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madelynn-sienna · 5 months ago

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ms americana and the heartbreak prince (logan sargeant x reader)

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★ prompt : ❛❛ it's you and me, that's my whole world... ❜❜ ★ pairing : logan sargeant x reader ★ face claim : unnamed women on pinterest ★ genre : fluff and comfort ★ a/n : i wanted to release this yesterday but got a bit busy, but in light of william's announcement, i figured a happy, feel-good logan piece would be nice for fans of his out there (+ i feel really bad for him) 🥺 ★ feedback and requests are always appreciated!

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liked by yourinstagram, williamsracing, logansargeant and others

f1 🚩 Red flag in FP3 at Circuit Zandvoort as Logan Sargeant suffers a huge crash. Thankfully the Williams driver is out of the car and reports that he is doing okay, but the same cannot be said for his car.

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user1 he's making williams bleed money.

user2 he is definitely bringing in more than he costs. user3 logan's been in what four crashes already? user4 he's made them lose at least $3 million in repair work.

user5 glad he's okay!!

user6 they need to fire him.

user7 exactly, logan isn't good enough to race in formula one user8 dude roscoe or leo could probably drive better than him user9 honestly, how does he have a job atp user10 petition to fire sargeant before monza

user11 why is he still here?

user12 right? the crash was so avoidable. user13 he should have been replaced over summer break.

user14 how does his guy have any fans?

user15 he doesn't user16 mainly just fangirls who like him for his looks user17 how does he still have a car or a team?

user18 just sack him honestly

user19 guys stop saying bad things about him, i can't like everything!

user20 you got me at the first half 😂

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liked by f1, alexalbon, oscarpiastri and others

williamsracing We'd like to thank Logan for his work over the past two seasons. He will continue as a member of the Williams family and we wish him all the best for his future endeavours.

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user1 good riddance

user2 right? how did that guy have a car for this long!? user3 i mean i can drive better than logan 😂 user4 that's not too difficult uk, just don't crash 👀

user5 well done williams!

user6 took them long enough to come to their senses user7 now that they have a good car, it really was time to sack him

user8 i feel so bad 💔

user9 thank god, he's just a financial liability

user10 bye bye 😊

user11 really was about time! user12 can't wait to see colapinto in the car user13 watch him make the points in his debut race user14 that'll be so embarrassing for sargeant user15 who cares?

user16 nooooooo 🦅 🇺🇸

user17 let's go franco colapinto 🇦🇷

user18 is this really a shock to anyone?

user19 i was counting down the days after zandvoort user20 i thought they'd sack him right after that fp3 crash!

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text exchanges between y/n & logan dated 27/08.

logansargeant added to their story.

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liked by logansargeant, lilyzneimer, oscarpiastri and others

yourinstagram there's escape in escaping.

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lilyzneimer this is so cute 💖

user1 couple goals fr fr

user2 right? i need a logan in my life 🥺 user3 why so he can crash into you? man's jobless.

logansargeant a much needed break with my favourite person ❤️

yourinstagram you deserved every second of it! logansargeant thank you for making it so special, babe. logansargeant i'm still smiling 😊 yourinstagram awww, i love you more than words can describe 💕 logansargeant not as much as i love you, but nice try 😉 user4 why are they so adorable?!?

oscarpiastri i hope you two enjoyed france, it's a beautiful place!

user4 i'm sure they did 👀 yourinstagram we had a great time, got to visit annecy too. lilyzneimer they took our suggestion osc❣️

alexalbon been to france twice in less than two months 😮

logansargeant did it without the yacht this time dude. yourinstagram its logan's new favourite country 👀 user5 what happened to mr america?! logansargeant the betrayal babe 😢

user6 they're so cute together 🫶

user7 right? we love ms americana and her heartbreak prince💜

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liked by yourinstagram, carmenmmundt, jackdoohan and others

logansargeant Couldn't be prouder, dr. l/n 🎓 ❤️

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georgerussell congratulations y/n!

yourinstagram aww, this is so cute babe - i'm going to cry 🥺

logansargeant you deserve this moment so much ❤️ logansargeant i can't wait to watch you shine as a doctor 🤩

lilymhe such a beautiful graduation 💕

alexalbon where are my photo credits logan?!? congrats y/n

logansargeant you took one picture. alexalbon which you used! yourinstagram why do i sound like an afterthought alex 😢 alexalbon sorry? 😅 yourinstagram that sounds like a question, i'm heartbroken! alexalbon you're dramatic yourinstagram well, so are you. logansargeant presenting the drama king and queen, everyone. user1 i live for the alex and y/n banter! user2 right? they are so sibling-coded.

oscarpiastri we're so proud of you, y/n!

lilyzneimer ❤️

user3 excuse me, logan's girlfriend is a doctor?!?

user4 yeah, she graduated from oxford, she's like super smart! user5 i'm so happy for her tbh

user6 love how successful they both are rn!

user7 right? logan's doing amazing in indycar rn 🤩 user8 they're honestly living the american dream user9 after all the williams and f1 drama, i'm so deserve it

user10 it's giving miss americana

user11 so demure, so mindful user12 that trend's getting so old now 😭

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liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, lilyzneimer and others

yourinstagram It's you and me, that's my whole world 💍 🫶

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user1 oh. my. god.

user2 we're finally getting mr and mrs americana🤩 user3 i can't believe she'll be mrs sargeant soon!

lilyzneimer congratulations 💕

user4 just can't take the florida out of the man

user5 i was just about to comment that! user6 this is definitely in fort lauderdale user7 they met there, so it's probably really special <3

georgerussell can't wait for the wedding mate!

alexalbon can we take a minute to appreciate my help?

logansargeant shhhhh 👀 yourinstagram go on... lilymhe please, you literally did nothing alex alexalbon i did too, i let logan borrow the marquee letters! lilymhe you let him borrow two m's and a y user8 i live for lily roasting alex in the comments 😂

oscarpiastri congrats, just saying, i expect an invitation 🥺

yourinstagram the matchmaker gets a spot on the bridal party 👀 user9 oscar introduced y/n and logan?!? user10 don't be afraid to spill the story oscar, we're all waiting...

user11 this is going to be the wedding of the year!

user12 more like the century user13 of course, it's the royal american wedding 🦅 🇺🇸

user14 i'm so happy, this has been such a good year for them

user15 right? y/n's a doctor now and logan won rookie of the year user16 what a turnaround after his f1 career user17 counting the days till they're begging him to return user18 his replacements haven't even bagged any points 😂

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liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, lilyzneimer and others

yourinstagram I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover...

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logansargeant you made me the luckiest man alive, mrs sargeant ❤️

logansargeant or should i say dr sargeant 👀 yourinstagram not as lucky as i am mr sargeant 💕 yourinstagram or should i say indycar drivers' champion 😉

oscarpiastri so happy for the two of you!

lilyzneimer what a beautiful wedding ❤️

user1 you can't just drop a whole wedding with no warning 😭

user2 right? like i'm going to need 2-3 days to recover user3 i love how they were able to keep a whole wedding hidden user4 exactly, i'm glad they got some privacy.

alexalbon and best man of the year goes to...

oscarpiastri me! alexalbon the lies, the outrage, we both know it was me 😮 oscarpiastri please. alexalbon y/n, logan, what's the verdict? yourinstagram i plead the fifth! logansargeant what she said. alexalbon traitors.

user5 y/n's the prettiest bride i've ever seen 💕

user6 and logan's the most handsome groom! user7 they really are a match made in heaven. user8 i'm so, so happy for them!

user9 these pictures are so cute

user10 definitely the wedding of the year 💖

user11 that dip is so extra, but we love it 💙

user12 presenting miss americana and her heartbreak prince!

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liked by yourinstagram, georgerussell, estebanocon and others

logansargeant I was enchanted to meet you❣️

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yourinstagram the best christmas gift ever ❤️

logansargeant absolutely, i couldn't have asked for anything more logansargeant thank you for giving me this opportunity darling 💕 yourinstagram couldn't have done it without you love 💖 alexalbon they may be all love dovey here, but that's all lies alexalbon y/n threatened logan so many times during labour 😂 lilymhe cut my girl some slack, you'll have a broken hand if you put me through that kind of pain 😠 alexalbon but babies? 🥺 user1 we all know who's sleeping on the sofa tonight...

oscarpiastri so who do we have a godfather in mind?

alexalbon we both know it's going to be me. oscarpiastri i'm just saying, i am more responsible alexalbon for the 100th time, i didn't lose my cousin oscarpiastri no, you just misplaced him in a massive crowd 👀 user2 i didn't know i needed alex and oscar banter in my life.

user3 awww, the baby is so adorable

user4 right? logan and y/n make such cute babies user5 i wonder what they've named the baby... user6 we all know it's going to be the most american name ever!

user7 congratulations!

georgerussell amazing news guys! can't wait to meet her 💕

estebanocon Félicitations à vous deux!

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liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri, haasf1team and others

logansargeant I am incredibly excited to announce that i'll be returning to formula one in the coming season to drive for Haas. I would like to thank Andretti for giving me three phenomenal seasons with IndyCar and two drivers championships. I wouldn't be here without your help and guidance. This a dream come true for me, and I cannot appreciate my wife enough for all the sacrifices she has made and love and support she has showered me with in the last seven years. I am who I am today because of her.

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yourinstagram so proud of you logan, i love you ❤️

logansargeant you mean the world to me, i love you so much 💕

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sophiepiastri · 7 months ago

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CANDY NECKLACES|LN4

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pairing: Lando Norris x singer!reader

genre: smau

context: y/n has been hinting about an album for a while now, and when she finally releases the album most of the songs are about her McLaren driver boyfriend…

faceclaim: Lana Del Rey

warnings: this is my first fic, so bare with me if it is bad or not well written! by all means message me some tips and tricks ❤️

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@youruser

liked by, landonorris, lilymhe, 867,543 others

@youruser i know i keep saying this but.. I PROMISE ITS COMING SOON!!!

this album is very personal to me. it has songs about things i’ve never spoken about, about the man i love and my dreams. it has been a long time coming and the time will be soon i promise..

thank you @ jackantonoff for helping me make this album the best it can be 🤍✨

comments

@ user: i know for a fact this album will make me cry and buss it down all at once ❤️liked by author

@ landonorris: spoiler alert 🚨 first song made me tear up 😀 —> @youruser: now why are you lying?? you full on sobbed in my arms.. —>@ georgerussel: this is more believable, this man cried when he saw a fish in a pond. —>@ landonorris: please stop lying 🤣🤣 —>@youruser: we’re not.

@ user: LMAO lando being called out by y/n and george 😭😭

@ lilymhe: girl please let me hear some of the songs 🙏😔 —>@youruser: SOON I PROMISE —>@ lilymhe: you’ve been saying this for 2 years

@ user: we’re cooked.. jacks a producer, it’s going to be piano ballads 😔 i’ll buy the tissues y’all

@ user: day 821 waiting for the album to drop

more comments…

@ landonorris

liked by, youruser, oscarpiastri , 943,776 others

@ landonorris: my beautiful girlfriend @youruser has given me the honor to announce that her album comes out in 2 days!!! i love you so much baby i can’t wait for it to finally be out to the world

comments

@youruser: lando baby i love you, but what’s with the 3rd picture?? —>@ landonorris: wdym?? that’s my delectable gf 😋

@ user: OMG OMG OMG I CANT WAIT OMFG?!!! ❤️liked by @youruser and @landonorris

@ charlesleclerc: congrats y/n me and Alex can’t wait to hear it, alex has been none stop talking about it ❤️liked by @youruser

@ alexandrasaintmleux: unbelievably excited✨ —>@youruser: i love you 😢❤️

@lilymhe: THE LOVE SONGS ARE ABOUT ME GUYS 😋. —>@ alexalbon: oh? —>@ landonorris: but there not though

@ user: brb preparing myself for an 1hour and 30 minute crying session in 48 hours

@ user: I JUST WANT TO KNOW THE TRACKLIST AND WHAT ITS CALLED!! —>@youruser: 😋😋

@youruser

liked by,landonorris,iamrebbecad, 987,566 others

@youruser: 1 DAY TILL THE ALBUM DROPS!!!

i hope you are all really like this album, i’ve spent 3 years making this. i’ve written it through the toughest and happiest parts of my life. some songs have an extremely deep hidden message and some get straight to the point.

side A are my meaningful “sad” songs and side B and my more upbeat “happy” songs

get ready ❤️❤️

comments

@. landonorris: extremely proud of you love!! 💗 —>@youruser: I LOVE YOU

@ landonorris: burning desire is about me y’all 🤭🤭🤭

@ user: SO THANKFUL THAT SAD SONGS ARE FIRST. THEN I CAN BUSS IT DOWNNNNNN

@ user: isn’t scott street the street her and her ex boyfriend lived on??? —>@ user: yes i think so, he was a horrible person to y/n.. im actually dreading that song, im scared of what she’s going to say in it 💔

@ user: “off to the races” defo about lando 😋😋

@ alexandrasaintmleux: so excited ily 🤍 ❤️liked by youruser

@lewishamilton: i’m so ready, can’t wait to hear it y/n

@ user: the meaning of the word “kintsugi”… so scared and excited to hear this.. —>@ user: what does it mean? —>@ user: it’s an art were you fix broken poetry with a lacquer dusted with powdered gold.. maybe suggesting she was broken and lando fixed her?? ❤️liked by youruser

@iamrebbecad: this album cover is gorgeous —>@youruser: thank you!! ily ❤️

@user: so are we not going to talk about “outro” ???? that song literally is the embodiment of the end of a chapter or the end of a story.

@ user

liked by, user, youruser, 10,776 others

@ user: when y/n said side A was going to be sad i didn’t think she meant GUT WRENCHING SAD

comments

@ user: FOR REAL. gilded lily “haven’t i given enough?” 😢😢who hurt my girl? cause i will find you…

@ user: “sweet” almost took me out.. “do you want children? do you wanna marry me?” her thinking about if lando wants to stay with her and grow old together even when she pushes him away :(

@ user: i know living legend is about lando but when she started screaming “why?why?why?why?why?” at the end my heart stopped..

@ user: its such a y/n thing to make us bawl our eyes out at the start of A&W and then buss it down why’ll crying ❤️liked by youruser

@ landonorris: i’m going to own up to it now.. yes i did sob in y/ns arms. yes i did have to leave the studio because i wouldn’t stop crying…

@ user:i had to pause scott street after i heard “do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?”

more comments..

@ landonorris

liked by, youruser, lewishamilton, 886,765 others

@ landonorris: so unbelievably proud of this woman, i am so proud of what she has done and how much effort she has put into this album i love you so much @youruser (cherry and burning desire are on repeat 🤭🤭)

comments

@youruser: babe i thought we agreed on no more bad photos of me.. —> @ landonorris: wdym?? i stuck to the agreement 😗😗

@youruser: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. COME HOME RIGHT NOW. I WANT TO HUG AND KISS YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. —>@ user: she’s so cute omg

@ georgerussell: hes not joking i can hear burning desire through his headphones 😀😀

@ user: y’all they love eachother so much

@ user: they cute or whatever

@ oscarpiastri: brb off to listen to side A because i didn’t get a post like this when i got p2 in monaco 😔

@ user

liked by, user, 14,675 others

@ user: y/ns bussy tastes like what now?

comments

@ user: that being the first line is so unhinged

@ user: i know the song is called cola but i didn’t think it would be about her kitty cat

@ user: BUT HER VOCALS DURING THE BRIDGE SENT ME TO HEAVEN

more comments..

@youruser

liked by, landonorris, lilymhe, 1,456,355 others

@youruser: “candy necklaces” music video out now!!! this song is one of my favorite ive ever written and it has been one of my favorite music videos!! hope you enjoy it!!

comments

@ landonorris: bbg the curly hair 😋😋😋😋😋😋

@ user: petition to get y/n a real hollywood star!!

@ lilymhe: this music video is so appealing to the eye

@iamrebbecad: being on set with you was ethereal

@ user: her dressing as different hollywood stars that have died 😢😢

@ charlesleclerc: the piano solo at the end 🫡🫡

@ alexandrasaintmleux: charles is now learning this on piano.. and i’m not complaining 😗😗 one of my favorite songs

more comments..

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author note: thank you for reading!!! this is my first fic and i think it’s okay?? please message me tips of how i could improve.

List of songs used:

Gilded Lily- Cults

Candy Necklaces- Lana Del Rey

Kintsugi- Lana Del Rey

Living Legend- Lana Del Rey

Sweet- Lana Del Rey

Scott Street- Phoebe Bridgers

Arcadia- Lana Del Rey

A&W- Lana Del Rey

Burning Desire- Lana Del Rey

High by the Beach- Lana Del Rey

Off To The Races- Lana Del Rey

Cherry - Lana Del Rey

Ride- Lana Del Rey

Cola- Lana Del Rey

Outro- M83

#f1 x y/n #landonorris #lana del rey #formula 1 #smau #f1 #lando norris #formula one #mclaren #formula 1 oneshot #oscar piastri #lewis hamilton #alexandra saint mleux #charles leclerc #alex albon #singer!reader #lando norris x reader #fanfic #singer

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cheriladycl01 · 5 months ago

Text

How I love you - Multi Driver x Reader Part 2

Plot: The Heartstopper Charlie Monologue but for each driver!

Pierre Gasly

"I've been going out with Pierre Gasly since i was 15. He likes travelling and French Football. Dogs, especially the fluffy kind. Trying new foods across the world. His first win in Monza. Coffee. Taking picnics in Nice. Getting back into our bed after a long triple header. And Panoramas"

"He also likes me...”

"His hair is a sandy blonde, that could almost be a brown and his eyes are light blue and he's 7 inches taller than me, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Esteban Ocon

"I've been going out with Esteban Ocon since i was 22. He likes the movies and Italian Cuisine. Marvel, especially if it’s Deadpool. Building remote control cars. Having Ryan Reynolds as an Alpine Investor. Table Tennis. Making everything into a race, even mountain biking. Spending time with his parents . And pink"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is very dark, basically black, and his eyes are dark brown and he's 9 inches taller than me, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Alexander Albon

"I've been going out with Alex Albon since i was 24. He likes photography and film cameras. Animals, especially our pets at home. He loves wearing loungewear. And his attachment to golf. Spicy Food. Doing his skincare with me. His podcast with Logan on race weekends. And his iPad"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is always changing colour because he dyes it, and his eyes are light brown and he's 2 inches taller than me, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Franco Colapinto

"I've been going out with Franco Colapinto since i was 18. He likes yapping and flirting with his interviewers, to get on my nerves. Buenos Aries, especially when showing me around where he grew up. He loves drinking Mate in the mornings. And watching Lionel Messi. Chocolate. And Dulce de leche. His Spotify full of Spanish music. And The Boss"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is a chocolate brown, and his eyes are like caramel and he's 5 inches taller than me, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Yuki Tsunoda

"I've been going out with Yuki Tsunoda since i was 20. He likes cooking and making me try new dishes. Japan, especially in Cherry Blossom Season. He loves snowboarding at Christmas. And playing video games. Sake. And going cycling. His PC at home in Italy. And Swearing"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is jet black, and his eyes are almost matching that and im 5 inches taller than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Daniel Ricciardo

"I've been going out with Daniel Ricciardo since i was 26. He likes mountain biking and bmxing. The great outdoors especially the Australian Outback. He loves taking pictures mainly of me. And horse riding on the beach. America. Joking around with Lando. His Beats Headphones. And MotoGP"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is brown, and his eyes are like pools of honey and im 6 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Valtteri Bottas

"I've been going out with Valtteri Bottas since i was 29. He likes caving and rock climbing. Engineering , especially around his F1 car. He loves skiing on weekends. And making BotASS calendars. Wine. And doing cycling tournaments. His morning coffee. And Gin"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is dyed platinum blonde to the point I can’t remember what his natural colour is, and his eyes are like blue and im 2 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Zhou Guanyu

"I've been going out with Zhou Guanyu since i was 16. He likes karaoke and gaming. Cats , especially little Sweetcorn. He loves seeing all the hard work go into an F1 weekend. And exploring more of China. Football. And styling me in outfits. His home in Sheffield. And Fashion”

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is a dry black, and his eyes are dark brown and im 5 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Nico Hulkenberg

"I've been going out with Nico Hulkenberg since i was 24. He likes bakeries and an occasional sweet treat. Sport and fitness, especially cycling and Tennis. He loves travelling with his job. And exploring the many cultures of the world. Skiing. And chilling at home after a long weekend. Some soft music in the car. And Swimming”

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is a blonde, and his eyes are blue and im 7 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Kevin Magnussen

"I've been going out with Kevin Magnussen since i was 26. He likes spice and Indian food. Sports, especially ones of the water variety. He loves outdoors and getting involved. And making everything into a brutal competition. Suzuka. And skydiving. Some Metallica when he’s feeling energised. And cycling”

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is a blonde, and his eyes are blue and im 3 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

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n0vazsq · 1 month ago

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Face of an angel | AA23 x Reader

pairing . . . guardian!angel!alex albon x insane!killer!reader

summary . . . Being a guardian angel was sure to be tiring, Alex knew that, especially when you were an insane killer

request . . . no!!

word count . . . 1.2k+

warnings . . . cursing, killing, blood, stalker behaviour!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . ok so i might have blanked out with this one but trust me guys i had no wifi so i had no thesaurus but the fics about the f2/f3 drivers will be better trust

. . . The world felt quiet tonight. The neon signs reflected off the wet streets as the rain poured down in a veil of silver. You stood under the streetlight, your fingers twitching as they traced the edge of the blade hidden in your jacket.

It had been a while since you’d let yourself get this… worked up. But tonight? Tonight, you had a craving that could only be satisfied by blood.

It had been too long since you'd played with your prey. And you liked to play.

You’d been watching him for weeks now, a shadow in the crowd, learning his movements like a lover tracing every inch of a lover’s skin. He thought he was smart, thought he was untouchable, but you knew better. Everyone had a weakness.

Including you.

You felt the shift in the air before you saw the familiar car pull up beside you. Red, fancy, unmistakable.

It was Alex.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered as he slid out of the driver’s seat, adjusting his jacket with that annoying sense of someone who knew exactly what you were up to. "You really can’t let me have a night off, can you?"

You grinned, taking your time to glance at him. "Alex, darling, you know I can’t help myself. I get so bored."

He was used to this by now. You could see it in the way he stood; arms crossed, eyes narrowed. He didn’t even try to stop you anymore.

He knew it was pointless. After all, he was your guardian angel, wasn’t he? Even if you didn’t need protection from anyone, except maybe yourself.

"I don’t know why I bother anymore," Alex continued, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and frustration. "You’re a walking death wish, and I’m stuck playing chauffeur to a goddamn serial killer."

You tilted your head, amused by the way he spoke as if you weren’t standing right there with blood on your hands. "I’m not a serial killer. I’m an artist. You of all people should appreciate that. I’m… particular."

"Particular? You’re reckless. You’re insane," he shot back. "What part of this do you think is okay?”

You shrugged disinterestedly, running your fingers over the handle of your knife, staring at the target you’d been stalking for weeks. He was there now, just across the street, oblivious to the fact that he was about to die.

But you couldn’t help yourself. It was part of the fun, teasing Alex like this. He was always so stiff, so serious. You wondered how long it would take before he finally gave up trying to save you.

Then again, part of you hoped he’d never give up. There was something about his unwavering commitment to keeping you alive that made you feel… wanted. Even when you didn’t deserve it.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I can handle this? You’re not my keeper, Alex," you taunted, turning your back to him and heading toward your victim.

Alex sighed, following you. "I’m not your keeper, but you know what I am? The only reason you’re still alive. You think I don’t know how much you like the chaos? The blood? You’re a fucking monster, and I’m the one who’s stuck cleaning up your mess."

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Don’t pretend like you don’t love it, Alex. You know you enjoy the thrill of this game too. You’re my guardian angel, after all. You’re stuck with me."

He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "Stuck is right. But I still care about you. You know that, right? Even if you don’t seem to care about anyone else but yourself."

You paused, glancing back at him. For a moment, the playful gleam in your eyes flickered, but only for a second. Then it was gone, replaced by that familiar hunger. "I know you care. But you want to care. There’s a difference."

His jaw tightened, his brows furrowing as he watched you walk up to your target. "You’ve got to stop doing this. I can’t keep saving you from yourself."

"You don’t have to save me, Alex. You know I’m fine," you said, your voice low, but there was a faint tease in it. You stepped into the shadows, positioning yourself for the perfect strike. The guy was turning around, finally noticing the figure lurking in the corner of his vision.

Alex didn’t move, his eyes fixated on you. "I’m trying to keep you from becoming a problem, but you keep making it so much harder. One day, you’re going to piss off the wrong person, and I won’t be able to get you out of it."

You grinned."I like to live dangerously."

The guy took a few steps closer. He was too close now. You could feel your heart rate pick up, that familiar rush of adrenaline washing over you. The air was thick with tension, and for a split second, you thought you saw Alex’s lips quirk into a worried frown.

But then you struck.

It was swift, effortless, just the way you liked it. You didn’t even need to think. The blade was in your hand, and before your target could react, you buried it deep.

Blood pooled beneath him, a perfect crimson halo, and you stepped back with a satisfied smile, wiping your hands on your jacket. It wasn’t your first, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last. But tonight, it felt… satisfying.

You turned back to see Alex standing there, his face unreadable. "Are you done now?" he asked, his voice tight with barely contained frustration.

"Done?" You arched an eyebrow. "I’m just getting started."

He looked like he was about to lose it. “You’re a fucking psychopath.”

"And you love me for it," you teased, stepping toward him, but he stepped back, away from you, clearly unwilling to get too close.

"I don’t love you," he muttered, but you could see through the cracks in his armor. You saw the flicker of something softer in his eyes, the faint hesitation as he stared at the lifeless body you’d just left behind. "I’m just trying to keep you from ruining both of our lives."

You stepped closer, daring him with a look. "Tell me you don’t like it. The thrill, the chaos, the danger."

His face softened just slightly, as if torn between his anger and something else, something buried deep inside. "It’s not that. It’s you. You don’t care about anyone. You don’t even care about yourself."

You stopped, staring at him. For the first time tonight, something shifted between the two of you. The teasing was gone. And in its place? Something deeper. Something Alex had never quite been able to admit.

"I care about you," you whispered, voice uncharacteristically soft, almost vulnerable.

He blinked at you, his lips parting, then he sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You really know how to make me insane, you know that?"

You smiled, a genuine smile, something that could almost pass for sweetness. "That’s because you're my guardian angel, remember? And maybe I'm yours too."

He chuckled, despite himself. "You’re a fucking angel, alright."

You laughed too, the tension fading, but only for a moment. Because deep down, you both knew this wasn’t over.

It never was. You were always one step away from the next kill, and Alex? Well, he’d always be right behind you, chasing you down, trying to save you from the chaos you lived in.

And you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

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2handsslan · 19 days ago

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alex albon // aa23 fix recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

smau

my boyfriend’s boyfriend - @5sospenguinqueen

“when you start publicly declaring your love for your boyfriend, george takes it as a challenge to prove he loves him more. and poor alex is caught in the middle of it all”

close to you - @afterglowsainz

“after your boyfriend starts hanging out more with his future teammate, your start catching feelings for him, not knowing that he also seems to be interested in him”

lewis hamilton // lh44 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

one shots

second heart - @pucksandpower

“all you’ve ever wanted was to be able to race just like your Papai … no matter the cost (or in which always going for a gap that exists runs in the Senna family)”

celebrity - @formulawolff

too fast - @formulawolff

“as lewis hamilton's assistant, you find yourself amidst a heated exchanged one night in vegas”

smau

he's a genius ('cause he loves a woman like her) - @monzabee

“the one where you and lewis (attempt to) soft launch your relationship”

pr chaos - @driverlando

“all the times y/n has been horny on main for lewis”

mick schumacher // ms47 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

one shots

a vettel and a schumacher walk into a bar - @monzabee

“the one where mick is dating seb’s eldest daughter, but forgets to mention this to his mentor and close friend. another problem? he can’t seem to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you”

count me in - @verstarppen

“slowly but surely that fake dating plan you cooked up starts leaving its confined lines”

lance stroll // ls18 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

smau

golden - @norrisainz33

“lance and his long term partner and actress, y/n, attend the golden globes”

*these are part of my fic rec masterlist, please note none of these are written by me and the author of each story had been tagged! check out my f1 fic rec masterlist for other drivers!*

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leclerckins · 1 year ago

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to all the years i've hated you

❀ pairing (s) — charles leclerc x female reader

❀ desc — you are known to be charles leclerc #1 hater so what happens when both of you will have to be close in (forced) proximity throughout your 7th year? mix it up with idiot friends and did i mention letters? hogwarts!au

❀ notes — hi its dina! okay so this is actually an old incomplete jily au that i made ancient ago (2019) on twitter so i decided to revive it but with charles! hope you guys will like it!

0. prologue

the headgirl and the headboy

the anti quidditch club

4th gen marauders knockoff

0. prologue — rumor has it

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stripedstarsblueflags · 5 months ago

Note

for the hurt/comfort dialogue game - 6 and 21 for sargebon :)

MY FIRST PROMPT!! im so excited!

may have gotten a little carried away with this just a little. no beta we die like fourth of july at silverstone. TW for mental health

“Did you miss me?”/“You’re a terrible liar.”

When Alex emerges onto the roof deck of the hotel, he almost expects Logan to not be there.

Not that he thinks Logan would lie to him. But when Logan had finally picked up the phone after a day of missed calls and one-sided texts, the conversation hadn’t started well.

”What,” he’d snapped on the second ring. “This better be good. If you call me one more time I’m blocking you.”

Alex had been taken aback, flinching in place like a chastised kid. Logan’s tone was defensive, nearly a snarl; all the menace was aimed at Alex, but Alex had still felt more worry than fear. He’d seen Logan once since the crash, on his way back from medical. And then nothing.

”You didn’t answer me,” he’d said after a delayed moment. “I was worried about you. I didn’t see you since the cr– since practice. I was freaking out, okay?”

Logan a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “You saw me get out of the car. I got cleared by medical in, like, two minutes. There are probably ninety people who could’ve told you I was fine.”

And Alex had bitten his lip against the sudden urge to yell into the phone, because that wasn’t fair. His pent-up frustration and fear and distress wasn’t Logan’s fault.

Instead he’d looked around his empty hotel room, paranoia coiling around his spine, and lowered his voice: “James barely even talked to you. Why would I trust anyone there if you were actually fine or not? The way they didn’t let me see you?”

”Wait, when?”

”All day! Jon was practically yelling at me!” Alex did shout then. He didn’t mean to, but the words tumbled out of his mouth with heavy and unrelenting force, like a weight he could barely lift. He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes, willing Logan not to hang up. “I just wanted to see,” Alex tries, then his voice was too quiet. He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to see for myself if you were okay because, Logan… it looked bad. Really bad.”

Logan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, static crackling through the speaker. “It wasn’t that bad,” he mumbles. “I walked it off.”

”Don’t try that with me,” Alex said. “I can hear it in your voice.”

”You don’t hear shit,” Logan retorted, but there was no heat behind his voice at all. He just sounded tired, and in pain.

Alex ignored the weak deflection. “Where are you right now?” he asked. “I know it’s late, but–”

”I’m on the roof,” Logan had told him, and that in and of itself was surprising. That Logan would answer him so quickly, and without any snark or rebuttal. That he’d answer at all. Alex thinks of the endless weeks of summer break, the endless silence between them.

”Okay,” he said. “Wait a minute, I just need to get something warmer on.”

The roof deck is large, with sweeping canopies and dead firepits, so many couches and chairs that in the dark he feels like he’s in a cushioned maze. Still, it’s almost completely empty, so it doesn’t take long to find Logan.

Alex joins him at the railing, panes of glass separating them from the dizzying drop below. He takes one look over the side and his stomach rolls; the glittering city lights and streaking cars blur together in a smear of vertigo. He white-knuckles the railing.

Logan had been impossible to read when Alex first joined him, but as Alex stumbles he reaches out and puts a steadying hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Woah there,” he says. “You can’t go over the edge, you’ve got a race tomorrow.”

His words sound like they should hold something sharp– resentment, jealousy, some bitter and unforgiving edge. But instead his eyes are smiling and he’s laughing around his words. The glow from the city underneath paints one half of his face in gentle gold, the rest of it purple from the nighttime shadows. His hair is wild from the wind, whipping around his eyes. He takes his hand off Alex’s shoulder to push his bangs away from his face.

Alex is wishing he’d worn something with a hood. The wind stings his cheeks and makes his eyes water. He shuffles forward, curling his shoulders in, and manages to put his hands back on the railing without collapsing. “Wind’s still crazy,” he mutters.

”You didn’t have to come up here.”

”No, no,” Alex backtracks, all but stuttering. “I wanted to be here.” He hears the desperation in his own voice, the eagerness to contradict, and cringes. Does he always have to sound so obvious?

Logan turns to face him. He has to lift one hand to the right side of his face to keep his hair back, and now his entire face is in shadow. Deep blue shadows hide his eyes. His lips look almost purple in the darkness. It makes Alex want to be closer just to see his face.

”What,” Logan begins, and Alex doesn’t see but hears the slant in his smile. The cocky way he tilts his head back, the way he lets his laughter slip into his voice. “You missed me that bad, huh?”

Alex is unexpectedly flustered. He looks away without meaning to, but that means he turns his eyes right into the gusting wind, and the stinging is sharp and immediate. “Ah,” he grimaces. “I can’t see.”

”You wouldn’t last a day in Miami.”

Alex is trying to protest that he’s lasted a day before, more than a day, admittedly without any storm activity on race weekends but his hastily formatted argument falls to pieces when Logan steps back to take off his hoodie.

His shirt rides up as he does it. Alex absolutely does not stare.

Logan tosses it at him. “Put this on,” he says. “I can’t talk to you while you’re losing a fight with the elements.”

Alex grumbles his protests but puts the hoodie on anyway. It’s warm with Logan’s body heat, a tender relief from the cold. It feels like being embraced. He sighs contentedly.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Logan taunts. “I’m gonna want that back.”

Alex pulls the hood up, and the sounds of the city at night fade away. The shrill rushing of the wind quiets and the clearest sound in the air is Logan’s voice.

“’ll give it back,” he promises. “Are you sure you’re okay, though?”

Logan tilts his head down and crosses his wrists over the bar. “I’m cleared to race tomorrow.”

”That doesn’t answer my question.”

”You’re not gonna let this go until I tell you, are you?”

“You know me too well.”

Logan scoffs, then closes his eyes like he’s given up. “There’s some bruising on my ribs and my shoulder that’ll take some time to heal. And I did something to my wrist getting out, but I can still steer, I’ll just ice it after the race.” He looks down at his right hand and turns it over, fingers curling slowly into a fist, then releasing. “That’s all.”

Alex waits.

“That’s all,” Logan insists. “I saw the footage. It looked worse than it was.”

“It looked pretty bad,” Alex whispers, and he doesn’t mean for it to come out as a whisper– a broken, unstable hush– but his voice won’t resolve. “I was scared.”

”I’m sorry.”

”Don’t be sorry.” Alex lays his hand over Logan’s outstretched wrist, and it shocks both of them.

Logan stares at Alex’s hand, lips parted, eyes still in shadow. Alex holds his breath, waiting to be shaken off, pushed, slapped. But Logan only stares.

Alex takes his other hand and slides it carefully under Logan’s, stabilizing the wrist. Alex has the sleeves of Logan’s hoodie halfway over his palms, but even through the fabric he can feel how cold Logan is. He steps closer.

“You didn’t get out of the car,” Alex says.

Logan tries to draw his hand away then, rolling his shoulders, but Alex doesn’t let him. He holds Logan’s hand tenderly but firmly, lacing their fingers together. Logan watches him do it without resistance, his face impossible to read, but his head is tilted just slightly in Alex’s direction.

”There was fire.”

”I got out.”

“Not when you should’ve. George told me. You just sat there. In the middle of the track. Burning…”

Logan squeezes his eyes shut, clenches and unclenches his jaw. “I didn’t know.”

”Logan, you’re a terrible liar.”

Logan lifts his head and looks steadily at the horizon, swallowing hard. As he turns back to the light, Alex can see the shine in his eyes. “You know,” he murmurs to the city. “Even before I hit the grass I knew, I just knew I was gonna lose it.” He pulls his free hand in and taps his fingers restlessly against the railing. “And then it all just–” he raises that arm and flings his hand out, miming a shunt. “It all just happened so quickly, I remember hitting the wall the first time and the car was in the air and I just thought, ‘This is it.’ This is the end.”

Alex tries to speak, but suddenly he can’t breathe. This is the end. He feels like razor blades are sinking into his throat, the concept whirlpooling in his head like the vertigo. He tries to close his eyes, it the burning afterglow of the city flashes behind his eyelids like fire. He holds Logan’s hand a bit tighter, needing to reassure himself that he’s actually there.

Logan winces, and Alex eases up a little. Logan doesn’t pull away.

“And then it wasn’t,” Logan continues. He pushes out the sentence in a stuttering breath, and the broken smile on his face clearly means he’s trying to laugh, but the sound is jolted and unnatural and he gives up. “And I just sat there like, No, this can’t be right. Like maybe I just had to wait for it.”

“No,” Alex chokes out. He looks at Logan through his tears, willing the other man to turn, to look at him, to give him the mercy of eye contact. He stares helplessly, but all he sees is Logan’s blurred profile. “Logan…”

Logan ducks his head again. “It wasn’t,” he mumbles. “I mean it wasn’t, like, over for me. I told you. I was fine.”

”If you’re waiting in a track when your car is on fire, you’re not fine,” Alex counters fiercely. It’s dark, but his tears are obvious in his voice, the way the words come out strangled an painful. He doesn’t care. “It wouldn’t just be the end for you. You know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

Alex pulls his hand away so he can grab onto his hair, pulling in frustration. “You think we’d be fine?” he shouts. “You think everyone else would just move on after a fire like that? You think you can just leave?”

Logan finally turns to him then, but Alex isn’t done.

“We were scared. Fucking hell, you nearly gave George a heart attack. We thought something was wrong. We thought you weren’t gonna make it out!”

“But I did. It’s fine.”

“IT’S NOT FINE!”

Logan reaches out with his good hand and gingerly pulls Alex’s fingers out of his hair. Alex’s hands are shaking; Logan laces their fingers together, drapes their hands back over the railing. “Hey,” he whispers. “Calm down, okay? You sound like you care more than I do.”

“I think I do,” Alex spits out.

“Alex…”

“You can’t fucking leave.” It sounds like a demand, it sounds like a plea. And in a way it is; he’s begging Logan to understand, to show some regret, to somehow prove the danger is really over. “Please, Logan… it would kill me.”

Logan says nothing, just stares back. The wind ruffles his hair. He licks his lips.

”You can’t leave,” Alex insists. He’s repeating himself. He’s a broken record, but he can’t pull any more coherent thought together. The only thing that exists in his mind is the paralyzing urgency to make Logan understand. “Promise me that won’t happen again.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “That I won’t crash again?”

“You know what I mean.”

Logan looks down at their joined hands. “I don’t know why you care so much.”

It’s Alex’s turn to roll his eyes, putting as much exasperation in his heavy sigh as possible. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”

Logan laughs bitterly. “What? You’re confusing me, man. You say you care, and then you’re yelling at me, you wanted to make sure I’m fine but you don’t believe me when I tell you I am? Like, jesus christ Alex, what do you want from m–”

Alex has heard enough. He steps forward and takes Logan in his arms.

Logan flinches at first, hands raising almost defensively, a shudder racking his body.

Alex is patient. Logan feels so cold and small in his arms; he’s never felt their height difference more. He runs his fingers through Logan’s hair.

Logan folds all at once, dropping his head onto Alex’s shoulder and staggering to the point where he almost topples them both. Alex stabilizes them as Logan grabs him around the ribs, hands crossed over the small of his back, holding too tight like he’s afraid Alex might let go at any moment.

Alex lets Logan hold him, hurt him. Logan’s shaking in his arms, hitching in breath, nearly choking. Alex holds him through it.

“I got you,” he soothes. “I got you. You’re not going anywhere.”

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 rpf #fan fiction #fanfic #oneshot #ask game #send asks #writers on tumblr #logan sargeant #ls2 #sargebon #alex albon #aa23 #223 #hurt/comfort #dutch gp 2024

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schvmacher47 · 11 months ago

Text

venus | oscar piastri (preview III)

oscar piastri x fem oc

author's note: enjoy this little preview of my beloved best friends to lovers story, which i am currently uploading on wattpad! i would appreciate it so much if you would give my work a chance and i am 100% sure you'll love kaia as much as i do! feel free to share and also come over to my wattpad to enjoy the full thing. much love xx

read preview I & II here!

13 | how i obsessively adore you

»You know, I’m getting major flashbacks right now. This feels like the old Prema days all over again.«

»Oh really?«

»I’d call this a proper full circle moment.«

»Oh so you want the full Prema experience?«, I grinned, immediately turning on the camera and practically shoving it into his face. »How about this then?«

»And here I was thinking you were past the days of ambushing me with a camera.«, he complained. »You better cut this out!! I swear, if this makes the final cut…«

»Well, you did say you wanted the full Prema experience… So don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.«, I steadied the camera in my right hand, a grin still present on my lips. Oscar just shook his head at me, a smile tugging at his lips nonetheless as he finally fell back into the old habits of his Prema days.

»So we’re here in Monza..«, he began, stating the obvious. »Not so much in holiday mood this year. No thongs, all serious business.«, he added, grinning, referring to last year’s mishap. I rolled my eyes. »We get it Mr. popular F1 driver…«, I mumbled, shaking my head. Oscar chuckled, ignoring my playful jab.

»I’m being serious! Gotta be focused all the time. But yeah, it’s definitely great to be back.« I nodded in agreement. It all felt so familiar, as if it never really changed. As if it was yesterday, Oscar was still in F2, just about to win the championship in Abu Dhabi. I was experiencing a proper deja vu, it almost gave me the chills.

»So what’s the game plan for today?«, I asked, getting back to our little made-up interview as we made our way to the gates of the F2 and F3 paddock.

»Well, this isn’t our strongest track this year. Low downforce, high speed. Not really suiting our car, but we’ve been working hard and my pace yesterday was quite good. So the main goal is to score some solid points, maybe even a podium… Monza can be quite chaotic so…«, he shrugged.

»Confident as ever, huh?«, I remarked, a smile playing on my lips. »It wouldn’t be a proper Italian GP without a bit of drama..«, I agreed, secretly hoping and crossing my fingers for another podium finish.

»Confidence is key and a little bit of luck here and there doesn’t hurt either..«, he quipped, shooting me a playful look. I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

»Speaking of luck, any superstitious rituals this time?«, I asked, but definitely wasn’t prepared for the answer Oscar was going to give me despite him already mischievously grinning.

»You know I’ve added a few new ones since the Prema days. Can’t spill all the secrets though.«, he grinned. »Let’s just say there’s a lucky charm involved.«

»Intriguing.« That cheeky little bastard. He was clearly referring to Silverstone. My cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, growing suspiciously hot and I was just glad that nobody was there to witness it. Oscar’s mischievous grin widened as he noticed the subtle blush creeping onto my cheeks.

»She’s blushing.«, he mouthed, definitely not planning to stop teasing me anytime soon.

»Am not!«, I protested, already thinking of how I can best cover up this situation. He glared at me, a smile tugging at his lips as if he was trying to say ‘you sure are’.

»But for anyone wondering, no I won’t go into further detail. I don’t plan on sharing my lucky charm anytime soon. I’m definitely not gonna favour any of my opponents, that’s for sure.«, he quickly added, closing off that part of our conversation.

I bit down on my lower lip, trying to control and stop the blood rushing to my cheeks. If people only knew what he was talking about. I gulped as I pulled out my passes just to press them on the scanner seconds later to enter the paddock area.

»You know it’s only fair if I get to film some bits too, I’m pretty sure people would love to see what you actually do behind the scenes.«, he said, pointing at the camera in my hands. If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man walking. I knew he was up to no good.

»Oh come on, you tortured me all season last year, just let me have fun this one time?«, he practically begged until I gave in.

»Fine…«, I sighed and handed him the camera. Internally, I already prepared for my own downfall. I knew that he would get back at me for every single bad angle and ‘torturing’ challenge I put him through. He was most definitely going to beat me at my own game.

Seconds later, I was the one awkwardly smiling into the camera.

»So folks, it’s finally my turn now. I’ve been waiting for this moment since last year!«, Oscar declared, dramatically gesturing behind the camera.

»You better not make me look ridiculous. You know I still have unseen footage from last year.«

»I don’t care, your bribing won’t work today.«, he grinned, as we were on our way all the way to the back of the paddock.

»But let’s start easy, what’s your plan for the day?«

»Well, hopefully we can celebrate a championship.«, I said, shrugging my shoulders. »Apart from that, just the usual things, might start editing in the break between F2 and F1, depending on what mood I’m in.«, I added. »And I can’t wait to go home again tonight.«

»No books involved in your planning?«, he asked in disbelief.

»I’m here to work, and considering my plans for later, I actually don’t have the time to read.«

»I’m actually shocked.« I chuckled at his facial expression, pure disbelief visible on every inch of his face.

»Anyway, let’s stay with the books for a second. Last book you read?«

»Some random biography on the plane to Zandvoort.«, I lied, knowing that if I named the book I finished two days ago, we’d end up in the same situation as the morning after Silverstone.

»Lies. I call lies.« Shit. I was fucked. There was no way he'd skip this one now.

»How would you know?«, I tried to overplay it, not daring to look at him. I knew he had that smug grin on his lips knowing he caught me.

»Well I don’t want to break it to the world, why don’t you tell them about your reading habits like you told me?«, he asked, raising an eyebrow. I shot him a death glare. There was no way he was using that conversation from that morning against me right now.

»Ohw come on Kaia, it’s not that bad.« No, just ‘soft porn’ as he liked to call it. Just when I thought the red tint had finally left my face, I felt my cheeks growing very warm again.

»Fine, the last fictional novel I read was ‘The Cheat Sheet’.«, I gave in. »It was very good, definitely a recommendation worth.«, I added. »And no, not for the reason you’re thinking it’s recommendation worthy.«, I grumbled, shooting Oscar another death glare before he could even dare to say the ‘forbidden’ words.

»For anyone who's interested, it’s best friends to lovers, but both of them think they’re in the friendzone with the other one, but they’re both in love with the other. They’re so in love, it’s almost annoying. Like, why don’t you just tell each other.« I explained, glancing over at Oscar, giving me the ‘I see what you did there’ look. I grinned in so thought victory, until the mischievous grin spread on his lips again.

»So it wasn’t just soft porn?«

»Oh for fucks sake Oscar!«, I exclaimed, my cheeks blazing with embarrassment.

»Don’t blame me, you’re the one who made it sound so scandalous in the first place, if I remember correctly.«, he grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

»So if I heard correctly, you’ve basically been reading about us, huh?«

»Oh my god, stop it, will you?«

»No, winding you up is too easy and easily my most favourite thing to do.«, he grinned.

»That’s it, I’ve had enough.«, I grumbled, closing the gap between us to try and get my camera back. »Can I please get my camera back? I think you’ve embarrassed me enough for the rest of this season.«, I added and let out an annoyed groan, when he held the camera far out of my reach. He just grinned, stopped in his tracks and held the camera above his head. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, shooting him yet another death glare, but he just grinned at me victoriously. I got on my tiptoes, trying to reach for the camera, but my arm just wasn’t long enough.

»A kiss and I’ll think about giving it back to you.«, he grinned, trying to bribe me.

»You’re impossible.«, I muttered, already scanning our surroundings for the possibility of any prying eyes. Oscar’s mischievous grin widened, as he continued to hold the camera just out of my reach. It was clear that he was enjoying every single bit of annoying me.

»Fine..«, I sighed, ready to surrender. Getting on my tiptoes again, I pressed a quick kiss on his cheek.

»You know that’s not what I meant.«, he chuckled at my terrified expression.

»Feeling a bit risky, are we?«, I said, raising an eyebrow.

»If it means I get a kiss from you, then yes. Definitely.«

»Oscaaar…«, I whined as a laugh shot through his body. He put his arm, that was not holding the camera, around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. I could feel the warmth of his body radiate against mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t help, but look into his eyes, getting lost in the infinite shades of brown. I was unable to suppress the smile that was tugging at my lips, as I felt my tummy doing turns again.

»If this ends up on the internet, you’re the one who’s gonna deal with it..«, I mumbled, as I brought my right hand up to his face and ran it through his hair.

»I don’t care.«, he whispered. His mischievous grin faded away as our faces drew closer. His lips were just mere inches away from mine and it felt just like the very first time.

He was so close. So close, I could tell every little detail of his skin. Every little detail of his eyes.

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cutielando · 5 months ago

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question🫶🏻

i was wondering, as always

i’ve only been writing for a handful of drivers in my fics, and i was thinking that maybe you guys would like to see me write about other drivers as well

if so, i’m going to leave a poll here for you with some drivers i consider that i could vibe with and write for and pick the top 3!

#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #alex albon x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #fernando alonso x reader #logan sargeant x reader #ollie bearman x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #sebastian vettel x reader

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libraryofsecretfantasies · 11 months ago

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Driven to Distraction

Max Verstappen x OFC. WOC. NSFW One shot. This is a long one.

The tension crackled between Max and Tara as they stood face to face in the locker room, their rivalry simmering just beneath the surface. Both accomplished F1 drivers for the Red Bull team, their competitive spirits burned bright, fueling the fire of their heated argument.

"You think you're invincible, don't you, Max?" Tara spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "You act like nothing can faze you, like you're some sort of racing god."

Max smirked, his confidence unwavering. "Damn right I do, Tara," he shot back, his tone laced with arrogance. "I can handle anything that comes my way on the track. No distraction, no challenge, nothing can break my focus. I'm the best, and you know it."

Tara's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in their depths. "Is that so?" she challenged, her voice low and dangerous. "Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

Max's smirk widened, thinking he had won the argument. "Yeah, we will," he replied smugly, turning to leave the locker room, convinced that he had bested Tara once again.

But as Max strode away, Tara's lips curled into a devious smile. She watched him go, her mind already working on her next move. Max may have thought he had won this round, but little did he know, Tara had something up her sleeve, something that would shake his confidence to its core. She was determined to prove that she was too was a force to be reckoned with. ---The next morning---

The sound of virtual engines filled the room as Max was engaged in a heated competition. His fingers danced over the controller with precision, his eyes fixed on the screen as he battled against his formidable opponents: Charles, Lando, and Alex. He had only four more laps to finish, and he was in the lead. Nothing can stop him now.

He felt someone enter the room. Tara. They had started their fight in the locker room after training, and finished it in bed that same night. No one knew about their relationship, and it was to remain that way. When Max woke up the next morning he knew he would wake up alone. Tara was long gone. That was their arrangement - they fight, they fuck, and they race.

So when Max joined his Twitch livestream, he was completely unaware that Tara had returned to his home. He tried to ignore her presence, but as he turned into the final fourth lap, he felt something touch his leg. Two hands going up his leg, and resting on his thighs. He jerked and glanced down, his eyes widening at the sight below him.

Beneath the desk, hidden from the prying eyes of his streaming audience, Tara knelt, her fingers tracing tantalizing patterns along the inside of Max's thigh. She had lipstick on. Red, just like he liked it. Her dark hair was out, and she didn't have a top on. The sight of her tits out almost made him throw his controller and suck her nipples, but he remembered their argument. Nothing could distract him from a race. Her eyes had a wicked gleam in them. She placed a finger on her full lips. An instruction - be quiet.

She slowly pulled down his shorts, until they were around his ankles. His cock was hardening, as she ran her hands up and down his leg. She stared slow, peppering his thighs with kisses, her breath hot against his skin, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume his every thought. She saw Max's cock twitch and she smiled. This was going to be easy.

Above the table, Max had grown quiet. His hairline was itchy, his breath was starting to get heavier and his brows furrowed. Charles, Max's closest friend and fiercest rival, couldn't help but notice the subtle change in Max's expression. With a quirk of his brow, he leaned in closer, his voice filled with concern. "Hey, Max, you seem a bit... preoccupied. Everything alright over there?"

Just as Max was going to answer, he felt Tara's tongue on his balls. Fuck, she was licking them like they were her favorite ice cream. His cock was in her hand, and she was thumbing his tip. Fighting to maintain his composure, Max tried to think of answer. "Feeling the heat of the competition, Charles," he replied, his voice strained with arousal.

At this point, Tara had taken his cock in her mouth, paying special attention to the tip. She alternated between sucking the top and kissing it. She wanted to take her time, really draw this out. One of her hands was still stroking his cock, the other fondling his balls with a gentleness that wanted to make Max scream with frustration. He wanted more.

Charles grinned, his gaze lingering on Max's flushed face. "Sure, buddy, but it looks like you're feeling something else entirely," he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Max's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to deflect Charles's suspicions with a carefully crafted double entendre. "Well, you know me, always striving to come out on top," he replied.

Charles chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Yeah, I can see that," he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just make sure you don't burn out before the finish line, alright?"

He smiled at that, "Don't worry about me, I'm always in control." As he spoke, he jerked his hips up so that his cock hit the base of Tara's throat. Caught by surprise, she gagged a little, but recovered. She had planned to be gentle, but if he wants a challenge then so be it. She took his entire length in his mouth, and sucked like her life depended on it.

Max let out a string of curses, and she knew that he fucked up in the race. She looked up at him, her lips still around his cock. He shot a glance down and back up to the screen, "Its fine, I'm still in the lead". It seemed like he was reassuring the stream viewers, but Tara knew he was actually telling her. At that she stuck her tongue out, so she'd lick his balls whenever she took his full length in. His cock was rock hard, she was having trouble taking him in, but she couldn't give up.

It was the last lap now and he could feel the tension building within him, sweat was rolling down his forehead and his breath was heavy. Tara's hand was now wrapped around his cock, pumping him as she sucked his tip. Her other hand still fondling his balls. Max was close, in every sense of the word

Tara was unrelenting, she kept sucking knowing that the finish line was fast approaching. Max could hardly breath, all he could feel was her lips around her cock. The finish line was right there, just a few more seconds. And just as he shot across the finish like, claiming victory against his opponents, Max's body tensed as pleasure ripped through him. Blood roared around his ears, and his vision turned white. His cum was spilling into her eager mouth as he rode the waves of his release.

As the cheers of the crowd echoed through the room, Max couldn't help but moan in ecstasy, knowing that he had conquered both the race and the ultimate challenge by his secret lover. He had slumped back into the chair and smiled lazily at the screen. He looked below his table and saw Tara still kneeling with her head resting on his leg. Her hand was still around his cock as it grew soft.

He reach down and placed his hand in her hair, stroking it and petting her. She had done well. Tara looked up at him with a hazy look in eyes, that previous fire had dimmed. A drop of his cum was on the corner of her lips and Max couldn't help but wipe it with his thumb.

She smiled at him, and in that moment of sweet victory, he realized that some thrills were worth risking it all for.

#max verstappen #formula 1 #original female character #f1 #oneshot #charles leclerc #lando norris #alex albon #celebrities #smut

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heliads · 2 years ago

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you always knew how to push my buttons

Alex Albon, long-suffering woman in motorsport, would really like to focus on her first year of racing for Williams. George Russell makes that difficult.

(or, girl alex galex)

masterlist

In Christian Horner’s defense, it wasn’t the worst idea. You have a second driver that’s doing badly, you need to pull them out but don’t want to look cruel, so you put in someone who’ll draw attention to who you’re currently sitting in your car instead of who you used to seat.

A girl is the perfect bargaining chip. The media gets so distracted by historic moments and trailblazers that they forget about the French kid Red Bull abandoned only a little bit ago, and when you tire of the girl, too, you can ship her back to reserve driverhood and still get the necessary pats on the back because, you know, you tried.

Alex Albon doesn’t want to be another token feminism card to play, though, and she certainly doesn’t want to stay in the shadows any more. This is something that Red Bull has learned upon hiring her. It might, perhaps, be something that they regret, because they’ve finally realized that Alex has absolutely no interest in being a little Media Darling Barbie for them, but they were still content to let her rot away in the aftermath of their fast-paced work environment.

Alex has her second chance now, though. She’s done her time in the prison of reserve driver status, and now she’s on the grid again. Williams is, admittedly, somewhat of a far fall from Red Bull, but every Icarus has their plummet to the sea, and she plans on reaching the glimmer of the sun again soon. She’ll be on a podium again. Then she can laugh at the rest of them as much as she pleases.

Until then, Alex is supposed to keep her head down but her chin up, ignoring all of the hundreds of people asking how terrible it must feel to only have less than two full years of being a second driver under her belt before getting booted. Her PR manager has trained her on how to handle the questions without getting abrasive. Williams is glad to have Alex on, of course, but they would really like it if she could play along with the interviewer circus for just a few months more before starting to crack.

Alex is not good at keeping her temper at bay. She is proving it now. It’s only a Thursday, barely a few races into the calendar, and already all of her media training is blinking out of her head like fading batteries.

One interviewer, seemingly sensing this, addresses his next question to her. “Alex, you’ve had a year to recharge as a reserve driver, and now you’re back with Williams. Are you disappointed to get your second chance only to be stuck with a backmarker team?”

Alex has often thought that it’s not drivers who should get media training but the actual media themselves, because how the fuck are you actually allowed to ask that in a professional setting. She grits her teeth into her best impression of a smile and tries to answer normally instead of, like, lunging out of the chair to gouge the guy’s eyes out or something. “I am happy to be back on the grid. Williams has given me a great opportunity, and it’s one that I’ll take as far as I can.”

The reporter frowns, scratching at his head a little before pressing further. “So you’re glad to be with this team, then? You wouldn’t have wanted any of the other teams to reach out with a contract?”

Alex stares at the guy. “I’m at Williams, and I like being here. Quit asking me about other people. Ask better questions.”

The interviewer purses his lips, giving Alex such vivid flashbacks of bitter and jaded old school teachers that she almost wants to ask the guy about his past career choices before turning to F1. However, she has a feeling that the only one who gets to be dissected about their resume is her. Delightful.

“That’s not really that nice, is it?” The man asks, voice so full of condescension that Alex has to squeeze her fingernails into her palms to avoid groaning out loud. “You know, when you first came to the grid, I thought you would be more friendly.”

“Yeah, well.” Alex says shortly. “There were nice girl drivers, but they couldn’t get through all of this. You’re stuck with me now.” Then smiles, like that’ll make all of this better. Oh, her PR manager is so killing her once this ends. Can the team doctors mend broken bones before Friday free practice begins?

The interviewer looks sour, but to her left, Alex actually hears someone laughing. She cocks her head to the side, curious to see who’s looking past her temper to discover a joke, and finds–

George. Of course it would be George.

George Russell is quite possibly one of the only people on the grid at the moment, or perhaps the entire world for that matter, who not only tolerates Alex’s snark and nonsense but likes it, too. Has since they were, like, tweens and teens. They’d observed each other in 2008, caught up between different karting circuits, but waited until 2011 to properly become friends. No self respecting twelve year old would ever interact with a boy who was merely ten, not while she was still winning, but fifteen and thirteen was better. They’re best now.

They were both small back then; George more so, almost a whole head shorter than Alex at that point, but he’s caught up remarkably fast, and not just in height. They were both stuck in the same fantasy, kids growing up at each other’s houses and dreaming of climbing the F3-F2-F1 ladder, and now they’re both here, swapping off places on the Williams team roster like a baton in a relay race. Time changes us all. They would never be the exception, even if it was kind of sort of wonderful back then, and Alex kind of sort of misses the way it was.

Not in the least bit because it meant less media duties for her back then. The interview ends in a pitiably long time, just long enough for Alex to wonder if reserve driverhood wasn’t better than this solely because she at least didn’t have to attend driver’s media days. She’s released soon enough, though, permitted to spill out into the dizzying sun of the paddock once more.

She pauses by the door to let George catch up to her; Alex likes walking quickly away, but she does owe George for breaking the ice back there. Once another driver had laughed, the interviewer could join in, nervously coughing and chuckling before quickly moving on to a better, more suitable candidate for terrible questions.

“D’you think I should put in a petition to the stewards asking for media days to be longer?” George asks conversationally, “I was kind of getting the feeling that you wanted to spend more time getting interrogated.”

Alex twists her face into a bitter glare. “I’d rather you just run me over with your car on Sunday and get the whole trouble over with. It’s like they want me to just start weeping over the wreck of my career already and give them a good show.”

George snorts. “They want drama, just ignore them. They’ll find a new victim soon enough.”

Easy for him to say, Mr. Saturday with the crisp Tommy Hilfiger lining on his new Mercedes team kit, he’s not the one getting picked to pieces. George had practically salivated over the shirt when he got his first shipment of merch, making Alex unbox it with him like they were vloggers or something.

He’d lingered over each cap and polo so long that Alex had threatened to slice the lot of it to ribbons with her box cutter unless he picked up the pace. Even still, George’s face had idled over the black and white fabrics long after everything was unpackaged, like he still couldn’t believe it was all real.

Alex stages a desolate sigh. “Yeah, yeah. They’ll all forget about me soon enough. It’ll be good.”

“Not all of them,” George corrects. “There’s still me, remember?”

His blue eyes are wide and accusatory. Alex finds it within herself to chuckle. “How could I not? We’ll skip media day and go hang out. Just us two.”

“Just us,” George repeats almost reverently, a prayer, a promise.

And it– it’s a joke, yeah, there’s no way in hell that either of them would be so dismissive of their seat that they’d willfully invoke the wrath of PR managers and team principles by skiving off entire days of the race week circus, but it’s still fun to imagine. George would be the one to do it with, anyway. George gets Alex. Always has.

Especially in connection with Alex’s hatred of the media. Alex has other hobbies than bashing interviewers, obviously, she does have a life that revolves around more than just despising bad questions and uncomfortable skits, but media duties are just such a prevalent part of being a driver that she can’t hide from them that often. That means someone has to hear her complaints, and more often than not, that person is George.

He’s quite used to it, though, having more than enough years to accept and subsequently tune out Alex’s rambling monologues on how useless it is to ask the same questions and hear the same forced answers every week without fail. More often than not, George is roped into various plots to get Alex out of the piercing eye of the camera, or at least make times like those more tolerable, like he did today.

A memory rises unbidden to the forefront of Alex’s mind. It was a few years back, when Alex was still with Red Bull and George was testing the limits of Williams. They’d been conducting post-race interviews, or Alex had, at least; George had appeared out of the mess of drivers and PR accomplices to kind of hover in the background of Alex’s frame, looming in a typical George-like manner.

Alex had really wanted to forget the whole race the second it ended– as if she couldn’t see Christian Horner shaking his head over the displays, as if all today accomplished wasn’t just a chance to give the public another set of Alex’s average speeds to be endlessly compared with Max’s– but the interviewer was dragging his heels, forcing one word answers into paragraphs of speculation.

At one point, the guy had pointed out a bloody scrape showing through Alex’s undershirt. She’d accidentally caught the skin against the edge of her car when she was getting out, but doubtless it would be used as just another chance to prove Alex wasn’t fit for the car or the team didn’t care about her or whatever. Alex wanted to leave, but the interviewer wouldn’t leave well enough alone, which meant it was time for more drastic measures.

She had rolled her eyes, then made some asinine one-liner about how that wasn’t the first time blood had shown up against a race suit. Jokes about periods always get the same awkward shuffling feet and vague mumbling about getting someone else to talk to. It’s a fairly dependable constant.

Everyone was uncomfortable, which was exactly what Alex wanted, because when they’re uncomfortable they don’t want her there anymore and she can leave. The interviewer already looked like he wished he could stab himself through the eyes with the metal straw Lewis was sipping through earlier that day, but George— George was still grinning. Fondly. And not at all put off.

Freak. Alex was kind of fascinated by him. Still is. If anything, the fascination has multiplied.

And that makes it sound like— but it’s not—

Alex has known George almost her entire life. As long as it mattered, really. Recently, though, she’s started thinking. About George. In ways that she had not before.

Because, at the end of the day, there is something to George Russell that Alex might have missed the first time around. Something she only noticed when he was getting out of the car, peeling off the outer layer of his race suit so she had no choice but to stare at the fireproofs skin tight against him. Or when he posted a hundred different shirtless selfies, practically daring her to look. It is not hard to look. Not at George.

George, who’s had her back since they were kids. George, who randomly interrupts her interviews to call her a warrior. Who goes on podcasts to go on long tangents about how Alex deserves better than she gets and calls her proper quick despite the fact that she’s past the days of winning everything. He’s in a Mercedes now, she’s in the dusty contrail of his speeding jet, and George still has the time of day to give to her. Maybe he’s the type of guy to deserve her looking.

It makes Alex seek him out more, even more than she did before. It makes her do risky, stupid things, like pull George into her driver’s room after another Thursday debrief so they can hypothetically make fun of all that was said that day but mainly just so she can sit right by him and look.

George is apparently immune to the looking. Alex is observing him like she’s one of the thousands of spectators out there, goggle-eyed and hopeless, but George seems not to notice it at all. Perhaps she should invest in a homemade sign or something. Maybe even a cardboard cutout of his face.

“There were quite a number of rumors about you today,” George is in the midst of noting, “mainly that you’re going to be switching teams already. If you are, can you tell me now so I can place bets?”

Alex laughs. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet, at least. Tell your fellow gamblers to cool it.”

George makes an elaborate display of shrugging. “You can’t be too sure of yourself. Ferrari’s always on the lookout for a new driver lineup, apparently, and McLaren’ll never pass up the chance for fresh blood.”

“I don’t want to give Zak Brown any of my blood,” Alex asserts, “But Ferrari would certainly be something. I’m sure the bad strategy is made up by other things like salaries and teammates. Charles is a pretty boy, isn’t he? That would help with the rest of it.”

George makes a sort of squawking noise in the back of his throat. Alex can’t honestly tell if he’s embarrassed for Charles’ sake or what, but there’s a hot pink shock of blush sitting high on his cheekbones now, starting to mottle his neck. “Did you just call Charles pretty?”

Alex’s nod is exaggeratedly slow, just to be obstinate. “Yes, I did. Boys can be pretty. Don’t forget what century you’re in, Georgie. We’re forward thinkers now.” She narrows her eyes a little, sensing weakness, then— “You’re pretty too, y’know that? Eyelashes and all.”

This, then, is the source of tension. George genuinely squirms in his seat, hands clenched on the armrests of his chair like he fully expects to melt into the floor if he isn’t white-knuckling the thing. “That’s— that’s not— I wasn’t trying to angle for a compliment.”

“You didn’t have to,” Alex says, divinely pleased with herself, “I gave it out anyway. Consider me in a charitable mood.”

George rolls his eyes. “Since when have you been charitable?”

Alex scoffs. “Since forever. I volunteer, y’know. I have been spotted giving caps to children.”

George settles back into his seat, a comfortable smile on his face. “I know. I take it back. You’ve always been good.”

It is, all things considered, a very simple thing to say. You have always been good. Good is subjective. The idea of Alex that exists in George’s head, the one that is good, she’s subjective too, not quite real but close enough. Alex wonders what that girl must be like, good enough to ease the annoyance of a friend’s teasing, enough to– to make up for the fact that it’s her, that it’s Alex, or maybe that was why George was here in the first place, because the Alex that won him over was the real Alex all along.

And it’s stupid because– Have you ever been alone in a room with a boy? The whole space is empty but he sits right next to you. And he’s looking at you like the sun, like the stars, like even as you blind him, he’s never seen anything better and he’ll keep on staring, just to see what else you can do. You’ve gone your whole life swearing up and down that just because you’re the only female driver on the grid, that doesn’t mean you’ll fall in love with the first male driver to stop and look at you twice, but.

George is looking at Alex, eyes half-lidded, mouth open slightly, mid-gasp without a sound, and Alex isn’t falling in love because she wouldn’t do that. If she did, though, she thinks it would not be the worst thing ever. She can hear her heartbeat echoing in her ears, loud as the drums race organizers bring out in the bands for their anthem before lights out and away we go. Just as bad, too, because the sound is tripping over itself, speeding up and slowing down and absolutely erratic.

Alex can feel her entire chest constricting, ribs bruising as they bend against each other. George tilts his head to the side, concern flickering over his expression. “Are you alright?”

No. “Yes,” Alex says. No.

George seems to believe this about as much as Alex does, and he reaches up to touch Alex’s forehead, two fingers exactly perpendicular against the warm flush of Alex’s skin. It’s so grandmotherly it’s almost ridiculous, George pursing his lips like he’s going to prescribe hot soup or a good night’s sleep or something else motherly and terrible, but instead he just shrugs and says that he doesn’t feel a fever. Alex doesn’t know if she’s more hurt by the dismissal or when George takes his hand away.

“You’re probably fine,” George tells her.

He’s leaned away again, but he keeps a firm hold on the same two fingers that had touched her skin like he’s nursing a cut, like having any contact with Alex should be imprinted into him forever. It makes Alex want to touch him again, forever, and never let go. They could be joined together at the hip physically instead of just metaphorically. It probably wouldn’t mess with racing that badly.

She lets out a weak chuckle. “Is that your expert opinion, Dr. Russell?”

George flushes, embarrassed, and looks away. “You probably won’t lose any limbs or anything.”

Alex cackles. “I should hope not. You’d have a terrible medical practice if I came in for a fever and you did, like, an amputation or something.”

George snorts. “It’s only the natural response to a fever, of course.”

He eyes Alex again as he says it, eyes rolling down her body as he mumbles the words natural response. Alex leans forward slightly, and George mirrors her by impulse. “Is that all that doctors do for their patients?” She asks under her breath. Not her best attempt at dirty talk, but she doesn’t really have the power to think of anything else more impressive.

It works, anyway. George shakes once, all over, a sort of head to toe shiver that forces the breath from his lungs. Alex can actually hear it as George’s words hitch in his throat, but there’s a sharp rap on the door before either of them can find out how he’ll respond.

George flies away from Alex, practically leaping off of the sofa as he attempts to quickly create distance between them. It’s a good thing that their intruder just stays on the other side of the door, announcing themselves to be Alex’s PR manager needing her to come out for another round of interviews before leaving, because George is panting like he’s run a footrace, all in the effort to make it seem like nothing had happened here at all.

Hadn’t it? Even as George announces that he’d better go since Alex is busy now, and even as Alex unhappily stands up at last to go face the dozen TikToks they’ll force her to make before she can escape again, she glances back one last time at the room before she leaves. It’s as if she’s expecting to see something there, some sign of the heavy tension that had been there just moments ago.

Nothing. Just creased pillows and an empty sofa. Alex indulges herself in a brief fantasy that there had been a better reason for that other than a brief conversation, but it can’t last long. She’s got media duties to scoff at, and she’s learned long ago that it’s better not to think excessively about George while there’s a camera in her face. For some reason, it causes her to lose all sense of what she’s saying.

The idea that something else could have happened, though, lingers in Alex’s head far longer than it should. It sticks around through free practice, appears in her thoughts after qualifying, even pops out of her head briefly during the race itself.

It’s turn four, Alex brakes as late as she dares, and as she pushes her foot decisively back onto the accelerator, her brain has the audacity to ask if maybe George would have touched her if they had stayed in that room even a little longer.

He had wanted to, maybe. His fingers had been clenching and unclenching the whole time, flickering in invisible piano-chord patterns ever closer to that gap where his leg ended and hers began. Senna, turning over in his grave, if you no longer go for a gap that exists, you’re no longer a racing driver.

This is what dumbstruck boys get you, then. At this point, Alex is feeling practically delusional. Half a second later, she remembers that she’s still, like, in a car, which is a more pressing matter to attend to than musings on what could’ve happened if more stars aligned, but. She does ask over the radio where George ended up when the race has finished, and she uses that information to decide to ask George to show up to her hotel room after night begins to fall.

This is no uncommon occurrence. The two of them often meet up at someone’s house or another’s room. It’s a more efficient vehicle for random conversations than extended phone calls. George appears at her threshold within ten minutes, panting slightly, and it could just be Alex’s overactive imagination, but she swears he looks nervous, like he wants something. They both do. Alex just has to be sure that it’s the same thing and not something grievously, totally different.

“So,” she says boldly. “Uh. Good race.”

George looks at her askance. “Yeah, thanks.”

God, it’s like they’re work acquaintances. Alex wants to die. How is it that she wants more, but the second she tries to say that, she becomes even less?

Second time’s the charm. She clears her throat. “I wanted to ask you something. About when we were in my driver’s room. Someone came in before– but I wanted to know if you, if we, were going to do anything if that hadn’t happened, and. Yeah.”

She is terrible. George still looks taken aback. “Oh, on Thursday? I don’t know, someone came in,” he repeats.

Alex is going to scream. “They did. If they didn’t, though.”

George swallows. “Right. I– I think I would have wanted something.”

As if that isn’t the vaguest thing that George could have possibly said. “Something?” Alex asks. "Like what, a new front wing?”

George sighs, exasperated. “No, Alex, like you.”

It hangs in the air for a while. Alex thinks that if she tried hard enough, she could actually see the words printed into the very oxygen she’s breathing. Like you. Alex, like you.

In retrospect, silence is not a good way to address such a thing. George, who has always been tense, who will always overthink things to the point of mental anguish, takes this as a sign that he misread the situation, and damage control is launched accordingly.

“Forget it,” George says abruptly, “This isn’t– Just forget it, alright? I’ll see you next week.”

He’s out of the door before Alex knows what’s going on. Alex stares open mouthed at the exit, a thousand thoughts churning through his head. As if Alex could just forget it. The idea is such an impossibility that it’s almost laughable.

Because– because Alex remembers what it was like, being young, being kids. Together. Alone in her house or his. A dozen inside jokes no one else gets. A hundred side eyes and bitten tongues and uncontrollable laughs. Alex ran away from it all when she was kicked off of Red Bull, when she was certain that it would never again be what it was– George her muse, Alex his idol, both of them the best and neither of them out of it. Running, though, running robbed her of it all. Alex wants it all more than she ever has before.

And maybe they’ll never have a podium together, and maybe Alex will never be at the top step of their pyramid anymore, but at this moment they’re two ships passing in the night, George relinquishing the Williams seat so he can hand it off to Alex, and maybe– maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s enough. If she tries hard enough, she can make it enough. Maybe he’d want it to be enough too.

Maybe he already did. Alex’s stomach twists as she thinks back to everything George has said to her over the recent months. He’s always been so genuine, says each word like he means it more than anything, but he’s put something extra into them as of late, something special. His hands move more when he speaks, maybe that’s it. Alex has taken the time to observe every digit, every ungnawed cuticle, every knuckle and bit of bone straining against the skin.

She’s watching for something, waiting for it to happen, and then in a clap of mental thunder Alex realizes that what she is waiting for has already occurred. George has already given her the go-ahead. Has many times over. Alex wasn’t aware of it because she was too scared to look, too afraid to ruin something good, but. Alex is looking now, and a far worse thing would be to have this before her and let it go.

Alex thinks about George wringing his hands and apologizing too much, lunging into her room before she barely even called him, second guessing and blindly firing and doing everything in his power to keep her. It’s stupidly charming, and overwhelmingly off putting at the same time, but it’s George, and it’s what Alex wants. Alex wants George. Alex wants George more than she has wanted anything. At times like this, she thinks she might give up anything else, that top step of the podium, the sweet taste of champagne scorching down her throat, if it meant she might be able to taste him, too.

Alex throws herself out of the room. George hasn’t made it that far, even despite his long, reedy legs, dragging each footstep like his shoes have been weighed down with iron. By contrast, Alex is jetting down the hall, sprinting out of her door so fast she’s not entirely sure that both her feet are ever touching the ground. She catches up to George in about half a heartbeat, thinks, fastest, thinks, pole position, and kisses him.

George goes as still as a statue. Alex is still moving when she hits him and does this abrupt careening around thing where her acceleration is still carrying her past him down the hall even as their lips connect. George has to catch her around the middle so she doesn’t fall over, his hands clumsily connecting at her waist, but at least that means he’s still thinking, because Alex’s brain shut off the second his mouth was on hers.

George has always been the thinker, though. George, sitting up late in the corner of the Albon family basement, blue eyes wide as he tucks his feet under himself and continues to extoll the virtues of minimized tire degradation, George, finally eye level with her and not looking up, matter-of-factly informing Alex that of course they’ll both be in Formula One together, are you kidding.

George today, brain whirring into overdrive, whose first thought isn’t to ask Alex what in the hell she’s doing but to urge the two of them to get back into her room before someone sees. Alex has no problem in accepting. Where he goes, she does too. They kind of work out like that.

And, when Alex wakes up lazy and late the next morning, when the first thing she spots is George’s shirt on the ground right next to hers, she remembers how well they work out, too. She stretches and yawns widely, flopping onto her back to discover that a) George is already awake, probably for hours (weirdo), and b) is now intimately connected with the most trustworthy news sources his phone can offer instead of with her (double weirdo).

Alex arches a brow over at him from where she still lies, tangled in linen sheets of a thread count that are probably higher than both their salaries. “Nothing like a fresh economic roundup to get you pumped to start your morning, huh, Georgie?”

George tends to pair a dramatic sigh with his eye rolls, Alex observes fondly. “There’s nothing wrong with staying informed, Alex. I’m not looking at the business section, though. I’m reading about us. Tabloids.”

For a moment, Alex’s heart freezes in her chest. She hadn’t counted on getting found out this quickly, and god, how could they, unless Red Bull really did want to capitalize on her downfall and, like, paid for a secret investigator to follow her around and take photos when she finally caved and pursued her best friend. Which, weird, but kind of foreseeable, too. They’d probably done it to Pierre at least once.

She scavenges about for her phone on the nightstand beside her and turns it on, typing geogre rhssel abd alrx albon tkgrther??? into the Safari search bar. She’s damn near unintelligible in her haste, but the search engine knows what she’s getting at and delivers anyway. Praise be.

Alex is expecting grainy surveillance photos of them making out in the hallway or something like that, but instead, she’s just greeted with more talk pieces on their long history together since they were karting kids, a few rumors here and there about what might be but nothing more than mere speculation.

“It’s okay,” she reassures George at last, “They don’t know.”

George frowns, still not entirely convinced. “It’s weird timing on a lot of these. At least three or four fan gossip pages put out stuff all last night. Why’d they all do it at the same time if they didn’t see?”

Alex shrugs. “Maybe they got bored, I don’t know. Odds are they saw us talking at the paddock earlier and decided to play off of interest so they posted.”

George counters, “Or, they might have posted, because we were, you know, we were kind of, uh, obvious, and–”

“We’re fine,” Alex says, rolling her eyes, “They don’t have anything new, just repeating the same stuff about how we might be fucking. No proof. Everyone’s dragging them for getting into pointless rumors.”

“Good,” George says, nodding his head emphatically like he’s committing every word to memory. “I don’t want anyone finding out that I– that we–” He can’t finish the sentence, unable to say more than a few words towards the audacious subject without tripping over the syllables.

Alex can guess at his meaning anyway, though, and it makes her laugh.

“What, you don’t want our bosses bringing up your potential plans to deflower me or something at the next team meeting, do you?” Alex says, cackling.

George’s cheeks turn an alarming shade of Ferrari red. “No. Not that.”

Still. Alex can’t tease him for blushing, because her cheeks have gone hot at the thought of it. If George were to– if they– It was a little late for that, of course, but if he really was the first–

“Your reputation remains intact,” Alex says, reassuring George of the truth but kind of herself, too. They’re both fine. No one knows. Wouldn’t it be something if they did, though. What they could do if they didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

Sometimes, Alex thinks that she does actually want to get caught. It would make sense. Every time she gets up the morning after, because it does happen again, despite both of them never formally saying it was a one time thing but kind of fearing it would be, anyway, every time she finds that they actually forgot to lock the door or they make out in one of the driver’s rooms such that you can still hear people going back and forth outside it, she remembers. George does too.

In fact, she thinks he likes it even better than she does. George Russell, newest boy to Mercedes, soon to a race win (everyone can feel it coming, even if it hasn’t yet), our glorious prodigy coming into everything, and the one who managed to get Alex’s heart, too, while he was at it. Heart and hands, body and soul. All of it. George has all of it.

It gets easier as time goes on, if that were even possible at all. How much can you improve upon a good thing when it already seems perfect? It’s like fine tuning a rear wing or shaving off seconds from a suspension. Alex never thought she’d describe love with something as insipid as car parts, but she has a sneaking suspicion that George might find it rather romantic. It’s relevant, at least, so that should count for something.

George would appreciate the practicality, at least. George would appreciate her. Does. Always does. Alex wakes up one morning, hair a mess, not sure which of their rooms she’s in nor if she had the presence of mind to carry her high heels back from the bar she’d been wasted at last night, and George still looks at her like she’s a work of art. He’s endearingly fond of her, which makes it even easier to be fond of him.

Alex thinks that she could be persuaded to stay here forever, lingering in this in between space of his-and-hers, the room belonging to both of them until she figures out which one of them has their name scrawled on the key card, but unfortunately there are still meetings to go to, interviews to conduct, engineers and team principles to appease.

Alex drags herself out of bed, grabbing the closest clean clothes before scraping at her hair with a brush and considering the whole affair handled as best it can be. Behind her, George’s figure appears out of the early morning shower mist on the bathroom mirror, the edges of his reflected skin and hair feathered over with steam.

“What do you think?” Alex asks, gesturing vaguely to herself with a languid hand, “Vogue cover ready?”

George snorts. “Oh, always. Do you have to head out already?”

“If I didn’t have to be somewhere soon, I would have slept in until noon,” Alex notes.

George hums in agreement. “So professional of you.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “You know me. Word on the street is that I’m highly coveted by all the teams for my winning mindset. That’s why they want me at the factory all the time, so no one can entice me away with a different contract offer.”

George laughs even despite the bad joke, then reaches to pluck at the fabric of Alex’s attire with a knowing, almost possessive, air of triumph.

“That’s my old shirt,” George observes, “You might want to change before you go out or someone’ll notice.”

Alex checks herself in the mirror, then shakes her head. George hasn’t gotten rid of all his old team kits, as it turns out; although this Williams tee isn’t Alex’s, it’ll do well enough. “It’s the same logo, how would they know it’s yours? It’s not got your name on it or anything.”

George’s eyes widen behind Alex in the mirror, veritable oceans swimming in the hazy glow of the hotel bathroom lighting. “What if they photograph you?”

Alex shrugs. “We’re the only ones who’ll know,” she tells George.

“Just us,” George agrees, but his hands coil in the extra fabric at the hem of her shirt, a silent reminder that it’s his, his shirt, his hotel room, and maybe– maybe Alex too, his.

The thought sends a hot shock coursing through Alex, pooling in her lower back near where George’s fingers still press against the fabric. She almost expects George to yank his hand back from an electric pulse when his knuckles accidentally brush her skin, but instead, he leans into the touch, and doesn’t let go until the stray buzzing from Alex’s phone grows insistent and it becomes clear that they can hide out here no longer.

Alex leaves first; George isn’t needed for half an hour after Alex, and they’re not stupid enough to leave a hotel together the morning after a drunken celebration. Not yet, at least. Idling listlessly in the elevator as it slowly ferries her down from the relative heaven of George’s hotel room, Alex thinks that it would be something to lose the last of her wisdom soon enough, to let the paparazzi catch her walking out of their shared hotel room, heels in her hands, dress from last night rucked up around her knees so she can walk.

Maybe she should tell George about it. She can imagine his reaction already, but the temptation of vocalizing it brings with it a sort of delicious rush that isn’t easily ignored. A ding echoes somewhere from the circuitry behind the wall of the elevator, and she steps out from the sliding doors, nodding at the receptionist before crossing the threshold.

The brightness of the morning blinds Alex when she walks outside. Somewhere out there, a car waits to carry her away, but for now, Alex lets the shocking sunlight bleach her clean of any expectations of driving or team principles or anything, anything at all.

She makes it halfway across the asphalt before giving in to the Orpheus-like temptation to turn back. Shading her eyes with her hand, Alex’s eyes chase the floors level by level until she finds one room in particular, one man who’s already gone to the trouble of throwing up the drapes on his window so he can peer out at the scene below. At her. She is in his shirt; was just in his room, in his bed; in his gaze now too, held and treasured.

Alex looks up at him and grins. “Good morning, Georgie.”

He can’t hear her. It doesn’t matter. They’ll have plenty of time for talking– and not– in the days and months and years to come. Just as before; so after, too. Alex would not want it any other way.

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