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#swiss seb
cyberphuck · 2 years
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Once in a while I like to annoy Seb by repeatedly insisting that Quebecois isn’t French.
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protocolseben · 1 year
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anyway i am totally not just rotating a short concept ficlet in my mind:
where a few drivers drive down from Monaco to Saint-Tropez where one of the boat races is located, to see seb's fantastic wetsuit ass not even the tightest fireproofs can even give sailing form and windswept hair while sailing upon the shining blue sea
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killa-trav · 2 years
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I want seb to go back purely to see if the FIA do the special treatment for him or if they carry on trying to push him out??? Because you know they don’t like him because he points out the issues in the sport
they will carry on to push him out, absolutely no way they give him any special treatment and plus IF and big if he does ever come back as team principle it would be 10x worse bc the fia would do everything in their power to make sure seb’s team is unsuccessful
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youjustwaitsunshine · 2 years
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lake constance is literally the most beautiful place on earth
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leqclerc · 3 months
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.
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lovingvettel · 8 months
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LEWIS AND CHARLES …..
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kyogos · 9 months
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Shit formula e is back, oh how i havent missed it
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whorekneecentral · 10 months
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Old Friends
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Lance Stroll x Vettel!Fem!Reader
Warnings: big brother seb!!!, queen hanna appearance + a mick and gina cameo, lance has a crush, alcohol and the consumption of, being tipsy/kinda drunk, mentions/ insinuated that someone cheated, nipple play, oral (m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, seb teasing the two of you.
Word Count: 2,492
Author's Note: this is one of my favs so far. I couldn't write lance and not put in seb, it just wouldn't be me.
merry smutmas series
--
Lance gets an invitation to an old teammate’s place to ring in the new year but he finds himself too distracted by someone in particular to care about the ball dropping.
The invite came in the mail; a dying trade his former teammate would tell him.
A little brown envelope with silver glitter all over it, surely his girls helped him put it together. The card inside was hand written, Sebastian's scrawled cursive with pictures drawn in pencil crayon and covered in glitter at the bottom.
You're invited to the Vettel household on December 31st at 9pm for a New Year's Eve celebration.
Please rsvp by December 22nd.
With love,
Sebastian, Hanna & the Vettel children.
Lance didn't have plans, his parents were doing their own things and Chloe would be in Australia with Scotty and his family so he took his phone out and texted Seb right then.
To Seb: Hey man! Got your invite, tell the girls I said their drawings were adorable. Just letting you know I'll be there :)
It took Seb 10 minutes to reply.
From Seb: Thanks Lance! The girls say hello and thank you. We can't wait to see you.
--
Lance finds himself on the Vettel's doorstep on New Year's Eve, a bottle of some expensive Swiss wine in hand. He knocks on the door and Hanna opens it with a little boy in her arms.
"Lance!" She smiles, stepping to the side for him to come in.
"It's so nice to see you," the younger driver says, kissing her cheek before saying hello to their son.
"Please make yourself at home. Food and drinks are in the kitchen and Sebastian is somewhere around here." She tells him, rocking the sleepy boy, "you know how he is." She laughs, shutting the door.
Lance nods, smiling at her as he follows her into the house. The place is full, he showed up around 10 rather than the 9pm invite but it doesn't seem to make a difference. Everyone is all over the place; he goes over to say hello to Seb and then bumps into Mick who was there with his girlfriend, sister and her boyfriend.
He does in fact make himself at home, putting the wine in the kitchen before getting himself a drink. His red solo cup has some vodka in it and he spins around, looking for the cranberry juice. He sees everything but that.
"Need help?" A voice comes from behind him and before he turns, he knows exactly who it is. He smiles when he does turn, now face to face with her. "Hi y/n."
"Hey Lance," you smile, "what are you looking for?" You walk over, hugging the man hello.
"Cranberry juice." He tells you and you nod, walking to the fridge to grab it.
Lance watches you, admiring your outfit; a slinky silver top and a black mini skirt that frankly wasn't very family friendly but was on par with the theme of the night. He had met you when Seb became his teammate at Aston, you had a habit of following your brother around the world when you got bored of your life. You were only a year younger than Lance but he was intimidated by you.
You were just as bubbly and fun as Seb, loud and out there but in Vettel fashion, you could become broody at the snap of your fingers; something that only happened if someone fucked over your brother or at least that's when Lance noticed it.
Now if Mick had walked into the kitchen then, he'd be teasing his friend.
He was aware of the crush his friend had on his other friend. Mick had encouraged Lance to talk to you time and time again but he could never work up the courage. When he finally did, you were in a relationship and you had been since.
"Here," you hand the bottle over to him, "I put it in the fridge. It gets gross.. well even more gross when it's warm."
Lance smiles, "thanks." He pours the juice into his cup, before settling it back into the fridge. In the meantime, you had been filling a few shot glasses with what looked like tequila.
"Are you driving tonight?" You asked, downing one of the shots. Lance shook his head, "took an Uber."
"Perfect," you handed a shot over to him, picking up another one for yourself. "Bottoms up, Stroll." You tapped your glass to his and down the tequila.
Lance makes a face, clearing his throat which makes you laugh. "So, how are you? How's Fernando as a teammate?" You ask him, pouring some soda into a glass.
"I'm okay. He's pretty okay too, he's no Sebastian Vettel though."
You smiled, "that's what I like to hear. I've been keeping track, you did great this season."
"Yeah? You think so?" He asks and you nod, leaning on the counter as you take a sip of your soda. "Thanks," he smiles, taking a sip from his glass in hopes that it covers the blush on his face. "So uh.. how have you been? How's your boyfriend?"
"I'm good," you smiled, "as for him? Who knows, he's probably fucking some model somewhere."
Your words catch him off guard, Lance chokes on his vodka. Your brows furrowed, his hand rubbing at his chest as you looked at him. "Sorry, I just... I take you two aren't together ?"
"No," you shook your head, "it's whatever though."
"Sorry to hear that," he tells you and you shrug, smiling at him. You were about to say something but Gina was shouting for you, something about shots. "Excuse me," you smiled at Lance, picking up the bottle of tequila and the pack of shot glasses before heading over.
As much as Lance wanted to be sorry about your relationship ending, he couldn't be. This must be some sort of gift from god, for you two to be in the same place while you're single and he had enough liquor in him to tell you the truth.
--
The hours go by and it's inching closer to midnight with each passing second and you were dancing around the kitchen as you got a snack. A slice of pizza held between your teeth as you poured yourself a drink.
"Hey," you mumble, mouth full as you take the bite and hold the pizza. Lance smiles at you as he gets himself another drink. "Hey."
"You good?" You asked, setting your pizza on the counter. Lance nods, "perfect, you?"
"Yeah," you smiled, shimmying your shoulders as you danced your way over to the Canadian driver. He smiles, watching you. The many tequila shots added up over the night and the fact that the tiles were sticky from what seemed like spilled soda, caused you to slip and fall right into Lance.
His drink spills all over your very cute top. "Oh damn," you tsked, looking down at yourself. "Oh shoot, are you okay?" you asked, looking at him to see if anything got on him.
"I'm okay, are you?" His hands held your forearms, steadying you. "Do you need to change?"
"I probably should," you tell him and Lance nods for you to walk, his hand holding onto your arm to keep you steady. He knew the layout of the house, he had come over for dinner many times before and he had spent the night after one too many glasses of wine.
Lance walks you up the stairs, hands on your waist as you two head up. You walk into the guest room and Lance shuts the door, "are you okay ? Do you need help finding anything?" He looks at you as you sit on the bed.
You shook your head, "all good, Lance. Thank you."
He nods, taking that as his cue to leave so you could change. As he turns towards the door, you grab his hand. "Can you.. undo the knot?" You turned your back to him, pulling your hair up.
It was two single knots done up with a bow behind your neck and your mid back that kept your top up. Lance carefully undid the knot on your back, letting the strings fall to the sides and your bare back left exposed.
"The.. the other one too?" He asks and you nod, "please."
Lance is hesitant, but he reaches forward and pulls the string, undoing the knot. The silver fabric falls to the floor, the beading on it clings when it hits the floor.
Your back is still facing the driver, you've dropped your hair back down but it's abundantly obvious to Lance that he's stood in the room with you, while you were.. well, topless.
"I should.." he starts but you turn to face him, his eyes shifting down to steal a glance at your tits and he looks back up at your face - it took all but a second and he was but a man.
You smile, holding his jaw with your hand. "Stay."
"I really shouldn't." He whispers and you step closer, my chest pressed to his. "Why not?" You asked, standing on your tiptoes, lips ghosting over his.
He doesn't answer but he lets you kiss him, his cold hand rests on your lower back, pulling you flush against him. "You're drunk," he whispers against your neck and you shake your head, "I'm not."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" His eyes find yours when he pulls back and you nod. "I do."
"Okay," he says, kissing you again.
Your hands make quick work of his shirt, undone the buttons as he kisses down your neck to your chest. Lance has got an arm around you, his lips moving down towards your tits, his lips wrapping around your nipple.
The sound that leans your mouth was like heaven on earth to him; he can't wait to find out what other filthy sounds you could make.
It was much too loud downstairs for anyone to have a clue what was happening upstairs. The door was locked and he knew you had at least 40 minutes to midnight.
You push him away for a minute, the man looks at you confused as you scoot him back to the bed, letting him fall onto the soft mattress. Lance expects you to get on top of him, not sink to your knees in front of him.
"Baby-" "Shut up," you tell him, undoing his pants.
He smiles, carefully pulling your hair out of your face as your hand wraps around his cock. Lance bites back a groan, watching as your hand moves up and down slowly, your lips brushing over the tip.
"Please," he whispers and you smile, looking up at him through your lashes as you take him in your mouth. This time, he does groan out loud. "Fuck," he sighed, your hair into a make shift pony tail in his hand.
Your cheeks hallowed, head moving up and down. Lance watches your every movement, eyes fixed on you and everything you did; had he known, he would have spoken to you much sooner.
The stifled gag comes when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, eyes watering as you pull back a bit. Lance pulls you up, "as much as I want you to keep going, I wanna cum somewhere else."
"My mouth is just as good, Lance," you tell him, wiping the side of your lips with your thumb, sucking your finger. You don't miss the way his cock twitches at the action.
He smiles, "I'm sure it is, but c'mere."
You let him pull you up before you get on his lap, straddling him.
There was enough liquor in your systems to give you the courage to do things you wouldn't normally do but that you’d definitely remember. 
Thighs squished on either side of him and your arms over his shoulders. His hand slides down from your hip to your ass, giving it a little squeeze. He smiles at you, admiring you. "Now, are you gonna stare at me all night or fuck me like I know you've been wanting too?"
For the second time that night, Lance had been caught off guard by your words. "You.. knew?"
"Of course I did, your staring wasn't exactly discreet, babe." You smile, pinching his cheek before you kiss him.
Your skirt bunched up on your hips, panties pulled to the side as you sank down onto his cock.
His hand on your hip guiding you, letting you bounce on his lap, his name falling from your lips.
Lance bucks his hips and your nails drop down from his shoulders to the scratches along his back. He lets out a groan, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
Your hand tangles in his hair, pulling his head back so you can kiss him. You kiss all over his face, Lance's cheeks red not just from the lipstick you had on but from the blush forming on his cheeks; though if you asked him, he’d blame it on the liquor. 
"Fuck," you mumble, Lance's arms around you to keep you steady as you bounced on his lap, back arched slightly.
His hands squeeze at your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave behind fingerprints. 
“Mmm there,” you breathe, chest pressed to his. 
Lance's lips find your shoulder, he bites down softly when he feels you clench around him. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” He whispers into your shoulder, peppering kisses over where he had just bitten. 
Humming, your arms are wrapped around him, over his shoulders when you cum, wetness covering his cock. It takes only a few more thrusts and Lance follows behind you, the two of you holding onto each other for a while. Your legs are like jelly when Lance helps you up, letting you fix yourself.
He too get redressed and you change into a different top, fixing your skirt and your makeup before turning to him.
"11:58, we can make the ball drop." You grab his hand, pulling him out of the room with you.
Everyone was in the living room, watching the TV and chatting as they awaited the count down. Your brother notices your return, as well as Lances, who stood behind you.
"Outfit change?" Seb asks, handing you a glass.
You nod, "spilled soda on my other top." You tell him, watching as he passed a glass to Lance.
Seb hums, nodding. "And you required Lance's assistance to change?" His brow raises and your cheeks go red. "I.. I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah," Seb laughs, "whatever, y/n."
Lance smiles, his arm over your shoulder as the countdown plays; 10, 9, 8.
Your fingers interlock with his; 7, 6.
His cheek presses to yours; 4, 5.
"3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!" The people in the room cheer, friends hugging and lovers kiss. Lance leans over and you turn a bit, your lips pressing to his for a new years kiss.
"Happy New Year, Lance." You smiled, wiping the lipstick from his lips. "Happy New Year, Y/n."
---
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aruccchin · 7 months
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seb/kimi appreciation post
the fact that kimi drank most, if not all of rookie seb's drinks that were supposed to be his (because he's the new driver on the grid) to protect him,
or
when seb said kimi was the only guy on the grid who shook his hand and introduced himself at the beginning of his career, makes me think why sebastian is so fond of kimi
like even back in his toro rosso days, he was already friends (or acquaintances) with kimi
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and when kimi returned to the grid to lotus in 2012, their friendship stayed the same despite the years they spent apart
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like i just love the fact that the both of them remained good friends even when they drove for the same team for four years; it's one thing to be professional and civil, and another to get along and remain friends during the times you're both in the trenches (cries in brocedes)
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and after kimi left for alfa romeo, their friendship never wavered
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like if someone asks me if i believe in platonic soulmates, or in long-lasting friendships, I'd probably tell them about seb and kimi-- because to have a friendship that last for years despite being under a ton fuck of pressure, is something not everyone is fortunate to have-- yet they made it work.
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(misc.) notes:
- like a special mention, but when seb retired, kimi also posted in his instagram congratulating seb on a good career + retirement with a picture of them when they were in ferrari
- also, they were neighbors in Switzerland! it's something i firmly believe in because in one of the videos of F1's secret santa (2019), when gifted with a Swiss chocolate, checo goes, "vettel? kimi?" like it didn't take him a second to guess who; maybe because it's a known fact on the grid that they live near each other. i don't know about the badminton part though, but it's nice to know that they live near each other that they were comfortable being within the same neighborhood
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vettelcore · 1 year
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everyone: when seb retires he's probably gonna go MIA and we will never see him again, he's gonna become a recluse in the swiss mountains
seb every few weeks:
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stepintothelimelight · 2 months
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▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ HASN’T EVERY LITTLE CHRISTMAS WISH BEEN SENT?
┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺  ° I hope the holiday
will find you well… ✧ ⁺
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PART 2 of the Spitfire Saga
TRAILER: A blue Christmas in Monaco
(Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader (platonic), Sebastian Vettel x fem!driver!reader (platonic), 2017!f1 grid x fem!driver!reader)(SMAU + written work)
For more Spitfire content go to my account and it’s my pinned post since tumblr hates me and won’t let me link anything :)
WARNINGS: ANGST, family issues, mentions of death/ mourning, language maybe? fluff (a little), google translate french, sexism, slut shaming, complicated family relationships
fc: pinterest girls
Aaaaannnnd ACTION!
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yourusername just shared a story!
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Caption: [skiing w my favs 🩶]
Replies:
yourbestfriend1: With the boys? yourusername: with the team!! 😜😜 yourbestfriend1: Oh right I forgot you’re a pro driver now and go on free ski trips with LEWIS HAMILTON yourusername: Lewis isn’t here ☹️ yourusername: i think he’s a little salty about merc replacing Bottas so soon yourbestfriend1: did he expect them to race a driver down? yourusername: 🤷‍♀️
charles_leclerc: Why no invite for me? yourusername: sorry i don’t associate with rookies charles_leclerc: you’re a rookie as well Chérie. yourusername: sorry i don’t associate with non race winners charles_leclerc: f1 changed you 😞 yourusername: i don’t mean it charlie 🫶 yourusername: next time me n u n artie can go 👍 charles_leclerc: liked a message
lewishamilton: Sorry I couldn’t make it. Hope you had fun! yourusername: I did! See you in Feb for preseason! 🩶
yourmominsta: A little jealous! yourusername: liked a message
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You cradle your phone in both hands and stare down at the little red heart. Double tapping your own mother’s message should not make you feel this gross and torn apart inside.
You stare at your instagram chat with her for a few more minutes than you’d like to admit, then shut off the phone altogether and lay it facedown on the bed next to you. 
You’re somewhere in the Swiss alps with your performance team, taking a few days to ski before the holidays. You, luckily, have your own room in the little hotel that is somehow associated with Mercedes as a whole. 
There’s a gnawing in your chest. Should you have responded to you mom with actual words? 
Things at home have been rocky lately. 
It started the week of Abu Dhabi. Since you were already F2 world champion, you had planned to pay the fine and skip the final race of the season, since it was thanksgiving.
In all honesty, you didn’t decide that. Your mother and father did, then held an hour long screaming match with you, which ended with your mother storming out and you in tears. 
“Don’t you love us? Don’t you want to be with your family?”
“No, of course not. To her, we’re nothing.”
They’re not nothing. You wish they were nothing, that what they thought didn’t mean anything to you.
But they aren’t nothing, and you still would move heaven and earth for your family’s approval, so you had decided to stay home for Thanksgiving, whether it jeopardized your career in motorsport or not. 
Until you got the call, they had won. You were going to miss the last race of the season, possibly the last race of your career for a family dinner. 
And then Toto called and you sprinted out of Calc, turned your car on and sped to the nearest airport, shooting a text to your mom on the way.
She had not been pleased.
A voice in your head that sounds suspiciously like Seb’s tells you that there shouldn’t be a world in which you make yourself sick worrying about what you mother is going to scream at you when you get home. 
You wish you could text him. Call him, tell him what’s wrong, but you can’t, or you won’t.
You don’t want to bother him, and you already have one set of parents that hate you, you don’t need him and Hanna to get fed up with you, too. 
You can’t, however, stomach yet another family dinner when your mother, father, aunt and uncle are all ragging on you for following you dream and being a little too busy. You know they all wish you were normal.
It’s not worth it, you decide. Going home is not worth it.
So you pick up your phone and tap on Charles’s contact, realizing only belatedly that your presence at their home would be an intrusion on their mourning.
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Christmas in Monaco is … everything you remember your childhood christmas to be. Unconditional love, laughter, light.
There are times, of course, that you all feel the lingering hole that is the absence of Herve, who was the patriarch of the family. 
Pascale, bless her soul, she does her best, and seems genuinely glad that you’ve come to celebrate with them. 
“Y/n, mon amor!” she exclaims as you walk through the door, Mercedes duffel bag thrown over your shoulder. “I was so happy when Charles told me that you were spending Christmas with us!”
She wraps you in a hug and you freeze up, willing the tears that are stinging your eyes away and easing into the embrace. There is t a time in your recent memory that your own mother hugged you like this.
Pascale snaps her fingers at Charles. 
“Charles, monte son sac dans la chambre.”
He sighs and takes your duffel over one shoulder, ascending the stairs to the bedroom you will be sharing with him.
“Come,” Pascale orders you in English. “You must be starving!”
it’s a flush of hugs and chatter and drinks flowing, sitting around this table with the Leclercs. Enzo and Arthur don’t question your presence. You assume that Charles has told them you are constantly having issues with your family. 
Charles sits to your right. Pascale heads the table and Lorenzo sits across from Charles with Arthur to his right. Lorenzo asks you and Charles about the upcoming season, congratulates you in your win. 
“Charles will not stop talking about it!”
“It’s impressive!” Charles defends, his ears pinking. “She’s the youngest to ever win!”
You pat Charles’s shoulder. 
“It’s ok, Charlie. I know I’m just so amazing.”
He mutters something in French that you don’t catch, but Pascale slaps his shoulder.
“Do not use those words at my table!”
The entire table erupts in laughter and you look around. This is the first time in a long time that a family dinner has actually felt like family.
There is a mattress in Charles’s closet that you’ve slept on for hundreds of nights throughout your lifetime. It’s a little lumpy, but the trick is to lay down a comforter under the bottom sheet and that smooths out all the bumps. 
You’ve showered and changed into your pajamas while Charles makes up the makeshift bed at the foot of his own. 
He casts a dirty look at your black Mercedes t-shirt. 
“This is a Ferrari-only household,” he scolds you with no actual bite. 
“I don’t see you driving for Ferrari.”
He rolls his eyes at you and takes one of his pillows and sets it at the head of your bed. He’s pulled the sheets tight, just like he always used to.
“When was the last time you slept here?” He asks you, breaking the weird silence you’ve fallen into. 
“Um,” You set your clothes next to your duffel. “2015? I came and stayed to watch your first home F3 race?”
He was seventeen, you fifteen, and you’d been in the height of your awkwardness, and to make matter worse, he still hadn’t discovered deodorant. Altogether, not a fond experience.
He makes an affirming noise and lays down on his bed. 
You pull back your covers and he shuts off the light, and for a while it’s just the two of you breathing. He always tries to match your inhales and exhales.
“Your family,” he blurts into the dark. “Why aren’t you with them?”
Your heart squeezes. 
“I think they think I think I’m too good for them.”
He pauses.
“Repeat? slower?”
You laugh softly. Sometimes you forget his English isn’t the greatest. 
“They think that I think that I’m better than them. My mom, especially. When she was growing up I think she idolized her parents and I don’t idolize her in the same way. She’s really scared that she can’t control me like they controlled her.”
Charles mulls that over,
“And your father? “
You sigh into the darkness. 
“I don’t know. He’s always working and he doesn’t like that I have my own opinions and stuff, because he’s very … he needs to be right. 
“And then my brother, we get along when our parents are being crazy, but it’s not like we’re close. I was gone for most of our childhood and now he’s in school.”
There’s a shifting in Charles’s bed, the you hear his feet pattering on the floor. The mattress beside you dips, then he’s laying next to you, his shoulder touching yours.
“This is very uncomfortable.”
You scoff out a laugh.
“It’s not that bad.”
“It is. My bed is much more comfortable.”
“Then go back and sleep there!” 
He shifts next to you, rolling on his side then back to his back. Lying here, next to him, it’s hot. You scoot over an inch so you can still feel him but you’re not touching. 
His breaths become slower and deeper.
“I’m sorry,” He tells you just as you’re drifting off to sleep. “That you feel like your family doesn’t want you, but… “
His hand pats yours three times. 
“I’m glad you’re here. Makes it more bearable.”
You fall asleep then, and wake up with you back to him. You sit up as the cold light streams through the blinds and look over at him. His face is smushed and a bead of drool pools on his pillow. 
“Charlie,” You whisper. “Charlie, wake up.”
He sits up like you just ran an electric shock through him. His hair is smashed to the side and he used the back of his hand to wipe the drool.
You giggle.
“C’mon, I smell breakfast.”
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twitter:
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charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc: A bittersweet Christmas celebration. Will be missing you forever, Papa. x
tagged: arthur_leclerc, yourusername, lorenzotl
liked by max33verstappen and 56370 others 
view 72891 comments:
user1: Merry christmas, charles! 
user2: Repose en paix, Herve ❤️❤️
user3: The fact that Y/n spend Christmas with the Leclercs is 🤨🤨
↳ user4: fr i knew she and charles were close but … girl… he has a gf …
↳user5: Oh I bet his GF HATES her
↳user77: Yeah, AND it’s the Christmas right after they lost his father, like intruder who?
yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️
♡ by creator
↳ user65: HOMEWRECKER
↳user66: She’s actually such a skank. I don’t know why people put up with her.
user6: I know it’s been debunked a bunch of times but CharY/n would be so 😍😍
↳user7: he has a girlfriend and she’s always said he’s like a brother to her
↳ user6: if my bf had a friend as close as her I would end it
↳user7: the thing is that she has been seen out and about with Giada. They’re good friends 😳
user8: Doesn’t Y/n have her own family to spend Xmas with?
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As soon as you say ‘It’s fine’ you know you’re done for. ‘Fine’ is never fine.
He calls you, you try to avoid the question, but then he hits you with -
“Y/n.” In his disappointed/worried voice. And it works like it always does. You tell him everything - from when it started when you were in F3 to now, how you’ve driven your family away. He listens. He’s a good listener when he wants to be.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks at the end. You take a shaking breath.
Because I didn’t want you to realize I’m no good. Because you would leave me, too. Because I can’t not love them and I don’t know why.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you going home for the new year?”
You’ve been waiting on a text from your mom. That’s how it goes. Fight, spend a week in the silent treatment, one of you reaches out, you make up, then you fight again. You promised yourself that you’re not going to be the one to reach out this time.
“I don’t know.”
“If not, come to my house. We’re having a party.”
Your words catch in your throat.
“I don’t want to intrude-“
“You’re never intruding,” he assures you. “I’m your mentor, remember? I have to look out for you.”
My parents are supposed to look out for me.
“Okay,” you breathe out. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Seb.”
“Merry Christmas, Spitfire.”
Your mom texts you. She grovels. You get on a plane an hour later and go back home.
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yourusername
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yourusername: gettin ready 💪💪
F1 2018 and last semester of hs here i come
liked by mercedesamgf1, yourbestfriend1 and 817279 others 
view 5389 comments
yourbestfriend1: okay miss influencer 😍
♡ by creator
user10: Y/n on twt: 😃👹🤡😼🧌 Y/n on insta: 🩵🌃🎹🫧⭐️🪞
↳yourusername: it’s called duality babes 💋
↳user10: OMG
↳user16: her addiction to memes though 🤣 she can’t even do an aesthetic post without one
gg_giada_gianni: jolie fille
↳yourusername: c’est tout toi ❤️
↳user80: Y/n and giada saw the romance rumors and said hold my beer
user20: Why didn’t you spend Christmas with your family??
leclerc_pascale: Wonderful to spend Christmas with you, darling
↳yourusername: awwww thanks for letting me crash your xmas 🫶🫶
↳arthur_leclerc: Don’t worry, she likes you more than she likes any of her actual children
↳ charles_leclerc: Sadly true
user11: Still can’t get over the fact that she’s still in school
user12: U don’t deserve that seat
susie_wolff: Such an inspiring young woman, Y/n!
↳yourusername: Hi susie 😚
yourmominsta: So proud of you, ladybug!
↳ yourusername: ❤️
user13: why would they let a woman in the car?
↳ user14: she’s already driven it
↳ user15: and won her debut race ?
max33verstappen: Merry Christmas! I wouldn’t train too hard, since you’ll never beat me again! 😸
↳yourusername: 😺😺😾🔪
user17: I didn’t know she played piano?
↳user18: she plays off and on. Her youtube has a few videos of songs she’s covered and written
↳ user17: multitalented queen 👑
user19: Oh, to be eighteen and already signed to a top F1 team
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✧ ⁺ ⁺ oh, noel
oh, noel ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺  °
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Aaannnnnnddd scene!
DIRECTOR’S CUT: a little short and bittersweet holiday special (in august 👻)
Want to join the taglist? drop a comment below or message my inbox
🏷️: @octavikravecell218
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infamous-if · 11 months
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You asked for funny asks so hmmmm ROs as,,,,, idk cheeses or something
Blake: blue cheese...(moldy and you expect to hate it because of that but surprisingly tasty)
Orion: Mozarella (very firm, neat ball. very pleasing to look at and satisfying to the eye because of how smooth and perfect it looks)
Seven: Feta (just crumbles when you touch it. very unpredictable but tasty and it's nice in sprinkles)
Seb: cheddar (common but never fails you. reliable. nice for a simple but filling sandwich)
Victoria: Ricotta (can put a nice seasoning or olive oil on it to make it fancy. pretty to plate and have as a nice centerpiece for all your meals. she's a beauty what can I say)
G: swiss (the holes are unpredictable. every piece is different. you never know what you're going to get)
August: cream cheese. (nice, not too daring but always there when you need it. it's always the perfect cheese to add to your meal. a partner in crime kind of cheese. a cheese you know will not fail you)
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cesqdarque · 2 months
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Went to a Paleface Swiss concert this weekend and thought there aren‘t enough Metal Seb edits around. So, have this one 🤘🔥
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raceweek · 1 year
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i never know exactly what seb is doing but every few weeks my dash explodes and im just like oh guess he’s ventured out of the swiss mountains to see some cars again
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marionvonwolfstadt · 15 days
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"Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte"
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A sequel to "Swiss Chocolate"
“What got you smiling like that?” Jenson was grinning at him, one of his eyebrows raised comically high. 
It was almost the same question they asked him in the press conference. This time too Kimi had to quickly hide the ultrasound in the nook in his overalls.
“Nothing,” He mumbled and knew instantly that he sounded unconvincing. It was enough for Jens to get curious pretty quickly and start to stick his long nose where it didn’t belong.
“Oh, come on! Share with the class!” The other alpha shoved him lightly on the arm, making Kimi glare at him. 
He knew it was futile to resist, Button would just annoy him further till he got what he wanted. So he deflated a little and pulled out the worn-at-the-edge pictures. He didn’t realise how much he was cradling them between his fingers, tracing the blurry lines as if he could caress the skin of Seb’s stomach from afar.
“My puppy…” He murmured, a sheepish smile gracing his lips.
Read on ao3: here
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summerblueringo · 3 months
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you ever think about how Kimi and Seb were both at the 2016 Swiss MXGP?
you ever think about how Kimi got married a few days later, on the same day that Seb was walking around looking this delicious?
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i do. i think about it all the time. especially when my friend points out that Seb was dressed decently on Saturday and only slutted it up on Sunday
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