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allywthsr · 1 month

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GENDER REVEAL | (l.norris)

summary: the day has finally come, you get to know the gender of your baby

wordcount: 2.1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

notes: series part two has finally arrived

warnings: none! (I think)

Baby Series masterlist

You were twenty two weeks pregnant when the gynecologist told you, she could tell you the gender, she put a letter with the gender in an envelope and gave it to you. You wanted nothing more than to open the letter and read the gender, but you wanted it to be more exciting. So you gave the envelope to your best friend, she wanted to plan a big gender reveal / babyshower for you. Lando and you wanted the babyshower and gender reveal in one celebration, the schedule was tight and Lando couldn’t just take a week off from work.

Lando’s parents said the whole party could happen on their property, and you were thankful for that, your apartment never would’ve fit every single one coming, and renting something in Monaco was almost impossible. The England weather was often rubbish, but you prayed for sunshine and warm temperatures for the beginning of August, when the party was happening, if it was raining, the celebration could easily be moved inside.

The days leading up to the big day were nerve wrecking, Lando talked to his child every day, giving your belly kisses and you couldn’t wait to get to know the gender, and finalize everything.

The days leading up to the big day were nerve wrecking, Lando talked to his child every day, giving your belly kisses and you couldn’t wait to get to know the gender, and finalize everything. Two days before the big day, you received last minutes information from your best friend, what she had planned and what you should wear. Lando was bouncing around, he couldn’t wait for the reveal, just like the rest of the family and friends, every weekend the mechanics would ask him, if he knew more than the last time, they saw him, them being disappointed when he didn’t, so they were even more excited when the invite for the gender reveal came. Will and José bought pink and blue shirts, specifically for this day, just so they could follow the invite and wear something in the color they think the gender of the baby would be, like little kids they sent Lando a picture of them going shopping for the shirts.

And today it was finally happening, today you would know the gender of your baby, with butterflies you woke up and Lando brought you a toast with your favorite topping, you needed to eat something immediately after waking up, or you would hang with your head over the toilet. Lando went for a run in the forrest that stood around his family’s property, and you got up and did your morning routine in the bathroom, since being pregnant, your skin was almost perfect, you barely had to anything for it. You read on some dodgy website, that good skin means you’re pregnant with a baby boy, you couldn’t wait for later and finally know the gender. Of course the gender wouldn’t change anything, you would love the baby either way, if boy or girl, but you could finally think about names and stop calling the baby ‘the baby’, Lando was certain it was a boy, and always said he or him, while you didn’t want to get your hopes up, you were also hoping for a boy. Just the thought of having a mini Lando running around, made your heart melt, sure, Lando with Mila made you cry and a baby girl would be perfect for him to care and love, but you wanted a boy first, he could take care of his baby sister later.

You went downstairs to the kitchen where Cisca was sitting and drinking a tea, you greeted her with a smile and asked her how she was feeling. She stood up and ushered you to sit on her chair, with a small caress over your round belly, she made you a quick breakfast, not listening to your complaints about how you can make your own breakfast, and she should enjoy her tea. She was a full on mother, no matter to whom, she made you a small breakfast, and it automatically tasted better because she did it. When Lando came in, he kissed his mother’s cheek and you on your mouth, kissing your belly while you put your hand on his cheek. He smiled at you and kissed you on the head, „“I’m going to shower and then I’ll come back, yeah?“, you nodded and smiled back. He ran up the stairs, and you could hear the door slam, with a chuckle, Cisca sat next to you again, “I’m so excited for later, can’t wait to see what gender my grandbaby has.“

“Me too! In the end its important that he or she is healthy, but I hope for a boy.“

“We do too! Adam wants a little prince to spoil, do the racing with him, having him on his lap while mowing the grass.“

“Don’t get me too excited for a boy, Cisca“, you chuckled, but you knew you would be just as happy if a little girl was growing in you.

After breakfast, Lando came downstairs again and shortly after, the decorators came, they prepared everything your best friends ordered. It was supposed a rather small and intimate party, but by the time you and Lando made a list for who would need to be invited, you were already at fifty people. Almost the whole grid and their girlfriends were invited, plus Carlos’s parents and siblings, people like Zak, Andrea and Andreas couldn’t be missed. Obviously Lando’s family, your family, friends, and important people in your life got an invitation.

After a small nap on the couch with Lando, you went outside to check out the decorations, thankfully the weather was supposed to be wonderful, sunshine over sunshine. There was a huge balloon wall to take pictures in front of, a big seating area with tables, to eat, drink and fill out the forms your best friend organized, the buffet would be in the kitchen, to not have everything melt in the sun and the actual revealing part would be done in the back of the backyard, where no neighbor could see what was happening. You weren’t a rockstar, nobody filmed yours and Lando’s every step of the way, and you didn’t think the neighbors would share anything to the public before you did, but you could never be too careful. Your best friend let you decide on how to reveal the gender, and you settled on the basic smoke and confetti method, it was easy, but it looked amazing.

After the caters arrived and set up the buffet, you and Lando checked on it, trying little cookies and snacks. Cisca came in shortly after Lando filled his mouth with a blue icing covered sugar cookie, and scolded him for it, gently slapping the back of his head.

The first guests arrived a bit early, your family rung the doorbell and you jumped from your chair, walking quickly to the door, you haven’t seen your family for what felt like ages, with you living in Monaco and traveling constantly, you couldn’t visit your home as much as you‘d like, even Lando rarely got to see his mother and siblings, with his father being at every race, you saw him at the race weekends.

You tightly squeezed your mother and father, Lando followed you suit, embracing them in a tight hug, your siblings also didn’t get left out.

Your mother gave you a bouquet after she caressed your swollen tummy, clearly amazed at how big you‘ve gotten. The flowers were placed in a vase and Lando’s parents welcomed yours, they haven’t seen each other since the last Christmas, and the mothers immediately settled in the kitchen to talk, while the dads went out in to the garden to eye the decorations and talk about football and f1.

You and Lando went upstairs together, changing into a more party outfit. You put on a baby blue flowy dress, that settled nicely on your stomach, not making you look like a whale, but like a healthy pregnant woman. Lando also changed into a baby blue top and some beige pants, you both looked stunning, Lando couldn’t resist but to take what felt like a thousand pictures of you on your own or together in the mirror.

You settled on the couch, to wait for the first guests to arrive, and shortly after, the doorbell rung. You greeted Carlos and Rebecca and took their gift bag to the little table that was placed in the living room.

The more time passed, the more people arrived, you tried to keep it small, but with people knowing that many people, it was hard to decide what people should be left out, you simply couldn’t. Family, friends, and colleagues were standing around the garden, chatting, drinking, and eating to pass the time until the big reveal.

When everyone was there, you greeted them all again and held a little speech, thanking everyone for coming and for the gifts, explaining what was planned for the afternoon and where to find the food.

Your best friend organized a few little extras before it, every guest could write a small letter to the baby, that it could read once he or she was old enough, fill out a form and guess what gender, date and time it would be born, weight, height and many more things. The person that is most accurate, is going to win a small prize, you didn’t know what yet, but a trip to Monaco was a good idea.

On a small table there were some babygrows, and some clothing paint. If guests wanted to, they could paint on the babygrow and later on your child could wear it, it’s also just to have a sweet memory and keep the guests entertained.

You were chatting with your best friend in the kitchen, snacking on some pink colored cookies, from where you were standing you saw people fill out the forms, drawing on the babygrow or taking pictures in front of the picture wall. The professional photographer you hired for this day, was patient and took her time for everyone, who wanted pictures. You already had your little photoshoot, where every guest took a picture with you and Lando, the parents to be.

After almost two hours of people arriving and people filling out forms, or designing babygrows, it was time for the big reveal. Your best friend announced that it was time for everyone to walk to the back of the backyard and half-circle around you and Lando.

Lando stood next to you, holding you in his arms, and stroking your side, you both were shaking with nerves, good nerves, it was exciting to finally be sure what gender your baby has.

Your best friend gave you a smoke cannon, and Lando a confetti cannon, you both looked at each other, you could see how nervous he was, Lando gave you one last kiss and a stroke over your belly, when the crowd started counting down from ten, with every number passing, you felt the sparks in your belly explode, why were they counting that slowly?

When the one was called, Lando and you clasped the triggers of the cannons tighter and twisted the bottom, you squeezed your eyes shut, and only opened them when everybody was erupting with screams.

You opened your eyes and blue smoke surrounded you, with a gasp and tears threatening to spill, you turned to Lando and opened your arms, squeezing him tight, before he pressed his lips to yours and enjoyed the moment, caressing your belly.

“A boy! Y/N, a boy. We have a mini Lando.“

He kissed your cheek, before Max Fewtrell came over and hugged the two of you, more guests came over and congratulated you, you enjoyed each and every hug you received, thanking the person for being there.

Lando and you took a quiet minute inside the house, just hugging and talking about your baby, Lando got his boy, the one he wanted so badly. Now he could show him the world of karting, when he was old enough to get inside one. The room could be finalized, you could buy the first babygrow he would wear when he was born, a name could be chosen, and so much more.

The rest of the evening was spent talking, laughing and enjoying the time with your friends and families, you held your tummy, knowing a little boy would keep you up your toes in a few months, but you weren’t alone, you had Lando by your side, helping you with whatever it is you would need.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #dad!lando norris #lando x you

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heartysworld · 2 months

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Riding into love // LN4

Lando Norris x Reader

W.C.:2k

The one time Lando turned his niece's horse riding lesson into a speed dating event.

MASTERLIST

It was a bright Saturday morning when Lando Norris found himself in front of his car, waiting for his niece Mila to grab her riding gear. His brother Oliver had entrusted Lando with taking Mila to her horse-riding lessons for the day, and Lando was eager to spend some quality time with his favorite little girl.

“Uncle Lando, I’m ready!” Mila called out as she bounded down the steps, dressed in her attire, her riding helmet clutched under her arm and a huge smile on her face.

“Alright, let’s go, champ,” Lando replied, ruffling her hair. He opened the door to the car, and Mila hopped in, bubbling with excitement.

The drive to the riding stables was filled with Mila’s chatter about her friends, her horse, and everything she loved about riding. Lando listened attentively, enjoying her enthusiasm and making a mental note to remember all the little details she shared.

When they arrived at the stables, Mila quickly spotted her best friend, your younfer sister, Lily. You were busy helping Lily with her helmet when Lando and Mila approached.

“Hi, Lily! Hi, Y/N!” Mila greeted them cheerfully.

“Hey, Mila! Hi, Mr. Norris,” Lily replied politely.

Lando smiled and corrected her, “Please, call me Lando.”

You looked up and offered a friendly smile. “Nice to see you again, Lando. Thanks for bringing Mila today.”

“No problem at all. She’s been telling me all about how much she loves horse riding on our way here.” Lando replied, his eyes briefly meeting yours.

Mila and Lily quickly ran off to get their horses ready, leaving you and Lando standing by the fence. There was a moment of silence before Lando decided to break the ice.

“So, how long have you been coming here with Lily?” Lando asked.

You looked over at him and replied, “A few years now. Lily started when she was six, and she’s been hooked ever since. What about Mila?

“Just over a year. She’s obsessed with it,” Lando said, chuckling. “She even told me she wants to be a professional rider one day.”

You laughed. “Sounds like Lily. It’s great to see them so passionate about something, though.”

Lando nodded in agreement, watching as Mila and Lily mounted their horses. “Yeah, it is. It’s nice to see them happy.”

A comfortable silence settled between them as they watched the girls begin their lesson. You caught Lando glancing at you occasionally, admiring your smile and the way you interacted with Lily and the other kids. There was something about you that he found incredibly attractive.

After a while, you turned to him. “So, Lando, do you ride?”

“Me? Not really. I mean, I’ve tried it a couple of times, but I’m more comfortable with four wheels under me,” Lando joked.

You laughed. “I figured as much. It’s a different kind of thrill, that’s for sure.”

Lando smiled, feeling a bit more confident. “Maybe you could give me some tips sometime. You know, if you’re free.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. “Are you asking me out, Lando Norris?”

Lando chuckled, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Maybe I am. Would you say yes if I did?”

“Depends on where you’re planning to take me.” You teased.

“How about dinner? Somewhere nice, where we can talk without the sound of engines or horse hooves,” Lando suggested.

You considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, dinner sounds good.”

Lando grinned. “Great. How about tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow works. I’ll give you my number so you can text me the details,” You said, pulling out your phone.

The two of you exchanged numbers, and as the lesson ended, Lando couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement. He hadn’t expected to score a date while taking his niece to her riding lesson, but he wasn’t complaining.

One date after another, you fount yourself infatuated with Lando and his presence. It was no surprise to you when he asked you to be his girlfriend on the fourth date. Ever since then, he spent every free moment either with you or coming up with arrangements on how to take you with him to as many places as possible.

Several months into your relationship, Lando decided it was time for you to meet his family at one of their family dinners. Your relationship had grown serious, and he wanted you to feel like a part of his life, both on and off the track.

The evening of the gathering, you arrived at Lando’s family home, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Lando greeted you with a kiss and led you inside, where his family welcomed you warmly. Oliver and his wife, Savannah, couldn’t help but joke about Lando’s knack for turning a simple outing into a romantic escapade.

“The one time we leave my brother take Mila to a riding lesson and he managesto score a date. How does that happen?” Oliver teased, nudging his brother playfully.

Lando laughed, wrapping an arm around you. “What can I say? I’ve got skills.” He said, before leaving a soft kiss on the side of your head.

Savannah smiled warmly at you. “We’re just glad to see him so happy. He’s been talking about you non-stop for the past couple of months.”

You blushed, feeling the warmth of their acceptance. The evening was filled with laughter, stories, and delicious food. You felt at ease with Lando’s family, and it was clear how much they cared for him.

As the night drew to a close, you and Lando found a quiet moment together on the porch. The stars were twinkling above, and the soft hum of conversation filled the air from inside the house.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, resting your head on Lando’s shoulder. “Your family is wonderful.”

Lando pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m glad you liked them. They already adore you.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of belonging. “I adore them too.”

Lando looked at you, his eyes filled with love. “You’ve made my life so much better, baby. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You leaned in and kissed him, your heart swelling with affection. “I couldn't have said it better, Lan.”

As the months went by, you and Lando started making mkre and more appearances at the paddock as a couple. The media and fans quickly noticed how much more laid-back and happy Lando seemed, both on and off the track. It didn’t take long for everyone to connect his newfound ease to your presence in his life.

“Looks like someone’s in love,” one of the reporters teased during an interview.

Lando just smiled, glancing over at you as you stood a few feet away from him. “I guess you could say that.

The journey from a horse-riding lesson to a loving relationship had been unexpected but beautiful. You had found each other in the most unlikely of places, and now, you were each other’s biggest supporters, you couldn't ask for a better unexpected match.

MASTERLIST

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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“Awe bubba, you’re the best little golfer I know babe”, Leah Williamson

in the same universe as legacy l.williamson II little golfer

"can i come out yet?" you yelled out with a sigh, banished to the bedroom while leah and mila got up to god knows what. with there being no games this weekend leah had decreed sunday was family day and that she would organise everything, so you had no idea what the three of you would be doing.

"yes!"

you huffed in relief at the sound of your wifes voice, pulling yourself off the bed and opening the door. "oh my god." you exhaled, suddenly getting a sneaky suspicion you could work out what it was leah had planned for the day.

"i look like mummy!" mila cheered bouncing eagerly on the balls of her feet as leah grinned proudly, hands on her hips clearly pleased with herself. "aw bubba, you're the best little golfer i know babe." your wife cooed encouragingly, fixing the cap on your daughters head slightly.

"when on earth did you buy her those?" you sighed, your now four year old daughter dressed up exactly like your wife was, wearing matching plaid pants, white button up and bowlers cap as your wife, clearly dressed up for a day on the green.

"when you were away with aunty steffy!" mila answered, which was a few weeks ago now. "you took her to the club with you? leah she's four!" you shook your head in disbelief.

"i've been gettin lessons! got my own clubs too." mila puffed her chest out proudly as leah's grin grew even wider. "of course you do. so is that what this grand family day out is then? an excuse to drag me to the golf club?" you deadpanned, leah shooing mila off to grab her backpack from her room.

"baby." leah started toward you with a charming smile as you shook your head, arms crossed and staring her down. "come on. you know you love it when she dresses up like a little adult, and she's got a good swing on her! is it so wrong of me to want to pass on my golfing prowess to my little legacy?" your wife reasoned, arriving in front of you with a pout.

"no. but why do i have to be dragged into it, lee i love you very much but i hate golf!" you whined throwing your head back with a groan. "for the sake of our marriage i'm going to pretend i didn't hear that." leah tutted with a shake of her head.

"theres an outfit all laid out for you in the spare room. the sun is shining, mila slept through the entire night in her own bed, we're going to have a perfect little family day out my girl. you'll see!"

only, you didn't see.

you sat with a frown etched into your features, sulking heavily as you watched on as leah would take the long drives, allowing your daughter to swing once you got a little closer to the hole.

you thought that the silver lining might be driving the golf cart, but your wife wouldn't even allow that insisting on being the chauffeur for the day as well.

"stop bein so stroppy. you're a bad influence!" leah chuckled as you scoffed, your retort cut off by her soft lips pressing against yours.

"yuck! no kissin!" a tiny body wedged themselves between you, pushing on leahs legs and sending her backward as mila climbed up and onto your lap.

"my mama, no kissin her!" mila warned your wife, wagging a finger at her and brightening your mood at the shock written across leah's face.

"your mama? kid thats my wife! she was that before you were born." leah poked at mila who stuck her tongue out and shrugged, arms latched tightly around your neck.

"she loves me more." mila grinned cheekily as leah gasped and dropped her golf club, falling to her knees. "oh my god...you've done it. mila you've broke my heart, oh it hurts!" leah wailed dramatically rolling about in the grass as you rolled your eyes and mila giggled.

"no being silly on the golf course!" mila lectured echoing leah's own words back as you snickered and covered your laugh with your hand. "don't you even care you broke my heart! thats not silly!" leah cried out, falling to her back again with a yell of pain.

"your wife is silly." mila sighed, patting your cheek with her small hand as you made no attempt to hide your laughter this time. "mila!" leah huffed, getting up to her feet and brushing the dirt off her.

"right fine then tiger woods. if i'm so silly watch this!" leah picked her driver back up, striding over and teeing up her ball, readying her stance. "don't miss!" you yelled right as she wound up to swung, indeed resulting in an air swing and mila's giggles.

"no noise in the crowd please, course etiquette." leah warned but you grinned at the clench in her jaw. "air swing!" you yelled again at the same time, leah just clipping the ball and only sending it about fifty meters forward as she exhaled.

"shit!" she swore, kicking the grass and pausing for a moment, mila thankfully too preoccupied chasing a bird to notice. "leah! language." you hissed nodding behind you as the blonde waved you off, stomping back to the cart.

"lets go." leah scooped your daughter up, mila squealing and kicking her legs happily as leah carried her over by the back of her top, dropping her in your lap.

"air swing. i'll show you an air swing." leah muttered under her breath, cheeks flushed red as you smiled, holding your daughter tightly as leah raced forward in the car and mila cheered.

"hey, lee babe calm down. this is a family day, not your regular nine holes with the lads." you let mila race off after another bird and stopped leah from leaving.

"stop winding me up then!" the blonde whined with a scowl, an apology mumbled against her lips for a second which seemed to calm her as she pulled away and took a deep breath.

"okay. come on mila, your turn!" leah called out, your daughter gasping happily and sprinting back over as leah helped her pick out her club.

"now remember. legs planted, feet outward, eye on the ball." leah coached helping the girl get into position and teeing up a ball for her. "go baby!" you cheered happily, clapping for her as leah took a step back and gestured for your daughter to go.

only after three air swings did you really get a glimpse into your wifes little legacy.

"shit!" mila swore as she missed again, kicking the grass and throwing her club down with a huff, crossing her arms and furrowing her eyebrows, a near mirror to your wifes own poor losing behaviour.

leah's eyes met yours in both worry and shock, though seeing the slight amusement on your face and no real trace of anger she relaxed a little. "hey, come here you." the blonde tugged on the back of your daughters top and squatted down.

"you're doing so so good bubba, way better than any other four year old i know. but we have to learn how to lose gracefully, mummy is still learning that too okay?" leah spoke softly as mila hugged her tightly with a nod.

"hey! are you giggling?" leah gasped as mila pulled away and grinned. "only joking! just being like you." mila wiggled happily, leah watching on stunned as the four year old marched back off and picked up her club, swinging and collecting the ball easily sending it off with a cheer, sprinting off after it with her club in hand as leah looked at you in disbelief and you smirked.

"well congratulations are in order babe, she's exactly like you."

#woso #woso community #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #woso imagine

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starkwlkr · 1 year

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Could we have a fic where Charles misses Ruby because she's at a sleepover and all he wants to do is go and get her

girls just wanna have fun | charles leclerc

girl dad charles back at it again 🫶🏼

When Ruby got home from school, she immediately started packing a bag. Her best friend, Mila, was having a slumber party and Mila had invited Ruby. Charles was home since F1 had no upcoming race so he was confused when Ruby didn’t give him his kiss on the cheek she usually gives him when he’s home. The little girl ran straight to her bedroom and started packing.

Y/n entered their home with the stroller, Baby Mathéo was inside peacefully sleeping. Charles greeted his wife and placed a kiss on her lips.

“What’s wrong with our daughter?” He asked.

“She’s been invited to her first sleepover. You remember her best friend Mila? She’s having her classmates over at her house and Ruby got invited.” Y/n replied, carefully taking Mathéo out of his stroller.

“So she’s going to be sleeping at someone else’s house?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much how a sleepover works.” Y/n nodded.

“Let me rephrase that. She’s going to be sleeping in a house that isn’t ours or maman’s house or Lorenzo’s. Amour, she’s never been separated from us for a day.” Charles explained as he took Mathéo from Y/n’s arms.

“You travel all the time, Charles, that’s your job.”

“You know what I mean. We won’t be there with her. Are you sure she’s going to make it through the night? She should just here with us.” When Ruby was two, she spent three months sleeping in Y/n and Charles’ bed because she didn’t want to be away from them.

“I talked to Ruby on the way here and she said she’s going to okay. Charles, she’s growing up. Next thing you know, she’s going to be ditching us for her friends on a trip to Spain!” Y/n teased, but saw how Charles was upset about his little girl leaving for the night. “Sweetheart, she’s going to be fine. We know Mila’s parents so we know she’s in good hands. Plus, we won’t be kid free. We still have our little Théo here.” Y/n chuckled as Thèo reached for his mother.

“But if our phones ring just once-”

“I know, Charles, you’re going to go pick her up.”

“I’m ready!” Ruby ran to the front door dragging her barbie bag that had clothes falling out.

“See? Our baby is excited! Ruby, come here so mama can fix your clothes.” Y/n called out to the excited four year old.

All Charles could do was watch his daughter leave the house. He was happy that at least she had friends who were kind enough to invite her over for sleepovers, but he was worried. Was he overreacting? He didn’t think so.

“Do you want to come with us?” Y/n asked Charles.

Charles looked down at the baby in his arms and shook his head. “You two go ahead. Théo and I are going to watch some cartoons.”

Ruby ran back to her papa and gave him a hug. “I love you, papa.” She smiled at him then gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you more, Ruby Jules. Be good and sleep on time.” Charles said to the girl.

After saying goodbye to her baby brother, Ruby and her mother were on their way to the sleepover. Back home, Charles and Théo were too busy having a sleepover of their own. Wel, trying to since Théo was slowly falling asleep again.

After Y/n arrived back home, she saw Charles sleeping on the sofa with Baby Mathéo on his chest. She approached her husband and son then placed a baby blanket over the little boy.

“Y/n?” Charles mumbled, his eyes fluttering open.

“Hey, everything okay?” She ran a hand thought his hair.

“I’m okay.” Charles replied.

By dinner time, Charles’ nerves were calm. Mila’s mom had a group chat with all the moms of the girls that attended the sleepover and regularly sent pictures of what the girls were doing.

“Look, they’re watching Tangled.” Y/n showed the picture to Charles.

Immediately Charles noticed the pajamas that Ruby was wearing. While every other little girl was wearing princess or unicorn pajamas, Ruby was wearing her red Ferrari pajamas. It was hard to miss her since she was the only one wearing red.

After cleaning up the dinner table and putting Mathéo to sleep, Y/n and Charles we’re getting ready for their sleep. As Charles entered the bathroom to brush his teeth, he heard Y/n’s phone ring. He didn’t think much of it so he continued with his nightly routine.

“Charles, sweetheart, it’s for you.” Y/n entered the bathroom with her phone in hand. “It’s Ruby.”

Charles dropped his toothbrush and quickly rinsed his mouth. He snatched the phone from his wife’s hands and called out Ruby’s name thinking she was scared and wanted to come home.

“Hi papa! I told Mila’s maman that I wanted to say goodnight to you so goodnight and I miss you and I love you and I miss you more.” She said through giggles.

Charles chuckled. “I miss you too, Ruby Jules. Goodnight, mon ange. I will pick you up in the morning.”

“Okay, papa. You can’t see right now, but I’m sending you kisses. I’m sending you lots of kisses!”

“No, I can see them. I see all of the kisses you’re sending me. Can you see mine? They’re kisses just for you.” Charles replied.

“I think I see them.” Ruby laughed.

“It’s getting late now, bébé. Sleep well and you can tell me all about your day tomorrow.” Charles told the girl.

“Okay, tell Baby Théo that I love him and miss him and that I want to hug him and goodnight and-”

“Okay, okay, I will. Goodnight, Ruby Jules.” Charles interrupted her knowing that if he didn’t, the conversation would go on all night.

Charles ended the call and gave Y/n her phone back. “I miss my little girl.” He frowned.

“I know, but you said it yourself, you’re going to pick her up in the morning. It’s not going to be a whole week, babe.”

All night, Charles looked at the clock on his nightstand and wondered if Ruby was also awake. There was a time when Ruby couldn’t sleep at night so Charles had ordered glow in the dark stars and stuck them on her bedroom ceiling so when she couldn’t sleep, she could count the stars. But that only worked a couple times since Ruby would run to her parent’s room and sleep in between them.

Charles ordered more glow in the dark stars and stuck them on their ceiling so Ruby could also count the stars in her maman and papa’s bedroom.

So that’s what Charles was doing in the middle of the night. He counted each star, imagining that Ruby was beside him trying to hold in her laughter when Charles would purposefully miss a few numbers.

“Mon amour? Are you awake?” Charles whispered to Y/n. She didn’t respond, all Charles could hear was her breathing.

Eventually Charles forced himself to fall asleep. He couldn’t wait until the morning to see his little girl.

Before his alarm went off, he was already awake and ready to pick up Ruby. Y/n had woken up half an hour after Charles’ alarm. When she walked into the kitchen, she saw Charles feeding Mathéo, who were both dressed and ready to go.

“Good morning my loves.” Y/n gave kisses to both of her boys.

“Théo and I are ready to pick up Ruby. I was thinking that we could spend the day as a family. We could go see a movie or to the park?” Charles said as Mathéo reached for his mother.

“That would be nice.”

After eating breakfast, the family of three were on their way to pick up Ruby from Mila’s house. Charles parked in the driveway and saw a couple cars parked as well. “I can wait with Théo here.” Y/n said to Charles.

“Are you sure?” Charles asked.

Y/n nodded. “You did say you were going to pick her up.” She chuckled.

Charles then exited his car and walked up to the front door. He knocked three times and waited. Seconds later, the door was opened by Mila’s father.

“Hi, I’m Mila’s father.” He introduced himself.

“I’m-” before he could finish introducing himself, Ruby screamed and ran towards him.

“Papa!” The girl ran into Charles’ arms and kissed him on the cheek multiple times. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Ruby Jules.” Charles couldn’t bring himself to put his little girl on the ground so he held her tightly in his arms.

“So you’re the Ferrari driver? Ruby would not stop talking about her papa’s fast car.” Mila father said with a smile.

“The pajamas gave it away.” Charles added.

“Papa, guess what?!” Ruby asked.

“What is it?”

“Next week, I’m having my own sleepover and I invited everyone! They said they would come! We can all sleep in my room!”

Charles laughed nervously. “You invited everyone?”

“Yeah, and there was this boy in my class that said your car isn’t fast enough so I didn’t invite him,” Ruby said. “But then he said he would be a Ferrari fan if I invited him.”

“Ruby, we have to be nice to everyone even if they’re not a Ferrari fan.” Charles said.

Mila’s dad chuckled. “I’m more of a Red Bull fan myself, but-”

Charles interrupted. “I would love to stay and talk but my wife and son are waiting. Ruby, do you have everything with you?”

#baby leclerc series #anon #inbox <3 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #dad!charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine

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chrisevansonly · 1 year

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐦 & 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐭2 | 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨

✯social media au

✯daniel ricciardo x female reader

✯the nickname mom and dad finally has some ‘true’ meaning behind it 🫶🏻

✯ah this was a request so thank you so much!! this was very fun and cute to write, i hope you enjoy<3

part 1 part 3

ynricciardo

liked by landonorris, lilyhme, danielricciardo and 1M others

mom and dad really are about to become mom and dad, baby ricciardo coming soon🤍

tagged danielricciardo

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username IM SOBBING

username im so happy for my parents 😭

username someone check on lando

lilyhme congratulations you two!! can’t wait to meet them!❤️

landonorris i need 4-5 business days to recover😭

>ynricciardo me too, wanna come watch cheesy movies with me🥹

>landonorris on my way 🏃🏻

username lando and y/n kill me😭

danielricciardo i love you, so excited to have a little terror around!!!!

>ynricciardo if they are a terror, that’s from you babe😚

ynricciardo added to their story!

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danielricciardo

liked by ynricciardo, redbullracing, landonorris and 2M others

that is one hot mama, and she’s all mine😁😁

tagged ynricciardo

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username HOT MAMA😮‍💨😮‍💨

username oh she looks so beautiful!!!

username look at that bump!

redbullracing baby danny incoming!!!

>ynricciardo ❤️❤️

landonorris what size is baby ricc this week mom?

>ynricciardo they are about the size of an acorn squash apparently😂

>username lando calling y/n mom😭

ynricciardo

liked by danielricciardo, scottyjames31, francisca.cgomes and 989,000 others

this is life recently, all baby wants is gelato right now, which i won’t complain about. daniel and lando are like my full grown children half the time, and baby is the size of a cabbage now…which i feel the weight of 24/7🥴

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username cabbage ricciardo!!

liked by ynricciardo

username ou gelato sounds so good rn

username lando and danny being actual kids in adult bodies 💀

landonorris i was your first child remember that😌

>danielricciardo yeah idk why we agreed on that

>ynricciardo are you saying i was stupid to agree that lando was our first child? 🤨

>danielricciardo NO never, you’re the smartest baby, i love you!!

username HAHAHAHA smart response daniel

username im dying right now

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ynricciardo

liked by landonorris, kellypique, redbullracing, danielricciardo and 2M others

how the night started vs how the morning ended up, a very surprise welcome to our little girl Mila Grace Ricciardo. You are so special to us, mommy and daddy love you so much already❤️❤️

tagged daniel ricciardo

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username oh i’m sobbing rn

username Mila🥹🥹🥹

username I LOVE HER NAME SM

redbullracing welcome to the world little Mila!❤️

liked by ynricciardo and danielricciardo

landonorris im still crying

landonorris i can’t wait to meet her

>ynricciardo we’ll be home tomorrow so come over whenever ❤️

username lando crying is so me

danielricciardo my girls forever❤️

landonorris

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i’m not crying anymore don’t worry, just couldn’t help but introduce Mila as my god daughter. i can’t thank y/n enough, okay i guess daniel too, for trusting me with this title. i love Mila so much already

ps. i’m moving in😁

tagged ynricciardo, daniel ricciardo

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username omg lando and mila😭

username why is this making me sob so hard rn

username lando is the best uncle and now godfather ever🥹

ynricciardo you’re family lando, Mila loves you so much already, you always have a home with us🤍

>username ‘you always have a home with us’ i’m unstable

>danielricciardo she means the garage

>ynricciardo 🤨🤨🤨

username HAHAHAHA this is sending me

mclaren welcome baby mila 🧡🧡

liked by ynricciardo and landonorris

username lando getting all the mila angles 😭

#daniel ricciardo fake social media #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x girlfriend reader #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo x fem!reader #dad daniel ricciardo #formula 1 masterlist #formula one #formula 1 #danny ric #rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks

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cameronspecial · 5 months

Note

dad!drew , coming home from the hospital after giving birth and bring the baby home , and the first night with the baby !

Their Own Little Party

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

“You know you could’ve driven faster,” Y/N comments, tossing the strap of the diaper bag over her shoulder. Drew peeks into the car seat where his sleeping daughter is and smiles. He unbuckles the seat, taking her out gently. His head moves like a dog shaking off water, “Are you crazy? I had two precious cargoes in the back. I wasn’t going to go any faster than that.” She giggles and goes to his side. “I feel like you could’ve done that without driving so slow. I mean, Baby, even that little old lady flipped you off,” she notes, opening the front door for him and switching the lights on. He sets the car seat down and drops to the floor to start taking Mila out of her car seat, “She was mean.” Y/N watches as he picks up their daughter. “This is your home, Pumpkin. We are now in the front entryway, where I’m going to teach you how to tie your shoes and put on your jacket in that funny way kids do,” he whispers the next part. “After I figure out how to do that.” “Are you going to do this for every room?” she questions. Y/N finds it adorable, but giving birth and worrying about being a mom has really drained her. All she wants to do is get to bed and she knows Drew is going to take forever with his tour. He can read her like fortune-telling tea, “Why don’t you go sleep? I can handle putting her to bed tonight.”

“Really? But we need to parent together and this is her first day home.”

“I’m not going to stop you from missing out on this milestone if you want to help. However, I hope you know that even though she is only a few days old, I do feel like we are doing this parenting thing together. We don’t need to do everything together for us to be doing this together. Sometimes we’ll just need to take turns.”

It would be nice to go through this milestone with Mila, except Y/N has already gone through a nighttime routine with Mila during their time at the hospital and she would much rather sleep than experience the same routine in a new setting. Relief spreads across her and she steps onto her tippy toes to kiss him. “Thank you so much, I love you.”

———

Crying comes from the baby monitor and Y/N is about to get up to care for the child in need, yet the wails stop and this gets her running out of the room. She hears the floorboards creak and a male voice she recognizes comes from Mila’s room.

"Au clair de la lune,

Mon ami Pierrot,

Prête-moi ta plume

Pour écrire un mot.”

She peeks into the room to find Drew holding Mila, who is only wearing a diaper, against his bare chest. He is quietly singing into her ear and swaying in the spot where he stands. Y/N steps forward, the floorboard announcing her entrance. He freezes and turns towards his wife. “Hey, you should be asleep,” he whispers, walking close to her. She wraps her arms around his waist from the front and nuzzles her head beside Mila’s, “I was and then this little one got fussy. It seems like I was missing the party though. I must say that it is very rude of you not to invite me.” He chuckles. “I’m sorry, your invitation must have gotten lost in the mail,” he jokes. The two of them don’t exchange any other words; instead, they spend the night cuddling in their own little party with their little family.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#dad!drew #dad!drew starkey #drew #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fluff

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sunny44 · 3 months

Text

Surprise visit

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Carlos Sainz x Fem!reader

Warnings: none I guess.

Summary: Your friends visit you at work.

This is a request.

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon at the bustling childcare center where I work. Laughter of children filled the air as they played with toys and engaged in various activities. I was in the middle of organizing a craft session, helping a group of toddlers glue colorful pieces of paper onto their creations, when I heard the front door chime.

I glanced up, expecting to see another parent picking up their child or someone from school that wanted to talk to me, but instead, I was surprised with unexpected visitors. Standing at the entrance, with wide smiles on their faces, were none other than Carlos, Lando and Charles.

The three Formula 1 drivers seemed somewhat out of place in the childcare center, yet their presence brought an instant energy and excitement to the room.

"Surprise!" Carlos exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he waved.

I blinked, trying to process what you were seeing.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked, a smile spreading across my face despite the shock of. Seeing he three of them.

Lando grinned and stepped forward, carrying a large bag.

"We remembered you work here and thought it would be fun to come by and see the you and your little ones."

Charles nodded, his expression warm and genuine, and god I love that smile.

"We know how much you love your job, and we wanted to see you in action."

Before you could respond, a chorus of excited giggles erupted from the children. They recognized the famous faces, their eyes wide with wonder and delight. One brave little boy approached Carlos, tugging on his pant leg.

"Are you a race car driver?" the boy asked, his voice filled with awe and Carlos crouched down to the child's level and nodded, smiling warmly.

"Yes, I am. Do you like cars?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically, and soon, the drivers were surrounded by a small crowd of curious children. Lando and Charles joined in, each taking a moment to chat with the kids and answer their questions.

I watched the scene unfold, my heart was swelling with gratitude and happiness. It was surreal to see these world-famous athletes so effortlessly engaging with the children, bringing joy and excitement to their day.

"Do you mind if we join the craft session?" Lando asked, looking at you with a playful glint in his eye.

"Of course not," you replied, laughing. "The more, the merrier."

The drivers eagerly rolled up their sleeves and dove into the activities, helping the kids with their art projects and even making a few of their own. Carlos proved to be surprisingly skilled with a glue stick, while Lando's creativity knew no bounds. Charles, meanwhile, patiently assisted the younger children, his gentle demeanor putting them at ease.

I was distracted organizing a few things when Mila, a little bonde blue eyed girl called me.

“Yes, dear?”

“Is the boy with dark hair and dimples your boyfriend?”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because he’s looking at you the same way my dad looks at my mom.” she says and when I looked a Charles he stoped looking.

“He’s not my boyfriend Mila.”

“Do you think hell be mine if I asked him?” I smiled at her innocence.

“Maybe you should ask him?”

Then she ran to him and touched his shoulder to catch his attention.

“hey cutie.”he says and she smiled at him.”

“Ca I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you wanna be my boyfriend since your not Miss Y/L/N boyfriend?” She asked and I had to control myself to not laugh.

“I think I’m a bit old for you.”

“But I think your so pretty and I love your dimples.” She says and he smiled at her.

“Well thank you for that but I kinda like another girl so…”

“Wow, that’s awesome.” She said happy making him giggle. “Well thank you though.”

“No, thank you.” She hugged him and he looked at me and smiled.

The rest of the afternoon flew by in a blur of laughter, conversation, and colorful creations. The children adored their unexpected visitors, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and joy as you watched the drivers interact with them.

As the day came to a close and the children were picked up by their parents, Carlos, Lando, and Charles helped you clean up the classroom. They thanked you for letting them visit and expressed their admiration for the important work you did every day.

"It was our pleasure," Charles said, giving you a warm smile. "You're doing an amazing job here."

"Yeah, this was really fun," Lando added. "We should do it again sometime."

Carlos nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. Thanks for letting us crash your workday, Y/n."

I couldn't stop smiling as you walked them to the door. "Thank you all for coming. You made the kids' day—and mine, too."

“We’re going for dinner today so, if your available.” Charles said.

“Oh yeah, you should come.”

“Okay, text me the details and I’ll see you guys later.”

“Great, see you.” Lando says and they leave.

After the door closed behind Carlos, Lando, and Charles, the childcare center felt quieter, though the air still buzzed with the excitement left behind by their visit. I gathered the last of the craft supplies, still replaying the surreal afternoon in my mind.

The children, now mostly gone, had left their colorful creations drying on a nearby table. I took a moment to admire the art, some pieces embellished with extra flair thanks to the drivers' help. It felt like a dream, having them there, but the tangible evidence of their visit was scattered across the room.

As I finished tidying up, I heard the familiar sound of my phone buzzing in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw a message from Charles.

Charles

Hey! We’re meeting at La Nona at 7 PM. Looking forward to seeing you there!

I felt a flutter of excitement. Dinner with them would be the perfect way to end this unexpected day. I quickly replied:

You

Sounds perfect! See you then.

With the room finally in order, I said goodbye to my colleagues and stepped out into the warm evening air. The drive home was filled with a mix of anticipation and disbelief. I quickly showered, changed into a casual yet stylish outfit, and headed to La Nonna.

The restaurant was cozy, with a welcoming ambiance. I spotted them almost immediately—Carlos, Lando, and Charles were already seated at a corner table, their laughter and easy conversation drawing me in.

Charles noticed me first, his eyes lighting up as he waved me over. “Y/N! Over here!”

I approached the table, smiling as they stood to greet me. “Hey guys, thanks for inviting me.”

“Of course,” Carlos said, pulling out a chair for me. “We’re glad you could make it.”

As I sat down, the conversation flowed effortlessly. We talked about their visit to the childcare center, their racing experiences, and even shared a few personal stories. It felt like catching up with old friends rather than dining with world-famous athletes.

At one point, Lando leaned in with a mischievous grin. “So, Y/N, what did Mila ask you about Charles?”

I laughed, recounting the adorable exchange with the little girl. Charles blushed slightly, his dimples deepening as he smiled.

“She’s quite the matchmaker,” he said, glancing at me with a warmth that made my heart skip a beat. “She asked if Charles was my boyfriend and when I said he wasn’t, she asked me if he would be her boyfriend.”

“Look at you, making all the girls fall in love with you.” Lando says.

“Speaking about boyfriends and girlfriends,” Carlos chimed in, “do you think she’ll be happy if she finds out you’re taken and it not Charles?”

I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m not taken,” I clarified, trying to keep my tone light.

Charles gave me a thoughtful look. “Not yet, anyway,” he said softly, his eyes holding mine for a moment longer than necessary.

The rest of the evening was a blur of delicious food, laughter, and easy conversation. As the night drew to a close, I felt a mix of contentment and excitement about the future.

Walking out of the restaurant, Charles fell into step beside me. “Can I walk you to your car?” he asked.

“Sure,” I replied, feeling a flutter of nerves and anticipation.

As we reached my car, Charles turned to face me. “Today was amazing, Y/N. Seeing you with the kids, how much they adore you—it was something special.”

“Thank you,” I said, touched by his words. “And thank you for coming. The kids loved it, and so did I. Specially Mila”

Charles laughed and a few seconds later he hesitated for a moment, then took a step closer.

“I was serious earlier,” he said quietly. “About being interested in someone. I know this might seem sudden, but I’d really like to get to know you better.”

My heart raced as I met his gaze. “I’d like that too, Charles.”

He smiled, his dimples deepening. “Great. How about we start with a proper date, just the two of us?”

“I’d love that,” I replied, unable to hide my excitement.

“Then it’s a date,” he said, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. “I’ll call you tomorrow to make plans.”

As Charles walked away, I couldn’t help but smile. Today had been full of surprises, and as I drove home, I couldn’t contain my excitement about our future date.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram stories

“My babies project of the day” posted at: 10:34am

“Friends, pasta and lots of wine.” Posted at: 8:30pm

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ferrstappen · 1 year

Text

unscheduled school visit l Max Verstappen

a/n: hello! i got this quick idea while working on some requests/school work. hope you like it and pls pls feel free to leave feedback <3 it really motivates me <3

pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x female reader.

summary: the twins' teacher calls, the twins got in trouble. Max is in disbelief.

Max was a strict parent.

Not in the way people may think, and not in the least similar to how his dad was with him, but Max always was concerned on how the twins were doing in school, only in first grade, but still. He was always working on instilling discipline and hard work to Luca and Mila, so in the future they can be whatever the hell they want to be. Max knew money was never going to be an issue, so it was up to them to take all the opportunities that meant.

He always tried to take them to museums when they joined races, often tried to switch languages, even encouraging other drivers and people in the grid who interacted with the kids to speak in their different languages.

It was always fun to watch Charles speaking to Luca in French or Italian as Luca slowly tried to come up with an answer and was always met with a high five, or Mila asking Checo why Carlos had a different accent.

The smile never disappeared from your face when you get home from running an errand or attending a meeting that couldn’t be held on Zoom, to Luca and Mila chatting about what they learned on school today or silently doing their homework on the family room while Max watched them, himself also getting some things in the meantime.

The point is the twins were smart, both you and Max putting all your efforts to gently and effectively find what they like, what they don’t.

You know your kids. Both of you would put your hands on fire because of them. You trusted them because Max and you were raising them good and the twins were great beyond words could explain.

So when you receive a call from school telling you to come over, you quickly reached Max who was on the sim, driving through Imola with his eyes closed.

“Babe, school called and we have to go,” As soon as you announced the news Max turned around, seat and steering wheel lightly shaking.

“What do you mean? What happened?” Max was instantly on his feet.

“I don’t know, Max. Their teacher called,” You told your husband as his eyes opened widely.

“Their? Is it both of them?” Max was in complete disbelief of what he was hearing.

“It appears so. I’ll cancel a meeting and we go.”

You didn’t leave him alone for thirty seconds, you swear, but when you came back Max was on the phone, asking the teacher to put Mila on the phone.

He knew his daughter too well. She was outspoken, assertive, didn’t think twice. Luca was more cautious, wise and maybe a little timid.

“Pap, he was trying to pull Luca’s hair and stealing his crayons, and Luca was letting him because he didn’t want to cause any trouble!” an agitated Mila informed Max, speaking a broken dutch.

“Are you okay?” Max calmly asked his frantic daughter. He knew she was disquieted, trying to sound more sure of herself than she actually was.

“Yes,” she said in dutch, but in the back her teacher told her in a sweet voice to speak in a language they could all understand.

“Okay baby girl, mama and I are on our way, see you in a bit,”

During the drive to La Condamine to reach the International School of Monaco, you discovered a side of your husband you had yet to see. It was fun.

“She is not apologizing!” Max told you, eyes not leaving the narrow road.

“Max, she pulled the kid’s hair,” You reminded your husband, who softly shook his head in disagreement.

“Yes, because the idiot kid was bothering Luca and pulled his hair! If anything that kid should be apologizing to Luca, his sister just defended him!” His lisp was more prominent as you reached the parking lot overlooking the several yachts.

Max noticed the other child’s parents already walking inside the school, there weren’t many students in the Early Years building. He pressed the gas harder than necessary, making the engine of the family Aston Martin roar like they were in the paddock.

Your eyes rolled at his antics, but still it made your insides feel giddy at the thought of your husband being protective and loving.

Luca’s arms were wrapped around you as soon as you walked inside. Kneeling to reach his height, your heart broke at the sight of his disheveled hair and wet cheeks, his beautiful eyes red. Luca tried to not sniff and stop the tears, trying to be brave when he felt your hands on his cheeks and kissing his forehead, asking if he was okay.

At the same time, Max sat next to Mila whose eyes didn’t leave the other kid’s sight, whom you learned his name was Oliver. Max knew his daughter wanted to shed a tear, but didn’t let it show, so he just gave her a reassuring look before listening to the teacher who had the three of them in charge.

Curtly shaking hands with Oliver’s parents, Max politely ignoring the poor attempt of one of “the idiot kid’s” dad to start a conversation, obviously starstruck by your husband the World Champion.

Yes, it was Monaco and everyone knew each other, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce the two Verstappen named kids on the class were the children of the Max Verstappen, but he was often away and it was mostly you who attended parent-related stuff, but now there was the chance to have a conversation directly with him.

Oh well.

The four got inside the car, Max adjusting the seats before getting in the driver seat. Mila and Luca loudly sighed, knowing what followed.

“I don’t know how to address this. I’m moved and proud that you look out and defend each other, but M, baby, pulling someone else’s hair is not the way,” you softly told your daughter. “and Luca, honey, I know it’s hard but when someone invades your space and is rude, but you can tell the teacher before it makes you feel bad and leads to this,”

Max’s eyes followed the twins movements through the rearview mirror as you talked to them, soon reaching your home. You grabbed the backpacks and Max helped the twins get out of the car.

He reached Luca’s door first. When he was out, he left a kiss on his forehead and ruffled his hair, softly reminding his carbon copy that he was a little lion, still with lots to learn, but no one ever could make him feel like this.

Then he reached Mila’s door. Her eyes now were a bit glossy, but he knew she was just like him, Mila would never show weakness. He reminded her that she can take some weight off, let her guard down with her parents before kissing her hair.

You watched the scene unfold from afar, not knowing what he told them, but sure they were the right words.

Then giggles reached your ears, eyes immediately rolling.

He was fist bumping Mila, giving her a nod of approval.

For God’s sake, this wouldn’t be the first time you’re called to school, that’s for sure.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen au #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen blurb #dad!max verstappen #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #Max Verstappen fanfic

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ak-vintage · 3 months

Text

Sweet As

Pairing: Francisco Morales/f! babysitter reader

Summary: Frankie comes home after a long day at work and learns how you have been keeping cool in the midst of a heat wave.

Prompt: Frankie Morales x Grapes

Tags & Warnings: 18+ MDNI, 6 years post-Triple Frontier, single dad Frankie, flight instructor Frankie, babysitter reader, dual POV, age gap (not specified, but reader is a grad student), minimal descriptors of reader character, no use of y/n, domestic, sweet, mutual pining, food as foreplay, frottage, pussy pronouns, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), trying to keep quiet, trying not to get caught, undefined but hopeful ending

Word Count: 7.5K

Written for the @happypedrohours Charcuterie Board Challenge.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

Read on AO3

You had always been a summer girl, but even you had your limits.

It was week three of the most severe heatwave the south had seen in a decade, and even with the Morales’s air conditioner running at full capacity, you still couldn’t help but park yourself directly under the ceiling fan with a sweating glass of iced tea. Mila, thankfully, hadn’t fought you during bedtime tonight, the six-year-old nearly dead on her feet after a full day of summer activities – a bike ride around the block before the heat of the day had set in, a dance party after lunch, hours in her swimsuit weaving in and out of the sprinkler in the back yard. You had done your best to keep up with her sunscreen, but she still sported a little flush on her round, tan cheeks as she crawled into bed, making little snuffling snores before you had even finished telling her goodnight.

There was a part of you that envied it, the way she could just collapse into sleep, not a care in the world, while you were stuck at the kitchen table late into the night, your laptop and textbooks strewn across its surface. The perils of holding down a full-time babysitting gig while also taking summer classes, you supposed.

It was worth it, though. Mila was a sweet girl, a total social butterfly, full of giggles and sweetness, easily the most fun kid you had ever cared for. And Frankie, her father…

Mr. Morales, you reminded yourself with a quick shake of your head.

Mr. Morales was a dream to work for. Respectful, pleasant, communicative, fair. A great parent to his daughter – a single dad, the only one in your regular client rotation. He paid you well for your time, and he was generous with his recreation budget, always making sure to leave cash in the top kitchen drawer for ice cream treats, trips to the pool, matinee movies. You really couldn’t have asked for a better job for the summer.

It didn’t hurt that he was absurdly handsome, in a rugged, lived-in sort of way. Not that it mattered, of course; he was your boss, more than a decade your senior, and you were, above all else, a professional. Hitting on the kids’ dads? The biggest babysitting faux pas. You liked to think you had more class than that.

However, class or not, you were still just a woman, and Francisco Morales? He was all man.

A blue-collar, ex-military guy in his mid-forties, he was tall and impossibly broad in the shoulders with long, muscular arms, a soft tummy that peaked out over the waistband of his jeans, and a head full of dark brown curls that were constantly just a little squished by a dark, well-worn ballcap bearing the Standard Oil logo. He started out a bit reserved in the beginning, not at all unfriendly but certainly someone who took some time to open up to new people, but in the months since you had started working for him, the two of you had developed a comfortable rapport.

So, if you dragged yourself out of bed an hour early just so you could get to his house in time enough to share a cup of coffee with him before he left for work, well…that was just relationship building with a client, wasn’t it? If you found yourself lingering in the driveway every time he walked you out to your car at the end of the day, extending the conversation more and more, delaying your departure as long as you could manage, that was just…friendship, right? Comradery.

And if, on nights like tonight, you received a series of clunky, unpunctuated texts asking you to stay late on short notice and you agreed without question, that was just going above and beyond. That was you being a good employee.

It definitely wasn’t you genuinely wanting to help out the struggling single father, not because you were being paid to do so, but because he deserved it. And you definitely didn’t take a deep, personal satisfaction in knowing that he trusted you, knowing that he relied on you.

It was all above board. All friendly. All completely and totally normal.

These were the things you told yourself, anyway. It helped you to keep your traitorous heart in check.

It was nearing 10:00 PM by the time Frankie finally pulled into his driveway, his eyelids heavy, his limbs leaden and slicked with sweat. One of the ‘copters at the flight school where he worked had required some major repairs after a clumsy takeoff by one of the students earlier that afternoon had resulted in damage to the rotor blades, and he had volunteered to stay behind after hours and help with the effort so the thing wouldn’t have to spend the entire next day grounded. He was an instructor these days, but his assistance had still been welcomed. In the years he had spent attempting to earn back his pilot’s license after his…indiscretions, he had spent a fair amount of time working as an aviation mechanic to make ends meet.

Even then, at the lowest point of his life, he hadn’t been able to keep himself away from a hangar.

It had been back-breaking work, and Frankie hated having to ask you to stay late when he knew you had your own life, your own friends, your own dreams outside of babysitting his kid, but the repairs were complete now, which meant that none of the instructors would need to cancel any of their lessons for the following day. And when the flight school’s students were, more often than not, rich old men and their trust fund sons who didn’t take well to being told “no,” the extra effort would not go unnoticed.

Now, however, as he shifted his pickup truck into park next to your beat-up old Ford Focus, all he could think about was getting into the air conditioning, taking off his boots, and sitting down at the kitchen table under the ceiling fan with you.

It was the only advantage, really, of these late nights. Infrequent though they were, Frankie couldn’t deny that there was something special about coming home to find his daughter tucked up in bed, happy and tired and well-fed, and you at the table with your schoolwork strewn out in front of you. There was something peaceful and almost painfully domestic about it, something that had his chest swelling with a feeling that he couldn’t quite identify but that he knew for certain was not something one was meant to feel for one’s babysitter.

It was the same feeling he got when you started accepting his offers of coffee in the mornings before he left for work, or when you noticed that he had started purchasing the sugary-sweet creamer you preferred when he had only ever drunk his coffee black. It was the same feeling he got when he came home on one of the first nights of this fucking wretched heatwave to find you chasing his daughter around the back yard with an armful of water balloons, the both of you soaked to the skin and giggling as you pelted each other relentlessly.

It was the same feeling he got when he walked you out to your car and he watched you grip the driver’s door handle so tight your knuckles turned pale, watched you glance down at his lips one too many times to be proper. Soft mouth parted, long lashes casting shadows across your sun-kissed cheeks, perfect breasts rising and falling with your quickened breath –

Frankie brought the heels of his hands up to his eyes, pressing hard, scrubbing across his face to banish the thought. He had no business thinking of you like that, noticing you like that, and he needed to get it together before he walked through the front door and found you precisely where he had imagined you. This might have been his home, but it was your place of work, and he refused to be one of those skeevy dads who made the babysitter uncomfortable.

Gathering himself, Frankie hopped down out of the truck and jogged up the front porch steps. Slipping his keyring from his front pocket, he opened the door as quietly as he could manage and kicked his well-worn boots off onto the mat inside the entryway.

Before he could announce his arrival, however, your voice called out to him, hushed and warm.

“Welcome home, Mr. Morales,” you said sweetly, glancing up at him from your favorite chair at his table. He could see you there through the kitchen doorway, hair piled haphazardly on top of your head, eyes tired but soft, happy. You had gotten even more sun today, your cheeks, nose, and forehead tinged with pink, and you wore an oversized T-shirt and a pair of almost sinfully short shorts, the kind with the elastic waist that looked soft to the touch. Frankie tried and failed not to trace the length of your legs with his eyes, not to imagine the plush softness of your thighs, the suppleness of your calves.

Dragging his gaze back up to your face, praying that you hadn’t caught the trajectory of his traitor eyes, he was somewhat surprised to find you studying him, as well. Rather intently, as a matter of fact. He squinted down at himself, puzzled, and noticed for the first time what you must be staring at: he was a mess.

He was smudged with grease from head to toe, dark streaks of the oily substance arcing across his jeans, his uniform polo, his bare forearms, the backs of his hands. His skin, where it was visible, shone with sweat in the dim entryway light, and his shirt clung to his upper body like a second skin from the heat (moisture-wicking fabric, his ass). The weather would have been enough to have him in a state, but the late night combined with the manual labor had clearly taken its toll.

He watched the long column of your throat bob as you swallowed thickly.

“Rough day?” you asked after a beat of tense silence, keeping your voice low so as not to wake Mila.

Frankie felt his lips lift at the corner, offering you a fatigued half-smile. “A bit, yeah. But better now.”

You pressed your mouth into a thin line as though smothering a grin. “Glad to hear it.” Gesturing at the chair opposite you, you added, “Why don’t you come have a seat, and I’ll heat up some leftovers for you? You have to be starving.”

Fuck, now that you mentioned it, he was starving. He and the small crew of mechanics had taken a brief snack break while they worked, partaking of whatever hodgepodge of junk they had been able to liberate from the vending machine in the office, but that bag of chips and stale granola bar had left his system hours ago now. Still, even as his stomach growled with hunger, he couldn’t help but protest, “You don’t need to do that, cariño. It’s not your job to cook for me on top of everything else you do around here.”

You waved his words away with a flippant flick of your wrist, already on your feet and heading for the refrigerator. “I’ve told you, it’s not a problem. I cook anyway for me and Mila. Why wouldn’t I make a little extra for you while I’m at it?” You glanced over your shoulder at him. “Now sit down. I’ve got this.”

As the container of leftover pasta rotated in the pale yellow light of the microwave, you took a moment to gather yourself, to reign in the surge of want that had pulsed through you at the sight of your employer hovering in the entryway.

Miles of golden tan skin shining with sweat, pooling in the little hollow at the base of his neck. His uniform polo unbuttoned as far down as it would go, showing a sliver of gray ribbed undershirt. Grease smudged across one high cheekbone, streaked across his hands. You needed those hands on you, needed him to transfer those dark marks onto your skin, your clothes, to leave a trail across your body so you could remember everywhere he had touched you, so you could see it when you looked in the mirror.

“How was Mila today? She behave herself all right?”

You startled at the sound of his voice, quickly schooling your face into what you hoped was a pleasantly neutral expression before turning back around to face him. “Oh, yeah, she was great. We had a good day today.”

Frankie – Mr. Morales – smiled fondly at that. “Good, that’s good. No more, uh, meltdowns in the afternoon?”

“No, things have been pretty smooth since we started digging through that article I found. ‘30 Activities to Keep Kids Cool in the Summer’ or whatever. It’s been a huge help.” You chuckled wryly. “Once I figured out a way to let her be outside in the afternoons without running the risk of heatstroke, she’s been great.”

“Right, right.” He settled himself in the chair across from yours, running the side of his fingers across his patchy stubble in thought. “That’s what gave you the idea for the water balloons that one day, right?”

The microwave beeped twice, the golden light inside flickering off, and you grabbed the steaming leftover container as you spoke. “Yeah, exactly. And the sprinkler, and turning paint into ice cubes and using it like chalk.” Snagging a fork from the silverware drawer, you handed both to the exhausted man and slid back into your seat.

He tossed you a grateful smile and dug into the meal with gusto, loosing a quiet groan at the first bite. “Shit, that’s good,” he sighed, dark eyes fluttering closed in a way that had your heartrate spiking. “Thank you for this, cariño. You’re a lifesaver.”

Warmth blossomed in your chest, and you fought the urge to reach out and squeeze his shoulder comfortingly. “Of course, it’s my pleasure.”

Shoving a few more bites into his mouth, he asked, “Didn’t you freeze her Barbies one day, too?”

“Yeah, I did!” It had been one of Mila’s favorites so far of the heatwave-proof activities you had planned for her, and the memory of it had you chuckling. “I took a couple of her dolls and a bunch of their accessories, put them in a few of those sand buckets you guys have in the garage, filled those with water, and then froze them overnight. It took her hours to dig them all out, but hey. It kept her busy, and she didn’t overheat in the process, so I’ll take it.”

Mr. Morales grinned at that, plucking a napkin from the holder in the center of the table, scrubbing it across his sauce-stained moustache. “Incredible. You know, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all the extra effort you’ve been going to with her lately. I know it’s a lot, just looking after her eight hours a day, every day. But with this heat, I know she’s going stir-crazy.” He glanced down at his meal, something almost bashful creeping into his expression. “Pretty sure she gets that from me. Never been real good at sitting still, being stuck indoors.”

“It’s really nothing, Mr. Morales,” you insisted, brushing away the praise with a swipe of your hand.

“No. S’not nothing.” His low voice had gone serious now, and when he glanced back up at you, his eyes were wide, dark, and earnest. “The way you take care of her? The way you always seem to just…know what she needs? That’s everything.” You swore you saw his cheeks darken, swore you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “And I told you. S’okay if you call me Frankie. That Mr. Morales stuff makes me feel old.”

You drew your lower lip between your teeth, gaze flicking down to your hands as the intensity of the eye contact became too much to handle. “If you’re sure,” you agreed after a moment. “I don’t want to…presume.”

“Not presuming,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “We’re…friends, right, cariño? Friends can call each other by their first names.”

Something in your stomach ached at his words, but he sounded so genuine, so hopeful that you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. “Suppose that’s true… Frankie.”

Fucking Christ.

Maybe that hadn’t been the right call, Frankie thought. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested you call him that, not when your voice sounded so sweet wrapped around his name, not when the hour was so late, the house so silent, like you were the only two people awake in the world. That kind of intimacy, it was going to give him…ideas.

Eager to distract himself from the moment, he plowed onward. “Well, what was the activity today?” he asked, stabbing another selection of pasta and vegetables with his fork.

You appeared to consider the question for a moment before replying, “Actually, it’s more of ‘show’ thing than a ‘tell’ thing, so if you don’t mind holding that thought for a minute, I’ll show you after you’re finished eating.”

Frankie arched an eyebrow at you, intrigued. “Okay, sure. I can wait. Why don’t you tell me what you’re working on then instead? Something for school, I assume?” He gestured at the impressive spread of textbooks, printed articles, and your open laptop taking up most of the surface of the kitchen table.

Immediately, you launched into a detailed explanation of your current project, a research proposal for your graduate program that would serve as the capstone of this session of summer classes. He would freely admit that he only understood bits and pieces of it, his formal education having ended with his high school graduation, but he always enjoyed asking you about your schoolwork. The way you lit up when you talked about the subjects you were passionate about, your animated gestures, your wide, sparkling eyes, all of it was deeply endearing to him. He loved how passionate you were, the way you chased after your goals with fire and focus. It was one of his favorite things about you, and he felt as though that list might be growing longer by the day.

Your monologue about your research proposal gave him the perfect opportunity to finish his meal, so that by the time you had come to the end of your explanation, Frankie was dropping his fork into the now-empty container and leaning back in his chair, pleasantly full and satisfied.

“Oh,” you gasped, seeming to come back to yourself as you took in his relaxed posture, the little smile on his face. “Wow, I really just went on and on there, huh? Sorry about that, I guess I get a little overexcited about my research.”

“Don’t apologize. I like how fired up about it you get, it’s cute.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, a little too honest, a little too real, and Frankie braced himself for the shift in your demeanor that was sure to follow. The awkwardness, the clear discomfort at the too-personal words from your employer. But it never came. Instead, your cheeks darkened under his gaze, a flush spreading down your neck and disappearing into the neckline of your oversized T-shirt.

“You…you think I’m cute?” you stammered, voice a bit breathless in a way that had him shifting in his seat, and he felt a fresh flush of sweat bead up on his forehead, just under the brim of his ballcap, at the sound.

He needed to blow you off, he knew. He needed to make an excuse for the comment, turn it into something mindless, something shallow and impersonal, if he wanted to point this conversation back in the right direction.

“‘Course, cariño,” he said instead. “Who wouldn’t? Might be an old man these days, but I’m not dead yet.”

What was wrong with him?

You blinked back at him for a moment, eyes wide and glossy, lips parted in surprise at the confession, but then you were smiling, something almost…flirtatious in the curve of your lip as you said, “You’re not an old man, Frankie. You’re…experienced.”

Oh, fuck him.

This was a dangerous path the two of you were walking, and in that moment, Frankie wasn’t sure what frightened him more: the eventual destination or the fact that you seemed more than willing to travel it with him.

If he was ever going to make it back to safety, he needed to switch gears. Now.

“How about that activity?” he said quickly. “You gonna show me what you and Mila got up to all day?”

Drawing back from where you had started to lean toward him across the table, you shook your head a bit, as though the question had brought you back to yourself. He watched as the softness and the want in your eyes dissipated, and though he mourned it, he knew it was for the best. The two of you had come too close to crossing that line tonight. You both needed to regain your footing a bit.

“Sure. Actually, it should make for a good dessert.” Getting to your feet once more, you crossed to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door, pulling three medium-sized plastic containers from its depths. The clear plastic fogged up the moment it hit the outside air, obscuring their contents, but Frankie didn’t have to wait for long to see what was inside. A moment later, you spread the three containers out on the kitchen table in front of him and began removing their lids.

Inside the containers was a selection of perfectly chopped, completely frozen fruit. The two of you had clearly used some creatively-shaped cutters to prepare the fruit, as some of the chunks were shaped like little hearts, others looked like tiny stars, and still others looked as though a cutter in the shape of a bunny head had been used. One container held little hunks of bright red watermelon in a full assortment of unique shapes, another boasted chunks of pineapple, also uniquely prepared, and in the last container, a medley of green and red grapes had been halved down the center for easy eating.

“What tastes better on a hot day than fresh fruit?” you asked cheerily. “We cut it up together out on the patio first thing this morning so it would have time to freeze. Mila wanted me to tell you that she did the watermelon because it’s pink and that’s her favorite.”

Frankie glanced up at you, meeting your eyes over the frosty containers. “That sounds about right,” he chuckled.

“I ended up having to hose down the concrete by the time we were done, but it made a great snack when it got miserable out. She was going back and forth between the sprinkler and her bowl on the patio all afternoon.”

He grinned at the image you painted, thinking of his little girl in her pink bathing suit, wild brown ringlets wet and clinging to her scalp, grass sticking to her feet as she danced through the spray of the sprinkler, darting back to grab a hunk of watermelon or a frozen grape, the juice dripping from her little fingers.

“Help yourself,” you encouraged, sitting back down across from him. “I’ll have some with you.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Shouldn’t I…grab us some forks?”

You shrugged, that fucking grin making its way back onto your face. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

And with that, you fluttered your fingertips over the container of frozen grapes, plucked one from the pile, and slipped it into your mouth with a satisfied sigh. You might have started chatting then, might have begun asking him if he had any fun plans for the upcoming weekend and offered a summary of yours in return, but Frankie hardly heard a word of it. He was too preoccupied with your…snacking.

The plushness of your lips, the little peek of your slick, pink tongue each time you opened them, the way you seemed to allow the fruit to linger in your mouth as it defrosted. Heart-shaped watermelon had pale pink juice spilling out of the corner of your mouth, making it halfway down your chin before you delicately swiped it away with the tip of your middle finger. A pineapple star had you smiling softly as you enjoyed the burst of tartness over your tastebuds.

And those grapes.

Those goddamn fucking grapes, with their slick, frosty skin and their subtle, gentle sweetness – those you softly, almost absently traced over the seam of your lips before slipping them inside. Like you were savoring the sensation unconsciously, like the cool wetness of them quenched something in you that you weren’t even aware required attention. They made your mouth glisten in the low light, the shine of it so tempting he was certain that he hadn’t looked away from it in several minutes now.

In the back of his mind, he knew he needed to get ahold of himself. There was no way you hadn’t noticed; he had to be making you uncomfortable by now. But he just…couldn’t. God, you looked good enough to eat, with your messy hair and your sun-pinked cheeks and your bright eyes and your soft, bare legs.

A droplet of sweat traveled down the side of his face, streaking down his temple, his jaw, his neck.

Your mouth looked cool, and it looked sweet.

“…Frankie?”

Frankie startled at the sound of his name on your tongue, and his gaze snapped back up to your eyes instantly, a wicked flush blazing up the back of his neck and over his skull in mortification. Shit, you had noticed him staring, this was such a major fuck-up –

“Hm? What’s that, cariño?” His voice came out weak and raspy, like his throat had gone dry, and he cleared it loudly.

“I was saying, you don’t want any of the fruit?” You looked him over with wide, innocent eyes, and for the first time, Frankie realized that he hadn’t taken a single bite.

“Uh. A-Actually, I think I might be too full at the moment,” he stammered, bringing a hand up to pat himself across the belly in excuse.

The little confused quirk of your head told him immediately that you didn’t believe him. Scooting your chair across the hardwood floor, you came to sit directly next to him and gently scolded, “Frankie, you’ve been out working in this heat all night. You need to rehydrate. Here, you have room for a few pieces. Open up, okay?”

One of those slick, dewy grape halves appeared between your thumb and forefinger then, and the next thing he knew, you were holding it out to him. Not to take with his own hand, but to eat. It was a mere hairsbreadth away from his mouth.

Unable to formulate a suitable protest, his brain suddenly feeling rather detached from his body, all Frankie could do was drop his jaw and allow you to slip the fruit inside.

The pads of your fingers touched the soft, sensitive skin of his lower lip, and that was when he was certain that not only had his brain seemingly walked away on its own, it had turned fully off. That was the only explanation he could come up with for why the moment he registered the delicate touch, he immediately seized your wrist in one of his fists, dragging your fingers fully into his mouth.

A loud, feminine gasp met his ears as he swiped his tongue between your fingertips, stealing the frozen fruit from your grasp, pressing it firmly against the roof of his mouth to squash it, and quickly swallowing it down. His tongue returned to your skin, lapping at the frost and the condensation and the delicate, sweet juices coating your fingertips, and he watched as your eyes glazed over at the sensation. Your wrist went limp in his grasp, your fingers pliant, never once attempting to withdraw, and the ball of heat that had been brewing in his gut all night suddenly reached a fever pitch as he realized that you liked this.

Cock twitching in his jeans, he drew your fingers from his mouth. Both his eyes and yours followed the fine trail of saliva that stretched from his lip to the tip of your index finger, and he heard your swallow heavily at the sight.

“Frankie,” you whispered weakly.

And then his restraint abandoned him just as his mind had, and before he could think better of it, his hands were cupping your face and dragging you bodily to meet him in a hard, messy kiss.

Francisco Morales kissed like he did everything else – with intention, with competence, and with a raw, simmering fire that lingered just below the surface just waiting to be unveiled. To be stoked. To be nurtured.

The presence of that fire had your squirming in your seat, had your neck bending back on your shoulders in submission to the intensity of his assault. His thumbs, long and thick, pressed into your jaw from either side, wrenching you open, and his tongue slipped inside, immediately seeking your own with a desperation that drew a soft, muffled moan from your throat. Your own hands flew to the sweat-damp collar of his polo, and you dug your fingers into the fabric, holding him, keeping him just as fiercely as he kept you. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, pulsed between your thighs, growing sensitive and tender there when wetness bloomed.

With a low, rasping groan, Frankie broke the kiss and began tracing his prominent nose across your cheek, along the edge of your jaw, down your bare neck.

“You taste so fucking sweet, querida. Cold and…delicious and…perfect.”

Punctuating his words with hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin, his voice rough and raw and sounding like the confession had been dragged from his chest against his will, it was enough to have sweat breaking out on the back of your neck, behind your knees, at the base of your spine.

“Frankie,” you breathed, threading your grip into his hair, curling his dark brown locks around your fingers, scraping along his scalp. “Please – ”

His hands dropped from your jaw then, sweeping around the width of your hips and hauling you into his lap. Instinctually, your thighs spread to bracket his waist, the weight of you coming to rest on his spread-legged lap, and you couldn’t help but moan at the thick, hard press of him against the softness of your cunt.

“This okay, baby?” he murmured against your skin, nuzzling against the neckline of your shirt, broad palms dragging down over your ass to hold you down, press you to him.

You whimpered and felt your body going soft, warm, and pliant beneath his touch. “Mm hm!” Hips hitching, grinding against him of their own accord, you pulled his face back up to meet yours, smothering your own gasps and whines in his mouth.

It didn’t last long, however. After a few quick licks against your tongue, Frankie pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours and knocking his Standard Oil cap to the floor.

“Uh uh, need to hear the words, cariño. Won’t do anything you don’t want me doing.” Wrapping his fingers around your messy bun, he angled your face down so that your heavy-lidded eyes met his. “I’ll ask you again. You want me touching you? You want me to make you feel good?”

Your eyes drifted shut, your mind gone warm and hazy. God, the things this man did to you. Did he know how long you had wanted this? How hard you had fought against it? He couldn’t know. If he did, he would never ask such a question.

“Yes, please, Frankie,” you gasped, nodding against his hold, brushing the tip of your nose against his.

“Yes, please, what, bebita?” You could hear a smirk in his voice now, and the sound had you flushing down to the tips of your toes, a fresh rush of wetness soaking your panties as you squirmed against him.

Tucking your face against his sweaty neck, you whispered, “Please…please make me feel good.”

Frankie was on his feet in an instant, boosting you into his arms in a move that had your stomach dropping down through your abdomen both in shock and in arousal. He backed you into the table, your hips bumping into the wooden edge, and the snap of pain had a brief flash of clarity flying through your lust-filled brain fog.

“Frankie, my books – ”

The older man swore under his breath – “fuck, right” – before changing course, bringing you instead over to the arm of the peninsula that extended out into the room from the edge of the kitchen. Kicking one of the two barstools out of the way, he dropped you unceremoniously onto the countertop before dragging you down for another kiss.

He ate at your mouth like a man starved, sucking on your lips, dragging his teeth across your skin, licking against the roof of your mouth. It was wet, sloppy, and so hot, his desperation contagious, encouraging you to match him caress for caress. No one had ever kissed you like this, like the kissing was the main event rather than a means to an end. Frankie kissed like that was the entire point, and it had you melting against the counter. You were dripping through your shorts now, you were sure of it.

“Can taste all that fruit on your tongue. Sweetest thing I ever tasted,” he growled, keeping his voice low. “But I can think of at least one other thing that might be even sweeter.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Your boss was going to eat you out on his kitchen counter.

“Lean back, bebita.” The words were spoken against your cheeks, brushed into your skin by the suddenly tender touch of his lips, the rasp of his whiskers, the press of his chin. “Let me take care of you.”

You did as he asked, releasing your hold on his broad shoulders and sinking back onto your elbows. The granite was cool to the touch, sending goosebumps along your arms and down your spine, but the sensation was a welcome one after the oppressive heat of the day, the heat of his body on yours.

His palms snaked beneath the hem of your T-shirt, bunching it up onto your belly to reveal the waistband of your shorts. Hooking his thumbs into the elastic without preamble, he murmured, “Lift your hips a bit for me, baby.” Again, you obeyed without question, and with a few short tugs, Frankie pulled both your shorts and your slick-stained panties down your legs to drop to the hardwood floor.

You felt a fierce blush flare in your cheeks, spreading down your neck and chest with a speed that had you gasping for air. The ceiling fan over the kitchen table – you could feel its breeze from here, the cool rush of air instantly pulling a shiver from you as it hit your wet, swollen pussy. You kept yourself bare in the summer, finding it easier and less stressful whenever you wanted to wear a swimsuit, and laid out like this on display, thighs spread around Frankie’s broad body, the cold fan hitting your most vulnerable skin, you couldn’t help but feel a bit…overexposed. The reality of your situation hit you like a freight train, and you found yourself fighting the urge to snap your legs closed against the eyes of your boss.

It was as though Frankie could read your mind. Not a moment after the thought occurred to you, you felt his big hands clamp onto your thighs and pull them apart even wider.

“Don’t you dare try to hide from me. She’s so fucking beautiful,” he tutted, and you risked a glance at his face only to find him staring intently down at your cunt. “You been walking around my house with a naked pussy like this all summer, baby? Dirty girl.” His dark brown eyes had gone almost black with lust, his irises only a faint ring around his wide pupils, and in a gesture that seemed entirely unconscious, he darted the tip of his tongue out to wet his bottom lip. He looked utterly fascinated. Entranced. Hungry. The sight had your walls clenching around nothing, and you watched him watch that happen with an eagerness that had you moaning aloud.

When he spoke again, he was a man in thrall. “‘M gonna eat this pretty pussy now, querida. Gotta be quiet for me, okay? Don’t wanna wake Mila.”

You nodded, bringing one of your hands up to cover your mouth preemptively. This man was going to have you screaming, you just knew it. Flicking his gaze up to yours for just a moment, he grinned wickedly at the sight.

“That’s a good girl, baby,” he whispered, and then his face was in your cunt, and you felt your every coherent thought fly out the window.

If Frankie had thought that your mouth tasted sweet, your tongue like candy, then your pussy was fruit on the vine, straight from the vineyard, drenched in sunshine. It was hot, deep, and rich, earthy and tangy and drugging, like a late summer afternoon, like a hazy day in August. This had always been one of his favorite things to do with women, one of his favorite ways to please them, and never – not once – had it ever been like this. From the moment his tongue touched your delicate, dripping folds, he knew – there would be no going back from this. Not for him. He couldn’t experience something like this and not crave it every day for the rest of his life.

He started with soft, light strokes with tip of his tongue, tracing just the very edges of your lips from down near your entrance all the way to the top of your mound. Then again, slowly pressing deeper but never with any more than the faintest pressure. Even so, you responded instantly, a panting, high-pitched whine sounding behind the press of your palm over your mouth. Your hips bucked against his mouth, trying to increase the pressure, to draw him further into you, but he had one of his arms bracketing the span of your hips before you could make much progress.

Driving you firmly into the countertop, he held your knees open with the breadth of his shoulders and boldly dragged the flat of his tongue through your folds. “Keep quiet, now, bebita. I’m gonna take care of you.”

With that, Frankie felt himself begin to disappear, to melt into you from his position between your legs. Your soft thighs bracketing his shoulders, your heels digging into his back, your pussy, so soft, so hot, so sweet as you dissolved beneath his tongue. You were drooling for him, your clenching, grasping hole fluttering against his tongue every time he passed over it, your clit swollen and throbbing under the suction of his lips. You had collapsed back against the countertop now, one hand still pressed firmly over your mouth, the other burying itself in his hair, anchoring him to your body with a strength he found both surprising and wildly attractive. And with every lick, every suck, every vibration of a moan that spilled from his mouth into your flesh, he could feel you drawing higher, tighter, deeper.

He knew what you needed. He knew what would get you there.

Tucking his free hand beneath his chin, Frankie slipped one, then two thick fingers into the tight, velvety clutch of your cunt.

You shot up off the counter, your torso curling around his head, your hand in his hair fisting the strands roughly in your overwhelm. Sharp bolts of pain erupted across his scalp, but it was a welcome sensation, somehow grounding in its intensity. He smirked against your folds, sealing his lips around your puffy clit and rolling the little nub around with his tongue. At the same time, he pressed gently, insistently against the front wall of your cunt, applying steady friction and pressure with both fingertips.

A faint whimper slipped from you at that, muffled by your palm but not silent, and Frankie felt himself preen. God, he loved this. It wouldn’t be long now.

“You gonna come for me? Gonna let me feel her gush around my fingers? On my tongue? Hm?”

The hand on your mouth fell away, joining the one in his hair as you began to tremble beneath him. “Frankie,” you whined. “‘M gonna – you’re gonna make me – ”

“I know, baby, I know.” He kept his fingers right where they were, shallow thrusts, firm pressure right where you needed it most. “Just let it happen. I’ve got you.” Ducking his head back down to your clit, he resumed the combination of gentle suction and firm, long strokes that had driven you wild.

And just like clockwork, your thighs began to shake against his shoulders. Your abdomen clenched beneath his forearm. Your slick, soft walls clamped down around his fingers. A weak, breathless sound – “ah” – burst from your throat, and then you were coming. A rush of your wetness dripped down his fingers, coating his hand, pooling in the cup of his palm as you pulsed and fluttered around him, and Frankie could feel your poor, abused little clit twitching against his tongue. He worked you through it, slowing down a bit but not stopping, prolonging the torment just a bit longer. Only when your two hands buried in his hair started to shove against him, pushing him away, did he relent, and even then, it took him an extra few seconds to be willing to slip his fingers from your body.

Looking up into your face, Frankie felt a wash of joy and contentment pass over him. You were positively glowing – your skin flushed and ever-so-slightly sweaty, your hair wild and mussed, your T-shirt bunched up above your belly button, so much of your perfect softness on display. And you were grinning like a fool, your eyes showing your fatigue but your smile brighter than he had ever seen. You looked at him with a gentleness, an affection that had his heart clenching in his chest, and he was certain that his expression was much the same.

It had been years since he had felt this way about anyone, and even then, he wasn’t certain it could compare.

When you sat up and slipped from the counter, it was a slow and lazy affair, assisted by his firm grip and his steady arms to help keep you upright. The moment your feet hit the floor, you reached for his belt with a question in your eyes, to which Frankie responded, “Not tonight, querida. Tonight was about you.” You seemed somewhat disappointed by that response, but you didn’t push it. Instead, you simply pulled his head down for a kiss, which he gladly obliged. You sighed into his mouth at the taste of yourself on his tongue, and it took every ounce of strength he had in him not to take back what he had just said, to drag your hands back down to his belt buckle and allow you to proceed as you wished.

But no.

It was late. You needed to get home and get to sleep, and he needed to wash off the heat of the day before passing out in his own bed. There would be a little girl busting down his door at 7:00 AM tomorrow whether he was ready for her or not, and you would be back in this very kitchen by 8:00 eager to share a cup of coffee with too-sweet creamer before he left for work.

So, like the gentleman that he wasn’t certain that he was, Frankie helped you slip back into your little shorts, pack your overflowing bookbag, and carry your things out to your car.

You turned to him one last time before you slipped into the driver’s seat, a soft if uncertain smile playing at the corners of your lips. “Mr. Morales – Frankie, I…” You drew your lower lip between your teeth. “Thank you. For tonight.”

His heart melted at your words, the quiet, hesitating way you said them. It was a vulnerability he wasn’t accustomed to from you, you who always seemed to have it all together, you who matched his advances beat for beat, never wavering. “Don’t need to thank me, baby. I wanted to. You take such good care of me, of Mila. You deserved it.” Releasing a deep, trembling breath, he added, “And…I’d like to do it again sometime. If you’ll let me.”

“That depends,” you replied.

“Yeah? On what?”

Your soft, sweet smile morphed into something sharper then, something with more intent. “On if you’ll let me return the favor. It’s like you said…I want to.”

Frankie couldn’t have reigned in the grin that split his face then if he tried. Dropping a kiss to your forehead, he said, “‘Course, cariño. I’m not done with your sweetness just yet.”

#happypedrohours #happy pedro hours #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier smut #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

Text

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You get a glimpse into the future with Charles and Lando as fathers. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four

You collapsed breathless on top of Charles and let your eyes fall shut as the heat inside the SUV soared. Steam fogged the windows and the sounds of your boyfriends panting filled the small space.

Lando hummed as he sat back on his knees and watched his release, and Charles’, leak out from you. “Missed this pretty mess you make when we fill you up.”

“Putain, oui,” Charles agreed with a deeply satisfied chuckle. “Feels amazing.”

They were absolutely right, it did feel amazing - especially when it had been almost a week since you last had sex. It was almost a record, and not one you wanted to break anytime soon.

“We should head back,” you said despite wanting to stay exactly as you were. “We should also buy something so it actually looks like we went out.”

“Pretty sure your mum knows how much you hate shopping, and do you really want to risk being spotted?”

Lando made a fair point and you climbed off Charles so you could pull your panties back up and push your dress back down. Max’s plane would be tracked to the local airport so soon everyone would know where you were hiding. You would rather savour the peace and quiet before the paparazzi started to haunt you.

Once you got to Austin there would be no place to hide.

Sitting in the backyard of the pub, you watched the sun set over the countryside backdrop with bittersweet happiness. Luka was squealing with joy as Charles tossed him high into the air and Lando was sprawled on the grass with Lio and Mila clambering over him. It was like a little glimpse into the future you would have all too soon, but it still didn’t feel real.

“What are you doing, hiding in the corner?” Max took a seat beside you on the bench and scanned the groups that had broken off from the crowd. You could smell the gin in his drink and took a sip of your lemonade as you longed for your usual drink. It didn’t help Lando had ordered you Sprite No Sugar, you weren’t even allowed that anymore.

“Just thinking.”

“I tried that once, but it didn’t work out well for me,” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder when he didn’t get a response. “What are you thinking about?”

You sighed and shifted to face him. “Were you scared you were going to mess up Penelope?”

“No,” he scoffed.

“Right, because you are good at everything,” you nodded solemnly. “Stupid question.”

“No, it’s because I’m not her father, and I’m not trying to be her father because she already has one. So it is not the same.” Max looked to where Lando and Charles had moved onto dancing with the kids. It probably wasn’t quite dancing, but they were all hugging each other and gently swaying to the music. “You three are going to be fine. You’ve got the responsible parent, the fun one and the worrier.”

“I don’t really want to know who you think is who,” you chuckled, feeling a little better. But another thought had plagued you and there was only one person you could admit it to without fear of judgement. “This is going to sound terrible, but I wish she was a boy.”

Max’s brows shot up his face. “Why?”

You toyed with the condensation running down your glass, drawing little pictures as you spoke. “What if she wants to race? It’s in her blood but this industry is tough on girls, Max. I don’t want her going through the same bullshit I had to.”

“You’re worrying about something that is at least 15 years away, zusje. A lot can change in that time. Plus, she will have you, her fathers and a scary uncle who have been there to make sure she gets treated right.”

You looked across at the young man struggling to understand the horse-riding terms Flo was talking about. “Arthur’s not that scary.”

You laughed at the indignant sound Max made. “Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I don’t need to worry about that now. I just need to get through the rest of the season watching someone else race my car.”

“Checo’s contract is up next year, maybe Red Bull will beg you to come back?”

Your laughter caught the attention of your boyfriends and they smiled at the sound before making their way over. “Yeah, that ain’t happening, they can beg all they want - I would rather be seatless.”

Max turned serious. “They saw your data, you know, when you used my sim. It was the best time anyone has pulled from the car. It was impressive as hell.”

“Well if you want personal driving lessons I am happy to assist. I’ll even give you a family discount.”

Max snickered in amusement as the seats opposite the bench were taken. “Now that you are once again unemployed.”

“Don’t let her mother hear you say that,” Lando warned, only half joking. “She’s not unemployed.”

“Yeah,” you placed a hand on your stomach. “I have the best job in the world now as a human incubator. Me and Vick can be ladies of leisure together.”

“She prefers the term influencer,” Max corrected sarcastically.

“What’s the difference?” Charles asked.

“There isn’t any. Now will you come and dance?”

You accepted Lando’s hand and followed him to the outdoor lights that had been turned on.

“Nutty!” Mila called as she ambled towards you with grabby hands.

“So close, sweetie,” you laughed as you dropped Lando’s hand to pick her up. “Aunty. Aunt-tee.”

“Nutty is kind of accurate,” Max teased as he walked past to where Kelly was talking with Vicky. He did pause for a second as he watched you spin around with Mila and blow a raspberry onto her neck making the toddler giggle. “Zusje, you’re gonna be fine.”

You looked up over the top of her curls that were only a few shades lighter than Lando’s and found sincerity in your brother's eyes. “Thanks, Max.”

A pair of arms encircled you and Charles’ chin came to rest on your shoulder. “My dance partner has been stolen.”

Lando spun past with Penelope in his arms and you kissed Charles’ cheek. “Mila, look at Dodo, he thinks he’s a better dancer than us.”

She narrowed her eyes at her uncle dancing with the four year old and her brows furrowed before she squirmed to be put down. “Oops, I think someone is a little jealous,” Charles chuckled, pulling you into his arms while you watched with amusement as she made Lando pick her up too. “Should we save him?”

“Nah, he’ll need to learn how to deal with two females soon enough.” You placed your head on Charles’ shoulder and followed his lead, swaying gently to the music that probably demanded more energy.

“You seem happier,” he commented softly.

“It’s amazing what a little sex in a secluded forest can do for the soul.”

Charles laughed and kissed your forehead, his smile etched on your skin. “Chérie, what we did could hardly be called ‘little’ but even afterwards you still weren’t…I don’t know what the word is…you seem more like yourself.”

You smiled a little as he stumbled over the words. “I’m getting there.”

“I know you will.” He gave up the pretence of dancing and just held you as Lando extracted himself from the girls and they ran off to their mothers before making his way to join you. “We will make sure of it.”

Lando’s warm body pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you to hold Charles’ hips. “So I was thinking of names…Tulip.”

“Um, no.”

“Hear me out, it’s kind if Dutch and it’s a flower which is pretty cool-”

“Non, mon cher, keep thinking.”

“Daisy?”

You shook your head and he groaned as he was shut down again. “Daphne?”

It was your turn to groan. “No more Bridgerton for you.”

“Clover?”

You paused and his grin widened. “I’m not opposed to that one, but keep brainstorming.”

“How about Juniper?”

“Daddy, where does my name come from?” you asked in a higher pitched voice as you wrinkled your nose.”Well mummy drank lots and lots of Gin one night and that is how you were made.”

“Oh, right,” Lando laughed awkwardly. “I forgot it’s in Gin.”

“It is a good thing we have time,” Charles hummed, holding you both tighter. “There’s no rush finding the perfect name.”

Lando conceded for the moment and fell silent, and you felt content to stay cocooned until your stomach rumbled louder than the music. Your warmth disappeared as they stepped away laughing. “Come on, love. Dinner should be ready.”

Click here for the next part.

#lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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