You told Max who had your entire attention. “What if we write to Deuxmoi?”

“Deux what?”

“They have all the inside scoops  and sightings, even your name’s popped up once or twice,” Max’s eyebrows rose at the information. “We should write that Shakira was seen on the British Grand Prix and I am one hundred percent sure someone will have more information!” You proposed and Max chuckled.

“Schatz, I can just ask Lewis why she’s here,” Max told you before embracing you, his arms circled around your waist.

You rolled your eyes before resting your head on his chest, but suddenly it hit you, swiftly lifting your head and facing Max. 

“Then why haven’t you asked him yet?!”

[l8tof1]

kat, did you see that lewis was wearing grillz yesterday at his paddock race thing with esteban? he looked so good i love his friendship with este :))

did u see the gifs of este putting his arm around lewis when they were racing? 🥲🥲

he's so soft and caring towards lewis when others often seem to keep so much distance to him (whether that’s bc he makes it clear he wants his own space or just due to the history of who he is in f1 or maybe people genuinely don’t care to show a level of care towards him... :/)

but there's so many moments of este caring for lewis, especially: "are you alright?", telling lewis "toto believes in you", interrupting specifically to reassure lewis that the race was tough on all of them, not just lewis. also, patting lewis' tummy as any normal person would, given the chance.

[inchidentally]

https://www.tumblr.com/landoom/750752502494953472/they-touched-victorian-courting-vibes-its-been?source=share ooh?

a year and a half on and I do not know what the hell to do with their thing about touch ???

bc it's actually smth that developed alongside them not posting each other on their sm as much which bizarrely coincided w them getting more comfortable together and clearly getting closer ?? at the very start Lando was always slinging an arm around Oscar's shoulders bc he was still trying to play 'older veteran driver' until he finally realized he didn't like that role and that Oscar sees Lando as small and full of mischief and cute. same w him posting Oscar a lot at first and Oscar replying and it seeming for a long time like Daniel-era Lando and Prema-era Oscar would be the fun duo we'd be getting out of them.

but then that started changing as they spent more time together and the Silverstone fan stage/Austin filming Temporal Shifts happened and they became what they are now. so they got closer as friends/teammates, developed an easy and unique dynamic all their own and that cute little "crush" on each other. but it's coincided w them becoming more private when not doing McLaren content and us only finding out that they'd spent down time together after the fact.

and then this funny little distance happened at the same time where they gravitate toward being physically close and Lando wriggles and pushes into Oscar's space where it looks calm and nice and warm. the most blokey physical interaction they've ever had was during the goggles challenge when they tackled over the football at the end for like 2 seconds. but they're physically incapable of being 'rough' or blokey w each other otherwise when they're both totally fine with it with other guys! Lando loves having male friends treat him like a chew toy and Oscar may not be quite as physical but he'll smack someone if they're being too stupid to live and he'll nap right next to anyone who happens to have claimed a nap spot nearby and other guys have no problem knocking him around. but even the sarcasm they'd both always use with other men softened up towards each other and it's more domestic chiding than being-mean-for-jokes.

like if it was similar to a Kmag and Nico or Zhou and Val situation where they're friendly enough but it's a purely work thing then they'd act like either of them. same w George and Lewis tbh. they've all got the Man Code of jokes and back slaps and maybe a half bro hug.

but instead Lando and Oscar watch each other closely when the other isn't looking and have these gentle little private smiles and do the slightly creepy mind-reading thing that even weirds Andrea out a bit and they get drawn together physically in a very natural, comfortable 'us against them' way.

but oh !! it's So Much to put their hands on each other or push their bodies together !! even when they do a handshake it lasts so long !!

[according2thelore]

do you guys think the ls boys would take the younger ones on a (normal, non-apocalyptic) hunt? bc I could see that going one of two ways:

1. smothering overprotectiveness, literally checking that es!boys guns’ are loaded correctly before they head out. es!dean can barely get a glimpse of the werewolf bc sam is literally standing in front of him the whole time.

2. LS salmondean are so used to hunting with each other and being at the top of their game and having SUCH faith in their brother’s abilities that they very much are out of step with their younger selves, like: sam tosses the lighter behind him without looking, thinking es!dean will naturally catch it & light ‘em up, but dean is fully across the graveyard swinging an iron poker. this ends up with an easy hunt being kind of a disaster and someone gets hurt (maybe es!sam — if it’s s1 sam, he’s by far the least experienced & most out-of-practice of all of them).

(it seems you guys are getting tons of asks feel free to ignore this if it’s stressful!!!! i do not need a reply i just love your thoughts)

HOLY SHIT!!!!

I CAN SEE EVERY EQUATION!!! YOUR BRAIN!!!! IS A MASSIVE BRAIN!!!!!!!!

i had to write them both because WHAT

if they go hunting, it's small, and it's unavoidable.

LS!Dean picks up a newspaper out of habit when he does the shopping that week, and on the front page in ink-smeared gory detail, lewis dalton, age 57 found dead in home, ripped to shreds. no sign of forced entry. lived alone.

ES!Sam finds the newspaper.

"hey. this is our thing, right? it's up in hastings. that's pretty close."

LS!Dean keeps trying to demur like well, no, someone else will take care of it. he can call some friends, and they'll check it out.

"are they closer?"

"well, no, but--"

"what's the harm? let me go tell the others."

and they come to a (hesitant) agreement that, yeah, they're probably best suited to it. because things that rip people to shreds don't usually stop at just one hamburger helper.

it's the quickest hunt ever because LS!Sam&Dean don't let ES!Sam&Dean even see the monster

it turns out to be the vengeful ghost of the vic's uncle.

before they even get there, LS!Sam&Dean do a full weapons check. they take practice swings with all of their iron implements, and mutter to each other about which ones have the "best balance" and the "most force." they solemnly present ES!SalmonDean with their weapons, an iron pipe and iron poker, respectively.

LS!SalmonDean keep trading worried looks the whole way to the cemetery, and ES!SalmonDean feel weirdly like they have two overprotective dads driving them to a hockey match with a notoriously intimidating team of middle schoolers.

they do a checklist when they get out of the car, and ES!Sam's eyes widen when he sees LS!Dean pull four gas cans out of the trunk.

"are we lighting the whole cemetery on fire?" he asks

"it's a back-up." LS!Dean says soberly.

"all three?"

"yes. wait until you see how many match books i brought."

he makes ES!Sam put five in each pocket.

they track it down to a cemetery outside of town, and ES!Sam&Dean don't protest too heavily when LS!Sam&Dean say they've got the grave-digging covered. it's a little condescending, but a) no physical labor is a plus and b) holy goddamn mother of good god. the sweating. the panting. the flushed cheeks. the bulging muscles. it's like a chippendales show.

when the ghost pops up, LS!Sam vaults out of the grave one-armed like an olympian and knocks it away with an iron poker before backing up towards ES!Dean, head on a swivel.

ES!Dean's picked up his iron, but LS!Sam is standing so close that he ends up having to hold it mostly out to his side. LS!Sam is circling him quickly, making sure that nothing has the chance to sneak up on him.

"two o'clock!" LS!Dean shouts from the grave, even though he's dozens of feet away, like the older winchesters had worked this out beforehand, and ES!Dean looks up, but LS!Sam's bulk is in the way. ES!Dean tries to swerve around him, but LS!Sam is already reacting, shielding dean with a single minded focus as he takes a swipe at the ghost presumably there.

LS!Sam even has a hand out behind him, making sure ES!Dean isn't going to do something stupid like help on the hunt that they came here to do.

ES!Dean feels like the president. he's pretty sure if he sneezed really hard, LS!Sam would whip out his gun and start shooting individual dust motes out of the air.

ES!Sam wants to help, as he can see LS!Sam is wedged between ES!Dean and the ghost that's coming after them doggedly. but LS!Dean whistles to catch his attention, and nods back down at the grave.

ES!Sam jumps down into the grave to help, and has been digging for a few minutes when he hears a screech--abruptly close. he startles, looking up, and LS!Dean is panting and throwing his iron weapon aside before jumping back into the grave. when the fuck did he crawl out?

"did the--why didn't you say--"

"no big deal," LS!Dean pants, wiping blood from his temple. "it was barely there for a second."

they crawl out of the grave when they're ready to salt and burn, and when ES!Sam starts to run away--about to take a swing at the ghost coming after them--LS!Dean drops the book of matches with a curse and overtakes him, swinging his iron girder shard with a strength that--if there were a baseball and not a ghost there--would have broken world records.

LS!Dean at one point literally picks up ES!Sam by the waist and puts him out of harm's way, to which ES!Sam shouts, startled, and flails.

ES!Sam manages to run back to the grave and light the matches and drop them into the grave. the bones light.

the bones finally burn completely, and the four of them stand above the grave, watching them crumple into ash.

LS!Sam&Dean are panting, covered in sweat, dirt, grass, and blood. ES!Sam has mud on his boots. ES!Dean is blinking, confused, because he's not sure what the fuck just happened.

"that was fun!" LS!Dean says, wiping sweat from his forehead. "i have never been more stressed in my life. can we go home now?"

total time seeing the ghost: Sam, 32.51 seconds; Dean, the 44.09 seconds it took for LS!Sam to run back to him with the force and single-minded killer instinct of the terminator, a sight so simultaneously arousing and frightening that dean's dick gave up in confusion

this is the worst hunt anyone has ever been on, they collapse in a heap of tangled limbs at the entrance of the house, it's a miracle they don't accidentally kill each other

as soon as they get they get a lead on the werewolf, it's followed the vic's brother--don--to the vic's house, where he's boxing up lewis's belongings.

don is already a werewolf glove when they get there--the werewolf's got one hand inside of his stomach, and his leg is torn apart below the right knee.

LS!Dean whips off his belt to use as a tourniquet, and tosses it to LS!Sam who catches it without even blinking, moving as one unit.

ES!SalmonDean run head-first at the thing, and ES!Dean gets tossed bodily through the dining table. ES!Sam sneaks up behind it and gets his gun with silver bullets knocked out his hands as the beast whirls around and tries to tackle him.

LS!Dean can't take a shot because if the bullet goes through, it will hit ES!Sam, so he jumps on its back like a madman and uses his body weight to throw them both back. it lashes out at LS!Dean, who now has no belt, and rips his pants right off. its claws tear straight through the waistband of his jeans, and leave a nasty rake on his left thigh.

LS!Dean, pantless, reassesses his strategy. ES!Dean is just now getting up, and is shocked to see his own bare legs. it takes him a full fifteen seconds to realize that those are in fact, not his own legs.

ES!Sam, taking his moment, runs back to the supply bag that's next to LS!Sam, who has effortlessly applied a tourniquet to Don's leg, and is applying pressure to his abdomen.

LS!Sam is rooting with his other hand in the bag, getting ready to help LS!Dean in the fight, but ES!Sam bats his hands away.

"oh my god. i'm dead. there are triplets with guns!" don mutters, delirious. and okay. there are only two of them. but alright. allowances can be made for hypovolemia.

"i've got it! back off!" ES!Sam shouts, knocking LS!Sam's hands away more firmly.

"dean has no pants!" LS!Sam roars, and both deans go,

"not my fault!" and "stop looking at him!" simultaneously.

a sound like a dog yelping from behind them, and they turn around to see ES!Dean and the werewolf take each other to the floor.

"did you fucking punch it?" LS!Dean screams, chasing after the tangled, tumbling ball of fur and leather that's rolling wildly across the floor.

"i panicked! i goddamn panicked!" ES!Dean screeches, shoving the leg of the destroyed table into the werewolf's mouth that it bites almost clean in half.

ES!Sam finally finds another gun buried under the chains and lock picks and assorted knives.

"i've got the silver!" ES!Sam shouts, trying to jump over LS!Sam, who sits up at that exact moment to receive a full-strength kick straight to the brain.

LS!Sam is unconscious. the vic is still bleeding out. LS!Dean is trying to bodily force the werewolf off of his younger self, who is hitting the werewolf on the head with the two halves of his now-broken table leg and shouting obscenities like the world's worst drummer.

ES!Sam yells, "dean! catch!" because someone has to hold pressure on this wound now that LS!Sam is unconscious, and slides the gun as hard as he can in LS!Dean's direction.

bad thing: there are two deans.

they both instinctively turn around to catch whatever has just been thrown, and the werewolf that had been resisting LS!Dean's arms now slams into ES!Dean underneath him at full force, who was now splayed, arms open on the hardwood.

ES!Dean now has at least two broken ribs. and slobber in his hair. he kicks out at the original crack of his fucking bones and the gun goes skittering in the other direction, so LS!Dean chases after it. as soon as he has it, he whips around and shoots all nine bullets into the werewolf's back across the room.

ES!Dean is now covered in blood, has broken ribs, and thinks--for a second--that holy shit! he just got shot!

LS!Dean has no pants.

he is also bleeding profusely from his asscheek.

ES!Sam is three inches deep in don dalton's abdomen.

LS!Sam is groggily waking up, also covered almost to the elbows in blood, and with a knot the size of a baseball on his head.

"you just committed suicide, fucker!" ES!Dean wails, before he realizes. oh. okay. he's fine.

they all shakily stand up (except for ES!Sam, who drops LS!Sam's cell phone into Don's abdomen, then wipes the blood off on his jeans while dialing 9-1-1 (thank god for face id on these newfangled cell-phones. sam's phone is a little confused, but yeah? that's the same facial structure it guesses.)).

"let's do this again" ES!Dean says, before throwing up all over his boots.

~~~

which one it ends up being i think depends entirely on what the monster is, and how far along they are in this little misadventure. i think as time goes on, they'd be able to be more reasonable about their younger selves. at first, it's hard, because it's such a shock. ES!Sam is not a baby, but to LS!Dean, that is literally his baby. it would take him a couple of weeks? months? to recognize the fact that these are adult men that have experience in the life.

personally, i favour the former because it makes me giggle and twirl my hair but practically, the latter is more likely.

and do not apologize! i love getting these asks and hearing from y'all! i worry i'm bothering my mutuals with them--i'm sorry mutuals! i love you! so much! i am kissing you!

charlotte's been busy w work, but honestly she's dodging a lizzy-sized bullet bc i am thinking abt these boys all day.

thanks again for this ask, anon! your brain! i loved your little descriptions of each scenario! brilliance!

ps, i went more humorous with the second, but oh lord. you've got me thinking about The Angst. oh gosh. i might have to...i might have to make a full narrative ficlet about it. would that be something you would be interested in?

regardless, mwah! <3

-lizzy

[leclerced]

I love bed with Lance. Other drivers just take notes on “WHAT NOT TO DO” while looking at Lance I swear

oscar starting a gc to roast lance w all of them. the first thing he says is “we all eat bunny’s pussy right?” and the guys are confused but all agree enthusiastically some of them arguing ab who is better, and lance is silent. oscar texts “did y’all know lance doesn’t eat pussy?” and suddenly he’s the butt of every inside joke on the grid that no one except the men in that group chat understand. they’re making digs at him during grill the grid when they get asked questions like “if you had to go out to dinner with another driver who would you go with” and they ones in the gc say shit like “not lance bc he’s bad at eating out, can’t take him anywhere” and make it seem like its ab going to a restaurant but they’re all cracking up and no one gets why its so funny. ppl not fucking bunny, so they’re not in the group chat, give normal answers like “oh lewis bc he pays!”

seb would come to a race weekend and make a joke about it to lewis like “can u believe this guy? i would get on my knees for her right now if she asked.” no mics catch what is said but a camera catches him with lewis, oscar, and lance and ppl are confused bc it’s such a weird group to be hanging out on the paddock?? but more contused about what was said like why does the retired father figure still have inside jokes w lewis hamilton that even rookie oscar is laughing at while lance stands there awkwardly 😭 maybe bunny’s there wrapped in oscar’s arms and she’s laughing too and swatting at seb’s arm to tell him to stop

[sugar-petals]

sub!𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 🌹║ 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠  𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 

↳ smut A-Z / 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓

【ＧＥＮＲＥ】› smut/angst/fluff + monaco gp au

【 ♥ pairing.】charles x reader

words. 🍒 16k — bc 16 is a good number :)

WARNINGS/TAGS. ⚠️ 18+ (mdni), pwp, sub charles oh là là, bondage, femdom + vanilla dynamics, face sitting, suits kink, protected sex, pegging, anal play, masochism, oral, multiple sex partners mention, alcohol mention, French language kink who knew

↳ [ // 🍓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. ] i like my alphabets long with feelings and sub plots: pun intended 😂 you’ll find parts that are romantic, sad & horny, the rest is fun, now let’s get into it. 🍌

posted: july 7, 2022

【 read it on AO3 】

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

One of the best parts of sex, he’s one sucker for you. Charles loves getting aftercare so much, ending up lost in your eyes because he can’t help it. Jeez, his cuddliness. And god, he smells so good. Charles is blushy, and he’s and clingy, and he talks so much. Face buried in your hoodie kind of affectionate. It always has you wondering, why does Charles love me so much, why does he act this way, like a literal puppy. But he just likes being looked after this way after he satisfied you. Behind all those layers of ambition and stress, there is only needy and dependent Charles left — he won’t lie about it.

In contrast to him, you keep it efficient. And relatively short, never exceeding 20 minutes, but it’s oh so vital. Less is more sometimes. A glass of water for Charles and he feels refreshed: „Merci beaucoup, mon rêve.“ — he calls you `my dream´ very often. A little lotion on his back and legs is just as quick, and he’s ready to sleep. Lighting some incense, candles, or bringing him a big cup of tea. Putting on a vintage movie on a beamer and just embracing to snuggle, barely listening to the dialogue in the background since you turned down the volume deliberately. If you denied your darling pillow prince his orgasm earlier, you will gently suck him off now, sloppy enough for little bubbles to start forming around your lips. You make sure your favorite blue-white cotton duvet is within reach just like towels. Gotta stay warm and covered afterwards.

On other days, you like to go the extra mile. You switch on the big red popcorn machine or make some light pink cotton candy. Cherry flavored, of course. His mom always gifts him these fancy kitchen machines for fun, but she’s right: More delicious things for Charles. His secret sweet tooth is actually adorable. Ferrari’s dietician comes for Charles, but not for you, so this is the ultimate loophole. Charles and his cotton candy have become inseparable. He just loves to pull those fuzzy strings out of the `main cloud´ as he calls it. Or, laughs his ass off when his lashes get caught in it. They’re so long, how can he blame `em.

Dose of head pats, lots of water chugging — no coffee, rule of the house. As a wise British prophet (King Lewis the 44th) once said: Coffee is disgusting! You’re keeping it healthy, Charles he wants to sleep tight in your arms later, after all. Instead, sweat wiping. Forehead kisses. Snack bars. Charles needs a quick fix here and there. But he’s very relieved of some heavy stress, and very smiley. You feel content and proud, but usually not with a weight off your shoulders since there was hardly any to begin with. You’re with Charles, your everything. Your angel and treasure, and your beauty. Just looking at his friendly face once can suffice to destress for three days in a row. If you do the math: Looking at him ten times equals one month without tribulations. That’s the energy.

What’s absolutely expected: He appreciates your idea to run a bath after sex recently. This man might as well live in the tub permanently. „Grown any gills yet?“ — a frequent favorite quip of yours. Maybe he should pin wheels to the whole thing, paint it red, and roll up at the starting grid with this next-generation Ferrari. Nickname: The Merman of Maranello. Nothing else on but some yellow trunks and shiny designer shades. He’s gonna win a Championship with that in no time. New Ferrari Masterplan unlocked: Charles drives his bathtub to P1. But anyway, we digress. Aftercare.

Charles loves to be bathed and lathered in jasmine shampoo. You like to shave him when he’s covered in foam like that. His axilla, chest, or neck, just because the sound is satisfying and Charles enjoys this type of personal attention. Aftercare with Charles Leclerc can turn anyone into a soft domme or service top. You take your extra time to towel him down bit by bit, and make him feel luxurious in a way that even his salary can’t. You will admit to Charles that you like to pamper him, and that makes him give you a very sheepish look. Is he flustered? Yes, he is.

Aftercare is filled with conversation. You know how he can suddenly talk like a waterfall, lots of exclamations and dramatique expressions? That’s exactly the atmosphere. Free-flowing chats. Charles talks about himself in 3rd person pretty often, which is cute. Little spoon all the way, too, this guy is like a human kitten. Likes to suck on your fingers with a cheeky, blissed-out expression. It’s a go-to favorite to calm himself a little and to have his lips busy on you. Definitely an aftercare hugger rather than a direct kisser. He wants to breathe deeply now. And be softly tickled, it’s perfect to make him laugh. The sweet bun, no wonder his name rhymes with éclair.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

As far as you observed him at the bathroom sink, Charles is super into his hair recently. He’s trying out new products, often things you bought him as a casual gift to spoil your honey boy. It’s the personalized things that make Charles feel special to you. Since last month, he talks about how much shine and definition he can achieve. The helmet ruins his whole effort in one go, but he’s trying. Even consulting his barber on it. Always learning from the professionals.

As for his body as a whole. He’s still not admitting to his height, but at one point you said, silence bottom. You look good. You look nice. You’re a cutie pie. Head to toe. The whole world likes you. And you’re serious, because the entirety of your boyfriend is more important than whether he towers over you or not. He’s compact and huggable, what’s not to like. He got everything to hold on to, the arms, the shoulders. Even his pecs are growing nowadays, those tight white shirts look damn good on him. Wet t-shirt contest when? Father, son, and the house of Ferrari: That sight would be mindblowing.

People think his appeal is mysterious. To you, Charles’ handsomeness can be explained in simple terms. Everything about him is pleasant. That photogenic masterpiece, look at him. The Orlando Bloom of Formula 1. Any angle does him good. His way of coming across, his speaking, his gaze, his humor, his smile. All pleasant. Nothing upsets the ear, the eye. He is polite, he is pretty, with the exact amount of being gorgeously sexy on top. His face is banging, his body is shapely, what more does anyone need. That he’s often a little confused without even intending to just adds to his overall charm.

Being good with people is the cherry on top. Charles having a hundred social graces and winning people over with a simple „could you please repeat the question, sorry“ — I mean come on. The thing is. If you put him next to a Men’s Health magazine cover, he probably won’t meet whatever white guy beauty standards of the time, in whatever circles, whatever trend it is now. He’s not carrying around a 10-pack, he’s not a 6’3 spaghetti noodle, and doesn’t crank out an itty bitty waist either. Your man’s neck looks like he got it from a different person. And yet— Charles is the ultimate magnet. What is it?

Oh honey… it’s the demeanor. People so crucially forget his ways of expression factoring in. Charles’ body language. Why does nobody ever mention that. It’s very readable. That makes someone so easy to approach and like. You love his mannerisms and point them out often. Charles is always surprised he’s even doing these things. This guy even shifts from one foot to the other like he’s dancing 24/7, so. Even more attractiveness points.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Plays with it using the tips of his godly fingers when he gets you off in the evening — “Oh my god. You’re incredibly wet.” His job is all about working with his hands all day, every day, after all, finding the right buttons. So, Charles got that down, rest assured.

Loves the sounds, loves to make you cum slowly but surely, calling you oh mon amour while doing so. Prepare for his hooded bedroom eyes and him licking off his fingers like it’s icing. His hand coordination… it’s criminally insane what this guy can do with your clit. I believe it’s magic. Charles is an epicure but also a loverboy, he does all of this without expecting you to do anything in return. Just lean back and enjoy.

Meanwhile. Brace yourself, Monsieur. You have some other plans when the mood is right. Charles is definitely up against a caliber here. Your latest fantasy is ruining one of his ultra-expensive Italian suits with some crazy debauchery. Jacking him off in all directions, no mercy. And squatting down naked on top of a very clothed him, Charles wearing a silky blindfold for good measure. His suits make you turned-on beyond all reason. It’s custom, the cut clings to his million-dollar body like satin. The material of his clothing somehow gets drenched in your spit and drool as well — I wonder how that could happen.

To make it worse, you deliciously eat slices of watermelon while sitting on his face. Choking him out by pulling at his black tie, all without a care in the world where the melon juice will drip and dry. Feeding him with another slice is step two, just to see it all flow down his cheeks and chin. Charles can clearly feel his collar being soaked, but there’s only so much he can do. The blindfold is perfect because not only deprives it Charles from knowing what you do, but it also makes for a good reaction face once he sees the result.

Yeah, I know. This poor `innocent´ guy getting a full 69 treatment. Although you have to say, Charles is definitely rising up to a challenge here. Who of these other drivers currently has his face full of pussy, does breath play level expert, gets waterboarded by a sticky summer fruit, and tries not to cum from getting his dick French kissed and drooled across. Sounds fun, but from a sub’s perspective, that’s actually demanding. Multi-task legend.

Part of your fantasy is Charles whining about the ruin of said suit until it is born again after a thorough laundry. The next day, as per your text decree, he has to wear the whole thing on the paddock. No excuses. Distinctly Italian shoes with laces and glossy coating included, even if it’s not the red carpet. Charles rises to the occasion, he keeps his promise. Time to strut some golden pinstripes down the runway, baby. Wearing a slutty turtleneck underneath the tux, which almost explodes at the seams because his neck just won’t fit. Even Mister classic suits king George Russell will have to pick up his jaw from the concrete when Charles will walk, no, float along.

Jesus is the whole thing fitted. Literally so tight around the ass and shoulders. Gotta raise the fashion morale among the younger drivers and inspire more men to be a suits hoe. And the best thing? You like the fact that he’ll only think about last night while wearing it, constantly checking his body as if the evidence was still there. He concurs you have him beat with outrageous ideas, and managed to successfully corrupt him. Just to be sure, though: His racing suit is off-limits. But yep. The media will go wild and Charles’ beauty will break the F1 Internet. Nobody suspects what happened before the detergent.

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This cute lil’ mouse really is one of the most toppable drivers on the grid. Yes, I hear the crowd: Besides Mister Norris (Formula 1’s undisputed HSIC — Head Sub In Charge) and Monsieur Gasly. Gotta be precise and honor Charles’ contemporaries. An absolute dark horse sub is none other than Valtteri, but the world is not ready for that discussion yet. Maybe his booty portrait will pave the way among a 30+ audience. In any case. Charles got a certain hard sub flavor to him. That’s right. His luxury twink face and cotton candy antics deceive. He likes a strong grip on him. His dirty secret really is how far he is willing to go to submit.

He’s not as easy as Pierre on his own soft limits. Pierre is more playful and loves a good niche fetish that nobody heard of. Charles, completely different. What on earth is a soft limit! He doesn’t want to put anything on a `try…maybe…´ list. Too tentative. He either goes for it or not. „I can do it“ is a frequent agreement. Aftercare is mellow, but your man definitely has a streak of wanting to be steadfast and likes your topping more abrasive and immediate than not.

Really letting go is his unspoken sexual dream. It’s something every good driver wishes to achieve in their car, so of course, he wants to know how that applies to him in bed. Charles’ secret desire is to be tenacious when he’s in pain. No half-assed domination on your part. The real fucking deal. Red stripes on skin, everything. Charles is the quintessential masochist, you can smell that from across the Shanghai straight. And that straight is long as hell.

Charles has no intent of taking his frustrations out on you. He puts a lot of his stress into neck training, and his stamina, but he would feel bad using his strength to dominate you to the bone and make you writhe. He just can’t. Sure, Charles knows what he wants (…for the most part), but that doesn’t entail hanging you from the ceiling by one ankle. Vice versa, if you talk to him about trying a bondage suspension, however— You might awaken a curiosity. When it comes down to it, he has no qualms.

After thinking about it a lot, you realized there was a convincing reason for his secret. In his life of racing and competing, being steadfast? That’s often impossible for him. Racing is messy, sudden, direct, and fleeting. In bed, Charles can surrender and endure as much as he like. On the one hand, he can prove that he can take it all. On the other hand, he does not have to worry about getting things under his control. Subbing is his unexpected perfect match, even if he might only be half-aware, or not confident enough to go full BDSM at the beginning of your relationship. He still needs and wants to be taught.

One of his dream scenarios is this. Your kitty cat, classy but nasty he is, wants to be groped while he’s playing the piano. The bench is elongated enough for two people. His thighs and crotch are right there. So, while he’s playing you a little piece, Charles’ expression is kind of like „just do something really inappropriate“. And aggressive, not just feather-light. Your hand between his legs, making him go insane through the fabric of his black pants? That fantasy is his eternal cause for morning wood. Likes being groped while driving, too. Neither case needs a handjob to top it off. Charles just wants to feel aroused and then rub his dick against your thighs if possible. Until you get annoyed with the sensation and tell the naughty garçon how he can touch himself. And he can drive with one hand.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

While you were on holiday in a lodge, he conceded something to you in a bittersweet recount of his earlier years in Monaco. Charles hooked up pretty quickly when he was still sleeping around, getting lost in whirlwind emotions. If he had the time, any excitement-promising approach was considered. And: Put to practice fast enough to match the pace of the racing world, if not on the spot. He couldn’t really say no, his vice. If somebody cute asked him kindly, please sleep with me, Charles: He replied where and how.

Charles almost went too far liking to please, offering his body, and his default answer being „so what do you like me to do“. Rather than „what do we like to do together“. He regrets he didn’t decline more often. For a myriad of reasons, Charles has a difficult time telling you that. Sex was taking over his life and didn’t fit into his natural flow. He was careful with his partners, but it was just as lustful as one would expect. That in and of itself didn’t impact him as strongly as the confusion of feelings. And, the fact that he had an easier time saying yes to someone who wanted a ten-minute romp than actually approaching somebody he had a crush on. Small talk, sure. He’s good at it. Offering a hot lap and driving them around track? Sure. But asking that person on a real date? He was terrible.

He’d only manage to drop hints he was throwing a party at best. Charles ended up surrounded by flirty people before he could even spot his crush in the crowd. On to the next circuit after sunrise: The opportunity gone. No number, no nothing. Charles’ trust into his own feelings for somebody corroded time and again that way. There was no event where he could develop his own infatuation or any reciprocity. The people he liked didn’t think they had a chance, and those who liked him wanted fast relief from their obsession, disappointed at how normal, frustrated, or half-hearted he came across.

The vicious cycle continued with distractions and more attractive people that gave him a blitz hormone rush that almost felt like being in love. Some of them — those who essentially invited themselves into his sheets — were really good in bed, which increased the satisfaction and had an addictive shock value. But after getting them off and then himself, in an almost medical and hyperfocused, stoic way, he still went to the bathroom with a deep existential sigh in his mind which he had no idea how to label. It might have been a feeling of being dragged along into something too messy to get out of.

Meanwhile, people who thought themselves less attractive came back for validation and wanted to pry Charles into daddying and husbanding them back and forth. He almost fell for the incentive and toxicity of that power trip he was offered. Which doubled the people on his lap, his fatigue, the let-down, and mistakes while driving. Wanting to try things out harmlessly became a stream of forgotten names which Charles thought was a mutual pity, all done just for the sake of a tiny glimpse of feel-good body motions. Which he could deliver, he was great, which complicated things even more, and gave him nudges to repeat himself.

That irresistible seduction swallowed up countless hobbies and friendships before he even noticed. The hookups went by faster and faster. Charles was no longer cocky, but numb. Which put his already inundated and clueless brain through a blender and confounded him even more. Knowing he had so much responsibility in this cycle was just as stalling. His notorious Achilles’ heel of not being able to do quick problem-shooting was the last straw. What Charles said to you about this will haunt you forever: “When I make a mistake, when I try to fix it, it just becomes a second one.“

All of this results in Charles’ body count easily exceeding the two figures. He feels paralyzing guilt in retrospect, mixed with positive emotions of remembered pleasure, which is an awkward blend. Charles overthinks how he got passed around so much to distract himself from an empty inner space. He cries about his memories on the couch and doesn’t really seem to stop being preoccupied for weeks after he revealed those things to you. That he apologizes for being `used up´ rubs you the wrong way since he has so much love to give. But you get why Charles got himself into these situations. He had always been stunning, and people thought: Sharin’ the joy.

Good for them, and his drive is arguably high, he wanted relief. Charles did get something out of it. He satisfied many people who deserved some Charles Leclerc in their lives, even if it was just for an hour. But still, you can imagine the chaos and heartbreaks. Many people Charles hooked up with gaze at your boyfriend in a peculiar way when passing by and seeing you. Charles can’t look up, even if you have nothing against these persons and they seem to be cool people.

It’s his body, he did what he wanted to do with it. Charles could try himself out as he should have, and he’s the master of fanservice. Truth be told, who wouldn’t like it when their idol was making out with them. Nothing more understandable than the massive collective excitement for Charles Leclerc. Of course you’re flattered he settled with you, and you can build this from the ground up. He protected well, having a baby is quickly done indeed. Last thing he wants to do is spread STIs or race with a toddler at the back of his mind. Who Mommy has to explain to what dad does for a living. Everything but that.

He’s talked a lot about it to you which you think is courageous. You don’t resent Charles having done things like taking two people with him to his hotel every time there was some palpable sensual chemistry. And there was, and it was good to live in the moment. Some dates weren’t draining or disappointing. Who’s mad people had a good time with Charles: That’s a thousand times more preferable than any opposite of that. And no way to wind back the clock — he knows that best. It happened, and he is honest to you about it, risking the whole relationship by doing so.

Your stance is this. If Charles slept around, that’s what he did. Nothing to complicate there. He’s done his thing. A lot of people had a lot of late-night fun, and there were two or three emergency pills. Which gladly turned out fine. He figured all the other safety stuff out, too. He really learned the essentials, but in person, not in a textbook. Charles thinks he’s a dummy, but you disagree. It shows in his way of showing worry and saying the right words, and he knows not to cause someone he slept with physical concerns. That he’s not a wild-ass sadistic zaddy dominant adds to the overall image. He could not slap someone across their face for a hundred million plus.

All that amounts to a pile of experience. What about it? It’s not like Charles is craving eighty people on him every Sunday night. Come on, King Lewis could outdo your boy on any given evening in one of his local vegan gangbangs where the Sir indulges anyone who shows up with a smoothie, Sebastian merch, or a pride flag. With a big cheeky smile, you know it. Charles was more on the other side of the spectrum wanting fewer people involved. Keeping the overview and staying focused on good sensations and at least a little romanticism, which usually failed. Which is why he also wants a monogamous future for himself. A partner he can worship but also eat greasy takeout with, somewhere in an empty American diner at 3 AM looking like you both just survived all ten Biblical plagues.  

His experience helps him know what feels good to both partners and what to avoid. But he also has some remaining mental baggage from the exhaustion, the stigma, and rapid socializing. He got fucked half-drunk pretty often which was not a good thing, and he hates that the most. That’s why it’s important to Charles that you’re sober, you’re in control, and he’s glad he has you. His health is checked. He’s well aware what a French Letter is and keeps on using it. Although Charles thinks he is undeserving of a stable relationship regardless of his wish for exactly that, you don’t falter. After a `second mistake´ can always come a right choice.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

By far that’s face to face, lying down on your favored sides. Your leg over his hip. A comfy pillow under your heads. The room nice and warm. Need I say more. Charles enjoys the angle and way of accommodating so much. He can penetrate you while kissing and feel your legs and hug. It’s the position you had your very vanilla first time in, so you keep repeating it for nostalgic value. You love being centimeters short of your lashes touching his, nose next to nose, and seeing his eyebrows arch in pleasure: Priceless. That position is called The Rocker, and it does have a nice rocking motion.  

It was — and how else would it be, Charles is a wonderboy — a kind first time. Charles was not a klutz and knew how to arrange his body perfectly. He put a lot of sweat into making this a great starting point. That way of having sex on your sides is actually not so easy from the guy’s perspective, it speaks of Charles’ dexterity even if he is not extremely bendy Yuki-style. You like it because it feels so stable and is close to a regular hug. Charles really did the opposite of walking up to you saying „okay madame, missionary?“. He’s generally open-minded and makes less popular positions feel easy instead of awkward. This particular position is also useful to transition into many others, which is why it’s a bedroom staple.

Charles can make love in any reasonable way, though. You on top of him. Prone, super relaxed. Doggy over the backrest of his sofa. And those are just the classics. He’s not gonna throw you around or put you in a piledriver, and most standing positions are weird to him, but the rest is fair game. There’s no shame he feels in the moment, although he may be shy. Just because he had a lot of partners, doesn’t mean he won’t be bashful. But also don’t forget: Behind those dimples is a lot of resolve. He wants to be flawless. You always look forward to Charles taking the whole thing so damn seriously. You don’t mind him being so accurate. Like anything, it shows his natural will to please and be good rather than not caring at all.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In a puzzling contrast to his rigid perfectionism, Charles `I sing in the shower´ LeBean is a hilarious goofball incarnate. He’s insane, he’s strange, he can’t stay straight-faced at all, ironically. People are far too distracted by his appearance and Monéygasque attitude. He constantly makes little jokes during foreplay — he once acted like he handed you a toothpaste instead of a lube bottle — and won’t stop randomly squirming or making weird-ass moves. Body language again: He’s his own universe. He can create the greatest atmosphere with that dripping chocolate honey marshmallow strawberry ice cream French, too, even if he said the biggest ever nonsense. It’s a miracle language.

His PDA is just as unconventional. Recently, he gave you a hand kiss and curtsy. Basically on the paddock, where you arrived to work, see him, and bully some team principles as a side quest. You simply got bored once Charles was told to warm up indoors. So there’s that, a nice hand kiss. Charles seems to consider you Monte Carlo royalty, but maybe that’s because he’s such a pretty prince himself. Although, he does not behave like some kind of monarch as soon as the occasion calls for him to be a meme, and that includes right in the act. Charles is the type to verbatim say „oops, I actually came! What happened!“ As always, one of a kind. You’ll never stop laughing with this guy.

He’s so sorry about making all these unintended jokes. He just can’t see the puns cumming, can he. As mentioned earlier, Charles prefers a whole bit of orgasm denial anyway. Tell him he can’t climax until you say so, and he’ll gulp, and stick it out with his teeth clenching. You’re gonna make this man explode harder than the night race fireworks, that shit got nothing on him. You’ll have him a sweaty wreck by the time you’re done with him, he’ll talk in at least two languages at once. Charles’ trilingual lifestyle is a warranty for plenty of verbal mix-ups. „You are so `otte…“ — „Haute? Like haute couture?“ — „No, `ot! Like temperature!“ — „Oh, hot!“

h = hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trés chic! Charles is a chameleon: Closely trimmed, then all-natural. To give a more orderly impression, he likes to take care of his cleavage and especially the happy trail to give you a nice view in general. That spot’s gotta be smooth. When you lick across his chest, that’s gotta be sleek, too. He experiments with how to groom his pits and puts a scented conditioner on his leg hair in the shower sometimes.

To rave about the obvious: Charles has that lovely and consistent dark hair. Spectacular, amazing, stupendous. That beard awakens something in you. Don’t get me wrong. There are some pretty cool beards on the grid. But Charles has one that is stylish, versatile, fitting, and unobtrusive. It’s complimentary and gives him yet another touch of elegance. He has quite the beauty regimen in the morning. Knows how to tweeze his eyebrows, but doesn’t overdo it in the outer corners.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Charles is so sensual. If not the number one driver on the grid who understands what `erotic´ really means and looks like, next to Monsier Gasly of course. Erotic, that’s giving no discomfort, but a smile. Your first guess was that he might be a bitchy brat who gave his top a dramatic display — I mean he puts the winky face smoochy heart emoji into his captions — but little did you know he’s very focused on your experience and snuggly. Charles needs that downtime. Babe can’t expend all his energy smiling through the pain all day, or distract himself on his phone, can he. Charles has an expected soft side that comes out even more in complete privacy. On an intimacy scale to 10, he’s an 8.

Sure… Charles has a tiny bit of attitude: „That turns you on, doesn’t it?“ Because he knows exactly what you like, and his way of speaking English can make it sound bolder than it is. It will sound way different in French. But his nature as a pleaser who looks for signals in return rather than someone who thrives on one-sided romance does come out pretty quickly. He’s talked to you about those awkward past scenarios of being in that unrequited position, and how that ended up like. Charles is careful looking up to someone although he wants to do that so much, and it’s a huge part of defining intimacy to him. That’s why romance has to feel light and airy to him. He values fooling around rather than classic date nights sometimes, but is also the type to say „You feel amazing“ a lot during sex since he likes to give revering compliments.

His most candid intimate thoughts will only exist in written form: A diary. Yes, Charles will sit down and journal. If he finds time to write stuff into his Ferrari burn book, he will find time to write something in his journal at home or the hotel. Facts. You don’t pester him to show you. Charles can keep secrets or talk about it however he likes. He’d not touch your phone ever, either. Not once. He is more wary than jealous. He figures his mind out by himself and trusts you. One of the things he’s written down and actually dared to put forward in a conversation is that he has a fantasy of you acting more possessive over him.  Physically, psychologically. In less of a romantic way. Who knew.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’d never eat his own cum directly. The rest? Free reign. Charles treats his dick like. What to even compare it to. Lando vibrating and squealing and jumping around in his gaming chair. Weird analogy, but you get the idea. He’s going ballistic. Traction control off. Among the whole grid, Charles would win a speed contest. Always masturbates like it’s his first time doing it. Usually on all fours, winding left and right when no one watches, throwing himself around. This guy is fucking desperate, you don’t even know. His post-nut regrets are three times worse than the average guy’s. His wrist hurts while steering later, so Charles will masturbate the most at the beginning of the week. Saturday night? Not a chance.

Since he jacks off like a madman to destress, it makes him even more like a human pressure cooker. Ironically, since he thought it would blow off steam big time. You often have to remind him that he better not detach his dick from himself with all that heavy tugging. Charles realizes that a gentler approach will be better at prolonging his pleasure and finding the right moment for release. „The more deliberate you are, the less regret you’ll feel“ — especially if you get kisses all over your face while doing so. Guided masturbation is his perfect match. „Keep it clean. Only this direction.“ He listens to you since Charles knows you make sense. The more he gets into that, the more he likes that form of indirect domination. Just how much can he arch his back? Come in and find out. Allez, Charles.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

The thing is. Your bébé has not really tried full-on submission beforehand. He’s played around with handcuffs, blindfolds… but never dared to go all the way. And neither was he encouraged, even if he’s really interested in those things. That’s probably why he was bouncing from one hook-up to the other, hoping for something spicier to occur, without actually communicating that, which set him up for being disheartened. Vanilla sex is great, but still far away from his full potential.

Those thighs and ass can handle it, Charles is ready for a whipping. He’s ready for the strap, he’s ready for the slaps, he’s ready for the feathers tracing over his body. Bring on the adrenaline. And oh boy, he’s already among the top 20+ drivers in the world doing adrenaline as a full profession. You gotta hit it out of the park. His fascination with BDSM has a reason: Charles thinks he missed out on exploring his submissive side, like there’s a gap in his sexuality. From your side, it goes much further. From your observation, you have a masochistic diamond on your hands. Still raw, but soon to be sculpted in full.

Pegging as a first step, it’s a wild ride in all meanings of the word. You have to be careful to guide him. Charles is easily sensitive. Paradoxically, he doesn’t want gentle prep. Go big or go home. That goes for strap size, too. Using smaller toys to dilate is simply not his thing. He cleans himself up in the bathroom to get ready, but that’s it. This man is gonna talk nonstop. „Like this? What do I do? Is this okay like that? This feels crazy! But in a good way! What do I do with my hips?! Where do I put my leg? What’s this feeling?“

You have to talk your cherry boy through it like an instruction video. Charles’ ass is twitching like hell, which makes you wonder how on earth did this man not get properly dominated by anyone yet. Well, there’s always a first time, and who knew there was still a way to take his virginity. Like wow. And so abruptly, he just wants you to push it in from behind, no fingers first. Good evening to his prostate. This guy’s eyes will be falling out. He’s never been this touchy-feely.

Charles is going to be stunned out of his mind for hours after. You’ll see reactions he never did before. It hurts a lot, like a lot lot, but… he gets excited from that; his heart beats faster than at the start of a race. Charles had no idea that being split in half was that much of a big deal, and you spanking him as a little treat makes it even better. He’s gonna do a little yelp anytime something happens, and seriously. Sure you’ve heard him gaming, but Charles is a different kind of screamer when you pull his hair. The ultimate stress relief.

If that already keeps him on his toes and gives him an existential crisis (which, to be fair, is his primary mode of living these days), wait until you break out the long gloves. Charles will think you’ve gone insane, but it turns him on. He likes being confronted with extremes as is his driver nature. Oh, to get his face slammed down into a pillow and just getting ravaged, and this time not a piece of plastic. And again: He does not like it tender. Charles has the guts to enter an F1 car, you can rearrange these guts without a worry. No „Mommy mommy please take your time“ — he’s not that kinda sub. His name ain’t Lando. It needs to be at the limit until he can’t take it anymore. Lube is your best friend.

In vanilla, he’s a romantic, but for subbing, this guy is not for the faint of heart. You’re doing those things on Monday, not Friday evening. Maybe Charles doesn’t feel the car bouncing because his ass is already numb. That would explain a lot. You’re leaving is in literal shambles. Just how often have you blown his back out? Charles will avoid soft subbing, he enjoys you being brutal, sometimes a bit too much, in fact.

Sure, you can give it to him strongly. Why not have a little hate sex. You saw how much he likes being choked with his own tie. It’s nice if things get red-hot. But the calm and subtle side is missing, which is why you sometimes just rope him in while on his knees for an hour or two. Believe it or not, for some softer couple time. Bondage is the best and most patient way to explore Charles’ body in full and to develop your rigging skills along the way. This is an art, and pretty red ropes (what else) fit a pretty boy well, don’t they.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

First off. You know the drill. His racing car is taboo. Some… other drivers would pull this. But not your very mannered guy. The garage, same thing. Charles behaves. Come on, that damn car. You wouldn’t squeeze in there either, who are we kidding. Keeping it classy, and if there’s nastiness, it is calculated or just in his head. Like Charles’ fantasy to have sex in the car while competing at Le Mans. He’s insane for this, but he will constrain that idea in his head for obvious safety reasons.

That he likes being pinned against a wall though, that can be arranged. Yuki would be proud of your expert kabedon. And not just the light version. Charles wants to get pushed against the surface ruthlessly, have you ripping at his shirt and collar, and he wants to get scolded. Quite submissive of you, Monsieur Leclerc. Some like it wild.

The superior place though? His yacht has a nice interior. The perfect spot. Superb privacy. It’s not just for sex, though. Charles has an open ear for your thoughts while it’s cuddle time or you’re having pasta there. He’s your bestie, you are giggling about a random Youtube video you’ve seen. Once you go on land, still laughing, you will look crazy to outsiders, but you are free. PS: Has long joined the mile high club with you. That’s been one of the first things you did together and oh boy, was it enjoyable. One of the horniest days in your history as a couple. You’ve done it again a dozen times after.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Would never admit simping over you, even if he’ll often say „Je t’aime“ in broad daylight. But he wears his mirror glasses for a reason. Nobody will notice how often he looks in your direction. Charles is in a precarious mindset about you very often. He knows it could all be over by the dawn of tomorrow, whatever the unforeseen event or split may be. Hoping that the odds are in his favor and in yours, but knowing all the ways of misfortune and endings all too well, Charles often tries to tweak his thoughts to be more shallow when looking at you: But in all cases, he fails. He’s a relationship guy, he can’t help it. He’s turned on by by thinking „I am her boyfriend.“

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Mind games. Someone with zero brain cells. And: Classical music. Or mainstream rap. Those stay off the sex playlist. Either would disturb his creative flow. Being, in essence, either too cheesy and epic, or too much in your face with mumbled punchlines. 90s rap, he would say yes. But with modern music, Charles needs a way more sensual way to color the room with background atmosphere… and puts on cringe tracks that you will promptly roast. Who listens to Vampire Weekend while fucking. It’s not like you’re slamming his taste, you’re just um putting on your own playlist and he’s gonna like it. Easy.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Let’s start with receiving. So. He doesn’t have a desperate preference, but he sure enjoys himself to the rare maximum. Like, really letting go. Which is a feeling Charles does not usually experience without any roadblocks. This man is violently cursed from experiencing pure joy. So naturally, you like to spoil him rotten. Charles is terribly weak for that. He’s a lips enthusiast. And he knows his dick is nice, he’s clean, so he got a nice pastime to offer in return.  

What’s in his mind about it? That he has been blessed. When does life ever give this man a break except for a damn blowjob. He feels pathetic and never begs you to do it, but he’s also grateful. Charles is feeling very much alive again. His sexy hands are surely busy on you, too. It’s all big serotonin for Charles. Which is a concept you like. Something simple within ten minutes can paint a relaxed smile on his face. He sleeps like a baby afterward, and probably cooks you breakfast while dancing in the kitchen the morning after.

You do pay attention not to give him pleasure as a `substitute´. It’s not supposed to be a drug. And it can’t obscure the fact that he’s often faced with strife that needs to be overcome directly, by himself. Then again, you do like to comfort him by sucking him off. You can’t help wanting to do it, even if it contradicts your wish for Charles to come home from the circuit with a smile on his lips already. Since a big famous racing team is responsible for either fucking him over and ruining his mood, it’s a little complicated, though.

Whatever you do: Charles considers you an oral sex goddess, and even scorns himself for thinking he falls short vice versa. He works hard to reciprocate. You put dedication into it and really bother with techniques. Hands-free and shallow and deeper and twisting and tongue work and rubbing the sweet spots underneath, everything. It’s the passion that counts the most though, and you have it. Charles can’t like it enough. You can suck his dick until it falls off like a 2020 Mercedes tire. Fuck, does he taste good. Champagne bottles do pop differently when they’re from Monaco.

He likes the more energetic style of fellatio even if he is otherwise quite the sensualist. Some timid licks won’t do here, nor does a languid double-handed twist. He stays true to his endurance motto. And you’re similar to him. You wanna eat him up, you’re eager to see him tremble. Plus, you’re aware he’s a wanted man. You want Charles all for yourself. His moans, his dick, his body, his smiling. Charles asked you to be possessive. This is one of your ways of showing it.

Charles is pretty vocal with his back against any horizontal surface stable enough. He wants both of you to have plenty of cushion support. He typically rests his hands on your shoulders, or loosely palms your hair. What’s interesting to you is that Charles has actually been pretty stingy with blowjobs in his past. This is something special to him. He wants the lips wrapped around his dick to also say loving, encouraging words to him in other situations. Charles wants to deeply like you rather than just wait until you put him in your mouth and he won’t care about the rest. That he’s okay with you giving him head says a lot about what Charles thinks about you.

Saved the best for last: Giving. At first — Charles is actually a bit insecure, but in a way that you can work with. What steps to do? Where to look? How to move? He prefers it when your hands guide his head and put some gentle pressure on it. Teach him all the spots and directions, teach him all your ways. Initially, you wonder why a person who slept with a gazillion people is so not confident with eating you out. But you realize, Charles always needs a little push. He wants to please you the way you want it with an immense exactitude. His mindlessly horny encounters were… less ceremonious, and as you saw, not that heavy on the oral component from both sides.

That stuff was like. Hop on my dick, I give you a hot lap. Let me heat that engine, big finish, chequered flag, let’s kiss, goodnight, it was very good. I’m flying to another continent in two hours, you were amazing. Charles wants a bit more indulgence and deliberation this time, and a more correct technique. Giving head to party girls was like: So here we have Charles Leclerc and his aimless tongue finding random spots, making superficial 8s, and it’s all under time pressure! Going down on a complete stranger and figuring it all out in a minute, and the same applies to a blowjob, that’s just weird as hell. Charles’ opinion is, you have to know what they like in detail.

He regrets not having put more effort and education into it back then. Although, and that’s obvious to you but not him, his former slut life was clearly facilitated by his already far above-average sex talent. But yes: Now he can make up for lost knowledge. Which are more like, mere finishing touches. He’s quite proactive to catch up. And as you know, Sharl is a bit of a social butterfly. After getting advice from the number one sex coach in town, things are wildly different. You’ll hear sentences like „just cum on my face sweetie ♡“ and immediately know it’s the voice of Sir Lewis Hamilton speaking through him. You’re not surprised that Charles asked Lewis out of all people to level up. After all: No surprise, eating pussy is completely vegan. Instead of meat, I eat veggies and y/n — Eurovision fans will get it.

But you also raise a little brow at Charles’ loose lips. He really did kiss and tell there, huh. You’ll make him sign an NDA if he continues to consult people who so happen to frequently chat with Sebastian #TheGossipMan Vettel. Who will then spill the tea at a press conference for the world to hear. Instead of Charles just researching on the plain ole Internet and calling it a day. Your boyfriend apologizes profusely and realizes just how fast this intel could spread. Regardless, you compliment him on his choice of expert and are sure that Lewis will not pass on the information lest he wants his avocado toast stolen.

Instead of learning complicated tongue swirls, Charles has an easier time when you just sit on that Orlando Bloom of Formula 1 face and just ride on. Like properly. On your knees, facing his feet. Charles’ feet are fucking top tier. Did I mention his feet are great? Elegant, beautiful, aesthetic. Like the man himself. And no worries. He preps his beard so you won’t get hurt. Charles is now confronted with your ass doing all the work, but his horse neck can handle it, zero doubts there. In other words: At the beginning, he’s better at being passive than active. Gotta make that mattress squeak. You can drive it home on that glorious face. That will enter his mind permanently, just like what you did to his sexy suit.

But then again, he won’t give up on improving himself. At dinner, Charles has recently confessed to having a lot of sexual fantasies where he sees himself in 3rd person, pleasing you with his tongue like a pro. He thinks it’s a shame his lips aren’t very big and plump, but he does his best, zealously, to stimulate the right spots. Sometimes, you need to urge him to concentrate, he’s really trying and trying everything at once. Charles enjoys the effort to lick you up well. If he loves someone, he likes to figure them out.

„I wish I was a natural“ is his constant motto. He really makes no excuse. No wonder, because you’re so delectable. Your labia are so tasty to suck on, and the dripping wetness in the middle is his undisputed favorite thing. No wonder you are Miss Éclair. People with a bump on their nose simply are the best pussy eaters. Sorry, I make the rules. Charles will ruin his face in the best way possible by swiping his nose base to tip, upwards, making you gasp out loud. Somebody is getting the hang of it. Just imagine feeling his lashes on the insides of your thighs. Lucky you, lucky you. And him doing the thumb-tongue combo. He really goes for the podium in your heart, does he. Instant win.

If you are the goddess of oral, Charles feels very inspired to be the matching god. Standards, baby. You hold him back from pushing himself, but it’s clear he is a gifted student at almost everything, as is typical of him. In other words: Learning curve. Charles has you heated up like the comment section of George’s topless pics when he talks that extra sultry, heavy fucking French. „Mon rêve, how do you feel?“ Goodbye, man. Good fucking bye. Charles will cater to your voice kink until you’ve cum twice in a row. He is really starting to play to his strength these days, keep that guy.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

To be enjoyed with care. Charles’ brain is imploding when the speed picks up, and he’s turning into a messy hoe. Mind that he’s extremely strong by virtue of his job — Charles doesn’t want to hurt you or himself by acting out. He’ll have to hold his body back to match you, but he’s okay with it. Subbing clearly helps with that, too. He’s not at the risk of doing something disproportionate when he’s tied down. Charles can control his physique really well, but he still wants to be safe, fearing his arms could crush or sweep you in a wrong direction by accident. As always, he is paranoid of mistakes. That’s why Charles is comfortable being on the receiving and passive end especially, and will rather use his muscles for simply looking good laying there (hell yeah), and enduring rather than going on to dole something out.

At a certain point, he loses his usual athletic coordination and just closes his eyes. He will peak in no time and cry out loud. A mid-range speed is always the best way to go. Anything that will match a sped-up breathing pattern. Charles thought going steady is not his thing, because he’s a racing driver. But he does feel proven wrong with time and embraces it. Which adds to his sensual style, and that’s fucking hot.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

How does one even find time and inspiration for that. In the high-paced circus shitshow that is Formula 1? Well, easy: Charles has driven the 2020 car. He knows what it’s like to slow down and create his own lane. A little sex on the side, absolutely his thing. Charles is a quickie enthusiast of the highest order. He doesn’t call it quickies, though. He always refers to it as `little fun´.

But it’s more than fun. He could make out with you all day, even if he turns delirious. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, night. For example, he fantasizes about standing behind you at the kitchen counter in the afternoon. With his shorts a little pulled down. You eat together while you’re feeling him from behind. And the whole thing becomes more and more passionate, and, and— The oven goes up in flames.

Charles’ fantasies are always interrupted by an element of demise, added to the fact that he is already terrifyingly booked on weekends and in the factory. Which is why he has a mentality of improvising quickies rather than modeling them after what goes on in his head. His eagerness tends to backfire there. On some days, Charles might not even manage to get out of his own trousers by virtue of his dick situation, fumbling around aimlessly while kissing. Uncoordinated Charles and the helping hand of his domme — a match made in heaven. Admit it: You baby Charles too much and you enjoy it. But really: He needs that bit of extra TLC. And he’s on all fours to repay you, he’s fair.

So. It’s you who’s guiding his hands. Charles hesitating or not knowing how to move sometimes doesn’t mean he wants to safeword. His insecurities don’t root in you. You’re out of that equation. He definitely wants to sleep with his mon amour, out of question. He just needs some minutes to catch up and switch into off-the-paddock mode. It all works best when you indulge his inner romantic rather than fucking like rabid beasts. Being tender and focusing on the waves of pleasure will grant you a much better 15 minutes of little fun in the kitchen — without the oven on. Charles is already hot enough, aye.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s the kind of sub that sees something on the Internet says „Oh my god! Who would do that!“ and proceeds to ask for doing it five minutes later. Jesus fucking Christ, Charles. „But I guess we can try it out!“ is his battle cry. Needless to say: He needs a wise and circumspect partner who at the same time is very open-minded and resolute. It’s a lot to ask, but his best partner is an all-rounder domme. A lady who knows how to lead, but also strokes his cheeks and gives due praise. That way, it works out considering Charles often changes his mind and wants to go more extreme, more immersed. Roleplay, and the like.

There’s a negative side that you noticed, though. Charles infuses a lot of it with personal topics that he normally pushes to the side. He really wants to act and feel like you hate him sometimes, giving him severe punishments, stepping on him a lot more brutally, hitting him in the face hard with no regard to the consequence, and talking to him from behind a callous emotional barrier. In short, really mistreating him.

You’re not 100% okay with that and actually tell him off. You feel like Charles will end up misusing this dynamic without even noticing. To castigate his conscience, to grant himself a proxy to express the buried feeling of being really beaten down. Since his self-hate has terrible effects, he believes someone else hating him could free him of it: But it has to be someone who actually likes him, so that the situation is not real. Roleplaying seems to look like Charles’ coping. You understand the point of relief through a fantasy, but you still don’t agree that his reasoning is healthy or in any way effective for his career.

Even if they appear like immovable mountains, you animate him to rather face those problems outside of bed. He clearly has the zeal, that’s absolutely obvious to you. Charles can’t fix what happened, but he can think about the present day. Getting a sexual punishment won’t really let him move on. Guess why he likes bondage so much: It mirrors his feelings of constriction (alongside the burden of being il predestinato) and gives him the relief of being unbound after a session. Real-life doesn’t unbind him, which is why he keeps wanting to do it in kink, symbolically, and he asks you to do it again and again.

Even if you really enjoy tying him up and roleplaying — these types of Dom/sub play consume enormous time already, and with Charles, it feels like an emergency remedy. You can see where this is going: BDSM ain’t therapy. Especially since he’s a sub who tends to be on the receiving end of some pretty intense practices, you explain to Charles that it’s better to pursue sexuality for physical and spontaneous mental pleasure. Rather than, say to compensate for a larger life crisis that weighs too heavy on him to confront outside of sex. Or so he believes. Easier said than done, but you want to point it out to be sure.

It’s a bitter truth to swallow. And a criticism often unheard of. But it’s part of safe-sane-consensual that a partner will slam the breaks on any deeper issues that creep up. Dominating him should be no all-purpose sugar pill. It should be leisure that so happens to bring some extra dopamine. And if somebody agrees that being light-hearted is a hundred times more beneficial than compensating into a bottomless pit, it’s Charles. Hands down. This guy knows what you’re really talking about. There’s a reason why he thinks back positively to his karting days since that environment was more cheerful, not as serious and quickly punishing as being among the best drivers in the whole world.

He’s gladly aware and won’t deny it, which makes the situation easier. Charles has well observed that he’s not the most unbothered person out there. Somebody who refuses to be conscious of that is simply nerve-wracking to deal with. That mentality can shatter relationships. You are relieved that Charles listens. He asks to think about the concern for a while because he sees the point.

Charles misses a lot of people who took care of him. So, he’s swinging to one extreme of accepting his abandonment by asking his partner to act highly dismissive and degradingly towards him. Or, the other end of the pendulum: Of wanting to be doted on nonstop, reassured he won’t be left alone. You thought about it, and it told you something extremely important. That Charles is largely clueless about balancing his need for an authority figure. He either wants full distance or too much love, all to mitigate his perpetual inner turmoil. It really is what it boils down to. And it must be extremely painful. You understand why he wants a quick fix and can’t find the golden mean.

That’s also the reason why he could and would not attach in his hook-up days. Because these people just wanted good dick from a smoking hot guy (understandable), and then they took off. Abandonment. People showed up for his body, an orgasm, and the brief experience of the famous Charles Leclerc, the celebrity him. And now he’s with you, permanently, and it’s suddenly an elaborate power dynamic where he is the actual submitting party. Being taught discipline, and having somebody stand above him. Do you finally see why Charles is so interested in you now?  

It takes a week until he sorts himself out, and you don’t really have sex until then. The breakfast table glances are extremely loaded with thoughts. Charles feels guilty for things digging so deep where you should be having a blast and enjoying life, especially with the amount of money and travel opportunities at his disposal. Coming to terms with his burdens on your sex life and this risk for your connection is already half the path to go, though. He values that you confronted him and want to know what really drives his actions. To Charles, that’s a testament to caring and sincerity.

He returns to sleeping with you after clearly stating that he’ll try his best to focus on being more moderate. Although he also says he’s afraid he can’t eradicate his submissive side, and moreover, and most importantly, he really needs you. You’re taken aback since that’s not really been a question to you. In your eyes, he can take your respect for these things for granted. Charles needing you is okay, and his interest in freaky stuff is okay when it’s done for the right reasons. Wanting to look up to someone is not a bad thing. Nor are you going anywhere anytime soon.

You’re here to chill out on red flamingo floaties in the pool and goof off, and bond in the sheets with your petit beau. And Lord knows who doesn’t love a subby Charles. You just don’t want him to fall into a further downward spiral of loathing, anger, compulsion, or rapid mood swings because of his grief. You’re literally right there for him. Which unburdens him a lot when he hears that from you, although he realizes that it’s a given when he looks at how you behave. And you depend on Charles a lot, too. You want him, badly, you can no longer deny it to yourself.

Charles goes on to promise that he won’t expect you to heal his losses, or give him an excuse to open up solely through kink stuff. As, he puts it like this, some kind of cover-up. While at the same time neglecting your needs and not centering his attention around you. „It was too selfish of me even if I had my reasons. I was drawing too much energy from you. That can’t be justified.“

Knowing that he’s not the only one who likes sweet stuff, Charles frequents a top-class confectioner to get an expensive, personalized chocolate basket as an apology. There are all kinds of treats in there, in fantastical flavors. He buys it not for showing off, but to show you the meaning of wanting you to be satisfied, and reassured. He doesn’t want to use you as therapy, forget your side of the coin, or please himself only, just to alleviate what spins around in his mind as an issue that should not slowly undermine your love life.

His grief is important. But it should not disturb the affection you’re sharing, even make you despise or control each other, or cause wreckage. What he does want is for you to stick around and be his anchor, or someone he can learn from to some extent. That’s what he really desires. Well, at the end of the day, you did teach him something there already, further proving his point. So, you don’t really have to do anything to assure Charles. You’re doing it naturally.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His abilities: Jawdropping. Charles is very invested in being able to go a lil’ longer than a meek two minutes. Charles is excited, but deliberating. He knows about the common irony that when he doesn’t focus on stamina, and just directs his pleasing to you, stamina is no longer a thing. Seeing a random homo sapiens naked does not send him into a wild frenzy. Charles has seen it all. He feels like that’s a plus, but also an obstacle.

You did notice that he is a bit desensitized, physically. His job is defined by pushing himself beyond all limits. He knows how to show his appreciation for you, but he’s also scarred by his former sex life which was endlessly repetitive. Being stuck in that rut kind of fried his brain, as do the constant fuckups in Ferrari’s racing strategy. Double whammy. There’s a reason why Charles wanted a permanent partner who had a different approach. What Charles dreams of is spicing it up with things he’s not done yet, conversations he’s not had yet, with somebody who’s the clever to match his stupid. Sapiosexual detected. „Ah, it’s like this? You’re a genius!“ — classic Charles phrase directed at you.

What’s not surprising and an advantage: He doesn’t really bother with picture-perfect appearances anymore. Someone being beautiful, extra-groomed and well-formed is amazing to him, but the result of having sex is always the same. Everybody wants a positive feeling out of it. The most otherworldly and rich sex partners he’s had were some of the most stress-laden personalities. Who had, pray tell, uncanny baggage in life and really suffered with no seeming way out. Copy-paste to Charles. Not so wholesome, and a natural relationship slash libido killer.

He’s aware of how jet set attractiveness is hard to create and maintain to begin with. Attractive people with by a thousand bees buzzing around them are just like him. Birds of a feather, a great spark at the beginning, common ground of popularity, but also twice the exact same issues combined. He already considers himself hard to date due to his fame, schedule, and a mountain of horrible things swirling around in his brain. A person who might look extraordinary but has as much pressure as he has? They’d barely hang out or find some opportunity for creating happiness. Dwelling on a deserving mentality, waiting for outside luck, doing chronic complaining, and overwork. Charles knows the drill. Even more detriments to stamina.

Double the extreme beauty in a couple might be common in his circles — doesn’t mean it’s beneficial. The paparazzi would tear the relationship apart, and Charles can’t just do his thing in peace from all the hype and envy. His partner’s looks will wind up irrelevant down the line. Only someone witty gets this guy off his phone, someone outrageous, a bon vivant who provokes him. Not a fellow celebrity who’s just clocking in for two minutes facetime, too busy making themselves presentable, smiling, posing, strutting around, pretending the world is happy and they are sexy, all that rotten phony Instagram delusion.

Chances are they have zero muse for talking passionately about racing or his mental health, and if they do listen for a second, it’s meant to gain approval points. Actually taking Charles’ circumstances to heart is more than just an `understanding´ hum on the phone. Imagine someone having that audacity and then going on to promote their own stuff online. In your words to him: Shrugging off your partner is a fucking insult. You have to get your hands dirty — in private — to really really show what you’re there for. Them. Not just yourself.

Charles doesn’t want to wait three hours until he can cuddle you. Every hair and lash in place, still insecure how you come across? Please no. His lifestyle does not allow for waiting. Everything has to be on the spot, and he wants a partner who has kick-ass swag five thousand. Not someone who caves as soon as Charles is struggling. They have to be strong! An iron will under the surface. He’s not Lewis finding time to fly to every fashion show within a radius of 24.901 miles aka the whole earth, nor a poker-faced Scandinavian driver with indestructible patience. Not to mention that he doesn’t want to peel you out of ten layers of whatever fabrics. Corsetry, tons of jewelry, complicated itchy hairstyles going all over the place and whatnot. Makeup caking in the heat of Bahrain, or sky-high shoes he can’t take you anywhere with for a getaway. Turn-off. Pragmatism is sexy.

PJ and athleisure: Just right. So comfy. And don’t say you’d rather go through all that dolling up forever rather than being in his arms right away. If you’re horny for Charles, you won’t postpone it. Everything else messes with your natural instinct. He gives zero fucks. Only being fresh out of the shower is a good idea, obviously. The same goes for the often sweat-drenched, stressed-out him. No double standards. Charles is a bubble bath hoe anyway, he smells like a rose garden. But yes — the guy’s not as superficial as his origin suggests. Which results in an interesting dynamic.

The psychological `glue´ between people is more impressive to Charles. He’s turned on by a person’s way of acting. He’s well-versed with body stuff. He’s in a contact sport, to understate it. On the other hand, if we’re talking D/s. Since he’s new to submitting, Charles is easily overstimulated. You can tell that he had lots of conventional sex that didn’t really target much of the body as a whole. BDSM, in a lot of disciplines, is a little more distinct and takes into account every nook and cranny. Which Charles is very enticed by. Imagine the effect of a single nipple clamp on this strong-ass Italian stallion.

Body endurance-wise, and that goes for the entire grid: High, of course. This guy’s job is doing a 2-hour Grand Prix almost every other week. Driving front of the grid, at immense speeds, with crazy focus. Steering and talking and drinking and pushing buttons and memorizing the track and racing the Top 10 and adhering (unfortunately) to strategy and… the list just goes on and on. Imagine the chemicals on fire inside this body. What an athlete.

So: Charles has the resilience. Sex is pretty easy on his circulation, it’s not a crazy cardio workout for him. He trains much harder stuff. Don’t mistake his lack of breaking a sweat fast for a lack of feeling, though. You’ll be able to sense it in his touch. I don’t have to tell you he’s courteous and affectionate and the cutest, you already know it. But also remember that Charles is careful to attach himself 100%, and not because he’s a player. This guy can’t even wink properly.

You know the reason why he’s hesitant to confide in somebody. And that his profession is an enormous hazard. He often has no clue whether to go the extra mile feeling-wise or not. If he does, that makes it so much harder to watch the race for you. If you can bring yourself to do that at all, after an especially spectacular night with him. It’s the price to pay. Keeping it lighthearted versus YOLO-ing the whole thing is the bane of your relationship. Charles wants to be emotionally available, but also no let-down or a tragic figure. You tell him, „Charles. That already shows you care so much.“ He’s loving regardless, no matter what he decides. He’s already invested, so why not go all the way and make it a relationship that lives life to the fullest?

Charles, knowing that entire emotional backdrop, gives the whole dynamic a touch of good friendship rather than aiming for Romeo and Juliet. And he doesn’t have to. Charles suffers from the invisible break on his romantic nature that wants to prepare you a candlelight dinner instead of doing an extra track walk. It’s the Sebastian Vettel effect: Either full power on the circuit, or full throttle at home: Choose one. The amount of times he asked another trusted driver about improving his thinking with those things, being vague enough about you but still desperately trying to find a solution, you would not believe it. Pierre has tried everything so Charles would not feel so conflicted.

Your boyfriend talks a lot to you about being in the mood for love and wishing he could pour rose petals to your feet every weekend when you woke up rather than being on the grid. But — if that’s not romantic in and of itself. Charles didn’t realize how words could be enough to tell you what he means. A thought can be priceless, much better than making something reality sometimes. Doesn’t mean a big candlelight dinners won’t take place when the season’s over. You are patient for Charles. That is also important stamina in relationships.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Aside from straps? The absolute minimalist. Not the type to ask being collared and put on a leash like a puppy: That’s Lando and Lewis territory. Charles is pretty reserved, he would not mass buy toys or experiment much. Anything that vibrates? Freaks him out. Your theory is that his phobia has to do with being a driver for Ferrari in particular. When something goes brrrrrrhh he automatically thinks he needs to box box immediately to get his car reconstructed from the ground up mid-race.

And whether that’s toys used on him or yourself, he’d also get a heart attack when the battery starts dying on him and the toy makes irregular noises. You know which ones I mean. As if it’s staggering. His driver mind goes like `Oh my god. The engine! What’s happening?!´ while you are already busy switching batteries like it’s no big deal. Anything that’s too high on the tech component and needs a whole-ass instruction manual makes Charles question his life choices. How would Charles spend his time stretching condoms over a Hitachi. That’s your thing, not the unsuspecting kitty’s. This man is far too traumatized by vibrating noises. So, please spare Charles of the toy mania unless you buy him a nipple pump for fun and plenty of laughter. Nipple stuff is fine. But nothing too fancy.

His blissful ignorance is amazing. He has no idea how a vibrating constriction ring works and what that even is. Charles can tell you what a Hockenheim Ring is, a Hungaro Ring, a Nürburg Ring, and a Red Bull Ring, but some super specific toys? He’s too confused and doesn’t want to find out. This dude has enough electronics to deal with on the regular. Like. Charles thinks anal beads are a home decoration. Okay, he’s not that naïve. But you get the point. In his mind, brrrrrrhh equals red alert.

Obviously, he doesn’t mind if you have your own little collection to masturbate by yourself, it’s just not his cup of tea to use as a couple. He also doesn’t like watching you in a weird way. He’s more likely to offer helping you himself, or he listens to some music in another room, or he’s gaming. He’s not gonna disturb you doing what you like doing. He might enjoy seeing you please yourself with your fingers, just laying there half relaxed half on edge, but even then, he can’t stop stroking your thighs. It’s either no contact or full contact.

In the same vein: Those sexy black harnesses you bought for him to try on make his dorito body tingle in the oddest ways. Tip: Mail them to the Mercedes and McLaren garage instead. It will be highly appreciated. Sir Lewis, Prince George, and Mister Ricciardo will slay the house down on their social media with those. Lando will use them um, privately. Charles, and this is very chic and extra of him, prefers a nice homemade rope harness that’s specifically crafted by you. It’s just more intimate and beautiful because it’s temporary.

You tie it in front of two mirrors so he can see what you do in the back and front, and you always see his face, too. He prefers the more complicated stuff rather than just beginner’s bondage. Shibari is right up his alley. So, if ropes count as toys rather than accessories or tools, then this is it, this is the one. And I mean. This is no surprise. At all. It’s the nature of the sport. Every Formula 1 driver has the strongest safety belts and trains their body with harnesses on strings, you know the ones. That crazy painful G-Force neck and shoulder workout. If that’s not high-end BDSM, I don’t know. The creepy torture machines F1 drivers have in their gyms? Gives any dominatrix a run for her money. And tell me what kind of utensil Charles uses to warm up? A jump rope. Bingo. He has such a thing for that stuff.

Ropes aside. If we’re talking classic masturbation helpers: Charles’ skeptical gaze says miss me with that Jurassic Park stuff. Because that’s what toys look like to him. Would never use even the most basic toy on himself if his life depended on it. He might be curious, but Charles thinks it’s really embarrassing and gross to clean it all up. He doesn’t have time for that. The same goes for using anything on you, he just thinks his hands and thighs do a better job than „creepy dinosaur toes and purple plastic snails“ as he puts it. What on earth does he mean by purple snails, what has he seen? He refuses to elaborate. It’s probably better that way.

Besides, and he is honest here. This sinnamon roll had so much Quali traffic in his early years before he got to the main GP in this relationship — and he notoriously masturbates like a jackhammer, careful Charles don’t hurt yourself — he needed no fleshlight ever. That all amounts to Sharlie being on the fence with toys. Except, and we summarize: For nip stuff and bondage supplies. See the positives: No extra cupboard needed. And: That Charles is not a big tech enthusiast speaks volumes of his confidence to make you climax.

By the way: He thought lube is a lame alibi, while spit or being extremely horny are the answers. Fair enough, you can spit on his dick or in his mouth any day of the week. Essential skill. And you have no problems getting the hots for Charles. We’re talking wetter than Monaco 2022, and it has really been pouring down there. Meanwhile, your approach is the exact opposite. Tops see the whole thing from a different perspective. You would literally bathe in lube with Charles, swim in it, and: Roll out the big bottle on him when his ass is about to get destroyed. He will thank you on his knees and realize the value of a good lubricant. Charles is soon returning from the groceries with new stock.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s always the one who catches your eye by looking so good and tasty. Charles being so pretty and delicious really is a way of teasing. That logic cannot be argued with. But yes. You womanhandle the living shit out of him. Charles walking around with blue balls is the best thing ever. This shit will have him melting down because he tries to control himself so much. Which spurs him into even fiercer masturbation minutes later. You have some very sexy solo videos of him on your phone, with good lighting and sound quality.

Fairness as a whole? You do something good and caring for him, it goes on his mental list to make sure you feel reciprocated on the right occasion. Although he knows some people wouldn’t like that style of relationship, he sees a need for a certain back and forth. If you come home and give him the biggest hug ever, he will come home and give you the best back massage ever on the exact day where you feel tense. It’s not always reciprocating with the same thing, but with what’s appropriate.

I know: He’s the most blatant Libra ever. This man is ruled by Venus, baby. Mutual uplifting, he reveres his lady. Charles always nails the presents for you. As if his face was not the gift already, but that’s beside the point. He also creates proper quality time as often as he can, jet ski dates beloved. And there’s so much more, he never runs out of ideas. Charles’ thought process: „So many things to do with her!“

Amusement park rides at night, food buffets, motorboat cruises for two. Bowling. Pool billiards. Going to a swimming pool with artificial waves (so much fun). Baking you pizza with exquisite ingredients he bought with great care. Going to a top-class barber together. And the like. All presented to you with a wink. Not boring stuff like golfing — ugh — and blah, although he does flex his legs and silhouette there so props to that. If we’re talking fairness, he’s always more than that. Cash can’t buy love, but it can embellish it by making memories when it’s already there. Charles is using his money wisely.

This man rolls out the red carpet under your feet or throws himself into the puddle you walk across — and he is the celebrity. Let that sink in. Charles is fucking humble. Rather than thinking of himself as a walking piggy bank, a reason he won’t disclose is that he’s aware how his good pay when there’s a good reserve and you have that privileged opportunity, needs to be used for the present moment to do what it’s supposed to do. He has an actual reason to consider that there might be nobody who could eat a big pasta plate with you anymore by tomorrow. Carpe diem, baby.  

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Medium volume. At first. Guy doesn’t even know he can and will go much louder when it comes to… some type of pain play. Before he has to show up in the adjacent hotel rooms to go „Um excusez-moi“, it’s all constricted to your personal estates. So, he screams his lungs out at home for the most part („Oh, my ass—!“), and just breathes really hard everywhere else. Charles is any dom’s wet dream when he gets loud and responsive, and really creative with his expression. Makes you wanna say, good job, baby. He’s such a talker, too. Even mouth gags cannot stop him. And, as before. He is pleasant in every facet, so Charles’ sexy time noises are no different. Especially when he receives praise.  Oh my goodness me. The praise kink is real. He will cum in five seconds if the compliment hits right.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the person)

Your first time meeting? How else could it be, just days before a Grand Prix. And which GP? You guessed it. Miami. You got a free paddock pass for being an influencer and bumped into Charles at the fake marina just minutes before Free Practice: In your super skimpy bikini. And then you just made out with him after the race. Party in the city when the heat is on— No I’m just kidding. Of course you met in Monaco.

Alerted by some very strange noise outside, you scooped up this wet poodle of misery with your bare hands. From a random edgy premise at 4 AM, an empty low-rise socialite building you sort of lived next to. He crashed at this place after an unhinged party and really didn’t know why. A hungry as hell Charles floated in the water with swollen eyes, making the pool close to overflow with his tears. He was actually about to open an XXL flask of absinthe he got from a house bar to top it off. Yeah, fuck.

You were like, what’s going on there! You went down, squatted at the pool and said, put this bottle of poison away and come out, you need something to eat, man. Just because you can cleanse a wound with that liquid doesn’t mean it works on your soul. Thank God this house is vacant because I think you’re trespassing. And Charles went „oh mon Dieu I’m such a loser I’m the worst“ and you were like „no you’re just naked in cold water, let’s go upstairs“. And Charles was like „okay“ and reluctantly put the alcohol aside, even he didn’t have an idea where and who he was anymore at that point. Hell, he was already extremely drunk. You gave him your jacket to cover up down below, then helped him climb nothing short of 80 stairs with wet feet.

An XXL American-style deep-frozen pizza with extra pineapple later (to shock his Italian brain back to reality), Charles was rambling and rambling. With a mere towel around his hips, saying „guess I just give up and see what happens“. Eventually collapsing on the table face down, Charles ended up dragged into your bed. 69 kilogram and his legs were still on autopilot, so that was doable. Your couch was nice and comfy so you moved there after checking if you had anything toxic that Charles could drink in your flat while sleepwalking or waking up earlier than you. Just to be sure.

Months later, Charles said he thanks you for „not taking advantage“ of him then and there. It would have been easy to just take off the towel, or just do whatever thing with him. You say man, what the fuck Charles. You were a sobbing mess. This guy has really been surrounded by psychopaths, leeches, betrayers, and manipulators everywhere. Hell, Charles almost forgot his own name from all that crying. He needed a damn shelter, bed, and something warm to drink.

Back there, you felt like Edna Mode from the Incredibles giving her big speech on how to stand up and fight. You wound up driving Charles to the track the next day after getting hangover sushi for lunch. He asked for your number, and you said Charles, I work right here in the paddock. You’ll see me walk around, now eat this chocolate bar and put your chest out walking with pride. He said what, are you a good Samaritan, and you said no I just move some Formula 2 Pirellis around. Now get to work, there’s a title to win! Veni, vidi, vici! And off he goes.

So you just kept on rolling stuff around as always and saw Charles’ helmet turning whenever he passed you. You did wave at each other. Later in the afternoon, you saw the Ferrari team, soulless faces all around, in shambles during a routine stop. You came along and grumbled, why is everything so uncoordinated and untidy here. Step aside horse hoes, I will rearrange your tires, this is a safety hazard. The team said who the hell are you and Charles said wait she’s my friend. Okay so that’s how you’re rolling and rearranging things around for Ferrari, including Charles’ baby step confidence, but it’s not like he didn’t need it. Your logic is simple:

His iconic booty is already racing around at 300 kilometers per hour. In an oddly-shaped circle. He can steppy step on some pedestals and steery steer this little expensive computer wheel. He has sexy balaclava lines, great feet, and nice eyebrows. How could someone not win a championship like that. He just needs a team that can roll the tires correctly at the right point in time, that’s all. Bewildered, the Scuderia tells you mamma mia there is so much more to it, like what about this and that DRS issue and other teams and— but you insist, no folks. Stick to the basics first.

Busted suspension? Who the hell cares, duct tape is a thing, takes a good mechanic three seconds. Charles is just as fast regardless! He doesn’t even need the car, the car needs him. Corroded engine? Duct tape again. Rival teams are acting shady? Nobody cares! Just check if you have enough duct tape with you! Gotta focus on one damn goal! Just let Charles be good-looking and press some buttons and everything will be alright. Blend out the others, he should just be careful not to hurt himself or someone else. Just drive round and round and get tires when you think you need `em. That’s it. The motto has stuck with him since, actually.

Charles qualified third and won on Sunday. Big party, spell break celebrations, everything. He was crying right in front of you again. You agreed to meet for pizza without pineapple the next day. At your’s, because it’s cozier. This time, Charles — without a hangover — brought the pizza along and it was perfectly soppy in the middle, with crisp edges like his jawline, oh duh. Guess who was the happiest man on earth and got a little kiss on the nose goodbye.

Charles stumbled into the new race week a little love drunk which some mechanics noticed, but they were also too busy rolling around the tires the way you told them to. Since Charles suggested you travel to the next GP instead of working in F2, you packed your stuff and did as you always did next Sunday in Baku. Charles followed the exact guidelines and just sat there looking good, steering his Sharliemobile in a circle, the whole shebang, and earned P2. The curse truly was dissolved by the power of pineapple on pizza. It was like a reset for his neurons.

Charles had a new philosophy. Rule #1, if he made a mistake, he just shrugged and pressed another button. On it went, there was always another chance to slay. Rule #2, if somebody wronged him, he was unfazed, too fast to linger. After all, racing was nothing more than a hobby, and he knew what he was doing. The more Scandinavian the approach, the better. Charles didn’t need rehab or new team staff. He needed some Hygge in his life. On track, and with a partner. Ease in his body, ease in his mind.

Five weeks later, Charles asked if you could be his girlfriend because he had one big fat crush on you.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Look at my horse, my horse is amazing. So we’re talking car equipment of the number one Monégasque Megawhore (trademarked). Now this Ferrari doesn’t have an engine failure nor faulty smokin’ breaks, believe me. And I mean. Look at this lil’ freak. His way of walking is the weirdest way of human movement. Charles’ shorts are always sitting suspiciously low. He constantly tweaks and pinches at his racing suit, it’s so painfully tight. Somebody save him.

He’s literally wearing swim trunks that say ICONIC on them, in bright neon so everyone will know and the competition can sashay away. Charles also has to spread his legs sluttishly wide when he sits down not to get super uncomfy. Come on man, pick up some loose trousers and close your legs instead of wearing fabric that holds everything in place and— Oh. Hum, what could that mean. Not one clue. But science tells. How on earth could he have had a rendezvous with every possible single his age if Charles had no one-size-fits-all dick. Seriously. It really has a bit of everything. An enviable universal appeal.

Very slight upward curve, but it’s well-aligned. No slant to the side. Mister Charles Leclerc junior stays off the track limits, baby. A proper tip, but it’s not disturbingly formed. Some sleek thickness to it, but he’s not too heavy nor just — awkwardly flops around. Yikes. Nothing like that here. He’s not really huge, and he’s not really small. Because he’s Charles, he has lied about his inches total, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that he’s nice and meaty the way he is. You’re particular about this, but you like your hand wrapped around him. Charles holds his breath when you do that. He’s just on edge, don’t make fun of him.

He’s not too flexible either, but also not one thrust away from his dick breaking in half. Doesn’t look cut, but he’s also not uncut. Not veiny, but it’s also flushed and light. Yes, I know — It’s still hard to picture it. So let’s just say it looks very good like everything on his man. No big news. You’ll make it clear to him, nothing to be insecure about. After all these phone numbers he got, Charles is still not happy and finds flaws? Damn. To raise his esteem, what do you do? Well, not what has failed to lift his esteem in the past: More sex. Instead, you’re doodling cute NSFW caricatures into his burn book to make him laugh. Laughing is the best medicine. Who knew silly drawings could make him feel better about himself, but it works.

And last but not least. Pubic hair. Of course, as dark as his legendary eyebrows. It’s the Italiano in him, va bene. Even a close shave will not get rid of the shadow underneath the skin. It’s not too messy, not too stubbly. All in all, class act.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Charles is on fire. Boy started wilding topless since the year began. If the season is shit, he can at least be down bad. By the sheer power of languages, Charles has French, Spanish, and Italian style libido combined. He could not keep this up without an equally horny partner. They need to have an obsessive craving for his body. Your guy does not leave the house without condoms. He is ready anytime there is relative privacy, and you are dying to rip his pants down. Charles gets hard pretty fast.

What kills his yearning is a bad day at work, and that has consequences. Seeing Charles struggle has the same effect on you. It doesn’t comfort either of you to just postpone your vexation and replace it with an orgasm. Nor is it a good idea to fuck Charles if his body had to deal with the enormous impact of thudding against a track wall. When he is worn out and depressed, it’s no good to milk him for attention or pleasure. Fatigue is extremely tough to alleviate with sex, whether that be vanilla or not. Charles has no other solution for that than time. You feel for him when he’s retiring the car or missing crucial points. In fact, you cannot comprehend how Charles can bear this inhumane level of constant misfortune and mishandling of his career.

In the same vein, and exactly because Charles cannot stand you looking as ruffled as him, your boyfriend caters to your every need when you have cramps and feel no libido at all. When you feel sick, this stuff is constantly in his head. He thinks, she must feel so uneasy. Or, I hope I wasn’t too loud in the morning making breakfast. Recently, Pierre has given Charles an instructive TED talk on how to mend cramps and body aches. So that advice will be in action, although Charles has to text Pierre to repeat bits and pieces sometimes. „Je suis désolé. My brain is a sieve.“

Charles adds his own touch by cheering you up with his prettiness (very effective) and cuddly body heat, which is the perfect mix. During those days, he seems to be obsessed with peppering your head with countless kisses, and you actually switch positions for once, he big-spoons you. So his hands can go rub rub and say „sorry that you are hurt, mon coeur“. Charles can’t stop kissing and kissing and putting his face in your hair, too. He’s touchier than usual without even being conscious of it, and he doesn’t celebrate a pole for longer than an hour when you’re at a hotel, tucked into bed nauseous.

You didn’t expect him to hurry back to the place you’re staying at, but it’s a pleasant surprise. He brought a ton of your favorite snacks from the groceries. Bébé spent a  fucking fortune. Big ass sandwich, pastries, choco cake, muffins, that one ramen that just never fails to taste amazing, tangy cookies, a mango, paprika crisps, brioche, croissants, and strawberries. Express pain killers and pads your size on top. Boom.

Could he be a better boyfriend? Except for the fruit, he can’t eat any of it because of his diet, but he’s happy to see you eat. He admits it… since Charles doesn’t want to cheat his food plan too much, he lives vicariously through you a little there. You can literally pick from the whole store and stock up without going there. Charles, you legend. He’s so nonchalant about it and just goes to order you some tea from the hotel kitchen, serving it like a butler at the bed. You are the queen of Monaco. Charles also calls you a cute little hamster, though. Hamster mom to be exact, and he is hamster papa, fluffy as he is with that hair.

His recent specialty is helping you shower, picture this pup with a big ole sponge asking „is this okay“ every other second. He genuinely helps. Sometimes, it makes your heart sink that Charles extends more endless concern towards your painful days than toward himself, and you do tell him that. Charles realizes that he could inspire himself from the acts of service he does for you because some driver self-care never hurt anyone. It’s okay to eat a little snack for the soul every now and then.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Before sex, he tends to keep himself awake and ready by doing some light exercises. Warms up his muscles, warms up his torso, which gives off a snuggly heat when you make love. His favorite time of the day to have sex is in the evening. After all that hustle and bustle is long faded, he’s slacking off, he’s showered and shaved again. Only so many hours in a race week — Charles can enter the twilight zone in ten minutes after. Until then, you make sure everything’s cleaned up and dressed up and wound down and switched off. It all follows a certain regimen.

Sleep becomes extremely valuable when you’re on the move. You are 24/7 adventurers and travel enthusiasts, dwelling at a new quay every week to watch the water. Charles and you always look for interesting protected places to go. Charles has his arm across your shoulders often because he is just so huggy. You sometimes fall asleep in a different country than where you wake up, the jet lag is real here. Which also means, you don’t just go all night and forget the rest of the day. Resting as a couple is your number one hobby more than you assumed. It's good to chill with your honey to recharge. The best place to sleep is on your bébé’s chest to hear and feel him breathe.

Charles can’t sleep without you laying down on top of him. More often than not, he gets pretty bizarre dreams otherwise. If you can call it dreams. All kinds of unsolicited graphic nightmares, and that’s a far better description, can drive him into a 4 AM scare, and a gut-wrenching discomfort until he rolls over to you, gladly thinking „everything’s fine, everything still there as it always is“. He often plays with your hair in his sleep to calm himself down. You do the same, he tells you, when you’re the one being exhausted. Who can blame ya. Charles Leclerc… Sleeping beauty right there. Caressing each other is a natural antidote to a bad night.

read charles a-z on ao3

✿ FINAL NOTE. ⇢ i just wanted to post something sexy and instead i’ve been writing and crying my heart out 😔 thanks for reading, i hope this hit home and made y’all laugh. look at my horse, my horse is amazing 🙌 reblogs and esp comments always welcome 💞

© 2017-2022 sugar-petals. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. all depictions are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

[milflewis]

lewierre + hanahaki disease and you'll do it if you love me AT ALL 🙃

you’re so mean to me. i saw this and now i’ve written 2k words of this. but here is a small bit of lewierre surfing bc fran has been asking for that for weeks and i love you both even tho you bully me

“You alright?”

Lewis is backlit by the sun, glowing light at the edges, shoulders broad and naked. For a moment, Pierre thinks he’s eight years old again, communion heavy in his palm, prayers on his tongue, as he memorises the exact shade of white of Michael’s wings in the stained glass window behind the priest.

Pierre blinks and Lewis comes into focus as he steps closer, forehead creased, eyes soft. Pierre is twenty-six years old again and Lewis is just a person, sweat and meat and bone and as imperfect as everyone else, and the salt in the air mixes in with the coppery metal taste in his mouth when he smiles, close lipped.

“Yeah, all good,” he says, swallowing back the flowers that are creeping up his throat. Pierre wishes they tasted more like penance and less of absolution but then again, Lewis has always been kind. It doesn’t make sense that the flowers Pierre’s body grows to show the love he has for Lewis would be anything less.

Lewis watches him for a second and Pierre does his best not to move, to stare right back. There’s nothing to see here, he wants to yell at him. Why do you insist on looking when anyone else, everyone else, would look away?

Lewis smiles eventually, teeth flashing, “Okay, good. Ready for some surfing? All warmed up?

“Yeah,” Pierre laughs. Lewis throws an arm around his shoulders, face open, movement slow, always ready to pull back if needed. Pierre could love him just for that.

When Lewis shoves him into the sea, he lets himself sink for a second, the pressure in his chest expanding and pushing into his whole body, ears clicking. He kicks off the ocean floor, sand solid and hard. He’s coughing up flowers and seawater all mixed together into his hands when he surfaces.

He makes sure to keep his hands closed, petals crushed between his fingers, until he shoves them under water, letting the plants sink and float away. Lewis is too far away to see them. Pierre has never wanted to be yet another burden for him, yet another thing he has to apologise for.

Lewis is laughing from where he’s still standing on the pier. Pierre’s eyes catch on his barefeet, toes curled around the edge of the stone steps.

“You’re a dick,” Pierre yells, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It comes away a little bloody but he dips it into the water and it’s washed away.

“You said you were warmed up!!” Lewis giggles, hand on his stomach as he uses the other to shade his eyes. Pierre flips him off when he says, “Just trying to cool you down, man.”

Pierre leans back, letting himself float along, the water cold against his back as his front is warmed by the sun. He stares up at the sky, blue and rolling and infinitely wide in every direction. The air is cleaner here, sharper in his lungs, than it is in the city. He can feel his body bobbing in the waves. This is good, he tells himself. And it is.

He can hear Lewis on the shore, carrying their boards down to the end of the pier. He’ll have to open his eyes soon. Have to do some actual surfing before Lewis lets them mess around, maybe go for some food after. He makes a mental note to remember to take a picture with him to put up on Instagram. Charles will accidentally send it to George if Pierre asks him nicely.

“Oi!” Lewis calls. “We don’t have all day, you know?”

Pierre grins, waving at him, and swims back to the pier. He hauls himself, crossing his arms over the edge and smiling up at Lewis. He files away the dip and blink of Lewis’s eyes as they flicker down to his chest and up again. It’s so quick that part of Pierre thinks he imagined it but he knows how guilt sits on someone’s face when they’re trying to hide it, when they’re trying to swallow it back.

He tilts his head, letting his smile widen slowly, “Waiting for you.”

Lewis blinks, the little space between his eyebrows furrowing, the kind of intense focus Pierre vividly remembers from all the videos of watching him driving. He digs his nails into his wrist to ignore how it makes his stomach heat up.

Lewis crouches in front of him, thighs suddenly bunched up and thick in Pierre’s face and he falters, which is enough time for Lewis to reach out and push him backwards, fingers light in his hair. Pierre is laughing again when he hits the water.

[tracksidequeen]

My imagination always runs wild for Lewis....the things I think that man could do, he is super hot and yet seemingly super sweet. I could totally imagine a dog walking fic where you bump into each other a few times, out to dinner, back to his place....

The other one that gets me going is Lando and his super intense eyes. He could catch my gaze across a room and I'd never look away.

AAAhhh I'm getting so many Lewis requests and I AM LOVING it!! I need to write a date night with Lewis Fluff/smut ASAP.

The way I imagine him being super protective and admiring your every move, from the moment you wake up next to him to the moment you fall asleep in his arms.

The dog walking scene would be so cute, take a stroll on the beach and eat there at a cute restaurant on the boulevard, watching the sunset sipping wine and getting tipsy together. Roscoe laying there comfortably, dozing off resting his head against your foot.

Everything so sweet the whole evening, and as soon as you get home and enter the bedroom, that sweetness becomes desire-full passion. Him slowly undressing you and placing sweet kisses all over your body, while you giggle shyly unable to understand how a man could turn you on this much (and maybe also bc you're still a bit tipsy).

The two of you make passionate love and he makes sure to caress every inch of your body in the process, tracing his tongue up and down you skin. You both take your time, taking in every sensation and you both reach you climax whilst kissing each other deeply, eating each others moans.

Afterwards he'd clean you up gently and place you back on the bed, and you lay down with him between your arms. Feeling safe in his embrace you fall asleep while he admires your beauty and realises how he is the luckiest man in the world.

[rahleeyah]

I totally missed doula Liv! Please, tell us about her!

Thank you 🥰🥰🥰🥰 lmao ok so

Doula Liv

Here we go

After the Lewis trial, Liv walks away from the NYPD. She's got her twenty, got her pension, saw Lewis put away, but she lost pieces of herself in the process, and she is struggling with guilt and the resurgence of her ptsd, and she can't keep going on like this. She needs a change.

She has always, always been a helper. She wants to help people, help women, in a way that doesn't require her to break herself in half. She starts volunteering at the rape crisis center. She meets people, ends up volunteering at the local pp. She meets more people, and her therapist encourages her, and she trains as a doula. She loves the idea of it, not just helping to bring new lives into the world but also supporting their families. It comforts her. Sometimes late at night she wonders if she made the right choice; is this the best place for her? Are these the people who need her help most? Is she just being selfish? But then she thinks about all those babies who are safe bc of her and after tells herself no. The average shelf life of a detective in svu is 3 years. She put in nearly sixteen. She did more good than most, and got out before she lost her life.

One of the nurses at the hospital tells her about the little baby the police brought in, the one no one seems to want. While they're waiting to decide what to do with him Liv sits in a rocking chair on the ward, and holds him. There's something special about him, she thinks. Maybe it's because nobody wanted him, just like nobody wanted her. She keeps an eye out for him. It's been a long time since she set foot in a courthouse but Judge Linden remembers her. And one day, exasperated by how this child has been treated, asks Liv to take him home. So she does. She still gets Noah.

But it's different. She doesn't have to work; her mother left her a sizeable inheritance (Rich Girl Liv) and she invested wisely and she's got her pension, but she needs something to do. She takes as many clients as she wants, and still volunteers at the rape crisis center. But she gets more time with Noah, and she loves it.

She's not in business alone; she has a partner. Idk let's call her Mary, just to give her a name. Babies are unpredictable and occasionally - not often, they do their best to avoid it - they have to pinch hit for each other during a labor. And one day it happens. Noah's in school and one of Mary's clients has gone into labor but she's assisting with a home birth that just won't end and please, can Liv go?

She says of course, takes down the client's name and information and rushes to the hospital. The nurses know her and Mary told them she was coming, she heads back to the delivery room. Just as she approaches the door, a woman walks out.

It's Kathy fucking Stabler.

They both rock back on their heels for a second, completely shocked. The client's name is Maureen Dawson and a half hysterical laugh bubbles up in the back of her throat; it's Maureen. Elliot's Maureen. She's been called in to deliver Elliot's grandchild. She doesn't know if she wants to scream or cry.

"Olivia?" Kathy breathes her name. "Did Elliot call you?"

And that's a shock, bc Liv hasn't spoken to the man in ten years. Why would his wife think he called her?

"no," she says. "Mary did."

And she explains, and Kathy laughs, a little wild around the eyes, and hugs her suddenly, quickly, fiercely. And then they step into the room together.

Maureen is in the bed, the man who must be her husband holding her hand tightly. He barely notices Liv's entrance, but Maureen does.

"Olivia?" She asks, confused.

"hey, Mo," Liv answers, trying not to cry. She explains again.

"I didn't know," she tells Kathy, a little desperately. "I swear I didn't-"

Kathy shakes her head. "I'm glad it's you," she says.

And they get to work. It's shaping up to be a long labor, and they settle in for the long haul. Kathy tells Maureen's husband that it's only fitting Olivia is here to deliver her first grandbaby, after what she did for Kathy and Eli. There's no one I'd trust more, Kathy says, and Liv tries not to cry. It's just so surreal; these people belong to her old life, a life she thought she'd left behind, and now she's here. There's no wedding ring on Kathy's finger but Liv won't ask, can't ask, not now.

Eventually Elliot comes barreling into the room, wild eyed. He stops short when he sees her, but they're getting down to the wire. Everyone's focus is on Maureen. Elliot goes to her, kisses her forehead, tells her how much he loves her. But then she's pushing, and he backs away, lets Kathy hold one of her hands while her husband holds the other. Liv coaches her through it, gently, and he's mesmerized by her, how her hair is longer, softer than he remembers, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiles, the deftness of her hands. Between Liv and Maureen and the doctor they get the job done, and Liv's hands are the first to hold his grandson, cradling him gently before carrying him to Maureen, settling him on her chest. Everyone is crying, now.

Mary turns up and takes over, and the family is gathered around, staring at the baby, and Liv slips away. It's not her place to linger, she thinks. They don't need her.

Kathy notices Elliot noticing her departure, though.

"go get her," she says.

And so he does.

He catches up with her in the hallway, asks her if she wants a coffee. The sun has gone down and Noah is at home with a sitter but she can't say no. She doesn't want to.

They get coffees from the cafeteria but there are too many eyes and the walls are suffocating so they take them outside. Find a spot on the steps out of the way, and watch the city moving around then, both of them thinking about all the nights they spent sitting on a stoop somewhere, just being together.

Elliot tells her haltingly what became of him. Why he had to leave. That he and Kathy are divorced. That he's missed her, every day. And Liv hears him, and she wants to be angry, she does, but he's here beside her and she's just held his grandson in her arms, and the anger feels very far away. Sitting there on those steps with their shitty hospital coffee, both their lives start over again, moving in the same direction this time.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Band of Brothers-

Cute/charming things they say when they walk into a room and see you/you walk into a room and they see you:

Babe: 

“oh SHIIIIIT! There’s my BABY! Do you see her, fellas? GodDAMN, I’m a lucky sonofabitch!” 

(you blush so hard and are just like Babe, we’re at work stahp it but he dgaf).

It’s embarrassing and always makes Martin glare so imploringly at you that you’ll go over to Babe just to make him be quiet. Because, you know, YOU’RE AT WORK. 

This bitch is shameless when it comes to loving on you, having once come to stand next to you when Sink was giving an important announcement and straight-up PINCHED. YOUR. ASS. 

how you didn’t yelp is a miracle, and how no one else seemed to notice was equally astounding 

(oh, the boys noticed. They kinda shipped it tho, so it was more a matter of hiding their joy). 

Needless to say, it only happened the once, something you made Babe swear after you pulled him aside and punched him in the arm. 

Don’t worry, you kissed it better.

Roe: 

bb boy doesn’t say anything at first, 

the smile he saves just for you is playing at his lips as you walk up to meet him, tho.

The moment you’re close enough that he can smell the  sweet mint of your gum, he’ll whisper something sweet like “hey you” or “mon amor”, or maybe just your name 

(bc let’s be honest, his accent is 10 out of 10 and he could read me the dictionary and I’d still rock an ugly giggle/snort combo). 

If it’s a more serious situation, like if you’re hurt oh lordy

he will literally shout your name until either you shout back or someone tells him where you are. 

I could see him being a face holder, in the sense that he does it to reassure himself that you’re okay and make sure he has your undivided attention. 

Since getting injured in Carentan, you hadn’t been as close to the frontlines as you had been, so when you were needed you are REALLY NEEDED, 

and even if he didn’t like it Gene knew you were the best at what you did. 

Gene also feels better if he knows where you are.

 Even when you eventually return to Easy, he will feel better knowing which Foxhole you’re in, and knowing he’s seen to it your first aid kit was fully stocked.

Liebgott: 

THAT FUCKER’S SMIRKING AT YOU SO OPENLY that whoever he had been talking to instantly goes 

*sigh* y/n’s just came in, didn’t she? 

And he won’t even ANSWER because he’s already shoving past them to walk up and eye you with obvious satisfaction. 

“Bout time you showed up,” he’d say casually, hands finding your hips giving them a quick squeeze. 

“Sooner we get briefed, sooner we can get outta here.” 

(You’re not fully sure what ‘getting outta here’ entails, but if the way he looked at you was any indication, you had a feeling it didn’t involve anything less than PG-13 sexy times.)

Bull: 

“Hey, little lady.”

He’ll say it no matter how tall or short you are, how wide or how narrow.

He will always say it to you that when you first see each other in the morning 

(sometimes, you wake up to Hey, little lady being kissed into the soft skin behind your ear.) 

(Once while on a 48 hour pass, he’d woken you up that way in a REAL bed and the two of you had nearly gotten him sent up Curahee for being late coming back because you’d ended up spending more time in that bed than either of you anticipated Whoops)

(Even if he had been late, he definitely wouldnt have minded, tbh. He fully considered going AWOL if it mean neither of you had to leave the bed)

but throughout the day he’s more concerned about getting his hands on some part of you whenever the two of you had been apart- 

even if it was for like five minutes. 

Nothing over the top- holding his arm up and out so you can step into his side, a press of his lips to your temple. 

Idk guys i just feel like he’d just love you so much that everyone would be able to see, which they do and they all think it’s fucking cute

Buck: 

He doesn’t always call out when he sees you, mostly because your eyes always seem to find his. 

The two of you could be across a field from one another with a thousand angry Germans between you, guns blazing, and the two of you would always spot each other like two honing beacons. 

If its downtime and you guys don’t have to be on your guard he’ll ABSOLUTELY wolf whistle in at you, 

You’ll see a stupid grin lighting up his face as he nods in your direction. 

“Take a look, boys. I think we’ve got ourselves a…” 

and he always waits until you’re close enough that he can wrap a quick arm around your waist and pat your hip. 

“Certified babe-asaurus!” 

(in a foxhole somewhere, a wild Babe’s head pokes up in confusion). 

You groan and boo him, and whoever he was with inevitably ends up booing him too.

But he doesn’t care because seeing you smile makes him so happy you guys.

Lipton: 

If you’re in public, he will quietly step up beside you and place his hand gently between your shoulder blades.

He’s not super into PDA, which you didn’t mind because what he didn’t show in physical touch he more than made up for in open admiration. 

He is in awe of you 

sometimes he worries you forget how highly he thinks of you, how highly everybody thinks of you 

(you don’t forget, but he’s just one of those people who will get intrusive thoughts like that and sometimes has a hard time shaking them so plz just let him say it ok?)

so he always whispers some praise with his greeting 

(Hey, beautiful...Doin’ okay, love?...What’re you thinking, brilliant girl?). 

It’d probably seem like overkill if anyone else did it but Carwood is just so goddamn sincere that you can’t help but duck a quick kiss to his shoulder. 

HOWEVER! 

If you two kids are alone….

OH BOI. 

He is handsy, coming up and caging you with his arms, 

probably pulling you close quickly so you lose your balance and he can hold you a lil bit.

(He likes to sweep you off your feet im so sorry)

 That’s when his praises are hushed and sighed between long slow kisses. 

Nixon: 

Like Liebgott, he’s a snarky motherfucker who will get the most self-satisfied grin on his face the moment he sees you, instantly turning on the famous Lewis Nixon charm ( something he’d long since decided belonged to you and you alone.)

“Uh oh,” he’d say, looking you up and down before raising an eyebrow.

(bc your hot but also he doesn’t want to get all flirty if you’re hurt or sick or something’s up bc ur not just something to flirt with- YOU ARE A BADASS WITH BADASS RESPONSIBILITIES AND THAT WAS SOMETHING HE very often and sometimes FOUND SO HOT THAT IT MADE HIM THINK HE MAY HAVE AN AUTHORITY FETISH this has been a PSA) 

“Here comes trouble.”

you roll your eyes, the behavior you once found cocky and arrogant having becoming endearing somewhere between Toccoa and England. 

He has absolutely no qualms about PDA (verbal or physical), so it’s up to you to reign him in 

(especially if he’s a lil tipsy, poor Luz didn’t need to hear Lewis’s sloppy and shameless plea for you to let him eat you out on top of piano he’d found in the attic of the billet he’d been assigned. You weren’t able to look at George for a week without wanting to die of embarrassment and Lewis Nixon didn’t get any for two weeks. He was sure to never make such a mistake ever again) 

And Dick had probably grown blind to how Lewis liked to pull you his lap and run his hands up and down your thighs while you played with his hair. 

Also, like Lipton, he probably saves the more explicit acts of PDA for when the company has scheduled downtime 

(but only bc you told him he needed to keep it in his pants any other time he tried to get cute with you)

but you can bet your ass his hand will always try to tap it (your ass, that is.)at least once

a day when he isn’t supposed to.

That’s when you get to punish him whoopsies

Dick: 

since the day you were introduced to Dick in Georgia, the boy always made sure to stand when you entered a room and will call you “ma’am”,

(you know, LIKE HE DOES ONLY BECAUSE HE HAS TO FOR SOBEL BC RANKS. I feel like he has a “we salute the woman, not the rank” speech queued up for anyone who tried to give him shit for it BUT THAT’s JUST ME)

but he has a knowing look in his eye that makes the term ‘ma’am’ feel anything but impersonal.

It confused the shit out of replacements, who would automatically stand because their superior officer (that would be Big Dick Winters) did- only to see you standing there in your fatigues with a coffee in each hand with a look of mutual confusion on your face. 

(bc while they like you, but they’re confused still bc while you’re a boss ass bitch,  you didn’t outrank him...or at least they theink you dont?) 

Babe had been the one to ask you about the longing looks and lingering glances, and when you didn’t know how to answer him you’d gone to Nixon, 

He’d burst into tearful laughter and was unable to get it together enough to explain anything.

Dick had been the one to bring it up the next time they were alone, weirdly enough, as she proofread his report for errors that didn’t exist. 

Because you warrant it, he’d said when pressed for a reason why he greeted her like a ranking officer, looking down at his boots as they both blushed like teenagers at a school dance. 

After that, he still stood wherever you walked in

but now he made a point to brush his fingers against yours at some point during the time you were together. 

He’s the definition of a slow burn friends-to-lovers story, and boi can get spicy LEMME TELL YOU.

(this is my first writing thing ever plz let a sister know if there are any glaring typos. Also i’m roughly 97 years late to fandom but I brought y’all some starbucks so plz let me in thank you)

[themostawesomehuman]

In another life

The gang meeting Mina as requested by @daisyherxndale

(I kinda added a bit of Thomstair in there just bc)

As usual I hope u enjoy it and if there’s anything I can improve on then tell meeee! Here we go again with my amateur writing....Sry it took a long time! It’s kinda short but still hope it’s alright!

Tagging: @daisyherxndale @lily-chen-deserves-better @morgnstern @mitsuhamiyamizi @brotherlipsmackariahs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @thanatosangels @hands-dripping-ink @raccoon-dog-from-mercury @rainbow-sheepofthefamily @fairchild-squad @fieryfantasybooklover @bridgestocksariadne @taco-taco-belle @cecilyfightwood @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @liam-h-205 @insane---chaos @d3monp0xx @immyownghostwriter @matthewfaichild @simon-lewis-is-a-skinny-legend @alyssaswords @fairchild-blackthorn @foreverfallentoast @mithriel-of-mithlond @banesbitch @zafirafox4636 @ginacsonka @a-very-gay-spider @tessagraycarstairs @truth-lies-hidden @oscar-fairchild @churchthecatismyspiritanimal

——————————————————————————————————————

“Christopher!” the rest of the Merry screeched in unison.

Thanks to the Shadowhunter reflexes Matthew quickly retrieved baby Mina and cuddled her protectively in his arms while eyeing Christopher angrily. Though Christopher had a younger brother, it did not make him any better at holding babies. As James moved closer Mina, she stretched her arms up to her half-brother, staring at him with her dark brown eyes. James’s face softened as baby Mina instinctively warped her round little fingers around his index finger, gripping it tightly. Thomas was looking at Mina fondly but still refusing to hold her as he explained that he didn’t know how Alastair offered to give him a demonstration. It wasn’t that Matthew was horrible at holding babies but Alastair made it look so easy like holding a cup of tea or waking up in the morning which Thomas admired.

Watching Alastair with Mina warmed Thomas’ heart. He knew that Alastair would be a good father one day, maybe a perhaps even a brilliant one, definitely a much better father than Elias Carstairs had been. Alastair was properly supporting the baby’s head and was gentle with his hands, his face relaxed and his lips curled a ghost of a smile hung on his lips as the baby clapped her hands in excitement. He looked so content with the simple task that Thomas almost wished that Alastair could be like that more often. Lately he had been so stressed that Thomas felt that like a string Alastair would snap in half, seeing Alastair with Mina was like a dream. Something Thomas would want for Alastair, for Alastair to be happy, that would be more than enough. For Alastair to be happy even if it’s not because of him.

Thomas knew fully well that if they were to be together, they could not have what his parents had or any other couple would. He knew that it would have been very challenging and he secretly wondered if it really would make Alastair happy in the end for if they were together, they would have no children. He would never see Alastair like this with his own family. It broke Thomas’s heart to think that he would somehow take that away from Alastair.

He knew that the Herondale boy had told him that the future was very different, people could love freely and openly but not right now. This isn’t the future. Right now to love another man is a crime. Right now, it would hurt Alastair, not directly but he knew it would and hurting Alastair would be the last thing he wished to do.

Maybe in another life, they could be together, to live together and to grow old together. Maybe in another life they would have found each other again. Maybe in another life, Thomas thought as he glanced back into the room of familiar loving faces and some new yet loving ones.

Maybe in another life.

Maybe in another life, I will find you, Alastair Carstairs.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Forever | Taehyung

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

Requested: indeed it was, long longs times agos days :')

Genre: angst

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: language, mutual break up, implied alcohol consumption, slightly drunk taetae, just sad sad times all around is all :(

a/n: so I decided to combine these two bc I felt they would work, hope you guys like it. Based on song: Forever by Lewis Capaldi, so I suggest listening to it if you haven't. idk how I feel bout this one. I think I have carpal tunnel again tho so this is the best I could do w/o dying im so sorry

----------------------------------------

~Darling, nobody said that it would last forever.

That doesn’t mean we didn’t try to get there.

I never said that we would die together.

That doesn’t mean it was a lie.

Remember, nobody said that it would last forever.~

The morning sun filters in through the blinds, creating a line of light that sweeps across the carpet, up onto the little coffee table. The little light bounces off the coffee cup resting on the coaster; untouched. The coffee in the cup has been cold for a while now. A sigh breaks the dead silence as Taehyung stretches his arms above his head; groaning from the soreness in his muscles before he drops his arms again. He looks around the empty apartment and wills the small ache in his heart to go away.

Stop it, he chides himself and stands up to take a shower before he has to leave for dance practice.

Just move on.

You know nothing lasts forever. 

“Can you please pass the strawberries, baby?” Tae asked sleepily as he laid on the picnic blanket, his arm covering his eyes and his breaths steady and slow. You giggled when you grabbed a strawberry and set it on his lips, startling him and making him sit up.

“You scared me!” Tae laughed and grabbed you, planting a sweet kiss onto your forehead before you could squirm away.

“I love you, you little rascal.” Taehyung rubbed his nose against yours sweetly, leaving a soft peck on your lips before pulling you down to lie next to him.

*ding*

Taehyung groans and runs his hands down his face, wiping the water out of his eyes before reaching down and turning the shower off. He steps out of the glass doors and grabs his towel, wrapping it around his waist and grabbing his phone to open it and see a text message from Jimin.

Jimin: You alright? Practice started half an hour ago.

“Shit.” Tae mumbles to himself, he forgot they changed the times the other day. Gosh, he needs to get his head straight. He quickly types a reply to Jimin saying he’ll be there soon and hurries into his closet to get changed.

When Tae walks into the practice room half an hour later, he sees everyone’s eyes on him. The worst part is they all look sympathetic instead of angry at his tardiness. He wishes they’d at least scold him for being an hour late, not stare at him like he was about to burst into tears, and they’d be ready to jump and comfort when it happened.

“Sorry I’m late. I overslept and forgot we changed times.” He says after clearing his throat, hoping it’ll bring everyone back to the task at hand. Yoongi seems to sense his younger brother’s discomfort so he speaks up, “It’s fine. We were just talking about placements, nothing fun. We can get started now!” Tae nods and gives Jimin a weak smile when the other boy looks at him questioningly.

 “I got it Tae! I got the job!”

“Really?? That’s amazing baby!”

It was amazing…at the time.

But you being a doctor and him being an idol, started to weigh on both your shoulders. But you wanted to make it work.

“Maybe we could go to the movies tomorrow?” You asked quietly one night, frowning when your boyfriend didn’t look up from his phone. “Tae?” He moved his eyes away from his screen to your figure sitting next to him on the couch. You felt his hand squeeze your thigh gently, and you knew what was coming.

“I’m sorry babe, you know we can’t.”

You didn’t know why you even asked. Sometimes you wished you could just stand on the roof and scream out to the entire world that you were Kim Taehyung’s girlfriend, and you would go out with him wherever you pleased. As if being a full time doctor wasn’t taking enough of your time with him.

But, you loved him, so you never voiced out the sadness you felt in your heart whenever you saw couples walking around the streets, holding hands and giggling. You just silently wished that maybe someday that could be you too.

“Well, tomorrow is my day off and I want to hang out with you.” You pouted and messed with your fingers. Taehyung set his phone down and looked at you sadly, “Hey baby, we can still hang out. We’ll order pizza and have a movie night here. How does that sound?” You nodded and smiled, glad to at least be able to see him.

 “Taehyung! Did you hear me?”

The pretty blonde flinches and looks over at Hoseok who’s watching him in exasperation. “Uh, sorry. What did you say?”

Hoseok sighs and repeats what everyone needs to work on for the next take. Tae tries his best to do it right, move his feet like everyone else and remember all the arm movements. But he just keeps messing up. He can’t focus.

All he can think about is you. The look on your face that day, and how he wanted to stop you and tell you that he didn’t mean it and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything but being with you.

But he’s not sure if you even feel the same anymore.

 “Taehyung, I think we need to talk.”

He feels his heart race at the way you say those words. He wants to tell you no, there’s nothing to talk about. Everything is fine.

But he knows that’s a lie. So, he clears his throat and nods.

You fiddle with your hands as you sit on his couch, neither of you wanting to start, neither of you really knowing what you want to say.

“I love you, Tae.”

Fuck.

He knows what’s coming.

“That’s why I think we need to stop this.”

“What are you talking about?” He whispers.

You sigh and put your head in your hands, “Don’t Tae. You’re making me feel like the bad guy here.”

“So, I’m the bad guy?”

“No! I never said that. It isn’t anyone’s fault, please stop making this harder for me.”

Tae clenches his jaw and lets you continue.

“This isn’t fair to either of us. We never see each other anymore and when we do, we always end up fighting. It isn’t healthy.”

He knows what you’re saying is true.

As much as he wants to deny it and tell you everything is fine, he knows that it’s gone too far. He looks at you, seeing your red eyes as you try to hold the tears in. “I don’t want to keep holding you back.” You whisper tearfully, and he takes your hand gently.

“Hey, don’t say that. If anything, I’m the one who’s been holding you back.”

You shake your head at that, then wipe your tears.

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry.” He says quietly, still holding your hand.

Then he smiles at you gently, “Friends?”

You force a smile and give him a small nod. “I’d like that.”

Jimin kicks Taehyung on the shin, taking the other by surprise as he hisses in pain. “What the hell was that for?”

“You weren’t paying attention to me.”

“What do you want?” Tae scowls. Jimin links his arm with his best friend and pulls him towards the door. “Want to get a drink.”

Tae is about to refuse, then he thinks, why the hell not?

“Sure.”

“Yes!”

~                ~               ~

A few hours later, Taehyung stumbles into his apartment, more drunk than he had intended to be. He walks to his room with wobbly steps, falling onto his bed and closing his eyes for a minute. Then he grabs his phone and pushes some numbers into it, holding it up to his ear and waiting.

“Hello?”

He feels the tears choking him when your voice sounds through the phone. He stays silent, then he hears you sigh.

“Tae? You there?”

“Y/n, I- I miss you.” He whines, his voice wavering.

“Tae, are you drunk?”

“No…”

“…”

“Well not much.”

“You need to get some sleep, don’t you have practice tomorrow?” You try to hide your own tears, hearing his shaky voice is causing your heart to ache like crazy.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for not making time for you.”

“Tae-“

“Please just hear me out. I know it’s all my fault, and I’m so sorry.”

“It isn’t anyone’s fault. People grow apart and that’s okay. Please take care of yourself, Tae. Go get some sleep and stop blaming yourself. I promise you, it’s okay.”

The line disconnects and he drops his phone onto the bed. Then he turns and hugs his pillow tightly.

He wishes he had done everything differently. Maybe you wouldn’t have broken up if he just tried harder…

~                ~            ~

You drop your phone on your desk and put your head in your hands, letting yourself cry into them.

You know this is for the best. You couldn’t stand seeing him overwork himself to make time for you and have it only end up in inevitable fights. You love him too much to watch him withering away for you.

It wasn’t fair to him and it wasn’t fair to you. You thought you had found the one. And maybe you did, but at the wrong time.

You suck in a deep breath and wipe your eyes, picking yourself up and grabbing your jacket and car keys to head home for the night.

Come on y/n, suck it up.

After all, nobody said it would last forever.

Except...he did.

----------------------------------------

a/n: i am sad sad and in pain bean. no talk to me.