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lestappen3 · 2 months ago

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Crashing Down | Part 1

pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader x Lando Norris

word count: +/- 2300

plot: Where reader had a terrible crash two years ago, Lando broke up with her, Toto is back into his scheming ways and Max is just there.

note: I haven't used this account in years, but I genuinely missed writing and thought this was a great way of coming back. I have this entire story planned out, but I am not sure if it's good enough. Please let me know if you're interested.

part 2

masterlist

It was 2024. The new racing season was about to begin, with the yearly reminder that you were forced to stand on the sidelines. The roaring engines of the current generation of Formula 1 cars echoed through the Mercedes garage you were currently settled in.

This sound once fueled your entire driving force, and you first discovered this passion when you visited the racing ground with your parents as a child. It must have been twenty years ago. You were around five or six years old. Since that moment, the sound of engines has been a constant presence in your life.

Anticipation and excitement surged through your body as you lowered yourself for the first time in the car of your biggest idol, Lewis Hamilton. Then, the adrenaline rush followed. It was a moment of realisation as if you had found the path you were destined to follow. This feeling was something you wanted to continue to crave after, and it, racing, became your daily motivation. You were okay with wherever you raced, the important matter was that you were in the car, and the engine roared as loud as possible. The sound became a bittersweet reminder of your unfulfilled dreams as time passed. Instead of contemplating your next race and how you could receive a podium finish or, ideally, take home the trophy, you were consumed by persistent thoughts of missed opportunities and countless “what ifs”.

Your fingers brushed against the faded scar on your upper right leg. It was a hot day, so the scar was visible to everyone. It wasn’t pretty, but you rather had the visual reminder of that terrible Sunday afternoon than the mental one that hunted you daily. It’d still hurt, the ache being a reminder of the crash that had taken everything from you. Your life afterwards instantly became a stark contrast to the life you once lived, and the sport you loved dearly had slipped through your fingers.

As life progressed, with or without your approval, you continued to be a part of the Mercedes crew, but everything changed. Everyone moved on. Your father had to assign someone else your seat. George Russell was your replacement. Initially, it’d hurt to see him wearing your suit, your helmet, and have him sitting in your car. Dinners at home were silent. Your parents were afraid to hurt your feelings by talking about how well George was adjusting next to Lewis. It was a thought that occupied your dreams, but you were better, at least a little better, and you decided you were ready to move on. Perhaps not as a racing driver, but you couldn’t let go of the motorsport entirely. At least not yet.

You stood at the edge of the Mercedes garage, watching as the pit crew worked on their preparations for the weekend’s race. The crew hasn’t changed much since you last were in the garage. Many familiar faces of engineers, mechanics and staff greeted, hugged, and welcomed you back. But you could sense the stress and tension through the smiling faces. Everyone was working more hours than intended to have the best car possible for the first race of the season. Everyone was equally important, including you, whether you were a racing driver or not.

As you stood at the edge of your father’s garage, your gaze drifted across the other side of the grid, landing on the orange-coloured banner of McLarens’ garage. Coincidentally, it was when Lando Norris decided to display his newly found confidence. His arm hugged his helmet tight as he was in the middle of a conversation with a few members of his team. Next to him stood his current girlfriend, watching him like he was the brightest sun.

A pang hit your chest. It was as if someone stabbed you with a knife and then twisted it. Again, and again, and again. You hadn’t expected Lando to replace you as well. The crash had driven a wedge between you, something neither of you knew how to fix. Fear, pain, trauma, and Lando’s career further strained the distance between you. And you both just let it happen. It wasn’t either of your faults. It felt like it was something that was entirely out of your hands. Eventually, the love that was once there was replaced with memories and excoriating silence.

It was hard, yes. But the fact Lando moved on after two weeks was cruel. On the bright side, the pain of your broken heart numbed the pain of your injuries.

Unconsciously, you were twisting the ring on your finger. Honestly, you hadn’t expected to still feel like a drowned, sad baby bunny after two years of not setting foot on the grid. Seeing him, seeing how he’d moved on, was painful, but hearing how the media knew was something else entirely. Your relationship wasn’t a secret, per se. You just never announced it, but people noticed the secret glances and the time you spent together when you weren’t preparing for a race. He never shared anything about you, and you just accepted it. Funnily enough, you still would.

Your father’s voice cut through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. Brooding was something you did every day after your crash, and you were thankful your father helped you when you got caught in too deep.

“Hey,” he called, walking towards you.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to join the strategy meeting in fifteen minutes.”

You nodded, “Sure, of course.” Toto paused. He was a considerate team principal but an even more worried father. Since you had asked to join the 2024 season, he had been unsure if it was the best for you. Toto gave you a long look. “Are you alright?”

“I enjoyed plotting strategies to outsmart the other drivers, not just outrace them,” you said with a soft smile.

You noticed your father’s smile turn to a worrying frown. You knew he didn’t want to push you. If it were up to him, you were still at home, watching everything from a TV screen, but he also knew it was in his daughter’s blood to be a part of this world, just as much as it was in his. You had the same fire and the same relentless drive to succeed, especially when it came to motorsport.

As father and daughter made their way to the Mercedes motorhome, the world of Formula 1 came to life. Photographers snapped shots of drivers and team members, while the media and fans went into vulture mode as soon as a driver, or someone who looked like one, walked by them. You became indifferent to the whole ordeal after your second race weekend. The grid was the place you had grown up in, after all.

You felt the flash from one of the photographers’ cameras as you walked through the grid. A little smile started to grow on your face. You were not behind the wheel anymore, not one of the twenty drivers everyone talked about, but it was still the only place that felt like home.

Your mind wandered once more, revisiting your days as a racing driver. You had been good, no, not just good, one of the best. However, everyone makes mistakes, and you were no exception. A single misjudgment had cost you everything. The crash had been brutal and a terrifying reminder of the thin line between life and death in the world of motorsport. Fortunately, you had survived, but your career was not as fortunate. Now, all that remained was walking the paddock as Toto’s daughter, attending meetings, and most frustratingly were the pitying looks from those who stole a glimpse of you.

You had almost reached the Mercedes motorhome as you heard a familiar voice rang out. “Wait!”

You turned around to see the current world champion, Max Verstappen, approaching in his usual attire. His confident stroll, with his head held high and a slight smile playing on his lips, carried him effortlessly through the grid. He had always been like that, confident, walking with a certain amount of presence that made it impossible not to notice him. Whether he was the reigning champion or not, he had this essence.

But Max Verstappen was more than just the fiery Red Bull Racing driver, at least to you. He was one of your closest friends and the rock who had been there for you when the world came tumbling down.

“Are you ready for a weekend of chaos?” Max asked, grinning as he stopped in front of you, leaning casually against the stanchion of the motorhome.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “As ready as ever. How about you?”

Max shrugged. “You know me. I thrive on chaos.” His eyes flashed mischievously, hinting at his love for excitement.

The friendship between the two of you had always been stable. It was built on a shared understanding of being born into a family of motorsport fanatics, mutual respect and the everlasting feeling of stepping in a Formula 1 car simultaneously for the first time in your career.

On top of that, Max never saw you as weak, fragile or broken after your accident. He never showed you pity but instead gave you space or an embrace when you grieved everything you had lost.

He smiled, but there was something softer in his gaze when he looked at you. “You know, it’s good to see you out here again. I know it’s not the same, but…”

You swallowed a breath you didn’t know you held and nodded. You understood what Max tried to say even if he didn’t finish his sentence. He was right. It wasn’t the same. It never would be. But being here, the place you used to call home, mended a piece of you you had been missing for the past two years.

Before Max could say more, Toto cleared his throat behind them. “The meeting is going to start soon. We need to go.”

Max straightened and pushed himself off, offering a nod to Toto. “Good luck this weekend.”

Toto smiled politely in return. “You too, Max.”

As Max strolled towards his team’s motorhome, Toto turned to you. “There’s something important I want to discuss about Max,” he exclaimed.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by your father’s sudden change in tone. “What about him?”

“We need him at Mercedes.”

His words lingered in the air, and you blinked, caught off guard by your father’s directness. “Are you attempting to steal Max?” you uttered in a hushed tone.

“He’s the best driver on the grid. We need him for the future.”

Your father’s words took you aback. You had always believed you were destined to be the future of Mercedes, and there was no need for a Max or even a George. But you also couldn’t blame your father, or anyone for that matter. Lost in your thoughts, you realised you had been staring at your father in disbelief as he revealed his plan to take the brown-haired boy away from his supposed forever home.

“I didn’t expect to be involved in some kind of scheme,” you hushed, processing his words.

Toto nodded in understanding, but that didn’t stop him from letting go of the idea of adding the three-time world champion to his roster of drivers. “He trusts you. You have been racing together ever since you were little kids. You have a connection with him that no one else does. If anyone can get him to consider joining Mercedes, it’s you.”

You laughed at him, not believing what your father was saying. Lewis deciding to leave was a little drastic, but this…

He wasn’t wrong though. You and Max were close. But asking him to leave the place that he considered home? He said he wasn’t sure he would ever go. Red Bull was to Max what Mercedes was to you. His loyalty to the team and to Helmut Marko was like family.

“You’re asking a lot, dad,” you whispered, your mind racing with all the possible scenarios. Max could agree, and your anxious time on the grid would be much less, but he could also be enraged at the idea, being so offended by the thought you used him as a pawn to better your father’s team. Perhaps he would leave altogether? How were you supposed to survive this shit show then?

Your father’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “I know, pea, but the sport is always moving forward. We have to think two or three years ahead. I have to think about the future of Mercedes. And Max-”

He thought about his following couple of words carefully.

“Max is the future.”

You glanced back towards where Max went off to, the Red Bull motorhome, where he stood and chatted with a couple of crew members. You sighed, running your hand through your hair. Your father was right, and you hated it. George was good. But Max and George, and with your current expectations for your car in two years? Mercedes could be unstoppable.

But thinking about your father’s plan created a knot in your stomach. You didn’t want to lose him, you weren’t sure if he could be mad, or worse… And then there was Lando…

You pushed your thoughts aside, forcing yourself to stumble back into reality. You have to decide what your future holds. Was it your happiness? Mercedes? Max? Lando? It felt like your head was about to explode.

“I’ll talk to him,” you finally said, your voice the most steady it had been today.

Toto gave you a smile of appreciation. “Thank you, but it’s not going to be easy. We need to be careful. Max isn’t going to be an easy sell, but if anyone can change his mind, it’s my daughter.”

You were unsure whether that was a compliment or a burden. You also weren’t sure if it was a good decision.

This was just the beginning of something much bigger, on and off the track.

#f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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cazzyf1 · 5 months ago

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An Article about Lella Lombardi - Nobody makes jokes about women drivers around Lella Lombardi

The sleek Lola T-332 racing car crossed the starting line at the river side, Calif, Grand Prix, hurtled ahead of three cars, and swooped back inside with split-second timings.

"You mean that's really a girl?" Muttered three times indianapolis 500 winner A. J. Foyt, looking on in incredulously from the side liners.

For Lella Lombardi, the first woman in 17 years (and the second ever) to compete on high performance Formula One circut - the big leagues of professionals auto racing - the question is all but invetable. What in the world is a nice Italian girl like Lella doing in overalls and a crash helmet, risking her life at speeds close to 200 miles an hour?

"That's what mama keeps asking me," says the tomboyish 31-year-old Lella, "I guess she thinks I should be home with a good husband and a houseful of bambini."

It was obvious from the beginning, to Lella at least, that she was cut from different cloth compared to most girls. Born in the little Piedmontese village of Furgarolo, she was hooked on auto racing before she was out of diapers.

"The first I remember, I am perhaps 4 or 5 years old," she recalls, "I was making little cars from things I found in my mum's sewing box. When I was 8 I decided I shall be a racing driver. I didn't say anything but I made up my mind."

As a teenager Lella raced motorcycles with boys in her village. The boys were scandalized she beat them - their mothers that she was racing at all. Eventually the village priest came to call.

"He explained why I should be like a girl and what a girl must do," she remembers. "So I told him, 'yes father' but all the time I am thinking why am I not allowed to do as I want."

Nothing if not persistent, Lella saw her first race at 18. Five years later she brought a car of her own, secondhand, Formula Monza 500 that she tinkered with and drove in races herself. Last year, nearly after a decade of coming up through the ranks, she was approached by March Racing Ltd, of England which was looking for a driver for its two-man Grand Prix team.

"Formula 2, Formula 3, Formula 5000 - I raced in them all," says Lella, "I win a lot in Italy - six times women's champion. So when March comes to ask me to try out for them, I say to myself, 'Why not?'"

March's decision to hire her was hardly made lightly. A single Grand Prix car costs $100,000 and putting it through a season of racing costs several hundred thousand dollars more.

"Putting a woman into a Grand Prix cockpit means shattering a lot of tradition," acknowledges March team manager, Max Mosley. "Of course, my wild told me, the only reason I was hesitating was because of Lella's sex, no doubt about her skill, in the end, I guess my wife was right."

Now prepping for this Sunday's Monaco Grand Prix, Lella is given little chance of winning a race this season (although she finished a respectable sixth in last week's accident-shorter Spanish Grand Prix) since March is designing its cars. Some drivers perhaps disturbed by Lella's invasion of their male peserve, doubt the chunky, 5"2, Lombardi has the stamina for long-distance racing. But March chief Roy Wardell, was watching her during a gruelling test of the company's racers, disagrees.

"Thrasing a car about it bloody hard work," he says, "most male drivers would have been bitching and complaining but she drove more than 300 miles flat out without a whimper." Her main fault, says Wardell, is a rookie's understandable caution. "Lella is still a bit afraid that if she spins out everyone will say, 'see a woman driver'" he says, "but her confidence is building. Pretty soon she'll be mixing it up with the best of them."

#when i saw this on ebay I knew I had to grab the photo and write out the article #even if I don't like some of the language and terms they use #but still lovely to read about lella #classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #vintage f1 #lella lombardi

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theanimeroom · 6 months ago

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Do you think you could do a NSFW on kazutora please, I just saw this picture and couldn't help but think about how perverted he is and how lonely he is, so what if we found him like this.

the moment i clicked on that picture i got kazu brain rot give me a minute 😖

MINORS DNI || NSFW BELOW THE CUT

this is never where you thought you’d end up.

you’d always imagined what it would be like to start college when you were younger. you wondered where you’d go, what you would do, what people you would meet, you even planned out exactly what your dormitory room would look like when you finished decorating.

the moment you finally stepped into your new life, walking into your new bedroom for the next year, you could feel your imagination coming to fruition. despite all the daydreams and extensive planning you went through to prepare, you never really thought past your first year of freedom.

now, four years in and almost a college graduate, you’ve found yourself in a spacious apartment with your now best friend, kazutora hanemiya. you’d both met during your sophomore year, your roommate at the time, emma, introducing you to him at a house party you were attending. you two hit it off pretty quickly, immediately becoming glued to each others side for the rest of the night, and pretty much every day after that. you spent the next two years getting close to each other until one day, kazutora offered to be your roommate after you expressed your distaste for the prices of the off campus apartments. knowing him and recognizing that it would make your life a lot easier, you agreed rather easily.

living with kazutora was rather simple, thankfully. he was somewhat tidy, always cleaning up the living spaces but constantly leaving his bedroom a hot mess. you didn’t care though, being content with the fact that he at least cleaned the main areas whenever you couldn’t. he was also quiet, you barely ever noticed when he was walking around the house until you were being startled by a hand reaching above you to grab a snack from the cabinet. you even made a ritual out of your sunday nights, always making a huge bowl of popcorn and watching every movie that you could think of until someone passed out from sleep deprivation.

the only downside that came with being so close to your roommate was that you never really got the chance to hang out with him when finals came around. you would both get so wrapped up in studying and finishing your assignments that you would barely see him in a week, let alone every day. along with this being your graduation year, that meant that you had a thesis that needed to be completed before the end of the semester, which left you with no choice but to hole yourself up in your room while you tried to perfect your work.

on this particular day you decided to work in the campus library rather than your home, growing stir crazy and weary of the four walls suffocating you. it was late, the sun long gone and being replaced by the reflection of the moon and stars. your eyes were straining from staring at your computer screen for so long, and after a 10-second too long blink, you knew that it was time to wrap up for the night. yawns and fatigued sighs constantly left your lips as you drove back to your apartment, mind racing with thoughts of your pajamas and duvet that were anxiously awaiting you.

the moment you stepped into your apartment, you could feel your shoulders slack in relief. “kazu, i’m back!” you called out, making sure to say it just loud enough for him to hear, but not too loud in case he’d fallen asleep. you knew that kazutora was also busy with his own final exams coming up, seeing him every so often with his nose in a textbook around the house, or even being told about his study sessions right before he walked out of the house.

when you were only met with silence, you silently maneuvered around the house, making sure not to be too noisy in your wake. you dragged your feet to the stairs, feeling your sleepiness kicking in with every footstep.

well at least someone went to sleep at a decent time, it’s almost 3am.

your thoughts plagued you as you tried to keep your eyes open, not paying any mind to the slight crack in the bedroom door across from yours. when you finally made it to the top of the staircase, a small whimper reverberating through the hallway caught your attention. you peeled your drooping eyes open, eyebrows furrowing as the sound filled your ears again. your gaze was diverted to kazutora’s bedroom, where the ajar door exposed the blue hue of kazutora’s room. with a slight pause, you tried to listen for another noise, wondering if you’d just started hallucinating for a second from exhaustion.

“no,” a whiney voice muttered quietly, and you knew immediately that you were in fact not hallucinating.

taking a step towards the door, you contemplated on what you should do.

is he having a nightmare?

another heavy sigh leaves the room, and you finally decided to check on him for fear of him being in trouble.

“kazu…?” you asked, standing behind the door where you couldn’t be seen or see inside. when you heard kazutora whine again, you got a bit closer. “kazu are you okay?”

you decided to peek inside just for a moment, your eyes clearing the edge of the door until you caught a glimpse of your best friend, causing any and all fatigue to be wiped away from your stature without a trace. your eyes widened as you took in his figure; eyes locked shut and brows furrowed, skin tainted red as his hand shuffled in the confines of his sweatpants. there were a box of tissues laying next to his body that was propped up against his headboard, random pieces of the cloth crumpled along his sheets as his hips lunged off the bed. there was another whine, this one unintentionally going straight between your legs.

the wire of his headphones laid against his chest, sliding along the toned pecs with every heavy breath that escaped him. you were frozen in place, eyes wide and mouth watering as you shamelessly watched your best friend jerk off. a small part of you felt bad for playing the role of peeping tom, but when he was making such pretty noises, you weren’t exactly sure how you were supposed to react.

kazutora’s head jerked to the side, more than likely a reaction from whatever was playing into his ears right now, before a more guttural sound penetrated your own, the deep groan sounding like it came from the deepest parts of his chest. another whine slipped from him immediately after, his face contorting into something that looked almost like he was in pain.

he sounds so pitiful, fucking hell.

it looked like he was struggling, a small pout taking over his lips as his hand started to move spastically in his sweats, urgently trying to force himself into a release.

you found yourself taking a small step forward, your body moving instinctively without taking your eyes off of your best friend.

what am i doing? i really should get some help.

your intrusive thoughts didn’t stop you from quietly approaching him though, the dampness of your panties taking over your brain. you knew that this was a line that shouldn’t be crossed, you knew that this could potentially ruin everything that the two of you built for the past 3 years. but you also knew that kazutora was quite an intriguing person.

you knew he was attractive from the moment you laid eyes on him, and after having your first conversation, you were pretty much whipped for the man regardless. it was only when you’d become closer to him that you’d buried your lust in the deepest parts of your mind, hopefully to never be seen again, until today.

you didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship, not now, but when he was being so shameless, how were you supposed to control yourself?

you stopped your approach when you were hovering over the male, a close up look of the desperation painting his face leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. you watched him for another moment, taking in the sight before a manicured finger brushed the material of his sweatpants against his thigh.

with a sharp gasp kazutora nearly launched himself off of the bed, eyes looking like they were about to pop out of his head from fright as he ripped the headphones from his ears. you didn’t move as he scrambled to take his hands out of his pants, breathing labored and face even more red than it was before you made yourself known.

“sorry,” you couldn’t stop the small grin that plastered itself onto your face as you spoke. “i called your name but… i guess you couldn’t hear me.”

“y/n what are you doing??? you scared the shit out of me,” he chastised, not even acknowledging the position he found himself stuck in.

you put on a nonchalant visage before shrugging your shoulders, placing one of your knees against the cushion of his bed. kazutora pushed himself further against his headboard, mentally questioning what you were doing right now without ever taking his eyes off of you. “i was coming to check on you because i heard rather…. questionable noises coming from your room.”

“and now that you know what they were, you can leave now, right?” he asked, his eyes pleading with you to just forget everything you just saw and pretend like it never happened. he fidgeted in his spot, legs moving every so often and gaze constantly averting yours. you’d never seen the man like this before, but it lit something inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. wondering just how far you could take this, you decided to press your luck just a little bit.

“and what would be the fun in that?” you chuckled, placing one hand on the thigh closest to you before digging the pads of your fingers into the material covering his skin. “besides, weren’t you having a bit of trouble finishing the job?”

your question made his ears turn bright red, silence taking over him as you slowly climbed your way into his lap. you didn’t miss the way his breath hitched when you made yourself comfortable, seating yourself right on the throbbing bulge between his legs. kazutora watched your every move, but never made a motion to stop you. you decided to test the limits when you placed a hand on his chest, applying a bit of pressure as you carefully rolled your hips against his.

the moan that came out if the man under you was something deadly, the sharp sound piercing your ears in a way that you could only describe as delightful. the longer you played with kazu the more you found yourself losing your cool, listening to his sounds of pleasure and shock and knowing that it was you who made him lose it this way.

“w-wait, y/n…” he said, hands trying to keep themselves at bay.

“c’mon kazu,” you smiled, biting at your lower lip. kazutora’s eyes were glued to where your crotch slid against his, the friction of your hips doing so much more for him than the audios he was listening to previously. he watched as you rocked against him, his legs twitching and hips bucking up for more with every movement. you leaned in slowly, closing the distance between your faces before you lifted his gaze to yours. his pupils were blown wide, a lustful gaze clouding his face. “won’t you let me help you out a little bit?”

you could feel his breath fan against your lips with every heave, and you wondered in that moment just how good his lips would feel against yours. you stalled right before your lips could touch, your eyes locking with his one last time for a final confirmation.

kazutora paused for a millisecond before eyeballing your semi-parted lips. “you know there’s no going back after this?”

you could tell he was having the same reservations as you, but you held your resolve and nodded your head. the moment you saw that flicker in his eye, you knew you had him hook, line, and sinker. “fuck it.”

his lips smashed against yours the moment the words left his mouth, a soft grunt slipping past your mouth and into his at the pressure. the kiss felt even better than you had imagined it to be, the softness of his bottom lip between yours left your brain fuzzy and body warm. you grabbed at his dark locks as you rocked your body against his once more, huffing out a weak moan as the slick lining your panties rubbed against your clit just right.

your tongue swiped at his lower lip, humming when he parted his lips to allow you in. he tasted like mint mixed with a hint of beer, probably a result of the last study session he had with his classmates in a nearby cafe a few of hours earlier. you relished the smooth glide of his tongue against yours, swallowing every needy sound that escaped his mouth.

his fingers twitched against the sheets as he watched you use him for your own pleasure, his eyes darkening as he tried to resist digging them into your waist. your parted your lips from his with a sloppy smack, peering into his eyes as you glide your hands along his shoulders, down to the dips on the inside of his elbow, before wrapping your own fingers around his hands and placing them onto the soft skin of your waist.

“don’t be scared, kazu,” you spoke softly, keeping your faces only an inch apart as you continued to guide him. you listened to the way his breath caught in his throat as you dragged his hands up your body, pausing when the palms of his hands were wrapped around your breast, the thin layer of the tank top you were wearing leaving little to the imagination. with a soft squeeze you rolled your eyes back, relishing in the feeling of his hands on you. with a soft exhale you leaned into the man’s grip, bringing your lips as close to his ear as possible. “you can use me however you want to get off.”

turns out, phrasing it as “however” he wanted wasn’t the best idea. the moment the words slipped past your lips you were immediately flipped onto your back, the feeling of sharp teeth digging into the flesh of your neck. he bit and sucked on every area that he could find, hands covering every expanse of you. the ghost of his touch made your back arch, aching deeply for the feeling of his cock filling you.

you were so overstimulated that you didn’t even register the feeling of his fingers slipping down your naked lower half, not even sparing your swollen clit a passing touch before he shoved two fingers into your sopping cunt. your eyes immediately touched the back of your head, hands crumpling the fabric of the pillow under your head. violent curses rang out from you as he wasted no time in curling them upwards, ramming the pads of the digits into that spongy area that left you seeing stars.

“sorry princess,” he huffed through labored breaths. you weren’t sure whether he was fucking you or if you were fucking him at this point. he arched his wrist once more, relishing in the feeling of your walls squeezing around his fingers. “i’m in a rush too, but i gotta get you ready. don’t wanna hurt you.”

kazutora placed another few kisses against your neck, lips traveling across your body until he was hovering between your legs, eyes glancing up as you followed his movements. with another curl of his fingers, you rolled your hips.

your best friend lowered his head, pressing a light kiss against the hood covering your clit. your hips jerked at the action, barely even having time to register the initial touch before your clit was enveloped into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves. you gasped, hands weaving into his hair as his ministrations shot straight to your lower belly. his fingers continued to poke and prod at your g spot, your moans taking over the sounds of your essence leaking over his hand. he pulled away for a moment, a discontent whine leaving you at the loss of pleasure. “can’t let my baby get hurt trying to take me, now can i?”

your heart sank at the statement, your eyes peeling open to glance down at the bulge pressing against his sweats. you knew from sitting on it that it was at least a bit girthy, but you also knew that the man wouldn’t say anything that he knew wasn’t true. especially in a situation like this.

and pleasantly surprised you were when kazutora had pulled his lips away from your clit, leaving your breathless form laying haphazardly against the bed while he finally slipped of his sweats and underwear. you’d only noticed it when the man himself had brought you back down to earth, hand gripping your jaw before pressing his lips against yours roughly. you could taste your essence on his tongue as he dragged the tip of his cock against your folds, your body jerking when it brushed against your clit.

at the first ounce of pressure as he slid inside of you, you knew that this man was much bigger than whatever you’d imagined. peeling your heavy eyes open to glance down at where you two were connected, your gaze was something akin to horror as you watched the fat tip bully it’s way into your pussy. the first couple of inches left your cunt clenching down at the pressure, the burn making your face contort.

“i know baby, i know,” kazutora muttered softly, face tucking itself into the crook of your neck as he tried to pace himself. he placed light kisses over what are soon-to-be bruises, waiting until your rapid breathing had calmed down before pressing in some more. “that’s why i had to prep you.”

no amount of prep could have saved you from this, but there was no stopping as kazutora filled you to the brim, hips flush against each other. the man’s cock reached places in your body that you didn’t even know existed, the pressure of him filling you to the brim being enough leave your head spinning and body twitching. your hips instinctively rolled in search of more friction, feeling the man’s cock throb as he reached impossibly further into you.

the first thrust of his hips forced a guttural sound from your throat, the next one getting caught behind the phantom sensation of his tip breaching your throat.

“f-fuck!!” your voice was higher than you were used to hearing, your mouth growing dry from having it open for so long. the sounds of moans and squeaks from the bed were quickly heard resonating around the room, your skin felt like it was on fire every time his hips connected with yours. his thrusts were brutal, every muscle in your body tightening and loosening while the sounds of his moans penetrated your ears.

“so. fucking. good.” he almost growled, each word being punctuated by a harsh thrust behind it. “so much better than a stupid hand…”

“yeah?” the word nearly went unheard with your softened tone, legs wrapped around the man’s waist to pull him closer. you locked eyes with him, a tired hand reaching up to cup his cheek. kazutora moaned at the contact, the whimper coming out strained as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. you loved how easy it was to make him crack, just a smidge of attention and the man before you was putty in your hand. “maybe we should do this more often then.”

you couldn’t remember a day when he wasn’t yearning for your attention, honestly. anytime you came around he was stuck to you like glue, you could barely even move around the house without him making himself known to you in some way. he may have been relatively quiet, but you always saw him at least a few times a day, and both of you being distracted with school really took a toll on you both. he was always right by your side, but you had the tendency to be just as needy, so you never had a problem with it. the more you thought back on all the tell tale signs, the more you realized that this outcome probably would have been the end result to your friendship anyway.

“how about everyday?” he asked, head perching up at the suggestion. his eyes were big and hopeful, and you had to clench around him to make his expression change before your heart tried to explode. “is that a yes?”

with a small hum you placed your lips right next to his ear. “why don’t you make me come first, then we’ll talk.”

and come you did.

it took all of 10 seconds before kazutora was picking you apart; legs raised and placed against his shoulders, body folded in half, while his fingers placed themselves in the crooks between yours.

you were barely conscious by that point, eyes blurry and your body shaking from the intensity of his thrusts. you could barely breath, short hics resonating from your throat before being masked by kazu’s lips. you felt like you would die at any moment, yet you were convinced that this was the closest to heaven you’d ever get.

you could feel the heat rising in your stomach, eyes locking with his as you squeezed the hand that was occupying your own.

“m’gonna come…” you slurred, short breaths taking over your body as your brain short circuited. “gonna come, gonna come!!”

your back arched off the bed the best it could as every nerve in your body was set on fire, tingles shooting through your spine and running down to the tips of your toes. you clenched around him, nearly suffocating his cock as he worked you through your high. his pace never slowed as his own orgasm took him by surprise, a quick grunt slipping through as he pulled away.

you didn’t hesitate to wrap your free hand against his shaft, jerking the tip until his body was trembling in your grip. his eyes immediately crossed, breathy moans becoming more frantic before stopping instantaneously. “wait…wait, wait–”

“fucking– shit! ohmygod…” his body froze as his release stained your stomach, his body jerking with every inch of the thick, white stream. you stroked him through it until his hips were running away from your touch, the long anticipated orgasm he was searching for finally flooding through him. he tucked his head into your neck once more, his words being muffled by the surface of your skin as he searched for your warmth. “oh my- ughhh fuck me.”

your eyes slipped shut as your body sank into the sheets, your legs slipping from kazutora’s shoulders and onto the sides of his hips. your best friend slumped beside you, body plopping onto the space beside you while his hand never left yours, even for a moment. you could only hear the sounds of both your heavy breathing, attempting to catch your breaths as the heat of the moment started to wear off.

the silence was broken when kazutora let out a soft hum, body leaning into yours too seek your warmth. when you nuzzled into his touch, you laughed to yourself when you heard him mutter into your ear. “so, what was that about doing this more often?”

don’t plagiarize! it’s not nice <3

©️ theanimeroom

#blues asks 💎#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tr kazutora smut #kazutora smut #kazutora hanemiya smut #kazutora hanemiya #tr smut

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lewisvinga · 1 year ago

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skyfall | max verstappen x reader!

summary; when once again abu dhabi was the decider for the world championship, but this time it was between ex lovers.

warning; angst 😝

word count; 1.3k

note; skyfall by adele is so good , but there might be typos idk

masterlist !

Abu Dhabi 2023. A race Y/n has been looking forward to since the start of the season. Although her season had a bit of a rough start, the McLaren driver shocked the world. After ending below P10 in the first few races, Y/n pushed through and started winning races, quickly catching up points wise to a certain Red Bull river.

Max Verstappen.

What once was the perfect depiction of young love quickly turned into an intense rivalry. They were young and in love, but they were too focused on their career. With Max’s anger issues, and Y/n’s stubbornness, their relationship ended horribly.

It ended to horribly that the other drivers had to make sure they weren’t together. During media duties and post and pre race interviews, they had to make sure that Y/n and Max weren’t near each other. And if they ever were near each other, it was living hell for everyone on the grid.

It didn’t help the fact that they were currently tied in points for the World Championship. For Max, it’d be his 3rd, but for y/n? She’d do anything to become the first female Formula One driver to be the champion of the world.

The weekend started off tense in the McLaren and Red Bull garages. It was so tense that Lando and Sergio had come up with multiple plans to try to avoid the garages.

Next came qualifying, which went exceptional for Max as usual. For the McLaren driver, it didn’t turn out so well. Ending up at P8. y/n felt sick to her stomach. Not the type of sick from being so nervous, but the type of sick where she was so angry and struggled to contain it.

It just seemed like luck wasn’t on her side as she finished at P8. However, she knew she’d do anything to make it out on top on Sunday.

Lando avoided her like the plague on Sunday. As much as he loved his teammate and enjoyed being around her, he knew that it was no time to joke around. The other McLaren workers copied his strategy. They knew one wrong thing could set Y/n off and they did not want to risk her losing.

The young Brit told her good luck and gave her a quick hug which she didn’t want to admit that she needed. As y/n makes her way to her car, she sees Max stood by his car and glancing at her. They both swore a sudden bitter taste filled their mouth as they made eye contact. They knew this race will ruin anything they ever had and anything they could ever try to have.

Y/n takes a deep slow breath once she was finally at her spot of P8, waiting for the green light to go. It felt like time was moving insanely slow as she sees the red lights slowly go off before it finally turned green.

The start of the race was tame with Max keeping his place of P1 in the first few laps. Y/n managed to take over Charles and Lando, giving her the place of P6 in the beginning. She wasn’t satisfied with it. Of course, she couldn’t be. There were still 5 more drivers she needed to overtake in order to be first.

Y/n soon catches up to George and she easily overtakes him and Carlos soon after. Lewis was a bit of a challenge. He’s a 7x champion of the world and an experienced driver. Nonetheless, Y/n drove past him, placing herself in P3.

She was behind the two Red Bull drivers. Sergio was at least close to her but Max already had a bit of time ahead of his teammate. She was so close when suddenly heard a voice.

“Y/n, we’re gonna need you to box.”

“What?” She loudly exclaims, “No, I’m so close to taking him over. Why?” She continues, starting to get frustrated.

“Now, y/n. We don’t want to risk anything by doing it later.”

Y/n felt furious but she listened. She knew she had to push herself in order to pass Max. By the time she made it back on track, she was at P5. Luckily for her, she was a fantastic driver and in no time she made it back to P2.

Max was still 15 seconds ahead of her. He felt satisfied knowing that he was ahead of her. He ignored the strange feeling in the back of his mind that he started to feel. He used to be madly in love with her. She used to be the one who could make him smile and laugh with a simple joke. She was the one who he could go to after getting into an argument with his father.

Sometimes it shocked him how badly their seemingly perfect relationship ended.

It shocked him enough to be distracted until he realized that y/n was right behind him. He was getting yelled at through his radio to focus and get farther ahead so he can box.

He managed to gain speed and lengthen the time between them. But he could only keep it up for so long until his tires had to be changed. Despite Red Bull being quick at changing the tires, Y/n immediately took P1.

Once Max was back on track, it was like a war between the two. A minute later, he’d be in first, the next minute, y/n would take his place. The gap between the two of them and the rest of the drivers was large. They didn’t have to worry about someone else potentially taking their place.

The last lap was like a war. Everyone watched intensely they drove pretty much side by side. It was difficult to figure out who was ahead and who wasn’t.

Y/n glances at Max, only to see him looking back at her. Filled with hurt and anger from their past relationship, she pushed through on the last turn. She could see the checkered flag in the distance. The same flag she had been dreaming about throughout the week. She accelerated, gaining a second ahead of Max.

Time passed by slowly as she finally passes the waving checkered flag.

“Y/n L/n, you are champion of the world.”

Shock and disbelief filled Y/n’s body. Months of sacrifice and spending the last hour fighting for her spot was all worth it. It felt like she was on cloud nine as she parks the car in her designated spot and quickly gets out to celebrate with her teammate and her team.

Joy and ecstasy was all she felt as she made her into the cooldown room. Sergio, who placed third, gave her a tight hug to congratulate her.

“Felicidades, chiquita.” [congratulations, little one] Sergio says in a soft tone, pulling her into a tight hug. Despite being Max’s teammate, he always cared deeply for her.

Y/n lets out a chuckle as she wraps her arms around him. “Gracias, Checo.” [thank you, checo] she responds as they both pull away and take sit down at their designated seats.

The air in the cooldown became thick as a certain Dutch player made his way inside. Sergio awkwardly coughs as he turns away, wanting nothing more than to leave the room. Max and Y/n knew that there were camera’s recording which meant if they didn’t want to give their PR team a headache, they had to be civil.

Y/n gets a flashback of their relationship. Oh, how younger her would’ve loved to scream and run into his arms. Younger him would’ve kissed her from the joy and pride he would’ve been feeling.

They would’ve been celebrating on the podium together, proud of their journey. They would’ve been partying together to celebrate the end of a fantastic season. They would’ve gone home together and spend the rest of their week relaxing. They would’ve been the perfect couple.

But one argument let the sky fall and made their once seemingly perfect love, crumble.

#formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula one scenarios #formula one imagines #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #formula 1 x reader

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stupidasfuck · 11 months ago

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Godlike Platonic!Grid x Reader

Summary: The reader defends the drivers in front of the reporters and calls them out on their behaviour towards the drivers.

A/N: english is not my first language and to be honest I don‘t know how I feel about this one but I hope you still enjoy it. Have fun reading <3

It‘s a Sunday and Lando, Max, Daniel and I find ourself in a post race interview. Everything would be fine if the reporters wouldn‘t harass Lando with questions about a mistake that caused him to DNF with only two rounds left in the race.

He, as always, beats himself up about his mistake and the reporters only make it worse. My mood at the beginning of the press conference was pretty good, I finished P2.

But hearing the reporters ask more or less the same stupid questions over and over again and seeing that Landos mood is getting worse and worse, my mood is getting worse too and I have no issue with showing it, an eye roll here a head shake there.

I am known for my attitude and to make my PR managers life a living hell. I always say what I think without thinking of the consequences. Which is mostly the truth. That wouldn‘t be a problem if humans wouldn‘t be so damn sensitive. At least that is what I always tell myself.

And this exact behaviour got me in this situation.

“Y/N, you seem pretty annoyed in the last few minutes. What is going on?“ One of the reporters asks curiously.

“Whats going on?“ I ask rhetorically. “Let me tell you what is going on.“ I can already hear my PR manager yell at me. “You guys are harassing Lando with the same stupid questions for the better part of the last ten minutes. That is what the fuck is going on my nerves. What is also getting on my nerves is that you all are acting like you know everything better and can do everything better than we do, which is bullshit because if you would, you would be sitting in these cars and not us. You are also acting like the mistakes we make are the god damn end of the world, they aren‘t. If you want races without any mistakes then you would have to replace every human in Formula 1 with robots. Because that is what we are humans.“ I say sternly. “A lot of people like to forget that. I know when we drive these cars at 250 Kilometers per hour we seem Godlike and with Godlike I mean flawless, perfect and infallible-“

“And with ‘we‘ she means her.“ Daniel interrupts me to try to light up the mood. I can‘t help but smirk lightly at that before I continue.

“- but we are not. Like I said we are. just. humans. We make mistakes, we are‘t infallible or perfect. And that is good because like my mother always said perfect is boring. And that is true, lets be honest if every race would go perfectly, without any mistakes nobody would watch it due to the fact that it would be boring. You guys need to except that and need to realise that it‘s okay when we make mistakes and to stop rub it in our god damn faces and to stop beating us up because of that, for being human. Believe me we do that enough without your stupid questions and assumptions. Well at least I do. So yeah I am annoyed because you idiots think you are allowed to talk down on us just because you think you know it better.“

I look back at the reporters to see most of them looking like a dear caught in headlight’s.

“Ah thank you. I am sure a lot of us will take note of that and be more respectful in the future.“ The reporter from earlier sais. “You better fucking do.“ I scoff.

There are a few more questions wich are more respectful this time. Most of the reporters seem pretty uncomfortable and happy when the time is up and they can leave.

The four of us were walking towards our garages when Lando speaks up “Thank you by the way.“ He sais smiling at me. “Oh don‘t be so arrogant Lan. Who said I did that for you? That was purely for my well being.“ I say smirking. The others just laugh. “No but lets be real they need to stop with this shit otherwise I am not gonna be that nice next time.“ Daniel rises his eyebrows at me. “Hey you know it could have been way worse.“ I ad when I see Daniels look.

“True.“ Max agrees.

“Yeah but still tank you. But I was wondering, do you writhe your speeches yourself or do you have someone that does that for you?“

“Oh yeah very funny Lando haha. You are just jealous.“ I say in fake annoyance and cross my armes over my chest.

“Oh come on you know I am messing with you.“ He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side.

“Yeah what ever you idiot. I need a shower and real alcohol. I expect to see every one of you at the club later.“ I say and point a finger at each of them with a stern look.

“Of course we are gonna be there how could we say no to an invitation like that.“ Danny jokes.

“I mean it. If I don‘t see you, I will drag your asses to the club myself.“ I call after them walking towards my driver room.

Thats it i hope you like it <3

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 #english is not my first language #lando norris x reader #lando norris #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #f1 grid x reader #platonic

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adventuringblind · 1 year ago

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Maybe you could do a Carlos and Charles one were the reader is the reserve driver and in her first season of it and she’s not used to the travelling and the new stress so she can’t sleep and then they notice how tired she’s getting and one day they all go to work out together and she faints and they are really sweet looking after her (fluff)

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Charles leclerc x reader x Carlos Sainz

Summary: getting better at following prompts, but this is also a tad angsty. Set in Qatar 2023 (Carlos is sick instead of having car issues).

Warnings: sickness, overheating, passing out

Notes: Poor Carlos not getting to race T_T

Masterlist

Making it this far in Formula 1 as a female was hard enough. Actually proving to be worth it is even harder.

Carlos and Charles had been her rock throughout. The fans have taken notice of how close the three of them are. Which can be attributed to the fact they have been dating for over a year now, and Carlos has an incessant need to touch both his partners at every moment.

It helps all three get to stay in the same hotel and can run back and forth between hotel rooms if neccecary.

Carlos had woken up on Friday feeling sick. He struggled with the car all if qualifying and was disappointed with his thirteenth place.

Same thing on Saturday. He was struggling so much that Charles was trying his best to discreetly ask about it. He almost passed out trying to get out of his car. Herself and Charles had to help him get his fireproofs and dump cold water over him.

Ferrari decided he couldn't race and would put their reserve driver in his place. To chich Carlos and Charles tried to stop.

"It's to hot!"

"And that wasn't going to stop either of you!"

That point won her the argument, and she lined up in thirteenth on the grid Sunday night. Which to their credit, it was hot. And it didn't help that she'd already been pushing her limits all weekend with the stresses of life as a female driver.

If she's being honest, she's shocked she crossed the finish line at all with the way things were going. She pushed hard for two hours. Managed no to crash into anyone. She even managed the tires despite the heat.

She planned on celebrating tonight. She may have ended in the same place she started, but it felt good. She felt more confident in herself. Maybe she could get a seat somewhere.

That was until she couldn't get out of the car. Or maybe she did, but she was so out of it she couldn't tell.

The last thing she felt was her helmet smacking the ground.

~~~~~

The lights are horribly blinding when she opens her eyes. Her mouth is so dry she feels like she's had nothing but salt for years.

She readjusts herself in the bed of scratchy linen fabric. What happened? Did she crash? Was finishing such a hard race simply a dream?

"Amour? How are you feeling?" Comes the voice of Carlos. She looks to where he is sitting. His eyes look tired, but his movements are gentle as he reaches for her hand. Charles is slumped on his shoulder asleep.

"Dehydrated and exhasted." She rasps. "What happened?"

You got out of the car and passed out. You weren't the only one either. Charles is exhausted as well." He looks to the Monegasque with sad eyes. "We did have a bet going about whether all three of us can fit in your bed or not."

"Shall we test it out then?"

All three climb into the bed. It's a tight fit, but they manage to make it work with entangled limbs.

It's a nice feeling, falling asleep this time. Inbetween her boys. Their arms draped around her protectively.

"At least you finished the race."

"At least you finished in the points."

"Both of you are tired. Go to sleep!"

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tkwrites · 8 months ago

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I'll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest via Bauer Hockey

Title: I’ll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC)

Summary: When an opportunity for Quinn to meet her uncle arrives, Sarah jumps at the chance, and they attend a St. Patrick's Day party at her uncle's house on Salt Spring Island. On the ferry ride back home, Sarah finally explains why she had to be close to family after her mothers death, necessitating her move to Vancouver.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, grief, and meeting new family. Talks of suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation. No attempts or methods are described or discussed.

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for a long time. In many ways, it's extremely self-indulgent. I loved writing the banter between Sarah and her uncle Travis, and it was very healing for me to write about Sarah’s experiences after her mothers death.

Sarah’s experiences are very similar to the experiences I had after losing my father. My dad died three years ago in September, and I have not experienced any kind of suicidal ideation for over a year and a half. While I was in the thick of it, it felt like I was always going to be stuck in that darkness. The other side of that chasm is so beautiful and so worth the work it took to get here.

I was very lucky that I already had a therapist who could refer me to a specialist and friends and family who cared very deeply about me and my mental well-being. Seeing a psychiatrist to get on medication was one of the best decisions I ever made.

If you are having or have thoughts like these in the future, please, please talk to a friend and a professional to get help. The world is such a better place with you in it. xx

I’ll Be Proud For You

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah grabbed Quinn's wrist as he walked toward the kitchen. “Do you have plans for St. Patrick's Day?”

“I think Garly's having a party. Why?”

“My uncle Travis always hosts a dinner party since we’re Irish, and I wondered if you wanted to come with me.”

“Sure.”

A smile took over her whole face, and he was instantly glad he agreed.

Internally, though, his heart was racing. Her uncle was the closest family she had nearby. When she first moved to the city, she'd lived with him for a year. She still went to his house at least two Sundays a month. Quinn knew they were close.

At least he had a while to mentally prepare.

“It’s a bit of a drive - they live on Saltspring, so we have to take the ferry.”

“Just means I get to spend more time with you,” he said with a shrug. “Plus, I like it over there.”

Her smile got bigger, and he swore his knees got a little weak. God, what wouldn’t he do for that smile?

“Is there anything I should do to prepare?” he asked, sitting next to her.

“Just wear something green. And don't wear anything that says 'Kiss me, I'm Irish' unless you actually want to be kissed.”

“Wouldn't mind being kissed by you,” he said with a wink.

Laughing, she leaned over and obliged.

He instantly wished they weren't at the dining room table so he could lay her out and kiss her like he meant it.

A few minutes later, the nagging feeling of neglecting her studying won out, and Sarah pulled away. “I'm sorry,” she said, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, “I really need to finish this. Give me thirty minutes?”

“Then you're mine for the night?”

She nodded.

“Okay.” He kissed her forehead and wandered to the kitchen to make dinner.

As she left school for the aquarium the next day, Sarah called her uncle Travis.

“Hey, Sar, how are you doing?”

“Good. How are you, Trav?”

“Great. Samson started crawling on Tuesday.”

“What? No.”

“Yep.”

“I refuse to believe he’s crawling already.”

“I know. It’s the worst. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know I'm bringing someone with me on Sunday.”

“One of your roommates?”

“No, someone I'm seeing.”

He actually seemed to choke on whatever he was drinking and coughed a few times before asking, “I'm sorry, what?”

“We've been going out for a while, and I want him to meet everyone.”

“How long is a while?”

“Two and a half months.”

“And you were going to tell us when?”

“I was waiting to see how serious it would be.”

“And it's serious?”

“I think it’s headed that way. I want to see what you think of him.”

“What's his name?”

“Quinn.”

“How did you meet?”

“At the aquarium,” she said, “he asked me out to lunch, and we've been dating ever since.”

“He lives in the city?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything I should know about him?”

“Just that I really like him. Please promise you won't embarrass me.”

“No can do. That's what uncles are for, but I can promise I won't pull out your baby pictures.”

“You don't even have my baby pictures.”

“Precisely. Otherwise, I probably would.”

Rolling her eyes, she asked what she could bring to dinner. After deciding she would bring the soda bread and butter, they hung up, and she sent the plan to Quinn.

Great. When should I pick you up?

I'm driving, so I'll come get you.

You have a car?

Technically, it's my uncles, but I haven't driven in forever, so I’m calling transportation on this one.

He laughed. Tocc canceled practice tomorrow so we can leave whenever.

I'll pick you up at 1 then?

What time is dinner?

5, but the drive over is 2 and a half hours, and I like to be there a little early to help out.

“Why does your uncle keep a car here?” Quinn asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“I have parking included with my apartment, so it just made sense. I drop it off at the Ferry terminal once or twice a month for Trev when he has to come to the mainland for work.”

“I didn’t know that. Let me know next time and I’ll give you a ride home.”

She shot a grateful smile at him before looking back to the road.

It was a strange thing for Quinn to be a passenger. He was usually the one driving, and rarely got the chance to watch her for such a long period of time uninterrupted.

He was taken with her. With the constellation of freckles on her cheeks and the button of her nose, and the round swell of her bottom lip. He wondered if anyone would notice if they just made out on the ferry ride over. She didn’t have tinted windows. Probably not the best idea.

She was wearing the same green dress she’d worn when Brady came to town. It still looked beautiful and soft, and he still couldn’t stop the fantasies of stripping it off her from clouding his mind.

“How was your morning?”

“Fine.” he scrubbed his hands over his face, “It’s nice to have a day off.”

“I bet,” she said, reaching over to entwine her fingers with his.

They held hands until they hit traffic and she had to get back to the gear shift.

He’d never driven a manual transmission, and he was impressed by her seamless shifting, despite the fact that she was a bit of a terrifying driver. He found himself reaching for the door handle more than once as she weaved in and out of traffic and went a little too fast for his liking.

“How was your day?” he asked to distract himself.

“Good. I did some reading and finished up some assignments I’d put off from earlier in the week.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of putting things off,” he teased.

She snorted and threw him a sarcastic look.

“You’re so organized, I didn’t think you could.”

Quinn had seen her planner once. It was the size of a college notebook with a column for every day of the week. Each of her classes was assigned a different color, and every day was an organized riot: hours blocked for class, work, assignments, tests, and readings to be completed. He didn’t know how she got it all done. He was exhausted just reading it. Then, he’d smiled when he realized he was there. She had all his games and their plans and dates written in sparkly blue ink.

“I still miss things. Sunday is my catchup day,” she explained. “Usually, I sleep in and do my homework on the ferry over and back, but I wanted to have it done early so I could spend the time with you.”

“It would have been okay,” he said.

The smile she gave him made his heart patter against his lungs. That, along with a stop so sudden, the seatbelt engaged to snap him back, made it a little hard to breathe.

“Thank you, but I would rather spend this time with you.”

His heart warmed at the gesture, and her willingness to give up her one morning to sleep in to spend time with him.

Once on the ferry, they stayed in the car and talked instead of going up on deck. He told her about practice and trying to push aside his nerves about making the playoffs, “Everyone keeps talking about it like it’s a guarantee.”

“Well, you are second in the league.”

“Yeah, but so much could change. I don’t want to get my hopes up, and the media asks about it practically every day. I’m getting so tired of telling them, ‘that’s what we’re aiming for, and we have a group that can get there.’” He threw his voice into a self-depricating, exaggerated version of itself.

Despite her attempt to stifle it down, a giggle spilled out of her mouth. “I think they’re probably asking because it’s going to happen.”

“We don’t know that. Demmer’s out, and we haven’t been doing great…” he trailed off.

“You’re still first in the Pacific by almost 10 points, Quinn. Can’t you celebrate that for a minute?”

He sighed, “it’s just… so much can change in a month, and I don’t want to be the guy who talks about how good it will be to play in the playoffs only to have his team not make it. I’d be a laughing stock on the internet for the rest of time and a lesson to all other captains to not jinx it.”

“I’d never considered it that way.”

He made a noise of ascent in his throat.

“You can celebrate it with me, though, right?” she asked, lacing their fingers together.

Quinn wanted to agree, he really did, but the superstitious part of his mind went to war against it. The result was a kind of half-hearted grimace.

Laughter burst from her. “Fine, fine. You don’t have to talk about it. I’ll just be proud for you,” she said, bringing his hand to her mouth so she could kiss his knuckles.

His stomach did a jerking little jig, and a real smile spread over his face.

Eventually, their conversation turned to her uncle.

“Trav is a sound engineer, and he toured with Brooks & Dunn for a long time. He moved to Vancouver because he said it’s the most beautiful city he’s been to.”

“I would agree with that,” Quinn said.

“Now he stays at home with their kids. Trevor is a copyright lawyer.”

“Oh, your uncle’s gay,” he said with a spark of understanding.

“Is that a problem?” Sarah asked, raising her brows.

“No, of course not. I was just confused. You mentioned Trav and Trev, and I wasn’t sure if I was hearing his name wrong or what.”

When they pulled off the ferry, Sarah turned onto a small two lane road, running away from town. It didn’t look like anything was out here except forest and pebble beaches.

Sarah had an incredible inherent sense of direction - the kind he had to rely on his phone GPS for - so he knew they weren’t lost, but he couldn’t see anything that looked remotely like civilization.

When they turned onto a small driveway tucked right into the woods, drove up a hill, and pulled in front of a home that looked more like a cabin than a house, Quinn wasn’t too shocked.

“What a view,” he said as they got out of the car.

Despite the drizzly weather, the horizon was still stunning. The gray blue water of the Salish Sea seemed to melt into the rolling, gray clouds, making them indistinguishable except where pine covered islands rose out of the water, vibrantly green against all the neutral colors. The city skyline cut a dark, jagged edge across the water. If the commute wasn’t so long, he would live out here, too.

“I know, right?” she said, picking up a tote bag and taking his hand to lead him up to the front door.

“Hey Trav,” she said, embracing him as soon as the door was opened. “Trav, this is Quinn. Quinn, this is my uncle Travis,” she introduced when they broke apart

Other than the fact that he had her same bright blue eyes, her uncle didn’t look anything like he’d expected. Quinn had braced himself to meet a middle-aged man who was around his dads age. Instead, Travis looked no more than ten years older than Sarah. The oldest looking thing about him was his gray hair, which was casually swept back in that effortless way Quinn’s hair could never quite manage. He wore jeans and a green band t-shirt without socks or shoes. His toenails and fingernails were painted various shades of green.

“It's nice to meet you, sir,” Quinn said as they shook hands. If he wasn’t so used to seeing it, he would have missed the way Travis’s eyes widened slightly in recognition.

“Just call me Travis,” he said with a snort, trying to cover his shock. “No one has ever called me, sir in my life. Come on in.”

Trying to catch her eye as they passed, Travis wondered how, when he’d asked if there was anything he should know about this guy she was bringing, Sarah didn’t think the fact that he was Quinn Hughes was something he ought to know. She didn’t notice, and he dropped it before Quinn did.

“Beara!” a little girl yelled as she ran toward them. “Beara! Beara!” She had curly pigtails, each tied with a green bow that flopped as she ran.

“Sawyer!” Sarah caught her before they collided, picking her up and swinging her around. “I missed you,” she said, pulling the little girl against her chest.

Putting her hands on Sarah’s cheeks, she said, “missed you more.”

When she noticed Quinn, she turned her face away from him and put her thumb in her mouth, suddenly shy.

“Sawyer, this is my friend, Quinn,” she said, turning so they could make eye contact.

“Hi, Sawyer,” he said. “I like your ribbons.”

She smiled around her thumb at him. She had those same bright blue eyes, though they were slightly wider than Travis or Sarah’s.

“What do you say to that?” her father coached gently.

“Thank you.” she didn’t take her thumb out of her mouth when she said it, so it was a little garbled, but he got the idea.

Sarah set her down, and she ran back to the kitchen, squealing when Travis chased her down the hallway.

“Beara?” Quinn asked, humor in his eyes as she took his hand, following after them.

“My whole life, my nickname has been Sar Bear. When she was younger, Sawyer had a hard time saying her S’s, so she started calling me Beara instead of Sarah, and it just kind of stuck.”

He snorted, “oh god, the guys are going to have a heyday with that.”

“With what?”

“You know how they call me Huggy Bear sometimes?”

She nodded.

“Huggy Bear and Sar Bear?” He snorted, “I mean, come on.”

The house, while rustic on the outside, was homey on the inside. Neutral gray walls and a modern, light kitchen. It seemed the whole back half of the house was made of glass, giving a perfect view into the misty forest. It was beautiful, but Quinn wasn’t sure he’d want to be here at night to see what came out of those woods.

Sarah was laughing as she entered the kitchen, hand in hand with Quinn. The shock of Quinn Hughes being in his house, of Quinn Hughes dating his niece, who had always been more of a little sister to him, still had him reeling.

Even through that startling revelation, Travis wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her so relaxed and happy since her parents died. The protective part of him held himself back from reading too much into it. The last thing Sarah needed in her life was more heartache.

“Quinn, this is my uncle Trevor.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a little busy,” he said, gesturing to the meat he was fishing out of a marinade. “I hope you like beef stew.”

“Sounds great.”

“And this,” Sarah picked a pudgy little boy up from his high chair, “is Samson.”

Quinn held a hand out to the little boy, who wrapped his tiny fingers around one of Quinn’s as he smiled and babbled. Samson looked more like Trevor. He had dark curly hair, dark eyes, and smooth olive skin. Quinn wondered if each of them had fathered an embryo for a surrogate.

“Can I get you a beer?” Travis asked.

“Sure.”

“We only have Guinness today.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. It’s the Irish way, right?”

Laughing, he handed the can off to Quinn before turning to Sarah. “Hey, can you help me find the barley?”

He knew he was being obvious as he pulled her into the pantry, but he hoped this was a little less obvious than pulling her back into the living room would be. At least he had an excuse for her help this way.

As he shut the door behind them, he heard Quinn ask, “is there anything I can help with?”

Travis clicked the light on. They were standing nearly chest to chest in the tiny room, baby Samson squished between them. He didn’t seem to mind as he continued to babble, reaching out for the brightly colored packages.

“You didn’t tell me you were dating Quinn Hughes!” he hissed.

“You know who he is?”

“Everyone in this entire province knows who Quinn Hughes is, Sarah.”

“I didn’t when we met.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why not?” If she didn’t have a baby in her arms, she would have folded them over her chest.

“You’re too busy learning stuff to pay attention to things like that. He was all over the news for three weeks when they put him in as Captain this fall. Plus, you only care about football.”

“I do not. Well, not anymore, at least,” she said, catching Samson’s hand before he could pull a box of pasta off the shelf. “Anyway, why does it matter that he’s Quinn Hughes?”

“He’s - I mean,” Travis blew a harsh breath out of his nose. “When you said you met at the aquarium, I thought he was some guy who works there, not the captain of the fucking Vancouver Canucks!”

“He's just a guy, Trav. He just happens to play hockey for a living.”

His mouth opened and closed as he seemed to realize he couldn't argue against that point. “He’s a pro athlete, Sarah.”

“So?”

“So, they’re gone all the time, and the money fucks with their heads and pretty soon they’re all cheating on their partners.”

One of her eyebrows arched up, “do you only watch reality TV, or do you sometimes deviate to Lifetime?”

Despite himself, he laughed. “I just mean,” he paused, glancing down at his green fingernails. Sawyer had insisted on painting them and pulled out every shade of green polish in the house, determined to use them all. “I don’t want you to get hurt. He treats you well?”

“Yes. Very well. I wouldn’t keep dating him or bring him to meet you if he didn’t. He's actually the best guy I've ever dated,” she added.

Travis's eyebrows shot into his gray hairline.

“Just spend some time with him. You'll see. He’s really thoughtful and nice.”

“Okay, but I’m having a talk with him by the end of the night.”

“No.”

“Listen, I just need to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

“Don’t you think that’s something I can decide for myself?”

“I’m just going to have a chat with him, man to man. You’re the one that wanted to know what I think of him,” he said. “It's happening whether you like it or not. I'm just letting you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but don’t embarrass me. And none of that asking for permission bullshit. I'm not a possession.”

“Dont insult me,” Travis chided, smiling, loving seeing pieces of his oldest sister in Sarah. He was glad Becky had instilled those same, strong feminist values in her children. “Of course he doesn't need permission. I just care about you.”

“Thanks, Trav,” she said, touched.

He pulled her into a hug, smooshing Samson between them more. He let out a tiny grunt.

“Here, take your baby,” she said, handing him off and grabbing a box of cookies as an alibi as she left.

If Quinn thought anything was suspicious, he didn't let on, continuing to chop the lettuce Trevor had set him to preparing.

“Teddy Graham?” Sarah asked, offering the box as she stood next to him at the long island.

“Sure.”

“Hey Sar, we were thinking about coming into the city for your birthday. I have to be in that day for a few meetings, so Trav was going to bring the kids on the ferry. Do you think that would work? We thought we could take you to dinner.” Trevor said, looking up from braising the beef.

“Yeah, I would like that,” she said with a big smile.

As he walked back into the kitchen, Travis caught Quinn’s wide-eyed expression.

“When’s your birthday?” he asked, tipping the lettuce into a bowl.

“On April third.”

He gulped. It was a gesture Travis immediately recognized as a man grappling for a purchase with new information.

Quinn pulled out his phone and quietly breathed, “we’re in Arizona that day.”

“I know,” Sarah said with a smile that tried but didn’t totally succeed in covering her disappointment.

Something about it made Travis’ hackles rise. Quinn wasn't actively hurting her, but his lifestyle was.

Quinn saved her birthday in her contact card and put his phone back in his pocket. “I guess we’ll celebrate when I get back.”

“That would be nice,” she said with a smile that was genuine this time.

Travis got her a can of Guiness, and she wrinkled her nose. “Can I have whiskey?”

“You hate whiskey.”

“I’d rather it than this tar,” she said, pushing the can back to him. “At least whiskey can be mixed into something palatable.”

“Here here,” Trevor said, laughing.

Travis mimed pulling a knife out of his chest. “You’ve insulted our ancestors, Sarah.”

“Listen, the Irish invented a lot of really great things: boycotts, modern chemistry, the stethoscope, the submarine,” she said, counting them off on her fingers.

Quinn gave her a surprised look.

“I did a presentation on Irish inventions in high school,” she explained, flipping her hands, “the point is, is that their alcohol is not one of them.”

Travis laughed, taking the can for himself. “You want a ginger highball then?”

She beamed, “I think you know the answer to that.”

“What is that?” Quinn asked.

“It’s whiskey and ginger ale. It’s delicious.”

Before other guests arrived, Travis asked Quinn if he'd like to see the vintage shelby Mustang he was restoring.

Quinn agreed and gulped when Trevor asked if Sarah could help him find Sawyer. This was one of those talks. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her uncle out to the garage.

“Listen,” Travis said after they admired the beautiful white car, “Sarah isn't my daughter, but she means a hell of a lot to me, and I want to make sure she’s not going to get hurt. She’s gone through enough heartache already.”

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Quinn licked his lips before responding, “the last thing I want is to cause her more pain. I know she’s been through too much. I don’t know that I can guarantee she’ll never get hurt, but I can say that I would never hurt her intentionally.”

“Do you think your job will get in the way?”

“The travel definitely takes a toll. But I really like Sarah, and I think we have a lot of potential.” Times like these, he was glad for all of his media training. Not that this was anything like a press conference, but they did get him used to thinking fast and answering hard questions.

“She’s not really a model NHL girlfriend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Quinn demanded, barely keeping a glare off of his features.

“Just that most of your lot date models that don’t have normal jobs and aren’t in school,” Travis said, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. That defensiveness answered a lot of his questions.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” he agreed, biting down the urge to correct him. Most of his teammates were married to their high school or college sweethearts. “I like that Sarah has her own stuff and that she’s so independent. Before I met her, I dated a girl like you described, and I was always a little worried about what she was doing while I was on the road. I don't ever get that with Sarah.”

“What do you do on the road?”

“Mostly, I sleep or hang out with the guys. We don't have as much free time as people think.”

Travis was still looking at him appraisingly over the hood of the car. Had he not been exposed to Sarah’s blue, blue eyes, he would have found her uncles stare incredibly intimidating.

“Look, Sir - Travis,” he corrected quickly, “I really -” he stopped himself, not wanting to say that to her uncle first. “I really like Sarah, and we really get along. I know it’s not an ideal thing for me to be on the road during the season, but it seems to be working well so far. I want to be with her, and if she’ll let me, I’d like to be in her life for a long time. I just want to make her happy.”

Travis nodded. “What’s your favorite thing about her?” It was a question his mother-in-law asked him when he met her. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized what a telling question it was.

“She treats me like a normal person,” Quinn admitted. Even though he knew it made him sound conceited, it was his favorite thing about her. She’d never treated him like anything else than a normal guy. “And she’s interesting and easy to talk to and really respectful to people around her.”

“Okay,” Travis said, nodding, glad to see Quinn saw the same things he did. “Okay.” His face split into the natural smile he’d given Sarah when he first opened the door. “I can see why she likes you.”

Despite his attempt to stay cool and collected, Quinn felt a blush splash onto his cheeks as relief relaxed his shoulders.

“I'm not going to say I'll kill you if you hurt her, but just know she has me and Trevor in her corner.”

Quinn smiled, “I get it. I would want to hurt anyone who hurt her, too.”

The dinner party was small - no more than 10 people, and only one of them, their friend’s teenage son, Jace, gawked when he walked in to see Quinn in the kitchen. Quinn took it in stride and talked shop with Jace for a while before dinner was served and he took his seat next to Sarah, who had been watching him with a secret, proud kind of smile on her lips.

Halfway through the night, Travis looked over at them to find Quinn watching her as she talked with someone, with this quiet, infatuated look on his face. A few more of his fears were put to rest.

As he stood at the kitchen sink with his niece, drying the pots and pans she was washing by hand, he leaned closer to her, “I can see what you see in him,” he said, conspiratorially.

“See,” she said, nudging her shoulder into his as she handed him a knife, “I told you.”

“How did you manage going to school from here for a year?” Quinn asked as they pulled onto the ferry for the ride home.

“When I lived with them, they lived in the city. They needed to move into a bigger house when Samson was born. By that time, Trevor was working from home most of the time, and I was okay to live with roommates. So, I moved into the apartment I'm in now, and they moved onto the island.”

He waited until the car was parked before asking, “what do you mean you were okay to live with roommates?”

She pulled in a heavy breath. It was bound to come out eventually. May as well tell him while they had a solid hour and a half boat ride to talk about it.

“After my mom died, I really struggled.”

“Wouldn’t anyone?” Quinn asked.

Sarah pushed the seat back to give her enough room to turn and face him. Her right knee pressed up against the center console. She needed to be looking at him when she said this.

“I mean… I really,” she paused, trying to find the right words. “I remember I flew back to Hawaii a week after the funeral, thinking it was going to be so nice to get back into my routine, but I had this massive gulf in front of me and a literal ocean between me and my family. My roommates were kind of party animals, and they had no idea how to support me, and I had broken up with Kaleo, my boyfriend, before I left because he didn't want anything to do with her funeral or my grief. It felt like no matter where I was, I was just so…alone.”

It felt like someone was reaching down Quinn's throat and wringing his heart.

“I called my sister one day - I think I woke her up, which was really shitty because she had a six month old who was teething.” She laughed a little, but there was too much sadness in it for it to be convincing.

“Anyway, I called her crying because I…I started having these really intense thoughts about killing myself.”

A steep breath stuck in his lungs. He wasn’t totally sure what he thought she would say, but he hadn’t expected that.

“She flew out to be with me, and I moved home two days later. Just packed everything up and left. I didn’t even tell my boss - I was still on FMLA for the funeral, and she had to call me when I didn't show up to work the next Monday.”

“Did you ever…” he trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Attempt?”

He nodded, and Sarah shook her head, “no, but the thought of it was really terrifying. Like, I saw for the first time how someone could get into that headspace where they might take their own life. I just remember ruminating on those thoughts and thinking, ‘I don’t wanna die.’” She pressed the heel of her hand under her eye to catch some of the tears that slipped.

“How did you get out of it?” Perhaps she was just really good at hiding it, but she didn’t seem that depressed in all the time he’d known her.

“I stayed with my sister for the next nine months. I got on some meds and started seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist, and we talked through what was bringing those thoughts up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d already gone through the grief process with my dad, so I knew how awful it was. I never expected to have to go through another big death while I was still single. I thought by the time my mom died, I would have a consistent partner in my life - maybe even a family - and I just kept thinking, ‘I don’t want to do this again.’”

Quinn wanted to go back in time and make it better. Somehow make sure they met before she was in the city so he could be there for her when it all happened.

“Anyway, my psychiatrist told me our brains are basically just big problem solvers. You give it a problem, it wants to fix it. So when I kept telling myself, ‘I don’t want to do this again,’ my brain was just coming up with the swiftest solution for me to not have to do it again. When I changed the way I was thinking about it and started giving myself some more grace, those thoughts lessened a lot.”

God, she was even stronger than he thought.

“Even with all that stuff, I still really wanted to go to grad school, and my therapist and my psychiatrist agreed that it was best for me to have a goal to work toward, even if it meant moving away from home. I was really scared that if I moved out totally on my own, those feelings would come up again, and no one would be around for me to talk to about them, and I might hurt myself. But I couldn't study the ocean in Nevada. My brother actually suggested UBC and living with Travis. I called him to see what he thought. I hadn't even applied, but I didn't want to if I didn't have a plan for when I got in. I pitched that I could be a nanny of sorts when I wasn't in school. They told me they’d love to have me stay with them. I applied and by some miracle was accepted on the first try, and the rest is history,” she said, shrugging.

“Do you…” he paused, not totally sure how best to ask this. “Do you still think about it?”

She shook her head, “not much anymore. Every once in a while, it comes back when a big grief marker comes up, or I get really, really stressed or anxious, but the thoughts are always really fleeting.”

Even though it meant the console was pressing into his stomach, and she was pitched back slightly, Quinn leaned over to gather her against him. “I can’t believe how strong you are.”

“It’s not like I had any other choice.”

“Clearly you did,” he said, reluctantly settling back into his seat.

“I didn’t,” she said, voice quiet but firm. “There was no way I was going to put my family through another death, and like I said, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to not be in pain anymore, and those are very different things.”

“I just think you should be proud of yourself, that’s all.”

“I mean, I am proud that I got out of it, and proud that I know how to ask for what I need now, but being strong in the face of death is just something you have to do. There’s no way out but through.”

“Fine,” he said, repeating her action from earlier and bringing her knuckles to his lips, “I’ll be proud for you.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x oc #qh43 #quinn hughes fan fic #q hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey romance #tw sui ideation #tw sui talk #tw grief #grief #cw sui ideation #sui ideation

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etherealising · 7 months ago

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hey vee! omg i’m so glad you extended your celebration. i’ve been drowning in schoolwork and kinda losing my mind but i totally wanna participate at least once!

ik we’re team barmy in this house but i’m curious to see a drabble on what this day was like from camry’s perspective.

that day baby came to work and he was on a date with claire. how did he bring himself to even go especially after their previous night together. (ik this may be a lil agnsty, i’ve been loving that kind of stuff lately) 💞💞

stawph!!! this request excites me every time i read it and idk why lol. i love writing pre-aiekoy barby it's so much fun to just invent a bunch of lore!!

thank you so much for requesting!!! i see you in my inbox bestie and i promise i’ll get back to you love!! also your constant support really is one of the reasons i keep posting so thank you so much for indulging me 🫶🏽

After baby leaves the berzatto household carmy literally has zero clue what to do with himself, like man is just staring at his bedroom door 30 minutes later trying to figure out if what just happened was real or just his imagination.

He definitely brushes his fingers across his lips a couple of times, tingles racing through his body every time he thinks about your lips on his.

Carmy goes to sleep happy that night his mind full of visions of you as he finally lays his head to rest.

Sunday rolls around and he’s feeling a bit anxious that neither of you have seen or spoken to each other since that night.

Carmy is freaking out like it genuinely hasn’t even been a full 24 hrs since the moment the two of you shared and he’s sure he scared you off. Maybe you just kissed him back because you felt sorry for him man is running through all the worst scenarios in his head.

He’s definitely picked up the phone to call you and typed out messages but was too scared to do either one in fear of rejection or worse in fear of ruining your already rocky friendship.

At some point, he just relegates himself to finishing some English final essay to keep his mind off of you (it obviously doesn’t work).

It’s getting later as the day passes by and Carmy’s just staring at the few words in the notebook and the eraser marks decorating the page.

The sound of his phone vibrating against the table pulls him from his thoughts and that boy is racing from his seat to answer it, no hesitation no checking the caller ID nothing.

He answers breathlessly and calls your name with a smile on his face because who else would be calling him?

The devastation radiates off of him as Claire’s voice rings into his ears. He gives her an uninterested “Oh, hi.” Mans is not happy at all but he was raised right so he indulges her.

Carmy zones out as soon as he realizes it’s not you, moving through the living room to peek through the curtains at your house, your car is still in the driveway so you must be home, maybe he can go see you after this phone call.

Claire’s voice drifts through his ears asking where he’s at and homeboy is confused most of his focus going to how he’s gonna get his girl who isn’t yet his girl.

And then he remembers before his moment with you, before he knew what it felt like to feel the soft caress of your lips, the weight of your body in his lap. Claire asked him to lunch and he said yes!

He stumbles over his words, he can easily tell Claire that he’s not interested, that there’s someone else. But only an asshole would do something like that over the phone. So with one last look at your car, he decides he’ll meet up with Claire, let her down easy, and then you and him can figure out what this is between the two of you.

Carmy uses the back entrance not wanting to engage with any of the many people crowded in line at the front of the shop, easily finding Claire alone at a table a sigh of relief escaping him that she hadn’t chosen yours and his special table.

It’s awkward for the first few minutes after he sits down. He promised himself he’d start by admitting to Claire that he thought she was nice and pretty even, but that he realized he was in love with someone else.

Claire breaks the ice before he can even get his little speech out, maybe he’ll wait till the end of this little hangout maybe that would save the awkwardness of having to eat with someone you admitted you didn’t have feelings for.

Somehow the two of them go from awkward conversation to joking around about the previous night at prom.

Carmy’s back is to the entrance so he doesn’t take notice of your presence but he watches as Claire’s eyes drift from his face her eyes lighting up hand waving with gusto as she says your name.

Carmy doesn’t even need to turn around to see you, a heavy weight growing at the bottom of his stomach, but he does anyway and the way you avoid his eyes is enough proof that this whole situation upset you.

He doesn’t even give Claire a second thought before he’s out of his seat trying to find you, the muffled cries leaving the walk-in lead him straight to you, and he can’t help the annoyance that builds up in him at hearing Mikey’s voice.

His older brother, always there to save the fucking day. He stays a bit longer just listening to you sob and he knows he was the cause of your anguish.

Carm returns to Claire and apologizes for leaving and he doesn’t explain anything but he can see the sadness in her eyes as a silent conversation passes between the two of them her eyes watering with her hurt and realization.

Claire was kind enough to offer him a ride home, but Carmy decided to walk home, he didn’t know how he could live with the weight of making two girls cry in one day.

On the tedious walk home, Carmy comes to the decision that it’s best if he just lets you believe what you want. You’ll be gone soon and there’s no point in clearing anything up, no point in putting his feelings about you into words if the two of you will be apart soon.

So he self-sabotages allows you to think he’s the bad guy (i mean he kinda is lol) doesn’t clear up what you think you saw, and doesn’t address the kiss and intimate moment he initiated.

And as the days tick down to your departure he watches you grow closer to Hayden, ignoring Claire’s questioning looks as she tries to understand why you and Carmy aren’t together yet.

The time comes for your departure and he’s built up some false confidence about telling you the truth about everything but he chokes. Wishes you luck in college and mutters promises about keeping in touch, promises he knows are a lie as soon as he speaks them because he doesn’t think he could pretend to be happy for you knowing his own happiness lies with you.

a/n: gosh do i love making these two suffer, there’s some tidbits in here that i might expand on in a carmy interlude i have planned but only time will tell. enjoy!

#etherealising’s 1k celebration #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy the bear x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #fem!reader #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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sociallyrepressed · 4 months ago

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I’ve finally calmed down enough from Hungary ‘24 to give my two cents

(tw for absolute UNITS of blocks of text)

I feel like people forget that racing is a selfish sport at its core: there is only one winner. Formula 1 adds in the component of the Constructors, which means that drivers do have to somewhat work with their teammate, but in cases like Sunday (McLaren was pretty much guaranteed a 1-2 win) it really is down to the driver. I bring this up to say that the drivers are, at their core, also selfish (when it comes to racing at the very least). The MOMENT they pit Lando first and practically put him in the lead they should have realized what a struggle it would have been to switch back. He’s second in the Drivers Championship and pretty much every point matters. They should have pit Oscar first since he was leading the race and Lewis was far enough behind that Lando would have been fine. Instead, they left an opening for Lando to win and his pace those last laps was really good. At that point, they should have just let him finish p1 because what they ended up doing was humiliating and unfair to both drivers. And Lando definitely played some part in that, too, but again, he’s a racer, he’s going to gun it for first no matter what. Oscar earned that win all on his own merit from the get-go, and I’m so so happy and proud for him. It is unfortunate that McLaren fucked the strategy and it’s pathetic that they made him feel like he had to apologize for his maiden win.

Continuing on this last point, I was disappointed to see the podium celebration and Lando blowing past him, but I won’t speak on it too much because I don’t want. I just wanted to bring it up because a lot of people have strong emotions about it. The podium celebration and the cool-down room are such hot topics in regards to Lando’s behavior. I don’t want to justify his decisions by comparing him to others, but I’m going to anyways. I’m going to bring up Mad Max first because a lot of fans have a love hate relationship with him. We saw a glimpse of him on radio today and people loved it (some people didn’t, but not the point), and many fans are begging for the resurgence of Mad Max. I personally feel like Mad Max is even worse than the behavior in the cool down room, and people seem to be latching onto that. He’s very upset and being borderline rude, I’m not going downplay that, but he still congratulated Oscar and they acted like typical Landoscar while waiting to be interviewed post-race. So, other than the champagne spray on the podium (which could have been chalked up to him making sure he didn’t make Oscar drop the trophy or if he intentionally avoided spraying him, we won’t know since we’re not Lando) he’s been supportive.

Fans like to remind Lando that he’s not anywhere close to being on the same level of the greats such as Lewis, Max, and Sebastian. I will admit that I’m a newer fan and may not understand the intricacies of their relationship with the sport and teammates, but I’m pretty sure none of them would have been open to giving up p1 even if they only got the lead due to their team’s mistakes. Especially if they were second in the wdc. I would also like to bring up the Aston Martin thing. A good example of selfish drivers. Fernando allowed Lance to pass him with the promise that if he couldn’t overtake, then the position would be returned to him. Surprise surprise, Lance didn’t return it. If a driver didn’t return a position so that he could have a one-point finish, how do you expect a driver to react to returning a position that gives up a win. Probably wouldn’t expect him to give it back.

Anyways, I think McLaren lucked out with their driver lineup and the fact they respect each other so much. I think they got complacent after seeing how well Lando and Oscar get along that they forgot about how selfish drivers can be. Especially Lando, since he’s been with them since his start and he’s turned down other interested teams. He and Oscar have done so much for that team.

I’ve got more thoughts but I’m going to keep them to myself for now. Since both drivers have got a taste of winning, I’m excited to see what Spa brings.

And congrats to Oscar Piastri, a freaking Grand Prix winner !!!!

#oscar piastri #lando norris #landoscar #mclaren #so actually fuck McLaren #also landoscar will definitely be fine because they’re besties #it’s not their relationship with each other I’m worried about #it’s their future relationship with McLaren

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artzee-bee · 2 years ago

Text

Forever my love | Adrien Agreste x reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Requested by @oyasumimosura

Summary: friends to strangers to lovers with a no-so-happy ending

Genre: some fluff, angst

Warnings: canon typical violence (maybe tuned up a notch tho), death

A/N: my google doc for this piece is 10 pages long and it’s went through at least 4 alternate endings before getting here. I got this request months ago and have been working on it since, whenever I can. I hope this is alright because it’s been a journey...

~~~

There was no ‘first memory’ with you. Not one that would come to Adrien’s mind anyways. It felt like you had simply always been in his life. The only thing he remembered was you and your mother, entering the Agreste mansion as if it was your own, almost every Sunday. His mom would welcome both of you with wide arms and offer you tea, and biscuits, which you would snuck to Adrien’s room. Your favorite have always been the ones with strawberry jam filling.

And then you’d play for hours! Building fortresses out of chairs and pillows, racing toy cars around the room, saving plush animals from the imminent danger of Adrien’s rocketship and so on. Not a single moment spent with you felt boring! Your presence was addictive, the joy, the excitement you brought with yourself every time was something Adrien couldn’t understand at the time but now, as an adult looking back, he could easily recognise it as love.

But the world has its own way of never quite letting you be happy enough. The memory of your last playdate, as well as the day his parents told him you were moving away, were very hazy and unclear. For years he refused to revisit them, the sorrow too great for his young, immature self to know how to handle. Now, there was only one sentence he could remember you saying, clear as day. One promise that gave him more hope than he could put in words. “We’ll keep in touch”.

You exchanged letters the whole time you were away!! Of course, they could never be a substitute for the time spent together but Adrien learned to appreciate them deeply. He took his time responding to each of them and always nervously awaited your response. Years went on like that! Every summer you’d promise to visit and every time Adrien would have the displeasure of having to read, in your flawless and delicate handwriting, that your parents canceled the trip for whatever reason.

Eventually, he decided it was best to move on. In the time you had been gone many things changed: he grew up, got big in the fashion industry, started school, became the new black cat miraculous holder, made friends! His life became overwhelmingly busy and the precious memories you made together faded away without notice. He found joy in other things and in his new friends! Your letters no longer brought the excitement they once did and consequently, he always postponed replying until eventually, it all stopped.

Much to Adrien��s shock, almost exactly a year after losing contact, he saw you! He had been transformed at the time, having just finished defeating an akuma when he saw you exiting a coffee shop down the street. He couldn’t believe his eyes and had it not been for the alarming beeping of his miraculous, he probably would have stayed petrified on top of that roof much longer. Once detransformed, he tried to go looking for you but to no avail.

It wasn’t until a week later that he finally got to talk to you again. Natalie reached out to your family and arranged for you two to meet. That Friday afternoon, you had lunch at a pizza place that you didn’t recognise. He looked the same. Same innocent glimmer in his eyes and ecstatic voice. It almost weirded you out how much it seemed this boy never changed. But of course, you weren’t right. Many things have changed.

Adrien tried his best to be open and friendly. To him, it felt like no time had passed at all, but you were so quiet and shy. A subtle frown was visible on your face from the moment you arrived and you barely looked him in the eyes. The air around you felt thick with discomfort, which was extremely frustrating to Adrien. He wanted to ask what’s wrong but found it so difficult to speak his mind until, eventually, you opened up yourself.

“Why did you stop writing?” your voice didn’t betray any feeling of anger or sadness and yet, Adrien was instantly washed over with guilt

“I’m sorry. I wanted to but…”

“Was I not worth it?”

“What?” Adrien couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you were just as still and cold as before

“Because, you see, when we were kids you were one of the most important people in my life. You were my best friend and I honestly thought we would never ever be apart! No one could ever break us up! And I put everything I had into not losing that, convinced that you’d do the same for me! Because your friendship was worth more to me than any number of kilometers between us!” your words fell out quickly and stung him “Was I not worth fighting for, Adrien?”

He didn’t know what to say! He wanted to tell you he was just stupid and made a grave mistake. That you were more than worth it, but the words were stuck in his throat.

You didn’t speak after that. Adrien was heartbroken but figured you were already so mad at him, it would only make it worse if he kept pestering you on.

Eventually, one night, after patrol, he saw you! It was already way after dark and you were just strolling down the street all alone. A sense of anxiety overtook him and he knew he couldn’t go home just yet

“Good evening pretty lady!” he greeted you, full of glee. “The streets can get pretty nasty this late at night, y’know? Hope you don’t mind if this street cat walks alongside you for a while.”

“Hello Chat Noir!” your voice was so smooth and warm “ I’d really love that. I was actually quite uncomfortable walking alone.” “Well then, fear not!The bravest and strongest hero in all of Paris is right here at your service! Did I also mention the most charming?” you giggled to his silliness

Adrien was ecstatic to get to talk to you again, like old times. He finally felt like he got his friend back! He didn’t even realize how big of a hole your absence had left in his life. After that night, he would accompany you everyday on your evening walks and, soon enough, you began hanging out at your house. Oftentimes he would knock on your bedroom window shortly after you got home from school and more often than not, he would spend hours at your place. You did almost everything together from playing video games to watching movies, cooking, gossiping. He would tell you all the fun stories he had with Ladybug from their patrols and would blush a little when you began laughing uncontrollably. It was just too cute.

With all this joy, still there was an ounce of pain at the idea that you didn’t know who you were really talking to. Almost every time you called him Chat, his heart would sting a little. He liked being Chat Noir. He loved it even. With you however, it just felt like one big lie he could do nothing about. He wanted you to look at him and see the boy from all those years ago. To look at him and call him by his name. To rejoice in old memories, instead of him having to pretend he hears the story for the first time. Adrien couldn’t help but feel like he was betraying you by simply being here, knowing how mad you were with his civilian self. When those thoughts got to him, he felt more alone than ever, but you almost always picked up on it

“What’s wrong?” you would ask and the sweetness of your voice ran like ice down his body. You would not be this kind if you knew

“Absolutely nothing, I am doing wonderful” he’d say through gritted teeth

“Sit down and talk to me!”

“I can’t. It’s personal” which you knew really meant “It would put my identity in danger”

So you would shut up. You’d make tea or let him have the last cookie as a sign of solidarity. To let him know you still cared. Sometimes he would ask you for hugs, which you would indulge him in. You’d wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight to your chest, trying to convey all the love and care you had for him in that one gesture. Almost always, the hero would melt into your embrace as if he’d never been held before. His head would rest on your shoulder and his blonde locks tickled your neck and cheek.

Confessing to you was the biggest risk he ever took, which meant a lot considering his occupation. It happened after yet another game of cards lost by Chat. It had been what felt like his 15th loss of the night and in a futile attempt to protect his remaining dignity, he slipped

“You’re only winning cause I love you too much to let you lose!” the cocky attitude dropped instantly as he processed his choice of words. You were just looking at him, a little quizzingly, unsure if you heard him right.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do”

The brightest smile overtook your features instantly “Good. I love you too!”

It was difficult for a long time. The secret identity issue became even greater with the new level of intimacy that was expected with the start of a romantic relationship. On top of that, Adrien was pretty clueless. You were his first girlfriend, the first girl he ever fell in love with, the pressure was high. He wanted to be the best boyfriend there was! He brought you many gifts, big and small. He spent as much time with you as he could, he always told you just how much you actually meant to him. The blush on your cheeks and the witty comebacks made him melt through his seat every time and with every happy memory he made with you came the unmistakable pain of never really being completely honest with you. On one of your sleepovers, the feelings were overwhelming Chat more than he thought was possible

“What’s going on Chat?”

“Nothing darling. Just tired”

“Come on, you know you can’t fool me! You’ve been quiet all night, it’s really unlike you”

Adrien’s mind went empty when you sat on the floor in front of him, lightly running your fingers over his leather clad ones. The trust and love in your eyes was so mesmerizing. No one had ever looked at him like that and for a split second he imagined your reaction if you knew who he was. He wondered if you’d kick him out. Break up with him here and now and never want anything to do with him ever again. He imagined the anger in your voice, the betrayal. And then, he considered, briefly, a different option. A scenario in which you’d hug him tight and kiss the top of his head, and there’d be no more lies. No more secrets, no more of these impossible feelings that were tormenting him. That smile, that bliss, engulfed his mind and he felt powerless in the face of hope.

“I’m sorry” he said weakly

“For what?” and before he could think for another second, talk himself out or consider the consequences of his actions, he did the only thing he felt was logical

“Plagg, claws in”

When the green light vanished and Adrien found himself back in his normal clothes, he didn’t muster to look at your face

“Chat, what are you doing?” finally, he glanced up, only to find you curled up on the ground, with your hands over your eyes. You hadn’t seen him

“It’s ok.”

“You detransformed?”

“Yes…”

“Chat you can’t do that.”

“I want you to see me” he tried to sound confident, but it came out almost as a plea.

“What about Ladybug?”

“I’ll deal with her later. It’s ok. I swear”

“Chat…”

“Please”

Adriean reached out to pull your hands away from your face, but your eyes were still closed

“Chat?”

“Yes?”

“Before I look, I want you to know that I love you regardless of who you are. If you’re doing this because you think I can’t love you fully without knowing your identity, if you’re doing this for me, please know that this won’t change anything. I want you to be comfortable with this, ok?” Adrien blushed, feeling tears well up in his eyes

“I want to do this” he kissed your knuckles “if that’s ok with you”

Slowly, you opened your eyes and Adrien felt his heart beating out of his chest. Your face went soft and your eyes welled up with tears and you looked at eachother. You couldn’t muster a word and neither could he. He took this as you being disappointed and let go of your hand, only for you to grab it once more, much harder than before. Finally, tears came rolling down your cheeks, as you whispered a simple “I love you”

That night, neither of you could stop crying. The liberation of all secrets and all lies felt divine and finally, Adrien felt like he was 100% safe for the first time in his life.

Many things changed after that. Adrien got a serious scolding from Ladybug, since he couldn’t lie to her about what he’s done. She wasn’t as mad as he expected her to be, so in the end it was all worth it when you began showing up to the Agreste mansion to hang out. It was hard for Adrien to find time to spend with her during the day but Natalie was always so understanding of their relationship and tried her best to squeeze in an hour or two here and there for you! Now, Adrien could hold your hand and take you to his photoshoots. You facetimed more often and it finally felt like you got the relationship you were always meant to have.

~~~

Paris looked beautiful from the top of the Eiffel tower. Chat took you here many times before. It felt so romantic being up there with your best friend, the boy of your dreams! You felt so powerful looking down at all the lights and cars passing by and at the same time so protected by his tight grip around your waist. Nothing could hurt you if he was there, with or without the costume! But the arms holding you now were much slimmer and much less concerned with your safety. You knew you shouldn’t look down from the edge you were standing on but it was so hard not to. Lila was manic next to you, laughing and shouting about her imminent victory, taunting the two superheroes that were struggling to catch up.The tiny robots Lila could control with her powers had kept Ladybug and Chat Noir busy for just enough time to allow the akumatized girl to take you with her, away from the scene and up here.

“Be careful with what you do next Ladybug, otherwise the girl gets it!” the taunting manner in which she spoke felt hardly like Lila. You never found her to be a particularly pleasant person to be around but the malice with which she spoke now was so unusual!

She kicked your shin, making one of your legs drop off the edge. Had it not been for her holding onto your forearm, you would have dropped. You could see Ladybug and Chat approaching but they were so far away and it felt like they were moving so slowly. A cry ripped through your chest as you hung there, your life in the hands of this girl you couldn’t even recognise anymore.You were trying to pull yourself back on the ledge with your other foot before she kicked that one too, swinging you in the air by your arm.

“Oh oh, but you’re so far away little Bug? Whatever are you gonna do if my hand …slips?” she let go with a chuckle.

Chat couldn’t see anything around him anymore, all he saw was your helpless body falling from the sky! He screamed your name but he was still so far! Ladybug threw her yoyo, trying to form a net below you, but the speed at which you were falling was much greater than anybody expected. You fell right through the net, breaking it to pieces and hit the ground with a hard thud. Chat screamed, Ladybug was speechless, all the while Lila was laughing on her way down!

“Chat, get her! I’ll handle Lila!”

That’s all it took. Chat was looking down at your unconscious form before he knew it. You were so bloody and so limp in his arms.

“Don’t!” you whispered when he tried to pick you up

“It’s not safe for you here, I need to hide you away!” he almost screamed, too relieved to see you alive to be able to control himself

“It’s over Chat!”

“Don’t talk like that! You will be ok! I will make you ok!”

“I’m tired…”

“No, don’t do it! Focus on me, focus on my voice! Can you see me?”

“You have to protect the people…”

“You are the only one I have to protect! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to catch you, I’m sorry! Please! Please let me protect you!” tears were streaming down his face and he found himself thinking that he would sell his soul to switch places with you

“Chat, I love you” you said through your own tears

“Don’t say goodbye!”

“I’m not”

“I love you Y/N! I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone! I can still save you!” he laid his head on your chest, not believing his own words

“I’ll always love you Adrian!” you whispered in his ear, kissing his temple with the last of your powers

~~~

“You need to hurry up, Adrian needs to be at a press conference across town in one hour and we’re already behind schedule because of you!”

“Nathalie, stop that! Everyone is doing their best here.”

“This photoshoot was supposed to be over already!”

“Maybe you should go have some water while you wait, yeah?” Adrien was trying to be nice but he felt really bad about the way Nathalie was speaking to the makeup artist. He knew they were very busy and Nath was under a great deal of stress but still, he felt it wasn’t fair to the girls working hard to get him ready.

“I’m sorry about that! She’s a lovely person, it’s just the last couple of days have been really hard for her”

“Oh, it’s alright, sir. Trust me I’ve seen much worse before” the young girl replied “Plus, I would imagine that making the switch to become a full time model would bring on a lot more responsibilities on her side.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Adrien chuckled. “If you would have told me last year, when I was still in school, that my schedule would be even more packed as a graduate, I would have probably given up modeling then and there. Now I just deal with it.”

Adrien observed himself in the mirror, thinking back to his high school days. He tried to remember what he looked like, although that was very difficult. He knew his hair was much longer now, reaching just below his chin. He thought his face was a bit slimmer and many people told him he put on a healthy amount of muscle in the last couple of months, but he was still himself, just 20.

“If you don’t mind sir, we need the first couple of buttons of your shirt undone for the next set. I will add a little contour to the collarbones and then we’re done”

Said and done, with the first few buttons open he looked even more manly than before.

“Um, I think we should take the necklace off if you don’t mind…”

Eyes shot down to his chest, where a tiny silver ring on a chain hung, barely glistening in the lights around.

“Yes, that’s alright” he said, although he never liked taking it off. There was always a worry in the back of his hand about misplacing it or something and the thought was simply unbearable, but he understood.

“That’s a very beautiful piece of jewelry”

“Thank you!” he looked down at the ring twirling it between his fingers. It was so simple, he wasn’t used to receiving compliments on it, even from the select few that got to see it. A simple golden band with a round diamond in the middle. It was so small for him, he could never get it more than halfway down his ring finger. “It belonged to somebody I cared a lot about.” He remembered how hard he worked to get your ring size, all those years ago. It was difficult to do it behind your back, since you had always been so good at reading his body language, you always knew when he was up to something. He remembered all those nights spent on the internet, looking for the perfect ring for you! He knew it needed to be simple but sometimes it was so hard to talk himself out of buying one of the big and glamorous ones. He just wanted to spoil you rotten and if he didn’t take the chance to do that when he was buying your engagement ring, then when would he? Finally, after weeks, he finally found this one and fell in love. It was perfect for you and you were gonna love it. The day it arrived was one of the most exciting times he experienced in the last decade, he could still feel his heart pumping now, at the memory.

“They can’t wear it anymore so I just keep it!” in fact, you had never even gotten the chance to try it on, but those details don’t need to be shared. Still, thinking about the incident, taking place only 2 weeks after he got the ring, hurts him to no end. He was planning the perfect engagement, a grand romantic gesture to make all your dreams come true but now he felt sorrow and regret, wishing he would have simply ran to your door the same day that package was delivered to ask you. At least then you would have known, you would have had the chance to say yes.

“I’m sure they were an incredible person” Adrien only nodded to that “Well, you’re all done, you can head to the set now”

“Thank you, I’ll just drop this off to Nathalie and go”

The pain of not having you around would never go away, Adian had accepted that as a fact! You would always be there for any anniversary or birthday, achievement or simply on lazy days when his mind would wonder. Nothing made the sting of not being able to hold your hand go away but at least the ring, your ring, would comfort him in those moments.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb fanfic #mlb x reader #mlb headcanons #adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #adrien agreste imagine #adrien agreste angst #adrien agreste headcanons #adrien agreste fluff #chat noir #chat noir imagine #chat noir x reader #chat noir angst #chat noir fluff

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sargeantposting · 8 months ago

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A little earlier in the F2 season, we caught up with Williams Racing Academy Driver Logan Sargeant.

Wanting to get to know him just a little bit better, and with a big date in Austin now on the horizon, we tasked him with answering 22 questions about racing and life in general.

Here’s what he had to say…

What race day rituals do you have?

If weekends are going well, I tend to stick with the same underwear for each day. Before you worry, they’re different pairs! I have a Friday, Saturday, Sunday set. But if it’s not going well, I have to make a change!

What's your go-to coffee order?

Latte, but it's a double espresso before quali.

What's the inspiration behind your racing number?

This year it’s six because I can’t choose in F2, but when I am allowed to pick, it would be No3. Three for Dale Earnhardt, an all-out American hero.

Your favourite drink?

I’ve only just turned 21… but it’s water, of course.

If you had to cook one main course to impress a loved one, what would it be?

Oooo… I’m not much of a cook, but I can tell you what I would order in! I love a good prime rib.

What’s your favourite film?

Love the Jump Streets, but I’ve got a lot of time for Step Brothers. But if I had to choose out of the two, I’d go Jump Streets. I suppose I have to choose which one?! But 21 and 22 are both pretty good. Ah, I can’t decide.

Who is the toughest rival you've come up against so far?

It’s got to be the battle in Formula 3 between myself and Oscar Piastri.

Your favourite cheat meal?

Fortunately I have a quick metabolism, so they come relatively often… my American roots mean it would have to be a nice, juicy burger.

How many attempts did it take to pass your driving test?

Just one, which is apparently pretty rare for racing drivers! That’s including the practical and the theory.

Which track are you most looking forward to in 2022?

It’s got to be Monaco, but I’m looking forward to seeing the F1 team in Miami.

You can choose one song only to listen to before a race, what is it?

Lose Yourself - Eminem.

Is there one circuit not on your calendar that you'd love to race at?

Obviously it’s either Miami or Austin; to have a home race would be amazing. That said, I’d love to race at Suzuka some day.

Who is your favourite sports team outside of F1?

Anything Miami! We’re talking Heat, Dolphins, Marlins, Inter Miami… they’ve all got my support.

Least favourite exercise your trainer set for you in the offseason?

I’d say it’s got to be all the extra cardio I had to do to get ready for F2.

What's a better feeling, nailing a quali lap or executing a late overtake?

I saw what Nicky and Alex said to this answer and I have to agree. Nailing a quali lap all day long. It’s my favourite part of a weekend, I love putting it all on the line.

Is there anyone you idolised when growing up?

In racing, my first hero when I was a kid was, funnily enough, Jeff Gordon. I just loved watching him and the way he fought on track.

Favourite sport that's not F1?

At the moment, I’d have to say NFL. But it switches between that and the NBA.

If you could invite anyone in the world to a dinner party, which three people would you choose and why?

I would invite Leo DiCaprio, I feel he’s kind of cool. Then let’s also invite Margot Robbie and Brad Pitt. Let’s make it an A-List movie night!

What is your favourite Grand Prix?

Well, I could be biased and say Austin. I mean, how can you argue against 450,000 fans across the three days last year? That was pretty awesome. But I’ve got to say I love Silverstone as well.

What's been your favourite moment of your career so far?

My rookie race in Macau where I finished third. Definitely, 100%, hands down my favourite track in the world.

One word to describe how you're feeling about the 2022 season?

Confident.

One word that best describes Williams Racing to you?

Supportive.

#logan sargeant #format:clips #year:2022

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hey-kae · 1 year ago

Note

I saw you like mbappe and he was invited by Ferrari today so maybe reader is dating charles but she’s a fan of kylian and she gets to meet him in the hospitality so charles gets jealous and upset?

Could be smut or not. I’ll leave this up to you. Thanks.

a/n: combining these two so if you don’t like mbappe, just skip the first part ig. (this is smut btw)

Mid-race, you were just a mere snap of a finger from just shouting at the screen in the hospitality out of pure frustration. You were sat alone among the crowd of people, all eyes focused on the various televisions on the room’s walls. No one was ecstatic about the on-track action but you were on a whole different level of pissed as your boyfriend had yet another bad race.

Usually, if you were watching alone, you’d be cursing out everything and everybody, but you couldn’t exactly do that here.

“Bordel de merde, quelle connerie...” For fuck’s sake, this is bullshit... You mumbled under your breath. At least most people here didn’t speak french.

Or so you thought.

“Eh, c’est pas trop gentil ça.” Hey, that’s not very nice. Someone laughed from behind you.

“Shit.” You panicked and turned around.

“Oh, Shit.” You cursed as you realized who was behind you.

“Vous supportez qui?” Who are you supporting? Kylian Mbappé, literally one of the most famous football players, casually asked, still smiling at what he heard you say as you tried to find a will and a way to answer him.

“Um…” You swallowed and looked around, “My boyfriend, Charles. I thought there wasn’t anyone who spoke french around me and- Yeah.” You prevented yourself from rambling.

“Je l’ai rencontré avant, depuis quelques années. C’était a Monaco.” I’ve met him before, a few years ago. In Monaco.

You shook your heard, “So you probably met him at a wrong time, if you met him at a Monaco GP. Well, probably. Ça dépend à quel temps du Dimanche vous l’avez rencontré, vraiment.” It depends what time of Sunday you met him.

Kylian frowned and laughed, “What?”

“Long story. Un chef-d’oeuvre.” A masterpiece.

“I’ve got time.”

And that’s how you spend half of the race with your favorite footballer, inconspicuous to the picture snapped of the conversation and posted onto Twitter.

When the race was over, you said goodbye to your one-off company and waited for Charles in his driver’s room.

After he finished his interviews, he joined you, looking a perfect mix of disappointed and pissed.

You walked up to him to give him a hug and a kiss, but he gave you a furious look that stopped you in your track.

“Moi je souffre dans la course et toi, tu flirtes avec Mbappé, ouais? Très sympas!” I’m suffering in the race and you’re flirting with Mbappé? Really nice! He was trying not to shout, he really was and you could hear it.

“Charles, what? I was-”

“Save it. I’ll know what to do about this when i’m done with the debrief, when we’re alone. Now, sit here and wait for me. You’re not going anywhere alone.” He huffed, patted your shoulder, changed out of his race suit into normal clothes and left you alone in the room.

It felt like it was forever later when he came back to get you. Charles opened the door and stood by it, gesturing for you to walk in front of him. Not a single word left his mouth, not even on the way to the hotel. He was absolutely fuming.

But the minute the door to your room shut behind the two of you, things changed.

“I finish a fucking awful race and the first fucking thing i see on my phone is my girlfriend giving fuck-me eyes to some footballer. You’re really good at this romance shit, chérie.” He gave a mocking smile.

“If you would let me-“

“I told you i don’t wanna hear it! Des excuses de ta part, des excuses de la part de l’équipe. Tu sais quoi?” Excuses from you, excuses from the team. You know what? He pushed you against the wall, his face dangerously close to yours, “Je m’en fiche.” I don’t care anymore.

“Charles, i-“

“Shh, baby.” His hand was on your cheek, his thumb on your lips, shushing you, “À genoux.” On your knees.

You sighed and got on your knees, looking up at him.

“Don’t give me those eyes. Tu sais bien quoi faire.” You know what to do. He gestured for you to hurry up.

You undid his belt and pulled down his pants and boxer and he stepped out of them. With your hand, you pumped his cock until it was completely hard and throbbing.

“Okay, now ouvre.” …open. He gatherer your hair in his hand and pulled back your head a little, your mouth open for him to push himself against your tongue until you felt him in the back of your throat and heard him grunt at the warmth as you gagged around him.

“Exactly. Reminds you that you shouldn’t be using this mouth for flirting with some french guy when at the end of the day, you’re gonna let me fuck it.”

His grip on your hair was tight enough that you had remotely no control over the movements. He needed to control at least that today, and it wasn’t like you were objecting.

He thrusted into your mouth repeatedly, moaning as he did so, making the heat pool between your legs rapidly.

He kept that going until he felt himself right on the edge then he instructed you to get up.

Charles didn’t even bother with the bedroom. There was a couch by your sides and it was perfectly suited for his intentions.

Kissing you, he pushed you back a little, taking the opportunity to pull off your clothes as well, then he turned you around and patted the back of the couch.

“Bend over.” His hand gave you a soft push, prompting you do oblige, and you did.

He stared down at your glistening pussy, tracing his finger teasingly between the folds.

“So wet, fuck… And all mine.” He spoke the last part sternly and pushed into you without any further warning.

“Oh God, Charles.” You gasped.

“That’s right. No one else can fuck you so good. He can’t fuck you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, “Says who? You should’ve let me try.”

Abruptly, he pulled you up so your back was to his chest, “Don’t fucking test me, i swear to god, chérie.”

You nodded and he let you go, thrusting into you with an exhilarating pace, making your hands fist the couch cushions.

“Tell me you’re mine.” Charles requested.

“I’m yours. Fuck, Charles.” You moaned, “I’m only yours.”

His fingers dug into the skin of your waist and he continued moving, maintaining his rhythm, rubbing your clit as well, feeling the way you kept clenching around his cock until you came, shaking under him just before his release followed, the room filling with curse words of various languages.

Barely a few breaths were taken before he pulled out and hoisted you up, carrying you into the shower.

“Fucking horrible day.” He mumbled as he walked with you in his arms.

“Sorry about the race, baby.” You kissed his neck.

“You leave the race alone. You have something else to be sorry for.” He rolled his eyes.

“You don’t trust me? He wasn’t flirting with me i swear. We actually talked about you most of the time!”

He set you down in the shower, fixed the water and joined you under the hot stream, his arms wrapping around you, bringing you closer to him as he whispered to you, “I do trust you, but i still get jealous.”

a/n: thanks for requesting🫶🏻

#cl16 #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x reader

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writingshushf1 · 2 years ago

Text

Wildest dreams

Summary: Lewis Hamilton was screwed. He realised that he fell in love with his best friend, the one where he promised he wouldn’t do it, especially in the condition they were in.

Rating: +16

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.3

Notes: this is the first fic of a series that is inspired by @mignonricciardo “formula one drivers as romance tropes' so the credit of the original idea goes to her! ofc, i changed some bits because i refuse to remember ad 2021

masterlist

2022

The car was shit. W13 let it down since the moment they tested it for the first time and he wasn’t happy. He tried to let it all go after 2021, to think positive and be back at competing with his team - but no, the universe was playing a joke on him. And to top it off, gossip about him was going all around it, like he was a prey, waiting to be eaten alive. His PR executive bolted inside the room while he was doing a physical therapy session with Angela, his back was killing him.

“Not now, Mimi…” He murmured, trying to turn up the music, but she put a hand on top of him.

“I think it’s the time. You need a relationship to make the vultures talk about anything else.”

“What? But I’m not seeing anyone…” He raised his head, scrunching up his nose.

“Well, it can be a fake relationship! Just need a contract, a really good one, some lawyers and boom! New girlfriend in less than two weeks.” She was restlessly typing on her phone.

He sighed loudly, stopping his exercise and sat down, passing his hands on his thighs. “Fine.” Angela looked a bit sceptical towards him. “With one condition.”

“Only one? I can see that you’re evolving! Simpler.” She joked.

“I’ll choose the girl.”

“Fair, it’s you that will be dating her.”

……………………………………………………………………………..

You were snoring softly against the pillow, your limbs just screamed with pain and this nap was really the only thing that you needed right now, however, your doorbell started to ring. With an angry groan, you stood up from your bed and walked towards the door, opening and seeing a very anxious Lewis Hamilton there.

“Hey, Lew… Kinda weird for you to visit me in the middle of the week, especially that you have a race on sunday. You know, there’s a thing called cell phones…” He didn’t even wait for you to finish talking and walked inside your loft. “Oh, okay then, no manners, I see.”

“So… I need your help.”

“Here it comes… What’s wrong, mate?” You sat next to him, holding his hand.

“So, my PR wants me to be in a relationship. A fake. So the media will focus on something else about me.”

“Do you need me to find you a bloke?”

“Kind of. Actually… Would you be in?” He looked at you with exasperation in his eyes. “It’s just… We've been friends for years now, people have seen us together a lot, they always suspected it… And I trust you. A lot.”

“That’s…” You sighed, letting your back hit the soft cushion. “A lot. Like- It will affect my career, for sure! Or I won’t have time to be this aesthetic WAG of a Formula One driver. I love you, Lew… But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I know! I know! But… Everything sucks since last year and if I’m going to do this so I can wipe out all of the shit, at least I’m doing it with someone I love.”

You just heard his words and kept quiet for a few seconds, reflecting if this was not as insane as your brain wants to put it. Well, it is very outside of the norm to have your very famous friend asking you to be his fake girlfriend for the media, but at the same time, you’ve felt honoured that he thought about you first amongst all of your common friends.

“Well.. Since you asked nicely, we can arrange that.” You laid your head on his shoulder. “Fuck, you really know how to convince me.”

“Always did that very well and you know it.”

…………………………………………………………………

A few days later, some meeting with both of your lawyers, a contract - evolving money, you were planning on how to make it public your “relationship”. Your profiles on social media were all private, so no one could see except from pictures that he would post.

“Okay… So we can make this very secretive, to make them talk about it.” Miranda, the PR, suggested it.

“Maybe some fancy dates at restaurants?” He suggested.

“And sometimes, you leave the paddock holding flowers, like you’re going to give to someone else.” You completed it.

“And then, he can take you to a race, but just simple gestures, no kissing, of course. But enough to make them crazy for a break.” The PR finished, smiling. “And remember, you can have other people, as long as you’re very secretive about it, we don’t want a cheating scandal.”

“I kinda feel bad about the fans, they will be very happy.” The British man said, sipping on his whiskey.

“It’s your fault you didn’t want to fall in love.”

“My bad that no one would be as good as you.” He poked his tongue out, laughing.

“Such a cheesy man, are you, huh? I didn’t know that.”

………………………………………………………………….

The first few weeks of you being “together”, some paparazzis caught you two in some fancy restaurants, running together. At the beginning, it was awkward, you were friends, sure… But this whole situationship about pretending to be together was leaving you into a weird space everytime you two were alone. Of course, he tried to avoid it, skipping this step, but inevitably it would happen for a while.

Then, he invited you to spend a weekend with him, a race weekend. Your first thought was to deny at all costs, it was going to be so uncomfortable, especially with paparazzi all around you both. However, with a little of his encouragement words and reassurance that you did not need to go in with him through the Paddock, you agreed to it.

Sunday morning, he got this two bedroom ensuite on, so you wouldn't actually sleep at the same place, but not to leave any suspicions in case someone invaded your privacy. Lewis was up early, shifting around, shower on then off, blow dryer, lights on and off. You groaned and got up, opening your door and showing the middle finger towards him.

“Good morning, love.” He smiled, and threw some clothes at you.

“What’s that?”

“Some matching clothes. I know we won’t walk in together, but… I need to know you’re mine.” His cocky smile appeared.

“You…” You pulled the mostly monochromatic yellow outfit. “How?”

“Oh! And I have some shoes and accessories, you can look into that bag!”

“Okay, you really put yourself through.”

“Go get dressed! We’ll leave for breakfast soon!”

“I’m sorry, but I need makeup to look hot, so you will sit your fine ass down and let me do my magic.”

“Anything for my queen.”

“Cheesy!” You screamed, going to the bathroom with all of the things he gave to you.

After an hour, you two were finally going to the paddock. He was wearing an all yellow outfit and it perfectly matched with you. It was dumb? Yeah, but the butterflies were running up on his chest, the feeling of his missing puzzle piece being there just made everything even more confusing. He let you go out first, entering another through another gate - with almost no one around except for the team crew, then of course he made his entrance, looking handsome as always, while you were already at Mercedes’ hospitality, getting an espresso. When he appeared with a smile, extending a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers.

“Thank you.” You murmured, kissing his cheek.

“It’s not for publicity, okay? It’s an acknowledgment for being the best.”

“But the paparazzi loved it, people are really going crazy.” You could hear his laugh and it made your heart flutter.

………………………………………………………….

The end of the season sucked, Lewis had a DNF on Abu Dhabi, which made at least that horrible car have its end. He was upset, everything in that year about racing was just messed up, but at least he had you along the way.

You gave him a few days to breathe, acknowledge this unusual year for him, Hamilton needed this time for himself and you understood. Of course, it was mundane now, from spending some weekends knowing new countries and having fun with him, it was paradise, now you got it why women would always throw themselves at his feet, I mean- he was handsome and polite and also your friend for years, but you’ve never seen that way, a different side of the british man. You smiled with the pictures that popped up on your twitter, of you two hanging out the night before the last race, his hand around your waist, a stunning smile that could light up the whole room and stylish outfits - that you’ve always tried to match and look as fashionable as he is, however, the dark skinned man would steal the scene every time he stepped on the paddock for a race weekend.

The sound of some random tv show played in the background as you kept scrolling your instagram feed, just to kill some time. Out of the blue, Hamilton’s nickname appeared on the screen and you thought it was weird, why would he call when texting was quicker? Without waiting, you answered the call, pressing your legs together in anticipation.

“Hey, love.”

“Hi, Lew. Why calling? Especially in the middle of the day.”

“Oh… Wanna drive somewhere? I just could use some company.”

“Of course?” The request was a bit out of his usual character, however you knew him enough to know he just wanted to empty his mind.

“Pick you up in five.”

“Ok!”

And he hung up. You managed to put on a hoodie, sneakers and some makeup - just a bit of mascara, lipgloss and a blush, to look more “alive”. In exactly five minutes his car was pulling on your driveway. He opened the door for you and soon you two were going off to… somewhere.

The ride was rather quiet, just some pop music from the radio filling up the silence - comfortable silence. In less than an hour, he pulled up on a beautiful view, between the rocks you could see a river that was starting to freeze.

“Everything okay?” You said, in a low tone.

“Yeah. Just wanted to drive off, but your company makes it better.”

…………………………………………………………………………………

After that night, where you contemplated the view, talked and reflected on how your lives have changed in those last years, he took you home and wished you a good night. This became frequent, drive offs to different places, inviting you to his morning runs and hikes - which you weren’t so good, so he would continuously hold your hips and sometimes, when he was in his best mood, his hand would slip into yours on the rides back to your house and it was the best sensation in the whole world.

That’s when he knew he fell in love and all of this was more than some publicity contract, Lewis wanted to be by your side, it was the moments where he could be himself and no judgments from anyone, just you two in some remote place, far from paparazzi. At first, he didn’t want to believe, he promised himself, right before all of this had started, he wouldn’t fall in love with you. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Yet, there he was, sitting down on his sofa, looking at pictures that he took of you on top of some hill, smiling. Quickly he called Miranda, Angela and Russell on a video call.

“I think I fell for her. And I promised myself I wouldn’t be in this state.” He sighed dramatically.

“That was just a matter of time, mate.” The British younger driver said, chuckling.

“What?”

“I hate to say it, but… You really sold the couple thing.” Miranda completed. “She looks at you like you’re the one.”

“I’m thirty-eight and I’m freaking out just like a teenager trying to deny its first love. And she’s an old friend. Great!” He passed his hands on the loose curls of his hair. “I really didn’t think I could actually feel that.”

………………………………………………………………………..

After another drive to a beautiful sight with no one else, he parked his car in front of your house. Looking at you for a few seconds before he tried to pay attention to something else. You noted that right away, thinking that he did get a bit distant those last few days, especially after his birthday, so you figured out that maybe you said the wrong thing or he found someone to actually be with him, so you would be finishing the contract on the publicity stunt. Well, it was good while it lasted, but it didn’t stop you to feel a heartbreak coming into you. As a mature woman, you breathed in and looked at him.

“Something is wrong with you. Spill it out.”

“Well… Something is wrong. And I need to talk to you about it.”

“Go for it, Hamilton. You know I can take it.”

“What?”

“What do you think I’m going to say?”

“That we should end this?”

“Oh… Love. Wait. Listen to me first.” He held both of your hands. “ At the beginning this was to save my ass and to have some company on the weekends, but with all those months being… In this fake relationship made me realise something…” He breathed in, closing his eyes. “I’m in love with you. I don’t want this to be a publicity stunt. I want you to be with me as mine. My girl.”

You put your hand on his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. “I didn’t know you were so romantic.”

He didn’t wait for more and soon his lips were against yours in a calm yet romantic kiss. His hands lowered to your hips, pulling your body closer to his, while he deepened the touch. When air made it necessary, you were almost on his lap and both of your cheeks were bright red.

“Come in with me. I promise there’s no paparazzi waiting for us inside.”

He laughed and got out of the car, opening the door for you as you two rushed inside like horny teenagers.

#lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction #lewis hamilton x you

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