#f1 prompt

[syzygyofeureka]

Carlos "Shut the fuck up and go in kitchen to make me fucking sandwich" sainz typical misogynistic husband.

Oscar "Do it yourself you fucking manbaby" Piastri radical feminist

[ssentimentals]

hey i wanted to request soft promt 37 with lando... idk its just really lando coded

i love you forever for sending me f1 prompts!! 💜 and it IS lando coded, thank you for requesting and i hope you'll like it!

fluff prompt: 'it's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling.'

lando adjusts his jacket for the third time, ignoring carlos and his pointedly amused stare. he obviously has it easy - his girlfriend is right next to him and they both are sickeningly in love with each other, so it's not like he has to woo her with his appereance. unlike lando, who is very much single and has a job to woo you with his appereance. shit, does he have time to go back and change?

'cabron, you're overthinking this,' carlos says in attempt to calm him down. 'you look fine, i promise i wouldn't have set you up on a double date if i weren't sure that she likes you back.'

just the thought that carlos might be right, that you actually might lando back is enough to perk him up. carlos is not that cruel to joke about stuff like this and lando is...well, hopeful. his hope rise further when rebecca softly says that you two would make a great couple. he honestly can't agree more; his imagination painted that picture too many times in his mind of you two being together. god, you'd be so good to each other, he knows. he knows all of this, so he has no idea why he starts acting like an idiot when you turn up.

'this looks suspiciously like a double date from the outside,' you murmur, sliding up to the booth next to him, watching as carlos and rebecca argue about the drinks.

you look beautiful. stunning, really. which is what he is supposed to say but instead what comes from his mouth is: 'it's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling.'

lando is ready to hit his head on the table, but then you laugh and oh. he is okay with being an idiot if it makes you laugh like that. he likes your laugh, like your smile. lando likes so many things about you, it's getting ridicilous how he has such a hard time articulating all of it to you.

'you two look cute,' carlos comments offhandedly.

'oh, do we?' you ask, turning to lando, smiling. 'not as cute as you two though.'

'we are cuter than them.' lando argues, when food arrives. 'how can you lie to them?'

he likes making you laugh. lando is sure that he looks like a lovesick puppy, but my god, if making you laugh was a job, he'd apply for it and stay in this position for as long as you'll have him. your eyes shine bright when you turn to him, sitting as close as this little booth allows you to. 'that's very confident,' you comment, chuckling. 'but we gotta let them win this one, lan. they are together, afterall.'

lando blinks. he can be such an idiot, but he surely can't miss this chance, right? 'then we should get together too,' he says quietly even though both carlos and rebecca are busy slow dancing on the dance floor. 'so we can win this argument.'

there's a pause when you try to gauge his reaction, to understand whether he's being real or not. lando just stares at you with all of the emotions written clearly on his face for you to see. 'just for the sake of winning this argument?' you ask at last, more serious but still smiling.

'for winning this life.' lando lets out and cringes at the same second, making you howl with laughter.

'oh my god, that was horrible!' you squeak, leaning on him, laughing.

'i can't believe i said that as well,' lando mutters, shy, but happily wrapping one arm around your shoulders. 'cringed so hard.'

'okay, lando norris.' you lean back, still laughing. 'okay. am i correct in assumption that you imply us being together will mean that we're winning this life?' lando nods, biting his lower lip. you smile softly, taking his hand in yours. 'i agree, then.'

lando fears his heart stopped. 'yeah?'

you lean in, brushing his nose with his. 'yeah.'

nevermind, his heart is fine. it's beating again, stronger than ever.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[ao3lestappeninchident]

i saw your prompt list, can i have prompt 29 with Lando?

Prompt list

Necklace

Lando Norris x reader

Prompt: "I know it is a little expensive"

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Your birthday was coming up in a couple weeks and Lando wanted it to make it as perfect as it could be. That is what you deserve. He rented out your favorite restaurant weeks in advance so you could have some privacy with your friends and family. A cake had been ordered at the best bakery and invitations had been sent out. The only thing that was missing were your presents.

Lando had already bought some books he knew you wanted to read and a signt LP from your favorite artist, but that wasn't enough for the love of his life. So he invited you for a day to go shopping and you could pick out anything you wanted and lando would swipe his card to pay for it.

That is how you found yourself walking through the store, Lando close behind you with a basket. He loved seeing you pick something out which you liked. Even more when he would be taking it of.

His head was shot up by your voice,"This one is nice," you beam at the necklace in your hand.

"Let me see," Lando puts out his hand and you gave him the piece of jewellery.

"I know it is a little expensive," you stated as Lando looked at the necklace. It was a delicate gold( or silver ) Lariat necklace wich you wanted to wear with a new low neck dress you got from Lando a few weeks back.

Lando raised his eyebrows at your statement. The price was 30 euros and he didn't want to brag, but he could afford more than that. They were in Monaco and the first store you walked into was a Zara. "Darling, do I have to show you my bank account. You can get more than this." Lando says to you as he puts it into the basket.

You smile at him but shook your head, "I don't want you to spend too much on me. You already got me that dress."

"That dress wasn't for your birthday, it was because you said you found it beautiful. I wasn't going to let it be bought by someone else." he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the check out. "I will buy this, because you like it. But we are going to take a stop at YSL and DIOR. I saw you eyeing some stuff when we walked past it."

You wanted to argue with him but Lando shushed you. It felt bad to admit, but he was right. You always dreamed of those YSL heels. I mean, who doesn't? He paid for the necklace and hand in hand you walked outside the store.

"It is going to be your birthday. You deserve to have the best presents and that is only going to happen when you actually pick everything you want. You like it, I buy it. Deal?"

You laugh at his speech. "I am sorry that I don't want you to spend all your money, I didn't think you would want that."

He let a soft laugh and kissed your head, "Don't be ridiculous. I buy a McLaren for you if you want. Just say the words."

[vettelsvee]

VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I) ⋆ I've been thinking of this for quite a while and I've finally decided to post this! So, if you want to, feel free to requests as many times as you want <3 ─ Drivers I write for: anyone (current F1 grid or retired). ─ Send me your requests via Tumblr Inbox (+ some idea in case you want me to write something specific). Just choose a number from the following ones and tell me the driver you want me to write about! ─ The ones in bold are already taken and will be posted as soon as possible

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

1. "Your face is so adorable. I bet the rest of your body is" ✅ "You want that book? I'll buy you the whole series" ↳ Oscar Piastri 3. "Darling, are you feeling well?" 4. "Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you" ↳ Lando Norris 5. "I might have slept with your robe when you were gone" 6. "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you" ↳ Max Verstappen 7. "Here, let's share the blanket" 8. "You have to be quiet if you want to cum" ↳ Lando Norris 9. "But I want to hear you sing" 10. "I'm gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop" ↳ Max Verstappen 11. "Are you gonna be good for me?" ↳ Lewis Hamilton 12. "Don't get up - I'll do it" 13. "Star-gazing was a good idea" 14. "You look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight" 15. "I think I love you"

16. "I'll always be here for you" 17. "How about something warm? It'll help you sleep" (Oscar Piastri) 18. "It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway" 19. Don't be silly. I want to stay up with you" 20. "It's not morning yet" 21. "Have a nice nap?" 22. "You have sleepy stuff in your eyes" 23. "Time to wake up sweetie. It's a new day" 24. "You stayed up past your bedtime again, didn't you?" 25. "Why don't we take a nap together? We can be nap buddies" ↳ Carlos Sainz 26. "You're exhausted, honey" 27. "Are you blushing?" (Oscar Piastri) ✅ "Hey, hey, hey, don't let them say that. You're beautiful" ↳ Lewis Hamilton 29. "Yeah, you're cold. I'm giving you my jacket" 30. "It looks better on you anyway" 31. "You look pretty today" 32. "Can we get married already?" ↳ Lando Norris 33. "Oh, uh, hey. I just wanted to remind you that I love you" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 34. "We should compare hands, you know. Science" "What?" "What? It's not like we haven't done anything worse" ↳ Carlos Sainz 35. "You're cute" "What" "I said you look like a fruit" "That doesn't even make sneak" 36. "Yeah, okay, so what if I dreamt about kissing you? Don't we all do that to our best friends ...No? What do you mean no?" ↳ Lando Norris 37. "This sounds like you're flirting with me" "...I have been trying to do that for three years now" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 38. "You're the most important person of my life" 39. "Welcome to fatherhood" 40. "God, I'm never leaving your side again" 41. "I got the mirror so you can see yourself while I'm fucking you" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 42. "Don't touch me. Just watch" ↳ Sebatian Vettel 43. "What are you wearing?" 44. "Just watch them having sex with me. Maybe it'll give us some ideas" 45. "Your hair is really soft after you wash it" 46. "Ssh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 47. "You smell really nice" 48. "You're my new pillow" 49. "We can talk over dinner" 50. "Don't be stubborn. Try it!"

[neptunescore]

Historical au and hair brushing/braiding please!

Trope Mashup

Mar!!! So nice to see I haven't scared you off after my momentary loss of sanity and dovquez info dump🤗

I'm gonna assign landoscar to this bc they're the first ones that came to mind.

This one would be pretty angsty. However, after some research, I have realised I can get away with it, so...

Victorian era brothel workers Lando and Oscar, except they're both girls and have come into the sex worker life because of different but equally unwilling circumstances (doesn't mean they're not having fun with it).

Their first meeting happens because of some grimy old moustached man wanting to have a threesome, and the Madam pairing the 2 of them up. Cut to the morning after, and the both of them just start talking, realising that they get along pretty well.

I feel like in this au, Lando had been abandoned at the brothel as a child, and so she's literally grown up living with the Madam and having no choice but to get into the work, bc that's all she's ever known. She's not necessarily unhappy abt it, but she does wish the other girls would talk to her more (she's a little ostracised for being the Madam's 'favourite'), and well... no one really knows this, but Lando wants to be an artist. She wants to have her work up in galleries, and she wants to be known.

Oscar, on the other hand, has just recently lost her family bc of some sort of devastating accident, and that's how she falls into the market. The Madam doesn't know it, but Oscar’s got a plan. She's a writer. Well, an aspiring one. And she's been sending her works and scripts to all sorts of theatres. It's just a matter of time before one of her works gets picked up and she gets some quick money. She's out of here then... or so she thought.

Because now there's this pretty girl seeking her out whenever she's free. A pretty girl with flowy dresses and bright eyes and flushed cheeks. A pretty girl with long curly hair that she has no idea how to take care of. Oscar's got a short bob. She had three sisters. She sits Lando down and wraps her fingers around thick locks of hair and plaits them up. Winds flowers in them and brushes loose strands away from the olive of Landos face. She wants to do this forever.

I think at one point, the 2 of them grow like super close, and Lando (very self-consciously) shows Oscar some of her paintings. Oscar is obviously awed, because this is beautiful. They deserve to be hung up in kingdoms. And also, ecstatic. Because oh my god, Lando's also into the arts. They have like a heart to heart after that, where Oscar confesses her feelings, what she wants to do and then begs Lando to come with her.

I don't think Lnado would agree to it first, too scared of the concept of change to acc listen to Oscar properly. I think she'd start avoiding Oscar, ignoring her. And Oscar would just be left to deal with the heartbreak, watch day in and day out as Lando's hair got more frizzy and unkempt, bc Lando can't even get herself to touch it without thinking of Oscar.

At the end, Oscar really does get the money. And right when she's abt to make her getaway she goes to visit Lando one last time, and thats when Lando finally realises, yh this is it, this is the only time I'll be able to get out, and if not then I'm never gonna see the literal love of my life ever again.

To conclude, they rent a small little apartment, sell their respective arts to have enough money to live comfortably, have very gay sex, and also Lando's hair never looks frizzy again.

[zellaspinna]

(NSFW)

may I propose Beta!Oscar who is obsessed with Alpha/Omega behaviour x Alpha/Omega!Lando who is pathetic and is constantly being tormented by Oscar’s curiosity

[sincerelylancelot]

40. things you interrupted me to say - liam/max

find the prompt list here!

Adrenaline clings to the edges of his skin, the residual push of G-forces leaving Liam twitchy.

The doctors have left him alone on the examination table to review his MRI, and the sterile white of the room does nothing to calm the restless energy coursing through his body.

He should be exhausted, but something about the crash has left him buzzing with excess energy. Perhaps it’s the lingering chemical reaction of fear, his body grateful just to be alive. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s pretty sure Max is going to murder him with his bare hands the moment he steps out of this room.

It’s a toss-up, and either way, it leaves Liam fidgeting on the table, desperate to bolt for the nearest door.

Eventually, the doctor returns and declares him all clear—a standard-issue miracle moment, he says, fully aware of the surprisingly high statistics of Formula One drivers walking away from 40G crashes. He pats Liam on the shoulder, sending him off with nothing worse than bruises to the sternum from his harness.

Despite his leftover adrenaline, Liam drags his feet as he heads back to the paddock to face the media. The Red Bull fireproofs hanging off his hips feel like a target painted on his back. Taking a man’s seat and then punting it into the wall—while simultaneously taking out the championship contender—isn’t exactly a strong case for being the team’s best number-two driver this season.

The interviewers are likely to go for his throat—assuming Max doesn’t beat them to it in the driver’s room first.

Liam skedaddles through the Red Bull garage, whipping past his mechanics, who look like they’re about to stop him and commiserate. The remains of his car are sitting in the middle of the garage, resembling a crumpled can more than a multimillion-dollar Formula One car. Across the way, Max’s car doesn’t look much better, but the man in question is nowhere to be found.

Liam isn’t sure whether to take that as a good sign or proof that imminent death is approaching. Skipping past the closed door embossed with the number 1, he slips through the one marked 30 and quickly shuts it behind him.

And promptly jumps out of his skin when he spots Max sitting on the massage table.

“Oh fuck,” Liam blurts, pressing a hand to his chest, his heart rabbiting against his ribs. “Max, hey man, look, about the car… and the race… and your DNF… The track was so fucking wet, and it just disappeared under me. I didn’t see you, and fuck, I’m so sorry—please don’t kill me. I still haven’t achieved so many of my dreams! Like, they’re bringing out a cars movie next month and—oomph.”

He’s cut off by Max pushing him up against the wall.

And kissing him. 

Which, statistically, wasn’t one of the possibilities Liam had been considering when it came to being manhandled by the world champion. He thought there’d be more shouting—or black eyes involved—but… this works too.

“Would you shut up?” Max says, his words lisping adorably. Not that Liam always thought it was adorable, but apparently getting kissed by someone could really broaden your perspective.

“Uh… sorry?” Liam squeaks, and Max rolls his eyes.

“I don’t care about the car.” Max’s hands are still fisted in the collar of Liam’s fireproofs, but one thumb brushes gently against his neck. “I thought… I thought, with the speed of the crash, maybe you were hurt. Nobody would tell me if you were okay.”

“I, uh, didn’t have my phone,” Liam stammers, his braincells dripping out one by one as Max steps closer, the heat of his body radiating between them.

Max sighs, tugging Liam forward again, kissing him with more intent this time. His plush lips slot against Liam’s, drawing a breathy noise from his throat. Max mutters idiot between kisses, and Liam can’t stop himself from giggling.

“You really thought I was going to do what?” Max pulls back, his brow furrowing. “Kill you for crashing?”

“You do know you’re, like… terrifying, right?”

Max’s only response is another firm kiss.

[slafastri28]

Rebranding bc Im gonna post for a week and then completely disappear bc college is insane 🤪

With that being said, PLEASE send me stuff in inbox to write about Hockey or F1 (bc Im really bored)!!!

...I better wake up tomorrow with a lot bc last time I did this for the NHL draft I had so many... (Still taking requests!)

[icherys]

Lets go unhinged with this picture please.

My prompt:

James having a spare minute not to be criticised and having a breath of the track to feel the f1 spirit again. Recharging his solar batteries before heading back to trenches.

Toto's approaching to tell him he's doing shit job, looking like shit and totally in full villian-manipulative mood to play James around and get Kimi in and etc etc...

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Straight to you | LN4

✨summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N, captivated by photos of her friend Lando Norris at a gala, sends a bold, flirtatious text that shifts their dynamic. Days later, Lando surprises her at her apartment, confessing his feelings and revealing he can't hold back anymore. 

✨pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

✨word count ━━━━━━━ 1.2k

Y/N stretched out on her couch, a glass of wine in hand as her phone screen illuminated her face. She had spent the past hour scrolling through social media, and her feed was flooded with pictures and videos from the FIA Gala in Rwanda.  And as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t stop scrolling through them.

Lando Norris was everywhere: standing proudly with his team, laughing with his peers, and posing for the cameras. But it was one photo in particular that had her captivated—Lando in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, grinning like he knew he owned the room.

She sighed, smiling softly to herself. Over the past year, Lando had gone from a casual acquaintance to someone she truly valued. They’d met through mutual friends at a gathering in London, and their banter had been immediate and effortless. They weren’t best friends by any means, but their connection had grown naturally over time.

He had even invited her to a few races over the past year. At first, she’d assumed it was just because she was someone fun to have around. But there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when she caught him looking at her in a way that made her wonder if there was more to it.

The truth was, she found him attractive. Too attractive, in fact. But it was a line she’d refused to cross, afraid of ruining the friendship they’d built.

As the picture of Lando lingered on her screen, she opened their chat.

Y/N: Congrats again, Lan! You were incredible this season. So proud of you.

She reread the text twice, debating if it sounded too sentimental. After all, they didn’t exchange heartfelt messages often. Usually, it was teasing, inside jokes, and the occasional check-in. But tonight, pride for him outweighed her hesitation, and she hit send.

The reply came quicker than she expected.

Lando: Thanks, Y/N. Means a lot coming from you.

She smiled, staring at the screen. She could stop there, but the wine in her system and the tuxedo picture still sitting in her camera roll gave her an unexpected burst of boldness.

Y/N: Also… you looked insanely hot at the gala. Just saying.

The moment she hit send, her eyes widened in horror. “Oh no,” she muttered, setting her wine down and pressing her hands to her cheeks, which were now burning.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Lando: Hot, huh? Didn’t know you thought of me like that.

She groaned, biting her lip as she typed back.

Y/N: Ignore that. I didn’t mean to send it.

Lando: Yeah, right. Totally accidental.

Y/N: Lando.

Lando: What? I’m just saying, I don’t mind. In fact, I think we should talk more about how hot you think I am.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she shook her head.

Y/N: You’re impossible.

Lando: And you’re blushing. Don’t lie.

She threw her phone onto the couch, but when it buzzed again, curiosity got the better of her.

Lando: For the record, I thought you looked pretty hot at Silverstone this year. Just saying.

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he flirting? No, he had to be joking—right?

Y/N: Are you flirting with me, Norris?

Lando: Maybe. Is it working?

Her stomach flipped, but she decided to match his energy.

Y/N: I don’t know. Maybe try harder next time.

Their playful exchange continued for another half hour, and while neither of them outright said what they were really thinking, the subtext was undeniable. By the time she went to bed, she couldn’t stop smiling, even if part of her wondered if they’d crossed a line.

Two days later, Y/N was in her tiny London apartment, halfway through cooking dinner, when a knock on the door startled her. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Wiping her hands on a towel, she walked to the door, pulling it open cautiously.

“Lando?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

He stood there, suitcase in one hand and a small smile on his face. He was dressed casually in a hoodie and joggers, his hair slightly messy from what she assumed was a long flight.

“Surprise,” he said, his tone light.

Her mouth opened, then closed as she tried to process what she was seeing. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to go to Monaco after the gala?”

“I was,” he admitted, stepping inside as she moved to let him in. “But I decided London sounded better.”

She closed the door behind him, her heart racing. “Why?”

His suitcase hit the floor with a thud as he turned to face her. The playful glint in his eyes softened, replaced by something more serious.

“Because you’re here,” he said simply.

Her heart stopped for a moment, and she struggled to find the right words. “Lando, I—”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he interrupted, taking a step closer. “That night, the things we said… it made me realize I’ve been holding back. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”

She blinked, her throat dry. “Holding back from what?”

“From this,” he said, his voice quieter now. “From telling you how I feel. I thought I could keep it casual, keep pretending we were just friends. But I can’t. Not when I know you feel something too.”

Her breath caught. “What makes you so sure I feel something?”

He grinned, leaning in just slightly. “You called me hot. Twice.”

She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I’m also here. For you. So tell me, Y/N… do you feel it too?”

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yes. I’ve felt it for a long time. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

His smile softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not going to lose me. If anything, you’re stuck with me now.”

Before she could overthink it, he closed the distance between them, cupping her face and pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was everything she’d dreamed of—soft yet urgent, full of all the feelings they’d both been holding back.

Her hands found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie. The kiss deepened as they moved toward the couch, their hands exploring, their whispered confessions tumbling out between kisses.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck.

“Probably not as long as I have,” she shot back, pulling him closer.

“Wait,” she murmured again against his mouth, pulling back slightly.

“What?” he asked, his voice husky.

“You came all the way to London for me?”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’d fly to the ends of the earth for you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she pulled him back into another kiss, this one even more passionate than the last.

That night, months of tension and longing melted away as they finally let themselves feel everything they’d been suppressing.

Hours later, they lay tangled together on the couch, her head resting on his chest as his fingers lazily traced circles on her arm. She looked up at him and smiled, their embrace a quiet testament to their closeness.

“I’m glad you came,” she said softly.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[ssentimentals]

okay ik i said it would be the last in my last request but i have two more in my mind so bare with me.... prompt 21 and 17 from the soft prompts with Charles Leclerc!! it just struck to me yk him making his own ice cream brand and all i feel like this will be superb

no pls i love your requests :(( and this is one is so thoughtful!! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

fluff prompt: 'you can call me whever you want, even if you don't have a reason to.' 'between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite.'

you knew that charles was on a shooting for his LEC ice cream, you knew. and it's an important thing, something he always wanted and you knew better than to distract him from the work... but. but you two haven't seen each other in almost two weeks and you just missed your boyfriend too much: clothes he left don't smell like him anymore, his text messages are not enough and you miss him, his presence, his voice, everything. there surely must be some breaks during the shooting, right? what if you get lucky and call right in the middle of one? biting your lower lip, you spend few minutes thinking this over until you finally give in, pressing call and holding your breath till a very familiar voice doesn't answer with: 'yes, my love?'

'charles,' you breathe out and it comes out whiny without you meaning it to.

'what's wrong?' charles immediately asks, urgency clear in his voice. he can't see your face and this whine did not sound like your usual cute-and-bratty whine. this one sounded more like i-am-sad whine and it gets him worried: 'are you okay, amour?'

you shake your head before remembering that he can't see you; with a sigh, you quickly respond to soothe his nerves: 'nothing-nothing. i'm sorry for calling!'

something rustles in the background and then there's a sound of door opening and closing. this time when charles speaks to you, he sounds much closer and louder: 'why are you sorry? you can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to. but everything is okay, yes?'

'yes, it is. sorry, babe, i just missed you and wanted to call,' you confess, pouting even if he can't see. 'i thought i'd get lucky and catch you during the break.'

'you are lucky, cause it's exactly break time,' charles says, smiling. it's a lie - you called right in the middle of the photoshoot and he asked everyone to wait but what you don't know can't hurt you.

'then just few minutes with me and you can go back to your favorite ice cream,' you decide, smiling. 'how is it going so far?'

charles smiles, leaning on the wall. your cuteness will one day be the death of him, but today is not that day. it warms his heart that you are this open about your feelings and can just call when you miss him - he should learn a thing or two from you in that regard. 'between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite,' he confesses to you secretly, smiling when he hears your laughter.

'sweet talker,' you accuse with fondness. 'you probably have to go, yeah? go, i don't want to keep everyone waiting. have fun, babe! i can't wait to see it all!'

'and here i thought you can't wait to see me,' charles teases. 'i'll be back home soon, okay? don't start dinner without me.'

'bring ice cream!' you shout and charles laughs, going back to the studio.

'only ice cream?'

'bring yourself too,' you mutter with a small smile. 'i love you.'

'i love you too, amour.' charles whispers back. 'see you soon.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[f1-stuff]

Jeddah GP '25 // Carlos got stuck in his cockpit post-race and a Stake mechanic came to his rescue 😭

[feketeribizli]

me and the bad bitch i pulled by being um. ummm. erm. uh oh

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (52/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: It’s been a long time coming - part two.

Warnings: 18+ (smut, unprotected sex, fingering, slight overstimulation, mutual masturbation, virginity loss, creampie, slight cockwarming), fluff, fluff, fluff

Word Count: 4.8k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: there you go. hope you love it. don't worry - this account is pregnancy free. feedback is appreciated!

The moment your lips meet, the world ceases to exist. It’s meant to be a tentative first kiss – cautious, testing – but the second your mouths touch, restrain shatters. A spark ignited into wildfire, consuming you whole and burning you down. 

His hands frame your face, fingers threading through your hair as he kisses you deeply, as if he is trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, the way you taste. You gasp against his lips as he tilts your head back to deepen the kiss.

His hands find your cheeks before sliding down to the nape of your neck, tilting your head up and to the side to deepen the kiss even further. His nose bumps against yours as his fingertips gently dig into your neck, pulling you closer. 

You clutch at his wrist, holding onto him as your body melts into his, completely at his mercy. He groans, a sound vibrating through you as his thumbs brush over the soft skin of your neck, his grip firm, possessive, before sliding back to your face, cradling your cheeks as if you’re something precious – something he has no intention of letting slip away. 

The way he kisses you is anything but gentle. It’s raw, demanding, hungry. 

„You’re driving me insane“, he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with a passion and greediness that matches yours. He gently sucks on your bottom lip, his tongue slowly caressing the seam. You pant quietly, opening your mouth – just enough for him to take advantage, his tongue teasing, coaxing, tasting. 

You respond immediately. The first slide of his tongue against yours is slow and sensual, sending shivers straight down your spine. And heat pooling low in your stomach. Charles moans low in his throat, his grip on your face tightening.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, nails pressing into the firm muscle as the kiss grows bolder, deeper. His tongue strokes over yours, tasting you, exploring, igniting a heat that makes your knees week. You whine softly into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, drinking you in like you’re something he’d been starving for. His kisses turn messier, more desperate, his breath coming in short, uneven pulls as as his hands leave your face, sliding down to grip your waist. 

He pulls you closer until there’s no space left between the both of you. Your breath hitches as he deepened the kiss, his tongue caressing yours, coaxing a soft moan from your lips. The heat between you is electric, a charge that buzzes along your skin, making you shiver despite the warmth radiating from his body, setting you on fire. 

You fist the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer, needing more as his fingers press into your soft curves, before wandering along your sides, over your back and back up to your face, tracing the curve of your jaw, down the line of your throat as if memorizing every inch of you. 

You match the intensity of his kiss, your tongue brushing against his, playful and daring. He leans further down, responding with another deep kiss, taking his time, letting you feel the full weight of his need. 

You lose yourslef in him – the slow, sensual dance of mouths and tongues, tasting, teasing, gasping between kisses, only to dive back in. Time blurred, the world outside forgotten. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him groan again – a sound you want to hear fort he rest of your life. Charles presses you harder against him, his body aligning with yours, the heat of him seeping through your dress as his tongue curled with yours, deep and slow, savoring every second. 

Somewhere between the kisses, between the soft moans and teasing bites, you begin moving – stumbling blindly, lips never parting, your bodies caught in an unbreakable pull. The both of you memorize every piece of furntiture in the apartment, dodging the table and door frames as you pull each other to the bedroom the both of you used to share. Once inside, your movements become uncoordinated as you fight to get closer to each other, fingers tugging at the clothes and teeth nipping at the skin.

His knees hit the edge of the bed first, and with a low growl, he pulls you with him, tumbling onto the soft sheets. His body immediately presses down on yours as he pushes you onto your back, caging you in, his lips never leaving yours. 

The air between the both of you crackles with heat, the kiss deep and desperate as your bodies press closer, if that’s even possible. You pull away, breathless, chest heaving. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, you see the same longing, the same ache reflected in his gaze that you’ve felt for the last two weeks. 

His words hang between them, the confession that has broken the dam of restraint a few minutes ago. 

I love you. 

Your lips meet again, urgent and desperate, as if the weeks of hidden feelings, of unsaid words, are finally being poured out in the kiss. His hands reach up to cup your face, thumb brushing your bottom lip before pulling you closer once more as your kiss deepens. You respond with equal intensity, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer, needing him in a way that leaves you breathless. 

His mouth moves from yours to your neck, kissing, biting, tasting. Your skin is hot, soft under his touch, and from the way he sucks on the spot where your pulse lies beneath it, he can’t get enough. You  arch into him, every inch of your body aching for him, for this. It feels like you’re meeting halfway, a place where everything that had been unspoken, all the tension of your friendship, finally collided into something neither of you could ever resist. 

He pauses for a moment, his lips lingering on your skin, and you feel his breath against your neck, his body hovering over yours. Charles pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, the intensity oft he moment not lost on either of you. His thumb brushes over your cheek as his gaze softens, hesitation flickering in the beautiful green, as if he’s silently asking for permission.

I love you. 

You swallow, your pulse hammering in your throat. You’re not sure what’s happening right now, what you’re doing, but you know one thing – you want this. You want him. There’s something about the way he looks at you – tender, patient, as though he’s waiting for you to decide, to be sure. And you are sure. Despite the butterflies swirling in your stomach, despite the nervest hat tighten in your chest, you nod. 

„I need you to say it“, he pleads, his breath hot on your face. 

Your hands slide to his neck, pulling his face closer, lips brushing against his. „Please, Charles“, you whisper. „I need you.“

His smile is soft, almost relieved, and then he kisses you again – slow, deep, as if he is trying to show you everything he feels without words. His hands move down to your waist, gently brushing the fabric of your dress. He tugs, lifting it, pausing to make sure you’re not pulling away. You hold his gaze, breath quickening and he seems to take that as all the encouragement he needs. 

Charles carefully pulls your dress up, bunching it around your waist before tugging it over your head, revealing your bare skin, and his lips follow immediately, kissing a trail from your neck to your collarbone. His hands move slowly, worshipfully over your body. He’s careful, gentle, as if he’s savouring every inch of you. You can feel his warmth, his strength, and the way his body presses against yours, but he doesn’t rush. He’s taking his time, letting you breathe, letting you feel every moment. 

He kisses you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding lower, grazing your hips. Your breath catches in your throat, hands moving instinctively to his chest, wanting to feel the heat of him, the muscles underneath his shirt. But you can barely focus on anything but him – the way his lips move against yours, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only thing that ever mattered to him. 

He pulls back again, his fingers brushing the seam of your panties. Charles pauses, looking at you with those dark green eyes, and for a moment, you feel a flash of vulnerability as his hand grabs yours and squeezes it twice. You’ve done way more than kissing, done things that friends don’t do – and for a split second you think about all the times he told you he loves you without words. 

The morning he came back from Italy, after he saved you from Raphael and you woke up next to him in the other apartment where he told you who he really is. 

When you talked about the possibility of your friendship becoming public because the both of you wanted to go furniture shopping with Kika and Pierre. 

When he told you that you’re the one he wants close to him, but that he was scared of anything happening to you and then when he squeezed your leg twice before you and Kika got out of the car. 

The evening where you burned Annikas things and he was finally free from the torment of the past relationship.

When you asked him if he was okay with cuddling you, even though you were just friends and he pulled you into his arms. 

The morning where you dry humped and Andrea called him for training, interrupting whatever you two had going on before it could even start fully. 

Right before you met his family, when you were insecure about his Maman not liking you and him saying that loving you is easier than you might think. 

When he asked for the promised back massage that turned into so much more, disguising the tension and attraction as a friendly gesture that turned into hot touches. 

After the game of Monopoly with his family, when he told you that he can’t lie next to you because it’s tearing him up inside that he can’t touch you. 

When you all sat around the table and Charlotte and Enzo revealed their engagement and you looked at Charles like he hung the stars for you. 

When you were on the way back to your apartment and talked about the way he should propose to you, when you thought it was just friends talking. 

The night before he left for training camp, after he made you moan and ate you out like he was starving. When he told you that he feels like you’re burned into his skin and engraved into his soul. 

All those times he loved you. 

I love you. 

Your gaze meets his as he slowly peels your panties off your legs, the movement deliberate, careful, as if he wants you to feel every touch. He pulls them off with the same tendernesss, kissing your legs as he does, his lips tracing a path along your skin. Every inch of you seems to hum under his fingers and his mouth, a combination of nerves and want that makes your breath hitch and your body tremble in waves you’ve never felt before. 

When he drops your panties to the floor, you’re left bare before him, exposed and vulnerable, even though it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked before. He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You feel both nervous and electrified, your heart pounding in your chest as you look up at him, unsure of what to do next, but somehow knowing that this is right. 

Charles kisses you again, this time more urgently, his body pressing into yours, his hands gently caressing your curves, worshipping every part of your body. You feel him move lower, his lips sucking along the line of your body, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you that make your legs quiver. 

His fingers brush over your chest, and you gasp, feeling the warmth of his hands on your heated skin. He cups you gently, as if he’s discovering your body for the first time, and you can’t help but melt against him, hands moving to his back, pulling him closer. 

„Is this okay?“, he whispers, lips on yours. 

„Yes“, you breathe, your voice more confident now, your body aching with need. You want him to touch you, to take you in a way you’ve never been taken before. And as he continues to explore, each kiss, each touch is a soft worship, a promise. 

I love you. 

You reach up, fingers tentatively tugging at his shirt, wanting – no, needing him closer, needing to feel his skin and weight on yours. Your breath is uneven, your body already trembling beneath him. „Please.“ Your voice is softer than intended, but thick with longing.

A slow, knowing smile touches his lips, his dark eyes flickering with something heated, something devastatingly intense. „I’m yours“, he whispers against your skin, before he pulled back just enough to grab the fabric. In one fluid, almost achingly slow motion, he pulls the shirt over his head and discards it on the floor next to your underwear. 

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him without a shirt, but right now, with the dim lighting casting shadows over him, he looks breathtaking. All sculpted muscle from training, the smooth skin, his body a perfect contrast of hard lines and warmth. The light emphasizes every ridge, every dip and every detail you’ve only ever stolen glances of before. Your fingers instinctively reach out, unable to stop yourself from tracing over the taut planes of his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tense slightly under your touch. 

His breath stutters, just for a second, before he exhales a soft, low groan – a sound that sends electricity down your spine. „Careful“, he murmurs, his voice now husky, rougher, as if your touch alone unravels something in him that he thought was long lost. 

You swallow hard, fingers continuing their slow exploration, emboldened by the way he reacts to you, the way his body leans into your touch like he can’t help himself. When your hands move to the waistband of his jeans, his fingers curl around your wrist, stopping you. 

When you look up at him, afraid that you took it a step to far, he smiles down at you. „Let me“, he says softly, his fingers working the button open with agonizing ease, his gaze never leaving yours. Like he needs to make sure that you want the same thing. The passion, the closeness, the intimacy.

You kiss his lips chastely, hands finding his cheeks as he breathes against your face, heavy and deep. When his fingers still, as if giving you a chance to change your mind, you look up at him, silently asking if he’s alright, not wanting to push him into something he’s not comfortable with. 

„I’m okay“, he whispers, barely able to find his voice before he leans down, lips brushing against yours once more – slow, teasing, possessive – before he eases his jeans down, the fabric sliding lower, revealing more of him, inch by delicious inch. His body, already overwhelming when clothed, was now utterly mesmerirzing, every movement deliberate, every motion filled with a kind of quiet confidence that makes your stomach tighten with need. 

His fingers slide under the seam of his briefs, tugging them down his legs before dropping them next to the bed. And then, he‘s there, bare and devine. His body presses into yours, his hardness against your thigh and his skin hot and smooth as his lips find yours.

„You’re perfect“, he growls, hand skimming along your body with tenderness, as if he’s discovering something he never wants to forget. Charles looks at you, gaze full of longing and an ache you know all too well, you know that he’s okay. That this is what he wants. 

You slowly reach down and carefully, almost hesitantly wrap your fingers around his length. He moans loudly, face dropping to your neck and taking deep breaths, teeth grazing along your pulse. 

„You“, he starts, his sentence interrupted by a groan as you gently move your hand, stroking his cock. „You’ll be the absolute death of me, mon amour.“ His hips buck into your hand, needing more of your touch. He feels heavy in your hand, soft and hard at the same time and when his hand absentmindedly wanders down your body and finds its place between your thighs, you’re done for. 

Your lips part as his fingers draw gentle circles on your clit, a sign he takes as an invitation to push his tongue back into your mouth. His kiss is hungry, greedy and hot as he sensually touches your pussy, fingers dipping into your heat to collect the wetness before it can drip onto the sheets. 

You swipe your thumb over his tip, feeling the drop of pre-cum on your finger and spreading it over his cock to make your movements softer and more pleasureable for him. It’s like he knows what you’re thinking, and so he unwraps your hand from him. „Touch yourself“, he orders, voice raw and raspy. He guides your hand to your heat, placing your fingers on your core before laying his fore- and middlefinger on yours, gently pushing them inside you. 

Your eyes roll back at the feeling. „Charles.“

„I know, mon amour“, he groans, making sure that your fingers are covered in your juices, before wrapping them back around his length, your wetness making it easier to move your hand up and down. „Oh, fuck.“

You feel everything – the warmth of his skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of hi schest, the way his body fits against yours like he’s always been meat to be there. His lips capture yours in a deep, slow kiss, showing you that he wanted you to feel just how much he wants you. 

When your hand starts to move faster, he quickly shakes his head. „You need – you need to stop.“

You lift your gaze, pulling your hand away. „Why? Did I do something wrong?“

Charles immediately shakes his head. „You’re absolutely perfect“, he reassures you and gently bites your lip. „Too perfect, actually. I need –„ He takes a deep breath. „If you keep going like this, this is going to be over before we really started.“

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, his words igniting another fire in your belly. You make him feel this way. Only you. 

„God, you’re so beautiful“, he murmurs against your lips, voice rough and filled with something unrestrained. His fingers return to their place on your pussy, coaxing a soft orgasm out of you with just a few touches and his mouth on yours. Your legs shake slightly from the pleasure he gives you, fingers curling around his bicep like you need him to ground you, to keep you on this earth even though you feel like you’re floating.

When you open your eyes again, you see him smiling down at you. „Please tell me if you want to stop.“

You nod, even though stopping is the last thing you could want in this moment. You lean up, gently biting his neck, elicting a low growl from his throat. „I want you.“

You can feel the goosebumps on his skin as he rolls on top of you, ellbows on either side of your head as he cages you in, his hips pressing against yours as he settles between your legs, his hardness resting between your bodies, smearing his pre-cum on your stomach.

„I never wanted anyone the way I want you“, he breathes, gaze catching yours as his fingers leisurely thread through your hair. „You’re the one for me, mon amour. In this world, and all the other small worlds.“ His leans down, lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. One of his hand reaches down, positioning himself where you need him the most, the tip of his cock rubbing achingly slow against your clit. 

„Charles“, you whisper. His touch is gentle, just like it always was, and when his eyes find yours once more, your heart is pounding in your chest. „I love you.“

Your words hit him off guard as he stares down at you. It’s the first time you said those words to him – and in your whole life you’ve never spoken truer words. A smile spreads on his face. „You love me.“ It doesn’t sound like a question, but like a fact. Something that’s been proven multiple times. 

Maybe it has been. In the way you helped him find his way back after his past relationship. In the way you make him laugh. In the way you treat him like he’s just your Charles. 

„I love you“, you repeat, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. 

He kisses them away, his hand grabbing yours and intertwining your fingers. He squeezes twice. „I love you, too.“

And then he slides home. 

Inch by inch he pushes further into you, gaze fixed on your face to make sure you’re okay, to not hurt you, but all he can see is the love you have for him and the pleasure he gives you. Your back arches towards him and you wrap your legs around his hips, wanting him closer as he slowly continues. 

You moan as he fills you up, the stretch a welcoming feeling. Your other hand, the one that’s not occupied by his own, wanders along his bare back, nails digging into his shoulders as he finally bottoms out, his pubic bone rubbing against your clit. He’s so big you feel like you could burst at the seams, the heels of your feet on the small of his back keep him right where you want him. 

„Fuck“, you sob, trying to get used to the fullness and stretch of him while his hand roams your body, cupping your breast, grabbing you wherever he can. He doesn’t need to ask if you’re okay, because the way you lift your hips tell him all he needs to know. 

He slowly withdraws himself and you whine at the loss of him. „Don’t whine“, he growls when only his tip is inside of your fluttering cunt. With one swift motion he pushes himself back into you, his cock buried deep in the warmth of your pussy as the both of you moan shamelessly. His lips find yours, and it’s all teeth and tongue. 

When he’s sure that you’re alright, that he’s not hurting you, he starts to move faster, hips slamming against yours in an overwhelming pace, hitting a spot inside you that only his fingers reached before. Fire courses through your veins as he lets go of your hands, his fingers grabbing your body wherever he can reach. His mouth latches onto your neck, sucking and kissing and biting the soft skin, leaving purple marks in their wake. 

Your nails dig into his back, scratching the muscles as he moves hard against you. „Charles“, you moan, tilting your head to give him better access to whatever spot of you his wants his mouth on. 

„I know, mon amour“, he groans, the heat and wetness of your pussy making him dizzy. „God, I love you.“

His fingers grab your thighs, pushing your legs further up to fuck you deeper, his thighs hitting the back of your legs. His breath is hot on your face as he claims you in the most primal way possible. 

He picks up the pace, his hips rocking against your with an increasing fervor. „You’re mine“, he moans lowly, his voice thick with desire. „I’ve wanted you for so long, needed you like a drowning man needs air. And now that I have you, I’m never letting you go again.“

You arch towards him, his possessive words sending shivers down your spine as he fills you repeatedly. You’re losing yourself in him, your mind clouded with pleasure and passion and love, body trembling with the effort of holding on, not wanting to let this moment pass. Your lips find his chest, teeth grazing over the sweaty muscles. „I’m yours“, you promise him. 

„And I’m yours“, he groans, his body slamming into yours with a strength and intensity you’ve never experienced before. When your pussy clenches around him, he looks down at you. „Come for me, mon amour“, he rasps. „Let me feel you come for me.“

His hand reaches down between your bodies, fingers drawing figure eights over your clit, making your legs twitch around his waist and fire pool in your belly, like a coil that’s about to snap. You cry out as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, nails digging into his back as tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks as he keeps slamming into you, prolonging your high for as long as possible. 

He presses your foreheads together and licks his lips as your body shakes underneath his weight, something you want to get used to so desperately. His cock nudges that sweet spot inside you again, the pleasure that consumed you already igniting another fire. 

„Please“, you beg him, hands tangling in his hair and pulling him down, lips crashing against his. You don’t know what you’re asking for. You just want him. Forever. 

„Come on“, he groans. „One more, baby. Just one more, okay?“ His fingers keep rubbing your bundle of nerves and you almost cry from overstimulation, but the way you moan and claw at his back show him that this is exactly what you want and need. 

You sob in his hold as he buries himself in you, again and again, relentlessly like giving you pleasure is what he was made for. You drown in him, in his touches and kisses and the way his cock strokes your tight walls in a way that only he can. Your pussy clenches once more, signaling him that you’re close again. 

„There you go“, Charles moans against your lips as you come undone once more, swallowing your sobs and whines with his mouth while his hand grabs yours again, fingers intertwining and squeezing twice. „I love you, mon amour. With all I am. I’m yours. Yours to love. Yours to keep. Yours to ruin“, he chokes out as he follows right after you, the hot wetness of your pussy and your lips on his pushing him over the edge as well. 

His hips still against yours as he fills you up, his cock twitching inside you as he pumps you full of his cum. Charles wraps his arms around you and you do the same, holding and clinging to each other, never wanting to let the other go. His breath is hot against your face as the both of you try to calm down, you let your legs drop back onto the bed while he lowers his head into your neck. 

„That was –", you start, not knowing what to say. 

„Perfect“, the Monegasque finishes your sentence. His arms tighten around you as he rolls the two of you over, pulling you on top of him without slipping out of you. You groan at the feeling, the way his hands gently roam over your back and massage your muscles.

You kiss his chest. „Is it always like this?“, you ask him. 

He kisses your forehead. „Like what?“ He notices that you don’t know what to answer, so he just presses you harder against him. „Only with the right person.“

You lift your head up slowly, looking at him with tired eyes. „I love you.“

His cock twitches at your words. „I love you, too.“ He leans forward, capturing your lips in a soft, sensual kiss. One of his hands threads through your hair as he plants his feet on the sheet. His hips buck up once, coaxing a moan out of you. 

„Charles“, you whine. 

„What? You don’t think I’m already done with you, do you?“ He sucks on your bottom lip, his free hand grabbing your hip and holding you in place as his already hard cock moves slowly inside you as he lazily fucks up into you. „You’re mine now, mon amour. And I plan on having you on all surfaces in our apartment.“ He chuckles darkly. „Thank God we have two of them.“

Happy fucking New Year.

[ln4bub]

Public sex with oscar, other people getting off on it without them knowing or like them getting caught or maybe even oscar cuming in yn secretly in front of everyone, just anything voyeur with oscar please 😭

People would never ever guess the things that you and Oscar got up to behind closed doors, and even sometimes open ones. Oscar always got off on the idea of people seeing what he does to you, showing them how well he knows your body. They never question it when his driver’s room door is conveniently left unlocked whilst you celebrate his race, or when he licks his fingers after his hand comes up from below the table at dinner.

Sure they notice how affectionate he is, kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you from behind. But they’ve never heard the filthy words he whispers to you about how easy it would be to lift up your little skirt and stuff you full. Or so you thought.

Lando is the first to notice, given the amount of time he spends around you both. He notices the way Oscar often has a hand on you, leaning in too often to whisper something discreetly in your ear. It was at dinner that the truth first came together. Oscar’s hand had been under the table for a while, him eating his dessert with just one hand. You however, hadn’t eaten an ounce of yours. When Lando looked over to you he noticed how flushed you were, how your eyelids fluttered and how your lips seemed more tempting you than the dessert.

His eyes trailed over you, following them down to where Oscar’s hand seemingly rested on your legs. From his vantage point he could see the way Oscar’s arm was flexing rhythmically, his hand moving ever so slightly. His eyes widened as he realised what his shy teammate was doing. He won’t lie and say the thought didn’t have him straining against his jeans slightly, especially when he spotted how calmly Oscar was watching him. Oscar winked at his teammate, a finger coming to his lips in a shh-ing motion. Lando swallowed dryly, nodding as he continued to glance all night, especially when Oscar licked his fingers clean.

Oscar had continued his public acts, often finding himself two fingers deep inside you as you struggled to stay quiet. But he loved the busy clubs, when the drivers booked a VIP booth and no one paid any attention to anything other than alcohol. After the end of his first season in Formula One he was itching to celebrate, aching to get you alone. Once Oscar realised this was unlikely to happen, he’s formed a plan. A plan that culminated in this moment, you on his lap in a club, whilst some other occupants of the grid watched on.

Lando again had been the first to notice, your cheeks flushing at Oscar’s words. “Imagine being stuffed full in this club, nobody would know how deep I am inside you baby.” He cooed in your ear, large hands sliding up and down your exposed legs. It took George and Fernando arriving with more shots for you to agree, firm in your decision that everyone else was preoccupied.

You wriggled in Oscar’s lap, finding a comfortable position that didn’t look too suspicious. You hovered over him as he slipped his member out of his jeans. He bit back a groan as you slid yourself down, your warm walls encasing him. “So fucking tight aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear, “Such a slut for me.” You whimper lightly, burying your head in his neck as you start a subtle grinding motion against him.

“That’s it, use me where anyone could see you. Do you like that idea?” Oscar coos, “That anyone here could look over and see how needy and desperate you are.” His hands squeeze your hips as he rolls you against him, groaning in your ear at the feeling if you wrapped around him. Oscar’s grateful for the booming music, grateful that no-one can hear you moaning for him. You hear Oscar chuckle lightly from your position, looking up at him in confusion. “Don’t stop sweetheart, but we have a small audience.” Oscar tells you, your heart stopping at his words.

He smirks at the way your walls clench around him before beckoning the audience member over. You hear someone sit next to the pair of you behind the table, Oscar greeting him with a nod. “Took you a while to notice this time mate.” Oscar says, your ears barely picking up the scoff of your new admirer.

“Keeping her hidden that’s why Oscar, you know I like to see her face. See what you do to her.” Lando’s voice causes a flush to overtake you, your hips grinding harder against Oscar. He groans once more, head tilting back at the feeling of you on top of him. “Oh she’s getting you good this time isn’t she?” Lando laughs, licking his lips as he watches you move.

“You have no idea,” Oscar smirks, “She’s an angel.” He tells his teammate. You whine into his neck as Oscar’s hand wraps in your hair. He tugs lightly, your face emerging from its hiding spot. “I want you to look at Lando baby, he likes your pretty little face.” Oscar mutters, stroking your cheek gently as he grinds his cock into you. Once you make eye contact with Lando your pace increases, joined now by Oscar’s thumb on your clit. Your moan of his name catches the attention of another driver, the warmth of his body emanating from behind you.

“Roped Lando into your little kink too have you?”

The American accent of Logan fills your ears, a soft smile spreading over your lips at the familiar audience member. “It’s hot isn’t it Lando? The way she’d do anything for him. You should see them behind closed doors, absolutely filthy.” Logan muses, hand resting on your hip as he helps you move over his best friend.

“You really should come watch Lando, she loves the extra pair of eyes.” Oscar tells his teammate, “You think she’s dirty now? Wait ‘til you see her on all fours with my dick in her mouth. It’s art.” You can’t help but moan at his words, squirming at the way the three men discuss you. It’s when Lando smiles at the thought of watching you both in private, nodding at Oscar’s proposal, that you tumble over the edge.

Your legs quake and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. Your walls clench around Oscar as he bites his lip, stifling the loud moan threatening to spill out. You attempt to hide your face once more but Lando holds your head still, studying your face as you cum for his teammate. Oscar grinds into you deeper, the rhythmic clenching driving him to his own orgasm. He shoots his load inside you, whimpering in sensitivity as Logan continues to move your hips.

The pair of you come down with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks, before eventually leaving the club. Trailed by Logan and Lando for a night you’ll never forget.