6t1 girlie going to celebrate that p2 real nice I reckon
silverstone celebrations | lando norris
continuation of the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)
lando gets a podium, his first one at his home race and surely that calls for a celebration. it's unfortunate, however, that the hotel walls aren't soundproof.
word count: 3.5k
tags/warning: slight smut, fingering, female receiving, lando's a little shit but hey it's his podium, poorly translated french im so sorry, also not rly edited that well
Lando squeezed you so tight over the barriers, lifting your feet off the ground despite there being a clear fence to separate the drivers from their teams. There was no doubt in your mind that he would pull you over if he wouldn’t get in trouble from the stewards.
The neon hat fell from your head as he kissed you, not like you cared, you hated it anyway. ‘You look like a highlighter’ Charles had said when you showed up in the paddock on Friday sporting the new Grandstand merch line Lando came out with specifically for this race. It was true, though. You looked like a highlighter all weekend, but you knew Lando loved seeing you in his merch and god were you easy to spot when he got out of the car in parc ferme.
In the sea of orange and black McLaren crew members, there you were. Tears streamed down your face as you waited to congratulate Lando for his P2 finish. You were selfish about it too. You didn’t care that there were other people around you waiting to congratulate him, Zak Brown included, his family included, you wanted to kiss him and you wanted the world to see how proud you were that Lando had claimed a podium for the first time at his home race.
You pulled back, hands cupping his face. You couldn’t tell if your palms were sweaty or if Lando’s face was damp with sweat, it didn’t matter honestly, you just needed to look at him. You needed to see the excitement on his face, you wanted to take this moment in.
His hand covered yours as his eyes were squinting from how large his smile was. “We did it. We did it! P2, we-”
“No, you did it,” your voice came out broken, your happy sob choked you up and Lando nodded. He did it. You laughed, because how could you not. This was the happiest you had felt in a long time. “You did it, Lando. And I’m so, so proud of you. I love you. You did it.”
He gave your hand a squeeze before he was pulled away by someone else. A driver, a crew member, you weren’t sure. The rest of that celebration turned into a blur and it wasn’t until you felt champagne being sprayed on you as Lando stood atop the podium did it sink in that he accomplished something truly incredible at his home race. At McLaren’s home race. This would be a moment he would remember for the rest of his life and with every bone in your body, with every fibre of your being, you were proud of him.
Witnessing Charles’ accomplishments through the years had always brought you a sense of joy but this was something else. As Lando pointed at you from where he stood, a few metres above everyone else, you couldn’t explain the feeling in your chest. There were no words to explain how you felt, you just wanted to embrace this victory and be there for Lando.
Maybe it was because Lando said ‘we’. We did it, he told you. Staring directly into your glossy eyes because to him, the two of you were a team as much as him and McLaren were. His victory, his second place finish and you were very much a part of it. You were his biggest supporter, his loudest cheerleader, his motivation. He wanted to do well for McLaren of course, always, but god there was no better feeling in the world than having a good practice time or a decent quali session and seeing the look on your face. You were proud to call him yours and Lando desperately wanted to make a habit out of seeing your wide smile and teary eyes.
Honestly, he couldn’t believe it when you showed up on Friday wearing the neon Grandstand jumper. Lime green? Highlighter yellow? It was bright and hideous, is what it was, but Lando loved it and then he loved it even more seeing you in it. He didn’t know you had planned on wearing it, having shown up to the track later than him but it was a wonderful surprise.
And then Saturday, you showed up in the t-shirt and the baseball hat, the same blinding colour and he loved you even more for it.
Sunday, he was certain you’d wear something else. The paddock was also a fashion show for some people and he knew you liked to dress up.
But no, there you were again. Baseball hat, bright green jumper, you even managed to find a pair of cotton shorts in a similar colour and you could be seen a mile away. You hated it, but you loved Lando, so you could sacrifice your dignity for his home race.
Of course, you changed as soon as you could. Deciding on an orange cropped cami and white trousers, colours that highlighted your summer glow and showed just enough skin that it had Lando rubbing his hand over his face as he muttered something under his breath about how beautiful you were. You had just strapped on the second heel and straightened up when Lando came up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.
Your head rolled back onto his shoulder when his lips found your neck. His soft and slow kisses on your already hot skin had your breath hitching in your throat. You leaned into his chest, pressing your back as close as you could to him. Every inch of you that touched Lando lit a fire within your core.
“We could skip dinner,” Lando’s voice was low, barely above a whisper as the idea flowed from his mind into your ear, something he wanted to suggest earlier. A lot earlier.
He wanted to drag you into his driver's room and watch you drop to your knees in front of him. He wanted to leave marks on your skin in the backseat of the car with the partition rolled up. He wanted to pin you up against the wall as soon as you stepped foot into the hotel room, holding your hands above your head until you were begging to touch him.
But god forbid he had post race duties that kept any of that from happening.
The debrief. The fan stage with that disgusting shoey, but he had to keep his promise to Daniel about keeping the tradition alive. The individual thank you’s and handshakes to everyone he passed in the garage and paddock. And now the dinner with friends and family that was technically his idea but would it be so bad if he cancelled?
Or at least, showed up late?
“We have a reservation-”
“Doesn’t mean we need to be the first ones there,” Lando pointed out, a deep chuckle emitting from his throat. One of his hands trailed downwards, playing with the button on the front of your pants before popping it open. His pinky traced over the thin material of your panties and there wasn’t a single word of discouragement that passed your lips when he pulled the zipper down, just a quiet whimper and Lando could have sworn he heard you say please.
You rolled your hips against him, feeling the tightening in his own pants as he spread his palm across your abdomen, fingers gripping your skin.
He dipped past the hem of your underwear, the tip of his finger just barely teasing your clit. You swallowed, lifting your hand up to drag your nails through the hair on the back of your neck, pulling his lips to your neck once more because if you were going to feel Lando you wanted to feel him everywhere.
His hand slipped further down, using his middle finger to swipe through your folds, already feeling how wet you were for him. What he didn’t know was there had been a pool forming since you first thought about celebrating his podium finish. You were as desperate for him as he was for you.
“Lando,” you whispered. His name was your plea, asking him to do something aside from his painfully slow motions. He took your earlobe between his teeth and you tightened your grip on his hair in response, your body reacting to him and his touch the way it always did.
“Don’t rush me,” a breath of a laugh fell from his lips as he pressed another kiss to the spot below your ear. The slightest bit of pressure was applied to your centre as his thumb brushed over your clit. “Only fair I get to celebrate the way I want, don’t you think?”
“Let me treat you, then,” you tried to suggest, more than happy to switch positions and bring him to the edge before dinner. But you shouldn’t have been surprised when Lando’s response was to tighten his hold on you, his clothed erection pressing into your backside.
“Maybe later,” he pushed the idea aside, wanting nothing more than to see your knees go weak and hear you call out his name because God only knew it was a better experience than any podium ceremony could ever give him. The crowd cheering for him was one thing. But you begging for him? Otherworldly.
You opened your mouth again to argue with him, but your words escaped you when Lando pushed two fingers past your tight folds, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. He took his time until eventually he was knuckles deep inside of you and all you could do was cling onto him for dear life, a quiet chorus of please and faster encouraged him to find a steady pace.
Lando’s breath on your neck and his fingers sliding in and out of you had your legs giving out. If it wasn't for him physically holding up you’d be a goner. One particularly hard thrust upwards from him and the most beautiful moan echoed off the walls. He scissored his fingers against your walls, fighting back a groan himself when you clenched around him.
You were lost in your own little world that you didn’t even notice Lando trail his free hand up until it came to a stop where your jaw met your throat. His grip tightened, thumb finding your chin to tilt your face towards him as you rested on his shoulder.
“So pretty,” he praised, dragging your lower lip down ever so slightly. You stared up at him, wide eyes, fluttered lashes, stammered breaths…a sight he wanted permanently seared into his mind.
It wasn’t right. You should have been on your knees for him. It was his day, you wanted to show him just how proud you were, you wanted to congratulate him with his cock hitting the back of your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks.
But Lando loved this. You could celebrate your way later. Right now, he couldn’t ask for anything more.
He picked up the pace of his fingers, determined to bring you to the edge before you had to go to this fucking dinner. As far as Lando was concerned, he’d be happy enough with you as a meal. The mental image of you spread out on the bed as he dipped his head between your thighs was almost enough to convince him to call off the celebration tonight.
Almost.
Because the idea of being able to tease you throughout the rest of the evening was too good to pass up as well.
You swallowed heavily, feeling the familiar build up in your core, that burning sensation spread through your veins. An awaiting euphoria that only Lando could deliver to you.
His eyes darkened, recognizing the way your walls clenched around him in anticipation. His assault on your pussy quickened, the thrust of his fingers, his thumb over your clit, all of it was bringing you to the edge.
So one could imagine, this was the worst time for there to be a knock on your hotel room door only a few feet away from you.
Lando’s hand covered your mouth, knowing you were one who struggled to be quiet. Your eyes widened, your heart rate picking up and Lando only made the situation worse by not stopping. You could have sworn he sped up even.
He cleared his throat and called out to whoever was on the other side, waiting in the hall, “Yeah?”
“Just checking to see if you guys had left yet,” Charles' muffled voice came through the door. “Want to share a car?”
Lando, with a devious smirk on his face as his motions became stronger, rougher, happily answered knowing how much you were hating this. “We’d love to! We’ll be out in a moment, hang tight, mate.”
Charles said something else, something you didn’t catch as you were too focused on controlling your breaths behind Lando’s palm and praying that these walls were sound proof enough.
This was horrid. Knowing your brother was right outside the door as Lando worked desperately to push you over the edge.
He trailed his lips to your ear, “I hope you're close, love. Would hate to keep him waiting.”
You nodded, your whole body quivering. You were so close.
Lando slowly dropped his hand from your mouth, finding the look of sheer panic on your face to be amusing.
“You can be quiet, can’t you?” He taunted, knowing damn well you couldn’t.
“Lando-” it was hard to even get his name out, closing your jaw immediately when a moan threatened to escape next.
Another harsh thrust of his fingers had your hips bucking against him. It was a stark contrast from the way his thumb softly grazed over your cheek, his eyes encouraging you to give in, let go. Lando certainly didn’t give a single shit if your brother heard.
And you tried to be quiet, really. You bit the inside of your cheek as your orgasm hit you hard. Lando kept you steady and upright against his body, slowly working you through it. You fought with yourself to keep from shouting his name but there was nothing you could do about the angelic moan passing through your lips. Lando buried his face into the crook of your neck, a low rumble emitting from the back of his throat.
When you stopped pulsating around his fingers, Lando slid them out of you. He kissed your neck and then your cheek and then tilted your face to kiss your lips, gently, lovingly, softly. It almost made you forget your brother was quite literally waiting for both of you.
“I hate you,” you whispered.
Lando rolled his eyes, “You can’t hate me today, I got a podium.”
“Then I hate you tomorrow.”
Lando nodded, “That’s fine.” He kissed your cheek again as you lifted yourself off of his shoulder. He patted your butt as you turned around, “Go change, I’ll stall.”
Usually he would opt to lick your juices clean off his fingers, but he decided washing his hands would probably be the best decision. He adjusted himself as much as best as he could before looking down the hallway, not letting himself get distracted as you slipped a skirt on.
Lando opened the door to the hotel and nodded at Charles who was leaning against the wall across the way, head down as he scrolled through his phone. Charles barely acknowledged him, avoiding his eyes as he muttered something about how the car was waiting outside.
You joined them in the hall a few minutes later. Lando looked you over once and then twice, eyes narrowing at your hair but not making a comment about how you probably could have brushed it again. He just played with it as you walked next to him, both of you hoping he could smooth it out enough before you reached the restaurant.
Charles climbed into the front seat of the awaiting car while you and Lando climbed in the back. You attempted to make conversation with your brother, asking him about the debrief, but he wasn’t giving you anything in return. One word answers at most.
You pulled out your phone and texted Lando. He heard.
Lando snickered when he read your text, coming to that assumption as well with the way Charles avoided making eye contact. Instead of answering you, Lando slid his phone into his pocket and decided that the best thing to do would not be to let the situation simmer, but to bring the pot to a boil.
“Charles,” Lando cleared his throat, his hand dropping to your thigh. “It’s nice of you to join us tonight, really.”
Charles nodded, “Yeah, anytime.”
“Well I’m not you, you know? My podiums are quite far and few between so I like to celebrate when I can.”
Charles nodded again as you shot Lando a warning look. He ignored it, of course, because at the end of the day you fell for someone who was more immature than they ever cared to admit.
“It’s nice that Y/N’s here too, to celebrate with her,” Lando added. You squeezed his hand harsher than needed and he winced in slight pain, but didn’t let up, even when Charles chose not to respond. “Yeah she’s a great motivator-”
“Please stop talking,” Charles finally said, pleaded, actually. You could see him raise his hands to his face, breathing deeply into it. His voice was muffled as he spoke, but the pain in his voice was clear as dear. “For the love of god, Lando. Stop talking.”
Lando burst out laughing as your cheeks turned a bright shade of red.
“Charles-” you started.
“Nope,” he cut you off, staring directly ahead at the road in front of him. You could only imagine what the driver was thinking about this interaction. Charles refused to turn over his shoulder to look at either of you.
“We didn’t-”
“Arrêtez de parler,” Charles repeated, asking you now to stop talking. “Dites à Lando que si j'entends encore cela, je mettrai le feu à sa voiture.” Tell Lando, if I ever hear that again I will set his car on fire.
“Quelle voiture?” Which car? Not that it really mattered, but you would have preferred if Charles didn’t commit a felony during a race weekend.
“The McLaren,” Charles answered, in English, to let Lando know he was talking about him and his car despite him not being aware of the threat that just came out of his mouth.
Lando leaned in towards you, “What did he say?”
You shook your head, not wanting to dive into it right now and thanking your lucky stars when you pulled up outside the restaurant. Charles practically sprinted inside, bypassing Daniel and Carlos who tried to say hi to him.
When the two of you stepped out, Daniel approached you with some concern, nodding his head towards the doors, “What’s up with Leclerc?”
“He heard us,” Lando answered point-blankly. He and Daniel were still incredibly close, you shouldn’t have been surprised at how honet Lando was.
“He heard you?” Daniel repeated. “What does that mean?”
“He heard us,” you said, more emphasis on the word of the hour without getting into too much detail. It took a second, but Daniel’s face was priceless as he dipped his head back and laughed. He had to cover his mouth with his hands to keep from making too loud of a scene.
Lando slid his hand around your waist, pulling you into his side as Daniel’s laughing fit continued. You wanted to hide your face. Actually, no, you just wanted to hide. You didn’t want to make eye contact with your brother, ever again.
“Poor kid,” Daniel managed to get out, still chuckling. “But hey, congrats I guess-”
You reached forward, hitting Daniel’s chest and he stepped back, hands up in defence.
“For the podium,” he clarified, still grinning from ear to ear. He adjusted the hem of his collar, sending a wink towards the British driver before turning and walking inside. You and Lando waited a second, watching as Carlos clearly asked Daniel what that was about but Daniel brushed it off, telling him to ask Charles.
You stepped forward, but Lando’s hand on your waist moved to your wrist as he pulled you back. His eyes scanned over your face, seeing your red cheeks, feeling the heat radiating from your skin, losing you to the anxious way your eyes darted everywhere.
“Hey,” he whispered, hands trailing up your arms. “I love you.”
You laughed, because how could you not? Only Lando would feel the need to assure you he loved you after practically being caught by your brother, which was, technically, Lando’s fault.
“I love you,” you repeated back. “But for both of our sakes, I hope you never get a podium ever again.”
“Ah,” Lando grinned, sarcasm already heavy on his tone. “My biggest motivator, such kind words.”
“I mean it.”
You didn’t, obviously. You wanted nothing more than to see Lando’s trophy shelf filled to the brim. You wanted to see him standing on top of the podium week after week. You wanted to get used to seeing him spray the champagne over the other drivers and the crowd.
But if this was going to become a regular thing, you were certainly going to need to change the way you celebrated. Or at least, you'd be sure to confirm that the walls were soundproof.
Summary: charles starts dating a new girl after you two split, but there’s no way she even compares.
Warnings: slight angst honestly :’) & language
“It doesn’t bother you?” Your bestfriend leans closer to you, lowering her voice but loud enough for you to hear her over the loud music.
You both turn your attention towards the couple standing at the end of the bar.
“No, the split was mutual. We’re still friends.” Your answer was short and she noticed, backing off.
The truth was, seeing Charles with another girl made you feel sick. You could feel your palms and forehead sweating as your anger bubbled up inside you, threatening to escape at any second.
You weren’t lying when you said the split was mutual though. It was, but you regret it. You regret letting him slip through your fingers and you wish you could go back and change everything.
You had both somewhat agreed, that, “you were both living different lives”. Your career was demanding, taking up much of your free time. While his career, well, was the same way.
It got to the point where you two were only spending time with one another because you felt like you needed to. But that didn’t stop the feelings you had for him.
He was your first love, the first person you felt so effortlessly comfortable with. He brought out parts of yourself that you didn’t even know existed. Charles Leclerc was your soulmate, you knew it from the moment you met him coincidentally at a club just like this one.
So, seeing him here, at this all too familiar location, with someone else, was agonizing.
You glance over at him once again, watching her laugh at something he said. You knew that laugh, you were just like her. You knew that whatever he had said was genuinely funny, and frustratingly adorable. Before looking away, you notice the way his fingers were fiddling with hers and you felt your chest tighten.
The thoughts and emotions start flooding in and you decide to get some fresh air before you literally exploded on the spot.
“I’ll be back.” You mumble to your bestfriend as she nods in understanding.
You push your way through the groups of people, desperately trying to get out of there. You could feel yourself on the brink of tears and how hot your body temperature became.
The loud music, people yelling, the smell of alcohol and the fact that you were all alone became so overwhelming, you didn’t know what to do or where to go..
Until someone grabbed your arm.
Charles POV
He had been watching you all night.
He watched you leaning against the bar counter, sitting in a stool with a drink in hand. Your black spaghetti strap dress draped over your crossed leg as you observed the crowd, oh so carefully.
He hated how good you looked tonight. He hated himself for not being able to pull you into his side, claiming you as his. Most of all, he hated himself.
There you were sitting alone, seeming content with yourself. While he was here with a girl he’d just met a few hours ago.
The atmosphere started to bring back memories from the night the two of you first met.
Flashback
“I’m going to get a drink!” You speak loudly over the music towards your friend. She nods before you leave the dance floor in search of the bar.
“Just the person I was looking for!” You smile at the bartender as he’s filling a glass.
He smiles back at you, obviously entertained by your choice of words.
“What can I get for you?” He asks, putting the full glass in front of the person a few spots down.
“Oh boy, something fruity. A fun fruity cocktail!” The amount of alcohol you’ve had so far is definitely showing.
The bartender leans against the counter, looking at you with a chuckle.
“A fun fruity cocktail, comin up.” He swings a hand towel over his shoulder and gets to work.
You watch him mix different kinds of liquids and choosing fun garnishes to make your drink.
“Here you are, a fun fruity cocktail.” He pushes it slowly in front of you and you smile like a kid in a candy shop. The drink looks like a plain glass of orange juice, with an orange slice on the rim. “Taste it and tell me what’s in it.”
You look up at him and he smirks.
You shrug your shoulders innocently before taking a small sip, smacking your lips together sarcastically to get a better taste.
“Hmm.” You hum, looking up at the ceiling. “Pineapple.”
He nods with a smile. “Go on.”
“Orange juice for sure?” You glance from the drink back up to the bartender as he nods again.
“Rum.” You say confidently.
“Girl knows her alcohol.” He laughs jokingly.
“I just know my rum.” You shoot back.
“Touché.” He puts his elbows on the counter in front of you. “There’s one more ingredient.”
You raise your eyebrows and take another sip.
“Really? You sure?” You ask, not buying it.
“I made it, didn’t I?” He smiles again.
You take yet another sip, totally at a loss for what the other ingredient is.
“I honestly have no idea.” You look up at him to hopefully get an answer, but all he does is shrug his shoulders.
“I guess you’ll never know.” He winks at you before walking away to help someone else.
You blink a few times, wondering what the hell just happened. However you get over it pretty quickly when you take another sip and smile.
It was a good fuckin drink, whatever it was.
You turn around in your stool and look out at all the people.
You loved this type of environment. Something about the music, the way people danced without a care in the world, the fun drinks, and the neon lights made you feel alive.
“Having fun?” You jump slightly at the sound of someone else’s voice next to you.
“Jesus!” You put your hand on your chest and look quickly to your left.
A young man sat one stool down from you, his elbows on the edge of the counter as he also, looked out into the crowd.
Through the dim lighting you could see his slightly messy brown hair and small smile. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on why.
“Uh yeah. Yes, I am.” You reply, not sure what else to say.
He nods his head slightly and stands up.
“May I?” He motions to the stool next to you with his hand.
“Of course.” You nod your head as well as he sits down. Now that he’s a little closer, you can see the small trace of facial hair lightly covering his jaw and chin. He was very attractive you couldn’t deny it.
“My name is Charles.” He holds out his hand you take it slowly.
“Y/N.” You reply warily.
“Y/N, what a great name.” He says, taking a sip of his drink. “I think that bartender has a crush on you.” He says out of nowhere. However, you notice his accent and your eyes widen.
“What? What makes you say that?” You look at him and the way he smiles at you was mesmerizing. You couldn’t help but let your eyes drop down to his lips for a split second, before meeting his eyes again.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He chuckles.
“Maybe I wanted you to notice.” You reply, wondering where that sudden boost of confidence came from.
“Hmm.” He cocks his head to the side and looks out at the crowd again. There’s a small silence between you two before he continues. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with him.”
“The bartender?” You question, already knowing the answer.
“No that guy.” He points to a random dude a few stools down the bar and you both laugh.
Something about the way you two laughed together over the smallest joke was new to you.
“Anyway,” You both compose yourselves once again. “I heard that he left you hanging on that last ingredient.”
“Hmm yeah.” You reply. “But it’s ok, it’s a good drink so I’m over it.”
“That’s a bummer.” He says, casually leaning a little bit closer to you. So subtly that you wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for how aware you were of his presence already. You could smell his expensive cologne and his white shirt started to bunch around his abdomen, exposing how fit this man was.
“Why is that a bummer?” You basically whisper, just loud enough once again for him to hear you.
He turns his head towards you, your faces so close to one another. You feel so drawn in, so captivated by this mystery man. Something about the way he speaks to you so effortlessly should’ve been illegal.
“I thought maybe I could help you.” You notice him leaning in even more. You can feel the bass from the music in your chest.. or maybe it was your own heartbeat racing at how close he was to you.
“How so?” You breathe out, his long eyelashes fluttering at the warmth. He quickly glances down to your lips, inches from his, before looking back up into your eyes - into your soul.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” You say with a smirk, your chest rising and falling at how hard you were breathing.
“Maybe I wanted you to notice.” He replies softly before he connects his lips with yours.
The kiss is soft, but so needy. Almost like you two have been waiting for this kiss for centuries. His large hand grazed over the side of your face, down to your jaw.
It was poetic how well you two moved together. A stranger walking by would’ve thought you two have known each other for years. You felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, basically begging you to let him in.
A small moan escapes your lips, giving him the opportunity to explore you even more. You could care less that you were both in the middle of one the most crowded places, surrounded by people. And it seemed that he felt the same way.
You didn’t want it to end, you wanted to kiss this - familiar - stranger, forever. However, he was the first to pull away. He leaned back, examining your face for any sign of how you were feeling.
Your heavy eyelids and parted lips were enough for him to smirk.
“I taste coconut.” He says quietly. “Thats the last ingredient.”
Present
Charles snaps out of his thoughts when the girl he came with tonight tugs on his hand lightly, pulling at his fingers.
He looks down at where his hand met hers and pulls away quickly. He didn’t like that this wasn’t with you. His stomach churned knowing that he was the reason you slipped through his fingers.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” The girl, who’s name he couldn’t remember for the life of him, put her hand on his shoulder.
He glanced back at where you had been sitting, but you were gone. His head swam with questions. Where did you go? Why did you leave? Should he find you?
But he knew one thing, he needed to talk to you.
“I have to get some air.” Charles says, leaving the other girl behind. He quickly makes his way next to your friend.
She looks up at him with a knowing look.
“She went that way.” She replies without even needing him to explain.
Charles thanks her before making his way through the crowd.
He needed to see you, he needed to talk to you. He wanted to explain everything and tell you how he felt.
He was about to give up, thinking you may have left already, when he spots you.
He sees you standing in the middle of the crowd looking around frantically for a way out. His heart breaks seeing you so stressed, so upset.
Not knowing what else to do, he grabs your forearm.
Your POV
You spin around at the contact and come face to face with the last person you wanted to see. Or so you thought.
Seeing Charles standing in front of you, a look of defeat in his eyes, made you realize how much you really missed him.
You missed his touch, his laugh, his hugs, his kisses, his jokes, his hair, his eyes, everything. You missed everything about him.
But you were still angry.
“Charles? What are you doing?” You yell.
His eyes scan over your face, soaking in every feature under the dim strobe lights. You could see his eyebrows furrow a bit, his mouth opening to say something. His chest rose and fell so deeply, it was hard for you not to notice.
“Charles?” You repeat his name again, a bit worried as to what’s going on inside his mind.
After a couple seconds he closes his mouth, deciding not to speak, rather he lifts his hand up towards your face so slowly.
Your eyes follow his movements and as his fingers rest along the side of your face, everything goes silent.
It was just you and him. The two of you. It always had been and you didn’t want to deny it any longer.
His touch is so soft as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips trace the side of your jaw on the way down.
Instinctively, you lean your head into the palm of his hand.
“Y/N.” He says just so you can hear him. “I miss you so much.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. This is what you wanted, this is exactly what you had hoped he would say, but he’s still here with someone else.
Quickly, you back away from him shake your head before turning to finally see the exit.
“Y/N!” He calls after you but you’re already out the door, the fresh air hitting your sweaty face. You look to your right and begin leaning against the wall, taking a deep breath.
“Y/N.” Charles spots you and approaches you slowly. “Please listen.”
“What? Charles, what?” You let out exasperated. The night had been all too much.
“I’m so sorry.” He replies quietly.
“What are you sorry for?” You’re annoyed but there was really no reason for him to be sorry. “We’re not together, you can come with whoever you want. We broke up. It was our decision. Why are you sorry.”
It wasn’t a question anymore. It was a statement.
“I don’t want to come with ‘whoever’ I want to be with you. I miss you so much. I want you by my side all the fucking time. It drives me insane that I’m not yours and you’re not mine.”
His words shock you. You can’t help but stare up into his eyes, the eyes you’re so familiar with.
“What about her-“
“That doesn’t matter.” He cuts you off, grasping your hand. “You matter.”
You look down at where his hand meets yours and close your eyes.
“My heart belongs to you.”
The tears start to brim and you suck in your bottom lip. Slowly looking back up at him, he’s searching your expression for any sort of response.
“Only you.” You reply quietly before his lips crash into yours. His large hands holding the side of your face while yours wrap around his torso. You can feel him smiling through the kiss and you can’t help but chuckle. He pulls away and gently rests his forehead against yours.
Summary: you told yourself that the drivers were off limits… but god you just can’t get him out of your head
Warning: sexual tension & carlos’s hair
It was a miracle.
A miracle that you landed your dream job to work alongside the Ferrari Formula One team. Growing up, you watched every single race and fell in love with the sport more and more each Sunday. Never did you think you’d be watching them from the team’s garage and not your own garage at home where your dad had a television.
It’s been a little over a year that you’ve been working closely with the one and only, Carlos Sainz, as his PR manager. The two of you have always gotten along, becoming close friends. But it wasn’t until recently however, where you were starting to go against your own promise.
“Drivers are off limits.”
You mentally face palm yourself whenever you think about how naive you were coming into this.
Working closely with Carlos involved all of the “girlfriend” duties of taking care of him and planning his day, blah blah blah BUT excluding the rewards.
How is that you had to stand next to him during the post interviews after he just finished an insane race?
That instance being tonight.
There you were, standing off to the side after briefing him on his upcoming interviews.
“How did you feel in the car tonight?” One of the interviewers asked, holding the microphone slightly closer to Carlos after his question.
“Well…”
He finished his sentence, don’t think he didn’t. But you weren’t listening. You weren’t even physically at the track anymore.
Carlos leans slightly in front of the interviewer, one hand running through his sweaty brown hair while the other grips the metal railing.
God that hair.
What you would give to run your own hand through it, imagining him closing his eyes slowly as you do.
His race suit is tied lazily around his waist and while he speaks, you notice the occasional nervous lip bite, pulling at the skin.
Sweat starts dripping down the side of his face as he quickly wipes it away with his large hand.
“Thank you Carlos, great race.” The interviewer speaks, snapping you out of your inappropriate thoughts.
“Ready?” Carlos turns to you with a small smile. It’s become apparent at how close he’s standing next to you, slightly looking down because of the height difference. His dark brown eyes pulling you in more.
“Of course.” Your words sounded so quiet, so far away, you weren’t even sure if he heard you.
“C’mon.” He motions to the side with his head, his hair loosely waving along. He begins walking towards, which you assume would be his driver room, with you by his side.
Walking with him around the paddock is always an experience, knowing that all the stares you’re getting is surely because of the Ferrari driver next to you. The occasional glance made at you, however, everyone knows you’re his PR manager, no surprise there. You wonder though, what if you weren’t? What if the occasional glances were because people weren’t sure who you were to Carlos? Or better yet, they knew that you’re more than what you are now.
“You alright, y/n?” Carlos’s voice rings out, once again snapping you out of your daydream.
I really need to get it together.
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” You avoid eye contact as you feel his gaze on you.
“You just seem a little out of it tonight.” He replies.
You don’t know why you decided to look at him once you arrived at his driver room, both of you walking in slowly. But by the way he was already observing you when you did, you wanted so badly to blame those big brown eyes.
You flashed him a smile, reassuring him that everything was ok and you were definitely not daydreaming about him the past hour and a half. His facial features relaxed, returning the smile.
“Well, I-I’ll see you tomorrow at the team meeting?” You’re body feels as if you just got hit by a car when you hear yourself starting to stutter a little bit.
Seriously?? You’re stuttering?? Pull it together!
A small chuckle passes his lips, but you’re going to take it as a exaggerated sigh because the thought of him laughing at you makes your stomach churn.
“You’re not going to the dinner tonight?” He asks.
Shit. You totally forgot about the dinner tonight. It wasn’t anything formal, just a little get together with some of the drivers and team members. You weren’t planning on going anyway, but the look on Carlos’s face made you second guess yourself.
“Do you want me to go?” You don’t know what came over you to say that. Why does it matter? What if he says no? He could literally care less, you’re his PR for gods sake.
“Do you want me to say yes?” His reply catches you off guard and suddenly the air around you two was as thick as mud. He crosses his arms against his chest.
You don’t know how long you’ve been managing to keep eye contact with him, but you were starting to feel the affects.
It was like his stare was melting you on the spot.
“Let me ask you again.” He takes a small step closer to you, your body freezes when your back hits the door. “Do you want me to say yes?”
What do I want? Say it!!!!
“Yes.” You breathe out, barely a whisper.
“What?” He tilts his chin up a little bit, peering at you through his long eyelashes. “Didn’t quite hear you, mi amor.”
Fuck. The nickname alone had you’re head spinning and your legs wobbling. Never in your wildest dreams, well maybe in the ones you were having moments ago, would you find yourself actually in this position, hearing those kinds of words directed towards you.
“Yes.” You repeat yourself with a little more confidence.
He gently lifts his hand and puts your chin between his thumb and index finger.
Just with the small contact of his hand on your skin makes your eyes flutter. You can’t help it, and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.
“Look at you.” His voice low, a smug smile on his face. “I knew you had a crush on me, but, fuck, seeing you like this is so addicting.”
Addicting.
You could feel his small grip on your chin tighten when your thoughts start swarming.
Could you tell him that he’s all you ever think about? That it’s more than you even dare to admit? That even the small contact in this moment is something you’ve imagined when you’re alone?
“Get out of my head.” You reply, all your questions and thoughts jumbled together finally pushing you to speak out.
He raises an eyebrow, obviously taken back by your response. But as you look into his eyes again, you can no longer see those sweet brown eyes. No, you see the lustful black formed by his dilated pupils.
You wanted so badly to put your hands on him. To feel his chest and shoulders through his tight fireproof shirt. To somehow have some sort of control in this situation where you’re absolutely helpless.
“You’re the one who let me in.” He replies, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it.
He was right. You let him in, you let him invade your thoughts. It was you who admired the little things he does. It was you who decided to keep working with him, despite the circumstances. It was you who thought about him when you were alone in your hotel room at night.
“Go get ready.” He releases his hand and opens the door behind you.
You stand there speechless, unable to process what’s happening without wanting to combust into flames.
“See you tonight, cariño.”
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omg hey hi this is my first one shot thingy whatever on tumblr LOL hope you guys like it!!
not planning on turning this into a series BUT if people enjoy it more than i think they would then MAYBE i will :’)
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