18 | blog for anyone unless stated otherwise | formula one enthusiast since 2020 | LN4, OP81, DR3, GR63, CS55, CL16… basically all the drivers requests are open!
Here's some important info to know about me! My (online) name is Jules, I am 18, and I absolutely love writing! I also love Formula One, which is why I am dedicated to writing one shots about this silly little sport.
What do I write? Just about anything! I am not 100% sure about writing anything 18+, but I could always give it a try if requested :)
Anyway, my requests are currently open! Please send them out!
Warnings: a little bit of angst, but mostly fluff, Charles being an amazing father, just lots of domestic fluff that was written for the purpose of self-indulgement. hope you enjoy!
Charles Leclerc had planned on settling down someday. Someday when he saw the chequered flag for the final time, when he stepped out of that cockpit and took his helmet off for the final time, never putting it back on.
He didn't expect to settle down in the middle of his career with a woman who was pregnant with another man's child. That was not part of his amazing life plan.
But in her defense, her daughter wasn't really in her plan either.
Middle of college and thought she was in love and suddenly, she's holding a positive test with the man who was supposed to protect her walking out, claiming he "was too young and wasn't ready".
As if she wasn't a year younger than him and even more unready for it.
So, she'd done the only thing she could think of doing. She appeared at Charles' penthouse with teary eyes and a weak shrug that said everything she couldn't say.
She just wanted a shoulder to cry on, for someone to tell her everything would be okay when she couldn't figure out how to tell her parents what was happening.
But what happened was better. Something she couldn't have ever dreamed of in those few short hours.
He gave her that shoulder, gave her the whispered words of assurance that she would get through it.
No. He hadn't said that.
"We'll get through this, I know we will."
That's what Charles Leclerc whispered into her ear that night as she sobbed. It seemed like some empty promise at the time. Something to make the tears stop, to get her to sleep and think a little more clearly without the emotions running high.
But when Charles Leclerc made promises, they were anything but empty.
They didn't ever do anything officially. He slowly started moving her into his penthouse. One load of laundry turned into all of her loads of laundry that found their way into the large walk-in closet in his bedroom, she had her own drawers in his dresser.
Her toothbrush found its spot next to his, her makeup and skincare products nestled on his sink and in his shower like they were always meant to be there, the random pregnancy cravings she seemed to always have were constantly in his fridge.
He went to every single one of her ultrasounds and appointments, holding her hand tightly with a soft smile that did more for her than any number of words would've ever been able to. She never asked, he would just say, "when is your appointment?" and he would have the car ready before she could even remember what day it was.
He was there when she was in the hospital, terrified and clutching onto his hand like her life depended on it, shaking her head and sobbing she couldn't, begging for it to be over.
But all he did was offer that same soft smile and kiss her temple, not at all bothered at her clammy skin and tear-stained cheeks, whispering a soft, "I know you can, ma belle."
After giving her a chance to hold the little girl, who at birth looked everything like her and nothing like her biological father (thank goodness), she carefully handed her over to Charles, who held her like she was the World Drivers Championship trophy, his eyes full of absolute love for this little baby.
"Marielle," she murmured tiredly, slumping back on the hospital bed as she looked up at them. "Marie for short."
He nodded slowly and glanced down at her and offered that soft smile. "Beautiful."
He never said if he was talking about the name, the baby in his arms, or her.
Charles did everything that his job allowed him to. When he was at the penthouse, he was always checking in, making sure that both of them were okay, changing diapers, always waking up in the middle of the night when all Marielle did was cry, when she was fussy with colic.
They never had those sleep deprived conversations about whose turn it was to check on Marielle, he was always getting up before she could protest, a soft kiss to her forehead and a murmured, "Back to sleep, ma belle, I'll be back."
Summer break and the off season was always the best. Charles had enjoyed those times the most before when he was home for more than a week at a time, enjoying the Monaco sun, maybe taking the boat out a few times and just simply living off the track (except for the constant "Charles Leclerc, can I get a photo?").
But now? Now he loved it, because he could be home with his girls and feel as though his life was perfect.
He watched as Marielle took her first wobbly steps, the way she giggled and filled the room with that smile, the way her little fingers clutched around his when he'd hold her.
He got to triumphantly grin when her first words were "Papa" and not "Mama". He sung to little Marielle in French, some lullabies from when he was a little boy. Bounced her in his arms as he cooked dinner, allowing her mama to take a nap on the couch or just watch him with a lazy smile.
And eventually she was a four. She was off to preschool, hair tied into small pigtails with a colorful dress and a bright smile, squirming away as they tried to get as many goodbyes as they could.
"Oh, Marie, you are simply the cutest little girl," she cooed softly, brushing Marielles hair back once more and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Maman!" Marielle protested and batted away her kisses and motherly touches. "I am not little, stop fussing!"
Charles chuckled lowly, the way he only did when he was amused by Marielle and all her childish ways. "Oh, but mon petite chou, you are very little."
Marielle stuck her tongue out before giving them each a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye and running into preschool without a look back.
She raised slowly. "She didn't look back," she said softly and looked up at him.
He shook his head. "We both knew she wouldn't."
Eventually, things were different.
It was a comment made in passing once. something she had said but didn't think he was fully listening. "If you ever propose, I want you to ask Marie first."
But he was listening.
It was a Sunday, one of the ones during summer break where they had nothing.
She woke up a little bit later to the sounds of food being prepared and the soft murmurs of something in French with the little giggles that Marielle seemed to have a never-ending amount of.
Charles was in the kitchen, making pancakes like he usually did when he had the chance to make his girls breakfast in the morning. This time, they were in the shape of hearts, probably a request from Marielle, and who was he to say no to her?
She pressed a kiss to Marielles hair with a murmured, "Morning, sweet girl," to which Marielle simply giggled more with a soft, "Morning, maman!"
Charles looked over his shoulder and sent her that soft smile, and it was just a usual, lazy Sunday morning as she walked up to Charles and wrapped her arms around him from behind, her head resting between his shoulder blades as she took in the sweet moment.
It wasn't often they got to have a life where the idea of Formula One was gone from their minds, and she relished in these moments, always latched onto them like it would be the last time.
She loved Formula One, loved how much Charles loved it. She loved going to the races and connecting with other drivers and their partners, loved knowing there were girls out there who were in similar relationships, with similar sentiments as her.
But she couldn't wait for the day he put that helmet up for good. When he drove his last lap and came home and simply never left.
But for now, she would remain in this perfect moment.
At some point, Marielle scampered off somewhere, some excuse of needing to grab a stuffed animal when Charles turned the stove off and did his best to look at her from their current position (it was not working). "You know... there's been something I've been meaning to ask you."
She gave a soft hum, not entirely uncommittable, but she was certain she knew what the question was.
Do you want to come to the next race in a few weeks when summer break is over? If your parents can't watch Marielle, mine can. Or... maybe Marielle is old enough to come watch?
He turned around in her arms and looked at her, pressing a soft kiss against her hair as he sighed, and she looked up at him.
And that's when she noticed how he had a hint of nervousness in his eyes, and that made her pause. Because he never got nervous.
"You know, you've given a man everything he could ever want," he murmured lowly, taking in a deep breath. "Apart from maybe one thing."
Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, eyes going slightly wide as he moved so he wasn't pressed against the stove anymore.
"Love that goes beyond my name, career, or money..." he continued, glancing briefly over her shoulder. "A perfect little girl, the perfect penthouse to come to after long weekends away..."
She heard the soft padding of footsteps as Marielle skidded to a halt beside Charles, shoving something into his hands with a smile. The smile that Marielle always had when she knew something you didn't.
"But what I've wanted most of all these past few years was to call you something other than ma belle," he says slowly. "Because as much as I love the pet name, there's something that I'd love even more."
He murmured her name softly, as though he was starting a prayer. "I know that this isn't the life you always planned out, that if you could do things differently, you probably would.
"But this is our life. It's messy and imperfect, but it's so... us. And I want this. I always have. You never had to ask if I wanted it, never had to ask me to do something, because I just did. I love you more than anything, I love Marielle more than anything and I want that to be screamed from the rooftops to the entire world."
He paused for a moment, a sheepish smile across his face as he slowly lowered to one knee, revealing the object Marielle gave him to be a small, velvet box.
"But I don't think my voice will carry that far, so I'm going for the next best thing." He opened the box and revealed a sparkling ring, the metal she always wore, the cut of diamond she had briefly mentioned once.
The dream engagement ring she didn't think she'd ever fully said 'this is what I want', but somehow, he just knew.
He whispered her name again. "Would you please do me the honor of marrying me, of letting me be your husband and you be my wife?"
She was frozen as Marielle eagerly bounced on her feet, grinning brightly.
It didn't seem real. This didn't happen to a girl who got pregnant at the worst time, who got left, who disappointed her parents, who found herself clinging onto her best friend who simply let her and never complained, and instead embraced it like it was always meant to be his job.
But it was happening.
So, she frantically nodded, her voice failing her as her bottom lip trembled slightly, eyes getting a little glassy as she finally managed a weak, "Yes, please."
And Charles smiled brightly, and Marielle erupted in giggles, "Mama and Papa are marrying!"
He carefully slid the ring onto her finger, a little cool at first, but warming up like it always belonged there.
There was no grand speech, no huge proposal at a restaurant or a beach or anything like that. Simply during a family breakfast, with a heartfelt declaration of true love and devotion.
It was perfectly them.
Jules speaks!
okay, thinking I might make a part two. but i also like how it ends, but also a wedding... a future house... ugh probably expect a part two that is more self-indulgent.
Oscar Piastri and his best friend were loaded. This meant the same summer holiday every single year to the same hotel in the beautiful city of Rome. It was always the same, but that never meant it was any less fun.
Except this time, they're eighteen, about to head off to University and suddenly.. things are a little different.
Warnings: none, just usual plot building for later :), enjoy!
The Hotel Eden in Rome was beautiful. It always was, but every summer, she seemed to think it would somehow become less beautiful. She wasn't sure why.
Maybe she though it's charm would wear out, that after countless summers spent here with her best friend by her side, it would lose its charm.
But it never did.
Summer began as it usually did for her.
Exams finished and after one long plane ride home from England all the way back to Australia, she was on yet another plane to Rome. Contant time-zone changes made her a little more irritable than usual as she sat in one of the uncomfortable airport benches, waiting for the taxicab to pick them all up from the airport. She had a half-drank Starbucks cup in one hand, leg bouncing as she messed with her suitcase handle with the other.
"You're holding onto that thing like it's the only thing keeping you alive," she heard a murmured voice.
She glanced up to see her best friend, the one and only Oscar Piastri, wearing that amused smile he seemed to always have when he was teasing her.
She scoffed as she took another sip of her coffee. "Are you saying the way we've changed time-zones three times in the last three days isn't affecting you?"
"Oh, it does," he said, that smile still on his face as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants. "I just seem to manage better than you."
She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. They were eighteen and still managed to bicker the same way they had when they were five.
There was a beat of silence. Not uncomfortable, but just a dull in conversation. Oscar enjoyed teasing her, to push her to the limits where she'd sigh and throw her hands up, saying his name in an exasperated tone. But he knew now wasn't the moment, that she'd probably throw the coffee at him if he pressed too much.
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, came over to let you know the cabs are here."
Her face lit up, finally, she thought. She quickly stood up and took another sip of her coffee as she took her suitcase handle in her free hand and the pair started to walk towards the drop-off/pick-up lane of the airport.
"Cab service got everything mixed up," Oscar started to explain as they walked, weaving their way through the crowds. "They sent the two, but they sent one regular cab and one minivan. Our parents will take the minivan; we'll take the regular cab to the hotel."
She snorted in amusement as she drained the rest of her coffee and tossed it in a trash can. "That's insane, the airline got the tickets messed up too!"
"This better not be some sign the entire holiday will go wrong," Oscar mumbled, but his voice was anything but annoyed. "Our last holiday before university and everything goes wrong, can you imagine?"
"Oscar Piastri, do not put that energy out there!" She scolded and reached a hand out to shove at his arm, laughing brightly.
They walked out of the airport doors and were greeted by their parents. His mother pointed to their cab with a soft smile. "Alright kids, there's your cab. We'll see you at the hotel, yeah?"
"No, we're gonna pay the driver to take us somewhere else," Oscar said dryly before making a small 'oof' noise as she shoved him again. "Ouch! Okay, yes, mum, we'll see you at the hotel."
His mother only laughed softly as she pressed a kiss to both of their cheeks before getting in the minivan, where each set of parents called out a brief goodbye and waves before the door shut and the vehicle was off and gone towards the Hotel Eden.
"My suitcase is already in the boot," Oscar murmured once the minivan turned the corner. "Here, I'll take yours, you get in the cab."
She would've protested, but he had already taken it from her grip and she knew when Oscar Piastri set his mind to something, there wasn't much you could do to change his mind.
She clambered into the backseat of the cab, offering a polite greeting to the driver before Oscar was in behind her and the cab was off towards their destination.
The ride was mostly silent, a mix of both of them still being jetlagged and taking in the streets of Rome as the car went through the streets.
No matter how many times they'd been here, Rome never stopped being beautiful, it never failed to capture her attention, never failed to make something in her heart flutter at it all, a small smile on her lips as her eyes darted all around.
Finally, they stopped in front of the hotel. The Hotel Eden was a beautiful building that fit right in with the surrounding buildings while also sticking out just slightly.
About six floors, a mixture of white and yellow brick with each window holding black shutters. It was one of the best hotels in Italy, if not Europe, and still managed to not be overly demanding for attention.
After a brief argument with one another, Oscar grabbed the suitcases from the boot and they walked into the hotel lobby, their parents already waiting.
She walked up to her parents, who handed her the keycard to her room. Her mother paused before handing it completely over. "Classic Room, as usual. Do not go overboard with the room service this year."
"Mum," she groaned as she snatched the keycard, and sent a scowl to her parents. "That was Oscar's idea, and you know it."
"Your idea or his, our credit card bill still faced the consequences," her father mumbled. "You must always remember-"
"Just because we have the money doesn't mean we spend it," she finished for him, and although she sounded rather annoyed, a smile played on her lips. "I know, I know."
Her parents gave her one last look before sighing and shooing her away. "We'll see you for dinner later."
"Alright, alright!"
She walked back to Oscar, who was standing awkwardly by the elevator for her. He glanced up from his phone when he saw her approaching and tucked it into his pocket. "Your parents give the whole money talk, too?"
She rolled her eyes with a nod. "They always do."
"Broken records, the lot of them," he murmured as he pressed the call button.
"Honestly, what do they expect when they book us connecting rooms?" She teased as she looked up at him. "They do realize that it'll only be worse now that we're eighteen and can legally drink here, right?"
They stepped into the elevator when the doors opened with a soft ding and the two walked in, Oscar still dragging their suitcases behind him. In typical Oscar fashion, he denied the bellhop.
"My, my," he whistled as he looked down at her. "You planning on getting wasted every night?"
"No," she said defensively. "More like every other night."
They fell into a comfortable fit of laughter as the elevator opened again, and they walked down the hall towards their rooms, and she finally took her suitcase back as she stood before hers.
"I'm thinking after dinner we have just a movie night?" She asked, sliding the card into her door.
He walked to the door next to hers. "First night of holiday and you're already wanting a night in." She went to make some remark, but he quickly cut her off. "Yes, yes, jetlag, I know."
She sent him a sidelong glance with a smirk as she rolled her eyes. "You're on thin ice, Piastri."
She didn't give him a chance to respond as she stepped inside her room.
The Classic Room at the Hotel Eden was the cheapest room at the hotel, but it was still well over 1,000 pounds a night and was still an impressive room.
She set her suitcase down and barely had a minute of peace before the door that joined their connecting rooms swung open and Oscar was waltzing in like it was his room.
"I'm always on thin ice with you, you're very short-" He began but was swiftly cut off with a pillow being thrown at his face. He paused for a moment as he blinked, but he wasn't shocked in the slightest. "...tempered."
"I am going to lock that door for the rest of the holiday if you start barging in unannounced just to pester me." She threatened with a pointed look.
He held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. No more pestering, noted."
She gave a flat hum as though she didn't fully believe him (because she didn't) before starting to unpack her suitcase. And all she could think about was how she couldn't wait to spend her holiday with her family and her best friend, the perfect send off before university where absolutely nothing out of the usual could happen.
jules speaks!
slowish first chapter, just plot stuff. it'll get more interesting, I swear!
nothing other than requests are open :), please feel free to send them in!
in the meantime, working on a multi part Oscar Piastri x reader where it takes place during a summer holiday in Italy. They're childhood best friends and Oscar isn't really in F1/racing in this, first chapter will be posted soon :)
↳ A/N I've been so inactive as I've been so busy irl and working on larger pieces (and also feeling demotivated) but I thought I would take a peek in the vault and find something to tide you over <3 Comments always, always very appreciated x
↳ Summary: As the weather warms, a springtime picnic is in order. A picturesque view from the flower fields of Southern France lays before you, but George only has eyes for you and that short little sundress that doesn’t seem to do his imagination any favours.
↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)
↳ Word Count: 7.3k
↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, very out in the open and public, exhibitionism, light bdsm vibes if you squint, soft!dom!George, oral sex (m receiving), light face fucking, dirty talk, degradation (pet names like 'slut' or 'whore'), use of 'sir', fingering, public orgasms, minor restraining with hands, groping, choking, spanking, his AMG1 is used for Not Driving Purposes, unprotected sex, unprotected creampie, getting caught x
“Instead of laughing at me, can you maybe help?”
George only bit back his grin at the sight of the wind taking the blanket again and throwing it back in your face when you tried to set it down. He stepped around the picnic basket and took the opposite edge of the plaid blanket from you to help spread it over the long grass and among the soft purple flowers that dotted the natural coast of Southern France. The ocean wasn’t far in the distance and at the height your spot was at, you could see clear over the rippling waves and out towards the horizon.
In the middle of the afternoon, you and George had decided to take your date out of the city and farther out into the fresh air. It was a spot he had found during one of his hikes and hadn’t shut up about wanting to take you there. He wasn’t wrong - it really was a perfect spot. With your packed lunch and a blanket to sit on in tow, you navigated the footpath through the thigh high purple flowers and grasses to a spot that was cleared enough for you to sit and enjoy the nature of springtime.
It was a beautiful day too with the sun high in the clear blue sky and warming your skin. Monaco never got too cold but it wasn’t until the break of the late spring warmth that you realized it hadn’t been that warm either. So, to make the most of your beautiful day, you finally pulled one of your sundresses out of your closet to wear over thin sandals.
The soft white fabric dotted in little purple and green flowers rested at your mid-thigh and puffed daintily at the sleeves with a wide neck that allowed you the addition of a necklace; none other than the dainty golden ‘G’ pendant that George had bought you for your anniversary. Every single glimpse he took of you that day had him licking his lips - although you were ignorant to his gawking.
You weren’t ignorant to his fleeting touches though; over your waist when you were getting ready in the bathroom mirror, over your arm when he opened the car door for you, or over your thigh as you sat in the passenger seat of his car for the drive up the coast. He was just as stunning to you as you were to him and as he drove - one hand on the wheel and the other on your lap - you kept catching yourself staring at him in his white button up shirt and light wash jeans and the sunglasses he wore just for the drive. The way his hand gripped your thigh and his thumb rubbed gently over your soft skin left your insides tingling with adoration.
Now, finally arrived at your picnic spot with the car left parked on the side of the two laned street, you were free to just be with each other.
You slipped off your sandals and sat yourself down carefully on the blanket, curling your legs up underneath you politely, and you watched George kick off his shoes too as he joined you with a relaxed sigh. For a moment, you let the silence linger between you as you stared out over the ocean in the distance and the flowers surrounding you and rustling in the spring breeze.
“You’re right,” you let the wind take your words as you tucked your hair behind your ear, “it’s perfect here.”
George tore his eyes from the view to look over at you instead and he smiled honestly, “Thought you’d like it.”
You leaned over to grab the picnic basket, “Shall we eat?”
Together, you unpacked your sandwiches and drinks and the few snacks you picked up on the way. You stayed sitting peacefully where you were, letting the breeze brush through your hair as you ate quietly, while George draped himself out on his side, leaning towards you and propped up on one arm to eat his lunch too. When you had a hand free, you helped yourself to his hair, pushing your fingers through the soft brunette waves.
“You’re so pretty,” you whispered.
He tilted his head back to look up at you mid-bite, his eyebrows furrowed at your surprise compliment and he spoke through his sandwich, “Says you.”
“I do say,” you agreed with a giggle.
George set his sandwich down as he finished the bite that was in his mouth and dragged his hand up your smooth leg, “You don’t know how much I’ve been staring at you today, have you?”
“Hm?”
“Yeah…you look so fucking gorgeous today.” George confessed, teasing the hem of your dress that was riding up around your thigh almost too high, “And I’ve just been thinking about all the things I want to do to you when we get home.”
“Oh my,” you chuckled breathily, “We can’t have one nice innocent date, can we?”
“Not with you in this short dress,” George licked his lips as his gaze was eye-level with your chest due to how he was positioned beside you.
“Go away!” you blushed, gently pressing your hand against his cheek to turn his head to look out towards the ocean again, “Eat your lunch, you dirty, dirty, man.”
George just laughed lightly and returned to his sandwich, leaving you with a flush to your cheeks and the springtime breeze. But you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been hoping for the same; having put on that dress just to spite him and to pull his hands to you. You knew that if your date was in public, his hand wouldn’t stray very far from you. You both had a hint of a possessive streak in you.
When lunch was finished and casual conversations faded into the silence of the afternoon, you found yourself relaxing into the blanket with your head on George’s lap and face to the sun. He was still draped on his side, picking at a flower he had taken from the surrounding nature haphazardly, and you rested almost opposite him with your head on his thighs and your hands folded neatly over your middle.
It was peaceful like that. Well, until George dragged the little purple flower over your inner thigh and the tickle made you startle. You nudged his hand away with a pout and he just laughed softly.
George shifted on the blanket so he was sitting up and you let him adjust but didn’t take your head from his lap, simply staring up at his handsome face as he propped his hands up behind him and gazed out over the world beyond. The wind ruffled his styled hair and the breeze kissed his cheeks and you were entranced by him and the way his hand rested casually on your thigh.
You stared up at him like he was a piece of artwork and let your mind be taken by the teasing words which he had whispered to you: all the things he wanted to do to you. You wondered if he was thinking those thoughts now as he drifted off to the distant ocean and budding flowers beyond your picnic spot. The way his thumb caressed your thigh was certainly an indication that he might have been but you didn’t dare interrupt his thoughts. In fact, you only wanted to fuel them.
So you rose up from his lap and set your hand on the opposite side of his body to face towards him slightly, pulling his attention from the world and back to you instead. The slight upturn of his pretty pink lips had you licking your own, hungry to taste his kiss more than anything you packed in your basket that day. Neither of you made a move first though, lingering on the bliss that was the anticipation and the adoration of each other that sufficed for the moment.
He was so gorgeous that it made your stomach flutter with the sweetest butterflies, urging you to be the one to finally break the silent staring the two of you shared. With a habitual lick to your lips to try and hide your smile, you leaned in towards him slowly and he met you halfway. With mirrored sighs, you shared a lingering kiss under the warmth of the sun.
George’s lips felt so soft that you couldn’t help yourself but lean in again when your first kiss broke, greedily reaching up to link your finger in the collar of his buttoned shirt to hold him close as you kissed him again. With a soft moan, George’s hand on your thigh gave a little squeeze and you opened up to let his tongue tease yours. You moulded together effortlessly, all too used to each other, and you slid your hand around the back of his neck tenderly as your kiss pulled him in.
George’s thumb caressed the soft warm skin of your inner thigh gently, tauntingly, letting his lips lead your afternoon rendezvous with simplicity. But when his fingers squeezed your flesh gently and urged a tight moan from your throat, he was turning greedy for more. His hands danced higher to rub your thigh in gentle pets up and down, sneaking just under the hem of your dress each time. Your lips stayed locked together through it all and even when your body naturally turned towards him a bit more.
“You’re so warm,” George spoke between kisses, his hand still teasing the fair skin of your inner thigh under the hem of your dress.
“You’re so handsome,” you complimented easily against his mouth, tangling your hand that wasn’t holding you up in the back of his hair.
“I love this dress on you,” he whispered, taking his hand from up your lap to trace the neckline carefully and down over the curve of your breasts.
You dusted kisses over his cheek bones as he distracted himself with your body but after mere seconds, you were getting impatient. You let your legs spread a little wider and as you pulled his lips back to yours, you had a soft demand, “Touch me.”
George gladly obeyed and kissed you passionately as his hand slid up the skirt of your dress again. He squeezed the flesh of your thigh and you sighed peacefully into his mouth between heavy kisses and he worked his way up tauntingly slowly. His finger naturally reached for the hem of your underwear, only to graze the skin of your hip instead. His furrowed eyebrows were hidden by his lips on yours and he blindly dragged his fingers over the curve of your hip.
Then he pulled away from your kiss with a soft smack, “Are you not wearing underwear right now?”
You bit your lip proudly and shook your head.
“Don’t-” George laughed almost disbelievingly as he tried to suppress a smile to the sky before he was lolling his head to the side to meet your cheeky gaze, “Don’t fucking play with me right now, love.”
“Wanna see for yourself?” you taunted.
George licked his lips as he stared at you as if processing your question but then his eyes were drifting down your body and his hand that was still up your skirt lifted up the thin material to your waist, revealing your completely bare body underneath.
“Holy fuck.” George chuckled lowly, licking and then biting his lips like it was second nature, taking you in with wide lustful eyes, “You never do this-”
“Why do you think I didn’t want to help load the car?” you laughed lightly, “One bend over and the surprise would be ruined…and the neighbours would get a free show.”
“Jesus Christ,” George breathed, nudging your legs a little farther apart to get a better look at you, “Yeah, this is some surprise alright.”
“Kiss me,” you ordered softly, nudging your lips back on his.
George turned his attention back to your kiss but his hand pushed your dress up higher to keep it bunched up around your middle so he could have free reign of your body. You left your legs spread lazily for him but kept your hand on the back of his neck to hold his mouth on yours as he pulled strong kisses from your lips. The springtime breeze pulled the wet smacks of your lips and tongues away to the ocean beyond as well as the soft moan you let out when the pad of his thumb brushed against your clit.
You were addicted to his lips and you couldn’t get enough. They fit with yours so perfectly and they were so sweetly soft that you couldn’t help but suck softly on his bottom lip before opening up for more. George kept up with your eagerness easily and he toyed with your clit in gentle strokes that had your skin flushing hot - and not from the afternoon sun.
“Can’t believe you didn’t wear panties under this short dress,” George breathed into your mouth.
“Can’t believe it took you that long to notice,” you teased right back.
He groaned at your little jab and you only giggled proudly as he leaned in for more wet kisses, his little punishment being a sharp slap to your clit. You just moaned and tilted your head to let him kiss you deeper and his fingers slid down between your legs to glide over your pussy, feeling the way your hips ground against his hand. But then you were pulled away from his lips and his fell in a natural little pout at your missing contact, dilated blue eyes unwavering from your face as you shifted around on the blanket and let his hand be taken from between your legs.
Instead, you positioned yourself between his legs on hands and knees and sat back on your heels to let yourself unbuckle his belt. George leaned back on one hand with a breathy exhale and let his other hand cradle your face and pull you in for more hungry kisses. You welcomed his sloppy kisses gladly, sharing soft moans and quivering breaths as you finished with his belt and then popped the button on his jeans.
“Holy shit.” George leaned back on both hands as you broke your kiss to shuffle his pants and underwear down to his thighs and he shifted slightly to help you with it.
You licked your lips and tossed your hair over your shoulder as you got your first glimpse of his cock and your right hand wrapped around it possessively, “You’re so hard already.”
“If it wasn’t due to you in this tiny little dress, you going commando certainly was the cause of it,” George explained casually.
You smiled up at him as you lowered down to his lap and kissed the tip of his dick before swirling your tongue around it innocently. With the view of the ocean and the coast beyond, George relaxed back on his hands and let himself breathe through the anticipation as you touched him so gently. Habitually, he glanced over his shoulder back towards the road at the top of the flower trampled footpath but your spot was completely private as the roadside was trimmed in bushes and foliage and the two-laned road wasn’t often traveled.
Comfortable with only him and you in the privacy of nature, George nudged you away slightly just so he could get his legs underneath him and kneel on the picnic blanket. He held his button up shirt out of the way with one hand - revealing his abs to your hungry face - and his other hand guided your head back in as you fed his dick into your mouth. On your hands and knees, you were at the perfect angle and you moaned gladly around his thick cock as you took him in against your tongue.
George watched you gladly down his body as your hand around his dick worked in steady time with your wet mouth, taking him in snugly again and again with just the right amount of suction. He exhaled shakily to the flowers surrounding you and you peered up at him sweetly to meet his lustful gaze.
He was only stiffening up more in your mouth and you moaned gladly around him and slowed down with a hollow of your cheeks to really help him along. You pulled off him with a filthy pop and let your hand do the work as you leaned up expectantly for a kiss. George complied, of course, and cradled your jaw in his hand as his tongue met yours and his lips followed. You jerked him off ungracefully as you kissed and when he pulled away to straighten up again, he just pulled the skirt of your dress up higher to reveal your bare ass to him. You dropped your mouth back down on his dick and picked up where you left off just to hear his low moan.
George spanked your ass, “Good girl.”
You nuzzled your face down deeper and stayed there for a second, cupping his balls in your hand to tighten around all of him. He groaned shakily and his hand tangled in your hair to hold you down for a moment. You pulled back with a gag and merely blinked up at him as you picked up again with eager bobs of your head and slick strokes of your hand.
“Shit, love, look at you,” George praised.
You pulled off his dick with a messy slurp and then dipped down to take one of his balls in your mouth to suck on gently as your hand picked up the slack. George moaned heavenly, his bottom lip tight between his teeth, and his eyes fluttered as you sucked on them…and then the other.
But there was nothing better than having your mouth stuffed with his cock and you soon sank your mouth down on him again, gargling spit around him as he took up your mouth. You led with your tongue as you bobbed your head in strong savouring motions, letting yourself drool down his dick as your tongue licked up the underside in time with your strokes.
George spanked your ass again and again and then set his hand on the back of your head to follow your motions, “Such a good little cockslut.”
You moaned around him and pulled back just far enough to leave the tip in your mouth and you suckled greedily around it, letting your hand pump him messily while you sucked and moaned around his swollen head. George wrapped your hair around his fist and with the hungry groan that fell from his chest, he was pulling you down again. You let him have you as he wanted, even when he started to thrust shallowly into your throat.
He forced gags from your mouth but you took it all gladly and still tried to move in time with him, wanting to please him more than anything. You had been eyeing him all day…ready and impatient to get on your knees for him. In fact, you took your hands away completely and he shifted towards you a little just so he could stay deep in your mouth as you let him do what he pleased.
“Ugh, yes,” he groaned softly, staring down at you as he held your hair in his hand and thrusted his dick into your throat, gently fucking gags from your mouth that you took gladly, “That’s my good girl. My good little slut.”
You whimpered for him, fingers bunching around the picnic blanket beneath you as he used your mouth. You tried not to be much louder than the quiet buzz of insects in flowers surrounding you or the faint rush of the ocean in the distance but it was hard to control yourself around him. When you reached back up to take his cock in your hand, he slowed his hips to let you take the pace again. It was always give and take.
You pulled strong twisting strokes along his dick and sucked greedily on the tip with your eyes focused up his body. George’s deep moans had you blushing, feeling yourself dripping down your thighs, and you slapped the head of his cock against your tongue.
“You want it, my love?” George taunted softly, nudging your hand away so he could do it himself, slapping his cock against your waiting wet tongue, “Want me to cum in your sweet little mouth?”
“Yes, sir,” you answered easily, voice dripping in lust all for him.
“Then stay right there,” George instructed tightly as he started to jerk himself off right in front of your face.
You kept your tongue out and mouth open, licking at the head of his cock as it brushed against your tongue and you wiggled your ass for him impatiently.
“Fuck, that’s it, look at that face,” George groaned, his eyebrows furrowing in lustful concentration as his hand rubbed himself off in slick strokes thanks to your spit that coated him filthily, “Shit, I’m gonna fill that slutty little mouth up.”
You fisted the blanket tightly since that was all you could do, peering up at him with soft little anticipatory whimpers felt against the sensitive tip of his cock. George’s breath shuttered in his chest and the first streak of cum fell across your cheek but you instantly dropped your mouth down around him with a snug hollow of your cheeks and a sweet moan that had him gripping your hair instead and bucking into your mouth.
His wavering moans were taken by the springtime breeze and his head tilted back with pleasure as he came in your warm mouth. You slid one hand around the back of his thigh to hold him in your mouth as you choked tightly around the thick spurts that filled you up. When he was finished and you pulled away, you swallowed gladly and wiped up the sting of cum and spit from your chin as you sat back on your heels.
“Holy shit, baby,” George panted lightly and leaned in to kiss you.
You raised your hand up to the side of his face and kept him close as you locked your lips in deep passionate kisses made warm by the afternoon sun. He pulled up his pants again and buckled them up blindly as you shared your kisses and then little smiles when you had to separate to breathe.
George shifted to sit on the picnic blanket once more and you draped yourself between his legs to rest back against his chest. He held himself up on his left hand just behind his body while his right wrapped around your throat and guided your lips to his over your shoulder. With the view of the ocean and coast beyond you, you relaxed together at your picnic spot, chests heaving and blushing cheeks hidden by lustful kisses.
“Fuck, I love you,” George whispered, pulling back from your lips and he dusted a kiss to your temple.
“I love you,” you grinned dizzily, warmed with passion and the ache between your legs.
Your dress was still riding up dangerously high and you slipped a hand underneath to touch yourself, finding just how wet you were already and unbothered by any fabric. George’s hand followed yours and he pulled up your dress around your middle and nudged your hand away so he could feel for himself. His two fingers glided down between your parted legs to smear your warm wetness over your flushed skin, feeling how it already coated your inner thighs and over your entire pussy. You were soaked.
“Sucking dick really turns you on, doesn’t it, my love?” George taunted against your ear, “You’re a dripping mess.”
You hummed in agreement and spread your legs a little wider to let him move his hand as he wished, both of your eyes focused on what he was doing as he slid his fingers up and down between your folds.
“Christ, you’re soaking my fingers,” George breathed, pulling his hand back just enough to show how your arousal clung to his fingertips in glistening thick strings, “Fuck.”
You bit your lip proudly and hooked your feet over his ankles to hold your legs spread, trying to keep yourself from pushing your hips up against his hand for more. But he gladly brought his hand back down and he rubbed at your pussy again as his lips kissed the corner of your mouth until you turned to kiss him properly. The wet slick sound that his fingers made over your body was arousing and he pulled back to smack his three fingers down against you, making you jump.
You pulled your lips from his with a soft moan and you looked back down your body as he slapped your pussy again. His breathing against your cheek had you shivering but his fingers just rubbed you faster before stopping every once in a while to leave a filthy wet smack right there. He soon had you grinding against his hand desperately.
“Look at this messy little pussy,” George spoke lowly against your ear, “Absolutely fucking dripping…my pretty girl just wants to cum so bad for me.”
“Shit,” you huffed, “Please, sir.”
“Yeah?” George chuckled breathily, patting quick little slaps against your clit that made the filthiest wet sounds. He pulled his hand back as your legs started to curl up with a little whimper and he licked his fingers just to taste you before he was rubbing at your clit.
“Oh my God,” you whimpered out, leaning yourself back against his chest as your legs stayed spread for him, your eyes focused down to his hand rubbing easy little circles over your clit.
“That’s it,” he praised softly, “Does that feel good, baby?”
You only nodded and reached up to pull his lips on yours. He melted into your kiss easily and his hand didn’t falter between your legs, keeping his precise consistent pace as he forced his tongue in your mouth. You moaned into his mouth and kissed him hard right back, feeling that incredible warmth rushing over you.
“Please, sir,” you squeaked, tearing your lips from his as it got too much. Your eyes were focused on his fingers swirling quickly between your legs but you were struggling to keep your eyes open and legs spread with that growing tightness inside you, “Please don’t stop.”
“Mm mm.” George agreed with a shake of his head, “You’re such a good girl for me…wearing this perfect little tiny dress without panties…sucking my cock like a good little whore…you definitely get to cum.”
“Please,” you gasped in appreciation, pulling your legs back wider for him, your breath falling rapidly as your pleasure grew under the quick control of his fingers, “I’m your good girl.”
“Yeah, you are,” George praised against your ear, “And my good girl is gonna cum all over my fingers, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir. Please, sir.” you begged. “Gonna cum.”
“Mhm,” George encouraged lightly, rubbing your swollen clit at that same quick pace no matter how much you started to shutter, “Good girl.”
With a small cry, you were coming under his hand, your body tensing slightly at the pleasure overcame you and George kept rubbing you through it as he moaned into your neck and held you close. When you pushed his hand away in overwhelm, he let his lips find yours in sloppy blissful kisses and his wet fingers stroked your jaw tauntingly.
“Mm, I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, letting his hand fall into yours blindly and your fingers linked together.
“I love you,” George breathed.
He pushed your skirt down to cover you up again and you discreetly rubbed your thighs together with how uncomfortably dripping wet your orgasm made you. You played it cool though and laid in his arms as you overlooked the ocean together and let the serenity of nature relax you. A perfect afternoon date having gone from sweet to salacious in an instant but that wasn’t odd for the two of you.
You were too in love with each other for anything else, loving the physical touch of the one you loved most and the shot of dopamine that pleasure brought. Only the safest and most addicting drug. Not to mention the warmth of your skin that pressed together so perfectly, fingers laced together and breaths in steady time as the wind swirled peacefully around you.
George dusted a kiss to your cheek, “Can I take you home?”
You leaned back against his shoulder to peer up at him and ran your fingers through his hair, “Yeah. Please.”
You shared a quick kiss and then you both started to pack up your picnic. Shoes were put back on and the basket was packed and the blanket was folded up and you smoothed down your dress to make sure it was covering you properly. Leaving your flower field held a moment of melancholy in your heart but the excitement of what could be waiting for you at home lured you away with ease.
George held your hand and led you back up the footpath through the tall grasses and purple flowers, the basket and blanket both in his other arm. You clung onto his hand lovingly and watched your step as you navigated the field in your sandals and short dress, making sure the wind wasn’t going to take your skirt with it. George guided you up the slight embankment towards the road and when you reached the top, he helped you step over the overgrowing foliage onto the gravel shoulder where he had parked his car earlier.
The Mercedes AMG1 waited for you patiently on the side of the two-laned highway that twisted and turned through the south of France. It wasn’t a busy road as cars only drove past once in a while so it was a perfect spot as your own little hide away into the purple fields beyond. George took his keys from his pocket and unlocked the car and you took the initiative to take the basket and blanket from him to load it into the car. You assumed he would take that time to start the car but, instead, he stayed close behind you and watched as you bent over in the privacy of nature to set your things inside.
Your dress rode up as you did so, pulling up just over your bum so he got a straight view of your glistening pussy and your soft round ass. Licking his lips and staring at you shamelessly, George didn’t move from his spot. He was already growing hard from how you came so easily on his fingers and now he just didn’t think he could wait until he got you home to do more.
When you stood up and turned around only to find him standing right there, you startled slightly, “Jesus, love. What are you doing?”
George just licked back his cocky grin and grabbed your wrist to pull you closer, “Come.”
He closed the door and then led you around to the front of the luxury car without another word. You followed trustingly, even when he nudged you forward against the hood of his car and pushed up the skirt of your dress to spank you hard.
“George!” you gasped.
“I can’t wait until we get home,” he said strongly, spanking you again, “I need you now.”
You wiggled your ass back against his hand with a proud little smirk of your own, the thrill that his suggestion pushed through you allowing you to answer with ease, “Yes, sir.”
George crouched down behind you and spread your ass cheeks to see your glistening pussy right in front of his face. With a hungry moan, he dived right in tongue first, nuzzling his face between your legs to lick sloppily at your dripping cunt. You groaned lowly and slumped forward onto your forearms against the shiny hood, the metal slightly warm to the touch due to the springtime sun.
You were quite literally out in the open right there, right on the side of the road, bent over the front of his custom car with your dress up around your waist. It had your heart pounding in your chest from more than just the lewd position he had you in. Being risky wasn’t new for you but being this risky was something else entirely.
George didn’t waste too long on his knees, just getting enough of a taste of you on his tongue to last and he spit strongly onto your pussy just to make sure you stayed nice and wet for him. He stood back up and unbuckled his belt hurriedly and popped the button of his jeans with one hand as he rubbed his fingers between your legs.
“This dress is a fucking sin, darling,” George spoke lowly to you, bunching up your skirt behind your back as he dragged the head of his dick between your legs, tapping it teasingly against your pussy a little bit.
“Wore it just for you,” you answered sweetly.
“Uh huh?” George chuckled, not wasting one more second before he was pushing strongly into your warm tight body.
Your mouth fell open and your face scrunched in slight discomfort as he stretched your muscles around his thick girth and your fingers pressed against the painted hood of his car. He didn’t take it slowly as he slid completely inside you and held you right up close so you could feel him all so deep with his balls pressed to the curve of your ass and thighs.
“Oh my God-” you stumbled out.
The words were barely out of your mouth before he was grabbing the bunched up material of your dress and tugging you back into his quick thrusts with both hands. Your breath halted in your throat for a second, mouth agape.
“Fuck, that’s it,” George said through his teeth, “You’re so tight, darling, Christ.”
As your body fell into the pleasure of it all, groans and gasps of ecstasy fell from your mouth and you pushed your ass back into him eagerly. George spanked you again and then reached that hand up to wrap around your throat and tug your head up.
“Shit!” you squeaked.
“Take it,” George ordered, nudging your feet a bit farther apart so he could get deeper and his hand tightened around your throat as he fucked you over the hood of his car, “My pretty little whore is gonna take my cock whenever I wanna give it to her, isn't that right, sweetheart?”
“Yes, sir,” you answered easily.
“Yeah, that’s my good girl,” George groaned tightly.
His hand around your throat and his hand gripping the back of your dress kept him tugging you hard into his sloppy thrusts that hit so hard you swore you were getting breathless. You were lucky the road was virtually vacant because you couldn’t seem to control the moans that tumbled from your throat, not to mention how visible you both were; the only hint of cover being his car you were bent over.
Your necklace dangled daintily from your neck, missed by his snug hand, and the small ‘G’ pendant caught the light of the afternoon sun and glinted in the reflection of the windshield. You felt so totally encompassed by him, taken by him, and there was truly nowhere else you’d rather be with. Not like that.
“I’m yours,” you breathed out.
“You’re mine?” George chuckled lowly and tugged your head up farther so your back was arched for him and your hands fell flat against the hood of the car, “Yeah, you’re mine, my filthy little cockslut, aren’t you?”
“Uh huh!” you squeaked out as he fucked you harder, hitting so deep at that angle that you swore you were getting dizzy. “Ohhh God-”
“Does that feel good, baby?” George cooed against your ear tauntingly, his breath hot against your skin and you sunk your teeth down into your bottom lip as his hand tightened around your throat and his body took yours right up against his car, “Does my thick fucking cock feel so good in your tight little pussy? Hm? This what you wanted? Wearing no panties under your dress so I could bend you over and fuck your slutty little pussy whenever I wanted?”
“Yes!” you choked out, “Yes, sir, you feel so good-”
He spanked you again without letting up on how hard he was fucking you, “Good girl.”
The car was nearly rocking under your hands with how hard he was taking you and his lips attached to your neck with hungry moans, sending shivers down your spine at his touch and how loving he could be even when he was taking it rough. You could feel yourself absolutely dripping for him, only slicking up his cock more and more to just make it easier for him to take you how he wanted. And you fucked yourself back on him greedily too, earning another spank from your boyfriend’s hand.
“Yes!” you gasped out, slowly slumping down onto your forearms again, “Yes!”
The best part about nature is volume wasn’t an issue and although you could be as loud as you wanted, you still muffled your mouth into the crook of your arm as your chest pressed down against the car. Your moans were fucked from your throat by George’s greedy strokes and his hand moved from your throat to your shoulder to keep you right where he wanted you as he fucked you hard.
You pulled your right leg up onto the hood of the car with you to stretch yourself open and permit him deeper. Right away, he was making use of that as both of his hands went to your shoulders, thumbs linked in the hem of your dress to hold it up and give him a clear view of your ass and half up your back, and he was fucking you deeper.
“Oh f-fuck, sir-” you squeaked, resting your cheek on your opposite arm against the hood as you peered back at him, your thumb resting between your teeth with the onset of overwhelming pleasure.
“Good girl…good fucking girl,” George praised through his teeth.
“Fuck me!” you cried out, “Beat it up, baby! Faster-”
“What a slut,” George hissed, really anchoring his hands on your shoulders as he rammed into your body and your slick skin clapped together filthily, “Want it rough, baby? Never enough for you, huh?”
The sound of a car approaching from the distance around the curving two-laned highway had you anxiously tensing up around him, pulling a tight grunt from his chest. Over the top of the car, George could see the headlights of a stranger's car coming around the bend.
“O-Oh shit-” George chuckled lowly, keeping his quick pace into your body even when you tried to push up onto your forearms to play it cool.
“Don’t stop,” you whispered pleadingly over your shoulder to him.
You really didn’t want him to stop. George didn’t either. You didn’t give the passing car a second glance as it sped right by, even when it honked its horn a few quick beats, having clearly seen the show you were putting on on the side of the road. George just laughed proudly and shoved your chest back down against the hood of his car and pounded you against the warm white metal.
“Yeah, my girl is a fucking slut,” George taunted with a smirk, “Only thinks with her pussy…letting anyone see her getting fucking railed on the side of the road, huh?”
“Yes, sir. Please, sir.” you whispered loudly. “Please, I wanna cum for you.”
“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” George said, still thrusting hard into your quivering body. “You gonna cum for me and milk my fucking cock so I fill you up?”
“God, yes, please-”
“Yeah? You want me to cum so fucking deep inside you, baby?”
“Yes, sir!” you cried out, reaching forward to grab onto the edge of the windshield where the hood of the car ended as something to keep you stable and you let your head drop forward as he fucked the moans from your chest uncontrollably. You were shuttering under his control and you could feel yourself succumbing to him, gripping tighter around his thick cock that plowed its way inside you, “Fuck, George-”
“Cum for me,” he ordered, his voice tight as if he were holding himself back too, “Cum for me, my perfect little slut.”
Your back arched slightly to feel him as deep as he could go and you strained through your pitchy whimper as you let yourself go for him, gripping onto the warm metal he had pressed you down into and you filled the springtime breeze with your moans. George, with his hands still tight to your shoulders, tugged you back onto his dick right through your orgasm to chase his own, grunting prettily with each sharp puncture as your pussy gripped so tightly around him.
“Fuck-” he groaned lowly, “Yeah-”
When he leaned down over you, you reached back to grab the back of his neck and held his face close, ordering breathlessly, “Don’t pull out.”
“Mm mm.” George answered easily, fucking you sloppily right down over the hood of his car until it was literally rocking underneath you, “Gonna cum so deep inside you.”
“Please-”
“Mhm-” George’s foot skidded slightly over the gravel as he shoved into you one more time when he finally came. His deep reverberating groans and shaky little gasps fell against your ear and your eyes literally rolled with bliss at the feeling of him spurting warmly inside you.
“Oh my God,” you breathed, streaking your hand along the smooth metal of the car.
“Mm, fuck, baby,” George huffed against your flushed skin.
He left a fleeting kiss to your neck and then stood up again, holding you down by your waist so you were still bent over his car. You held yourself up on your forearms and stared at him through the reflection of the windshield as he licked his lips and pulled slowly out of your aching pussy. You bit your lip tightly at the sudden emptiness and your muscles clenched habitually, pushing a thick drop of cum right back out and it fell onto the shiny silver Mercedes logo at the front of the hood and slipped down onto the gravel road below you.
“Shit.” George groaned and dragged his fingers through the mess that seeped out of you.
“Was that okay?” you asked sweetly, pushing back against his fingers.
George unbuttoned his white shirt and pulled it off to clean you up, “Are you kidding? That was fucking insane, love.”
You smiled proudly and he let you turn around to lean back against the hood of the car and faced him and as he moved in to kiss you, you took his shirt from him to keep between your legs for a little longer as he buckled up his pants. On the side of the road, you shared soft breathless kisses and giddy little smiles, nothing but innocently standing as another car sped past the scene.
“Ready to go home?” George asked against your lips.
You stroked your hand down his bare chest, and brushed your nose against his, “Yeah.”
“Good afternoon?”
You bit back your bashful grin, “Amazing afternoon.”
“Wanna get ice cream on the way back?”
You threw your arm around his shoulders and kissed him hard once more before pulling away with a lovesick sigh, “Yeah, it’s official; I’m so in love with you.”
George grabbed your ass over the thin material of your sundress, “And I am so in love with you in this dress.”
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thinking about writing a multi chapter fic about reader and Oscar being childhood to high school best friends and they’re also just rich and their parents take them to Italy every year - but this summer it’s before they’re off to university (Oscar might not be a racer in this AU) and they realize their feelings for each other? came to me in a dream the other day.
thinking about writing a multi chapter fic about reader and Oscar being childhood to high school best friends and they’re also just rich and their parents take them to Italy every year - but this summer it’s before they’re off to university (Oscar might not be a racer in this AU) and they realize their feelings for each other? came to me in a dream the other day.
if i had a nickle for every time lando tried to overtake the championship leader that resulted in a collision where he himself dnfs but the other guy continues and george russell wins the race, i'd have two knickles which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice
↳ A/N Lovely @lipstickandliveries helped me to come up with this idea as I love to lean into the imperfectness of our seemingly perfect universe we have going here <3
↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)
↳ Word Count: 3.4k
↳ Warnings: Minor descriptions of injuries, yelling, scolding a child, parallels to panic attacks, parental guilt, angst.
George finally felt like he could properly breathe for the first time in ages once the taxi pulled through the front gates of your marital home. After one of the worst race weekends he had in a while—finishing outside the points in a car that was basically falling apart beneath him that it was a miracle he finished at all—all he could count on was flying home and forgetting it ever happened. It wasn’t easy, by any means, as his flight was delayed and caused him to have to try and sleep in the airport as he waited for boarding, making the trip home far more irritating than it should have been.
But, no matter, because after such a tumultuous weekend and a lengthy taxi ride from the airport, he was within sights of home. And beneath the early summer sun, his family was waiting for him outside, the kids playing on the spacious lawn and you sitting on the front porch steps. For a moment, it all felt right again.
You called the kids over to get out of the way of the taxi as it pulled into the dirt driveway and George hurried to pay the driver before climbing out. You were only able to hold them back for so long before they were rushing over to greet him after his five days away, wrapping themselves around him as he took his bag from the trunk of the car. Tired but glad to be home, George tried to keep up with all of their words as they spoke over each other to tell him all about what they did while he was away.
The taxi departed and George herded the kids towards the front porch, stopping just long enough to scoop up your toddler into his arms so she wouldn’t be stampede by her elder brother and sister. Lawrence and Charlotte flanked him as he walked towards the house, pulling his suitcase behind him, talking his ear off excitedly. He humoured them the best he could despite his exhaustion although silently, he could only pray for some peace and quiet.
When he reached the porch, you smiled up at him from your spot on the steps and he leaned down to greet you with a soft kiss.
“Welcome home,” you whispered sweetly.
“God knows I’m glad to be home,” he replied just as softly, despite the way the older two were still yapping away.
Lawrence tapped his arm, “Dad, did you hear me?”
Charlotte, from his other side, tugged on his sleeve, “Daddy!?”
“Okay,” you cut in, already knowing just how much George liked calm and silence after landing from a busy weekend, “go play, leave Daddy to catch his breath. You can talk his ear off at dinner, alright?”
The older two frowned as if about to protest but they didn’t mind returning to their playing and so they left you both alone. With a tired grunt, George sat down on the porch step beside you, placing two-year-old Beatrice on her feet between his legs and she hobbled off to you, instead, as you still held the container of bubbles in your hands.
Her little hands rested on your knees before reaching one up to you in sweet plea, “Bubba, Mumma.”
“Bubbles?” you smiled at her and unscrewed the cap again to pull out the wand and blow some more bubbles over her head in the summer sunshine. She squealed and hopped around, trying to swat at them.
George chuckled softly at the cute sight and then let his gaze raise to the older two who had returned to their bikes as they pedaled across the grass of the front lawn. It once bothered him to see the tire tracks ruin his grass but living in the countryside, you would much prefer them to ride on your property than risk the narrow-laned road of rural England. George raised his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun as he watched them pedal back and forth across the lawn.
He called out to them, “No biking near the cars, remember!”
Back came Lawrence’s easy, “We know!”
George turned back to you and the youngest and he rested his elbows on the step behind him to relax into the familiarity of home. You spoke together about the weekend and he unloaded his frustrations from the race and the flight, how he barely slept in the uncomfortable airport while waiting for the delayed flight, and he rehashed how he missed his usual evening flights where he would get home once the kids were in bed and he would be able to have a moment of quiet. He loved the children, of course, that was a given, but after a long weekend of work and a day of traveling, the last thing he really wanted to do was entertain them. You held grace for that.
When he finished ranting about his awful weekend, you set your hand on his thigh, “Did you want to go inside and take a nap before dinner? I can keep the kids out here and busy so it’s quiet.”
He smiled tiredly at you but before he could even open his mouth to reply, there was an unmissable crash from across the lawn, like that of metal on metal, and the two of you looked over towards the sound. Charlotte was sprawled out on the dirt driveway, bike in a heap beneath her, right beside George’s precious vintage Mercedes 280SL that now housed a nasty scratch across its pristine paint job.
Your heart fell into your gut. Before you could offer any sort of calm to the situation, George was already on his feet and storming across the driveway towards her. You stayed put, letting him handle what he needed to while you kept a watchful eye.
“Charlotte Alison Russell!” he shouted, angrily, voice echoing across the property.
The nearly-seven-year-old scrambled to her feet, knees and hands muddy and scraped but her eyes were as wide as saucers as she stared at the damage done to her father’s car. She looked at him as he approached and right away he was grabbing her wrist and yanking her a step away from the car.
“What did I tell you? Huh?” he spoke down to her firmly, “No bikes near the cars!”
“S-Sorry!” she stumbled out meekly as if she had still yet to properly process what had happened.
“You can’t ever listen to what you’re told, can you?” George scolded.
Charlotte pouted up at him, “It was an accident!”
“No, it wasn’t an accident! You had no reason to be over this side of the driveway. You didn’t listen to me and you just did whatever you want like you always do!” George was holding her little wrist firmly in his hand, not enough to hurt her, but enough to prove a point, to keep her listening to him. With his other hand he pointed to the nasty scratch on the side of the vintage car, “Look what you did.”
Charlotte bowed her head and scrunched her eyes closed.
“Look at it!” George tugged at her wrist to get her to listen to him.
She forced her eyes open to look at the scratch that blossomed shame in her little heart and a pit in her stomach and she let out a small sob. She had never seen him this angry before, especially towards her, and the intensity of his wrath was overwhelming, fat tears dripping down her cheeks as she stared at the damage done.
“You know how much these cars mean to me and you ignored my rule and went and ruined one. You ruined something that doesn’t belong to you.” George bent down as if to make sure she was hearing every word, “You are a naughty, disobedient, selfish little girl.”
Charlotte sobbed harder, her cries echoing across the property as she was trapped there by the grip of her father’s hand around her wrist, forced to face the damage she caused. She was nearly choking over her tears, struggling to catch her breath with how hard she was crying, her chest heaving with breathlessness and her legs trembling beneath her.
Across the lawn, Lawrence had discarded his bike onto the grass to join you on the steps, finding comfort in your presence as his normally level-headed father lost his temper. You had Beatrice on your lap and your arm around Lawrence, watching closely in case you needed to intervene. But you knew George wouldn’t do anything drastic despite his anger and so you let him handle the situation as he needed, knowing that appearing as a united front was the best way to tackle such situations.
Without another word, George bent down to pick up Charlotte’s pink bike by its frame, holding it in one hand and her wrist in the other and he turned them away from the car. She stumbled over her feet a bit with how abruptly he turned and yanked her away and she cried on as she was forced to hurry after him.
“No more biking, no more playing outside,” George said firmly, setting her consequences into place right away, “until you can learn how to listen to rules.”
“I’m s-sorry!” Charlotte hiccuped through her sobs, “Daddy! I’m sorry!”
But he was long since willing to hear her out, not about to give into her tear-filled puppy eyes again, and he barely even looked at her as he tossed her bike onto the walkway and pulled her up the front steps, right past you, and towards the front door. You set Beatrice onto the step and stood up after them to follow them into the house.
“Shoes off,” George ordered to your eldest daughter sternly.
“Hey,” you said softly to him, setting a hand on his back as Charlotte struggled to toe off her muddy pink sneakers with her wrist still held by his firm grasp. George looked at you, almost as if you had shaken him from his tunnel vision of anger. You gave him an out with a whisper, “I got her. Go sit down.”
George hesitated for just a moment but as his firmness was faltering under the steadfast presence of your hand and your backup, he finally relented and nodded. He let go of Charlotte's wrist and stepped back outside to leave you to take care of the aftermath.
You crouched down in front of the little girl to unfasten the velcro on her sneakers so she could slip her socked feet out of them, the house silent except for her sniffles and sobs. For a moment, you just looked at her and the poor, pathetic look at her little face and her hands and knees scuffed up from her crash, legs trembling from adrenaline. With a sigh, you reached up to wipe some tears and dirt from her cheek and she sucked in a jagged breath.
“Take a slow, deep breath for me, my love,” you spoke gently to her.
Your gentleness in comparison to the anger she had just been on the receiving end of seemed to surprise her and she blinked at you through her tears as if wondering if she was hearing you right. But then she tried to pull in a breath, shallow and raspy, and it came back out with a hiccuping sob.
“Another,” you gently rested your hand on her chest, “Nice and deep.”
Charlotte tried again and she watched you as you breathed with her, trying to follow your guidance and mirror you. After a few shared breaths, she was able to breathe a bit better, although her tears were still falling and her legs were still shaking.
“Good,” you rubbed her chest comfortingly and then wiped her cheeks with your thumb again, “Now let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”
She nodded and as you stood back up, you ushered her towards the stairs. You followed closely behind as she pulled her quivering legs up the stairs and to the second floor and you led her into your ensuite bathroom where the first aid kit was. Once inside, you helped Charlotte sit up on the counter and she waited patiently as you dampened a washcloth to help to clean her up from the dirt that stained her skin.
As you took the warm cloth to her knees, she whimpered, the skin torn and bruised and sensitive. You moved gently, dabbing the dirt away tenderly so as to not cause her any more discomfort.
After a moment, you asked her softly, “Dot, can you tell me why you rode your bike near Daddy’s cars?”
She sniffled and wiped the back of her hand under her runny nose, “I wanted to go fast on the driveway. I didn’t know I’d go that way.”
“Mm, I understand,” you nodded, validating her thoughts and feelings before gently guiding it to a teachable moment, “You weren’t supposed to be on the driveway at all with your bikes, remember?”
Charlotte sniffled and then meekly nodded.
You let the moment settle as you rinsed the cloth in warm water again before continuing to clean her up. As you worked on washing the dirt from her other knee away, you continued, “Not only did you hurt Daddy’s car, but you hurt yourself too.”
She nodded.
“And that’s why we have rules, to try and stop you from getting hurt or hurting things that are important to us. It’s not because we want to make sure you don’t have fun.”
You could tell that she was soaking in your words, understanding them, but as you started to wash off her palms, her big blue eyes filled with tears again. As much as she tried to hold it in, another small sob slipped past her trembling lips.
“I didn’t mean to make Daddy mad,” she whimpered.
“Oh, I know, sweet girl,” you sighed and cupped her face with one of your hands.
“I’m sorry!” she insisted, blinking those sweet eyes up at you.
“I think Daddy’s the one who needs that sorry,” you reminded her.
Charlotte protested with a hiccup, “I said sorry but he didn’t listen.”
“Well, he was angry and sometimes when we’re angry it makes it hard to listen to what other people are saying,” you explained, “When he’s calmed down, you can try again, alright?”
She shook her head as if the concept alone frightened her; the risk of facing his out of character anger again.
You smiled at her softly and poured some antiseptic onto a cotton pad to gently dab at her scraped palms, being careful as she winced at the sting. In a calm voice, you said, “I know it was scary that he raised his voice to you, but I promise, he loves you so much. There’s nothing you could do that would make him love you any less.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Once Charlotte was cleaned up and her knees had a band-aid each, you walked with her back downstairs and out to the front porch. George was still sitting on the front steps with Lawrence and Beatrice, watching as the eldest blew more bubbles for the insatiable youngest, a furrowed expression of melancholy on his face. At the sound of the front door, he looked over his shoulder.
“There we go, all cleaned up,” you said to break the ice.
George looked up at you and the two of you shared silent glances, his faint, flat smile housing enough thanks that words did not need to be spoken. Then, he turned his attention to your daughter who was magnetized to your side, peering at her father with timid eyes.
“Hey, jellybean,” he said gently, “maybe Mummy can take your brother and sister inside and you and me can have a little chat? What’d you think?”
Charlotte shifted in place and glanced up at you, but with a reassuring nod from you, she relented and stepped away from your side. You left her with a kiss to her head and gave George’s shoulder a squeeze as you ushered your other two children into the house to start to get cleaned up for dinner, lugging George’s suitcase inside with you.
Now, after the few minutes he had to calm down, George was left alone with his daughter. He turned to lean against the railing post, keeping himself at eye level with her, and he gently coaxed her closer. As she took a timid step towards him, he spoke, “I’m sorry for raising my voice at you, sweetheart. That wasn’t nice.”
Charlotte looked to her feet.
George rubbed her arm, leaning his head in to try and catch her gaze, “You understand that I was just upset and hurt that my car got scratched, right?”
She nodded.
“It made me sad because I had told you and your brother to keep away from them and you went near them anyway. Those cars are very special to me and they’re not easy to replace or get fixed up.”
“I’ll buy you a new one.” Charlotte mumbled pitifully, pleadingly.
“You’ll buy me a new car?” George echoed with a soft laugh, “You’ll be paying it off for the rest of your life, jellybean.”
“I don’t care!” she insisted, finally meeting his gaze, “I’ll get you one!”
“No, you’re not going to get me a new car,” he smiled at her, his heart swelling at her offer, regardless of how ludicrous it sounded. Her youthful innocence was endearing. “There is no need for that. I will find someone to fix the scratch and if it needs a whole new paint job then…”
George sighed, trying to ignore the hints of a headache that started to come on just from the thought of how much work it would be to arrange. But his empathetic little girl didn’t need to know that.
Instead, he continued, “Then that’s what has to happen.”
Charlotte blinked away another heavy tear that dripped down her flushed cheeks, her sweet voice raspy, “‘M sorry, Daddy.”
George reached a hand up to wipe away her tear with the pad of his thumb, “I know you are, jellybean. Thank you for saying that.”
“I just wanted to go fast.”
Well, who was he to not understand that?
He smiled softly at her, “I know you like going fast, but the driveway is not the place to do it. I like going fast too, but I’m not zooming around the driveway, am I?”
Charlotte’s lip pricked upwards at the corner in a small smile at the visual his words placed in her mind. She shook her head.
“No,” he agreed, sharing in her smile, “that’s only for the race tracks, right?”
She nodded.
George wiped her other tear-streak cheek with his thumb, “It’s very grown up of you to come and say sorry, and even though you did, it’s important that you understand that there are consequences to your actions. You didn’t listen to me when I said no riding your bikes by the cars and so there has to be a consequence, right?”
Charlotte nodded.
“So no bikes for two weeks until Mommy and I think you will be a good listener next time. And you won’t get your next weekly allowance and the £5 will go towards fixing the car instead. Does that sound fair?”
She nodded again.
“Good girl,” George then held his arms out, “Hug it out then, you think?”
Charlotte smiled softly and stepped closer so she could wrap her arms around his neck. George pulled her right onto his lap and snuggled her close as if to make sure she could feel the remorse and love in his arms and he sealed it by pressing a kiss to her head. As much as she hated him raising his voice at her, he hated it right back, and the paternal guilt weighed heavy on his heart. But, humans raising humans, there were bound to be more times just like this one.
With the six-year-old curled up on his lap, George gently pulled her hand out to see her scraped up palm and her bandaged knees. He hummed, “You took quite a tumble, hm?”
“Mhm.”
He gently tapped her band-aid knee with his index finger, “Almost as scratched up as my car, that.”
Charlotte buried her little bashful giggle into his chest.
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So I had another idea, reader going to imolia with kimi for the class trip. But there relationship is not public yet, so it's like a whole blowup when everyone realizes that kimi is dating someone. And it's a whole soft launch on Instagram.
Thanks🫶❤️🫶
-🍓
Hello again! I know I already did a little one shot with Imola was the Grand Prix it took place in, but, this one is too good to deny. I'm hoping the way I took it is the way you intended it to be! Hope y'all enjoy!
Offically Offical
Kimi Antonelli x SecretGirlfriend! Reader
Warnings: none, really. some slight swearing, a little fluff, paddock goes haywire, typical teenage drama... not proof read!
It's not like you or Kimi wanted the relationship to be a secret, to have to run around in private and leave everything you wanted to say in public left to the text messages the two of you shared. But Kimi knew exactly how fans would be if they knew he was dating a girl, how they would treat you, and truth be told, neither of you were quite ready for that yet.
You weren't able to attend any of his races quite yet. Still being in school and not wanting to risk anything, the two of you decided that it would be best if you waited until Imola to attend a race, as it was close to home and Mercedes had already agreed to get all his classmates VIP passes to the Grand Prix.
You were excited to see him in his element as he showed the entire class around the track, the paddock, and the Mercedes garage, even getting you introduced to some other Formula One drivers, like his teammate George Russell, and his best friend, Ollie Bearman (although, you already knew the latter and let's just say, Ollie was pretty good at keeping secrets).
During one of the Free Practices on Friday, you were with all your other classmates, sitting in the hospitality room as the chatter went on around you and the sound of the cars faded into the background. You couldn't always see Kimi when he was on the track, his car going by too quickly to get a full glimpse of him, but you felt happy enough to just be in at least the same city as him. If you were lucky, the two of you could get some time alone as just a couple.
You were talking to some of your female classmates, discussing the finals that were coming up and how excited you were for a summer break, but honestly, you weren't fully invested. Your body might've been sitting in that chair, but your heart was out there in a race car, and you were more concerned with Kimi doing well this weekend than to talk about your summer plans.
"Are you even listening?" One of your friends asked, waving a hand in front of your face. "Seriously, what is the matter?"
You knew your face got red as you felt how flustered you were. You slowly shook your head, and gave a shrug. "Yeah, everything is fine, sorry."
Another friend snorted. "I know you're friendly with Kimi and all, but I didn't think you'd be this desperate to catch a glimpse of his car go by like once a minute."
You offered a smile as the table went up in laughter. You weren't sure what to say, what to do to try to steer them off your trail. Instead, you went to your phone, looking at the last few messages between the two of you. Him promising a dinner date at some point, and you wishing him luck during practice. You typed out a quick, looking good out there, my love :), before hitting send. '
Unfortunately, your friend happened to be screen-peaking, and saw the message thread and her eyes widened as she dropped her jaw. "No way."
You looked over at her, and dread over came you as you realized what had happened. You frantically tried to shush her. "No, you can't say anything!"
She gave a shocked laugh. "Dude, for how long? I need to know everything!"
You cursed yourself. "A few months, but seriously, I'm not talking about this here."
In his regular media duties, Kimi had also slipped up. The interviewers had asked simple questions before bringing up how his classmates were all there, what it meant to him, the usual home-race questions. Until, instead of saying, my friends or classmates, he went, "Yeah, I'm really happy my girlfriend is able to be here."
After the class heard about that, they all went into a frenzy, trying to figure out who it could be. But it wasn't just your friends. It felt like the entire world was on a mission to figure out who it could possibly be. On any social media, all it was were people attempting to figure out who you were and those who didn't even know who you were, they were already trying to push you down and claim you weren't good enough.
What you had dreaded the most happened at the one race you wished it wouldn't.
Later that night, you and Kimi were texting as he was getting ready to head over to your house for a movie night before his next practice and qualifying.
I'm sorry, my love, I didn't mean to let that slip. I am just so excited to have you here for one of my races.
I know, Kimi. I'm not mad at you, I'm more worried for how this will affect the future. I just want to make sure this won't make you perform poorly or something.
It won't. I'm more concerned with how this is going to impact you. I know you didn't want to be out in the media quite yet. I'm on my way, though :)
When he arrived, the two of you embraced, and you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as you went to your room to turn on some random movie.
He was laid out on your bed, one of his arms slung over your shoulder as you cuddled into his side. You smiled up at him. "I know you'll do amazing tomorrow, Kimi."
He grinned down at you. "What would I do without you? You're always boosting my ego."
You rolled your eyes and smacked his chest, but you softened. "I was thinking... since the world already knows you have a girlfriend now, we could always do a soft launch. Like, post similar things on our Instagram stories. Then our friends would all know and all the little social media detectives out there could figure it out."
"If that's what you want," Kimi shrugged, but his heart swelled at the idea of going fully public.
So, the two of you took identical photos of your intertangled legs, his hand on your shoulder and yours on his chest, before posting them online and letting the chaos unfold. But you both knew with the other by your side, it would all be worth it in the end.
Okok so I have another idea. So its one of the rookies first races (you pick 🫶) and they cash (littraly everyone except ollie and kimi if I remember correct) so they are just moping around and we comfort them? Like after they do there media duties it's ice tea and a movie in back in the hotel room / driver room? And then room service / going out to eat at like macdonalds ( I think that's how it's spelled). Then like Mario cart or another game that you can hook up to a TV? ( it's like a whole comfort thing)
Thankss 🫶🫶🫶🫶
-🍓
hello again, 🍓! i love all the fluff that i can find in this. i know that Liam technically isn’t a rookie, but it’s his first full season, so I’ll count him! Plus, with all the media hate he was getting at the start of the season… my boy could use it!
Not an ideal race, but ideal comfort
Liam Lawson x EstablishedGirlfriend! reader
warnings: lots of fluff, mentions of a (non-injury) crash, typical media negatives… you get it :) very short, not proof read. hope y’all enjoy!
It wasn’t the ideal start to the season. After about half a season during 2024, your beloved boyfriend, Liam Lawson, was able to snag the second Red Bull seat. It was a beautiful thing to witness. Liam didn’t just achieve his dream of becoming a Formula One driver, he was able to say he was on one of the best teams with the best teammate.
But with four other rookies making their debuts, and Australia being full of rain, it wasn’t a great race. You didn’t think you’d ever personally seen this many DNFs due to cars simply spinning out because of the rain. You were anxious, of course you were, chewing at the skin around your nails as you watched the race, heart pounding.
And your worst fear came true as you watched Liam crash. Your hand cupped your mouth as a squeak of fear escaped your lips, gasps and groans echoing throughout the garage, and your pulse only slightly steadied as you heard Liam come through the radio with an, “I’m okay.”
Everyone knew what he was doing was a risky gamble and unfortunately, he lost that. When another rain shower came by, he attempted to remain on his mediums instead of switching to intermediates like the rest of the grid. There was more rain than anticipated… and his tyres had no grip.
Waiting for him to walk back to the garage felt like forever, while the race continued on, it felt like your world had crashed. Well, it quite literally did. But Liam came back in, taking his helmet off and balaclava, running fingers through his hair. Some of the crew members gave him pats on the back, others tried to assure him all was well, but he wasn’t listening.
Instead, he found you, the disappointment and sadness all over his face, and when you opened your arms, a small pout on your lips, he folded right into them.
“I know,” you whispered, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’ll get them next time. It’s a tough race for everyone.”
“This only proves the media right,” he said, voice quiet with the attempt at preventing tears.
You couldn’t help the frown that came over your face. You despised the media, the way they prayed on every single driver and the mistakes they made. It felt as though they were especially waiting for any mistake Liam made.
You pulled his head back from your neck so he could look at you. “No, don’t say that. Those articles are worth nothing. They’re written by men who wish they could have the chances you have. You are so much better than anything they could say.”
He gave you a soft smile, thankful to have you there to assure him, but the doubt was still buried deep within him.
You cupped his cheek, thumb brushing against the skin as you studied his face. “What would make you feel better, my love?”
His face brightened at the nickname as he leaned into your touch. “Could we get McDonald’s after the race?”
You laughed softly as you nodded. “If that’s what’ll bring that smile back, then of course we can.”
So, after the rest of the race and post race interviews, you and Liam drove to the nearest McDonalds, got your favorite orders, and went back to the hotel room.
You would never fully get used to the hotels that were provided for you. Large rooms that were basically apartments, full kitchens with dining tables, a lounge area, and a closed door that led to your bedroom and bathroom. You set the food bags on the kitchen counter, kicking your shoes off in the process.
Liam went into your bedroom, grabbing something from his suitcase as you set all the food out, snagging a couple fries as you did so. Soon, he came out holding all his Nintendo Switch supplies, the Switch, controllers, and docking station.
“After we eat, you up for some Mario Kart?” He grinned, already figuring out how to set it up.
You laughed and nodded. “Oh, I’ll so beat you.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Right, how many times have you actually won against me?”
You shrugged, and then the two of you laughed together before he joined you at the table and you ate together. You always enjoyed doing these small domestic tasks, like eating at a dinner table together, sharing a hotel room together, just pretending you weren’t a high profile couple.
And when you were done eating and cleaned up, the two of you made your way to the couch, starting up Mario Kart. Liam was laying on the couch, and you laid on him, chest to back, as his arms wrapped around you, and while Mario Kart was typically a very competitive time for the two of you, it was the most relaxed thing Liam could’ve asked for.
•.•.•.•
jules speaks!
super short but fun little thing! I’m glad that Liam is doing better now that he’s at VCARB. I love my little kiwi and hated all the hate he was getting at the start of the season. hope y’all enjoyed and keep sending in requests! :)
