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diamonddaze01 · 3 months ago

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HEYYY. I read your off the record jeonghan's fic and OH MY GOD. IT WAS SOOOOOOOO AMAZING AND GOOD. CHEF'S KISS MWAH

I was wondering if you can do jeonghan 75 drabble. I would really really appreciate it. thank you and love you mwah

off the record

pairing: jeonghan x reader | wc: 1.3k prompt: "guess who's going to be a father!" au: f1 au | warnings: mentions of pregnancy a/n: hello hello nari your asks always make me smile <3 // this is a continuation of [on the record] bc ferrari!jeonghan lives in my head rent free (highly recommend you read on the record first for some context)

The atmosphere at the Australian Grand Prix was electric, the roar of the crowd still echoing as the last of the race cars pulled into the pit lane. Jeonghan had just secured yet another win, and the sea of Ferrari red flooded every corner of the paddock. The team was in chaos—cheers and hugs, champagne spraying everywhere, mechanics shaking with excitement—but Jeonghan’s gaze was fixed on something else.

You stood just outside the frenzy, leaning casually against the barrier, your camera poised as you snapped a few final shots. You’d been here before, a part of this circus. But today, you had a story of your own to deal with, one that Jeonghan was certain would find its way to his attention.

Jeonghan peeled off his helmet and flashed a grin at the crew as they crowded around him. But his eyes were still searching for you.

A few weeks ago, you'd written something that had the entire paddock talking.

"Guess Who’s Going to be a Father!"

Yoon Jeonghan, Ferrari’s golden boy, had been linked to a famous model, Sienna Hartley, the stunning up-and-coming fashion icon known for her work with luxury brands. A few months ago, the paparazzi had caught the two of them together at a private event. The photos were casual enough—Jeonghan with his arm around her waist, a smile that seemed too comfortable—but it was the following week’s headlines that sent the media into a frenzy.

The shots of Sienna taken at an upscale café, her baby bump unmistakable under a form-fitting dress, had people running wild with speculation. Was Jeonghan going to be a father? Had he been keeping a secret relationship? The rumors only grew when neither Jeonghan nor Sienna commented on the speculation, leaving fans and gossip columns to fill in the blanks.

The rumblings were only growing louder, and of course, you had jumped into the fray, teasing the possibility of Jeonghan becoming a father. The headline had been coy but suggested a connection between the two, leaving just enough room for interpretation. And now, here he was, stepping out of the car, knowing exactly who was responsible for the chaos.

As he walked toward you, the crowd parted around him, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. He could practically feel the mischievous energy radiating from you, even from a distance. The subtle smirk tugging at your lips was all the warning he needed.

Jeonghan approached with slow, deliberate steps, his face a mixture of amusement and challenge. "So we write fake articles now, do we, sweetheart?" he called, his voice carrying across the pit lane.

You didn’t even flinch. With a calm, collected posture, you raised an eyebrow, offering him a half-smile as you lowered your camera. "Just reporting what people are saying," you replied smoothly, voice teasing. "You know, about you possibly becoming a father this year."

"People are saying that?" Jeonghan asked, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. He stepped closer, clearly enjoying the tension building between you two. "Maybe you’ve been spending too much time with the gossip columnists, huh? Could’ve sworn the last time I checked, we were talking about race wins, not baby bumps."

You shrugged, not missing a beat. "Well, Jeonghan, it’s not my fault your personal life keeps getting more interesting than your driving. You really should be more careful with who you’re seen with."

His eyes darkened playfully. "Careful? You think I care about rumors?" he quipped, leaning in just a little bit closer, his voice dropping to a lower, more flirtatious tone. "But if you wanted to get my attention, sweetheart, there are far better ways than a headline about some fake baby."

You tilted your head, smiling in that way that always left him unsure whether you were teasing or challenging him. "Who says I want your attention?" you replied with a hint of challenge, crossing your arms as if daring him to press further.

Jeonghan’s smile only widened. "You’ve got my attention now, don't you?" he teased, his fingers brushing against the barrier you were leaning on, his proximity making it hard to ignore the way the air between you two shifted.

You glanced up at him, keeping your expression casual, but the spark in your eyes was undeniable. "Oh, I don’t know," you said nonchalantly, "maybe I’m just here to enjoy the view of a guy in red doing what he does best – reckless maneuvers that still somehow let him win, y’know?" You paused, letting that sink in. "Though if you really wanted to shut down those rumors, maybe you should take a different approach."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

You gave him a sly smile. "I don’t know. Maybe just come out and say you’re not the father. Or, you know, get more specific about who you’re spending time with. The fans love a good love story, after all."

The way his expression shifted made it clear that he wasn’t quite ready for this conversation to take that turn. His jaw clenched, a hint of frustration appearing under the surface, but it was quickly replaced with his signature smirk. "Sweetheart, you sure talk a big game for someone who's so quiet when it counts."

You leaned in just a little, enough for your words to linger in the air between you. "I could say the same about you," you shot back, eyes glinting with mischief.

Jeonghan paused, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth, but you had him on edge in a way that he didn’t expect. "Listen," he said, his tone dipping lower, his voice now laced with more than just flirtation. "There's only one girl in the paddock I have eyes for, and it sure as hell isn’t Sienna Hartley."

The tension between you two was palpable, a spark igniting in your chest at his words. You met his gaze head-on, not backing down. "And who says I’m interested in your attention, Jeonghan?" you shot back, smirking. "Maybe I just like watching you squirm under pressure."

He leaned in a little more, his breath coming out a little sharper. "You really think you can get under my skin with a headline like that?" he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "I’m not the one with something to prove, sweetheart."

You could feel his breath on your skin, but instead of feeling intimidated, a thrill ran through you. "Then why do you look like you’re about to lose that smug grin?" you teased, lifting your chin just slightly, making sure the challenge was clear in your words.

Jeonghan grinned, his teeth flashing. "Oh, I’m not losing anything," he said, the playful tone returning. "But if you really want to get my attention, there are better ways than headlines."

You smirked, standing your ground. "Oh? Well, if you want to do something better with your mouth than argue with me, you know where to find me." You shot him a quick wink and began to turn away.

Jeonghan's eyes widened for a moment as he processed your words, and for the briefest second, he was completely thrown off. His confident swagger faltered, and it was then that you realized: you’d left him flustered.

You glanced back over your shoulder with a smug grin. "But I’ll be honest, Jeonghan," you called out, "I’d much rather see you focus on keeping your title than keeping up with rumors."

And with that, you turned and walked off, leaving Jeonghan standing there, still processing your bold departure. His pulse was racing, but not because of the race. This time, it was because of you—your words, your attitude, and the way you had him on edge in a way no one else could.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, but the smile on his face betrayed how much he appreciated the challenge. “I should’ve asked her to dinner.”

But knowing you, this was far from over. And next time? He might just have something to say about it.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

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f1cflcfic · 2 days ago

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Won't Say I'm in Love (SMAU ft Lando Norris) part ii

pairing: lando norris x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n); past carlos alcaraz x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons

series: part i

end of January, 2025

1st week of February, 2025

[Excerpt from Red Carpet interview]

Hi Y/N L/N! We're so glad to see you here. First of all, congratulations on your win at the Australian Open.

“Thanks so much! I’m really excited to have started the year this way.”

We’re excited too – and very happy that you could make time to come here to London for this. Your calendar must be incredibly full.

“I do try and always have a week off after the Grand Slams at least, but the WTA Tour schedule has definitely filled out over the years. It’s always a bit of a puzzle to both ensure I can play enough, win points, and at the same time strike that right balance in terms of fitness. Both mentally and physically.”

And yet you’re adding work for yourself by not only being a top athlete, but now also a brand ambassador for Dior. What made you want to do this?

“It’s a really cool opportunity to just play dress up from time to time, to be honest. Plus, I love that they recognise athletes and sports can be high fashion, too. I always think of how incredibly inspiring Serena Williams is, both on and off the court for breaking boundaries and for showing that sports and fashion can go really well together.”

Did you get any time to relax at all?

"Weirdly, this almost feels relaxing to me, because of how much time you have to carve out and focus on yourself – without any performance target attached to it. But I’ve also taken some time to hang with my friends and family."

You’re turning 27 this year as well, and you’ve been a pro athlete for almost 10 years now. Obviously last year wasn’t the best for you, performance wise. Has that made you reflect on what those performance targets will look like in the future? What’s something you’ve learned in that time?

"I mean, the main goal for me would be to achieve a Career Grand Slam – and just play the best tennis that I can possibly play. And in terms of what I’ve learned, I would say that it’s to choose your friends, your team very wisely. Sometimes I’ve regretted missing major events, and sometimes I’ve regretted giving people too much room in my life. You need people who help you keep that balance.” People who keep you grounded, who tether you. Because being a pro athlete means you have to be really selfish from time to time, and it means sacrifice. I don’t see my baby niece as often as I’d like, for example. But it’s just the way it is."

2nd week of February, 2025

3d week of February, 2025

[Transcript excerpts of Quadrant video]

“Alright so we’ve got our pro-athletes here, ready to battle it out in a game of Wii Sports,” Max starts, quickly introducing Lando and Y/N.

“You are going to lose so bad, Norris,” she says.

“Oh I see, we’re already starting the trash talking,” he retorts. “Haven’t even started the game yet.”

“That’s half the fun, isn’t it? Are we also going to play Mario Kart after this, just to see if Lando has what it takes to beat me on there?” Y/N asks eagerly, turning to Max.

“No fucking way, you always cheat!” Lando exclaims, with Y/N heard protesting in the background. “No I don’t, I just use the shortcuts that exist in the game! That is legitimate!”

(...)

“Birdie gets a birdie,” Lando cheers, though Max quickly chides him for encouraging the competition. “What? It’s not like she’s going to do it again, she’s terrible at this game,” Lando adds, motioning at the otherwise abysmal golf score that Y/N’s Mii character has racked up.

“Hey! She is right here, and she is currently in the lead after winning the bowling and tennis already.”

(...)

“Do you feel good about beating up a girl?” Y/N pouts, after losing the boxing match between her and Lando. He immediately makes a face, spluttering out an indignant “no!” that elicits a laugh from Y/N.

“Alright, that’s enough from both of you. With Lando’s win, it’s now tied again with only baseball to go. We’ll allow you both to consult your coach before starting this next round.”

They both turn to their coach for the day, one of the other Quadrant members, before taking their places – Wii Remote and Nunchuk in hand.

“You ready?

“Ready,” they nod, looking incredibly competitive. They even try and push each other to mess up their scores, devolving into a tickle fight halfway through. “No, Y/N stop, stop, I can’t - I’m crying,” Lando laughs, face red with tears streaming down his face.

“Does that mean I win?” She looks up from where she’d all but tackled Lando onto the ground, but then Max just shakes his head.

“It’s very close – but you’ve got one more pitch to go. You’re gonna need to let Lando hit it, or at least try to.” As soon as the words come out of his mouth, he blanches. Y/N rolls her eyes but starts uncontrollably giggling nonetheless.

“I regretted it as soon as I said it,” Max apologises profusely, but the camera zooms in on Lando who’s trying to hide his face behind both his hands, wheezing as Y/N tries to stand up and compose herself. Once they’ve finally managed to continue, it’s Lando who has the tiniest edge over Y/N.

“Ugh, well. This better not be a bad omen for me this season, but I guess I’d quite like to see you win the championship, Norris.”

“That’s actually very sweet,” he slings his arm around Y/N’s waist, then cracks open the champagne and pours it out over the two of them, with Y/N shrieking loudly at the cold, stickiness.

"So glad that's not part of tennis traditions."

4th week of February, 2025

[Excerpt Exit Press Conference]

“BBC Sport here. Your track record on hard court against Iga is not the best, now with 4 wins and 5 losses. How does that affect your training moving forward?

"Well, it was really close – so I feel like those type of numbers don’t really mean that much when it comes down to just a handful of winners or errors. Iga and I have played each other quite often, and she’s just an incredibly strong player. There’s a reason she’s had a long run at #1 and has returned to that spot for now.

In terms of training, I mean, we’re moving to gravel soon so it’s a completely different ballgame. Literally. We might run into each other again at Indian Wells, so of course we’ll come up with a plan – but my focus is already shifting towards the next Grand Slam, to be honest.”

Question from ViaPlay. Indian Wells is of course known for being the Grand Slam of the West and it’s one of the few 1000s tours where both ATP and WTA players meet. Last year, you entered into the mixed doubles with your then partner. Is that something you’d consider doing again in the future?

"Thanks for the question, but no. I’m playing singles, I’m not ready to mingle – I’m ready to pringle."

Will you actually have time to pringle, as you say? Or is it straight back to training for you?

"I’m going to spend a few days just hanging out, especially because I now have an extra day off all of a sudden. So I’ll try to make the most of that, then switch gears. Thanks."

A/N: Hope this uploads from the airport!! lol - next part coming March 14th, featuring Indian Wells, an interview faux-pas by Y/N, and of course some very fast cars 👀

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

taglist: @linnygirl09 @julesbog @midnight-and-books @sarx164 @obxstiles @freyathehuntress @vhkdncu2ei8997 @berrnuu @lightdragonrayne

#WSIIL SMAU #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smau #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x fem!reader

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poppyflower-22 · 9 months ago

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Charles Leclerc

(These are just small discerptions that explain the one shot or parts as shortly as possibly)

I just find this so cute.

Still adding!

Fluff:

It seems Charles and reader have another son. Feat Ollie. HERE

Reader is a single mom. But Charles is in it from the start. HERE

* Charle's adopts Oscar. Feat Ollie being the best son. Humor. HERE

Bearman reader. When Ollie gets into F1 for just one race, his sister is there. She has always been there. Charles and reader being cute and Ollie being the cute sibling. HERE

Leclerc sister. Reader is going out, much to her brother's misery. HERE

* Hornor reader. Charles thought he would spend forever in Ferrari, but reader makes him see through the fake promise. Red Bull Charles. HERE

Charles wins and what better way celebrate then with the princess of Monaco. HERE

Sainz reader. A game of never have I ever has Charles running for his life and the rest of the grid. HERE

Reader gets jealous of Leo until he becomes a mama's boy. HERE

Social Media:

* Reader makes friendship bracelets and gives them out at the races. Everyone wants one. Everyone. Fans love her. HERE

Wolf reader. They are the modern Romeo and Juliet but with a happy ending. Feat Jack at the end. HERE

sports commentator reader. Reader is a Mecedes fan and Charels tries to make you switch teams. HERE

Sturniolo reader. Age gap. Hate comments. HERE

McLaren admin actress reader. HERE

Verstappen reader. Max didn't know until there went public. HERE

Horner reader. Reader releases a song, but her last relationship was four years ago. So, who is the new song about? HERE

Reader is a knitter and makes clothes. Feat Lewis the fashion icon. HERE

Hornor reader. Driver. Red Bull didn't give her seat, so Ferrier did instead. HERE.

With F1 couples breaking up, fans try to protect one of the last standing ones. No breakup. HERE

Verstappen reader. With Checo retiring. Who will take his seat? Humor. HERE

Another knitting reader. HERE

* Verstappen reader. Driver. Enemies to lovers. Protective brother Max. HERE

Actress reader. Fans see your chemistry with your new co start and love it, Charles on the hand. Dose not. HERE

Vettel reader. Now Seb isn't on the grid, everyone team wants her to cheer them on. Though Charles takes it a step further. HERE

Reader releases a new song fan can't help but think it's about a certain F1 driver. HERE

In The Middle:

Master list of all different Charles one shots. HERE

Charles is dating the princess of Monaco, but people don't believe him. HERE

Reader is sick and they find out the only person to save her is her unknown brother. Raeder is a Verstappen. Abandoned Verstappen. Sick reader. Royalty reader. HERE

Ferrari reader. Things need to change, and Charles calls you for help. HERE

Charles with witch reader. Charles breaks the Monaco curse. HERE

Series:

Engineer Reader. Social media. Part 1, HERE. Part 2, HERE.

Reader decides to hard Lauch her relationship and people react badly. Age gap. Australian reader. Hurt/comfort. People are hating on reader. Part 1, HERE. Part 2, HERE. Part 3, HERE

Leclerc sister. Full series. HERE

Full series. Charles is the ex-boyfriend. Ends with Aarron Taylor-Johnston at the end. HERE

Polly/Lando:

The boys love language seems to be polar opposites. Social media. HERE

* Max Verstappen's half-sister. Link is to the end of the series, but all chapters there. HERE. (My favorite serries)

The boys forget to get reader for their trip. She makes them grovel. Social media. HERE

Polly/Max:

F1 commenter. With recent interview people are picking sides. But maybe they don't have to. Social media. HERE

No one considered polyamory before branding the reader a slut. Social Media. HERE

Polly/ Alexandra Saint Mleux:

Obsessive exes. Slight Social media. HERE

Charles and Alex get clingy when reader is away. Partly Social media. Part 1, HERE, Part 2, HERE

You three raised your daughter together and now its time to show the world. HERE

Alex and Charles are public and not with Reader. Reader starts feeling left out. Leo is Reader's dog. But maybe it's too late. Max being a good friend. Hurt/Comfort. Made me cry a little. HERE

Dark/Possessive:

He is yours and you are his. Dark Charles. Babby trapping. Social media in part 2. Jealous. Smut. Part 1, HERE. Part 2, HERE

Smut:

Dinner with friends, turns into Charles reminding you, you are his. HERE

<><><><>

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x reader x alexandra saint mleux #charles leclerc x reader x lando norris #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #formula one imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x y/n #charles lecrelc

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37sommz · 3 months ago

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❁ : monaco . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: fluff & angst. ✼. wc: 7.1k.

all the glitz and glamor of monaco drives everyone on the grid a bit mad. amid revelations and setup failures, the redbulls seem to be the most mad.

✼. warnings: language, mclaren in general. ✼. notes: none :)

000.⠀⠀MAY 26, 2022 › Monaco

The custom McLaren-branded jacket practically glimmered against Michaela's skin as she strode towards the press conference room. It was media day in iconic Monaco and the Monegasque sun warmed her skin as she pulled her sunglasses over her squinting brown eyes. The smell of the Mediterranean ocean spray filled the air, a familiar scent that reminded her of the value of a victory here in Monte Carlo.

Inside, the press room buzzed with excitement. Photographers snapped away as the drivers took their seats. The lights were as hot as the competition between the teams, and the anticipation was palpable. The press conference was a dance of allusions and vague hints, each driver revealing just enough to keep the audience intrigued without giving away their strategy for the weekend.

Michaela remained poised, her smile never wavering, as she took her seat between Lewis and Alex. The Williams driver's smile was bright as he watched his friend collapse onto the couch with an exaggerated huff. Lewis' attention was occupied by the phone in his hand though he gently hummed a soft greeting to the Australian to his left.

"You're late," Alex spoke as he leaned over to her. His smile didn't quite reach his tired eyes, the same way hers didn't quite reach her voice when she replied, "Only fashionably so." The room filled with light laughter, a welcome release of the tension that seemed to hang in the air like the ever-present pressure of performance.

"Daniel's not even here yet, why're you attacking me?" She continued, gesturing to the empty space to Lewis' right.

The British driver looked up from his phone, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Someone's eager to start the party." He joked as he finally pocketed his phone. Michaela was left without a chance to reply as the other Australian on the grid ran into the room, his press officer hot on his tail. His apologies fell on deaf ears as the photographers clicked away at a chance to capture his brilliant smile.

The conference began, and the questions rolled in, each more insightful than the last. They touched on everything from car upgrades to personal lives, but not once did they pry into the strained dynamics at McLaren or even Alpine for that matter. It was a welcome change, but the feeling of the unusual civility of the press left Michaela with a nagging suspicion that it was all a facade, a prelude to the storm that was to come once the racing weekend truly began.

As the conference drew to a close, Lewis leaned over to her, his smile genuine yet tinged with curiosity. "Dinner tonight?" He asked casually, and she felt the weight of his gaze, knowing that he had something he wanted to discuss.

It was far from an odd request. Lewis and Michaela had become quite close in the four seasons she had been racing in Formula 1. But she was aware of the look in his eyes that seemed to scream 'I know something'. Michaela had admittedly avoided Lewis since their out of character interaction in Bahrain which left her believing he knew more than he let on about her newfound ease around Jenson.

"Alright, but I'm not letting you pick the restaurant," she quipped, trying to keep the conversation light as they stood up. Lewis chuckled, "Fair enough. How about my place?" He offered, his eyes shimmering with mischief.

Michaela felt her heart jump a beat. This was it. The moment she had both dreaded and anticipated. But she played it cool, nodding in agreement as they stepped out of the conference room. The paddock was a whirlwind of activity, team members darting around, setting up for the weekend's events. The sound of engines roared in the background, a song of power and precision that was music to her ears.

As they approached the hospitality suites, she could help but feel as if the stares were more pronounced, the whispers louder. It was as if the paddock had turned into a stage, and she was the main act. She pushed the unsettling thoughts aside, reminding herself that paranoia would only distract her from her peace, focusing on the dinner ahead instead. Maybe this was her chance to finally tell Lewis the truth and get his advice on how to handle the looming media circus.

The evening rolled around, and she found herself at Lewis' place, a stunning villa nestled in the hills overlooking sparkling Monte Carlo. The smell of the sea mixed with the aroma of something delicious coming from the kitchen. They greeted each other with warm hugs, and she followed him through the effortlessly expensive interior to where they would be cooking.

Michaela's nerves simmered as they chopped vegetables and sautéed tofu for their vegan stir-fry. Lewis had always been the kind to read the room, and she could feel his curiosity about to spill over. "So..." she drew out the question, trying to sound casual as she tossed ingredients into the wok.

"So..." Lewis echoed, his eyes darting up to meet hers with a knowing smile. "This boyfriend of yours. Anything you want to tell me?" He stirred the food, his lips quirking up in a playful grin that didn't quite hide the seriousness of his question.

Michaela's hands paused over the chopping board, a carrot suspended in mid-air. She took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "Not necessarily..." She hummed, attempting to keep her cool as she continued to chop.

Lewis raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for her to continue. She felt his gaze on her, the tension in the kitchen thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, she set the carrot aside and turned to him. "Okay," she sighed, "You're obviously onto something. What's going on?"

He chuckled, "I've just noticed some... interesting changes in your behavior. And I've heard some whispers that might just be the wind, or might be something more."

Michaela's eyes widened. "What kind of whispers?"

"You know how this paddock is," he said, tossing the tofu into the sizzling wok. "Everyone knows everyone's business."

Her heart raced, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She didn't know whether to be upset or relieved that the secret was out. She decided to be brave and face it head-on. "Okay, I'll tell you. But promise me, it doesn't go beyond these walls."

Lewis nodded, his curiosity piqued. "I promise."

Michaela took a deep breath, her heart racing. "It's Jenson," she blurted out, the words slipping from her lips with surprising ease. She watched as Lewis' expression morphed from mild interest to shock and then into a knowing smile.

"I knew it," he said, turning down the heat on the wok and leaning against the counter. "You've been dodging my questions about your love life for over a year now."

Michaela felt a blush creeping up her neck as she stirred the vegetables, trying to keep her cool. "Because you're a nosy bitch, Lewis Hamilton."

Lewis' laugh filled the kitchen, a sound that had become increasingly warm and familiar to Michaela's ears. "Fair point," he conceded, "But I wouldn't have had to be nosy if you would've just told me, Michaela Sommers."

Michaela couldn't help but laugh along, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. "You're right. But we wanted to keep it private. To figure us out before the media did." She glanced at him, her smile tentative.

"I get it," Lewis said, nodding understandingly. "It's a tough situation, especially with little Myla in the mix." He paused for a moment, stirring the food with more thought than usual. "But you know how this sport is. Secrets have a way of getting out."

Michaela nodded, feeling the weight of his words. She had seen firsthand how quickly rumors could spread through the paddock. But she had also seen how people respected each other's privacy. "I know," she said, her voice surprisingly stable. "We've been careful about it. Trying to give Myla time to adjust to this new thing in her life, you know?"

Lewis nodded, his gaze thoughtful as he flipped the tofu. "And how is she taking it?"

"Myla?" Michaela's voice softened at the mention of the little girl. "She's fantastic. She's so bright and full of life, I adore her, Lew. And Jenson's amazing with her. They're so in tune with each other, it's so sweet to see him like that."

Lewis's smile grew as he listened to the affection in her voice. "I think the first time I met Myla was maybe 2017," he hummed, adding a batch of final touches to the dishes as he plated them. "She was only two but had more personality than half the drivers did even in their thirties."

Michaela chuckled, taking a plate from him. "And she still does," she said, sitting down at the sleek dining table that overlooked the twinkling city landscape. The silence between them grew, filled with the occasional clink of silverware on porcelain as they enjoyed their meal.

"So," Lewis started, after a pause that was long enough to be uncomfortable but not awkward, "What's the plan now?"

Michaela took a bite of the stir-fry as she considered his question. "We were hoping to wait until the season ends," she said, chewing thoughtfully. "But if it's going to come out now, then I guess we'll have to deal with it."

Lewis leaned back in his chair, his plate pushed aside slightly. "It's your call," he said, his gaze serious. "But I think it's better if you control the narrative. Keep that line between your personal and professional life clear."

Michaela nodded, swirling the last of the water in her glass. "I know," she murmured. "But it's not just about us. It's Myla too. We don't want this to take over her life. Her mum just got remarried this past August, and she's still getting used to having two new parental figures in her life."

Lewis leaned in, his eyes understanding. "I get it," he said firmly. "But if it's going to come out, it's better that it's on your terms. You guys have a good relationship, and it's clear that you're happy together. The media can't tear down something so strong, not if you make it clear that you're together for good."

Michaela nodded, taking a deep breath and letting his words sink in. "I already know they're gonna throw the distraction card to try to discredit the relationship. And I'm sure the age difference will be a hot topic too." She laughed bitterly.

"Michaela," Lewis said, his tone turning serious, "You can't let that get to you. You know the truth, Jense knows the truth, and Myla knows the truth. That's all that matters."

Michaela nodded, feeling the tension ease slightly. "You're right," she said, taking a sip of her water. "Honestly, I'm ready to be able to talk about it openly. It's just... I don't want to jinx it. We're happy, and I want to keep it that way."

Lewis reached across the table and placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "You will. Beata's a PR genius, as long as she can guide you through this, you'll be alright."

Michaela nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. Before they could move on to the topic of tomorrow's race, her phone buzzed with a call from Jenson. Lewis gave her an amused look, and she shrugged, answering the call and hitting the speaker button.

"Hey, babe," she answered, trying to keep her voice light. "You're on speaker with the nosiest man on the grid."

Jenson's laughter filled the room, and she could almost see the smile on his face. "Lewis Hamilton," he greeted, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. "How's the old man doing?"

Lewis chuckled. "I'm feeling very informed, JB. Thanks for asking."

Michaela rolled her eyes, the tension in the room dissipating. She could feel the warmth of Lewis' smile, grounding her as Jenson's voice filled the room. "So, what's on the agenda for tonight?" Jenson asked.

"He knows, Jense," Michaela responded, her voice carrying a hint of relief. "We talked about it."

Jenson's laughter continued, and she could sense his curiosity peaking. "Alright," he said, "What's the plan now?"

Michaela looked over at Lewis, who nodded his encouragement. She took a deep breath. "Well, we were thinking of waiting until the season ends, but it seems the universe has other plans." She paused, a smirk playing on her lips. "But I've got a pretty good PR team, and a boyfriend who's been on the front page of the tabloids for much worse."

Lewis chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, the stories I could tell," he teased, and Jenson's laughter grew richer.

"Keep them to yourself, please," Michaela shot back, though she couldn't help but grin. "I've had enough of you for one night."

Lewis' laughter bellowed through the room as he took a seat beside her. "Alright, alright," he conceded. "But you guys have my support, no matter what happens. I'm really happy for you two."

Michaela felt a warmth spread through her chest as she listened to her boyfriend and their friend banter back and forth. It was a strange dynamic, but it was theirs, and she wouldn't trade it for anything.

000.⠀⠀MAY 27, 2022 › Monaco

The next morning rose with the sun as Michaela prepared herself to officially kick off the race weekend with the first practice session. She walked towards the McLaren garage under the late morning sun, feeling the weight of the secret she'd been carrying around for so long slowly lifting off her shoulders.

Michaela climbed into her cockpit, the familiar sound of the engine roaring to life enveloping her. She took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. The Monaco Circuit was notorious for its tight streets and challenging corners, and she needed to be at the top of her game if she was going to keep up with the Ferraris and Red Bulls that had been dominating the season so far.

During the first practice session, she gently pushed the McLaren to get a sense of its limits, feeling the tires grip the asphalt as she sped around the iconic track. The session was rough, the car not responding to her inputs as seamlessly as she'd have liked, but she kept her cool, relaying the issues to her engineer calmly. Despite the car's troubles, she managed to keep her times respectable, but she knew she had her work cut out for her.

After the session, she climbed out of the cockpit, her fireproof suit sticking to her sweat-damp skin. Her engineer, Rob, met her with a furrowed brow, already discussing potential adjustments with the team. She nodded along, trying her best to keep calm instead of panicking on the engineer.

"Michaela," he said, holding up a hand, "Take a deep breath. We'll get it sorted."

She nodded, trying to shake off the frustration. "I know, I know," she said, taking a sip of water. "It's just... Monaco. It's so much pressure."

Rob nodded, understanding her stress. "I'll talk to the team. We'll work on it." He patted her shoulder before walking away to consult with the others.

Michaela took a moment to herself that was cut short as Zak approached her cautiously. "Where's your head at so far?" He asked pensively.

"I'm okay," she replied, her eyes on the bustling garage. "Just a bit off with the car today."

Zak's gaze sharpened. "Is it the usual?"

Michaela nodded, her eyes stuck on her car. "Just some setup issues. I trust them to figure it out."

Zak's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of doubt. "And the other stuff?" He prodded gently.

Michaela took a deep breath, her gaze finally meeting his. "What other stuff?" She asked, feigning ignorance.

Zak leaned closer, his voice low. "You know what I mean. The business end of it."

Michaela's eyes narrowed slightly. "It's fine," she said, her voice a mix of confidence and challenge. "Let's just focus on the race."

Zak nodded, the tension between them palpable. "Alright," he said, "But I want to be clear, we're behind you. Whatever happens outside of this garage, it doesn't change how you perform in that car."

Michaela took his words to heart, nodding firmly. "Understood," she said. "Let's just focus on getting the car right."

The second practice session went smoother though still not up to Michaela's preference, the team still not quite nailing the setup. As she pulled the car back into the garage after the conclusion of the session, the tension lightened, the crew working more efficiently.

"We're making progress," Rob assured her as he handed her an energy bar. "We're just a few tweaks away."

Michaela took a bite, nodding in acknowledgment. The sweet and salty bar didn't do much to ease her nerves, but she knew that Rob and the team were working tirelessly to give her the best car possible for qualifying tomorrow.

As the team dispersed to their various tasks, she found herself in a rare moment of solitude in the garage. The hum of the other teams' cars and the distant chatter of the paddock couldn't quite drown out the thoughts racing through her mind. In the lull of the sound of engineers working at the car, Luisa approached Michaela with an energy drink.

"You're not looking too pleased," she observed, her eyes assessing the driver.

Michaela took the energy drink with a nod of thanks. "It's just... everything," she sighed. "The car, the contract, the..." she trailed off, glancing at her phone. "And now, I have to go to the press pen."

Luisa leaned against a wall, her eyes on the floor. "Christian Horner," she murmured. "He's been asking around about you."

Michaela's grip tightened on the energy drink. "What do you mean?"

"Just that he's been talking to a few people about you," Luisa said, her expression unreadable. "I don't think it's anything to worry about, but I figured you should know. Has he approached you about your contract?"

Michaela's brow furrowed, her thoughts racing. "No, not directly," she replied, taking a sip of the energy drink. "But driving for Christian Horner with Jos Verstappen potentially breathing down my neck doesn't sound appealing at all."

Luisa tried and failed to hide her amusement. "I can't say I blame you," she said, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips. "Being Max's teammate sounds... intense."

Michaela chuckled despite her nerves. "Understatement of the year," she quipped. "But seriously, I don't know what he's playing at. He knows I'd never take second seat to Max."

Luisa's smile faded, her gaze turning serious. "Well, just keep your head down and drive," she advised. "Let the results do the talking."

Michaela nodded, taking the advice to heart as she made her way to the press pen with Beata, her thoughts racing. As Beata briefed Michaela for the press' questions, Max Verstappen slinked over to her side. His knowing smile bringing a disapproving look to Michaela's features.

"So," Max began, his voice low so that only they could hear, "I hear congratulations are in order."

Michaela stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. "For?"

"Oh, you know," Max replied noncommittally, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Michaela felt the blood rush to her cheeks, but she kept her cool. "You're going to have to be more specific, Max," she said, her voice steady.

Max leaned in closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't play dumb," he whispered. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Michaela felt a knot form in her stomach. "Max Emilian," she huffed, trying to keep her voice low. Max simply winked at her and walked away, ducking into the press pen, leaving her feeling more unsettled than before.

Beata looked at her, concerned. "He might be the oddest boy I've ever met." Michaela couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out. "Don't let him get to you," Beata said, patting her back. "I'm sure he won't go talking to the media about it."

Michaela took a deep breath and stepped into the press pen, her smile plastered firmly in place. She knew the drill—keep it professional, keep it clean. But as she took her spot in front of a journalist's microphone, she couldn't shake the feeling that the walls had eyes. Every question felt loaded, every glance a silent probe. She danced around the topic of race strategy, keeping her answers tight and her emotions in check.

After the press conference, she retreated to the McLaren hospitality suite, the weight of the day's events already pressing down on her. The quiet moments with her thoughts were interrupted when Beata returned with a worried look. "Christian Horner's been poking around," she said, her voice hushed. "Asking questions about your future plans."

Michaela's eyes rolled. "Luisa told me earlier. Make sure Guido knows not to indulge him, I'm not interested."

Beata nodded. "I will. Now, get out of here, try and rest before qualifying tomorrow. You need to be on point."

Michaela agreed, slipping out of the suite and into the cool evening air of Monaco. She took a moment to appreciate the scenic view of the marina before heading back to her hotel room to review the data from the practice sessions. Though Rob had reassured her that the crew was working to reconcile the issues Michaela had pointed out in the sessions earlier, she couldn't stop her mind from formulating possible solutions to her setup problem.

As she lay in bed that night, her thoughts swirled around the whispers of Christian Horner's interest and Max's knowing glances. Despite her attempt to push the concerns aside and focus on the race ahead, the fear of her relationship with Jenson being dragged into the spotlight weighed heavily on her. She knew that once the media caught wind of it, the narrative could spin out of control, affecting not just her career, but the lives of those she cared about the most.

Unable to bring herself to sleep, she reached for her phone to call Jenson. His calm voice was what she needed to soothe her nerves. The call connected through on the second ring. Michaela's eyebrows rose before furrowing as she heard the distant sound of the television in the background of the call.

The creases in her forehead smoothed over as she finally heard an excited, "Hi!", ring out from the other side of the call. Myla Button had answered her father's phone, her young voice echoing with an unusual amount of energy for a girl that was supposed to be in bed two hours ago.

"Hi, baby bear," she said with a smile she hadn't felt all day. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"I know," Myla whispered with a giggle, "But Daddy said I could watch a movie before bedtime. But he fell asleep so now I'm watching it by myself!"

Michaela's heart melted at the sound of her voice. She missed the little moments like this, the everyday routines she had become a part of when she was with Jenson and Myla. "Oh, really? What's the movie?"

"Tangled," Myla replied with a yawn. "It's so good, but I wish you were here to watch it with me."

Michaela felt a warmth spread through her chest. "I wish I could be there too, sweetie, but I'll be back in London soon," she promised. "I've got a big race in two days, so you and your dad will have to cheer me on from there, okay?"

Myla's voice grew serious. "I know, and Daddy says you're going to win it all."

Michaela chuckled, her heart swelling with affection. "Well, I'll do my best for you two," she said, her eyes misting over. "Now, let me talk to your dad before the two of you doze off."

After a moment, Jenson's voice filled the line, groggy with sleep. He muttered incoherently on the other side as Myla giggled at his drowsiness. Michaela could hear the 8-year-old shaking her father awake as she attempted to communicate to him that his girlfriend was on the line.

"Hey, love," he murmured once he was fully conscious. "Everything okay?"

Michaela took a deep breath. "Yeah, just had a weird day," she replied, the stress evident in her tone. "Red Bull seems to have completely lost their minds. Horner's sneaking around asking about my contract and Max is... Max but odder?"

Jenson chuckled sleepily. "Just ignore them," he advised. "You've got a job to do and we've got a secret to keep."

Michaela rolled her eyes. "Easy for you to say all the way from London," she said with a laugh. "But I'll try."

000.⠀⠀MAY 28, 2022 › Monaco

The next day, the tension was palpable as the third practice session approached. The McLaren team had worked tirelessly overnight to refine her car's setup. As she climbed into the cockpit, she felt the weight of their effort and her own ambition pushing down on her. The practice went smoother than the previous two, but Michaela couldn't bite back the nagging feeling that the car still wasn't reaching its full potential on the track.

During the final minutes of the session, she heard a strange crackle over the radio, followed by a brief silence before Rob's voice came through, strained. "Michaela, we're seeing some anomalies with your car's data. We need you to box this lap."

Her heart sank. "What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes scanning the dash for any signs of trouble.

"We're not sure yet," Rob said, his voice tight. "Just play it safe and come back in."

Michaela nodded, her gaze focused on the circuit ahead as she pulled into the pit lane, the car's performance causing more trouble for the crew. The team's tension was palpable as she climbed out, her engineer and mechanics swarming around the car, checking every inch. Despite their assurances that they hadn't found anything alarming, the whispers of doubt lingered.

"I think we can get more out of the car," Michaela spoke through tight lips as she moved to stand next to Rob. She held her helmet in one hand as the other removed her ear pieces, laying them to rest against her chest. The engineers and mechanics around them were in a heated discussion, gesturing at the car's telemetry.

Rob nodded, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "We're working on it, but we don't want to push our luck. Remember, this is Monaco. It's not the place to take risks."

Michaela knew he was right, but the thought of not being able to perform at her best gnawed at her. "I trust you guys," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "But if there's anything we can do to improve it, we should go for it."

The team huddled around, talking in hushed tones about potential adjustments. It was a delicate balance—make the car fast enough to win, but not so different that it could be a problem for Michaela to handle during qualifying in just a few hours. The whispers grew quieter as they approached the final decision. The mechanic nodded to Rob, who turned to her. "We're going to tweak the suspension a bit," he said. "It's all we can do without risking major differences. You're going to have to trust us."

Michaela took a deep breath, nodded, and disappeared into the garage to prepare herself mentally for the qualifying session. The tension was thick in the air as the final minutes before qualifying ticked down. When she emerged from her spot, her helmet was on and her game face was set. The car felt slightly different as she took it out for the first qualifying lap, but she pushed aside her reservations and focused on the track ahead, choosing to trust her team's decision. Each corner, each gear change, every brake point was a routine she knew by heart.

As the session progressed, she could feel the car beginning to work with her just the way she liked, the adjustments seeming to click into place. The crowd grew restless, eagerly waiting for the moment when their favorite drivers would battle for pole position. The air was electric with anticipation, and she fed off of it, pushing her car to the limits.

Michaela's final lap was a dance of precision and power, her tires squealing as she took the tight turns of the Monaco street circuit with ease. She knew it felt good—really good. Her heart raced as she pulled away from the racing line to begin her cooldown lap. Her head throbbed with the beginnings of a headache as she awaited the final times from the other drivers.

The silence on the radio was deafening as she waited for her engineer to confirm the time she had just set. The crowd's roar grew louder, and she could see the Ferrari and Red Bull crews looking up at the timing screens, their faces a mix of hope and trepidation. Finally, Rob's voice crackled through her headset. "Michaela, that's pole!"

Her heart soared as she pumped her fist in the air. As she pulled into parc ferme, she could see Charles and Carlos pull into the next two slots. Their red cars contrasting against her papaya orange one. She stepped out of the car, her heart racing and her cheeks flushed with excitement. The mechanics and engineers swarmed around her, pulling her into their arms and congratulating her on a job well done.

In the post-qualifying press conference, she sat between the two Ferrari drivers, a knowing smile playing on her lips. The tension between Ferrari and McLaren was palpable, but she felt a sense of victory as she had outsmarted the car and the track. The journalists threw questions at her, eager for her thoughts on the session and the race ahead.

"We had a frustrating start to our weekend," she began, her voice steady. "But the team did an incredible job making the changes. It felt like I was driving a different car from yesterday out there." She paused for a moment, her gaze lingering on the screen displaying the qualifying times. "And to be honest, I think we're all pretty surprised with the result."

The room was alive with murmurs, the energy of the impending race buzzing in the air. The journalists leaned in, eager to hear more about her strategy for the race. She knew that the pole position was crucial in Monaco, where overtaking was virtually impossible to do successfully for even the most technically sound drivers.

"So, what approach will McLaren take in terms of strategy for the race tomorrow?" A journalist from the back of the room called out, a hint of a smile in his voice.

Michaela's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Just to keep it on the street and out of the barriers," she quipped, causing the room to erupt in laughter. She knew the importance of playing the media game, keeping her cards close to her chest but giving enough to keep them intrigued.

After the press conference, she returned to the McLaren garage, where the team was already dissecting the data from qualifying. The atmosphere was a mix of relief and excitement, with engineers and mechanics sharing high-fives and slaps on the back. Rob met her with a knowing smile.

"You've done well for yourself Sommers," he said, handing over the table in his hand to Michaela's empty hands. "That issue we were having earlier was, in fact, suspension-related. You were right to push us to tweak it again."

Michaela felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Am I ever wrong?" She joked, as her eyes swept over the data, still enjoying the rush of pole position.

"Devastatingly, not very often," he huffed playfully as Michaela stuck out her tongue mockingly in response.

Night fell over the paddock as the lights of Monte Carlos settled an artificial warmth over the garage. As the McLaren crew broke down and packed up the garage for the night, a sense of pride and excitement filled the space in anticipation of the race tomorrow afternoon. Luisa allowed Michaela space to say her final goodnights to the team as she left to start the car.

As Michaela made the walk to the car, she caught sight of a familiar head of dark curls bounding toward her. It was Daniel Ricciardo, looking unusually serious. "Hey, what's up?" she called out, eyebrows furrowing in a mirror of the worry on his face.

"I just had a chat with Max," Daniel began, his voice hushed. "It was weird. He asked me a question about you and it kinda caught me off guard."

Michaela sighed with a sense of defeat. "I think he knows about Jenson and I. He was on one yesterday before press."

"Well, if he does, he's keeping it to himself," Daniel said, his eyes searching hers. "But why would he ask me? Unless he's trying to gauge the waters?"

Michaela shrugged, trying to push the concern aside. "Probably just his usual messiness," she said, but the doubt lingered. "I'm not worried about it. Jenson and I spoke last night about it, I think we're fine with more people knowing as long as it stays private, you know?"

Daniel nodded, a hint of relief in his expression. "Well, if you guys are cool with it, that's all that matters. I'll keep my mouth shut." He leaned in closer, whispering, "But beware of Horner, he's got his eyes on you, and he's not one to miss an opportunity for drama."

Michaela rolled her eyes. "I've been hearing about Horner all weekend. I'm starting to think I should go down there myself."

"No need," Daniel said with a smirk. "But maybe keep your cool. Who knows what he's after?"

Michaela nodded thoughtfully before climbing into the passenger seat of her car, ready to head back to the hotel. She knew Daniel was right—Horner's motives were always a puzzle wrapped in a hidden goal. As the car pulled away, she couldn't help but feel the weight of the impending race and the secrets she now knew were floating around the paddock.

Back in her hotel room, she tried to push aside the whispers of doubt and focus on her race prep. The walls of the room were plastered with notes and diagrams of the track, each turn and braking zone meticulously marked. She went through her mental checklist, visualizing every lap she had driven so far and planning for every possible scenario she could encounter tomorrow.

Her phone buzzed, and she saw it was a message from Jenson.

Congrats on pole, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you. Can't wait to watch the race tomorrow. Give 'em hell!

Thank you, my love. I'll do my best. Give Myla a kiss for me.

She couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips as she received an oddly angled selfie of Jenson with Myla, both of them sporting their matching goofy grins. With a sigh, she put her phone away and turned to the window, looking out over the twinkling lights of the Monaco harbor. The serenity of the ocean in stark contrast to the turmoil in her head.

000.⠀⠀MAY 28, 2022 › Monaco

The next morning dawned bright and early, the sun casting long shadows across Monte Carlo as Michaela made her way to the track. The air was thick with anticipation and the lingering smell of burning rubber and gasoline. The sound of engines warming up echoed through the streets, a show of power that sent chills down her spine. She took a deep breath, centering herself.

In the garage, the McLaren crew worked efficiently, their movements a well-choreographed dance. They checked over her car with meticulous care, ensuring every nut and bolt was in place. Her heart raced as she stepped into the cockpit, her mind racing through the strategy for the day.

The race started with the usual chaos of Monaco. Cars battling for position, tires screeching, and engines roaring as they hurtled through the narrow streets. The Ferraris, usually so dominant here, seemed to be struggling with their pace. Michaela smiled to herself underneath her helmet as she began to pull away from the pack after the first few laps.

As the race unfolded, it became clear that the McLaren was the car to beat. Despite several safety car interventions and the tight, twisting nature of the circuit, she managed to keep her cool, executing perfect restarts and flawless overtakes. The crowd roared as she held off the charging pack of Perez and the Ferraris.

On lap 40, disaster almost struck. A sudden downshift error caused her heart to race, and the car jerked violently. She wrestled it back under control, but the momentary distraction allowed Sergio Perez to close the gap. Her engineer's calm voice in her ear reminded her to keep her focus, to push through. She took a deep breath, her knuckles white on the steering wheel, and set off in pursuit of her earlier rhythm. The laps ticked down with agonizing slowness. The tension grew unbearable, the crowd on the edge of their seats. Each corner was a battleground, every inch of asphalt a potential trap.

The McLaren garage sat with held breaths as Michaela began the final lap. The pit wall was the picture of tension, eyes glued to the monitors, fingers crossed. As she approached the last corner, the hairpin at Rascasse, she could see the checkered flag waving in the distance. A fiery determination filled her as she floored the gas pedal, pushing the car to its absolute limit.

With the sound of the crowd's roar in her ears, she took the checkered flag, crossing the finish line in first place. The relief and elation washed over her as she slowed down for the cool-down lap, her heart thumping in her chest like a drum.

Back in parc ferme, the team erupted in cheers and applause, slaps on the back and high-fives flying as she climbed out of the car, her helmet still secured to her head. The weight of the week's secrets and tension lifted with the final lap. The podium ceremony was a blur of flashing cameras and spraying champagne, the sweet victory bubbles mixing with the salt of her sweat.

Michaela felt the warmth of the sun on her face and the welcome weight of the trophy in her hand. The podium interviews were a mix of questions about the race and subtle nods to the off-track drama, but she remained poised, her answers focused on the victory at hand.

"A brilliant drive, especially after that scare in the final laps," the interviewer said, holding the microphone close to her face. "Your thoughts?"

Michaela grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It was a tough one, that's for sure. The team did an amazing job with the car setup and strategy. And thanks to the crowd's energy, I found that extra bit of motivation to keep pushing." She took a moment to soak in the applause before continuing, "But let's not forget about Ferrari and Red Bull. They were breathing down my neck the whole race. It's a true testament to our teamwork that we managed to pull it off here in Monaco."

As the press conference wound down, Michaela decided to take the long way back to McLaren hospitality. With a gentle hum, she told Beata to go on without her, requesting a few moments of quiet before the celebrations continued.

She walked through the quiet convention center, finally reaching the elevator that would take her back up to the main level. She slipped inside the empty container just as someone called out for her to hold the doors open. With a polite smile, Michaela reached out a manicured hand to keep the doors from closing. Her smile dropped once she saw Christian Horner enter, his shrewd eyes looking her up and down.

"Congrats on the win," he said with a tone that didn't quite match the cheerful words. "Quite the performance you put on today."

Michaela nodded curtly. "Thank you, Christian."

The elevator ascended, the tension palpable. She could feel his gaze on her, analyzing every twitch of her body language. "You know," he began, "I've always appreciated your technicality. You're so precise throughout the entire race, like Prost. I hope you've been told a million times over that your driving is very Prost-esque, very clean."

Michaela raised an eyebrow, not missing the underlying meaning. "I've heard that before," she replied coolly, her voice even. "But today was about more than just me. I couldn't have done it without my team."

Christian leaned against the railing, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Ah, yes, your team. McLaren. They've got quite the gem in you, don't they?" His tone was sly, hinting at something unsaid.

Michaela resisted a roll of her eyes as she realized what he was implying. "What do you want, Christian?"

He shrugged, his gaze never leaving hers. "Just making conversation, enjoying a well-deserved victory. It was quite the statement really. A great way to silence those whispers about distractions."

Michaela felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She knew what he was referring to, but she wasn't going to let him bait her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Christian leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "That's alright. I admire your ability to separate the professional from the personal."

Michaela took a deep breath, her eyes focused on the floor numbers. When she didn't indulge Christian further, he decided to continue talking.

"But let's not beat around the bush," he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "I'll be the first to congratulate you for keeping it under wraps for so long. But be careful with how you play this game, Michaela. It's a small world, and secrets have a way of becoming nasty headlines."

Michaela's jaw tightened in annoyance. "Thank you for the advice, Christian."

"I know I'm the last person you want to hear this from. But I genuinely hope things work out for the two of you. I enjoy the challenge you bring to this grid, it's been the honor of a lifetime to watch you drive. And as always," he leaned in even closer, his breath a whisper of mint and ambition, "There's always a seat open for you with Red Bull. We'd love to have you."

The elevator dinged, interrupting his sales pitch. The doors slid open and the murmurs of the lobby flooded in. He stepped out, leaving her with the weight of his words hanging in the air.

#⠀،،⠀&. prose.#lewis hamilton x oc #alex albon x oc #max verstappen x oc #jenson button x oc #lewis hamilton #alex albon #max verstappen #driver!oc #f1 fanfic #f1 female driver #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 fem!driver!oc #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one

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barbielore · 9 months ago

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As an Australian a lot of US culture and pop culture passes me by, so I had no idea what See's Candies was when I first saw the Barbie tie-in.

Naturally, though, I thought that this must be something significant that passed me by. Just a run of the mill candy story would not have warranted such a doll.

And definitely would not have warranted more than one.

I love this doll so much. I love her little face veil. I just can't believe that she's a tie-in product for a brand I've never heard of even though she extremely rules.

Released in 1999 and 2001 respectively, these Barbies pay homage to the "Quality Without Compromise" candy company. And stranger still... if we take it as canon that the box text represents the Barbie lore, this is Barbie's first job.

According to the back of the box, Barbie's first job, back before she was a fashion model, a nurse, an astronaut, a game designer, a movie star or a farmer... she was a See's Candy Salesperson.

A fun fact that I learned while researching this, by the way, is that See's Candy is also where Lucille Ball learned how to dip chocolates in preparation for the I Love Lucy episode where Lucy gets a job as a candy store employee to stick it to Ricky.

Also available in Barbie form.

I don't know if this is remotely worth seeking out but a part of me is deeply curious now.

#barbie #see's candies #see's candies barbie #lucille ball #i love lucy #i love lucy barbie

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girlsdressingrooms · 1 year ago

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Iris Barrel Apfel, Decorator and Fashion Stylist

(August 29, 1921 – March 1, 2024)

Ms. Apfel was one of the most vivacious personalities in the worlds of fashion, textiles, and interior design, she has cultivated a personal style that is both witty and exuberantly idiosyncratic.

Her originality was typically revealed in her mixing of high and low fashions—Dior haute couture with flea market finds, nineteenth-century ecclesiastical vestments with Dolce & Gabbana lizard trousers.

With remarkable panache and discernment, she combines colors, textures, and patterns without regard to period, provenance, and, ultimately, aesthetic conventions. Paradoxically, her richly layered combinations—even at their most extreme and baroque—project a boldly graphic modernity.

Iris Barrel was born on Aug. 29, 1921, in Astoria, Queens, the only child of Samuel Barrel, who owned a glass and mirror business, and his Russian-born wife, Sadye, who owned a fashion boutique.

She studied art history at New York University, then qualified to teach and did so briefly in Wisconsin before fleeing back to New York to work on Women's Wear Daily, and for interior designer Elinor Johnson, decorating apartments for resale and honing her talent for sourcing rare items before opening her own design firm. She was also an assistant to illustrator Robert Goodman.

As a distinguished collector and authority on antique fabrics, Iris Apfel has consulted on numerous restoration projects that include work at the White House that spanned nine presidencies from Harry Truman to Bill Clinton.

Along with her husband, Carl, she founded Old World Weavers, an international textile manufacturing company and ran it until they retired in 1992. The Apfels specialized in the reproduction of fabrics from the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries, and traveled to Europe twice a year in search of textiles they could not source in the United States.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute assembled 82 ensembles and 300 accessories from her personal collection in 2005 in a show about her called “Rara Avis”.

Almost overnight, Ms. Apfel became an international celebrity of pop fashion.

Ms. Apfel was seen in a television commercial for the French car DS 3, became the face of the Australian fashion brand Blue Illusion, and began a collaboration with the start-up WiseWear. A year later, Mattel created a one-of-a-kind Barbie doll in her image. Last year, she appeared in a beauty campaign for makeup with Ciaté London.

Six years after the Met show she started her fashion line "Rara Avis" with the Home Shopping Network.

She was cover girl of Dazed and Confused, among many other publications, window display artist at Bergdorf Goodman, designer and design consultant, then signed to IMG in 2019 as a model at age 97.

Ms. Iris Apfel became a visiting professor at the University of Texas at Austin in its Division of Textiles and Apparel, teaching about imagination, craft and tangible pleasures in a world of images.

In 2018, she published “Iris Apfel: Accidental Icon,” an autobiographical collection of musings, anecdotes and observations on life and style.

Ms. Apfel’s apartments in New York and Palm Beach were full of furnishings and tchotchkes that might have come from a Luis Buñuel film: porcelain cats, plush toys, statuary, ornate vases, gilt mirrors, fake fruit, stuffed parrots, paintings by Velázquez and Jean-Baptiste Greuze, a mannequin on an ostrich.

The Museum of Lifestyle & Fashion History in Boynton Beach, Florida, is designing a building that will house a dedicated gallery of Ms. Apfel's clothes, accessories, and furnishings.

Ms. Apfel’s work had a universal quality, It’s was a trend.

Rest in Power !

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ivyyisbored22 · 7 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭— 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐅

Synopsis: A marriage that is only valid for a year as per his contract. Once it's over, he is happy to let her go. Or is he not...? Find out what happens ;)

Note: Check Description and other chapters first to understand the story ^^♡

Chapter 1

Aria

The warm scent of the vanilla candle spread across the room filling my senses as I came to reality from my thoughts that this really is happening.

I was in the bride's room, sitting in front of the mirror as my sister did my make-up and my mom prepared my gown. Today was supposed to be the best day of my life. Walking down the aisle and getting married to the most handsome man I've laid my eyes on.

He was perfect in every way a family wanted in a son in law. Smart, heir to Aurelius; a high luxury fashion and lifestyle brand company, reserved and knows when to speak.

My last relationship ended in the worst heartbreak possible, I lost every ounce of interest in dating and marrying the man I will fall in love with.

But I agreed to this marriage under my soon to be husband's insane agreement no woman will ever accept. Regret began to claw my mind as the last night's memory replayed in my thoughts.

The night before the wedding...

The tension in the atmosphere was thick and unfamiliar. The man sitting in front of me, his cold demeanour sent shivers down my spine. Everything about him felt perfect outside, but he has a heart made of ice, not even the sun's hot temperature could melt it down. His leg was shaking beneath the table, he was pinching the bridge of his nose before he sighed heavily.

"I'll get straight to the point" he said, looking at me straight in the eyes, his gaze was burning with anger or irritation. "I am not interested in getting married this young but I am doing it for the sake of my father and I believe so are you?" He asked me, his voice thick like gravel with a heavy Australian accent.

"Yes. I am not interested in marriage or getting a partner at this moment either but I agreed to this for the sake of my parents- They want me to get married" I said looking at him and my eyes fell on the glass of whiskey on the table.

"Good, then I have one thing to tell you before I marry you tomorrow" He said, his voice serious, a stern edge cutting through the tension in the room. I looked up at him as he slid a document that looked like a contract-

"I want you to sign here that you are agreeing to get married to me only for a year. When the year ends, we will separate and go our own ways. Seeing that neither of us want this, I feel like this works for us"

My eyes widened in horror. A year? My mind raced with thoughts of what this meant for both of us, and for our families. I picked up the document with trembling hands, scanning the text quickly. The terms were clear, leaving no room for misinterpretation. It was a marriage of convenience, nothing more, with a clear expiration date.

"Is this really necessary?" I asked, my voice shaking as I tried to swallow the thick lump formed in my throat, threatening to choke me. "What about our parents? They don't know about this."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and gulping down the last sip of his whiskey, his frustration palpable. "They don't need to know. This arrangement is for us, not them. They'll be happy thinking we're married, and in a year, we'll part ways amicably. It's the best solution."

The room suddenly felt smaller, as if it was trying to crush me within the walls. "What if they find out? Or have other expectations?"

"We'll deal with that when the time comes," he said dismissively, his gaze unwavering. "Right now, we just need to get through this year. After that, we're free."

Free. The word echoed in my mind. Was I really ready to be tied down, even temporarily? A temporary wife to a man that doesn't value the definition of marriage? But backing out now would mean disappointing my parents, facing their inevitable heartbreak, confusion and disgrace in front of the guests.

"Alright. I'll sign this" I finally said, whispering so low, my voice was barely audible to my own ears.

He slid a pen across the table, I picked it up, my hand hovering over the paper. I was signing away a part of my future, a part of my life, even though it was only for a year, my heart clenched in my chest tightly, it hurt. As if someone was squeezing it without mercy despite my pleading.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the pen to the paper and signed my name, the ink sealing my fate.

"Good," he said, his tone remaining rough. "We'll make this work. For our families."

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and dread. Tomorrow, I will be a bride. Not out of love, but out of duty. A temporary wife. And in a year, I would be free again. At least, that was the plan. As I stood up to leave, he called out my name, I turned back to look at him, trying to hold back the frustration.

"One more thing," His eyes locked with mine. "No one can know about this. Understood?"

I nodded, the thought of living a lie for an entire year made my stomach churn, the drink I had an hour ago threatened to make it way back up.

"Good. See you tomorrow at the altar"

I walked out of the room, my mind racing in a tornado of thoughts. Tomorrow, everything would change.

And in a year, it would all be over.

My mind came back to reality again when my mom gently touched my shoulder, indicating it's time to get dressed in the gown. I looked at her face, her eyes held happiness and excitement, unaware of the turmoil inside me.

I forced a soft smile. The weight of the contract I signed last night still ate me alive. As I slipped into the elaborate, gorgeous white gown embodied in crystals, its incarnate lace and beadings felt like chains rather than a celebration of love or any feelings at all.

The bridesmaids fluttered around me, adding the final touches and adjusting the veil, their voices were a distant hum, I was drowning in my racing thoughts.

One year of pretending. Pretending that I am happy with this man. How can I get through it? Could I keep up with the charade without slipping?

The questions gnawed at me but there was no turning back now. I had the time to turn back last night but now I have signed my life away. Well, at least only for a year according to the contract.

The next moment, I stood at the entrance of the chapel, the heavy wooden doors towering above me. My heart pounded in my chest, I could swear it would break through my ribcage. The chatters and murmurs of the guests seemed to merge into one enormous roar, growing louder by each passing second.

My father appeared next to me, he took my arm, his grip was firm but comforting. "You look beautiful darling", he whispered in a soft tone, filled with a mixture of pride and concern.

The voice in the back of my mind screamed at me to tell my father that this is all a lie, about the contract, but I couldn't bring myself to tell those words to him. Instead I forced a smile and nodded at him, unable to trust my voice.

The large doors swung open, the music from the grand piano started playing as my father and I stepped into the chapel. The sudden shift from the chaotic noise to the serene, harmonious melody inside was almost surreal.

As we walked down the aisle, I could feel the weight of the gazes on me, each step making my heart race faster. I looked up in front of me, my husband was standing with his hands clasping in front of him, wearing a crisp navy blue suit, his hair was pushed back and dyed brown, 7 men standing beside him, all of them wearing the same matching suits their expressions a mix of joy and solemnity.

My father's grip tightened as we reached the end of the aisle, he whispered words of encouragement, barely audible over the gentle strains of the piano. I glanced at him, his eyes shining with unshed tears and pride.

My heart swelled with emotion, knowing how much this day meant to him as well. As we reached the altar, my father lifted my veil, fully revealing my face to my husband, unaware that I'll be living with this man in front of me only for a year.

He didn't even smile at me, his icy cold demeanour froze me stiff as I stood there, we turned towards the officiant as he cleared his throat, bringing our attention to him.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..." but I couldn't focus on his words. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

The year-long agreement hung heavy over me, a stark contrast to the joyous occasion it was supposed to be. I stole a glance at my husband, his expression unreadable, a mask of indifference that sent a chill down my spine.

"Do you Bang Christopher Chan, take Aria Evelyn Scott to be your lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

There was a brief pause. The chapel seemed to hold its breath, the silence almost deafening. My husband's eyes met mine, locking his angry brown eyes with mine before he replied,

"I do."

The officiant turned to me, "Do you Aria Evelyn Scott, take Bang Christopher Chan to be your lawfully wedded husband...?"

"I do," I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

The officiant smiled gently. "May we now have the rings?"

One of the groomsmen stepped forward, his beautiful blue hair and freckles outshining his suit, handing the rings to the officiant. He blessed them before giving one to my husband.

He took the ring and held my hand above his and slid the ring onto my finger. His touch was cool, but the metal of the ring felt colder. I took the other ring from the officiant, my hands trembling slightly, slipping the band onto his finger. The officiant's smile broadened.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

My husband took one step closer to me and leaned in, he held my face and brushed his lips against mine. His lips were soft and he tasted like whiskey, I swallowed hard when he pulled back. The chapel erupted in applause, but I felt detached, like I was watching someone else's life unfold.

My bridesmaid handed my bouquet of white tulips back to me, my husband held his arm to my side and I slipped my hand in, looking at the crowd, my parents and in laws watching us with emotion and pride filled in their eyes.

As we walked down the aisle, my hand holding his arm, his eyes never met mine after we exchanged our vows. I wondered how I would endure the next year. I drew strength from my father's earlier words and the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could change.

But for now, I had to face the uncertain path ahead, one step at a time.

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Hello my lovelies! I'm glad to see that you have made it to the end of Chapter 1 of "Thawing his Heart" 🖤 First of all, I wanna thank you for checking out this story and making it to the end🫶🏻 I hope you liked it and will continue reading the upcoming chapters.

Leave your comments and let me know what you think. I always appreciate feedback and valid criticism. This story has a lot of inspiration from movies I've watched and books; especially from a Bollywood movie from the 2000s, my favourite books and others. I wanted to put a mix of everything that heavily inspired me to create something of my own.

I'm hoping to make this story to the end at least, unlike my last one which wasn't fully successful ^^;;

This story is entirely FICTIONAL. Stray Kids are merely fictional characters in this story, none of this represent their real personalities and behaviours. All of the inspiration credits go to the respectful authors and artists.❗

Here's an aesthetic for this story:

Thank you for reading!

xx, Ivyy

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