Hehehe he's a cute little shit, ain't he?
F/D is favourite dish, F/S is favourite side(s)
-----------------------------------------------Let's set the scene: Charles has been home from Abu Dhabi and spent time with his family, whilst his dearly beloved girlfriend has been slaving away morning and night at her bakery. He was aware that Christmas was her busiest period outside of the Grand Prix weekend and dropped by to support her, which in turn meant that he became the focus of the patrons, not that she was upset. It gave her a couple minutes to go and take a breather, down a glass of water, maybe even eat.
Her bakery was famed in Monaco - she did F1 themed bakes all year round, making her popular with tourists and locals alike. Her Charles Eclairs were the most popular item, but her Ferrari Rocher cookies were a hit, as well as her Mercedes Muffins, which were blueberry, Red Bull Rocket cookies which were strawberry and chocolate flavoured, as well as her McLaren meat pie, filled with sumptuous shredded beef and a thick gravy. Christmas was special for her though, it meant she got to use family recipes from her own and Charles'.
Even though the season had died down, she only got busier. Winter sun holidayers swanned around Nice and Monaco, high rollers never stopped to think about their personal expenditure as they requested Christmas items for their lavish events, families were desperate to book it for the Christmas Day desserts, couples requesting engagement and wedding cakes, the list was endless, as was her to-do items."Charles, I want to retire!" She whined from the kitchen, walking out with a tub of pastry that needed to be worked before being turned into the pie cases.
"I have told you, amour. Go part time, hire someone, travel with me!" He urged, sipping on a cappuccino with hazelnut syrup. He heard a soft sigh as she struggled with the plastic tub.
"I want to, but this is my dream." She said, reminding herself that was the whole purpose of the bakery. "I will travel with you, I promise on this bakery's electric system, but right now, I don't know anyone who would even cover for me!" She dumped the chilld pastry and began focusing on the lamination, cutting out sturdy enough and accurately sized pastry circles to make the pastry cases.
"Please, tell me what can I help with?" He asked, walking around behind the prep counter and washing his hands in the sink, even taking his rings off. Her (E/C) eyes watched as he wrapped an apron around his waist and dusted flour out, knowing there was some bread to be kneaded, really focusing on his beautiful hands.
"I guess you can help by knocking the flour back and kneading it." She stuttered, regaining control of her brain, her uterus having taken control for a hot minute. "When you've done that, can you cut them into four inch long and two inch wide oblongs?" She watched as he walked out of the kitchen and to the front counter, returning in the bandana Mick had gifted him the year prior in the secret Santa pool.
"What's that in centimetres?" He asked innocently, knowing that chefs and bakers talk in imperial. He watched as her hands dropped from the choux pastry she has begun working on to show him visually. "Ah, that's the size of my--." (Y/N) cut him off with a sharp squeak, his green eyes casting over to see her flushed face. He grinned and pressed a kiss to her cheek, bumping her hip with his as he dumped the dough on the table and began working it.
'This is pornography. No, this is art. A thing of beauty.' She thought to herself as he slyly watched his forearms flex, the way he so firmly kneading the dough, how his shoulders alternated their forces. God, he was the most edible thing in the damn shop to her.
"I know you're staring~." He teased, taking the metal dough cutter and slicing through the glutenous strands, his hands moulding and shaping the soon to be iced buns. She grinned innocently at him, watching as he shook his head with a squeaky laugh. "Devil woman..." He mumbled, feeling her playfully bite his arm. "You're a really bad vampire!" He said, watching as she laughed, throwing her head back.

YOU ARE READING
Formula One Reader Insert
ChickLitPLEASE NOTE THIS STORY IS CLASSED AS MATURE ON THE BASIS OF CONTENT. TRIGGER WARNING ARE LABELLED BEFORE A CHAPTER BEGINS AND *** TO SIGNIFY THE START AND END OF A PASSAGE. I am basically a whore for these men, they are so talented and gorgeous, I...