#sports corsets | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charles-leclerizz · 2 months

Text

🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑ peaches

🏁 Pairings : Lando Norris X fem! Reader

🏁 Warnings : none! just fluffy times

🏁 Word Count : 4.0k words (4070 words)

🏁 Author's note : This is probably the most chaotic thing i have ever written, so I hope you can make sense of it (hope being the key word) Make sure to lilke and reblog (anything is appreciated, but comments and reblogs fuel this sad little writer). The word dividers this time are also from @plum98!

🏁 Music player : This will be by Natalie Cole

“God he’s hopeless.” Oscar observed his entranced teammate stumble over his words from beneath the shade of the umbrella set up to the side of the filming area. Having finished his own media duties, he was now watching, unimpressed, as his friend attempted to use his remaining two braincells to blubber at you, like a fish out of water.

To be fair, you were also blubbering, your cheeks were red and hands shaking as you sorted through the white, glossy cue cards that had the signature McLaren logo printed on the back. You shuffled the cards mindlessly, humming under your breath after the third question was answered and Lando had maintained eye-contact with you for a minute too long, staring into the depths of your irises when the last syllable had left his lips causing your heart to stutter at a pace that had to be confirmed as medically concerning.

“U-um, right, okay so.” You attempted for the sixth time, your fingers finally finding purchase on a new piece of cardstock that contained the fourth question printed on one side in large, sans-serif font.

“Ehm-“ You cleared your throat, flipping a piece of hair over your shoulder as you looked back up at the driver who sat in front of you, enthralled by the minute movements you made. Like the arch of your brow, the dip of your lip and the curve of your collarbone that lay exposed, thanks to the strapless, silk corset you had opted to wear.

“Right, the fans want to know Lando. Who’s your favourite thing to eat?” You said with. Pseudo-confidence, oblivious to your mistake.

Lando’s eyes widened as a few chuckles bristled around the small crowd of camera technicians and other personnel that filled the McLaren media pen “Excuse me?”

“Huh-“ You blink a few times, “Oh shit- no.” You begin to wave your hands in front of your burning face, “I meant, what. What is your favourite snack, or meal to eat before a race?” You blurt out the correction.

“Oh- oh thank God. I don’t think I would have been able to say that.” Lando chuckles, despite the rogue blush that had spread from his neck to his ears, “Normally, I like to have snickers?” He offers, “Especially before a race, it’s a tradition. My dad used to buy them for me, during my karting days” Lando smiles at you, bracing his elbows on the arm rests of his seat whilst tilting his head boyishly.

You go silent for a few minutes, staring at him as your mouth opens and closes uselessly, your mind was fuzzy, and you could swear that you could hear the blood rushing past your ears.

With a heart beating wildly you plaster on a dazzling smile, “Watch the stock prices shoot up.” You joke, focusing on his shirt instead of his face, to protect yourself from his irresistible gaze, “Well Lando, I wish you the best for the race, here in Singapore later in the week.” You lift your eyes from the very interesting speck of dust on the front of his McLaren jersey to meet his hazel eyes, “On behalf of the entire Sky sports team, of course, not just me, that would be weird-“

He cocks his head at your rambling, huffing out an amused laugh, “Thank you,” he returns, as if your well-wishes were probably the only thing that made him want to participate in the race.

But that’s ridiculous, right?

The media segment had finally ended, having collected enough material for the next week in Singapore and you were thankful for it.

The few hours that you had been interacting with the driving duo was excruciating, not only from the sweltering afternoon that you found yourselves in, but also the fact that Lando was always in your line of sight, laughing at something that Oscar had said or screeching hysterically over the periscope goggles that he was struggling with. He was always there.

Some may say that it was “your job” but frankly you found it insulting. Because he wouldn’t let you do your job, you were either blushing too hard, sweating too much or your heart was about to end your existence with its erratic beating.

“I’m just glad it’s over” You pout to May, your producer. She was sweet and imaginative, always carrying around a leatherbound, flowery notepad to scribble new and creative ideas for interview styles to attempt with the 5-year-old men that you were tasked with interacting with.

“It wasn’t that bad” She comforted you, handing over a chilled water bottle whilst an on-set assistant dabbed at your forehead with a damp towel, “I honestly thought that you were having a heart attack, couldn’t even tell that you liked him.”

“She’s right y’know” A third voice burst into the conversation suddenly, which caused you to jump and clamp your hand down on the half open water bottle, sending the cool jet of water straight up the man’s nose.

“Oscar!” May shouted, holding a hand over her daisy detailed blouse with shock as she signalled to another assistant to grab a towel for the driver, who was currently holding his nostrils and attempting to plunge out the of water that had lodged itself up his nose.

“I’m fine,” He snorted whilst dripping onto the sizzling concrete and dabbing the cloth on his face, “For the record, I was worried for your health halfway through that painting task. But that was before I noticed you drooling over Lando.”

You groaned, running both hands up your face to your hairline before threading your fingers through your scalp and pressing the strands away from your forehead, “It’s not fair,” you whined, “He was distracting me throughout the whole thing. I probably look like a mess on camera,” You press the pads of your fingers against your temples.

The whole ordeal made you want to cry, or vomit perhaps both? It was hellish having to endure him staring into your soul the entire interview segment and endearingly answer all your questions with unnecessary detail.

What a jerk.

“Nah, you looked good.” A fourth voice popped in. And much like Oscar’s intrusion, it made you jump, but instead of squeezing your bottle and waterboarding the person, you shrieked and swung, as hard as you could towards the source. Making impact with the side of their face.

A very familiar face which had whipped around like a grape on a toothpick. A face that emitted a groan whilst a hand came up to soothe the quickly forming bruise.

“Fuck me” You groaned, bending over to help Lando who was still checking for any blood that may be leaking from the side of his face.

“Well, I would be honoured, but I think you did permanent damage,” He joked, standing to his full height whilst you brought your hand up to tap the purple-ish skin with a light, albeit panicked hand.

“Oh Lando,” you hissed when he clenched his teeth as you pressed against his cheek, “I’m so sorry.” You whispered on instinct, continuing to stroke the skin whilst May came up to the two of you, having recovered from the shock of you assaulting Lando and rushed to procure a bruising ointment.

You turned around quickly, thanking your friend as she handed of the white tube into your palm, not noticing that half of your hair had slapped the man in front of you in the face, “Oh come on,” you heard him garble through the clumps of hair that had made its way into his mouth.

“Shit, sorry,” You apologise for the umpteenth time in the few hours that you had spent in the close vicinity of him, “I can’t get it together for some reason.” You offer the dull explanation whilst stepping closer with a thick strip of the ointment spread between your fingers.

“Yeah” He murmured, eyes more focussed on your concentrated expression that was barely millimetres away from him, “I can tell.” His breath tickled your ear as you stood on your tiptoes and rubbed the ointment onto his face, it made you blush and realise how close your faces were. How easily you could turn your neck and graze your lips against his, or bump your noses together like a sweet, long-term couple who were used to your clumsiness.

Fat chance

You stepped back, taking one of the discarded towels from the table to the left of the pair of you, “I’m so sorry again,” you apologised, wiping away the remaining cream from your hand and moved to pick up your purse from the surface next to you.

“You could make it up to me?” He offered, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on the balls of his feet.

You cock your head, removing the hand that was rooting around in your purse- searching for your phone and let it hand limp “How?”

“What are you doing today?”

“Nothing much,” you offered, shrugging, “Not my first time in Singapore, I’ve been working with F1 for a year. Just wanted to hit some stores that I didn’t get to last time.”

It was true, last year was your first year and like the dedicated rookie you were, you holed yourself up in your room doing pre-liminary research for the upcoming days on all things related to the Singapore track along with the prestigious millionaire drivers that came attached. This was despite the long list of high-end stores, cute cafes and boutiques that you had made in your apartment back home, before the season began.

Luckily, you had managed to hit one or two of them up before the next race. But there were many remaining which you were desperate to visit.

“Let me take you out then,” His eyes glittered with enthusiasm as he unpocketed one of his hands and reached towards yours, brushing against your soft knuckles and running down the divots of your hand before dropping to his side, “Anywhere you want.” He promised.

“I have a long list Lando, and you have a race, or have you forgotten?” You tease him despite your barely inflated lungs and dry, anticipatory throat.

“Haven’t forgotten,” He argues, “I don’t have to-“ His breathe hitched as he watched you reach out to intertwine your fingers with his, gently as if your movements were a fleeting butterfly and could easily be lost as such, “Don’t have to be training the whole day- just give me your number and text me the places you want to go?”

“Okay,” You settled, keeping your pinkie fingers locked together as you stepped impossibly closer to him and handed him your card, a small glossy cardstock with the sky sports logo printed on one side whilst on the other had your name, number and “Formula 1 presenter and interviewer” centre-aligned in black font.

“Cute,” He flipped the card over in his free hand before looking up from the paper and into your eyes, bouncing his pupils over your entire face as though he was memorising each feature up close and personal, “I’ll see you later.”

You nod, biting your lip as your stand on your toes again and press your glossy lips against the scruff of his cheek, “I hope so.”

You had handed off your contact details to Lando on Tuesday. Throughout the passing days, you both had texted each other constantly, any free treasured minutes in your schedule would be spent chatting with the other. It was now Thursday and still he had not brought up the date.

The “not-date”

Thankfully, you had managed to check off nearly half of your destinations on your list and the bags in your hotel room were evidence of such. Odd, thick shopping bags that were brightly coloured and bent in ways that could merely hint at their high-fashion origins, had taken over the bedroom, slowly pilling up by the dozen.

You stumbled out of the sleek, metallic elevator and winced with each step you took through the 20th floor foyer and down the corridor, each light-wood slab of the miscellaneous rooms had been allotted a cluster of numbers that morphed together in your tired eyes. It had been nearly four hours of running around, collecting information and small video snippets from all the teams as the entire PR team was rushing to put out the last round of pre-race content.

Your stiletto heels clicked to a stop when you finally reached your door, the electronic card reader waiting patiently for you to tap the key on its matte black surface. You rooted around in your purse, holding it open with one hand as you searched for the damn card, fearing that you may need to bother the sweet receptionist for another duplicate key.

Whilst looking around in your seemingly endless bag, your phone vibrated once...twice...thrice.

You unsheathed the device and clicked on the notification that popped up on your lock screen. Lando. He had left a small string of messages that made your heart flutter as though cupid had just struck you.

You looked pretty today.

Not that I was stalking you- I saw you when you came to garage.

I’m free for the rest of the day, can I take you out?

On a date. If you want.

You smiled to yourself, reading the messages repeatedly, imprinting them in your mind as you felt your blood swim through your arteries and blossom a deep red blush across your cheeks.

“Is it possible for someone to be this beautiful?” A familiar British accent sneaked up behind you, caressing the skin behind your ears as a minty fresh breath followed suit.

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask yourself.” You teased, turning on your heel to rest your back against the door, to face the handsome man that was currently grinning down at you. You clutched your phone to your chest, soothing the fluttering butterflies that escaped your stomach to scuttle throughout your body, suddenly, you weren’t very tired anymore.

“I would rather ask you,” He smirked, reaching to tuck away a rogue piece of hair that had escaped from your ponytail, his finger lingered on your nape, allowing his entire hand to cup the back of your neck and ghost the pads of his fingers across the expanse of your skin.

“Hi Lando,” You smile at him, leaning into his touch.

“Hey.” He whispered, more focused on analysing the tantalising swoop of your eyelashes and sleek slant of your nose. As one does.

“You ready to go?” he tilted his head at you.

“Well, I have an idea about where I want to go with you, I just need to change and re-do my makeup.”

“Okay, you want me to wait out here?” He offered, watching you as you brought your purse between your bodies, flitting through the mess within to finally, triumphantly present the room key. He giggled at the victorious squeal that escaped your lips as you brushed the card against the reader and skipped into the room.

“No, it’s fine. You can come in, just don’t judge the amount of shopping.” You warned him, already cautiously stepping over the French boutique bags that greeted you.

“It would be hard to fit my judgement into the room, there’s so much stuff,” He commented beginning to pick up various bags and place them onto any free surface as an attempt to clear the walkway.

“Ha Ha,” You laughed sarcastically, twisting your neck to stick your tongue out at him, “Let me find something to wear,” You bent down, searching through the few bags that sat on the bay window sofa.

“Do you have the directions to the place?” Lando inquired, watching you with interest as you held a small, teal bag over your head and went over to the other side of the room to search for shoes.

“Yeah, it’s a frozen yoghurt cafe, 0 sugar and vegan, I figured it will be good for you. Since you’re on a strict diet.” You shrugged, unaware of his touched expression. He was enamoured with you from the first time that you had sat down in front of him, stuttering over your questions despite your once cool, calm demeanour with his teammate. But the fact that you had considered his diet requirements was like the cherry on top.

“Oh- you didn’t have to. I could always break away from the diet.” He half expected you to jump at the opportunity to go someplace else.

“No no, it’s fine. I heard such great things about this cafe. I’m excited. Plus, I would’ve gone with or without you,” You snickered, walking towards his place, perched on the edge of your freshly made bed. Apparently, room service had conveniently avoided your shopping but had happily tackled the other features of the area.

“If you say so,” He relented bundling the soft comforter in his fists to stop himself from looping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. Luckily, you rested your arms on his shoulders and intertwined your fingers together at the start of his spine, burying them in his hair and twisting the curly strands with one digit.

“I do say so,” You nodded your head sharply, before retracting your arms and began to walk towards the bathroom, “Be right back,” you promised, slinking through the washroom door.

You pushed the sliding slab shut and flicked on the warm yellow light before pulling out the compact package of tissue paper, held together with a white, cream silk bow.

The paper crinkled loudly as you undid the ribbon to reveal the milky white dress that lay nestled within the packaging. A long, floor length number that contained embroidered butterflies on the final organza layer, layered on top of a chiffon slip with a middle veneer of muslin. The empress waist had folded over fabric that sinched in the silhouette along with emphasising the carmen neckline that sat sultry with the help of thin, pearly straps.

You slipped on the elegant dress, smoothing over the divoted attire whilst pulling and pushing at the material until you were satisfied. Your hair flowed freely along your back as you leaned forward towards the mirror, touching up your concealer and swiping generous amounts of your glossy, lip balm before slipping on a pair of black, matte kitten heels.

Finally, you were ready.

The door squeaked open as you stepped out, short heels clicking on the marble floor as you stopped around the bend of the wall, calling out for him, “Lando?”

He turns towards your voice curiously, floppy brown hair bouncing with his movements, “Yeah?” He answers, standing up and pocketing his phone.

“I’m ready,” You reveal yourself to his gaze, smiling happily when his mouth pops open and eyes widen substantially.

“Wow, you look amazing.” His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your outfit, biting his lip whilst walking towards you, “Glad I asked you out when I did, otherwise I would be in trouble.”

“Yes, you are quite lucky,” You agree, patting his chest as you adjust the collar of his shirt, “Let’s go?” You offer, hooking your arm with his by the elbow.

He looks down momentarily before smiling toothily, “Let’s” He nods and opens the door.

Lando held the large cup of frozen yogurt in his palm, itching to dig the small plastic spoon into the tall peak of cold, white cream that was covered in melted dark chocolate, “You got the photo?”

“Yes, sorry,“ You tuck your phone back into the inefficiently small purse that hung from your shoulder, “You taste it first, I feel like you’ll burst if you don’t” you chuckle at his expression as he fills the spoon with the cold dessert and places it in his mouth, he groans pleasurably as his eyes roll back.

“Holy shit that’s good.” He compliments, holding out the paper cup to you.

“I would hope so, looks like you just orgasmed,” You take your own plastic spoon and taste the treat, “Never mind, your reaction is valid, it’s so good.” You hum.

“I know right?” He continues to eat, keeping his right hand steady as he shuffles around you from your left to the other side, so that his free hand could intertwine with yours.

“I could’ve just moved?” You giggle, swinging your hands up and down as you lean to take another bite.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” He shrugged, licking his spoon free of the remaining frozen yogurt as you continued down the street and across the street towards Pearl Hill Park.

You both continued to chat animatedly, taking bites of the sweet yogurt between the two of you as you enter the park and walk down the foot path, admiring the large canopying trees and delicate flower’s that littered the shrubbery which lined the walkway.

“You’ve never had a boyfriend?” Lando clarifies, his eyes bugging out with shock.

“I mean, guys have liked me, and I’ve had crushes. But boyfriend? Never had anyone that serious,” You confirm, unbothered with his reaction.

“How?”

“I don’t know! I never asked and I never have got asked,” You defend your single status.

Lando nods, squeezing your hand in his as he kicks a small pebble beneath his feet, “But you’re so beautiful.” He murmurs penultimately beneath his breath.

“What?”

“What?” He looks at you, surprised that you heard him.

“Nothing,” You dismiss, your chest warming with the compliment, the sensation made you giggle to yourself and press your lips together.

The skin of your lips seemed dry against one another, causing you to stop walking, pausing the lazy travel around the man-made lake that you both were taking and remove a tube of flavoured lip balm from your purse. Lando pauses, watching you press the tube of the glossy moisturiser and lay a generous amount on your lips before twisting the top back on and dropping it back in your bag.

“What flavour is that? It’s so bright.” He snorts at the light pink coating that covers your mouth.

“Oh, is it too much?” You go to remove your compact mirror before you feel Lando hold your wrists gently, stopping you.

“No, you look perfect,” He assures you, softly laying his thumb beneath the swell of your lip and pulling the skin down slowly, “I was just curious of the flavour.” He muses, supressing a grin at your dazed expression as you fight away the feeling of your eyelashes fluttering closed in anticipation for his lips on yours.

“Um..I think it’s peach?” You offer.

“Really?” He snorts, moving his face closer to yours, analysing your face for inhibitions towards his actions, only to be met with your rouge ears and innocent doe eyes looking at him, “Let me try,” He whispers, finally bringing his face closer to yours, allowing his breath to fan over your slightly parted lips. You finally connect your mouth together, one of your hands loops around his neck whilst the other hold his wrist as you savour the sweet taste of his lips against yours.

It was as though the blossoms that surrounded the two of you had begun to bloom within your mind, bursting with new life and innocence as the water rippled in the summer sun, casting glowing streaks against your faces like crystalline diamonds shimmering beneath a spotlight. This moment seemed to paint itself on the canvas of your mind, permanently memorised to never be forgotten.

Lando pulls away all too soon, resting his forehead against yours, “I can agree-“ He pants, “That it tastes like peach” he pulls away minutely to grin at you.

You grin back, licking your lips slowly, “Yeah, I guess it does.” You agree, pressing your mouths together again, desperate for the sacred dopamine that he filled you with. He smiled against your lips before you became conscience of your surrounds and broke apart. His eyebrows furrowed but nevertheless he caressed your cheek, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin beneath his finger.

Lando stepped back, taking your hand in his again to resume the slow, lazy steps around the lake, “You’ll watch that race then? From the garage?” He asked hopefully, looking down at you from your position on his shoulder.

“Peach?” He called out.

Your heart grew three times bigger at the nickname as you lifted your head from his body and looked at him earnestly, “Of course, I’ll be there in the orange.”

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion unavailable...over

463 notes · View notes