𝟏𝟎𝟑𝟗𝒾──── featuring charles leclerc, oscar piastri, max verstappen, kimi antonelli, ollie bearman ✿ fluff catalogue／ established relationship
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CHARLES LECLERC ｡ you're shivering in the monaco evening breeze, arms wrapped around yourself as you wait outside the restaurant. charles notices immediately. he always does. and he's already shrugging off his jacket before you can protest.
"charles, you'll freeze," you start, but he's draping it over your shoulders, fingers lingering at your collar as he adjusts it.
"don't care," he says simply, that soft smile reserved only for you playing at his lips.
you've seen him do this exactly zero times for anyone else. arthur complained about being cold last week and charles literally laughed at him. told him to "walk faster, it'll warm you up." but with you? he'd give you his only layer of clothing in a snowstorm without hesitation.
the jacket smells like his cologne and something distinctly him. he stands closer now, one hand finding the small of your back. he's definitely cold. you can see the goosebumps on his arms, but when you try to give it back, he just pulls you closer instead.
"keep it," he murmurs. "you look better in it anyway."
OSCAR PIASTRI ｡ you're wearing his gray hoodie again. the one he's had since his prema days, stretched out and faded.
"that's my favorite," oscar points out from the doorway, but he's already fighting back a smile.
"yeah?" you tug the sleeves over your hands. "want it back?"
"didn't say that."
he won't admit it, but you've seen him physically move his hoodies to the front of his closet where you can reach them easier. lando tried to borrow one once after a gym session and oscar deadpan told him "absolutely not, buy your own." but you? you've accidentally created a whole section of your wardrobe that's just his clothes.
you catch him staring as you flop onto the bed beside him. "what?"
"nothing." his ears go slightly pink and he's definitely fighting a smile. "just... bring that one back eventually? maybe?"
"no promises, piastri."
MAX VERSTAPPEN ｡ max is in full concentration mode, hunched over his sim rig with that death grip on the steering wheel. you can hear him muttering curses under his breath. never a good sign for whoever he's racing. you pad into his living room, and he doesn't even flinch.
"baby," he mutters, eyes still locked on the screen as he takes a corner. "there's snacks on the desk."
you weren't even looking for snacks but sure. you grab one and plop into the chair next to him, watching his concentration face. the little furrow between his brows, the way his jaw clenches.
"not now," one of his friend's voice crackles through his headset. "we're in the middle of—is that your girlfriend?"
"yeah," max says simply.
"mate, i thought you had a no-interruption rule?"
"i do."
"then why is she—"
"she doesn't count." he says it so matter-of-factly, like it's obvious. "different rules. now shut up, i'm trying to overtake."
KIMI ANTONELLI ｡ kimi's supposed to be asleep two hours ago. early morning training session, toto's orders, the whole responsible f1 driver routine. and he's got a sleep schedule that would make a monk weep. but he's still awake at 2am with you.
"and then she asked for oat milk after they made it with regular, are you even awake?"
"mhm." his eyes are definitely closed now. "she's... she's lactose intolerant?"
"go to sleep, kimi."
"no, no, i'm listening." he forces his eyes open, reaching for you blindly until his hand finds yours. "what happened with the coffee?"
"you know your trainer would murder you if they knew you were awake right now," you whisper. "don't care." he tugs you closer, tucking his face into your shoulder. his words are muffled against your shirt. "tell me the rest. did she get the oat milk?"
"you're ridiculous."
"you're ridiculous," he mumbles. "keep talking. i like your voice."
OLLIE BEARMAN ｡ ollie's been glued to the soccer match for the past hour, practically vibrating every time they get near the goal. you've seen this level of focus exactly twice: now, and during qualifying. literally on the edge of the couch like he might fall off. you feel a little bad interrupting, but—
"ollie, do you think i should cut my hair shorter?"
his head whips around so fast you're worried about whiplash. "what? like how much shorter?"
"i dunno, maybe to here?" you gesture vaguely at your shoulders.
"wait, let me see." with this serious, concentrated expression. "hmm. i mean, you'd look beautiful either way, but—"
"GOAL!" the announcer's voice screams from the tv.
ollie doesn't even glance back. "maybe keep it long? but honestly whatever makes you happy. do you want to cut it?"
"ollie, they just scored."
"who—oh." he looks at the screen for half a second, then back at you. "it's fine, they'll replay it. so about your hair, have you thought about layers? or maybe curls?"
author's note. ack this will be my very late valentines gift to everyone 💌
So, I did another one. The 2025 F1 Season Beginner's Guide. Genuinely honoured that a few people requested it and sorry for all the mistakes I've missed. Please enjoy the many recycled jokes from last year and the 2025 exclusive slide "Paddock Pets".
2025 rookies are living such different lives, man. like isack is a thriving influencer who is meeting his celebrity crush every weekend. gabi is in an age gap romcom. ollie is experiencing being a younger brother for the first time in his life. kimi is living out a shakesperean tragedy about the pitfalls of being the chosen one.
