Teastoriesandforgottentime - Untitled

Once a Prema boy, always a Prema boy🥰

I will NEVER shut up about this

Keep me Close

Past Jules Bianchi x reader, platonic Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: angst

Request: yepyep finally got me some angst things to write

Summary: Charles's new girlfriend can't understand why he's so attached to the reader

Warnings: talks of death, name calling, a table gets flipped

Notes: I definitely didn't cry writing this at one point. Also, no hate to Alex!! I know hardly anything about her, but I know her and Charles are currently together, and it fits the Timeline, so please bear with me.

Masterlist

Your love for Jules was something you find in fairy tales. It was beautiful, and both of you felt connected on a level deeper than anything imaginable.

It started when you were both merely kids. You were six, and he was eight. The two of you had met at the wedding of a mutual friend. Dressed in nice clothing, he'd marched right up to you and claimed to be a knight looking for a princess.

You were inseparable after that. It was like you'd found your soulmate.

When you turned eighteen, Jules had immediately proposed. And when you countered by asking if you were both too young, he said, 'Why waste time when I know I'll love you forever?'"

You'd gotten close with Leclerc family. Specifically with Charles since Jules was named godfather. He spent a great deal of time with you and Jules.

Then 2014. Everyone was sure Jules was going to get a seat with Ferrari. It would be a crime if he didn't.

You remember kissing him, good luck. The last feeling of his lips on your before getting in the car.

You remember telling him to be safe with the rain; that you love him dearly. He replied with his signature wink and an 'I love you more and I always am.'

Then everything stopped. The world seemed to no longer spin. Time refused to move forward as you willed it to go back.

It couldn't be real. There was no way it had happened. You still thought that as you sat at his bedside faithfully for months. There wasn't a world you wanted to live in if it didn't have Jules.

Charles was similarly devastated. He'd lost someone dear to him. The boy spent all his free time sitting with you in the hospital. Even bringing around food that Pascale had made to keep you alive. Something you didn't want to be at that moment.

The bond you'd formed with Charles during this time is hard to explain. There is nothing romantic. He's family despite the age gap not being that large.

He was, and is still, family. You'd promised to still take care of him despite the loss of Jules, and he promised to do the same in his stead.

The start of the 2024bseason brings on an interesting turn of events. Charles had split with his girlfriend before the new year and is now with his new girlfriend Alex.

You like her. She's very sweet as far as you've been told. But there is something there that makes you worry. You just blame the fact that you want the best for Charles.

The first time you met her was at a family dinner. Charles brought Alex with him to introduce her to everyone.

You were actually the first person he introduced her to. You felt honored, but there was something behind her eyes that you couldn't quite pinpoint. But you kept it to yourself and made friendly conversation.

The next time you saw her was when she dropped by the Leclerc family home unannounced. The position she caught you in wasn't a bad one, but it probably didn't look good to her.

Charles had a rough race in Monaco, as per usual, and was laying with his head in your lap while you ran fingers through his hair. It's the same thing Jules had done when Charles was a child after a bad Karting race.

Alex definitely didn't look pleased with you. But she managed to put kn a smile and say hello.

It was awkward. Especially after Charles and her went into another room because you could hear them talking in hushed whispers.

Your fingers find the chain with your wedding ring on it. Your lips press against the cold metal as you hold the ring to your mouth. "I hope I'm doing this right, Jules. It's hard without you here."

The last time you saw Alex was at a birthday party. Your birthday party. Something you don't like having after Jules because he was the one who always made the day special.

Charles is a stubborn man though and decided it was necessary. Partly because this is his way of remembering that you are alive and with them, but it also gives him and excuse to drink and dance.

It wasn't anything massive. Or at least - not a massive as it could have been. There were a good number of people crowded into your Monaco home. The food is good, and the music is better. It definitely felt like a party Jules would have dragged you to in your youth.

It's not long until Charles appears at the door with Alex in tow. He comes to you, and you embrace him as usual. The smile on his face makes everything worth it. despite having to deal with a party for a few hours.

Pierre also finds you and starts up conversation. The three of you fail to notice the fourth becoming increasingly agitated.

A loud crashing sound pulls all of their attention. Alex flipped over the table in her agitation and is now sending chills down your spine with the look on her face.

"Why are you so determined to be some kind of homewrecker! Why can't you just stop being a creep to Charles and let us live in peace!" She screams. It hits your mind like a shadow. The world fades away, and your thoughts are filled with the doubts you have daily.

Tears fill your eyes, and your body goes rigid. "I'm Charles' godmother. Y/N Bianchi. I am no homewrecker." You choke.

Charles and Pierre take a protective step in front of you. "Get out!" Charles' voice drips with venom. Alex looks stunned. She doesn't move even as Charles shouts at her. "Nobody gets to speak like that to my family! Get out!"

Then she runs. Avoiding the gazes of disapproval.

Charles spins around and places his hands on your shoulders. His eyes scanning your face to assess the damage.

"I'm so sorry that happened. You're amazing. Always have been. And anyone who says differently is a fucking asshole."

Even through the tears, she smiles. Jules couldn't have left her in better hands.

Licence to Thrill || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: You give Charles the ride of his life when he’s running late to an important event. Warnings: 18+ only, illegal driving, sexual innuendos, fluff WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || Based on this request

“No, no, no, shit.” Charles’ curses woke you up and you rubbed your bleary eyes as he tossed the blankets back, cold air rushing over your skin. You immediately missed the warmth of his body where he had been spooning you all night and grabbed your phone to see the time.

“Fuck!” Charles growled as his little toe caught the corner of the bedpost, again, and you leapt up to get dressed too. “We are so late, mon amour.”

He had been looking forward to the charity football game all week and the prospect of missing the kick off made him clumsy in his rush. While you pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt he struggled to get one leg into his team’s black football shorts, falling twice as he lost his balance. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmured as you curled an arm around his waist to steady him. “I shouldn’t have kept you up so late.”

He grabbed a shirt before sparing a moment to press his lips to your forehead. “Don’t be, I enjoyed myself very much.”

“Oh, I know, and I’m pretty sure my neighbours know it too,” you teased as you took your shirt from his hands and tossed him the correct shirt with his name and driver number on the back. “Come on, get that sexy ass moving.”

He laughed as you squeezed his butt when he bent down to tie his shoes. “Hands off the goods, honey, I’m not a piece of meat.”

“Keep telling yourself that, handsome,” you shot back as he made for the stairs and you locked the house behind you.

“Shit,” Charles groaned as he hit his head on the steering wheel. “I am stupid.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, leaning over to see the dashboard. “You forgot to put petrol in again, didn’t you?”

“I was in a rush to get here last night,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’ll call Arthur to come get us.”

“I can take us.” You opened your handbag and found your keys as well as the remote for the garage door.

“Wait, you drive?”

“Of course I do,” you laughed as you climbed out of the Pista.

He quickly hopped out his side to follow. “I didn’t even know you had a licence. Why am I only just learning this now?”

“You never asked,” you said with a shrug, “and you always offer to pick me up.”

“Because I thought you didn’t drive.”

You giggled as you hit the remote and the door lifted up. “What did you think was in the garage?”

“Storage? Chérie,” he sighed as he followed you down the driveway that passed by the front door that he had a key for and he pointed to it. “I’ve never come in your backdoor, how should I know?” You cocked an eyebrow up with a smirk and he rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, just so you know, the garage is where I park my car.” You waved a hand to the opened door and Charles whistled as he saw the gleaming black hood catch the morning sun. He automatically started walking to the drivers side and you tutted at him. “Don’t even think about it, love. That’s my baby.”

“But-“

“No buts, if you want to make it to the match on time you ride shotgun.” You grabbed his shoulders and turned him in the direction of the other door and he grumbled as he started to walk around. “If it’s any consolation, you can pick the music.”

The door creaked open and slammed shut behind him before he groaned and you laughed as you climbed in to see him holding his phone, the Spotify app useless with the old radio. “Forgot to mention, she only takes cassette tapes.”

“You know you can update the stereo,” he pointed out as he opened the glove compartment and rifled through the stacks of old cassettes. “Fleetwood Mac. Michael Jackson. There’s nothing from this century.”

“Hey, don’t hate on them. They are classics and this is a classic car.” You turned the key and grinned as he dropped the tape at the sudden roar that was deafening in the small garage. “You might want to buckle up, baby.”

“Why are there racing harnesses in here?” he asked as he pulled the five point harness over his shoulders and bucked it in.

“You probably shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” you admitted as you shoved a random mixtape into the radio and turned the volume dial up.

The kick drum intro to Ram Jam’s  Black Betty thumped from the speakers as you pushed down the clutch and put the ‘70 Dodge Charger into gear. The full force of the V8 engine drove your body back into the seat as the car hurtled forward and burst into the sunlight. Charles latched onto the handle above his door and while the other hand pressed against the dash and his knees tucked up like he was preparing for impact.

“I’m trying not to be insulted here,” you huffed as you pushed his knee down between shifting gears. “I may not have a super licence like some people, but I have never crashed.”

A terrified scream erupted as you burst out of the driveway and pulled the handbrake, kicking the back wheels out as you drifted into the quiet suburban street and took off with a trail of burnt rubber. Your neighbours wouldn’t be too happy but you didn’t care as long as you got Charles to where he needed to be on time.

You spared a glance over to your boyfriend and saw the whites of his eyes as they stared at the road ahead and his knuckles turned white from the tight gripe he held. “Chérie, road, road, cars, look, traffic, look at the road. The road!”

He turned to you wide eyed as you approached the busy intersection at full speed before hitting the brake. You held his eye contact as you shifted down the gears before coming to a gentle stop at the lines in front of the traffic light and he exhaled in relief.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he said but the words were warm and his smile was one amazement as the adrenaline hit him. His hands tugged the harness until it was snug and he settled into the seat as you waited for the light to turn green. “I’m ready this time.”

“Good, because we won’t make it if I stop for every red light.”

“Wait, what?” The light changed and you put your foot to the floor as Charles chuckled nervously. “You’re joking right?”

“If it helps, sure,” you shrugged, weaving in and out of the cars and ignoring the angry honks of their horns. “Do you think I could take your car for a spin?”

“Absolutely…not.” 

You narrowed your eyes as he got your hopes up and almost missed the turn that would shave a few seconds off the travel time. Any normal person would have struggled to stay upright in their seat but Charles’ line of work made it easy for him to tense his abdominals and neck so he barely moved as the mass shifted and the back wheels drifted behind the turn.

“What if I let you drive this?” you bartered as the road straightened out and you reached speeds high enough to instantly lose your licence and the car. 

“Oh, mon amour,” he murmured as he chewed his bottom lip and he debated the offer before looking at his watch. “If you get me there before kick off you have a deal.”

He should have known you wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity very few people got and the smile you gave him gave him pause as he wondered what he had just got himself into.

“It’s going to be tight,” you muttered as you saw the time, just catching the hint of a smile on his face. “But doable.”

Charles watched with fascination. He saw your eyes scanning the road far ahead, making plans and contingency plans for the hazards that you might face. All the while you blindly shifted up the gears with your feet working in tandem, releasing the accelerator as you double clutched for a smoother transition. 

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” he chuckled in disbelief as you took a corner with enough speed that he knew there had to be some g-force working against you, but you didn’t even notice as you gripped the wheel tight and exited the apex without slowing down.

“I’m pretty sure if you were dreaming we would be doing something else, not driving.”

“I’m not sure now, I’m finding this extremely hot. You could pull over and make that dream come true?”

“And miss out on driving your baby? No way.” You shook your head with a laugh before biting your lip. “It is tempting, but I have to think of the children. They would be very disappointed if you didn’t show up for the match.”

“And Pierre, I don’t think he would forgive me.”

“I said children didn’t I. Oh, shit.” You ripped the handbrake and did a 180 as you missed the street you needed. “Stop distracting me.”

The stadium was just up ahead and you could see the parking lot on the other side of the overpass but there was only one road to get there. Unless you wanted to drive the long way around but then you would be late.

“Amour, that’s a one way street,” Charles pointed out as you headed to the underground pass. “You’re going the wrong way. There’s traffic cameras here too.”

“You’re right,” you huffed before twisting the wheel a little to the left then all the way to the right. The suspension would not like the pressure you were putting it under but she spun around and you shoved the car in reverse and draped your arm across Charles’ chair as you looked over your shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to get a fine.”

The engine roared inside the tunnel as you pushed the limits of the gear and you swerved through the lanes. You were grateful that it wasn’t rush hour traffic so there were only a few drivers angry with your recklessness before you burst out of the tunnel, through the intersection and into the parking lot. 

The stadium was quiet since the event was only televised but there were still lots of media crews at the entrance and they all turned your way as the back of your car careened towards them. You reached the last row of empty parking spaces and pulled the handbrake, whipping the front around and coming to a stop beside the gate entrance.

“Twelve seconds to spare,” you laughed as you drummed your fingers on the steering wheel. “That will be twenty euros and a five star rating, s’il vous plaît.”

“Just enough time to change my shorts,” he joked as he pushed his door open.

“Good thing they are black this year,” you retorted with a laugh as you tossed him his boots he would have forgotten. “Go, I’ll meet you inside.”

He blew a kiss as he took off at a jog and waved to the stunned reporters who were still recording.

“Is that Y/N?” A female presenter asked her male colleague.

“Leclerc’s girlfriend?” He laughed and shook his head. “No way. This has to be some stunt.”

You drove more sedately to a spot a few spaces away where you spotted Pierre’s car and parked beside it before killing the engine and letting the silence settle. Adjusting your mirror, you saw everyone still watching, waiting to see who it was being the wheel.

“I told you,” the woman gasped as she elbowed the man. “It was her! Do you have a moment?”

“Sorry, games about to kick off,” you apologised as you rushed past and into the stadium just in time to see Charles faceplant. “Ohh,” you gasped along with the others watching before cupping your hands around your mouth. “Yellow card ref!”

“He tripped over himself,” Kika whispered as she joined you.

“Oh I know, I just thought he could use a little 15 minute rest.” You grinned as you gave her a kiss on the cheek. “He’s had a rough morning.”

“What happened?”

“He stubbed his toe.” Your phone started vibrating and you pulled it out of your pocket to see your twitter notifications blowing up. “Huh, that was quick. The devil works hard but F1 fans work harder.”

You showed her the thread which started with a short clip of your car thrashing it down the street, Charles holding on for dear life. You chuckled as you saved it to show him later, knowing he would get a kick out of it too.

“Yeah, I don’t think that was the stubbed toe, hun…” she hummed.

“Meh,” you shrugged, pocketing the device so you could concentrate on the game.

Charles and Pierre’s team won the match and you climbed over the baluster to jump down to the grass as the pair jogged over. Charles swept you up with a proud grin as he spun around.

“Well played, handsome,” you praised as you brushed his sweaty hair back into place before helping yourself to a quick kiss.

“Wouldn’t have made it without you, chérie.”

Pierre clapped him on the shoulder and nodded his head to the reporters waiting for a post match interview and he reluctantly placed your feet back on the ground.

“Well, this should be interesting,” you muttered to Kika as you waved to the camera that remained pointed at you until Charles said something.

“Just how bad was your driving?” she asked curiously.

“Bad? Oh it wasn’t bad,” you chuckled. “My driving is actually very good, if I do say so myself. It was just a little faster than he was expecting.”

She curled an eyebrow up. “He goes 200 mph for a living.”

“Yeah, funny right.”

Charles was still catching his breath when the microphone was held in front of him and could see videos of his entrance playing on the big screens around the stadium. Pierre’s eyebrows disappeared under his hair in surprise as he saw the black Charger spinning to a stop and his friend climbing out.

“No fucking way,” Pierre laughed as he looked back at you laughing with his girlfriend. “That’s awesome.”

“I know right,” Charles said with a proud smile. “You should have seen it, she was going full on sideways through these corners, it was insane.”

“So, Charles, I'm sure this comes as no surprise,” the reported began, “but we have some questions about your girlfriend, after the entrance she made.”

“You have some questions?” He threw his head back and laughed. “I have some questions! I had no idea she could drive like that.”

“Her father is a rally driver. Did you really never suspect anything?”

“My mother is a hairdresser, doesn’t mean I am good at cutting hair. Why do you think I wore a bandana during lockdown? I butchered it that’s why.” He brushed his hair back that had thankfully grown back after his terrible attempt and laughed to himself. “So no, I didn’t assume she could drive because her father can.”

The interview finally turned to the football match and then a little bit about the upcoming race before Charles was able to escape. He held up a finger and mouthed one minute as he made a detour to the few fans that had been invited. He talked with some of them, shaking hands and signing autographs.

You wolf whistled loudly as Charles took his shirt off and he grinned without even having to check who it came from before he gave it to a fan and waved goodbye. You knew you were staring as he jogged back and you knew you weren’t the only one, but he only had eyes for you as he gave you a wink and draped his arm over your shoulder.

“How cool is that shot,” he said as he looked up at the screens still playing a rotation of highlights from the game and your arrival. “There’s just one way to make it better.”

“Excuse me?” you dared him to criticise your driving but his charming smile only grew wider.

“Do it in a Ferrari.”

Get well soon! Always drink your water 💗

I also want to say

I LOVE YOU AND YOUR FICS HOPE WE GET MORE DEVIL READER ✨️

Fallen (Bonus Scene) || CL16

The fireworks had ended, the songs had fallen silent, the New Year celebrations were almost over. The yacht had been the centre of much of the excitement but it too was quiet with dawn’s approach. 

A blanket draped over your shoulders before Charles took a seat beside you at the bow, your legs dangling over the side where the anchor disappeared into the depths. 

“I suppose I will have to make a resolution,” you said as you pulled the blanket closer and shuffled into his side. “That’s a human thing to do, right?”

“Very, but then you have to give up after a few weeks. That’s how it goes,” he chuckled, leaning closer he brushed his lips gently over your temple. “How is your head?”

“Sore.” You automatically reached for the bump and hissed when you felt the tender bruise on your forehead. “I’m not doing it as much though, that's progress.” You were still getting used to having to do menial tasks like opening doors and the bruises that littered your body showed just how hard the habit of apparating was to break. 

“You’ll get used to it, mi diablesse.”

“Sooner rather than later, it’s not like I have all the time in the world anymore.” You abandoned the blanket and climbed onto Charles’ lap since his body was much better at warming yours. “What is your resolution going to be then, champ? What shiny trophy do you want now?”

His arms settled around you with a sigh of contentment. “I don’t know,” he admitted, having spent more than a decade trying to get to right where he was, a Formula 1 World Champion. “I never thought about what would happen after I won.”

“I guess you could just win it again.”

He chuckled but his shrug was unconvincing. “Maybe I can help someone else win. Arthur just needs an empty seat.”

“I do have a little experience there.”

Charles' lips parted but he managed to curb his curiosity before he could ask about it and it was probably for the best. “I’m thinking less along the lines of threats, more like taking  a step back so he can have his shot. He did it for me when we were younger, I figure I owe him that.”

“With a heart like that, you could have been an angel.”

The tide changed and the yacht swung around until you were facing the east, the sun rising at your back and Charles pointed to the horizon where the last star remained. Hues of purple bled to orange and you smiled at the brilliant ember burning among it. Suddenly the star began to fall, cascading from the heavens until it disappeared from sight and you nearly fell from the boat as you hopelessly reached for it.

“Shhh, hey, it's okay,” Charles cooed as he cradled you to his chest. “It’s a falling star, you’re meant to wish upon it.”

“But it’s the Morningstar, my star. How am I meant to find my way home?”

Charles cupped your face in his palms and tipped your head back to look at him. “Close your eyes,” he said, kissing your lips when you obeyed. “Now make a wish.”

grown up (pg10)

pierre x leclerc!reader , slight lando x leclerc!reader

summary: you’ve always had a crush on your older brother’s best friend, little do you know he’s crazy about you too

notes: !! contains smut, minors dni !! this trope is too good to not do with pierre, there’s a tiny age gap here (3 years) also i kept pierre in alpha tauri

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of physical violence (not against reader), smut, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving)

Pierre Gasly was a forbidden fruit. As kids he was constantly attached at the hip to your older brother Charles, the two became partners in crime whilst karting together, and had stayed thick as thieves even in Formula One.

You practically watched each other grow up. You were in the stands as he made his way through karting all the way up to Formula One, driving for Toro Rosso, then Red Bull, and now Alpha Tauri.

He was always there with your brother for special events. He watched as you not only got older, but as you matured. He watched as you grew into your figure, curves appearing in all the right places. What was once a little kid, constantly chasing her brother around had turned into a beautiful woman, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially not with your overprotective brother keeping you close.

It seemed Charles had also noticed that you’d grown up, or at least noticed all of the new male attention you’ve acquired. He keeps an arm over your shoulders in the paddock, sending a glare to any guys who would give you a once over.

As hard as he tried though, he couldn’t stop you from dating the few guys that had caught your attention as well. Pierre remembers them all.

The first was clearly looking for something casual, the relationship ending with you crying on Charles’ shoulder.

The next was one that ended up cheating on you. You had to make Charles promise that he wasn’t going to try to fight him, but you didn’t have any control over Pierre. You asked him about the bruises on his knuckles when you saw him next, holding his hands in yours and inspecting the damaged skin. He wouldn’t tell a soul but he felt his heart stutter as you held his larger, rougher hands in your small soft ones. When he came out of his you-induced trance, he just shrugged claiming the bruises were from training.

You had actually thought it was going to work out with the most recent one. He was sweet, he was loyal, the only issue was he was going off to university while you were traveling with Charles. The long distance made it difficult, the two of you had a mutual break up because of it.

Pierre hated that he had to watch you date all of these guys that just seemed either incompatible with you or just took advantage of you. Or both. And he was forced to watch from the sidelines.

It was time for the Monaco Grand Prix, which meant that it was the one time of year you didn’t have to travel anywhere. Charles had opted to forgo the hotel that was offered, instead choosing to stay home with you. He invited Pierre to stay with the two of you as well, offering his best friend the spare guest room.

It was strange having Pierre so close to you at first. You would bump into him on your way to the bathroom, make your breakfast together in the kitchen, share a car to and from the track. You quickly became used to having his presence around though, enjoying the shared breakfasts, and midnight chats in the kitchen.

The race had ended with both boys in the points, though neither on the podium. You all went out to celebrate though, the three of you and most of the other drivers with their girlfriends.

Pierre spent the night watching you from afar, dancing with Lily, then with Carmen, then back to Lily. The drink in your hand sloshing around in the glass as you danced. He was happy to watch you dance with the girls, a bright smile on your face as you twirled around with them. It wasn’t until he saw Lando reach for you that he started to feel uncomfortable.

Lando was behind you, his hands on your hips, far too close for Pierre’s liking. It was then that he came to the conclusion that your dress was far too short. It showed too much of your legs. And the neckline was far too low, giving Lando a perfect view of your chest over your shoulder.

Your hand reached up behind you to tangle itself in Lando’s curls, and Pierre thought he might actually commit a crime.

He glances over at Charles who seems distracted, busy conversing or more so listening to Max. When he turns back to look at you, you’ve turned around, now facing Lando as you dance together.

Your hands are pressed against his chest while his are resting on your hips. Your foreheads are pressed together. You catch Lando’s eyes glancing down at your lips. He leans forward, and you let him, closing your eyes.

You can feel his lips brush against yours when you’re suddenly pulled away from him. Pierre’s got a hand on your arm, and a scowl on his face as he practically glares at Lando.

“We’re going home.” He says, before pulling you to the exit, his hand slips down to grasp yours.

“What about Charles?” You ask as you weave through groups of people in an attempt to keep up with Pierre’s quick steps.

“I told him you weren’t feeling well.” He answers, still pulling you along to his car outside.

The ride back to yours and Charles’ Monaco apartment is quiet. Pierre’s got a tight grip on the steering wheel as he keeps his eyes locked ahead. You pout quietly in the passenger seat, occasionally sparing a glance at the Frenchman beside you.

You follow him back upstairs to the apartment where he waits for you to unlock the door. Once inside he brushes past you and throws his coat on the couch. He walks to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water pushing it into your hands.

“Drink it.” He says, pulling one out for himself as well.

“I’m not drunk.” You quietly tell him as you unscrew the cap.

He scoffs. “You were drunk enough to think that grinding against Lando was a good idea.”

A smirk grows on your face. You take slow steps towards him. “Are you jealous Pierre?”

“Why would I be jealous? You’re just a kid.” He’s quick to snap.

His answer strikes a nerve, but you persist. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Lando is closer to may age. Just a year younger than me. Maybe I should give him a call, finish what we started.”

His lips are on yours within a second. The kiss is hungry, fueled with fire and the need to finally express the feelings you’ve both had for so long. He pushes you up against the kitchen counter, slotting a leg between yours.

You whimper into the kiss as his leg pushes against your center, your dress sliding up and revealing more skin to him.

Your hands find his hair as his find the bottom of your dress. His fingers trail up your legs to toy with the waistband of your panties.

“Bedroom.” You manage to breathe out in between kisses.

He lifts you up by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist and walks you both to your bedroom. You can feel the tent growing in his pants as he pushes himself against you.

He kicks the door shut behind him, and drops you on your bed. Clothes are torn off the two of you, thrown to different corners of the room until you’re both just in your underwear.

He dives down to kiss you again, laying between your legs. One of his hands strokes the skin of your thigh, pulling it around him.

You continue to kiss each other, your tongues seemingly dance with each other as he softly starts to thrust his hips against yours. His kisses travel down your neck to your collarbone. He reaches a hand behind you and unlatches your bra, throwing it somewhere behind him.

He brushes a hand over one of your breasts, his fingers softly grazing your nipple. He leans down to kiss along your chest, his teeth marking up your skin as he goes.

“You’ve grown up quite a bit, huh?” He murmurs as he pays equal attention to both breasts.

“I’m not a little kid Pierre.” You roll your eyes at him, but let out a soft moan as he lets his teeth bite softly at one of your nipples.

“That’s for sure.” He says, continuing his journey down your body.

Once again his fingers fiddle with the waistband of your panties. He uses his arms to spread your legs for him, giving him a perfect view of the wet patch that’s grown on your underwear.

“So wet for me chéri?” He presses his fingers against the wet fabric, teasing you through your underwear.

“Should we talk about the tent you’ve got?” You lightly kick his back.

He laughs and shakes his head. “Alright, alright.” His hands move back to the top of your underwear but pause. He looks back up at your face. “Are you sure you want this?”

You do want this, you know you want this. But part of you can’t help but think of your brother, or Pierre’s best friend. This could make things messy for everyone, that is if Charles doesn’t murder Pierre.

You look back down at the man between your legs. Sincerity swims around in the green eyes that stare back at you. You know he’ll back off if you tell him no. That this can all fade away, never to be mentioned again. Or you can grab onto this moment and not let it go, throw caution to the wind.

You nod and give him a soft smile. “I’m sure.”

He returns his own smile, then slowly peels your panties off of you. He tosses them near the pile of his clothes. “I’m keeping those.” He gives your thigh a kiss.

You let out a sigh as his fingers stroke your folds. The sigh turns into a whimper when he lightly taps against your clit.

“So sensitive ma chéri.” He smirks.

He slowly pushes his middle finger into you, pressing against your walls. Your thighs tighten around him as he works his finger in and out of you, then adds another.

You moan out his name as he starts to press against the spongey spot inside you.

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He climbs back up your body to kiss you again, stealing your moans from your mouth.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax. You push against his chest so he’s looking at you.

“Pierre, I need you inside me.”

He pulls his fingers out of you and raises them to his mouth, sucking your wetness off of them.

“You taste so good chéri.” He practically moans.

You reach out to pull his boxers down. His cock slaps his abdomen as he kicks his underwear away.

You can see the bead of precum that’s gathered on his tip. You spread it over him with a finger, then pump his cock a few times.

Pierre’s eyes roll to the back of his head. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.” He groans.

You lay back down, pulling him down with you. He looks down between the two of you and holds his cock at your entrance. He looks back up at you, silently asking one more time if you’re sure you want this with him. You nod and wrap your arms around his neck.

He notches the head of his cock in you, then slowly pushes himself in. You take a few deep breathes, closing your eyes.

The stretch to fit him is a lot. It didn’t hurt, but his size was more than you were used to accommodating.

When he finally bottoms out, he pauses, giving you a moment. He rests his forehead against yours, pressing soft kisses against your face as you get used to his size.

“You can move.” You murmur.

He pulls himself away then pushes himself back in, creating a rhythm for the two of you.

He’s going slow, too slow. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him deeper inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, and so warm.” He moans, his head falling down to your shoulder as his thrusts speed up.

He nips at your shoulder, his teeth creating small dents in the skin.

As his thrusts speed up you can feel him get deeper and deeper until the head of his cock hits the perfect place inside you. You yelp as you clench around him even tighter.

“You feel so good Pierre. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You moan.

He reaches a hand down between you to rub at your clit, quickly sending you over the edge.

Your release triggers his, his cum coating your walls as he drags your orgasms out.

You’re both breathing heavily when you’re finished, clinging onto each other like a lifeline. You unwrap your legs from around him, the muscles tense from your activities.

He softly pulls out of you, causing you to whimper at the now empty feeling between your legs. His cock is soft now, the base coated in a creamy looking white substance, a mix of your releases.

He get up off the bed and goes to your bathroom, when he returns he’s holding a wash cloth in his hand. He cleans you up, apologizing when you wince from the sensitivity.

He goes back to the bathroom to dispose of the wash cloth, then comes back and gets back in bed with you.

He pulls you to his chest and sighs, staring up at your ceiling. Your fingers fiddle with his as you lay in silence.

You sigh. “We’re going to have to talk about this.” You break the silence.

“I know.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Right now I just want to enjoy holding you in my arms.”

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to fall asleep, letting the worries of your relationship status fade away for the night.

When you wake up Pierre’s got a tight hold on you. His face is buried in your neck, his arms locked around your torso.

You watch as he sleeps, his soft snores coming out in rhythmic beats. You lift a hand to softly run through his hair, the golden brown strands are soft between your fingers. Your hand traces down his face, over his cheekbone, then to his lips.

His breath hitches as his eyes flutter open. A lazy smile grows on his face as he looks at you.

“Good morning ma chéri.” His voice is deep with sleep.

“Good morning Pierre.” You smile.

As much as you want to bask in the energy of an early morning cuddle session with Pierre, you know you need to talk about last night, about what last night means to you now.

“So…” You trail off.

“So?” He asks, nudging your jaw with his nose, clearly looking for some affection from you.

“So, are we going to talk about last night?” You’re scared of what he’ll say, but you know this is a discussion you need to have.

“Last night was fun.”

Your heart drops. Last night was fun? That’s all he has to say?

“Pierre-”

“I meant what I said. About wanting to do that for so long.” He kisses down your neck, his eyes finding the light purple marks he left along your skin the previous night.

You lift his chin so he’s looking into your eyes again.

“Was that just a one time thing? Because I don’t think I can do this if it was Pierre. I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, but I don’t want to give you my heart if you’re just going to break it.”

His eyebrows furrow. How could you possibly think he would break your heart?

“No mon amour, no.” He cups your face in his hands. “I have been in love with you since we were kids, since Charles introduced us. I know that it’s going to be hard working this out with your brother, but I’d like to, if you’ll have me.”

You grin, rolling on top of him and cover his faces in kisses.

You moment of joy is cut short when you hear a knocking on your door.

“Y/n?” Charles’ voice calls from the other side.

The door starts to open as you roughly push Pierre under your bedsheets.

“I’m changing!” You shout at your brother.

Charles freezes, leaving the door only cracked open.

Pierre sighs, running his hand up and down your leg. An idea comes to him, an evil, risky idea. He crawls further down, and throws your legs over his shoulders. He licks a long stripe through your folds, grinning when he hears you gasp and feels a hand grip his hair.

“Pierre said you weren’t feeling well, how are you feeling now?” Charles asks through the door.

Your eyes roll back as Pierre sucks your clit into his mouth, toying with the little bundle of nerves.

“Y/n?”

“Good! Good, I feel good.” You hope your words don’t sound like a moan.

“Alright, well I’m going to go get some breakfast, would you like to join me?” Charles asks.

“No, no. You go. I’ll stay.” You manage to get out.

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” He closes your door again, you can hear his footsteps disappear in the apartment.

You give Pierre’s back a harsh kick, to which he groans, then crawls up out from under the sheets.

“That hurt!” He groans.

“Well I don’t think eating me out in front of my brother is a good way to get him onboard with our relationship.” You scoff.

“So we’re in a relationship now? Officially? You’re asking me to be your boyfriend?” He smirks, wrapping himself around you again.

“I hate you.” You say, but you can’t stop the smile from spreading on your face.

“I love you too.”

give you a show | LN4

summary: when your roommates that good looking it's hard not to stare

pairings: roommate!lando norris x fem!reader

an: not posted in a little (sorry) but i actually have a lot in my drafts but i’m grouping them together so i need to finish them all off before i post them :)

word count: 800

warnings: none i don’t think

feedback and reblogs appreciated !!

…

You hadn't been roommates with Lando very long, only a few weeks, and each day you couldn't tell whether you were regretting it or enjoying it more each day. Today included both.

You opened the door to your apartment only an hour later than you left after picking up a few things you needed. You quickly took your shoes off by the door and headed further inside, announcing a quick, "I'm home," as you led your jacket down on the top of a chair, a bad habit both you and Lando formed, but it was just easier.

"Kitchen," a reply came from your left.

You headed towards the kitchen door, briefly pausing as you stepped inside before recomposing yourself and carrying on. You sat on a bar stool seat in the corner of the room, Lando in perfect view, before unconsciously taking your phone out.

You weren't focused on it at all, not when Lando was standing there, looking like that. His body was faced sideways away from you and his hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions, but he still pulled it off well. Grey sweatpants hung off his hips very lowly and he wasn't wearing a shirt at all. He was either chopping some food or mixing something - you weren't sure, you weren't focused on what he was doing anyway.

A few minutes pass, he's moved around a bit but always returning to the same place no matter what he's doing. You weren't really sure what he was doing but you weren't complaining. The more he seemed to stand there, the more his arms seemed to flex too. You were loving it, completely unaware of how obvious you were, or what you were meant be to doing, you couldn't think straight anyway.

You were too concentrated on him and his arms that you didn't hear him call your name the first time - or the second. It was only the third time he said it that it knocked you out of your daze. Your eyes met his face again, tracing over every detail. Luckily he wasn't looking at you, you thought, he was still focused on whatever he was doing.

"You've been watching that for an awful long time," he spoke, a smirk taking over his features. He was right, you realised. Looking at the phone, you noticed you'd opened tiktok and had just been letting the same video play on loop since you sat down.

You stutter for a moment, thinking of an excuse. "I was reading the comments." You said, lying through your teeth way too obviously.

His smirk never faltered, instead just grew, "took you a while to tell me that. Don't worry, I don't mind when you stare."

You didn't really know how to answer that so you just stayed quiet, your eyes still trained on his face as he turned around and stepped much closer to you.

He was right in front of you now, the only thing separating you was the marble of the kitchen bar worktop.

"What? You think I didn't notice? I cut up way more salad than I'd need in a week, waiting for you to notice." He grinned, putting his arms on the counter and moving his face down to the same height as yours and ever so slightly closer.

"So you were giving me a show?" You reply before you have any time to think about it. You watch as he falters at your response, giving yourself a little ego boost. You cock your head to the side, almost as if you're challenging him for a reply.

He quickly gains his compose back, brushing off the slight embarrassment of you getting him flustered - it isn't the first time but it's the most obvious.

"Well, when there's a pretty girl in front of you, always." He whispers as though it's obvious, in an attempt to again fluster you more than how you flustered him.

"So you think I'm pretty?" You try to hide your grin but fail miserably. Lando also fails to hide his when he sees yours.

"Very much so," he smiles back, moving a hand up to brush some hair off of your face. "Now," he says, slapping his hands down on the counter and flexing slightly, "what kind of roommate would I be if I didn't give you a full show? Anything else you'd like to watch me do?" he says, almost playful, almost serious, liking the idea of being ogled at by you quite nice.

"Well there's a watermelon in the fridge," you tease, tracing your hand down the prominent veins in his arm.

He smirks, watching your hand in motion, "perfect." He doesn't move though, he stays there, absorbed in the way your hand touches his arm.

"Get to it!" you joke, watching as he moves instantly towards the fridge.

In his rush, he doesn't forget to turn back and give you a cheeky wink, followed by a "yes, ma'am."

…

feedback + reblogs appreciated and requests are open :)

Apparently its canon that:

Dick and Jason look alike.

Dick is basically Bruce's carbon copy.

Can you imagine how many times Dick have been mistaken as Jason and Bruce? Or Jason being mistaken as Dick?

Dick, wearing a black tank top and sweats— looking exactly like Bruce, walks into the kitchen:

Damian: Morning, Father.

Dick, turns around, expecting to see Bruce behind him: ?????

——————

20 year old Dick casually picking up his 13 year old brother Jason from school:

Random teacher: Ah, Mr. Wayne. Are you here to pick Jason up?

Dick: Mr— It's me, Dick??? Dick Grayson??????

——————

Dick walking into the Manor after Bruce and Jason having an argument about something:

Bruce: Jason? You're back?

Dick in a leather jacket: He's out killing people wdym??????

——————

Dick just wanting to get some coffee, gets stopped by paparazzi, thinking he was Bruce:

Random reporter: Mr. Wayne!

Dick: STOP CONFUSING ME AS MY DAD

——————

Dick hanging out with Tim:

Random passerby whispering to their friend: That's Bruce Wayne and his son Timothy Drake!

Dick, who could hear it: ...

Tim: Calm down. Calm your tits.

——————

Jason walking into the kitchen, Bruce and Tim are there, both have been awake for 72 hours now:

Bruce: Morning Dick.

Jason: Did you just call me a dick????

Tim: But— that's your name?

Jason: My name is Jason. I'm NOT DICK.

——————

Jason and Dick getting de-aged, both wearing their Robin costumes:

Cassandra: Sooooo... which one is Dick and which one is Jason?

Bruce: I— I never realised they look so similar.

Duke: The angry and feral one must be Jason. Dick's the smiley one.

Tim: Nope. Dick's the feral. Jason's the happy. Been stalking them for years, I would know.

——————

Dick crying hysterically: Do I look old enough to be mistaken as Bruce?!?!?!?!

Bruce: *glares*

Jason: Exactly! I don't look that old to look like Dick.

Dick: FUCK YOU

——————

But of course, sometimes it's an advantage. Dick could get away with things like being Batman, getting his brothers out of trouble, etc.

While Jason could get away with being Nightwing and stuff. (ehem that time when he dressed up as Nightwing and killed people in the suit.)

Stan having no idea who you are after his mind is wiped but you're gorgeous. You kneel in front of him, hand on his arm, trying not to break down as you introduce yourself.

It doesn't work and you can't help but pull him in for a hug, Stan awkwardly patting your back. You needed the comfort, he was yours and you needed him.

Ford eventually tries to pull you away and you shake your head, clinging harder, pathetically telling him no.

"Hey, she can stay as long as she wants." Stan tightened his hold as he frowned at Ford. He may have no clue about the group staring at him but if someone as beautiful as you needed a hug from him he would oblige.

"No, he's right." You spoke in his ear before pulling back, swatting at your wet cheeks.

Stan's eyes roamed your face. It was sad and in pain but he knew he had never seen anyone as glorious as you. The curve of your cheek, the line of your nose, your plump lips. Your eyes had turned a hue of pink, because of your sobs, that made them shine.

He felt like a kid. He didn't know what to say or do but he wanted needed to get on your good side.

What had you said your name was again?

finally done with the series that's been plaguing my dreams for a month