croissantbakerylws

[croissantbakerylws]

mclaren Catching up whilst we wait for an update…☔️⏱️ #BrazilGP 🇧🇷

[croissantbakerylws]

Lean your weight on me [LH]

10. I’ll never let you go

Summary: a 9 10 chapter series where you are a famous singer, living the career of your dreams. But your chaotic schedule makes your body give in, making you lose your memory and forget (almost) everything.

Author's note: this chapter was never meant to exist, but the riot yall made in my mentions made me fold and give the audience what they want 😔✊🏻 NOW we officially say goodbye to this series, so I wanna say a major thank you to every single person who read and supported this story, that holds a very special place in my heart. Stay tuned for my next silly fics! Mwah 🥂🩷

wc: 5688 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

Also, requests are open!! Come share your thoughts with me 🥰

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

Lewis closes his eyes as he hears your words. Hearing you cry completely breaks his heart, and he can’t help but wonder if you’re hurt, if someone messed with you - the thought of it immediately makes him close his fist in anger. 

He definitely wasn’t expecting to hear from you, especially after you decided to disappear for four months. He didn’t know where you were, what you were doing, who you were with. But the fact that you chose to call him when you are crying your eyes out, tells him that you still trust him. 

“What do you mean, Y/N?” - his brain was way too confused to process what you said. “You can always come back home, just buy a plane ticket and-“ - you cut him off. 

“No, you don’t understand, Lewis. I know I can buy a ticket and hop on a plane and go to my country, open the door to my house and lay on my bed. But that’s not what I want. I wanna go home to you. You’re my home. And I want to be with you again. I need to be with you again, I can’t do it anymore like this, I can’t keep pretending that I’m fine when, in fact, I’m not. I miss you” - you say, your tone rising as you are completely honest with him now. 

Lewis stays silent on the other side of the line. He can’t believe what he’s hearing, right now. Your words are mixed with sobs, showing him how raw your feelings are right now. 

He can’t deal with this right now, he can’t talk about this over the phone. Instead, he decides to be practical. 

“Just please, tell me: are you okay? Did something happen to you? Are you hurt?” - he’s still worried about the way you’re hysterically crying nonstop. 

“No” - you simply reply. 

“Then buy a ticket from wherever you are, and come home. I’ll pick you up at the airport” - and with that being said, he calms your heart a bit more.

The call ends, and you manage to stop your cries. You immediately buy a plane ticket home, texting Lewis all the details about it, so he can know what time he should pick you up. 

You slump on the bed, taking deep breaths as you are almost unable to fall asleep - your heart feels too excited now. You heard Lewis’ voice for the first time after a long while, and you are going to see him in just some hours from now. 

You eventually manage to sleep for a couple of hours, waking up to see your smudged makeup from last night - your emotions were so all over the place that you didn’t even care about it. You wash your face and pack your belongings, taking a taxi to the airport. 

You check your phone when you hear it ring with a message. “Have a nice flight. I’ll be waiting for you” - Lewis wrote. 

Your heart starts beating faster as you reply with a simple “thank you”, growing impatient now, wanting time to go by faster, so you can be in his arms again. 

You eventually get on the plane, falling asleep while flying back to Lewis, landing in London a couple of hours later. 

Once you land, you run to get your suitcase, and as soon as you have all your belongings, you find the waiting room. Your eyes are everywhere, scanning every face, looking around you, trying to find him. And once your sight lands on the most charming man in the room, you are pretty sure you could fall to your knees right then and there. 

Lewis is quiet, scrolling through his phone while he leans his body against the wall, keeping a low profile in a corner of the room. You run to him, making him look up from the device, immediately engulfing you in his arms as you start crying quietly, holding him tight - begging him to not let go of you. 

He kisses your forehead gently, as you look up at him with your eyes full of tears. He takes some strands of hair out of your face, catching some tears that fall from your eyes. He continues to hold you close to him, knowing how badly you need some comfort, dedicating himself to glue your pieces back together for a moment, now. 

“Let’s go home” - he says to you as you nod your head at his words. Lewis keeps his distance after he lets go of you, his face is closed, he doesn’t show much emotion, even when you try to get a reaction from him. 

He starts the car, driving to his place - you said you want to be with him, so he doesn’t even question it. His head is running with a million different thoughts, both of you sitting in silence since you got in the car. 

Lewis is confused with his own feelings - he didn’t feel his heart beating faster when he saw you, like he used to. He does care about you, he worries about you, and that will never stop, but he can’t help but think about the words you said during your last show. “A love that is so, so strong, that will never end” - could it be true? He spent the last four months of his life trying to forget you, to get over the end of your relationship, and now you’re back, crying in his chest, telling him how much you need him, how badly you miss him. 

The ride home feels like forever to you, feeling suffocated by the silence erupting in the car, the only thing cutting it a bit was the radio that was quietly playing some music. 

“Finally, some sunny days in London, huh?” - you try to find some topic of conversation, something that can make some words leave Lewis’ mouth. 

“Uhum” - he replies, not even bothering to extend his answer. You can tell by his facial expression that he is lost in his own mind. His eyes are focused, barely blinking, his lips are narrowed in a line and his free hand is holding his chin, occasionally caressing his temple - like he’s trying to push his brain to work. 

You can’t blame him for giving you the cold shoulder - you are very well aware of that. You are the one who should be crawling to him, not the other way around. So you decide to give him his space and time, everything that he needs, until he feels ready to talk to you. 

When he parks his car in the garage, you take your suitcase out and you note how he doesn’t help you with it. Instead, he just walks to the front door, opening it and calling Roscoe’s name, not even waiting for you to come inside with him - like he doesn’t even care that you’re there. 

You frown at his attitude. “Damn, you could have at least waited for me” - you say once you’re inside, with a glint of humor in your voice, but meaning every word. 

Lewis side eyes you, paying full attention to Roscoe now, filling his bowl so the dog can eat. He just sighs in response to your words. “You know the house already, I don’t need to introduce you to the rooms” - he says in a monotone, like he isn’t excited to have you back at all. 

“Alright, I’m just going to take my suitcase upstairs then, I need to organize my clothes in our closet” - you say nonchalantly, like it’s nothing. The word “our” made Lewis look at you, though. 

“I think it’s best if you stay in the guest's room for a while, now” - he lets you know, while he pours himself a cup of his tequila brand. 

“Fine” - that’s all you say before turning your back to him, heading upstairs to organize your belongings. 

Lewis takes a seat on a kitchen stool, sipping on his drink - he truly enjoys the taste of it, but how badly does he wish it was alcoholic right now, maybe it would ease his mind for a bit.

He breathes deeply, sighing to himself as he focuses on the view outside, watching how the sun shines through the kitchen windows - in a way that rarely happens in London. Maybe it’s just a coincidence that the sun decided to come out on the same day that you’re back to his house, desperate to be back in his arms. Maybe it’s a sign that you are the light of Lewis’ life as well, even if he doesn’t know what to believe now, he doesn’t know what’s real anymore.

After half an hour, you come downstairs, seeing how he is still in the kitchen, looking lost and empty, still fighting his own mind in the middle of everything that is happening. And that’s when you decide you have had enough of this already, gaining the courage to speak to him now. 

“Lewis, we need to talk” - you tell him, your tone serious, while you stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island. 

He nods his head, his eyes still fixed on the window in front of him. “Why are you back?” - he quietly asks you, while sipping a bit more of his drink now. 

Your eyebrows furrow at his question. “Why am I back? What do you mean, ‘why am I back’? I thought I told you the reason when I called you crying at fucking 4 in the morning” - you scoff, growing irritated now. 

“Well, you never called for four months. What’s changed now?” - he keeps bombing you with questions, but you can’t blame him. You too would be a mess, your head would be filled with doubts if he decided to disappear for months, without you even knowing if he was dead or alive. That’s what you did, basically. 

You take a breath, picking the right way to say this. Lewis needs you to be honest, transparent, with him now, he needs to see the truth in your eyes again - and you need to let your feelings show, for once. 

You take some steps in his direction, trying to catch his attention, making him look at you now. “I thought I needed to let you go, for good. Because it was the best for you. I thought I couldn’t have anything to do with love anymore, because of all the damage I caused to the love of my life. So I went away, trying to find myself in different places, trying to feed my inner self off different experiences. I went to Greece first, our favorite place to go on vacation. And that damn sunset killed me everytime, because I would always end up thinking even more about you. I remembered how we used to cuddle after dinner, and watch the sun setting on the ocean, the day ending and the stars coming out to greet us. And every single memory would trigger others, and then my mind would travel to our beach house - and I don’t even have to explain it, you know damn well what our project was for that house” - you take a minute to breathe, and Lewis stays silent, waiting for you to continue. 

“I thought I would be able to say goodbye to you in Greece, since it was a place where we’ve made so many happy memories, and I really tried for my mind not to remember you everywhere I went. Then, I traveled to a whole bunch of different countries: Egypt, Morocco, India, among others. And a lot of different people have crossed my path during these four months, and it really was a very rewarding experience, but I guess I just felt numb the entire time. I could never look at guys the same way I looked at you, and it’s like I couldn’t feel love inside of me anymore. No one seemed interesting enough, so I never got with anyone, until I landed in Italy” - you pause, some tears making their appearance on your eyes already. 

Lewis remains silent, but he raises an eyebrow at your words, wondering what happened in Italy that got you crying to him on the phone in the middle of the night. 

A single tear slides through your cheek, as you remember what happened just some hours ago. “I started to feel really lonely, you know? I was wondering what was wrong with me, I thought it was time for me to actually move on, to try my luck with a cute guy, to get some part of my ‘love life’ back” - you innocently explain. “I went out to a club last night, and this guy started dancing with me and we flirted for a while and stuff… It was fun, I was a bit tipsy already, and I genuinely just wanted to feel those butterflies on my stomach again” - your cries grow more intense now, seeing how Lewis feels the need to take his eyes off of you. 

“But when we kissed, I realized I couldn’t do it, Lewis. I couldn’t keep pretending that I didn’t need you anymore, that I wasn’t crying myself to sleep every night, wishing you were by my side. And that kiss felt so wrong, because it wasn’t you. He didn’t kiss me as softly as you did, he didn’t hold me like I was his world, he didn’t made me feel loved and wanted in the same ways you always did.” - he hisses quietly at the scenario in his head, closing his fists just at the thought of another man touching you. 

“And that’s when I ran to the house I was staying at, locked myself inside the room, crying my eyes out to the realization that I, indeed, can’t do love without you anymore. You were the missing piece, you have always been, you are the one thing that I need to feel complete again. I know I have a lot to make up for, and I’m willing to do everything that you need me to, so I can at least have one final chance. Please, don’t make me feel like coming back is causing a problem to you-” - and that’s when he cuts you off. 

“The problem is that I was doing well without you here” - he says harshly, his eyes darting to yours now. His words feel like knives, cutting your heart into little pieces, making you question if this was a good idea now. 

“If me coming back is such a problem, then I’ll leave. Tell me to go if that’s what you want me to do, Lewis. I need to hear you say it” - but he can’t. He can’t, for the life of him, tell you to go, to push you away. You manipulated him for so long, played with his feelings, kicked him to the side, and now his blood feels cold - he waited for you for weeks on end, months, and it felt like slowly dying for him. But he can’t deny how good it feels to smell your perfume around the house again, how looking at you makes it seem like the sun shines brighter, how even Roscoe feels more calm since you walked through the door. 

“I don’t want you to go, but I can’t take you back like this, not right now. My emotions are all over the place, I need time. And you need to earn your way back, because I don’t know what to count on now. I don’t know if you will pack your bags and leave without me knowing again” - he tells you, honesty reflecting in his eyes.

The fact that he is willing to give you a chance to try and win him back again, already feels enough to you. You nod your head at him, cleaning the tears from your face, promising him: “This time, I won’t break your heart”. 

Weeks have passed by, and no matter how many different things you try to do for Lewis, it seems like it’s never enough for him to crack open again, so he can let you inside even for a bit. 

“I cooked your favorite dish” - you tell him with a simple smile when he gets home, trying to do everything right, wanting to please him. But Lewis is growing frustrated. 

So he sighs, when he hears your words, entering the kitchen and stopping right in front of you. “That’s not going to be how you earn your way back, but I appreciate the effort” - he looks you in the eyes, immediately turning his back to you as he goes to set the table for the two of you. 

A frown paints your facial expressions. “What can I do for you to open up for me, just a little Lewis? Please just tell me, it’s been weeks! I’m trying my best” - you try to reason with him, only to see him keep the same cold and distant composure. 

“It’s not a matter of what you do, Y/N. This is something that has to be built over time, with patience” - he explains, never showing much emotion, contrasting with your annoyed self. 

“How are we supposed to build something again if you don’t let me in?” - you mumble, but he still catches every single word. 

“I never gave you any certainty that I would take you back” - Lewis shrugs, making you sigh, biting your tongue to not reply to his remark, not wanting to start a fight. So you just sit at the table, getting ready to have dinner in silence again, so then you can go back to the guest’s room, again. 

But you don’t feel like being silent tonight. You feel like bugging him, maybe annoying him to the point where he cracks might be an idea. 

“Do you have everything ready for Singapore, yet?” - you question innocently. Lewis nods while chewing on the pasta you cooked. 

“Dinner is very good” - he compliments, keeping it civil between you two. 

You thank him for a minute, before going back to the topic you had in mind. 

“When are you traveling to Singapore?” - you insist, watching how he raises his eyebrows. 

“Why are you so curious about Singapore?” - he replies, watching how your face contorts into a compromising look. 

You smirk to yourself. “I want to go to the race” - you inform him. 

Lewis doesn’t reply immediately, watching how his face changes from a light expression to a more serious one. “You don’t have to go” - he tells you, like he is trying to push you away from watching his performance, from getting more into his life. 

“Well, I want to. And you can’t stop me” - you close your case, your tone sounding decided, making Lewis sigh in response.

Three days later, you’re packing your bag, getting ready to fly to Singapore. It’s the first time you get to see Lewis race after everything that happened to your marriage. The last time you were in the paddock, your memory was still failing, and you remember the agony you felt while being there. But now it’s different. You’re back, you are yourself again. You are used to seeing Lewis race and you miss seeing it in person. You miss feeling the tension, the adrenaline of being in his garage - listening to his radio, seeing the strategies, watching him in his element. 

You want to be there to support him. Sure, you want to meet everyone there, you miss a few people, but you want to show him how you’re still the same girl that will scream his name as loud as you can, you still suffer every time you watch his races on television, the nerves being too much for you to handle. You want him to see how proud you still are of him - how that is something that will never change. You want him to see it in your eyes. 

Singapore is known for being hot and humid, so it’s no surprise to you when you feel sweaty and sticky every single hour of the day while you’re there. Racing in that country is always a challenge for every driver, due to the weather conditions, so everyone is used to seeing the drivers struggling, on and off the track. 

It’s not an easy one, but it’s also not your - and definitely not Lewis’ first time here, so you believe that you will manage to pull through the weekend. 

Once you get to the hotel, you and Lewis are taken aback when you notice that the team put you in the same hotel room. What were you expecting? Both of you decided to keep your situation private, no one could guess that you’ve been sleeping in the guest’s room for weeks now. 

Lewis is annoyed, huffing and sighing as you walk inside the room. “Great, it’s a double bed” - he notes, sounding pissed off right now. 

“Yes Lewis, of course it’s a double bed, we are a married couple, remember?” - you say to him ironically, growing annoyed by his childish behavior already. 

He rolls his eyes. “We were supposed to file the divorce papers, but whatever” - he mutters under his breath, while opening his suitcase.

“Yeah, we were, and you chose not to sign them either, so don’t come at me with that. Just behave like a grown man, please” - you first tell him, seeing how he gives you a frustrated look. “You can have the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch” - are the words that leave your mouth as you take a seat on said couch, seeing how it’s not that uncomfortable, after all. 

“No, don’t be stupid. I’ll stay on the couch” - he tries to fight you on this. No matter how annoyed he might be, he would never want to see you sleeping on a couch while his body was resting on a comfortable bed. 

“No, Lew. You are going to race, you need all the rest you can get. It’s fine, I’ll stay on the couch, it’s actually pretty comfy” - you tell him with a smile, knowing damn well how you’re annoying him more, on top of everything. 

He lets out a loud sigh, as if he is feeling all the frustration of the world in his body right now. “Let’s just stop this and share the damn bed” - he says, hearing the pet name falling from your lips helping him give in a bit. 

“Are you sure?” - you look at him with a puzzled expression, not expecting him to change his decision, and he just nods his head at your question.

It feels weird when you two get to bed, trying your hardest not to touch each other’s bodies - noticing how Lewis is particularly putting more effort into this, so you grab a spare pillow and you put it in between your bodies.

“There. Now you don’t have to worry about touching me anymore” - you say with an annoyed yet sad tone, feeling so rejected by him that it makes your heart hurt. 

“Y/N, it’s not that. It’s just-” - he tries to explain, with a softer tone surrounding his words.

“Good night, Lewis” - it’s all you say before turning your back to him and turning off the light on your bedside table. 

He looks at you for a moment, thinking about how all of this has come too far already. He wants to touch you, he really does. He wants to hold you close, he wants to kiss your features, he wants to feel your hair tangling in his fingers as he caresses your scalp. He wants to see how your body immediately relaxes when you feel his touch again. But now, he sees how his stupid behavior has been hurting your feelings, and how ridiculous all of this looks. 

Now, he is the one huffing before turning his back to you as well, both of you acting as stubborn as you can be. 

Saturday was a good day. You couldn’t complain when Lewis qualified in P3, and that was enough to make his mood lighten up a little more. You saw how he entered the hotel room after dinner, with a more relaxed facial expression, like a weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. 

He gives you a simple smile when he sees you, something that hasn't happened in so long.

You smile back. “I’m proud of you” - your eyes shine when these words leave your mouth, and they hit Lewis right in the heart, making him melt a little more. 

“Thank you, darling. And thank you for being there and for the support” - he replies to you with honesty in his heart. Your support is the best fuel he can have. 

Your mouth is slightly agape. A pet name?! Him directing such gentle words towards you?! With a smile on his face?! You could faint right then and there, feeling butterflies tingling in your stomach now. You don’t want to ruin the moment, so you make sure not to make any remarks about what’s going on. 

Lewis feels like he too should make some effort to try and improve your relationship, so he joins you on the floor - where you were sitting, surrounded by fluffy pillows. You were choosing a movie to watch before he was back. He looks at the netflix catalog. “What are we watching?” - he says with a grin on his face, purposely removing the pillow that was placed between your bodies, a way to let you know that he isn’t scared to touch you. 

And when you finally pick a movie, Lewis orders some popcorn to your room, so you can share some while watching it. “It’s just two or three popcorn, or Toto is going to kill me tomorrow” - he jokes, and it feels good to see how his aura is brighter, he is more relaxed and comfortable around you again. 

The way you spent the night laughing together, makes your heart grow, like something is telling you that there’s still some hope - there’s still something for you to hang on to. 

But nothing prepared you for the way your heart would feel so tight in your chest after the race, seeing how Lewis was looking so fragile and debilitated when he got out of his car. 

He was complaining about how badly his head was hurting, how nauseous he was feeling. Toto managed to get Lewis and George to not attend the post media interviews after the race, since both weren’t feeling well. 

You immediately reached for Lewis while you walked him back to his driver room. Your arm is grabbing him by his waist, holding him up while he complains about feeling dizzy now. The heat stroke symptoms were undeniable, so you help Lewis lie down as soon as you reach his room. 

Your wife instincts immediately kick in, doing everything in your power to take care of your husband. You don’t give two shits about your previous situation, about sleeping with a pillow between your bodies, about childish tantrums and previous fights. Lewis needs someone to look after him now, you need to step up, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do. 

You hand him a bottle of water, making sure it’s cold enough to kill his thirst, but not too cold to cause him temperature shock - noticing how his body feels incredibly hot when you touch him. After he chugs down the entire bottle, you help him get out of his sticky and warm suit, definitely not helping his state, and you find some comfortable, loose and more fresh clothes for him to put on. 

He’s panting, feeling exhausted, and even in the middle of feeling like shit, he tries to play tough. “I can put my own clothes on, you know” - he mumbles. “I’m perfectly fine” - he insists. 

You sigh, looking him in the eyes. “Lew, you’re not fine. You’re not fine at all. Now please stop being so stubborn, and let me take care of you” - you say as you move to put a wet towel over his forehead, hopefully helping him to stop feeling like he’s burning. 

20 minutes later, someone from the team knocks on the door, letting you know that they prepared some food for him. 

“Do you still feel nauseous, baby?” - you ask him, not even realizing the pet name that just escaped your lips. He shakes his head gently, his hand rubbing his temples as he hisses - still feeling dizzy. 

“I feel weak” - the man says, groaning as you help him sit up now. 

“You need to eat this, Lew. Hopefully it’s going to help you feel better” - you let him know, taking the plate into your hands, while you sit on a chair beside him. He tries his best to take some bites of the food, really in need to get some fuel inside of his body now. 

You watch him attentively, seeing how his hand still shakes a bit when he picks up the fork. Both of you stay silent as he continues to eat, and you grab the wet towel to drape it over his neck now. 

He sighs in content. “Oh, that feels good” - he chuckles at his words, feeling like a silly kid. 

You smile at him - “I see you’re feeling better already”. 

He finishes his food. “I’m a bit better” - he lets you know, the words making your heart rate calm down. 

“Good” - it’s all you say before giving him more water to drink, focusing on keeping him hydrated now. 

Lewis drinks it, while his eyes never leave you. “What?” - you ask, not understanding the look he’s giving you now.

“You called me baby, you know” - he points out with a smirk on his face. 

Your eyes widen. “I don’t think I did” - you fight him back, remembering very well hearing that word leaving your lips. 

He chuckles again, amused by the way your cheeks are turning pink now. “Come on Y/N, you know you did. But no need to be embarrassed by it, I missed the pet names” - he admits, letting his guard down now. 

“I think you’re hallucinating, Hamilton” - you say, trying to get out of the trap he got you in now, folding his clothes absently so you can have a reason to turn your back to him. 

He’s feeling entertained, knowing you so well that it feels silly of you to try and hide your blushing from him. The environment around you two feels intense now, making the room feel even smaller than it already is. 

“But seriously now” - he starts saying, reaching for your hand so you can face him again. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all this” - he admits, with a sparkle in his eyes as he admires your features, looking as beautiful as ever in his eyes. 

“Don’t be silly. Of course I have to. Plus I didn’t do anything major, just had to comply with my ‘wifely duties’” - the words leave your mouth in a way to test the waters, to see his reaction. 

His lips curve into a genuine smile, pulling your body gently so you can sit on his lap. 

“Your body is weak, I shouldn’t-” - he cuts you off with a kiss to your bare shoulder. 

“Never too weak to hold my wife” - surprise covers your entire face as he chuckles again, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulder, arm, reaching your neck. 

“Is that still the heat stroke speaking?” - you half joke, but half mean it. 

Lewis shakes his head ‘no’, while looking deep into your eyes, finding the love he could only ever see in you. 

“You managed to grow on me again, girl” - he laughs. “I never thought it would happen, to be honest. I never stopped loving you, obviously, but I really thought that I would never feel capable of giving you a second chance. I didn’t believe that you could make me feel like this again. I thought that making it hard for you was going to make you leave again, making it easier for me to see you quit, instead of having to deal with all my feelings for you again” - he vents, feeling his body relax now as your hand travels through his scalp, gently caressing it. 

“But you stayed - even while not even knowing if I would give you another chance. And you still took care of me, did everything you could for me to be comfortable, even if it was never about that. But your presence made me feel comfortable again. Last night when we were laughing and watching that terrible movie, I felt like myself again. And I haven’t felt like myself in a long, long time. I guess I need you by my side to be myself again, as well” - his eyes travel from yours, scanning your face until they reach your lips, feeling the courage in himself to attach them to his for the first time in so, so long. 

And there it is, the love, the passion, all the care in the world that you can only feel with Lewis, the only lips that move in perfect sync with yours, the only kiss that feels right. 

You feel like two silly teens that can’t stop kissing now. When you break the kiss, your forehead glues itself to Lewis’ now, seeing how you’re both smiling wide. He takes your hand in his, kissing your ring finger - silently thanking the fact that your ring is back where it belongs. 

“Fuck, I might propose to you again. Marry you a thousand times so the world knows that nothing can break us apart” - he smiles, but you can tell that he’s serious. 

Tears are swelling in your eyes. “And I would say ‘yes’ every single time, my love” - you kiss him again lovingly, hugging him tight - never letting him go. 

Lewis kisses your forehead as you rest your head on his shoulder, now, finally feeling complete. “And I’m cuddling the fuck out of you tonight.” - he promises. “The bed feels too cold when you’re not in my arms.”

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taglist: @illalwayswaitforyourlove @literallegendicon @scenesofobx @irishmanwhore @forza-charles @felicityforyou @seonghwaexile

[croissantbakerylws]

I made one for each team cause these were fun to make :)

[croissantbakerylws]

I’M TIRED OF SMUT, I WANT TOOTH ACHING FLUFF AND HEART SHATTERING ANGST.

[croissantbakerylws]

i need you to understand where i'm coming from

no lube, no protection, all night, all day

[croissantbakerylws]

Tulips or Roses?

John Price x reader

In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k

Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.

And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.

So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.

John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)

As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?

Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.

You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.

You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.

So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.

30th February 2010

Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.

Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?

You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.

5th July 2016

Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.

You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.

19th June 2017

Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.

You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.

2nd December 2018

Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.

You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.

7th April 2019

Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.

Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.

You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.

21st August 2019

She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.

Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.

You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.

You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.

30th November 2020

In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.

You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.

You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.

"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.

Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.

So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.

"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.

All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.

"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."

You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.

But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.

The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.

But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?

"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.

"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.

"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.

"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.

"Those people, they're your team?" You question.

His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."

You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.

"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.

"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.

Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.

You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...

Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.

Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.

Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?

The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.

The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.

A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.

He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.

Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...

He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.

"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)

"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.

The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.

He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"

"When did I say they were my favourite?"

John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."

"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.

"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"

"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"

Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.

"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.

"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.

"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"

"Are we still talking about flowers-"

"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."

"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"

"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."

You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.

"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"

John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.

"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"

You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.

"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"

His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.

"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.

The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.

As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.

Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-

Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.

He begins reading the last entry.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....

"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.

It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.

The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.

Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.

John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.

"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.

"John, listen about last night-"

"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.

You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.

"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."

"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.

"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."

Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.

"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.

My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."

"John..."

He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.

You look at the first entry.

19th February 2021

I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.

You turn the page.

20th July 2021

Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.

The next one.

17th September 2021

I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.

I've always preferred tulips anyway.

And the next.

5th July 2022

Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.

17th September 2022

She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?

28rd December 2023

We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.

You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.

16th February 2024

Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.

"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."

He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."

And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.

That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

[croissantbakerylws]

OMG!!!! THIS IS SO CUTE

Drunk calls

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You're drunk on your night out and accidentally call your boss, Fernando.

Word count: 1.5k

Tags: Female reader, drunk reader, fluff, Nando comforting reader, boss x employee relationship, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: Anon requested drunk reader and sober nano, so i just ran with it and wrote a little something while on hangover from the new year party. (Also that ONE pic George Russell posted of him and Nando!!!!)

Hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

As you left the toilet, you felt your legs wobbly as you supported yourself on the wall. You had been clubbing with your friends for a couple of hours now, but a few minutes ago you couldn’t find them, and you looked all around.

Pulling your phone from your purse, you called your bestie to try and find out where she was. As soon as she picked up, you started talking.

“Hi, Hanna! Where are-” You hiccuped, “where are you? I think I’m too drunk now, I can’t find you or the girls, and my head is pounding already, and I can’t walk straight.”

“Y/N?” A male voice asked.

“Who the fuck are you?” You frowned.

“It’s Fernando, you just called me,” he said and you turned your phone seeing that you had actually called him instead of your friend.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, boss!” You said and immediately hung up.

Fuck, you drunk called your boss on your day off. That was most certainly grounds for a reprimand. You had been working as his assistant for almost a year now, and had only been super professional and dedicated to doing your work. You and Fernando had been friendly and settled into a great work dynamic. So accidentally calling him like this would probably cause problems for you.

You didn’t even have time or energy to blame yourself too long as your phone buzzed with an incoming call from Fernando. You immediately hit decline. But barely a second later he called you again. Shit, he probably would tear you a new one. You hit decline again. You started sweating, god, you needed to go home, you needed to eat and you needed to plan a big apology for the next time you see your boss again.

Then two texts appeared coming from Fernando.

“Where are you?” “Pick up the call”

And then he called you again, and you picked it up this time preparing for him to go off on you.

“Where are you?” He breathed loudly.

“I’m at a club with my friends,” you stuttered a little bit, both because of the alcohol and because you were worried he might fire you on the spot.

“You said you lost them. Have you found your friends?”

“No, not really. But it’s okay, I’m gonna go home already!” You hoped you were sounding a little bit more confident.

“How?”

“What?”

“How are you going to go home?” He asked, voice serious.

“I’m gonna call a cab or something. Don’t worry!” Please, sound sober, please sound sober.

“Send me the address, I’m gonna pick you up.”

“No, no! It’s your day off too, you don’t have to worry I’ll be fine! Really, I promise I’m going straight home right-”

“I wasn’t asking. Send the address.” He cut you off and hung up.

Cursing and sweating, you sent him your location, walking slowly to the exit, still trying to locate your friends. As you made it outside, you leaned against the wall, feeling a little better with the fresh gust of wind outside the packed club. You flexed your knees because your heels were feeling like a fucking thousand needles punching the sole of your feet. You should listen to your younger sister and start wearing sneakers to the club.

After a few minutes, you saw a scandalous rich man’s car pulling up and you knew it’s Fernando. He stopped by the sidewalk and came walking to you. He was wearing slacks and a white button up, simple but classy. You had seen in his schedule before that he was going to go out with friends for dinner. So that’s probably where he came from.

He didn’t look too pissed at you but he didn’t look happy either, his face was rather neutral.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he stopped in front of you. He was holding a water bottle, which he promptly opened and gave to you.

“I have been better, not gonna lie,” you said, and proceeded to drink almost the whole bottle of water.

“Why are you flexing your knees?” He asked.

“Because the heels are killing me.”

Silently, Fernando knelt in front of you and unbuckled the straps of your heels around your ankles.

“Off, now” he said, patting your calves, then offering you a hand so you could step out of the shoes.

“Jesus, thank you,” you mumbled, relieved to be barefoot finally, “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to pick me up.”

“I’m here already, quit whining,” he dismissed you, holding your forearm, “can you walk to the car?”

“Just give me a hand,” you asked, still a little unbalanced. You jolted a little when you felt Fernando’s hands on your thighs but he didn't touch you, he just pulled the hem of your dress down, since it was dangerously close to showing too much and maybe accidentally flashing everyone.

Fernando circled an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his side, keeping you standing all the way to his car, holding your heels with the other hand. You looked to the side of his face, and you were suddenly hit with the realization that Fernando is really, really attractive. 

“Damn, you’re handsome!”

It honestly slipped past your lips and you felt your cheeks warm up, embarrassed for saying that out loud, but Fernando only laughed a little, and kept walking you to his car, only stopping to open the door and put you in the passenger seat.

As you took the seat, he stared at your face, trying to catch any signs of something in your face. You blinked, staring into his beautiful greeny brown eyes, and he just huffed, pulling the seat belt and locking it around you.

When he finally started driving, the silence deafening, you looked at his side profile.

“Are you upset? I’m sorry! I promise I’ll behave.”

“I’m not upset. Though I will be a little annoyed if you throw up in my Aston Martin,” he said with a small smile.

“No throwing up happening anytime soon!” You raised your hand, held it in a cross and kissed it, “I’m actually really hungry”

Fernando clicked his tongue and reached for the backseat with one hand, pulling a Burger King brown bag. You smelled the food and you smiled.

“Oh my god! You’re a savior!” You opened the bag, which had your favorite burger and big sized fries, “this is my favorite!”

You ate quietly for a couple of minutes then a thought hit you.

“How do you know I like eating Burger King after getting drunk?” You said, and Fernando looked at you, opened the glove box and handed you a tissue.

“I know you well,” was all he said. He ended up driving you to his place, and you decided to question it.

“Why did you drive me here?” You walked in, sitting on the couch.

“What do you mean?” He looked confused.

“Ugh, never mind!” You stood up but the quick movement made you stumble and Fernando quickly held you in place.

“Careful!” He put both hands on your waist, in a way that felt very intimate.

You turned to face him, and he smiled softly, his hand now on your lower back. Then, you touched his eyebrow with the tip of your finger.

“I like your eyebrows.”

“Gracias.”

“And your beard too,” you cupped his face, feeling the roughness of his beard against your palm.

“Vamos, you need a shower,” he carefully walked you up the stairs and then inside the bedroom, straight to the bathroom.

Fernando turned you around and pulled down the zipper on your back. You gasped, holding the dress in place and turning to face him.

“You can’t undress me!”

He turned around, laughing.

“Ok, get in the shower and I’ll get you some clothes, eh?”

You showered, and when you left, a towel around your body, Fernando had left a small pile of clothes inside. There was a big t-shirt and sports shorts that you dressed. He also left you a toothbrush, which seemed very thoughtful of him.

When you walked back to the room, Fernando had changed into comfy clothes, and he was waiting for you sitting on the bed.

“Are you sobering up?” He asked.

And you just nodded, sleepy, crawling into his lap and snuggling into his chest, pressing your nose to his neck.

“Yup.”

“Then you remember who I am?” 

“You’re Fernando!” He laughed a little, kissing the top of your head.

“No, amor,” he leaned back, cradling your face with one hand, and pulling your right hand with the other, “I’m your fiancé.”

Wide eyed, you stared at the big diamond ring in your finger. Then, you finally remembered, your fiancé, your beloved Nano. Who had been your boss sometime two years ago, and you resigned when you realized you had feelings for him. In the end, he had gone after you because he harbored the same feelings for you.

You ended up laughing out loud, so hard that there were tears in your eyes.

“God, I’m never drinking again!”

“It’s cute that you forgot like this,” he laughed too.

You held his face, kissing him softly. His hand ran up your back, under your shirt. You wanted more, trying to deepen the kiss, but he just held you back.

“Sleep now, eh? Tomorrow I will wake you up with besos.”

[croissantbakerylws]

george and nando celebrating nye together two years in a row

[croissantbakerylws]

Always You

Carlos Sainz Jr x Fem!Reader

Warnings: childhood crush, alcohol and the consumption of, carlos is ever so chivalrous, confession of a crush, slightly nervous carlos cause he probably lacks rizz as the kids say these days.

Word Count: 929

Author's Note: childhood crush always fits carlos, you can't tell me otherwise.

--

The infamous Sainz Christmas party. Every year your parents dragged you along and you only went to see one person. Your motives for going haven’t strayed despite growing up. 

The Sainz Christmas Party; every year for as long as you can remember, you'd find yourself in their living room on Christmas evening.

Your parents were friends with the Sainz family, which left you to fend for yourself when you were there. You knew their children, Ana, Blanca and Carlos.

You were closest to Carlos in age, the two of you only being 3 years apart but you never really spoke. It was a hello and how are you as he passed by on his way to his friends.

As much as you hated the whole affair and your parents offered to let you stay home, you didn't.

One person in particular held your attention; Carlos - the same guy who barely gave you the time of day.

Over the years, you became quite fond of him, admiring him from afar. You knew of each other, you were friendly but you weren’t friends or anything like that. You keep up with his career and you two are grown now.

Carlos had recently turned 30 and you were 27 this year - he was at Ferrari and you had found yourself a job as an editor, the exact thing you wanted to do.

Despite your grown age, your parents brought you along to the Sainz Christmas party; not that you minded.

It was well underway at this point, dinner was had and now the drinks and conversation was flowing. You did enjoy it to some degree, Reyes out did herself with the decorations each year. A new theme for a new chapter of their lives, different colours and designs carefully thought out and placed around the massive house.

A habit you developed over the years, as long as you had a glass of something in your hand, people would leave you alone. Your glass was empty and you find your way to refill it before someone pulls you into a conversation you did not want to have.

"Looking for something?" The voice comes from behind you, you hadn't seen anyone in the kitchen when you stepped in but you turned to find Carlos behind you.

"Just some wine."

Carlos nods, picking up the bottle and walking over to you. You half expected him to hand you the bottle and leave but he refills your glass, then his own before setting the bottle down. "Would you like to take a walk with me?" He offers out of the blue.

"Uh, sure."

He gestures for you to step out of the open that was cracked open, leading out into the dark yard. Carlos's hand rests on your lower back gently, as if to guide you - he does exactly that.

Just because you were outside doesn't mean there was an exception to the decorations. The trees were lined with lights, wreaths hung on each door that you passed.

Carlos stops in front of a bench and you take that as your cue to sit. You do, the chill breeze sends a shiver down your spine.

A sip of your wine was taken in hopes of warming you out but there wasn't much hope there.

He seems to notice your shivering, setting his glass down before slipping off his jacket. Carlos carefully slips it over your shoulders.

"You didn't-" "I can't sit by and let you freeze, my mother raised me better than that."

You hum, thanking him quietly as you two drank your wine in silence. It was you that broke the silence; "you were fantastic this year."

"Thank you," he smiles, his cheeks flushed red the tiniest bit but the chilled air and wine to be blamed for that. "I didn't know you watched."

"I try too, I keep up when I'm not busy with work." You tell him, looking around the yard.

Carlos takes that moment to look at you; red dress that suited your complexion and body as if it was made for you and you only, your makeup and hair done to a T - something he always admired about you, all tied together with the black bow that held up half of your hair.

"Y/n," he whispers into the silence.

Glancing at the man, you jut your chin towards him. "Hm?"

"You look beautiful."

Now your cheeks have flushed red and you both know it's not the wine nor the cold wind blowing around the yard. "Thank you." You whispered.

"It's my favourite look, y'know."

Head cocked to the side, you looked over at him. "What is?"

"When you get all red and quiet, it's sweet. You look so.. innocent."

You can't help the giggle, shaking your head. "You almost sound nervous there, Carlos."

"I am," he chuckles, chewing at his bottom lip for a moment.

"No way," you laughed, nudging his shoulder with yours. "You ? Nervous? No way."

Carlos nods, smiling at you. It falls quiet between the two of you, the bells from the cathedral ring, signalling that evening mass was over. His hand rested next to yours on the bench, his pinky brushing against yours. You take the soft touch as a cue to interlock your fingers with his.

He squeezes your hand gently, smiling at you.

"¡Carlos! ¿Dónde estás?" (carlos! where are you?) You can hear Reyes shout from around the corner, her voice carrying through the silence.

Carlos takes that as his cue to head in, his hand still interlocked with yours as he stands. He leans down, his lips pressed to yours for a quick kiss.

Your cheeks are as red as the lipstick that was faint against his lips.

"Feliz Navidad, y/n."

[croissantbakerylws]

Your Pick

Fernando Alonso x Fem!Reader

Warnings: pr!reader, a bit of an age gap (reader is mid twenties) randomness from nando's end, unspoken feelings until now, thigh riding, penetrative sex (p in v), a bit of teasing, praise kink go burrrr, creampie.

Word Count: 2,358

Author's Note: I literally only picked the middle pic for @oconso, it was for her. you’re welcome.

merry smutmas series

--

Fernando enlists the help of a certain someone to get his Christmas shopping done but the list is oddly familiar.

A charity event that Fernando attended every year, some sort of mission for children and their dream of being a driver. Fernando gave them an afternoon of his time, indulging them in all of their questions and stories, sharing some of his own as well.

You were, of course, right there with him. You weren't needed for this event exactly but as his press officer, you followed him. Sebastian often joked when he saw you that you were to Fernando what Britta is to him; except for the fact that you are much younger and hadn't been with Fernando for as long.

The idea was the same, you did everything for him. From making sure he gets there on time to meeting fans and signing everything he can.

At some point during the long event, Fernando asks you if you can do him a favour, handing you a piece of paper.

"I need to pick up some stuff, you can take my car. Oh and my card." He tells you, fishing the keys and his card out of his pocket to hand it over to you.

The keys to his Aston in your hand, along with the card and a list with some words scribbled along the lines, both in English and Spanish. You'd just have to figure it out along the way.

"You don't need me to stay?" You asked, looking between the list and the man. Fernando shook his head, "I'm good here. You should be done by the time I'm done here, no?"

"Probably."

"Come back when you're done, I'll wait for you."

You nodded, telling him you'd text him when you're done before you head out. The car beeps when you press the unlock button, a slick, shiny grey DBX 707 sat in the parking lot. You smiled to yourself, getting into the car and shutting the door.

The list sat on your lap, you looked over the things on the list and the places you'd get to go.

First stop on the list was Chanel; a Chanel classic with the double flap in Tiffany blue. It was stunning, Fernando had dotted down that he wanted it in the medium size. You were surprised he even knew what that meant.

His card beeped on the machine, the woman smiles as she hands the bag over to you. You carry it as you walk down the street to Christian Louboutin.

Purses, clothes and shows lined the walls, you felt like you were underdressed but the massive Chanel bag you were carrying fit you right in with the other rich people in the store.

You asked the woman for the shoes that he had written down; so Kate 120 in black, size 8.

You waited for her to bring them back. "Would you like to try them on, miss?" The woman asks, the slick box in her hands. You shook your head, "that's alright, thank you."

"Is this all?" She smiles, and you nod. The woman leads you to the front, doubling checking the sizes of the shoes and packaging it up into the brown bag.

There's one more place on the list that you've got to stop; Dior.

It's a few minutes drive from where you were, you leave the other bags in the car and head into the store. Fernando has listed that he was looking for the Miss Dior perfume. You look around a bit, stopping at the back to look at the wall of fragrances they had set up. You look closely and carefully and still you don't see the one that Fernando had wanted.

You reach for your phone, texting the man.

To Fernando: Hey, they don't have the perfume you wanted.

From Fernando: Which one was that again?

To Fernando: Miss Dior.

From Fernando: Just pick another one.

To Fernando: Any one?

From Fernando: Yeah, you have good taste. I trust your judgement.

You reply with a thumbs up and decide to look for something that you liked. It was a bit odd that Fernando sent you out like this, he did it often but never like this. He was never one to have you shop for someone who was clearly a woman. She must be important to him if he's spending so much on her.

You ended up picking out Dior Addict in place of Miss Dior. This one had the same jasmine scent with more of a vanilla undertone. You pay and take the bag from the man at the counter with a smile.

Getting back into the car, you reach over and set the bag with the others. You texted Fernando to let him know that you were on your way back, to which he replied with a thumbs up emoji.

It was a 20 minutes drive back to where he was, and once you arrived, you waited in the car for him. You were scrolling through your phone when a tap on the window startled you.

Looking over, you see Fernando. You wind down the window, "uber for Fernando ?" He asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

You roll your eyes. "Haha," you say flatly. "Do you want to drive?" You look over at him and he shakes his head, walking around to get into the passenger seat. Fernando lifts your purse, setting it on his lap carefully.

"Where to then?" You look over at him, yet again. "Home?

"Yours," he says, looking through your purse.

"Stop that," you smack his arms, turning the key to start the engine. The car purrs in response, a sound only luxury cars have.

"Do you have gum?" He asks, still looking.

"Front pocket," you inform him, heading towards your place. It didn't strike you as odd to be heading to yours. Fernando often picked you up so you just assumed you'd get home and then he'd head out to his place.

What did strike you as odd was Fernando taking the bags out of the car and following you up the stairs to your front door. "What are you doing?" You turned, clearly confused.

"Go on, I need to come in."

"What if I don't want you to come in?" Your question made him laugh, the man shaking his head. "Just go," he tells you, knowing you're just being difficult.

You unlock the door and walk in, Fernando sets the bags in the living room and makes himself comfortable on the couch. He had been to your place before it wasn't like it was awkward or anything. You just weren't sure why he wanted to come in.

"Want some coffee?" You called from the kitchen, filling the kettle. "Tea would be nice," he calls back.

You shake your head, setting two mugs on the counter. "I didn't offer any tea."

"I'm suggesting it then." He leans over the back of the couch, smiling at you. You roll your eyes, dropping the teabag in the cup while you wait for the kettle to boil.

Finding your way over to the living room, you sit on the floor by the couch. Fernando sets the bags on the floor next to you and you assumed that he was making space for you on the couch but instead spoke; "show me what you got."

The statement left you a bit confused, he had given you a list, of course he knew what was on it but you indulged, taking the stuff out of the bags.

You have them set on the floor in front of you, Fernando watches as you show him each thing carefully, not wanting to scuff or damage them.

"Do you like them?" He asks and you nod, "I do. Just a bit confused though," you look up at the man.

"Why's that?"

"Well.. you've always been the type of guy who shops for their women themselves so it just struck me as odd that you asked me to shop and pick up.. this."

Fernando smiles, "well I was busy and she's an important person to me, perhaps the most important."

You raise an eyebrow, looking at the driver. "Ohhhh okay.. so you have a girlfriend? C'mon, tell me, tell meeeee!" You nudged his knee, propping your elbow up on the couch as you turned your attention to him.

He doesn't say anything, he just smiles at you. This time was different; it wasn't playfully or teasing, there was something sincere about the way he looked at you.

It takes you a moment but you finally speak, "what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"The stuff is for you." He says and you look at him, clearly confused.

"You made me shop for my own Christmas gift? Fernando, that's.." It hits you at once, all the things he had listed were things you had mentioned to him that you liked over the last year or so.

Your hands covered your mouth, looking at him in shock. "Fernando, oh my god.. no." You shook your head, "this is too much."

"It's not," he rests his hand on yours, "you've been by my side for as long as I can remember, you do everything for me. You're the only person I trust and well.. love. You deserve this and so much more."

"It's a lot," you whisper and the man hushes you, letting you pull him into a hug. "Thank you." You whisper yet again, unsure how to repay him for his kindness; you knew you didn't have too, seeing that it was a Christmas gift but still.

Fernando's hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your skin softly. He smiles at you, wondering how he got so lucky. Not everyone gets to have someone they love in their life and he was lucky enough to find that in you.

You can't help it, it was like instinct. Shifting onto your knees when you reach up, your hand wrapping around his wrist to pull him closer, your lips on his.

A part of you thinks he's not gonna react and pretend it never happened and the other part of you expected him to push you away but he did neither.

Instead, he kissed you back.

He helps you up off the floor and onto his lap, having you settle on his lap. "Let me take care of you," he says, his hand cupping your face, finally pulling away from the kiss.

"Yeah," you lean into him once again. You stay in his lap, Fernando pushes the skirt you had on up a bit, shifting you onto his thigh.

His hands rest on your hips, rocking you on his thigh; back and forth very slowly. His head leaned back and he lifted his leg slightly. The sudden change caused you to slide forward, clit rubbing against the denim fabric under you.

The sound that left your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

“So beautiful,” he coos, pushing your hair back off your shoulders. “So good for me.”

You nod, pushing down on his thigh a little harder. “Let me hear all those pretty sounds, you don’t have to be quiet, mi vida.”

Little by little, your top and bra ended up on the floor along with Fernando's shirt. Your hands ran over his shoulders, down his biceps to his forearms.

His fingers creeped up under the hem of your skirt, "I've been waiting to have you to myself."

"Why's that?" You shift a bit to look at him, an arm over his shoulders as you look at him.

“Because I’m gonna ruin all that pretty makeup," he whispers to you, pulling you for a kiss.

It only spiralled from there; hands all over each other, clothes being tugged and pulled on. You’re both impatient, wanting more than you can get too at the moment. 

Fernando scoots you back on his lap, undoing his pants as your skirt gets pushed up on your hips, panties pulled to the side before you sink down onto his cock.

He bucks his hips and your nails drop down from his shoulders to the scratches along his back. He lets out a groan, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Oh god," you mumble, thighs on either side of the man as you roll your hips, arms over his shoulders. One of your hands tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, giving it a solid tug.

Fernando tilts his head back, a soft groan slipping from his lips when he feels your own lips meet his skin.

“Fuck, do that again.” He mumbles, feeling you clench around him. Soon enough he can feel your hands on his shoulders, letting you set your own pace, bouncing on his cock as your nails dug into the back of his shoulders; surely leaving behind red marks. 

His own hands digging into your hips hard enough to leave behind their own marks but that was the least of your concern right now. 

“Fernando,” you whimper, forehead pressed to his.

He feels you clench around him, your hips stuttering and he knows you’re close. His hand moving from your mouth to between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles over your clit and your head falls onto his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds slipping past your lips. 

He rests a hand behind your neck, pulling you back slightly.  “Look at me,” he tells you, kissing you softly. You both knew the other was equally as close, orgasm on the verge of happening. His hand shifted to grab your chin, pulling your focus back to him. “Look at me when you cum.” 

His words were enough to push you over the edge, Fernando following quickly after you. 

You fall flat against him and Fernando lets you sit on top of him for a bit, his hand rubbing around your back softly, fingers tracing random patterns into your skin.

"You okay?" He whispers and you nod, sitting up a bit to look at him. "What?" He asks, seeing the look on your face.

"How did you know my sizes? You know.. for the gifts."

He smiles, kissing your shoulder. "I pay attention, you know."

---

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[croissantbakerylws]

literally me

jdsklfjdsfkasjfldskjfsafjk the fernando one! screaming, crying, throwing up. omgoshhhh

im glad y'all like that one so much!!

[croissantbakerylws]

Can you write a pedro x sick!reader story, but the reader doesn't just have a little cold im talking SICK reader. Like rushing to the emergency room hurt/comfort kinda thing.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

a/n: ok first of all im incredibly sorry for the wait, genuinely im really really sorry. and secondly im not 100% sure i did what you had in mind, which makes me feel like shit even more, so if it's not, you can tell me and ill try to write it again 

"Sir I need you to calm down"

"I will as soon as you answer my questions"

"sir," the paramedic said more sternly now "I've already told you I'm not a doctor so I cannot answer your questions, now please calm down"

And he wanted to fight more and beg that woman to answer his questions because, after all, the only one he cared about was: Is she gonna be ok?

But your eyelids fluttered and the ambulance took a turn and all the sudden he couldn't talk or think or do anything anymore but take your hand in his and start a low chant of the only thing he would allow himself to think, the only thing that still made him able to breathe oxygen into his lungs:

You're gonna be okay, sweetheart, he whispered, his words verging on prayer as he squeezed your hand and watched your beautiful face pale more and more You're gonna be just fine

__ __ __

And as it turns out, his prayers were answered.

"the surgery went well, she's gonna make a full recovery"

He had no words, all he could do was smile like a fucking idiot while he passed a hand through his hair.

She's ok

She's ok

She's ok

That's all his brain was able to muster up, and then for some reason he was hugging the doctor.

"thank you" he grinned "Thank you so much doctor-" he smiled, leaning away "Can I-can I see her?"

The woman cleared her throat, clearly taken aback a bit "Yes," she nodded "she's in the first room on the left, but just so you know the anesthesia is still wearing off so-"

"yes, yes, thank you so much doctor," he couldn't wait for her to finish as he was sprinting to the room already "thank you!" he said one last time, finally opening the door to your room.

He had to stop for a moment and look at you lying on the hospital bed, looking just as perfect as ever.

She's ok

"hey" he spoke softly, approaching your bed, and seeing a smile slowly part your mouth.

"hey"

"How are you feeling?" he asked, moving some hair out of your face and letting his hand linger on your cheek

"not great"

"I'm sorry" he cooed, taking your hand in his and feeling you squeeze it as your eyes watered "What's wrong?" he panicked "Does it hurt- do I call the doctor-?"

"no" you sniffled as a tear fled your eye "I just-"

"what is it, sweetheart?"

"I was just... I was s-so scared"

"oh baby" he murmured, bringing your hand to his mouth to leave a kiss on it "I'm so sorry" he cooed "I can't even begin to imagine how scary that must have been... but hey" he offered you a soft smile as he crouched down to be at your level "you're ok now, there's nothing to worry about anymore" he promised, gently kissing your forehead "you can relax now. I'm here for you, whatever you need you just ask, ok?"

"ok" you nodded, taking a breath "thank you... for everything" you murmured, looking into his kind eyes "for this, for calling the ambulance, for being here for me... just- thank you"

He didn't know what to say, so all he did was kiss you,

"I love you" he smiled "and sugar... don't you ever think about scaring me like that again"

You couldn't help but snort at that

"oh so this is about you then?" you joked

"damn right it is" he laughed in that way he could only do with you "they were about to have to assist two people in that ambulance," he said jokingly (although it was the truth) "and I think I was annoying one of the paramedics so much that I was about to get thrown out"

"oh no what did you do?"

"let's not think about that now," he said, the smile on his lips not able to go away from the first second he saw you

"Baby..." you tilted your head, scolding him silently

"I've brought you a kit-kat" he smiled that smile of his that made you forget what you were talking about every single time 

"You did?" it was as if your eyes sparkled

"Of course" he nodded, handing you the candy bar "I'm not sure you can eat it, we're gonna have to ask the doctor, but I wanted you to have something you liked when you woke up"

Your eyes watered again, but this time, for an entirely different reason

"I love you" you whispered

"I love you more, sweetheart"

[croissantbakerylws]

😳.

[croissantbakerylws]

stop being a hoe Fernando

Abu Dhabi 2023

[croissantbakerylws]

Jimmy the admin rating memes that he's done with Fernando ft. Lance

[croissantbakerylws]

Danke, Seb.

One year since your last race and we still remember you, we still love you and we miss you. You did so much for the sport, for the people, and you’re still doing so much. You’re an inspiration, you’re everything.

[croissantbakerylws]

fucccck i need Fernando Alonso so fucking bad like i need him in a way I can't have like wtf happened to me these days i need him inside me and i fucking need him damn