Formula One Reader Insert

Charles Leclerc; Big Deal.

Hey, I'm sorry but I'm done with the new years stories. However we are now out of time for Valentine's, have a Charlie.

This may be shorter but I'm trying to make up for the last few weeks. I've had a rough month to six weeks and it hasn't been easy to focus, but now I feel better and I'm on the way. I will also note that my job takes up a lot of my time, and we're in a busy period of the year, so updates might be few and far between.
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"Why do you always make this a big deal?" (Y/N) groaned on February 13th, seeing Charles in front of her with just a towel wrapped around his hips, fresh out the shower.

"Because I am working tomorrow, and therefore we cannot celebrate you!" He insisted, throwing open the blackout curtains to reveal the view of Maranello from their company villa.

"You realise you have every single fan that is attracted to you practically frothing at the mouth with the thought that they get to spend Valentine's Day with you, right?" She grumbled, sitting up as Charles knelt in front of her.

"Yes, and the same goes for Carlos and your dear stepfather." He reminded her, having met when he joined Alfa Romeo. Fred first introduced them during preseason testing when Charles first joined the team, and it seemed to blossom quietly from there.

"Firstly, he's not my stepfather, he is my papa, and secondly, the team aren't hosting an after party, why can't we go to dinner, or the cinema?" She whined, feeling his hands slowly work their way up her bare legs.

"Because of your papa," he corrected himself this time. "He promised to take us out for dinner with your mother and he also promised the same to Carlos and Isa, so today is for us and tomorrow is for him, capiche?" He said, watching as she lazily saluted and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips with a giggle.

"Sì, sì, capisco, Ciccino." (Y/N) muttered in Italian, making him shake his head. She pulled herself out of the bed only for his body to press her back down into the plush mattress.

"Do not speak to me in Italian, sweetness." He mumbled, pressing kisses to the shell of her ear, nibbling every so often, as she squirmed giddily beneath him. "You drive me crazy, princesse."

"I know, handsome." She whispered, her fingers lazily running through his hair. Charles then decided to drag his nose along the curve and column of her neck, sighing softly as he inhaled her perfume.

"You smell as sweet as an apple, mon bijou." He grunted, feeling her hand slowly trail down his back, sending a violent shudder up his spine.

"Nina Ricci, the one you bought me in Paris for our last Valentine's rendezvous." She teased, slipping her hand under the towel and squeezing his derriere. She heard him inhale sharply before chuckling, playfully (and gently) gnawing at her neck until he was pushed off.

"What's the matter?" He whinged, grabbing the back of the shirt she slept in as she manoeuvred towards the bathroom.

"I'm just going to have a shower in preparation for us seeing the team and Papa today at the factory." She said, stripping off in front of him, slyly looking over her shoulder to see him eagerly watching. "You forgot that, didn't you?"

"Well..." He trailed off, giggling slightly. "I chose to ignore it. I didn't want to think of Fred whilst we were in bed together, when you are with me, I forget the outside world when I'm alone with you."

"Well, look who's a poet all of a sudden." She cooed, turning around as she grabbed a towel from the hook by the door as her (E/C) eyes watched as his pupil blew in size. She waltzed into the bathroom and started the shower, only to now hear hurried footsteps behind her before they abruptly stopped as his hands roamed her skin as she stepped in.