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Re-Runs: A Small World - Season Three (A Few Good Men) Episode 37
A SMALL WORLD – SEASON THREE Copyright © Ufuomaee DISCLAIMER: Please note that this series contains some sexually explicit content, violence and offensive language. It is not appropriate for children nor an immature and sensitive audience. EPISODE THIRTY-SEVEN It was the morning of Samson’s arraignment at the Regional Magistrate Court of Lagos. Mary, Ifeanyi, and Samuel were in attendance. The…
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#A Few Good Men#A Small World Season Three#A Small World Seasonal Series#A Small World Universe#Christian fiction#Ufuomaee
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i WAS going to do a fun What Should I Read Next poll but my hold for Translation State audio came in so. that answers that :3
#bookbird babbles#i placed it BEFORE al sent it to me 🥺#anyway the other options were new murderbot sunbringer what feasts at night and bone season#bone season IS a reread but its a side by side with the new edition to see what she changed#i suspect the answer is Nothing Actually#bc honestly theres no small thing she can change that would make the series better#she would have to do a MASSIVE rewrite#AND SHE SHOULD TBH#THE WORLD HAS SO MUCH POTENTIAL '#SHES JUST NOT USING IT RIGHT!!!!!!!#and yet. i own thre copies of book one.#why am i like this#(the hardcover is the OG edition the superior edition)#(the pb has the short story in it aka the ONE GOOD THING ABOUT THE SERIES)#(bc it doesnt have the fucking rephaim in it)#(and then the new 'updated' edition)#(which i suspect is not actually updated lmao0#idk maybe she tweaked a sentence or two
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Aang being a shitty dad is fine, but it's the way tlok makes Aang a shitty I have a problem with. You're telling me a guy who's entire culture was whipped out and whole family was massacred wasn't overjoyed at the possibility of sharing his culture with his entire family?
Would Aang have given more attention to Tenzin? Probably, them being the only airbenders would have almost certainly fostered a complex dynamic between the two— even to the extent that it would damage the father/son relationship. I think it's also worth pointing out that Aang was raised in a culture without the nuclear family dynamic we see him participarting in with Katara and their kids, and it's not out of the realm of possibility that Aang would fall short of the expectations and responibilities being a typical father figure brings especially when he himself never experienced that dynamic. Especially, especially compounded with the task of rebuilding a struggling world and maintaining peace.
However, do I think he would neglect to show his kids his culture? Their culture? No. Certainly not the extent he did, and especially not when we see how excited he is to share it with his friends in the show. Why wouldn't he be excited to share it with his kids? With all his kids? How the writers of The Legend of Korra make him a bad dad is a complex series of failures not the least of which stem from racism, the unwillingness to even attempt an understanding of multicultural families, TLOK originally being a 12 episode miniseries that then got greenlit for another season and was suddenly taxed with building upon a world that was never intended to exist beyond its original scope, and a fundamental misunderstanding of Aang as a character.
tldr:
#he probably would have been a kinda shitty dad just Not Like That#and while were here#why is bumi portrayed as essentially cultureless? certainly there were non benders in the air nomads#and why does the show act like only Bolin is from the earth nation and Mako from the fire nation?#because these white! creators fundamentally do not understand what living in a multicultural household is like#and were completely incurious to what the experience might've been like for these characters#and again. to harp on the whole building upon a world that was never intended to exist outside its original premise thing#that's why the writing gets weaker in the second season and picks back up in the third#these writers are clearly talented but so obviously fumbled when it came to expanded on these characters#who were written for a short quick one off series and then suddenly had to exist outside of that#all of the arcs and story beats were pretty one note and quick because book 1 is a full complete story#that's why only book 1 ties into the name conventions of atla#because all of the legend of korra was originally built to just be book one#and then suddenly your stuck with this story that you had completely wrapped up#and characters who now have to be expanded beyond what they were intended to be#and the writers very clearly could not do that. that's why Aang being a shitty dad comes out of left field almost.#and why none of the villains tie into each other until the very end with a quick little explanation#and it's also why the world building is so much weaker than atla#atla was know for it's compelling world building and dynamic side characters None of which exist in tlok#or well. they do! in a much smaller diluted form.#because functionally the story is still trapped in the original confines of the first season#and also trapped in the back there is 50% less content every season#no time to experience a small village in the fire nation! we gotta get to plot!#no time to flesh out the comic relief character!! plot! gotta get to the plot!!#and they couldn't even make that plot good in the second season.#atla#tlok#aang
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I was on a plane this weekend, and I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me about an upcoming writer’s strike. “Do you really think you’re mistreated?” she asked me.
That’s not the issue at stake here. Let me tell you a little something about “minirooms.”
Minirooms are a way of television writing that is becoming more common. Basically, the studio will hire a small group of writers, 3-6 or so, and employ them for just a few weeks. In those few weeks (six weeks seem to be common), they have to hurriedly figure out as much about the show as they can -- characters, plots, outlines for episodes. Then at the end of the six weeks, all the writers are fired except for the showrunner, who has to write the entire series themselves based on the outlines.
This is not a widespread practice, but it has become more common over the past couple of years. Studios like it because instead of paying for a full room for the full length of the show, they just pay a handful of writers for a fraction of the show. It’s not a huge problem now, but the WGA only gets the chance to make rules every three years -- if we let this go for another three years and it becomes the norm? That would be DEVASTATING for the tv writing profession.
Do I feel like I’m mistreated? No. I LOVE my job! But in a world of minirooms, there is no place for someone like me -- a mid-level writer who makes a decent living working on someone else’s show (I’d like to be a showrunner someday, but for now I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and my husband and I are trying to start a family so I like not being support rather than the leader for now). In a miniroom, there are only two levels -- the handful of glorified idea people who are already scrambling to find their next show because you can’t make a decent living off of one six-week job (and since there are fewer people per room, there are fewer jobs overall, even at the six-week amount), and the overworked, stressed as fuck showrunner who is going to have to write the entire thing themselves. Besides being bad for me making a living, I also just think it’s plain bad for television as an art form -- what I like about TV is how adaptable it is, how a whole group of people come together to tell a story better than what any of them could do on their own. Plus the showrunner can’t do their best work under all of that pressure, episode after episode, back to back. Minirooms just...fucking suck.
The WGA is proposing two things to fix this -- a rule that writers have to be employed for the entire show, and a rule tying the number of writers in the room to the number of episodes you have per season. I don’t think it’s unreasonable. It’s the way shows have run since the advent of television. It’s only in the last couple of years that this has become a new thing. It’s exploitative. It squeezes out everyone except showrunners and people who have the financial means to work only a few months a year. It makes television worse. And that is the issue in this strike that means everything to me, and that is why I voted yes on the strike authorization vote.
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The thing I’m trying to keep in mind right now regarding the Rooster Teeth news is this:
RWBY made it nine seasons. Nine. Seasons. Over ten years. For an indie series made by a comparatively small team. That’s more than most big studio shows get.
Even if we never end up seeing the end of it (I’m still holding out hope), even if you never cared about the show or thought it went downhill at some point, you have to admit that that is incredibly admirable.
Monty Oum, Miles Luna and Kerry Shawcross wanted to make a show, and they did. And that little show ended up becoming a whole ass franchise with over a hundred episodes and legions of fans all over the world.
And no matter what, I think that’s worth celebrating.
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nothing bad!- o.piastri
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summary: the sprint pisses you off, ted's notebook catches you at a bad time, you say some things, oscar posts some things, and it ends up being one of the most popular ad campaigns in history. oops.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader
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You rolled your eyes as you watched the sprint end. Bullshit. Team orders had always left a bad taste in your mouth, but this was just bullshit. You sighed, looking at Mark, and he just rolled his eyes. Oscar was on par with Lando in his second season. Yes, there were some small mistakes or issues, but he was a fucking jet engine, and he deserved a team that treated him like one. He was going to be World Champion next year, you knew it, Mark knew it, everyone knew it.
“Fucking arseholes,” Mark cursed. “What time is your quali at?”
“12,” you answered. “I’m going to just go talk to him, see you in a bit.”
You stood in Parc Fermé and he came up, pressing a kiss to your lips and sighing as his team congratulated him.
“That was such bullshit,” you sighed, following him to his driver’s room after the media duties. “Wanna fuck to get all that frustration out?”
He nodded, not even looking at the question like it was a joke. You both knew it wasn’t. “How long until your quali?”
“An hour,” you shrugged, pulling him into his room with a smirk.
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When you two finally resurfaced, you made your way over to your car, ready to slot it onto the grid, as you did, you were stopped by Ted Kravitz, the man, the myth, the legend himself.
“Y/n! How are you feeling about today’s quali and sprint race?” he asked.
“Good, yeah. Just need to get out and up there,” you nodded. You were the number one driver in F1 Academy, and F2. This weekend was an F1 Academy weekend. You’d won every race since you’d joined the series, a sweep of total domination for 2 years. 13 wins under your belt in F1 Academy, 12 feature race wins in F2, and 12 Sprint wins in F2. And you were only 22.
“And how did you feel about Oscar’s Sprint race? You didn’t look so happy in Parc Fermé.”
You rolled your eyes. “If Lando really needs Oscar to take a side step like that over one point, maybe he’s not ready to be champion,” you shrugged. “And that’s coming from a friend.”
You could feel the air shift as Ted smirked, knowing what a headline that would be.
“Thanks for your time Y/n, we’ll see you on the other side of Quali,” he smiled, allowing you to walk on.
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Pole position, again.
It was almost funny how easy it was.
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You made your way back into your garage and found Oscar looking proud, but slightly guilty…
“What did you do?” you asked, putting your helmet and gloves down.
“Nothing bad,” he prefaced. “But I may or may not have posted something.”
You looked at him quizzically. “Show me.”
He turned his phone around and you laughed.
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oscarpiastri
liked by pierregasly, landonorris, y/nracing, and 839,231 others
oscarpiastri: get yourself a girlfriend who a) is intelligent, gorgeous, and awesome. and b) publicly humiliates your teammate over one point :)
comments
landonorris: low blow... i thanked you -> y/nracing: u forgot to thank beyonce.
user82: WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS
mclaren: please take this down xxx -> y/nracing: if he takes this down i'll bomb mtc. -> mclaren: OH GREAT HEAVENS.
zbrownceo: we know this diva 💜
lilymhe: hold up im trying to spell gorjus -> y/nracing: OMG I FUCKING LOVE YOU DITCH ALEX FOR ME PLZ
carlossainz: at least you've got a leg up on lando... -> user22: ??? -> carlossainz: he hjas a girlfriend that loves him, lando's dumps him every four days -> landonorris: WHY AM I CATCHING STRAYS RN????
oscarpiastri: who is this gorgeous lady? -> y/nracing: she's taken bucko -> oscarpiastri: not by lando norris 😹😹😹 (even though he asked you out first...) -> y/nracing: who the fuck would pick lando over oscar?
pierregasly: WHO IS THIS DIVA 💜
charlesleclerc: glad to see my daughter in law is still insane
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“Well, I’d better post something myself, shouldn't I?” you smirked. He nodded, a bright blush on his cheeks, knowing exactly what you were going to post.
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y/nracing
liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 12,293,942 others
y/nracing: booo ln4. i'm into op81. oh yeah, also our skims collection is out on the 24th xxx
comments
user82: OH MY FUCKING GOD
user29: i have no one to talk to about this.
oscarpiastri: pretty girl -> y/nracing: pretty boy
landonorris: ??? ->oscarpiastri: I will actually gouge your eyes out, unlike this post right now. -> user92: WHAT HAPPENED TO POLITE CAT? -> oscarpiastri: his teammate became a bitch
user92: HOLY SHIT Y/N IS LOOKING GORG
lilymhe: my girl is beautiful
alexandrastmleux: my girl xxx
charlesleclerc: supporting! (with my eyes closed)
pierregasly: 👀 ->oscarpiastri: close them.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader#f1#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#requests#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction
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All I’ve Ever Wanted
Season 4!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader
! Spoilers ahead !
Summary: six years of travelling to different timelines, and Five isn’t sure how much longer he can go on for. Until he stumbles upon a greenhouse, full of strawberries. And you.
Word count: 4212
A/N: so season 4 was a… thing that happened. This story is basically my own idea of how things should’ve gone in ep 5. Instead of the weird Lila/Five situation, it’s just Five, and his chance of living a normal life with someone new. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is appreciated :)
Number Five was never one to back down from a challenge. Having been through a series of different apocalyptic events, transporting to a timeline where he spent 40 years alone, and dealing with a misfit group consisting of his exhausting siblings, Five was up for anything. But the current situation he was dealing with? For the first time in his life, he was at breaking point.
After another wasted day spending hour after hour searching for any clues or information on how to get back to the correct timeline, Five returns to the subway, entering one of the compartments and slumping down in the first chair he sees. He rubs his eyes and lets out a visceral sigh, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. He reaches into his pockets, pulling out a small pack of dried fruits. He rips it open and devours every last piece. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He was becoming more desperate, rummaging through trash cans and foraging in bushes, hoping anything he picks isn’t poisonous.
The compartment jolts and begins to move, making its way to the next timeline. Five wipes his hands on his already dirty pants, standing up and walking slowly to the door. He wonders whether his apocalypse counterpart will be waiting for him this time.
After several minutes, and Five almost falling over from his lack of sleep, he finally arrives, the doors opening. He steps out, immediately making his way up the stairs. No time to waste. He cautiously pokes his head out, looking around for any signs of, well, himself. Before he can move out more, something wizzes past his head. A bullet. He ducks, as more shots are fired directly at him.
“Give me a fuckin’ break,” Five mumbles, as he finally takes notices of the other him in the distance.
He sticks up his middle finger, and no soon after closes his fists, blinking as quick as he possibly could.
The Five with a gun disappears along with the destroyed world around him. Five drops his arms to his sides, turning around and admiring the new environment. Luscious, greenery surrounds him, with an array of different flowers sprouting from the ground beneath him. A small pond with fish glimmers in the sunshine, lily pads floating on top. He continues turning, finding himself standing next to a tall greenhouse. The glass was slightly foggy, making it difficult to see what’s inside. Five leans in closer, squinting as if that would help. He can barely make out what appears to be pots of fruit and vegetables, some fully sprouted and others not yet ripe. His stomach rumbles, the feeling of hunger consuming him.
A rustle sounds from behind him. He turns quickly, coming face to face with a pair of shears. Five jumps back slightly. He then spots the person wielding said ‘weapon’. A young woman, probably early twenties, wearing a light yellow dress and a pair of brown sandals. Five can’t help but admire her beauty, if it wasn’t for the fact she had a face like fury and didn’t seem afraid of cutting him in half.
“Can I help you?” Her words are kind, but her harsh tone says otherwise.
Five can’t exactly tell this young woman the truth. Showing up randomly in her back yard, covered in grime, gawking at her crops through the window. He raises his hands up in the air, trying to convey that he meant no harm.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his throat sore having not spoken to anyone in quite some time. “I don’t really know how I got here.” That’s not exactly true. “I’ve been travelling for a few days now.” Try six years. “And I could really do with a hot shower and something to eat.”
The woman doesn’t say anything, just staring, with the shears still held out in front of her.
Five puts his arms down, shrugging in defeat. “I’ll just go. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He looks down. “Or step all over your rose garden.” He gingerly moves away from the destroyed flowers.
He turns and begins to walk away, hoping to find an exit as quick as possible. Blinking in front of this woman probably wouldn’t help his cause. A warm hand grabs hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop and look back. She has the shears loosely hanging by her side, as her eyes pierce into Five’s. She seems hesitant, words forming in her mind. At last, she speaks again.
“You’re telling the truth?”
Five nods incessantly, feeling like a child.
“And if I let you in and make you something to eat, you won’t try and kill me?”
Five holds back a laugh, knowing she’s being deadly serious. “I wouldn’t dare.”
The woman waits a beat, then huffs. “Come on, I was just about to start dinner.”
She moves past Five, walking into three greenhouse. He takes this as a sign to follow after her.
***
The young woman allows Five to use her shower, and he’s thankful for the change of clothes she provides for him too. The home is small and cosy, playing into the stereotypical cottage core of living. The lighting is soft, and the smell of pumpkin seems to waft through into every room. It’s calming, it’s peaceful, it’s something that makes Five feel on edge. He isn’t used to the domestic life, away from the terror and destruction, trying to save the world over and over. He knows he can’t stay here long, but he won’t miss the opportunity of a proper cooked meal.
After putting on the change of clothes, Five makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen, a small buffet waiting for him. He finds it hard not to drool, the potatoes and fresh pie, along with the fruit and vegetables he’d spotted earlier. It looks incredible. He takes a seat, as the woman places down a final plate of tomatoes, sitting down opposite Five.
They dish out the food, filling their plates as high as they can, especially Five. He tries not to look like a slob in front of the pretty girl, but finds it hard not to drop some things down his top. She doesn’t seem to notice, or pretends not to.
The woman takes a sip of her drink, clearing her throat. “So,” her soft voice makes Five look up from his plate. “Do you have a name or is that one of the many mysteries of the man shovelling food down his throat like he hasn’t eaten in several years?”
The woman isn’t afraid of being upfront. Five admires that. Although, it’s not surprising considering he’s a complete stranger she’s trusted in her home. He puts down his knife and fork, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“No, I have a name. It’s Fi-,” he catches himself, unsure if his ‘name’ would just create more confusion, and unwanted questions. “Jerome. Just, Jerome.”
The woman squints her eyes, but doesn’t push further, seeming to move past his stumble. “Okay. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Jerome.”
Five shrugs, not knowing what else to say.
“My names Y/N.”
Five nods. “Okay. We’re closer already.”
“Don’t push it,” Y/N says, a small smile gracing her face. Five can’t help but pull the same expression.
***
After a hearty dinner, and some obvious awkward silences, Five insists on helping Y/N do the washing up. The sun was beginning to set, and Five knows he’ll have to leave soon, but something stops him from doing so. He doesn’t want to admit it, but this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. The fear or worry of something bad happening wasn’t there, and as he stands close to the woman he had barely met 2 hours ago, he realises what he’d been missing in his 60 something years. A place to live, with a person who makes him feel safe.
“Jerome,” the voice breaks through his thoughts, as Five almost forgets the name he’d given to this woman. “I feel like we’ve skirted around the topic enough. Is there any reason you were in the state you were in, taking refuge behind my greenhouse?”
Five places down the plate he was cleaning, turning to face her fully. Her expression is calm, and her voice shows no sign of interrogation. It’s a first for Five, as he’s become accustomed to people prodding him for information only for their own benefit. No one’s ever shown true interest in him.
He shrugs. “It’s been a tough couple of years. More than that I guess.” Fives eyes glaze over. “I haven’t seen my family in a long time, and I don’t know if I ever will. And if I do, I’m terrified of the state that I’ll find them in.”
Y/N stops what she’s doing, also turning to look at Five, a look of worry taking over her face. He knows he’s said more than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. He’s not good at sharing his feelings, and when he does, he’s scared of what will happen once the flood gates are opened. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to close them.
“What d’you mean? Are they in some kind of trouble?” She asks, a slight shake in her voice. “Are you in trouble?”
Five shakes his head, not wanting to stress out this poor woman who’s been nothing but doting to him. “No! No, I just,” he sighs, knowing he’s really put his foot in it. “I just care about them, a lot. Too much. And I don’t even want to think about not seeing them again.”
A soft hand brushes against Five’s cheek, as he glances at Y/N wiping a tear away from his face. He didn’t even realise he’d started crying. He sniffles, moving away and rubbing at his eyes, fearing how red they may look. He sucks in a deep breath, calming his beating heart. Whether it’s from talking about his family, or the touch from the woman next to him, he isn’t sure. But he fears he’s overstayed his welcome.
Five moves away from the kitchen counter. “I guess I should probably go. Don’t wanna miss my train.” Although he knows they’ll always be one there waiting for him.
He heads for the door, remembering to go upstairs and collect his dirty clothes before he leaves. Footsteps are heard from behind him.
“Uh,” Five swivels back around, as Y/N hesitates over her words. “This may seem kinda forward, and a dangerous move on my part, but, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing you were out there in the middle of the night, traveling by yourself.”
Five holds his breath, not wanting to jump the gun, but already anticipating the next sentence out of her mouth.
“I have extra pillows, and blankets.” Y/N shrugs. “It’s not the most comfortable couch but I’d say it’s more comfortable than the chairs on the train.”
Neither of them speak for a while. Five ponders her offer over and over, wondering if this is something he wants to decline. He needs to get back to his family. He needs to get back to help them. But so far, every option has been a bust. He’s not sure how much longer he can go on for. It could be the apocalypse all over again. Stuck for 40 years, traveling none stop, unsure if he’ll ever see his loved ones again. Could a good nights sleep really be such a bad thing?
He thinks the risk is worth it. “As long as it’s not too much trouble for you.”
***
That one good nights sleep turned into three months, staying at Y/N’s home, crashing on her couch. It didn’t stop Five from going out, back to the subway, trying to find the possible solution to his six year problem. But the more time he spent with the woman, the less time he wanted to spend away from her. They grew closer, making meals together, gardening together, watching silly romcoms together. While Y/N taught Five how to bake, Five taught her how to fight. A young woman living by herself? It didn’t hurt knowing some basic defence skills.
Five didn’t want to admit it, but his family hadn’t crossed his mind as often as it usually did before he met Y/N. He’d become soft, wanting to be around her all the time, not wanting to visit the subway as often as he should be. He’s lucky enough to call her a friend. He hopes she calls him that too.
***
It’s late, and Y/N is sat on the couch, crocheting a few pairs of gloves and a long overdue jumper. People used to make fun of her for it, calling her an old lady, but she finds it soothing. And making your own clothes is a big bonus too. Five, or Jerome as she knew him, had been out most of the day. She never questioned what he was up to, only that he returned safe, ready for whatever she’d cooked up for him during the day. She wasn’t completely naive in thinking ‘Jerome’ has involved himself in shady business. But unless he plans on telling her, then she won’t bother pushing him on the matter.
A bang echos from the back of the house, specifically inside the geeenhouse. It makes Y/N jump up from her seated position, quickly rushing out to the source of the noise. It can only be one person, or that’s what she hopes. Either way, she grabs for her shears before entering the warm glass room.
“Jerome?” She whispers, watching her step, the only light in the room coming from the moon through the windows.
A muffled groaning reaches her ears, as Y/N blindly moves her hands over the walls, trying to find the light switch. She finally does, and flicks it on. A sharp gasp comes out of her mouth, as the brightness finally reveals her new friend curled in a ball on the floor, rolling in pain.
“Shit.”
She quickly makes her way over to him, delicately wrapping her arms around his waist and slowly helping him off the floor. He stumbles, knocking into a few pots, almost making them fall off the table.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, the word slurring under his breath.
“Don’t apologise,” she says, making sure he’s steady on his feet. “Let’s just get you inside and onto the couch.”
They make their way through into the living room, Five dropping haphazardly onto the soft cushions, while Y/N finally gets a proper look at him. His clothes are ripped, the once pristine suit (one she bought for him as a gift) now in tatters. His hair is sticking up in all different directions, and he’s clutching to his side like his life depends on it. She reaches for his arm, prying it away to reveal an array of bullet wounds, still bleeding.
“You should see the other guy,” Five jokes, tilting his head back and trying to forget about the burning pain running across his body. Funnily enough, if Y/N saw the other guy, he’d look exactly like him, considering this all happened due to an unfortunate run in with apocalypse Five.
Y/N stares at him with wide eyes. “Really? Look, I don’t bother asking where you go or what you’re up to when you leave this house, but I think now’s the time you tell me the truth.”
Five moves his head back down, looking her in the eyes. She’s terrified. And he hates that. He breathes in deep, taking her hand in his.
“If you can help me patch this shit up,” he briefly motions to his wounds, “then I’ll tell you who I really am.”
So that’s what they do. Y/N retrieves the first aid kit from her bathroom, while Five opens up about his life before he met her, and how he’s not from this timeline. He isn’t sure if she’s believing what he says, as she remains quiet the entire time, only occasionally looking up at him and quickly returning to removing the bullets lodged in his side. But she listens. And allows him to pour his heart out to her.
“The past six years were torture. Somehow worse than the forty I spent in the apocalypse.” Five turns his head and stares at the woman next to him, as she finishes up her work. “But these last few months with you. I could finally be normal. I could live a life most guys would kill to have. And I’m so sorry I lied to you this long.”
They fall into silence, the pair somehow closer together than they were a few minutes ago. Both emotionally, and physically. Y/N moves her hand and takes his, squeezing tightly. Five’s heartbeat picks up speed, only now noticing their close proximity.
“So your real name is ‘Five’?” He nods at her words. She nods back. “Hmm. It suits you a lot better than Jerome.”
They both laugh half heartedly, as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes. She moves her hand up to his hair, moving it out of his face, trying to calm it down slightly.
She carries on talking. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Five rolls his eyes. She doesn’t even know the half of it. “But if I can be the person to keep you grounded, for however long you’re here for, then I’m happy to do just that.”
Five smiles, glancing quickly at her lips.
She does the same. “And I hope you’re here for a long time.”
They both lean in, softly pressing their lips against each other’s. Five cups her face, deepening the kiss as Y/N rests her arms atop his shoulders. They move in sync, careful not to cause any more damage to Five’s wounds, as she somehow moves closer, one of her legs wrapping itself around his waist.
They don’t stop, clothes discarded, bodies intertwined, as their growing tension is finally broken. Five isn’t sure if he’ll ever get back to his timeline, but for now, he’s happy to call this place home.
***
Another four months, and still no sign of a way back. Although, Five can’t deny he hasn’t been trying as hard as usual. The peace and tranquillity has consumed him whole, falling into a proper routine with the woman he…
Is it love? Could he truly fall for someone like this? Someone who isn’t involved in the shit show he’s grown accustomed to? Someone who wants that quiet life, watering flowers and baking pies, with him? Maybe it’s what he needs.
Five stands in the greenhouse, picking some fresh strawberries, and trying a few to see if they were ripe. He’s already found the perfect recipe to use them in. Something he knows she’ll love.
As if reading his thoughts, a pair of arms slip around his waist. Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder, peaking over to see the basket full of fresh fruit. She picks one up, moving away and popping it in her mouth. Five turns and looks at her, smiling wide.
“They taste perfect,” she says.
Five takes her wrists, pulling her towards him and kissing her lightly. “So do you.”
She laughs, holding him close and breathing him in. “The cheesy lines don’t work on me, bub.”
“I think they do.” He mumbles, bringing her in for another kiss, sliding his hands up and down her back.
They stay like this for a while, holding each other in the warm glass room. The sun starts to set, as Five looks out and realises what time it is.
“Damn.”
She looks at him, confusion on her face. “What’s up?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just need to do a double check of the subway before dinner.”
Y/N tries not to show her anxiousness, but some of it seeps through. After Five explained to her what the subway is and why he goes there every day, she’s terrified at the thought of him leaving and never coming back. But she knows he wouldn’t do that to her. Not without saying goodbye.
She steps back. “Right. Promise you’ll be safe?”
He kisses her on the cheek. “I promise.”
***
Five spends some time looking around the platform in the subway, checking the lights, checking the maps, even poking his head into the tunnels to see if anything has changed. But nothing. It all remains the same. No sign of his past life waiting for him. Was that such a bad thing?
Holding a small flashlight, he shines it up and down, left and right, hoping his eyes will catch something new. A sudden pop from above startles him, the grip he had on the flashlight loosening. It falls and rolls onto the tracks. Five looks up, noticing one of the bulbs now flickering. He huffs, moving to the edge of the platform and jumping down. He retrieves the flashlight, hitting it a few times to try and get it to work again. It comes to life, flashing in front of him. That’s when he spots something.
“That’s new.”
Five walks over, grabbing the mystery object and holding it up. It’s a plain notepad. He flips it open, scanning over the messy handwriting inside. His messy handwriting. He can’t help but let out a tiny gasp, as he figures out what it all means.
“This is it.” Tears form in his eyes. “This is my way back home.”
He’s shocked. He’s elated. He’s emotionally drained. This is his chance to rejoin his timeline. To see his family after so long. To fix the mess they’ve created. But all he can think about in this moment is Y/N. How the hell is he supposed to break the news to her?
***
After another hour spent pondering this new found information, Five slowly makes his way back home. His home. Where the life he’d built was waiting for him.
He enters the house and walks into the kitchen, where Y/N stands by the stove, boiling something sweet and caramelly. Five just stares at her; humming a random tune, wiping her messy hands on the apron he bought for her when her old one accidentally caught fire. That was the most stress he’d felt since coming here. And if that was the only stress he had to deal with, he’d take it every single day.
She finally turns and spots him, smiling wide. “Oh hey! I was worried for a sec, you were taking longer than expected.”
She moves closer to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He holds her, not wanting to let go. Y/N can tell something isn’t right.
She leans back. “You okay?”
Five doesn’t reply, only holding the notepad out for her to take. She does so, flipping through the pages just like he did, her expression perplexed.
“I don’t understand-”
“It’s the way back to my timeline.”
She looks up at him, mouth slightly open, as her words fall short. Five can swear he hears her heartbeat speed up, as her breathing becomes erratic. Five isn’t sure what to do, waiting for an explosion of emotions to rain down on him. But nothing comes. Neither of them do or say anything.
Five chooses to break the silence. “I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t. I don’t think I could live the way I used to live. Not after living this life with you.”
Y/N bites her lip, suppressing a sob. “You have to go.”
Five furrows his brow, hoping he heard her wrong. He tilts her head up to stare into her eyes, seeing the tears forming.
“No,” he whispers. “You’ve become the most important thing in my life. The thought of never seeing you again, I can’t do that.”
A tear falls down her cheek, as Five reaches out to wipe it away.
“I’d love nothing more than to stay in this little bubble we’ve created,” she replies, finding it hard to keep her voice steady. “But your family, your timeline, all those people? They need you more than I do. And I know deep down, you can’t bear the thought of letting them die, knowing you could’ve helped.”
Five wants to ask her to come with him. Become apart of his family. He knows she’d get on with them all. And they’d all love her, possibly more than they love him. But he knows it’s cruel to ask her to leave her life behind. The house, the garden, the home that she’s worked so hard on. And the thought of throwing her into the thick of it all. Putting her at danger? No chance.
He pulls her into his embrace, kissing her hard. They hold each other tight, their lips bruising as neither of them can stop the tears from falling.
Y/N is the first to pull away. “If you ever get the chance to come back to this timeline, you know where to find me.”
Five smiles, not wanting to let her go. He kisses her once more. “In the greenhouse, tasting just as sweet as the strawberries.”
#the umbrella academy#number five#five hargreeves x reader#x reader#five hargreeves#tua s4#tua s4 spoilers
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Holiday Blues with Tumblr
The mornings are getting darker. The evenings are, too. It’s a little chillier, don't you think? Well, if you start feeling a little blue around the holidays, we might have something for you. We call it Holiday Blues, and it’s back for 2023.
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No stress necessary. Leave your worries at the door
Make time for YOU! There’s always time for some self-love.
It’s YOUR healing journey, and you do it your way.
One final note:
Like, share, be there. It’s all good vibes, and it’s for everyone on Tumblr. Help us beat the holiday blues by using #holidayblueswithtumblr, and share Monday’s meditations, a tip or trick from Wellness Wednesday, the feel-good from Flex Friday, or some soothing soul nourishment from Self-Care Sunday.
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#holidayblueswithtumblr#holiday blues#holiday blues with tumblr#holidayblues#mental health#self care#healing#signal boost#holiday blues with tumblr 2023
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[3k] the season is over but the marriage remains. max starts to see little leclerc in a light no one in the world has ever seen before. and daniel is stirring the pot because he is bored. but in a concerned way, obviously.
series masterlist
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“When did you say he was coming?”
“Maman.”
“Sorry for being excited to see my son-in-law.”
“Ugh, don’t call him that.”
“That’s what he is, Charles. Grow up, please.”
You couldn’t help but let out a snort as you watched the way your brother argued with your mother, both on very different sides of the spectrum as you awaited Max to show up. Despite his best attempts, whatever plans Charles made to try and ruin the dinner, Pascale would always be one step ahead of him, leaving the boy pouty by the time six o’clock was approaching.
And whilst you knew your mother would be excited to meet the man you impulsively—and drunkenly—decided to marry in Vegas, you hadn’t expected her to reach this level. You don’t think you had even ever seen her take Christmas dinners to this level.
The fancy plates and cutlery had been taken out of the kitchen cupboard you and Arthur were forbidden from opening, and you had spent all morning polishing them with Lorenzo. Pascale had been running around the house like a headless chicken, as though Max would step into the house and notice the specks of dust on the top of the bookshelves and doorways. Charles had been sent out the house on a goose chase that you indefinitely knew was your mother’s way of preventing him from poisoning any dishes. And Arthur was sent along with him for good measure.
And when the clock hit five, she had practically ordered each and every one of you to put on something presentable and nice before the guest of the night arrived.
Truthfully, it felt like a funny fever dream until you were sitting in the living room, fingers tugging on the hem of your dress as you tried to fight the pit of anxiety in your stomach.
You hadn’t spoken to Max since earlier that morning. He had tried messaging a few more times: first asking what caused the sudden shift in tone, and then to ask for opinions on different bouquets. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to either.
You were angry. Not at him. Never at him, You were just angry at yourself. You were angry for letting such a small, meaningless comment get in your head. You were angry that you were taking your emotions out on Max who was clueless and didn’t deserve your sudden cold shoulder. You were angry that despite logically knowing all of this, the sight of his contact name and the mere idea that he was going to be in your house in the next few minutes didn’t help the pit in your stomach.
You tried to focus on Charles’ tantrum. You tried to focus on the jokes Arthur kept making to wind him up. You tried to focus on the way Lorenzo was calmly trying to persuade your mother to put the photo albums away before Max even arrived.
You tried to pretend you were okay when you were far from it.
“I want all four of you on your best behaviour,” Pascale told each of you as she anxiously glanced over at the clock, practically vibrating on the spot as the big hand neared closer to twelve with each passing moment. “No nonsense.”
“That means no sneaking away to make out with your husband,” Arthur teased, only to let out a wince when Charles slapped him across the back of his head.
“There will be nothing of the sort,” Charles grumbled, only to let out a wince when Pascale slapped him across the back of the head.
“Don’t hit your brother,” she said in a stern voice before adding. “And stop being such a buzzkill towards your sister.”
Charles rolled his eyes.
Pascale opened her mouth as though she was going to continue scolding her middle son, only to be cut off by the sound of three knocks at the door. Her face instantly lit up as she clapped her hands together, grinning widely as she rushed towards the door.
Maybe it was the anxiety or maybe it was something else, but your chest tightened when the door swung open and you saw Max on the other side of the door.
He arrived right at six on the dot, though you guessed the punctuality didn’t surprise you. What did surprise you was the lack of Red Bull merch. It was stupid to think he would have worn it to dinner, but then again, he had worn it to plenty of other events shamelessly so you never knew what to expect.
But no. Instead, Max stood in the doorway in black sweater with the collar of his white shirt sticking out the top. He wore dark jeans that didn’t look like they were painted on (a miracle) and he held a large bouquet of peonies that were the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen in your life.
“Mrs Leclerc,” he greeted her with a charming smile on his face as she opened the door. “Thank you for inviting—”
“Oh enough with the formalities!” She laughed before she brought him into a hug, the act clearly catching the boy off-guard if the wide eyes were anything to go by. “We are family now. Call me Pascale.”
“Oh. Right,” Max murmured, expertly keeping the bouquet to one side as he wrapped his other arm around the older woman. “Uh, these are for you.”
“My favourite,” she said with a genuine smile when she pulled back to take the bouquet from his hands. “What a gentleman you are, Max.”
You could have sworn you saw a light blush spread across his cheeks.
“Please, come in,” she ushered him in as she closed the door behind him. She turned on her heel, her smile still so wide, it was almost concerning. “Make yourself comfortable. Dinner is almost ready.”
Max nodded his head in thanks and turned to look at the others in the room. But his gaze completely missed your brothers and landed on you, something in his eyes shifting as he stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something.
But you were already up and out of your seat before he could say a single word to you.
“I’ll help bring the food to the table, Maman,” you said suddenly as you rushed towards the kitchen.
Arthur only snorted in response. “Trouble in paradise already.”
...
...
“You’re ignoring me.”
You almost jumped out of your skin, the phone that was previously in your hands now clambering onto the counter. You pressed your hand to your chest, the feeling of your wildly beating heart thundering under your skin as you tried to clear your throat.
“No, I’m not,” you denied, though you hadn’t turned to look at him.
Max raised his brows. “So you’re just hiding out in the kitchen when the rest of your family are outside for no reason then?”
“I’m not hiding out. I was checking on the chicken,” you said aimlessly, your cheeks heating up under his intense gaze. But still, you kept your eyes on the counter and the random dishes of food rather than the Dutchman who taking a few steps closer to you. “And I was texting Yuki. He was having some marriage issues so—”
“Guess you can relate then,” Max deadpanned.
Your cheeks burned warmer. “You should head back out to the party, Max.”
“At least fucking look at me,” he whispered, something almost pleading in his voice.
You weren’t used to it with the Dutchman. Even from a young age, Max was oddly self-assured and confident in what he said. The media said he was rude, but he was just blunt. He knew what he wanted to say. He didn’t sound apologetic when he said it. And he certainly didn’t sound so distressed when he demanded things.
And yet here he was, the three time world champion who had never sounded so desperate and anguished before in his life, just aching for you to lift your head.
You swallowed the ball lodged in the back of your throat before slowly turning your head to find Max a few steps away from you. He looked oddly concerned and maybe that’s what really caught you off-guard. You weren’t sure what you were expecting—maybe some annoyance or some anger—but it certainly wasn’t this.
His brows were furrowed together, the crease between his eyebrows deeper and more prominent than you had ever seen it. He looked a little lost and bashful, like for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do and he didn’t know what to do with that piece of information.
Max Verstappen had never looked so hopeless.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he spoke in a soft voice, and it didn’t help the pounding in your chest.
“Nothing is wrong, Max,” you said to him, and you tried to flash him a smile. But it was strained and wrong and he hated the look of it on your face.
“Don’t bullshit me. You said this marriage wasn’t going to work if I wasn’t enthusiastic, well it won’t work either if you lie to me,” he said in a slightly more firm voice, and this time he took another step towards you. “Tell me what I did.”
Your chest tightened again. “Max—”
“Was it the comment earlier?” He continued, that pleading note in his voice so loud and clear again. “It was a joke, I promise you. I’m not ashamed to be married to you. I could never be ashamed of you.”
“Max—”
“Yes, I know the circumstances of our marriage are a little unconventional and a little inconvenient too but,” Max’s hands rested on your upper arms, the touch warm and overwhelming but you didn’t think you wanted him to let go of you just yet. “If I had to marry someone in Vegas, I am glad it’s you.”
And it hurt.
It hurt so fucking bad that the boy was standing in front of you, laying himself on the line and blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault. It hurt because no matter what you did, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth and tell him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that his agreement to your comment struck a nerve. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that you were feeling stupidly self-deprecating when you made the comment in the first place and his response just felt like he kicked you when you were down.
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the countless articles. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the comments made throughout your life, throughout your brothers’ careers, throughout your own career.
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that he had practically chained himself to a PR manager’s worst fucking nightmare with no way out any time soon.
You couldn’t bring yourself to say any of it. Not when you hadn’t even confessed half of your feelings to the people in the other room. Not when a part of you was scared he would agree with every single fear that laid lingering in the back of your head.
“It wasn’t your fault,” you finally managed to say, and something quite like relief washed over the boy when he realised you were actually answering him, that you weren’t going to run off and hide in another room like you had done before. “Just…it was something else that upset me. Not you. I promise. You did nothing wrong, Max.”
The concern returned. “What upset you?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you said simply, and you were grateful enough that the boy dropped the topic—even if he wasn’t particularly happy about it. “We have a dinner to enjoy. It’s not worth ruining when Maman has spent all day making sure Charles didn’t slip some arsenic into your soup.”
Max snorted, shaking his head. A few beats passed before he squeezed your arms slightly. “We’re good?”
You smiled. “We’re good, Max.”
He nodded, seemingly pleased with that response as he let out an exhale. “Good, because now you can come out and help me. If Arthur makes one more sex joke, I think Charles might serve my balls for dessert.”
You snorted. “Maman would have his balls on a plate first if he tried to ruin the dinner itinerary she set up.”
...
...
...
“Can we talk?”
Max paused what he was doing, the pile of dishes sitting in front of him from where he was trying to help tidy up after dinner moments ago. Despite Pascale’s insistence that he was a guest who didn’t need to assist, Max still found himself joining the oddly domestic dance of working around the Leclerc’s to clean away the table and take everything back into the kitchen.
He could hear you and Arthur giggling in the other room, quickly followed by soft scolds from Pascale—the kind where you could still hear the smile in her voice. He could hear Lorenzo stepping outside for a phone call, his voice muffled by the balcony whilst Arthur made some joke that he was probably going to throw himself off after watching his baby sister make heart eyes at her husband all night. That was followed by another scolding from Pascale.
There was an odd sense of contentment deep in his chest as he collected the last of the dishes on the dining table when he heard somebody step into the room, expecting it just to be Pascale or maybe even you.
He wasn’t expecting Charles.
“Uh, yeah,” the Dutchman muttered, shifting around so he was facing the boy instead. “What’s up?” He almost cringed at his own words the second they left his mouth.
“Tell me this isn’t a tactic.”
Max paused, wondering for a few moments if he had heard the boy correctly. However, Charles didn’t seem to repeat himself as he stood there on the other side of the table, staring blankly at the Dutchman as he waited for his response.
“What?”
“Tell me that this whole thing isn’t just some ploy made up by Red Bull,” Charles said, his face remaining straight as he spoke.
“What is a ploy? This dinner?” Max questioned, utterly baffled by the words leaving his mouth.
“I need you to tell me whether you are just messing with my sister as some weird, twisted way to get to me,” Charles said, his arms crossed over his chest. “I need you to tell me if this is some fucking game to you and your team.”
And Max’s stomach churned at the allegation.
He thought this was all planned. He thought Red Bull had sent him out like a spy to get involved with the Leclerc family and exploit them. He thought this didn’t mean shit to Max beyond a mind game to assure him the championship next year.
And the worst part was that Max could see why he would think that. If there was anyone who risked being his biggest competitor on track—car aside—it would be Charles. Not his own teammate. Not Mercedes. Not McLaren. It would be Charles Leclerc, like it had always been when they were younger.
It had always been Max Vertsappen versus Charles Leclerc. And it always would be until the end of their careers.
For Charles to assume it was one thing. But for Charles to actually believe Max would go through with something like that? To agree to such a plan?
The Dutchman couldn’t deny that it really fucking stung. It fucking stung that Charles assumed the worst of him—even if it was to protect his little sister—and it fucking stung to wonder if the other Leclerc’s assumed the same.
“Charles,” a disbelieving scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “I would never—”
“Because I don’t give two fucks about a championship if you are messing with my sister,” Charles interrupted. There was a rage in his eyes, a rage he had never witnessed in the boy before—not even during his worst races. “She cares deeply about people. She loves hard and fast. And if you become one of those people and break her heart?”
Max didn’t say anything.
“There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her,” he said in a softer voice, but the underlying threat was still clear. “And there is nobody I wouldn’t hurt if they hurt her.”
“This isn’t some mind game,” Max said to the boy, because he didn’t think the boy would believe anything else he said. “Vegas was a mess, I know that. But I would never do something like this. And I would never bring your sister into our rivalry or on-track business.”
Charles’ jaw clenched a little, like he was contemplating whether he believed Max or not.
And for a few moments, Max wondered what would happen if he confessed his true feelings. He wondered what the Monagasque would say if he learnt that Max had spent the better part of their early careers either trying to beat him in a kart or ogling his sister. He wondered what Charles would think if Max told him he was almost pretty sure his little sister was his first love, even when they didn’t have a proper conversation until Charles finally joined Formula One.
Max wondered what Charles would think if he knew the truth.
But now was not the time nor the place to tell him. To be completely honest, Max didn’t think it would ever be the time or place to tell him. He didn’t think he would ever confess that to Charles, he didn’t think there was any reason to. There was only one person in this world that deserved to hear his confession, but Max would rather throw himself in front of the RB19 before he told you how he felt.
“I swear on my life, my cats’ lives and my mother’s life,” he added after a few moments, watching as the boy’s shoulders sagged a little like he finally realised Max was telling the truth.
“Good,” Charles nodded, pausing for a few moments. “I mean everything I said. For as long as it takes to sort out this mess, if you even upset her once, I swear to God—”
“Image loud and clear, Charles,” Max assured the boy with a single nod of his head.
“Good. Remember it, Verstappen.”
And with that, he left the room and left Max staring blankly at the pile of dishes on the table, a dull ache in his chest that he wasn’t really sure how to ease.
...
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 372,933 others
yourusername breaking news: max verstappen does wear something other than red bull merch!!!
view all 17,932 comments
landonorris how much did you have to pay him to wear it?
danielricciardo he had a bit of a tantrum before he left the house but i promised him two bedtime stories
maxverstappen1 you both suck
user OMG THE DINNER ACTUALLY HAPPENED
user meeting the in-laws!!!
user okay but those flowers are so pretty???
pascaleleclerc it was lovely having you, max! we must make these a regular thing!
charles_leclerc MAMAN???????
user this is my roman empire fr
user i need to know how close charles was to poisoning max
arthur_leclerc so close
maxverstappen1 i do own other clothes. you've just not seen them yet
yourusername is that an invite, mr verstappen?
oscarpiastri there are children on this app. please.
yourusername what children
logansargeant ME! I AM CHILDREN! THIS IS HORRIBLE!
yourusername grow up
user this is everything i needed and more
user okay but when do we get the solo max and little leclerc dinner date?
yourusername i would like to know too. my husband is lacking
maxverstappen1 maybe i'll wear my red bull polo
yourusername i take it back, i don't want to go out to dinner with you
.
#max verstappen#formula one#f1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen fic#max verstappen one shot#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one one shot#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 one shot
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It's Official! A New Season is Coming!
#A Small World#A Small World Seasonal Series#A Small World Universe#Books by Ufuomaee#Christian fiction#Hot New Release#marriage#New Year&039;s Eve#relationships#Saga#Season Five#The Church Girl
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undercover verstappen | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem verstappen!reader
get you a girlfriend who will threaten mutiny to get you a seat at a competent team
based on this request: HI BABES I HOPE YOU ARE WELL! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM! So basically I have an idea for a (possible?) Smau series, so basically it's Charles leclerc × verstappen!reader, she is a reserve driver for redbull but is also maxs race engineer (idk if you call it that? The person that talks to them that one) so she's very involved with the team and f1 in general. The public doesn't know that her and Charles are dating, and they don't even think it as Charles and max "hate" eachother (they are both doing this to protect readers and Charles relationship, they are actually besties) and basically, reader has enough if ferraris tractor, so she's like 'I will get you too redbull' and then checo retires at the end of the 2023 season, and instead of taking the job when she was offered it, she asks if Charles could have it (obviously not publicised) and Christian is like "Yes very good idea" so he asks Charles who is uncertain at first but is then OK with the idea (he is worried about becoming a second driver to max but there is lots of reassuring that he won't be nd so he accepts) and then he goes on to win 2024 wdc (and wcc but irrelevant) and he's sad that he couldn't do it with ferrari omg that's long sorry babes - @lillians-world-is-f1
MASTERLIST | TIPS | F1 SMALL BUSINESS
redbullracing
liked by maxverstappen, yourusername and 1,390,887 others
tagged: schecoperez
redbullracing: checo has informed the team that he will be retiring from the sport at the end of the 2023 season. we thank checo for his service and all the good times, he will forever be a legend of this sport. VAMOS CHECO 👏
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user1: EXCUSE ME?
user2: they really thought they could drop this on a monday and we'd all be chill
maxverstappen1: i've heard tequila tastes even better when you're retired, congrats mate - we'll miss you
user3: wait does this mean it'll be double verstappen on the grid now?
user4: there's more than one of them?
user5: max's sister is the girl you'll hear on his radio and she's technically the reserve driver as well. so she might step up to the second seat now checo has retired
user6: idk about you but that spells trouble to me
yourusername: congrats checo! will miss you, carola and all the little ones x
schecoperez: you won't be able to get rid of them that easily, i'll be cashing in on some well earned babysitting hours
yourusername: can't wait !!!
user7: what i'm hearing is that there's a chance for a daniel return to red bull?
user8: double verstappen or maxiel i don't want to choose they're both my children
user9: i'm making an outside shout for a charles leclerc red bull era
user10: i am seeing the lestappen vision
user11: my personal headcanon is that both verstappens and charles are all besties and have always been besties
christianhorner: thank you for your service checo, first drink on me 👍
user12: i know christian is sweating having to make a choice between child no 2 y/n and child no 3 daniel
user13: idk i think daniel might have the edge
user14: if geri or max have anything to do with it we might have a team so dutch that the car will be orange next season
user15: christian punching the walls cause lando extended his mclaren contract literally last week 😭
EXCERPT OF RECORDING OF THE RED BULL GARAGE, ABU DHABI
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 892,309 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: verstappens take the city
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user18: i just know they are simultaneously the best people to party with but also the people you probably don’t want at a house party
yourusername: i’ll have you know i once plunged a toilet at a house party and disposed of a “sick sandwich” i am a DELIGHT
user19: and max?
yourusername: no comment
maxverstappen1: as if ! i don’t care if we’re blood im suing you for slander
yourusername: i watched you volley a vase at AD21
maxverstappen1: i paid for it !!! and you said it was a sick shot anyway FAKE
yourusername: you can say that cause personally i was not at fault of any of my actions that night x
user20: PLEASE MA'AM AT LEAST ONE SEASON OF DOUBLE TROUBLE PLEASE
user21: idk if i could deal with seeing jos verstappen every weekend tho...
user22: obsessed with how neither verstappen follow charles but here he be in her notifications again
user23: someone add it to the interaction spreadsheet i am CONVINCED it will one day lead to more
landonorris: lando norris erasure once again
user24: DID YOU WRITE THAT NOTE???
landonorris: hell no i'd rather peel my skin off than call the three raccoons disguised as a woman pretty
yourusername: good gosh we would've got the point without all of that
maxverstappen1: yeah lando only i'm allowed to call y/n the raccoons in a trench coat. know your place.
user25: so you do wanna tell us who wrote the note then?
yourusername: nope ;p
user26: only y/n and max have been spotted out so maybe it's just brotherly love
user27: LOL? MAX? BROTHERLY LOVE?
danielricciardo: invite seemed to get lost in the mail again
yourusername: either get a room or get out of my comment section
maxverstappen1: ???
user28: no maxiel red bull again. i don't think y/n's blood pressure can take it
f1
liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,544,924 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1
f1: ready to see them as teammates? charles leclerc has signed a deal with red bull to keep him at the team until 2028.
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user29: excuse me *clears throat* WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
redbullracing: welcome charles!!! no inchidents please
charles_leclerc: will we ever hear the end of that joke?
redbullracing: we know what the girlies want charles
maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while. no ice bath thirst traps here though
charles_leclerc: phew 😥
user30: this little hoe pretending he didn't love it
user31: wait ??? does this mean what i think it could mean? GIRLFRIEND?
user32: i can't take leaving ferrari and a girlfriend in one day sorry
yourusername: welcome to the team charles :)
user33: don't think we forgot about the recording babe... IS THIS WHO YOU RECOMMENED?
danielricciardo: it better not be because if you recommended your lil boyfriend over sexy ol' me i'm gonna be real mad 😭
this comment was deleted
user34: WE SAW THAT WHAT THE FUCK
maxverstappen1: daniel you are so fucking dumb
yourusername: MAX? IGNORE IT?
maxverstappen1: bro it's all over twitter you might as well take the moment to curse out daniel before christian confiscates our phones
yourusername: DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO YOU RAT BASTARD I'M GONNA RIP WHATEVER REMAINING HAIR YOU HAVE LEFT AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR SURPRISINGLY PERKY ASS. IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT YOU AND YOUR CHILD BEARING HIPS WILL NEVER GET CLOSE TO A RED BULL EVER AGAIN FOR EXPOSING A SECRET US THREE HAVE KEPT FOR SEVEN FUCKING YEARS
charles_leclerc: what she said
maxverstappen1: oop.
user35: well. can we keep going this is quite fun.
christianhorner: they're all in time out sorry
user36: okay well now that happened... when can we get "who knows me better my boyfriend or my brother" lestappen version 🤨
charles_leclerc: i would wipe the floor with him
maxverstappen1: of course you would you BIG FAT NERD
charles_leclerc: i thought christian took your phone?
maxverstappen1: as if he doesn't fall for the verstappen puppy dog eyes every time
charles_leclerc: you'll use them for me right babe, RIGHT BABE?
yourusername: idk charlie, this is family business
christianhorner: i've taken their phones again
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,304,555 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1
yourusername: my favourite men in the world doing what they do best
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user37: take me out back and shoot me already
christianhorner: interesting i don't see myself here and considering i pay your wages...
yourusername: dads go in different categories?
christianhorner: don't use my paternal instincts against me y/n
yourusername: say goodbye to your father's day card
christianhorner: NO I'M SORRY
user38: the way this proves that second red bull really was y/n's ...
user39: for real imagine loving a MAN so much you give it to HIM 🤮
user40: she also said in that recording at jos made it so bad for the two of them when they did compete that she no longer wanted to give the fans and the media the chance to do it either
charles_leclerc: oh wow that's crazy, you're my favourite woman ever
yourusername: don't be so rude to mama pascale
charles_leclerc: well other than mama obvioysly
yourusername: so i'm not your favourite, i see how it is
charles_leclerc: I AM SO CONFUSED SO I'M JUST GONNA SAY I LOVE YOU
yourusername: awww charlie i love you too
user41: okay i've known about them approximately two weeks and i love them your honour
maxverstappen1: i'm so much better than him y/n be real
yourusername: don't be such a sore loser maxy
maxverstappen1: don't get it twisted, i still won on track
charles_leclerc: not for long
yourusername: okay girlies leave the trash talk for the weekends this is being normal for the sake of y/n's mental health time
user42: good lord this trio is so dear to me
maxverstappen1
liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,043,788 others
tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc
maxverstappen1: best thing about winning is choosing the restaurant after - closely followed about the worst thing: third wheeling them.
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user43: max coming through with the y/n and charles content as he should
user44: i need him to open the vault cause i have not forgotten that y/n said this relationship is seven years old
yourusername: i think i had a wet dream about this sushi spread last night
maxverstappen1: as long as that's it, good.
yourusername: i don't need to have wet dreams anymore, the real thing is so much better
maxverstappen1: BLOCKED.
user45: i know y/n is elated to be able to publicly terrorise max with her relationship
user46: so does this mean that this is a system they've had for a while?
yourusername: room service is our middle names
charles_leclerc: maximilian can you please send the last pic to the shared album
maxverstappen1: on it 🫡
user47: SHARED ALBUM? I MIGHT DIE
yourusername: you two are such cutie patooties
maxverstappen1: but for real no being so cute on my jet again or just wait for me to go for my nap
charles_leclerc: heard and understood
yourusername: or maybe just get a life and stop being so lonely
danielricciardo: can i join for sushi or am i still banned?
maxverstappen1: eh, you could take y/n in a scrap
danielricciardo: she read my ass for filth on main i'm scared of her
charles_leclerc: she had you gagged
danielricciardo: and this litlle guard puppy agrees with whatever she says :(
yourusername: as he should !
maxverstappen1: don't try and fight it daniel, i've been in this losing battle for seven years
charles_leclerc
liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,834,903 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: life in blue could never be blue with you. i love you baby, thank you for giving me this opportunity, every trophy is for you x
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user48: GOD PLEASE SAVE ME PLEASE GOD SAVE ME FROM THIS SINGLE LIFE.
yourusername: i love you too charlie, i'd do everything and more for you. i'm happy you're happy x
charles_leclerc: you can't get rid of me at this point
yourusername: seven years strong, i'm stuck to you like glue
charles_leclerc: you'll have my last name (or i can take yours) next
maxverstappen1: you can give her a ring but you'll NEVER TAKE THE VERSTAPPEN NAME AWAY
yourusername: you good?
maxverstappen1: yeah but we must always be double trouble. not even THAT man will come between that
user49: this is the trio of my dreams i need a whole drive to survive ep or even spin off just following these losers around
danielricciardo: see how could you be angry that i would want to talk about all this cuteness ?
yourusername: we are cute, correct.
charles_leclerc: i'd use the words incredibly sexy but okay
danielricciardo: are you guys still angry? I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOU
yourusername: we forgive you daniel.
charles_leclerc: i was also kissing her on my first podium REGARDLESS
yourusername: you're so romantic 🥰
maxverstappen1: GAG.
user50: convinced that max will still be the biggest big brother asshole until he is in the retirement home
alexalbon: flexing the alex albon and lily mun he photography i see
yourusername: thank you for your service
lilymunhe: we can also keep a secret 🤫
danielricciardo: I SAID I WAS SORRY
charles_leclerc: we're gonna hold it over you forever buddy
danielricciardo: was taking the red bull seat not enough?
charles_leclerc: until i win a championship? yes.
fin.
note: I'M BACK!! hope this was what you were looking for xx also, if you guys ever want to support me in any way i have a tip jar on kofi and also my small business @badlydrawnf1cats that has a sticker sheet available right now - love you all xx
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc social media au
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Text
Breaking the Ice
Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics
Lando Norris x Räikkönen!Reader
Summary: a boy who never shuts up meets a girl who rarely wastes the energy to speak … it doesn’t go as expected (or in which not having much to say runs in the Räikkönen family)
Lando shifts his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting nervously as he awaits the arrival of the other drivers for the pre-season press conference. His gaze darts around the stark concrete room, taking in the harsh lighting and the row of empty chairs on the raised platform.
This is his sixth season in Formula 1, but the thrill of the new year and the prospect of racing still sends butterflies fluttering through his stomach. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.
The door opens and you stride in, Valtteri Bottas at your side. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to you, the rookie driver already capturing attention despite your quiet presence. You move with the casual confidence of someone who has grown up in this world, unbothered by the lights and cameras.
Lando finds himself staring, captivated by the way you carry yourself. The famously reserved Räikkönen genes clearly run through your veins.
Before Lando can gather his wits to introduce himself, you slide into the chair at the end of the row, Valtteri taking the seat next to you. Lando blinks, realizing he’s been caught gawking.
Smooth, Norris. Real smooth.
He clears his throat and makes his way over, mustering his most charming grin. “Hi there! Lando Norris. Welcome to the circus.”
You turn towards him, your expression unreadable. For a beat, you simply regard him in silence. Then, “Hey.”
You give a small nod of acknowledgment before turning away, effectively shutting down the conversation. Lando’s smile falters as you refocus your attention on … absolutely nothing at all.
Well, that’s a bit rude. He frowns, stung by the brush-off. So much for breaking the ice. Maybe you’re just shy around new people? Lando decides to give you the benefit of the doubt as the other drivers begin filing in.
He takes his seat a few chairs away, sneaking sidelong glances at you. You haven’t so much as glanced in his direction again, adopting the same thousand-yard stare as the Iceman.
Like father, like daughter, Lando muses with a shake of his head.
When the press conference gets underway, question after question is lobbed at the drivers. Lando fields them with his usual charismatic charm, unable to resist hamming it up for the cameras with comedic flair. In contrast, you remain stubbornly curt whenever the mic is passed your way.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“I don’t know.”
Your terse responses draw titters of laughter from the audience and press corps alike. Lando watches in amazement, unable to fathom how anyone could be so … so ...
“Boring?” He blurts out before he can stop himself.
You cut your eyes towards him, holding his gaze for the first time since your noncommittal greeting. Lando feels himself flush, suddenly uncertain if he’s been too cheeky. But then the corners of your mouth tug up in an unmistakable smirk before you turn away again, leaving him to wonder if he’s imagined it.
By the time the press conference mercifully ends, Lando has decided you’re definitely an odd duck. But also … kind of fascinating? In an eccentric, robotic sort of way? He’s not sure what to make of his swirling thoughts as you all rise to make your exit.
Lando hangs back, angling to get one more shot at conversation. “Hey, uh, Y/N? I know you’re still getting your feet wet here, but if you ever need any advice or, you know, someone to show you the ropes, I’m always around.”
You pause, glancing back at him over your shoulder. For a fleeting second, Lando thinks he detects … what? Amusement? Disbelief? It’s impossible to tell with your trademark poker face firmly in place.
“Thanks,” you reply, your tone mild. “But I’m good.”
And with that, you pivot on your heel and stride away, leaving Lando to stare after you.
“Huh,” he mutters to himself. So much for breaking the ice.
As the next couple of days of testing wear on, Lando can’t seem to get a read on you. Oh, you’re perfectly courteous whenever your paths happen to cross in the paddock. You’ll return his greetings with a respectful nod or murmur of acknowledgment.
But that’s as far as it goes. You’re polite, but also totally inscrutable. Lando has no idea what you make of him, or really anything at all that might be going on inside that head of yours. All he knows is that his curiosity about you has been thoroughly piqued.
One morning, Lando spies you sitting alone, sipping from a a mug of coffee as you study a stack of data printouts. He ambles over, determined to try chatting you up again.
“Y/N! How’s it going?” His voice is cheerfully upbeat. “That coffee from the hotel? Because let me tell you, it’s rubbish. If you want a proper brew, you’ve got to venture out and find a decent cafe. I know all the best spots around here if you’d like some recommendations ...”
He trails off as you simply look up at him, silent and unblinking. Lando clears his throat, feeling oddly off-kilter beneath your steady regard.
“Anyway,” he blusters on, undeterred. “How are you finding testing so far? Not too overwhelming, I hope? If you ever want to debrief or go over data or anything, I’m happy to lend an ear. Or even an eye, I suppose, since it’s more looking at numbers than listening to-”
“Bwoah.”
The single syllable cuts through Lando’s babbling. You set down your coffee and rise to your feet in one effortless, graceful movement. Lando blinks in surprise as you turn and walk away without another word.
“Oh. Erm. Sure, just … ignore me then,” he mutters, feeling his cheeks flush hotly.
He shakes his head as you disappear around the corner, baffled by your total indifference. But then a wry chuckle escapes his lips as the truth dawns on him with crystal clarity.
You’re not rude or shy at all. That’s just … who you are. Curt, to the point, unconcerned with frivolous chitchat and social niceties. You’ve got laser-focus, and nothing is going to distract you from your pursuit of speed.
In that moment, Lando feels a swell of admiration. He gets it now — you’re carved from the same uncompromising bedrock as your old man. Refreshingly authentic without any affectations or pretense.
Most people would find your blunt aloofness off-putting. But not Lando. No, he finds the prospect of unraveling the mystery that is Y/N Räikkönen irresistibly intriguing.
He grins to himself as he ambles off to get ready for his own session out on track. Just you wait, Y/N. He’s going to get you to crack a smile yet, even if it kills him.
After all, whoever said being a woman of few words was a bad thing?
***
Lando is in the middle of his pre-race routine, trying to center his mind and get into the zone, when you appear out of nowhere and thrust something at him.
“Here,” you say brusquely.
He blinks, puzzled, as he registers the scraggly bundle of wildflowers gripped in your fist. They look like they’ve been unceremoniously ripped out of the dirt, roots, soil and all.
“Uh … what’s this?” Lando asks.
You meet his confused gaze head on, your expression typically unreadable. “Flowers. For you.”
“For me?” Lando repeats dumbly. He glances around, as if expecting a hidden camera crew to jump out at any second. “Are you … giving me these?”
“No, I’m giving them to the other idiot who won’t stop yapping at me every single day,” you deadpan.
Lando feels his cheeks grow warm at the mild rebuke. He knows you’re referring to his persistent, if extremely one-sided attempts at conversation over the past few weeks. All his friendly openings and invitations have been met with a string of indifferent brush-offs and noncommittal hums.
Can’t blame a guy for trying, right? At least he’s being polite, which is more than he can say for-
“Well?” You break into his thoughts, arching one coolly expectant brow. “Are you wooed or not?”
This time it’s Lando’s turn to stare at you blankly. “I’m … sorry, what?”
“Wooed,” you repeat flatly. “You said the girl of your dreams would woo you with flowers or some nonsense. So I got you flowers.” You give the bedraggled bouquet a little shake for emphasis. “Now you’re wooed. Happy?”
It takes a moment for the words to click into place in Lando’s brain. Then a strangled laugh bursts from his lips as he remembers the foolish, offhand comment he made in an interview a few days ago. He’d been prattling on about his imaginary ideal partner, somehow painting the ridiculous picture of himself being “wooed” like some lovestruck Victorian lady.
Leave it to you to take the whole ludicrous scenario at face value. Lando can’t decide if he’s more charmed or bewildered by the fact that you’ve actually gone to the trouble of physically wooing him with … weeds?
“You cannot be serious right now,” he sputters out between residual chuckles.
You simply stand there, utterly unfazed as you hold out the world’s saddest excuse for a bouquet expectantly. “Well? Am I doing it right or not?”
“Doing what right?” Lando shakes his head, chortling again. “This whole wooing business? Y/N, that was just me rambling on like an idiot, as usual. You didn’t actually have to-”
“But I did,” you interject, effectively cutting off his protests. “So. Are. You. Wooed?”
Lando opens his mouth, then closes it again as he searches for the right response. There’s no menace or mockery in your expression, just that same intense focus and matter-of-fact bluntness that you apply to everything. Somehow, he gets the distinct impression that you won’t be deterred until he gives you a straight answer.
“Uh … no?” He ventures at last. “N-Not really, I guess?”
You stand there for a beat, Processing his words. Then you give a curt nod of acknowledgment. “Okay. That’s a you problem.”
With that, you turn smartly on your heel and stride away, leaving Lando gaping after you in a stupor. He stares down at the shoddy little bundle of greenery still clutched in his hand, not sure whether to laugh or just shake his head in amazed disbelief.
“A ‘me’ problem?” he mutters, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “Well, you’ve got me there, Y/N.”
Because the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that you respecting him enough to even entertain his absurd hypothetical … that might just be his new favorite problem.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening as Lando brings his car across the finish line in fourth place. Not his best result, but respectable points in the bag. He allows himself a tight smile as he peels into the pit lane and kills the engine.
Until the unmistakable bright green and black livery of your Kick Sauber fills his vision, that is.
Lando does a double take, his jaw dropping as the implication sinks in. No way. There’s absolutely no way you’ve … you’ve won this race, right? In that underpowered, aerodynamically-challenged shitbox?
He can scarcely believe his eyes as you glide to a stop behind the large “1” board. The cheers and applause swelling around the track leave no doubt — somehow, against all odds, you’ve just taken the top step of the podium.
Lando scrambles out of his own car, tugging off his helmet and balaclava as he hustles across parc fermé in a daze. The first thing he notices is the sheer confusion and shock etched onto the faces of everyone else milling around. Even the marshals look gobsmacked by this upset for the ages.
In the middle of the chaos, you’re casually unfurling yourself from the cockpit with your trademark nonchalance. Like this is just another ho-hum Sunday drive for Y/N Räikkönen instead of, you know, the most spectacular overachievement in recent Formula 1 history.
Lando stands there gaping at you, unable to fully process what’s just happened. He vaguely registers the rest of the top finishers pulling in around you, their body language radiating bewilderment and disbelief as they all turn to stare, dumbstruck.
No one can quite seem to believe that an underdog backmarker has just eclipsed them all in a car that typically struggles to score points, let alone wins.
For your part, you’re projecting indifference to the chaos swirling around you. You simply grab a water bottle and take a long, unhurried pull, seemingly oblivious to the escalating frenzy.
Then, you casually turn in Lando’s direction and arch one brow ever-so-slightly. A silent question.
“I … you ...” Lando sputters uselessly, his brain still stuttering to catch up. “Did you seriously just ...”
The corners of your lips quirk upwards, hinting at a suppressed grin. “Well?” You prompt him calmly. “Are you wooed yet or what?”
It takes a moment for the light to flicker on in Lando’s mind. Any other time, he’d be delighted by the playful ribbing, eager to keep the back-and-forth banter flowing.
But right now, something else cuts through the haze of astonishment clouding his thoughts.
“Wait … is this ...” Lando squints at you searchingly. “Did you just win this race … for me?”
The words slip out before he can stop them. Because that would be such an impossibly, endearingly you thing to do, wouldn’t it? To dedicate achieving the unachievable all because of an offhand remark about wanting to be wooed?
His heart does a strange little flip-flop at the mere idea of you going to such outlandishly romantic lengths, all for the sake of who-even-knows-what is brewing between you two these days.
For a long beat, you simply stare back at him, your expression unreadable as ever. Then, “What?” You let out a faintly derisive snort. “No, of course not. Why would I do that?”
The words detonate like a slap in the face, momentarily winding Lando with their blunt force. “Oh. Well, I just thought maybe since I mentioned the whole wooing thing, and then you ...”
You shake your head impatiently, cutting him off. “You’re not the one who won this race, Lando.”
With that, you turn on your heel and stride away, dismissing him with a curt finality. Lando is left speechless, mouth agape as he watches your retreating back.
Around him, the rest of the drivers and crew are still buzzing with perplexed whispers and incredulous looks. No one can seem to wrap their minds around what they’ve just witnessed.
A sudden boom of laughter from Stake F1 Team Kick Sauber garage shatters the tension. Lando glances over to see your grizzled race engineer doubled over, tears of mirth streaming down his face as he wheezes helplessly.
“That’s my girl!” He chortles, shaking his head in amazed delight. “Leave it to a Räikkönen to blow the entire fuckin’ field away and just shrug it off like it’s no big deal!”
Lando feels the corner of his own mouth twitch upwards, the pinpricks of embarrassment fading as quickly as they flared. Of course he wasn’t on your mind out there today — you’re a laser-focused competitor brimming with the same single-minded intensity as your father. No thoughts, just pure, unbridled velocity.
You don’t crave grandstanding or glory, you’re simply out there doing what you were born to do, with ruthless, unsentimental precision. No fuss, no frills. Just inevitable, undeniable greatness through sheer force of will.
For now, that’s more than enough to leave him feeling utterly, deliriously, irrevocably … wooed.
***
Lando flops back on the hotel bed with a contented sigh, still basking in the post-race glow. P3 on the podium is a stellar result, made even sweeter by the fact that you claimed second place.
He grins lazily as you emerge from the en-suite bathroom, having shed your team wear in favor of a comfy t-shirt and shorts. Even with your hair tied up in a messy bun and your face scrubbed free of makeup, you’re still the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on.
“There’s the champion,” he rumbles affectionately, reaching out to snag your wrist and tug you down onto the bed beside him. You allow yourself to be pulled into the circle of his arms with a quiet huff of amusement.
“I didn’t win, you dork,” you point out mildly, making no move to extract yourself from his embrace. “That was Max on the first step today, not me.”
“Mmm, true.” Lando hums his agreement, nuzzling against the crown of your head. “But you’ll get there again soon enough. Then we can really celebrate.”
He punctuates the promise with a languid kiss, smiling against your lips as you melt into him with a soft sigh of contentment. These tender, unguarded moments are rapidly becoming his favorite part of any race weekend.
You allow the liplock to linger for a few long, blissful seconds before finally pulling back with a faint smirk. “Speaking of celebrating ...”
Then, without any hesitation whatsoever, you deftly roll off the mattress and sink down onto your knees in one fluid motion, effectively pitching Lando’s heart rate into a gallop.
“Whoa, hey now,” he sputters out a nervous chuckle, propping himself up on his elbows to gawk down at you in surprise. “What are you doing down there, trouble?”
Rather than answering directly, you simply arch one eloquent brow and ask, “Are you wooed yet?”
Lando blinks, needing a second to parse your meaning. Then a bark of laughter escapes before he can stop it, finally realizing where this is going. “Oh my god, you cannot be serious right now. Are we really still doing that stupid bit?”
There’s no missing the impish glint in your eye as you regard him from your knees, clearly quite pleased with yourself for managing to get the upper hand. “Well? I’m waiting for an answer here.”
Lando shakes his head in amazed disbelief, unable to smother his grin. “Y/N, love, you have got to be the most impossible woman on the planet sometimes.” He reaches down to brush an errant lock of hair out of your eyes, cradling your face tenderly. “But lucky for you, it’s impossibly charming as hell.”
You lean into the caress ever so slightly, regarding him with an impish glint. “So? Do you feel wooed yet or not?”
Something warm and gooey blossoms in Lando’s chest as he studies your features — the amused quirk of your lips, the slight flush on your cheeks, the fire dancing in your eyes. You’re such an endearing contradiction, managing to be the most formidably stoic badass on the racetrack while also being irresistibly playful when it’s just the two of you.
“Y/N ...” he starts, a bemused chuckle rumbling from his lips. He presses a kiss to your forehead, relishing your quiet hum of approval. “You do realize you don’t have to keep trying to woo me anymore, right?”
You blink up at him, your brow furrowing slightly as you process his words. “What are you talking about?”
Lando nods towards the pillow behind him, gesturing vaguely. “The flowers. The race win. All the coy banter and teasing.” He grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Pretty sure that ship has sailed at this point, love.”
You continue to stare at him with a blank look, like he’s suddenly started speaking in tongues. The lack of comprehension on your face is so unguarded and genuine that it makes Lando’s grin slowly slip.
Hold on … could it be that you actually don’t realize-
“Hey,” he asks slowly, hardly daring to breathe. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, but … I thought after the whole flower thing, we kind of … you know ...”
He trails off helplessly, not sure how to broach the subject in case he’s somehow misread everything completely. Your brow remains furrowed, making him abruptly hyper aware of the fact that your lithe form is literally kneeling at his feet while wearing very little clothing.
A pregnant pause stretches between you, thick with confused tension. Then-
“Oh my god,” you blurt out, your eyes going comically wide as the pieces finally click into place. “Did you think we were … dating? All this time?”
Lando chokes on his own tongue, too stunned to respond right away. He simply gapes at you, feeling like the world’s biggest moron for somehow operating under the wrong assumption for … how long, exactly?
Now that he’s thinking back, neither of you ever explicitly defined what was brewing between you two ... you just sort of started spending more and more time together, growing more and more intimately intertwined until … well ...
Suddenly he’s laughing, helpless peals of mirth bubbling up from his core as the truth dawns on him. All this time, you two have essentially been a couple of awkward teenagers muddling through the beginning stages of a relationship, the wires of communication getting hopelessly crossed along the way.
But oh man, of course it somehow ended up going down like this between you two. Why would he have expected anything less idiotically convoluted?
You’re chuckling too, the laughter rippling through your body in delightfully unreserved waves as you sway back on your heels. And just like that, the last lingering hint of tension dissolves from the air as you surrender to the hilarity of it all.
“So … I’m just gonna go ahead and take that as a no then,” Lando finally manages to gasp out between wheezing chuckles.
“Well that would depend,” you shoot back, your eyes bright with mischief. You shift forward onto your knees, leaning in close enough for him to feel the teasing rasp of your breath against his lips. “Because according to you, I’m already spoken for.”
Lando’s laughter cuts off with a soft groan as your nose brushes teasingly against his thigh, his palms finding their way to your hips as if by muscle memory. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” He accuses without any real heat.
“Nope,” you agree matter-of-factly before capturing his lips in a searing kiss.
He loses himself in the velvet glide of your mouths for endless minutes, his fingertips tracing maddening patterns across the sliver of exposed skin at your waist. When you finally break apart, you’re both panting softly, gazes locked in a heated stalemate.
“So ...” Lando murmurs at last, his lips brushing deliciously against yours with every word. “If we haven’t actually been dating this whole time, then what would you call … this?” He sweeps one hand up in a languid caress, hinting at the incredible tangle you’ve both willingly stumbled into.
“Hmm ...” You press another series of featherlight kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, leaving him shivering. “How about … badly in need of remedial communication skills?”
Lando bursts out laughing again — because really, is there any more succinct way to sum up the two of you? He tugs you up onto his lap, cupping the back of your head and crushing your lips back to his in a heated clash of teeth and tongues.
You willingly arch against him with a throaty sigh, hands roaming possessively across his chest. The two of you are a whirlwind of tangled limbs and shared laughter and scorching friction.
It’s all so achingly, impossibly right that Lando can hardly stand it. But as you meet his heated gaze, chests heaving and eyes sparking with unspoken promises, Lando finds he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when the payoff is stealing heated moments like these, all tangled up in each other with boundless laughter and blazing passion.
“Y/N ...” he murmurs reverently, tracing the curve of your smiling lips with the pad of his thumb. “I adore you. You incredible, impossible woman.”
You lean into the caress with a soft hum, covering his hand with yours to hold him there. “So what now?” You arch a playful brow. “Are you officially wooed or do you need some more convincing?”
With a low growl, he abruptly flips you both over onto the mattress in one fluid movement. You let out a startled squeak quickly swallowed by his questing mouth as he settles between your parted thighs, pinning you to the sheets.
You arch up to meet him in a slick glide of fevered skin, clutching him close. Through it all, your soft laughter never ceases — bubbling up in breathless peals of delight that Lando hungrily drinks in.
Yeah, he’s pretty damn wooed all right. But from this moment forward, he’s going to spend every second making damn sure you never have to ask again.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lando norris#ln4#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#lando norris one shot#lando norris drabble
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i have a name | l.s
a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister
summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much
Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'
But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.
Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.
The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.
"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.
"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.
"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.
You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."
Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.
You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.
It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.
"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.
"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.
"That bad huh?"
"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."
The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.
"You get used to it." You shrugged.
"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."
"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.
"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.
"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.
"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.
You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."
-x-
"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.
"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.
He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"
"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.
You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.
"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"
"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.
"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."
Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."
"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.
It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.
Y/N:
Thank you again for tonight.
His response was quick making your stomach flutter.
Logan:
You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N
Y/N:
I know
I enjoyed talking to you tonight
So thank you for your company 😊
Logan:
I enjoyed talking to you too 😊
I hope we can do it again some time
You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.
Y/N:
I would love to ☺️
Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙
Logan:
Good luck Y/N 😊
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Paddock Bunny Series - 1
AN - Yay! I'm so happy for the first post to my new series! I hope you like it and if you have any ideas of what you want to see happen in the world of Y/N Brown feel free to message me with your ideas! I have nothing planned for this series and no real end goal so this could be 10 chapters long to 100 chapters long just depends on how much you guys like it!
Happy Birthday to Lando!!
Drivers included:
Lando Norris x Reader
Carlos Sainz x Lando Norris x Reader (not every chapter will have a threesome but it was necessary for the plot!)
TW - Squirting, multiple orgasms, oral (M and F receiving/giving), hickey, back scratches, protected sex, MxM (not all threesomes with have MxM), cum swallowing, cum swapping
WC - 4.1k +
Y/N POV
"Please let me take you home tonight," Lando slurs in my ear for a third time tonight.
"Lando, you're too drunk to sleep with your bosses daughter," I reply back softly making him groan.
"Please, just one night and we never have to talk about it again," Lando says making me laugh and shake my head.
"If you get your maiden win within the first 10 races of the season I'll let you take me home for a night," I reply back making Lando's face light up at the thought.
"Deal!" Lando smile and runs off making me laugh softly and shake my head knowing he would forget about it by morning.
Lando and I have known each other since his rookie season in Formula 1 and have been close friends since than. It was no secret that Lando and I both had some kind of tension between us but neither of us trying anything knowing how much of a grey area it is.
That was back in February before the season had even started and now it's just a few hours after Miami and Lando is texting me the room number to his hotel room.
"478, it't the suite on the left corner"
"I thought you would have forgotten about that night"
"I'd never forget the one chance to finally sleep with you"
I just roll my eyes at the short conversation before gathering my belongings and making my way to the driver who would be taking me back to the hotel all Mclaren employees were staying in.
When I walked through the Miami hotel I quickly make my way up to Lando's room following the directions he had sent me.,
"Hi," Lando says opening the door after I had just knocked.
"Hi," I smile back inviting myself in. I spent the first couple minutes in Lando's hotel just looking at him to nervous to make the first move.
"Do you want this?" Lando asks softly making me look up and nod softly.
"Ya, a deal is a deal," I reply softly making Lando's smile drop slightly before taking a few tentative steps towards me.
"No, that's not how consent works. Do you want to do it?" Lando asks stepping even closer so we were now face to face with each other.
Instead of responding I connect my hands behind his neck and pull him down for a kiss. Once the initial shock wears off Lando melts into the kiss wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer into his chest.
"Fuck, Lan," I moan softly when Lando squeezing my ass with his hands.
Lando's lips start trailing from my lips down to my neck where he spends special attention on my neck looking for my sweet spot and once he locates is just under my ear I let out a soft moan making Lando smirk before sinking his teeth down and sucking softly I'm sure leaving a small mark behind.
I feel Lando's arms wrap around my waist tighter before softly mumbling jump. Once I just softly I wrap my arms around his waist and letting him walk us towards the bedroom.
Once we get into the bedroom he lightly drops me down onto the bed before he slowly pulls his shirt from his body before letting it fall to the ground.
Once Lando's upper half was bare he slowly climbed into the bed and over my body letting himself gently sit on my thighs while he stares down at me before slowly pulling my shirt up my torso and helping me sit up softly so he can pull it off completely.
Once he discards the Mclaren team kit on the ground he get his first glimpse of my bare tits.
"Fuck," Lando whispers softly still staring right at my tits before he takes a tit in each hand and gives it a firm squeeze making me moan softly at the feeling.
"Sound so pretty," Lando whispers out more to himself than me but it didn't matter my cheeks reddened at the praise regardless.
"Lan, please," I whine softly trying to grind my hips up making me smirk before pushing my hips back down towards the bed denying me of the little stimulation I was getting.
"Patience, I've waited years for my chance, you can wait another few minutes to feel my tongue," Lando replies back making me whine at his words while trying to clench my thighs together but being stopped by Lando's sturdy body blocking them from closing fully.
"God, you are even more beautiful that I could have dreamed," Lando groans while softly rubbing his fingers up my sides making me whine softly and goosebumps to grow across my skin.
Once Lando had felt like he teased enough he slowly started pulling my black Mclaren issued skirt off before discarding it somewhere on the floor before running a teasing finger over the center of my thong making me suck in a breath at the feeling of his finger light touch running across my overly sensitive clit.
"Fuck, you're already soaked for me," Lando says with a soft smirk before roughly ripping my thong from my body making me gasp out loudly at the sting of the fabric tearing against my skin.
It was clear in the moment that any patience left in Lando has completely ran out and now the starved man in front of me was ready to have his first warm meal in over a year.
When the first flick of Lando's tongue was sent right over my clit I can't help but moan out and arch my back at the feeling.
"Fuck," I moan softly when I feel Lando's tongue flick over my clit again making me whimper.
"SO fucking responsive," Lando groans out before diving back into my soaked pussy.
"Oh Lando," I moan when I feel Lando start sucking my clit into his mouth. My hands were now tangled in Lando's hair gripping and pulling him impossibly closer.
"So sweet," Lando mumbles into my pussy making me whimper at the vibrations being sent straight to my clit.
I knew with how long it had been with the last time I had slept with someone and how good Lando was abusing my clit I knew I wasn't gonna last long.
"Fuck," I scream out softly when I feel two of Lando's long fingers slip into my soaked pussy filling me up and grazing my G-spot was perfect precision.
"I can tell you're already close," Lando says with a smirk spread across his face while he starts finger fucking me making me moan and arch my back off the bed again which has Lando using his hand to push me back into the bed before attaching his mouth to my clit and sucking.
"I'm gonna cum," I announce loudly while gripping tighter into Lando's now messy curls.
No sooner than the words leaving my mouth Lando instantly speeds up the actions with his fingers and sucking even harder on my clit almost instantly throwing me over the edge into a loudly messy orgasm that left me shaking under Lando.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant when I have no time to come down from the overwhelming pleasure because Lando and still fingering me with lighting speed.
"Oh shit," I moan when I feel a second orgasm approaching before the tightly wound band in my tummy snapped throwing me over the edge into a squirting orgasm.
"Fuck," Lando gasps amazed at the pleasure he just had coursing through my body.
"Holy fuck," I gasp when I look down and realize the mess I had caused but with the smug look on Lando's face the mess is the last thing on his mind right now.
Lando slowly climbs out of the bed and quickly takes off his pants and briefs in one go letting his hard length spring free. My eyes are instantly locked on the red angry tip that was already leaking precum.
"I want a taste," I announce timidly while letting my eyes flicker up to lock eyes with Lando where he's staring at me with a smirk spread across his face.
"I'm serious," I say while climbing out of bed and getting on my knees and instantly gripping onto Lando's cock making him hiss at the sensations.
I slowly bring my mouth to the tip of Lando's cock where I lick a strip collecting a bit of the precum from his cock and let the flavors linger on my tongue before I take his tip into my mouth and start sinking down taking more of his cock as I go.
"Fuck," Lando groans letting his hands tangle into my brunette hair.
I can't help but moan at the feeling of Lando's cock fill my mouth more than any man has ever.
Once my nose brushes against the trimmed patch of hair covering Lando's pelvic bone I can't help but look up to find Lando with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. When I slowly start bobbing my head with still looking up at Lando I notice the way his face pinches up at the pleasure before he moans softly and looks down locking eyes with me.
"Fuck, you're a sight to be been," Lando groans using the hands tangled in my hair to bob me up and down his cock faster.
"Fuck, I'm not gonna last long," Lando groans at the admission but it only makes me speed up my action on his cock. I bring my hand up to his balls and start playing with them which has Lando groaning and pushing me all the way down on his cock before he lets out a low groan before cumming deep into my throat making me gag slightly but still swallow what I can.
"Fuck," Lando groans slipping his cock from my lips and rubbing the spit and cum mixture across my mouth marking me with his cum, his way of marking his territory.
"You're so hot. Your swollen little lips covered in my cum," Lando leans down close to my face with a smirk on his face before the heat of the moment got the best of him and he takes my mouth in his tasting his own cum on his lips.
With Lando's lips still locked with mine he slowly picks me up off the ground before he gently places me on the bed near the edge where I feel his still hard cock rub against my clit making me moan.
When Lando pulls away still standing at the edge of the bed I go to whine when I see him grab a condom off the night stand making me raise a brow at him.
"It was the first thing I went out and bought when I won," Lando says with a boyish smile on his face clearly embarrassed to admit how excited he was.
"I appreciate the readiness," I tell him softly while I watch him roll the condom down his length before stepping between my spread thighs again and tearing my clit with his cock before slipping his length into my pussy making me whimper at the feeling.
"Fuck, so damn tight," Lando grits out between clenched teeth making me whimper at that the burning feeling of being stretched out on his cock.
"Slower," I whimper when I feel Lando start rocking his hips into mine which has him stopping his movements giving me a few moments to adjust before I nod and feel Lando slowly pull his cock out an inch or so before thrusting back in making both of us moan at the feeling.
"Oh," I moan softly when I feel Lando's thrusts start to pick up making my nails dig in a bit deeper into his shoulders making him hiss at the feeling.
"Lan, it feels so good," I moan when I feel Lando's thrust turn from fast and shallow to hard and deep making me feel him in a whole new way. I can feel my nails digging into his back, probably leaving marks behind but with the way Lando only speeds up the harder I grip him I don't think he has any complaints.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Lando grunts out clearly getting close to the edge.
"I'm gonna cum," I announce suddenly when I feel Lando's cock drill right into me G-spot over and over again.
"Fuck, cum with me," Lando grunts his hips shuddering a bit before I feel him start to cum into the condom sending me over the edge into another shaking orgasm.
"Fuck," Lando grunts coming down from his orgasm as he slowly slips his cock from my overstimulated pussy making me whimper at the stimulation.
"Fuck, you took me so well," Lando tells me softly helping me sit up before handing me a water bottle and letting me take a few sips before he takes a few sips himself.
"You're not weirded out to drink from the same straw as me," I ask softly making Lando laugh lightly.
"I tasted my cum from your lips, we're past sharing water bottles," Lando says softly making a me laugh with him and nod my head understanding.
For the next 30 minutes Lando and I spent it in the shower while he told me how good I did for him making me blush under the praise.
When we get out of the bathroom and I wince when I catch sight of Lando's back.
"I'm sorry," I say softly while running a light finger over one of the darker scratches.
"I would live the rest of my life with them if it meant I got to fuck you everyday," Lando says while looking at the damage in the mirror with a shrug.
"You want to do it again?" I ask shyly not even thinking about the possibility of doing it again.
"I mean, yeah. It was honestly the best sex I've ever had but if this was a one off for you, I'm more than okay with that," Lando tells me honestly making me smile and nod.
"I'd like to do it again," I tell him softly with a nod making him smile.
It's only a few days later when I get another Facetime from Lando. When I answer I come face to face with a smirking Carlos and a sheepish looking Lando staring back at me. Both boys where clearly shirtless on a yacht but from the looks of it they were still docked.
"You attacked my boy?" Carlos asks with a smirk falling from his lips making me jaw drop slightly at a total loss for words.
"I have no idea what you're on about Sainz," I respond back with a blush creeping up onto my cheeks.
"No? This should remind you," Carlos says while flipping the camera and showing me Lando's back that was still scattered with a few lingering marks.
"Okay, so Lando and I had a bit of fun. What about it?" I ask trying to be nonchalant. It had never been a secret that when Carlos joined Mclaren with Lando I had a crush on him so having a conversation like this year later it a bit bone rattling.
"I just wish I had gotten an invite," Carlos says while flipping the camera back to face a red faced Lando and a smug looking Carlos. I know my cheeks are as red as Lando's if not redder.
"What?!" Is the only word out of my mouth clearly still too stunned to speak.
"Oh cut the crap, Brown! It was no secret that you fancied me back in my Mclaren days. If you're in Monaco come to the dock," Carlos says with a smirk making me gawk at the two for a few seconds before I hang up the phone and get changed into a swimsuit.
I shoot Lando a quick text letting him know I would be there in a few minutes. I guess you could say curiosity killed the cat but if a long time crush was offering me a day on his yacht I wasn't gonna pass it up.
When I get to the dock I find Lando sitting at the nose of the boat with a sour look spread across him face while looking at his phone while Carlos is smirking with his arms crossed watching me approach him.
"We have company," Carlos announcing making Lando look up from his phone letting his sour look deepen.
"Before I step foot on this yacht. I need to know what is about to happen and if both of you guys are consenting," I saw while looking directly at Lando.
"There's zero pressure on what we do today. But both of us understand what could happen and we're on the same page, Lando's just but hurt he couldn't keep you to himself," Carlos says making me raise a brow at him.
"No Carlos, I'm annoyed at you because you haven't shut up for the past 15 minutes about what happened between me and her," Lando announces with a bit of a whiney voice making me laugh softly.
When I set onto the yacht I look around to make sure we were alone before I walk to Lando and stand between his legs and lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips.
"Do you want whatever could happen to happen?" I whisper making sure he knew it was just a conversation between us.
"Yes," Lando finally answers looking up at me through his long lashes.
“I’m positive, it wouldn't be the first time Carlos and I shared someone,” Lando admits softly making me look up at Carlos with a surprised face. He just sends me back one of his signature smirks making me roll my eyes jokingly before stepping away from Lando and placing my stuff where it belonged before pulling off my swimsuit cover and making me way to find Carlos is alright driving the boat away from the dock while Lando rests back allowing his tanned skin to soak up even more sunlight.
I climb onto the sofa next to Lando allowing my head to rest on his shoulder.
"We aren't doing a single thing you don't consent to, and Carlos is big on verbal consent," Lando tells me softly angling his head so he can look me in the eye.
"Okay," I reply softly with a small smile playing on my lips.
Once Carlos has gotten us far away from the shore I realize we are completely alone in a cove with not a single person around us.
When Carlos approaches both Lando and I he leans down and places a quick kiss on Lando's mouth making me gawk at them softly before Carlos turns his attention on me.
"Can I kiss you, Hermosa?" Carlos asks softly making a me nod my head but quickly give a soft yes remembering what Lando had just been telling me.
As soon as the word left my mouth Carlos crashes his lips onto mine and our kiss was the complete opposite of the one him and Lando shared. While his and Lando's was quick and a bit lack luster Carlos and I's is heated and intense.
When I feel Carlos softly graze his tongue against my bottom lip I part my mouth and feel Carlos's tongue tangle with mine making me whimper at the feeling.
"Fuck, such a sweet little mouth. Lando has told me your head game is the best, would you like to prove him right?" Carlos asks softly.
"Yes sir," I reply back softly while pushing Carlos to sit next to me making me turn my body towards him on my hands and knees with my ass facing Lando making him groan at the sight of my swimsuit riding up my ass.
I pull Carlos's swim trunks just enough to free his hard cock before bringing my mouth down to his cock and pulling it into my mouth making him hiss at the feeling of me taking his full length into my mouth.
"Fuck," Carlos groans throwing his head back when I feel the tip of his cock bypass my gag reflex taking him all the way.
I start bobbing my head on his cock making Carlos tangle his fingers into my hair while Lando pulls my swim bottoms to the side where he started teasing my clit making me moan around Carlos's cock.
Once Lando felt I was wet enough he grips into my hair pulling me off Carlos's cock making me whine at the loss. Once Lando gets me situated on my hands and knees but this time facing Lando I realize all the prep he had done wasn't for him but was for Carlos.
Lando pulls his shorts off letting me take his cock into my mouth while I feel the tip of Carlos's cock teasing my clit making me pull off Lando's cock and trying to turn my head.
"He's wearing protection," Lando tells me softly making me nod my head and get back to work with Lando's cock. When I feel Carlos slowly sinking his thick cock into my tight pussy I whimper at the stretch. I can tell he's wearing a condom making me smile softly to myself knowing Lando was telling me the truth.
I knew I wasn't gonna last long but when I feel my orgasm build almost instantly I start freaking out slightly trying to pull my hips away from Carlos.
"Am I hurting you," Carlos asks letting my hips go letting me get away slightly.
"No! I was about to cum," I admit sheepishly making Carlos groans and sink his cock back into me in one quick motion before pounding into me and throwing me over the edge almost instantly.
"I don't care if you cum in 3 seconds or 3 hours, I want you to let go," Carlos groans fucking me through my orgasm before slowing down almost completely letting me come down from my orgasm without over stimulating me but once I got a few minutes of rest Carlos gets right back to it making me moan around Lando's cock making him whimper and pull me off his cock not wanting to cum just yet.
"Fuck, Carlos," I moan rather loudly letting my voice echo across the water coming out far louder than I was hoping.
"So fucking tight," Carlos groans clearly getting close to the edge making Lando shove his cock back into my mouth. I could feel another orgasm building deep in the pit of my stomach and once I finally release I feel Carlos shove deep into me one last time before filling the condom up with his cock. I feel Lando shudder one last time before a loud whine leaves his mouth and he starts cumming filling my mouth with his cum.
"Don't swallow," Carlos groans while slowly slipping his cock from my pussy making a me turn my head slightly and open my mouth showing him my mouth full of cum.
"Swallow some of it and spit the rest into his mouth," Lando says out of breath behind me making me look at Carlos who has a smirk on his face and he nods giving me permission. I swallow half of Lando's load before standing up and pulling Carlos into my mouth and pushing the rest of the cum in his mouth where he quickly swallows it and pulls me in for a quick makeout before pulling back and grabbing his discarded swim trunks.
Lando helps me get dressed before pulling me back into his chest and letting me cuddle up with him.
"Who else have you told?" I finally ask in a hushed whisper while Carlos starts moving the yacht to another location.
"No one I swear! But I'm sure Carlos will tell Charles, who will tell Pierre, who will tell Yuki, who will tell everyone," Lando admits sheepishly making my face grow hot and a groan to leave my lips.
"Great so I'm about to become the paddock whore," I saw with a cringed look across my face.
"No, I'm positive if anything they'll just want a taste," Lando tells me softly making me groan and throw my head back.
"That might even be worse," I groan again making Lando laugh softly.
"You do what you want. If someone tries anything and you don't want it you tell them to fuck off," Lando says as if this was the most normal situation in the world.
Over the next few weeks the group chat that started with just Lando, Carlos and I had slowly grown in size. While I wasn't sure how word had spread so fast I was positive that my life was not the same one it was at the start of the season.
#Lee-Lee's Paddock Bunny Series#formula 1 fic#formula 1#formula one#male form#formula racing#formula 2#lando norris#mclaren#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris smut#lando norris imagines#ln4 x y/n#ln4 mcl#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff#ln4 smut#carlando smut#carlando imagines#carlando x you#carlando fanfiction#carlando fic#carlando x reader#carlando au
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Daft Punk - Around the World 1997
"Around the World" is a song by French electronic music duo Daft Punk. It was released in April 1997 as the second single from their debut studio album, Homework. The song became a major club hit globally and reached number one on the dance charts in Canada, Spain, the UK, and the US. It also peaked at number one in Iceland and Italy. The song's lyrics solely consist of the words "around the world", repeated on loop for a total of 144 times (80 on the radio edit). In October 2011, NME placed it at number 21 on its list "150 Best Tracks of the Past 15 Years". "Around the World" was featured in one episode of first season of MTV animated series Daria. It was also used in the video games Dance Central 3, NBA 2K13 and the trailers for Ubisoft E3 2007 Rayman Raving Rabbids 2.
Michel Gondry's music video for the song features five groups of characters on a platform representing a vinyl record: four robots walking around in a circle; four tall athletes wearing tracksuits with small prosthetic heads walking up and down stairs; four women dressed like synchronized swimmers moving up and down another set of stairs; four skeletons dancing in the center of the platform; and four mummies dancing in time with the song's drum pattern. This is meant to be a visual representation of the song; each group of characters represents a different instrument. According to Gondry's notes, the robots represent the singing voice; the physicality and small-minded rapidity of the athletes symbolizes the ascending/descending bass guitar; the femininity of the disco girls represents the high-pitched keyboard; the skeletons dance to the guitar line; and the mummies represent the drum machine.
"Around the World" was Gondry's first attempt at bringing organized dancing to his music videos. "I was sick to see choreography being mistreated in videos like filler with fast cutting and fast editing, really shallow. I don't think choreography should be shot in close-ups." The sequence, initially developed by Gondry, was further expanded and streamlined by choreographer Blanca Li.
The music video won Best Dance Video at the International Dance Music Awards, and was nominated for Best Video at the MTV Europe Music Video Awards, and nominated for International Viewer's Choice - MTV Europe at the MTV Video Music Awards. The song was nominated for Best Dance Recording at the Grammy Awards.
"Around the World" received a total of 81,7% yes votes!
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You're sexy I'm sexy
Jeongin x reader. Friends to lovers. Lots of pining and tension. Innie has a fat crush. Mention of alcohol and drinking!
Inspired by You're sexy I'm sexy by Eric Nam, also by this moodboard by @chachachannah <3
Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.
skz song series masterlist.
a.n: 7/8 of the series and a little fun break from all the angst <3 can't believe there is only one fic to go now :")
Jeongin is out with nine of his friends, they are loud and boisterous, their laughter echoing throughout the small bar they're in. Yet, the only thing he can seem to focus on is you. You're giggling at a joke Minho just told, and it feels as if your laugh is molten sunshine, running through his veins and igniting him from within.
You squint your eyes as you take a sip of your drink, your nose scrunching up as the liquor grazes your tastebuds, and Jeongin can't seem to take his eyes off of you. He is enthralled by your every move, and you're not even doing anything.
He's had a crush on you for a while, four months to be exact- 120 days where his every waking moment was spent thinking of you. It happened so abruptly, taking him completely off-guard. He's never felt this way before- a blushing mess, putty in your hands, so pliable for you to mold however you want.
He shakes his head, tugging slightly at his black bangs. He remembers how you complimented him on his new color, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair. You’re always so nonchalant, in your way of touching him as if you don't leave him burning up in your trail. As if your knee bumping into his doesn't make electricity shoot through his body, as if your arm resting lazily on his shoulder doesn't make the world around him fade away, until all he sees is you.
You stand up to go get another drink, and Jeongin finally feels as if he can breathe again. "You're staring at yn," Hyunjin nudges his side with his elbow, and Jeongin drawls out a whine, hiding his face in his hands, "I know."
Some time has passed, and Chan has called over some people he knows, so now everyone is squeezed into this tiny brown booth with Jeongin at the end of it. But no one seems to mind the lack of space, everyone is delighted the exam season is finally over.
You come back, a red drink in your hand, and Jeongin can tell it’s you just from the intoxicating smell of your perfume. He's learned to recognize you through those small details- he can even distinguish your soft knocks on his door when you visit his dorm.
There is no place left for you in the booth, and you pout slightly. Jeongin goes to stand up to leave you his place, but you push him gently back down.
"Do you mind?" you ask, pointing at his lap and he startles, looking between you and his legs. He stays silent for a while, unsure of how to answer, and you smile slightly.
"Never mind, it's okay," you leave to get a chair but he grabs your hand abruptly, pulling you on top of his lap.
Jeongin doesn't know what's taking over him, he's never been this bold. But he accounts it on the one sip of alcohol he's taken, this, and the fact you proposed such a thing. He knows you're tipsy because your cheeks are tinted pink and you don't seem to mind where you’re sitting, on his lap.
Jeongin can't think straight anymore, too overwhelmed by the warmth of your body. You are everywhere, all at once, and he feels a sudden urge to bury his face in your hair and never let go. You move your hair to your right shoulder, and the scent of your shampoo tickles his nose. The curve of your neck is exposed, and he wonders what would happen if he grazed it with his teeth.
Would shivers run down your spin? Would you gasp softly, pupils dilating as if trying your best to take him all in?
You are laughing, again, and the melodic sound pulls Jeongin out of his wandering thoughts. He finds it endearing, how your entire body shakes when you chuckle, as if laughter reverberates through you from head to toe. Was it normal to be so aware of someone's existence? To know them more than you know yourself?
"Am I bothering you?" you turn to ask him, a soft smile on your face, and he shakes his head. It felt as if his tongue was tied in an impossible knot, he couldn't think, or dare to speak with you so near.
"You're warm," you point out, placing your cold hands on his heated cheeks. He closes his eyes, leaning into your cooling touch.
"Here, let me," you smile, grabbing the collar of his leather jacket and shrugging it off of him. He simply watches as you place the discarded jacket on top of your lap, before rolling the sleeves of his white t-shirt a bit upward. Your hand lingers on his forearm, squeezing it lightly, and it feels as if you’ve sealed the skin with your palm. Anyone who gazes at it will be able to tell you touched him.
You lean your back onto his chest, and Jeongin tentatively wraps his arm around your waist. Your hand reaches up to play absentmindedly with his silver rings, and he wonders what you must look like to other people. He wanted them to think that you were a couple, he realizes. Maybe if enough people believed it, it'd become a reality.
The night passes and the place beside Jeongin frees up, but you stay on his lap. His chin is now on your shoulder, your back snug against his chest. He can feel every twitch of your body and every soft exhale you take, and he unconsciously mirrors your actions, as if looking for any way to intertwine your being with his.
He goes to grab a water bottle from the table but you hand it to him, unscrewing the cap in the process. You turn to face him, as he brings the bottle to his mouth, his eyes still fixated on you. A water droplet runs down his throat, and you trace over its path with your finger lightly, which makes his Adam's apple bob up and down furiously.
Your finger doesn't leave his skin- you are tracing over his collarbones now, and he licks his lips nervously. Your touch is barely there, it would be farfetched to even compare it to a feather. But it's you who's touching him, so he feels it, everywhere.
Your hand moves to rest on top of his chest, and he knows you can feel his heart beating widely in there. He thinks the entire room can hear it at this point. A testament of what you do to him, of what you make him feel. Only you.
"Hi there," you smile innocently and Jeongin lets out a dry chuckle, his hooded eyes gazing intensely into yours.
"Hey you," he whispers, grabbing a strand of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. His gaze flickers from your eyes, to your nose and then to your lips. It stays there, too enamored to possibly move somewhere else. You're talking, he knows you are, but he can't seem to hear what you are saying.
He can't blame it on the alcohol because he hasn't even drunk that much. But his mind is foggy with thoughts of you, of what he wants to do with you, if you'd let him.
"Why are you looking at me like this?" you ask, a slight giggle rhythming your words.
"Do you even know how pretty you are," he says in awe before his eyes slightly widen in shock. Did he just say this out loud?
"Is that why you kept looking at me all night?" you smile, a hint of teasing in your tone, and Jeongin buries his head in your shoulder. "Shut up," he says lowly, embarrassment clear in his voice at being caught.
"It's okay, you're so pretty too," you smile, pulling his head away so you'd be able to look at him again.
His eyes find your lips instantly, like two magnets that can't help but be drawn to one another- fated to be together, no matter how much they try to stay apart.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks breathlessly, raw hope dripping from his tone. "We don't have to be something more I just-"
You cut him off with your mouth crashing on his, desperately, and he gasps onto you as if you're the oxygen with which he breathes. You taste sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he's getting drunk from the way your mouths move against one another. He wraps his arm around your waist, thumb brushing your sides gently in an effort to bring you impossibly close. Your hands finds his hair, tugging slightly at the ends of it, and it's as if you wanted this too all along. As if Jeongin wasn't alone in his longing for you.
Your lips are soft, immensely so, and he doesn't think he can go back to not kissing you. To preserving you in his mind as a fond memory, not when he knows what it feels like to have his mouth on yours.
"I want to be somebody to you," he says between kisses, desperation lacing his words. He doesn't care how needy he sounds. He's been waiting for four months. If there is a slight chance you like him back, he'd take it and water it enough until it blooms into something much more.
"You already are," you smile into the kiss, your teeth clashing against his which makes you both giggle. "You'll kiss me again when we are sober, right?"
"I'll kiss you for the rest of my life if you'd let me," he brushes his nose against yours gently, and you smile softly at him, wiping the remains of your red lipstick from the corner of his mouth. He places a tender kiss on your wrist, before pressing his swollen lips onto yours again.
#skz song series#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz x y/n#skz x you#stray kids x you#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#yang jeongin fluff#yang jeongin x reader#jeongin x reader#jeongin fluff#jeongin angst#yang jeongin angst#skz angst#stray kids angst#i.n x reader#i.n fluff#i.n fanfic#skz fanfic
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