#It's always raining in Montreal

[muirneach]

glances at the mtl schedule. okay awesome! two r32 matches eight r16 matches and two quarterfinals to get through. on one day. people will actually die

[blueberry-obsessed]

The rain needs to do miracles for my drivers today

[giuseppe-yuki]

if you saw me reply to this ask with some unintelligible notes no you didn't (i accidentally pressed post instead of save, panicked, and deleted the ask 😀) luckily i saved a picture of it so crisis averted 🫡

anyways, this is such an adorable concept!

my take down below :)

picture credits from pinterest :)

franco colapinto x orange cat shapeshifter!reader

problem: rain- also known as a cat's biggest fear. as an orange cat!shapeshifter, it only made sense that the fear transferred to your human self too. big fat droplets of water coming from the sky that soaked your entire body, making you cold and miserable? appalling. the loud thundering of the droplets on the ground and the grumbling of thunder in your sensitive ears? overwhelming.

solution: just don't go outside! unfortunately, that just created another problem: as a formula 1 driver, it was kind of necessary that your boyfriend just had to go outside into the wet montreal weather. something about james vowles...media day...meeting...blah blah blah. it was all a bunch of mumbo jumbo in your head anyways.

so there you sat, unbudging, on the plush williams' blue couch of franco's driver room, bundled under at least three blankets while your boyfriend looked upon you, arms crossed.

"come on!" franco groans, trying to pull you off the couch with his extraordinarily strong arms. "let's go! i'm going to be late, and my pr manager is gonna be mad!"

you roll your eyes. did this boy not listen to your 20 minute rant prior about how you were gonna pass away if one single raindrop touched your skin?

"franco," you say pointedly, " like i said before, go without me! i am not about to be leaving this room to be miserable and wet in this canada weather."

"i'll get you an umbrella," franco offers helpfully.

you purse your lips. "wellll.... i already looked and couldn't find one in your driver's room."

that was kind of ridiculous honestly, because how williams managed to not store a single umbrella in the million dollar buildings in rainy montreal, no less, you would never understand. your boyfriend lets out an audible 'hmph' before throwing himself next to you on the couch and attempting to stick his cold feet into the warm bundle of blankets surrounding you. he looked unlikely to get up anytime soon. "what are you doing mister?" you question, trying pushing franco off the couch. "you gotta go!" scooting all the way to the other end of the couch so you can't reach him, he crosses his arms. "well, if you're not going, i'm not either." you let out a incredulous laugh. "baby, this is your literal job- if you don't do it you're gonna get fired!" to this, he just sniffs dismissively and turns his head away from you in a dismissive manner as if he was a little kid.

"no."

a minute of silence passes, with franco pouting on the one side of the couch, trying to ignore your eyes while you stare at your boyfriend with an eyebrow raised. you predict that he will give in the next 30 seconds, like he always does under your glare. the rain still thunders outside, a wet pitter-patter that promises only grief.

you can't ever predict what comes out of his mouth next, though.

"get in my shirt," your boyfriend demands.

your mouth drops open in disbelief.

"excuse me?" you ask slowly, enunciating each syllable. "you wanna repeat that for me?"

now, your boyfriend sometimes said some out-of-pocket stuff by this was a whole new weird.

franco's cheeks turn a dusty pink almost immediately, and he waves his arms in an effort to disperse the situation.

"no! i meant- not my shirt, my jacket- like i mean for you to get in-"

"franco, that's kind of freaky of you to say right now," you say quietly.

he slaps a hand over his rapidly reddening face and mutters, "imeantthatyoushouldturninyourcatformandgetinmyjacketsowecangotogether."

"ohhhh," you respond, realization dawning you. "you want me to climb into your jacket?"

franco nods quickly, relief evident on his features.

"yes, yes, yes, so you don't get wet and i can keep you nice and toasty," he supplies, looking at you for approval.

you squint your eyes at him, thinking, before slowly nodding.

"fine."

he practically beams at you before pushing himself off the couch. reaching up, he starts slowly unzips his jacket just a smidgen suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

god, this man was so unserious.

"franco," you snap, "hurry up and unzip your jacket so i can hop in! you're literally about to be half an hour late to wherever you're supposed to be going!"

your boyfriend huffs in annoyance before unzipping the rest of his jacket and thrusting his arms out for you to jump into.

you shift into your cat form and don't waste a second before leaping into his arms.

you can practically feel the raindrops on franco's raincoat as your boyfriend strolls through the paddock on the way to williams garage. admittedly, it feels quite calming curled up inside his coat, franco's body warmth and faint cologne just about lulling you to sleep. even the usual loud roar of the rain on the roofs of the buildings are muffled by the obstruction around you. your eyes are about to close when suddenly, somebody slaps franco on the back, jolting both him and you.

"franco!" a voice says with a tinge of amusement. "did you eat too much pizza at the hospitality or what?"

using your claws, you climb your way up franco's shirt from underneath his coat, and pop your head out of his collar. it leads to a few droplets of water sliding into your fluffy fur, but you dismiss it, more curious who was doing out in the rain as well.

none other than alex albon stands there, looking real dry under a large umbrella that is now held over franco's head as well. it is proudly labelled "williams racing" in blue lettering. his "pet" cockatiel sits proudly on his shoulder, bouncing up and down in hello when she sees you in franco's collar.

alex laughs when he spots you too.

"ah, i see, just your girlfriend in your coat!" he says, giving you wave.

you give him a loud meow and bare your canines in a smile.

alex smiles back at you kindly.

"so anyways, where ya'll going on this fine day in montreal, canada?" he asks, tilting his head, as if franco wasn't looking like a soggy biscuit with his drenched clothes and the weather didn't look like it was two seconds away from becoming a hurricane.

franco gestures vaguely towards the garages.

"the garages- didn't james tell us to go there like half an hour ago?"

alex laughs. "you're joking right? he didn't send anything out, cause how are you supposed to look at car performance in this weather?"

the both of you recognize the truth in alex's words at the same time. and when the flash of realization and embarassment crosses franco's face, you make sure take a deep breath, because if you don't, you are sure you would have mauled your boyfriend for bringing you all the way out in a storm for nothing.

note: largely unedited ;-;

[holllandtrash]

chasing fate | lance stroll

pairing: lance stroll x hamilton!reader

after months of lingering looks and shy smiles, all the two of you need is a little push in the right direction, but when that direction ends up being in circles, you start to wonder if there's even an end in sight

word count: 5k tags/warnings: soft and sweet, literally so pure and innocent

To put it simply, Lance Stroll was an introvert. 

He loved his career, he loved the people on his team, but when the weekend ended he wanted nothing more than to go back to Montreal and hide away in the comfort of his house until he had to fly to the next country.

The worst was when there was no break in between races. When he had to fly from one race location to another, Lance struggled to hold in his complaints. 

Oftentimes during the race weekend, he sought out places where he could find temporary comfort. Away from the crowds, away from the team sporting the matching Aston Martin colours. He just needed to breathe and he couldn’t do that with someone at his side. He couldn’t do that if he was called away for media or autographs. He couldn’t do that if he had to sit through yet another pointless meeting.

He lucked out in Monza, finding a spot early Thursday morning. Somewhere behind the motorhomes, a route that emergency vehicles would take so it wasn’t accessible to the public. 

There was a bench, even somewhere for him to put his feet up. Absolutely perfect, he thought. 

He sat there in between media sessions on Thursday, taking deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. 

He didn’t have anxiety, he just got overwhelmed easily. 

All he wanted to do was race, he wished he could do that without the fifty thousand other agreements he never thought would become more and more unbearable as the races continued, as the years went on. Wasn’t it supposed to get easier the longer he did this? Why was he always counting down the minutes until he could just go home, or at least go back to the hotel?

Lance waited a minute or two more before standing up from the bench. He avoided the puddle that was near his feet and looked up at the sky. The clouds were a light grey, but no rain was supposed to be expected for the rest of the weekend, hopefully.

He was still looking up as he walked around the motorhome, thinking about how bad a storm would have to be for a race to be cancelled.

And you were looking down at your phone as you walked down that same dirt path, not caring about how the mud was going to stain the sides of your shoes because if you were being honest, you hated that you had to look your best during these weekends.

You hated that Lewis had turned the paddock into his own personal fashion show because the days you showed up with him, people expected you to also make some sort of statement or rep some expensive brand with your outfit. After all, you were the younger sister of 7 time world champion Lewis Hamilton, and your association came with upholding his image.

But god you were tired of it sometimes. You loved watching the races, but you could do without being asked what you thought about your brother's career, how you felt his battle was going, if he was going to retire soon. 

You didn’t care, truly. 

Lewis knew what he was doing, all you wanted to do was watch and support and not be sucked into whatever drama was circling his life that week.

That's how you found yourself looking for a seclusive spot to just get away from it all. 

When you bumped into Lance, you were both taken off guard. You hand went to his chest, his hand went to your arm to keep you both steady.

“Sorry, I wasn’t-” You started to say, the same time Lance said “I didn’t see-”

You closed your mouth, dropping your hand to your side as he took a step back. The synchronised apologies didn’t need to be finished, it was clear you both weren’t looking where you were going. 

“Is this your hideout?” You asked, a faint smile on your face when you saw the bench and the black boxes he had turned upside down to rest his feet on. 

Lance looked behind him, inhaling a quiet breath before he smiled too, “Yeah, but I don’t mind sharing it if you’re in need of one.”

“How generous,” you teased. 

Lance moved to step around you and had you kept walking towards the bench, you would have missed the way his smile dropped when he spotted the crowd of people on the other side of the motorhome. 

But you caught it. 

You didn’t say anything, but you felt bad for him, knowing that he had it so much worse being an actual driver. There was the stress of delivering and getting points every weekend on top of what he had to face when he stepped out of the car.

At least you got to go home after this and not think about Formula 1 until you decided to attend another race. This was Lance’s life.

And you liked Lance. You didn’t speak as often as you would have liked, but he was always very polite to you when you were in the paddock. Whereas most of the drivers kept to themselves and their teams if they were heading somewhere, Lance would send you a smile if he recognised you.

You knew he was shy, which is why you were always a little surprised if he did go out of his way to talk to you. Again, it wasn’t often, just a simple ‘How are you?’ or ‘It���s nice to see you’. 

You liked his faint lisp as he spoke, you liked his Canadian accent, it made chatting with him more amusing for you. You were sick of the French and the British, you liked that when Lance spoke, there was always a sense of optimism to his words, even if he didn’t intend for it.

But most of all, you liked that despite being the son of Lawrence Stroll, despite having a paid seat, he fought hard. He worked his ass off every weekend to earn points for the team, he put effort in that not many other paid drivers would. He loved this sport, he loved racing, and you could see that even when you sat at home and watched the race from the comfort of your living room.

His effort in F1 seemed to go unnoticed a lot of the time. He had Seb as a teammate the last few years and now he was with Fernando. Two very prominent names and yes, two incredible drivers that helped him out immensely, but the attention always went to them.

So yeah, you felt bad for him.

You couldn’t relate to the driving aspect, but you understood what it was like being in someone's shadow. Something that you never once blamed Lewis for, just like you knew Lance would never blame Seb or Fernando. 

It was just the cards you had been dealt, it was the fate you found yourself accepting.

You didn’t think twice before cupping your hand around your lips, calling out to Lance, “Hey!”

He turned right before reaching the paddock, eyebrows raised, but when your mouth curved into a warm smile, he reciprocated it before you even said anything else. 

“Good luck this weekend,” you said and he chuckled, yelling a ‘thank you’ in response.

Four little words, but it showed him that someone was on his side. 

And that someone was you, which Lance needed a second to process as he walked through the paddock.

He admired you, really. 

He had been following you on social media for a while, he saw the work you put into Lewis’ organisations, how much of a role model you aspired to be. He liked the calming aura you carried into the paddock, it was something that drew Lance to you from day one.

Maybe that’s why he wasn’t afraid to talk to you, maybe that’s why you were one of the few people he didn’t shy away from. He hated crowds, he hated the obligations that came with being a driver, he hated struggling to find the right words to say when a camera was shoved in his face.

But you were different. 

He could spot you halfway down the paddock and it made his job a little easier.

And if he just so happened to perform better when you were in attendance, well, no one really had any issues with that. No one even knew you were the reason behind it, behind his insane lap times during practices, behind his incredible qualifying finish that put him third behind Max and Checo.

Almost everyone was clueless, and that included Lance.

The one person who wasn’t clueless, was Lewis.

He bumped into Lance in the paddock, it was nearing sunset on that Saturday before the race and you had already gone back to the hotel at this point, telling Lewis you’ll see him later and congratulating on his P5 grid position.

Now, unlike you, Lewis was intimidating. Sure, he was probably the nicest driver in the paddock and wore his heart on his sleeve, but the man held seven world championship titles and knew a thing or two about racing. 

So naturally, when Lewis approached him, Lance stood up straighter, slid his phone into his pocket and was ready to listen to whatever the British driver had to say.

“P3, mate, good job,” Lewis congratulated him, arm going around his shoulders to pat his back as they walked through the paddock.

“Yeah, thanks,” Lance smiled. “It was close there, in that last session. I just lucked out.”

“Nah it’s not luck,” Lewis laughed. “You’re a good driver. It’s only right you’re fighting for the big points.”

Lewis was a fierce competitor, but he showed every driver on the grid the respect they deserved. Lance was appreciative of his words, but it also left him stunned in response. 

You were easier to talk to than your brother, that’s for sure.

“You’re doing well this year,” he then pointed out. 

Ideally, Lance would have liked to be doing better. It was September and he found himself seventh in the standings. Better than last year, for sure, but Lance expected more of himself, more from the car. 

But what was he supposed to say to Lewis, ‘I disagree’? Lance just thanked him again.

“Do you know what I’ve noticed?" Lewis, still with one arm around Lance, laughed quietly to himself. It wasn’t threatening by any means, but Lance felt like he was missing something, he wasn’t in on whatever Lewis found so funny.

“What’ve you noticed?” He asked.

Lewis nodded and he stopped walking. Lance did too and watched as Lewis tried to hide the faint smirk on his lips, tried, but failing 

“You do better when my sister’s around.” 

Again, Lance was unsure how to respond. This wasn’t something he could agree with or find an answer for, it honestly wasn’t even something he’d thought about. 

But Lewis’ face said it all.

He had noticed the way the Canadian driver worked his way up the grid faster if you were watching the race. He kept track of Lance’s starting positions when you were in attendance compared to when you weren’t. He saw the way Lance, all around, was in a better mood and had a better weekend, if you were there.

“I don’t-” Lance shook his head, thinking maybe he had done something wrong. He didn’t want to cross any lines, he respected Lewis, respected you, your whole family. Why was he suddenly nervous that Lewis had caught onto something that had gone right over his own head?

Lewis continued on, not giving Lance a chance to defend himself or argue that he was wrong, “So you like her?”

Again, Lance struggled to get a proper sentence out, “No, I mean- I do, but not like-” he ran a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t know what the right thing to say here is, man.”

Lewis found humour at how on edge Lance became all of a sudden. His intention was not to get in his head or make him stutter, but it was entertaining. 

“She’s-” Lance swallowed, “Nice. She’s nice.”

“Nice?” Lewis repeated, still stifling his laughter. “Yeah, tell her that mate, I’m sure that’ll win her over.”

“What, I’m not-” Lance shook his head again, that was all he could seem to do. He felt the need to defend himself, for something he had no control over, “I’m not trying to win her over.”

“Okay,” the older driver nodded, figuring now was probably the time to quit playing mind games. He patted Lance’s arm, “Just saying, if you did want to win her over, you probably wouldn’t have to try that hard. I think she likes you too.”

Lewis let those words sit with Lance as he turned and walked towards the gates of the paddock, leaving the Aston Martin driver standing in the middle of the walkway, repeating the sentence in his head over and over again. 

‘I think she likes you too.’ 

When Lewis returned to the hotel, you were in the lobby scrolling through your phone. Lewis plopped down next to you, arm resting over the back of the couch and when you eventually looked up, you noticed the devious little expression on his face.

“What?” You asked, eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Lewis sighed, “I guess if you wanted, you could call me-” he raised his hands in front of him, mimicking the motion of shooting an arrow. “-cupid.” And then he looked at you, with that same mischievous grin.

Now you were really confused. 

“Who the fuck are you playing cupid for?”

Lewis hesitated, “Lance.”

That was certainly not the name you expected to hear. 

“Lance?” You repeated. “Lance and who?”

“Lance and that girl who always lingers in the paddock when he’s nearby and gives him a more genuine smile than she gives her own brother.”

It took a second for it to hit you and then you hit him, smacking your older brother in the chest as he just took the abuse and laughed. 

“Am I wrong?” Lewis asked, still unable to keep from grinning from ear to ear. Your reaction to your unrecognised feelings was so much better than Lance's. “Come on, Y/N, I’ve seen it for months now.”

“You haven’t seen anything,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest in a very childlike form. Avoiding eye contact with Lewis made this conversation easier, but that didn’t mean he was about to let up. 

“So you’re telling me you don’t like him?” He questioned. “That you don’t have feelings for that pale Canadian?”

The thing was, you probably did. You just never let yourself think about it. You didn’t spend enough time around him or go to enough races to let yourself sit in those feelings or act on it. You exchanged a smile and kind words when you were around each other, but it never went any further than that and you never let yourself hope that it would.

There was no point, you’d both be gone after the race weekends, back to your lives, your respected homes. 

“I think you’re delusional,” you turned this around on Lewis instead of facing what was right in front of you. 

Quite literally, right in front of you.

You looked across the lobby right as Lance was walking inside, looking down at his phone as he lugged a backpack over his shoulder. You felt Lewis nudged your side and in response you hit his hand out of the way, inching closer to the corner of the couch.

And then Lance looked up, his eyes finding yours almost instantly. 

It was hard to put into words how you felt because up until now, you refused to admit you felt anything. You took the smiles and glances in the paddock as a sign of friendship, nothing more. 

All of a sudden, it was naive to think those moments were just friendly. 

You didn’t want to admit anything, you didn’t want to have feelings for a driver who lived on the other side of the world. You didn’t want to look at him and imagine a future where you’d be standing in his garage, attending events at his side, holding his hand when the pressure of the crowds and cameras became unbearable because as long as you could squeeze his fingers and let him know you were with him, it would be easier to breathe, for both of you to breathe.

Oh, you were fucked.

Because that was all you wanted.

You just didn't realise it until now.

Lance sent you a shy smile, purposely avoiding Lewis’ knowing stare and devious smirk as he walked towards the elevators. You felt yet another nudge in your side and it was at this moment, you couldn’t tell if you hated or loved having Lewis as your brother.

The teasing you could do without.

But if it weren’t for him, would you have ever let yourself accept that you did feel something for Lance? Or did it take Lewis pointing it out for you to realise it was impossible to ignore?

“So are you going to do anything?” Lewis asked and you really didn’t have an answer. 

All you could do was shrug and tell him that you’ll sleep on it. You told yourself that if you saw him in the paddock tomorrow and still felt that pull towards him, still thought about what it would be like to act on those feelings, then maybe, just maybe, you might do something.

But Monza ended up being a wild race to follow. You barely left the Mercedes motorhome in the morning, the race was littered with yellow flags and your focus was on Lewis and his fight rather than trying to find time to see the Aston Martin driver. 

In fact, your attention didn’t even go towards him until the end of the race neared and you noticed he was sitting in fourth place. In the back of your mind, you rooted that he would podium, but when Lewis finished second, you celebrated with him and his team. You didn’t give yourself a chance to think about Lance and his fourth place finish.

You didn’t see Lance in person at all on Sunday and you took that as a sign. 

A sign that whatever Lewis put in your head last night was not something you needed to act on.

You stayed in London during the next three races. While Lewis did invite you to come with, he always did, travelling from Singapore to Japan to Qatar seemed exhausting and you could support your brother from the comfort of your flat in London.

Lance noticed your lack of presence in the paddock though. 

He didn’t want Lewis’ words to get to him, but they did. He tried to perform his best during those races, but the most he could do was pull off a P5 finish in Japan. In Singapore he finished 7th and he had to retire in Qatar. 

Maybe he did do better when you were there.

Lance knew he should have acted on Lewis’ advice to make a move, win you over, when he had the chance to, when you were both in Monza, but you slipped right through his fingers. He saw you once in the morning, when you were walking into the Mercedes motorhome, but you were balancing a phone between your shoulder and cheek and Lance couldn’t bring himself to interrupt you. Not when he didn’t even have an idea as to what to say.

It was Monday morning in Qatar and Lance was at the airport when he pulled out his phone and mindlessly opened up Instagram. Was he hoping to see a new post from you? Yes, but he would never admit that out loud. 

But he saw it. A photo with a group of your friends at some restaurant in London. Your smile was illuminating, you were having fun, you were enjoying yourself. 

Lance was envious. Not because he wasn’t enjoying himself, but because he wanted to be there with you, he wanted to know what it was that made your head tilt back in laughter at the same time the photo was taken. 

“She’s going to New York.”

Lance looked up from where he sat in the secluded corner of the private lounge. It wasn’t uncommon to run into a driver or two in the airport the morning after a race, and it was more common to see them in the designated first-class lounges too. 

Lewis sat down across from him, eyeing the phone in his hands. He must have been behind lance when he was hovering his thumb over your photos, trying to decide if liking it crossed some sort of line. He was cautious. He didn’t want to overstep, especially with Lewis watching the two of you like you were some sort of blockbuster movie and he had front row seats.

“She’s going to New York,” Lewis repeated, doing his best to keep the sly grin off his face. “And then she’ll be in Austin for the race, but she’s going to New York first.”

Lance sighed, carefully treading the waters, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you didn’t do anything in Monza.”

“Do anything?” He asked, but the clarification was just for appearances. They both knew what Lewis was referring to. 

“She’s going to New York,” Lewis repeated for the final time, palms hitting his legs before he stood up. “Do whatever you want with that information.” He patted Lance on the shoulder as he walked towards the opposite end of the room, letting Lance sit there in tense uncertainty.

It would be stupid for Lance to go to New York, wouldn’t it? 

It would be stupid for Lance to go home to Montreal only to stare at his phone when you posted a photo of a restaurant in New York and then something on your story of the lobby of a hotel that Lance was fairly certain was the Mandarin Oriental in Manhattan because he had stayed there before and the walls looked horribly familiar.

It would be incredibly stupid of him to call up his friend who just so happened to live in Manhattan and make up some bullshit excuse that he was visiting the city and how it would be fun to catch a Rangers game, that way he had a reason to post New York on his story without it being too obvious that he was in New York the same time you were.

Lance knew that all of this was childish. Book a last minute trip to New York in hopes that it would get your attention? Who did that?

Lance, apparently.

You were in your hotel room on Saturday night when Lewis texted you. There were no words, just a screenshot of an instagram story that clearly showed Lance in attendance at a hockey game. You texted back saying ‘stop trying to play cupid’. 

But you had to admit, you were a little happy to hear that Lance was in the same city as you after not seeing him for over a month.  

You could have let it be, let fate decide whether or not you two would run into each other, but sometimes fate needed a little push.

So when you went out for drinks with a friend that night, you made sure to publicly post which lounge you were at. 

To anyone on the outside, you and Lance were sharing your personal lives on social media, something that you often did anyway, but Lance was an introvert, so this caught the curious eyes of a few of his friends and fans.

No one had an idea that this was the two of you communicating. That this was you saying I’m here, come find me, knowing that Lance would see and respond.  

His friend invited him to a bar after the hockey game, but Lance said he had other plans, which he did. He wanted to find you. He ordered a car to the restaurant you had posted on your story and it wasn’t long until he was wandering through the booths, keeping an eye out for you and your friends.

When he felt a tap on his shoulder, Lance got his hopes up. Thinking that finally timing would work out in his favour. 

But it was one of your friends. He recognised her from the pictures you shared. She had a glass and her phone balanced in one hand and she eyed up the Aston Martin driver with a bit of hesitation.

“Lance, right?” She asked, having recognised him as well. “I’m Y/N’s friend.”

“Is she-” he glanced up, one more look around the lounge. “Is she here?”

“She left about ten minutes ago,” your friend nodded, sounding about as disappointed as he felt. “She really thought you’d show up.”

“Yeah, fate’s not on our side I guess,” Lance tried to laugh it off, raising his hand up to scratch the hair on the back of his head. He then realised just how underdressed he was for this lounge, repping a Rangers jersey while everyone here was dressed with the intention of leaving a good impression. He didn't even think about changing first, he just wanted to find you.

Lance headed back to his hotel, trying to ignore the pitiful look from your friend. It seemed like a few people in your life wanted the two of you to finally connect outside the paddock. 

But it shouldn’t have been a shock to anyone when the paddock was what finally brought you together.

You left New York the next day, heading straight to Texas to meet Lewis. He had work to do aside from Formula 1 obligations, work that involved his charities and that also involved you. So while you went to the Southern state earlier than expected, Lance was stuck in New York, trying to figure out his next move. 

And you were also trying to piece together what was going to happen next.

Your friend had texted you, saying Lance did end up showing up after you left and you wanted to scream into the void, asking yourself why didn’t you just hold off a little longer. 

You could have taken it as a sign. Another reason why you should just push your feelings aside. You two just couldn’t seem to get it right. 

Lance entered the paddock on Friday morning, holding his card against the gate scanner. Sunglasses covered his face from the scolding sun, but there wasn’t much he could do to get away from the cameras that lined the walkway.

He waited until after the morning briefing to look for a hideout, something he did at most races. Just a place to breathe if he needed it and right now he did. 

Was he intentionally walking in the direction of the Mercedes motorhome in hopes that he would spot you? Lance would say no, but the all-knowing smirk Lewis gave him when they passed each other said otherwise. 

Lance had just walked past Mercedes when the doors to the motorhome opened and you stepped out, shielding your phone screen from the sun with your hand as you tried to read the text Lewis sent you. 

‘Come outside, turn right.’

You looked right, expecting to see Lewis, because why else would he tell you to go outside? 

But instead you recognized the green Aston Martin t-shirt in the soon to be growing crowd and you knew that, even though you had just missed each other once again, you couldn’t take this as a sign to go back inside and wait for the next chance encounter. 

You had to make your own fate.

You walked down the steps and picked up your pace until you reached Lance. He had one of his airpods in, so he didn’t hear you approach from behind but he did feel the faint touch of a hand on his arm, guiding him to stop walking. 

Lance took the airpod out and looked at you. Eyebrows slightly pinched together as he tried to figure out if now, here, in the paddock was the right time to do something, to finally let those feelings he had for you win. 

“Hi,” you breathed out. 

And then you smiled and Lance knew he was done for. 

He was tired of waiting too, tired of dancing around the idea of you and him. This is what he wanted and he knew now, this was what you wanted. 

“Hi,” he smiled back, absolutely glowing under the Austin sun, but he could say the same thing about you. Lance glanced down the paddock, “I was just going for a walk. Did you want to join me?”

“I’d love to.”

The lack of hesitation on your part gave Lance the confidence he needed to keep going, to not let this be restricted to just race weekends.

“What are you doing later?” He asked, and then laughed at the ridiculousness of his question. “I mean, after practice? Do you- do you have plans? Do you have dinner plans?”

You liked that he was a little awkward and a little unsure. He was cute, he was sweet, he was standing right in front of you after god knows how long you spent denying that he wasn’t anything more than someone you smiled at in passing. 

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, keeping the teasing tone to a minimum. You weren’t Lewis, you didn’t want him to overthink the idea of you two being together. 

Lance nodded, “I guess I am.”

Your smile grew, which was a response in itself. The two of you probably looked like young idiots as you stood in the paddock, both too giddy to get another word out. But that’s how it was supposed to be. You wanted to be with someone who made it hard for you to put together a sentence, you wanted to be with someone who made you smile so much you felt the discomfort in your cheeks. You wanted to be with someone who wanted you as much as you wanted them. 

And Lance was that someone.

---

ynhamilton

liked by lewishamilton, chloestroll and 65,827 others

tagged: lance_stroll

ynhamilton something about fate?

view all 6,182 comments

lance_stroll life is better with you in it

lewishamilton you are welcome

danielricciardo this was your doing? lewishamilton just call me cupid

chloestroll the cutesttt

tbh im not in love with this and there will probably be another lance one shot coming soon to make up for it

[music-tourney]

All songs have been chosen for the 90s music tourney

Lithium by Nirvana

Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill

Ironic by Alanis Morrisette

She don't use Jelly by Flaming Lips

Iris by Goo Goo Dolls

What's Up by 4 non blondes

Peaches by Presidents of the United States

Criminal by Fiona Apple

Bitch by Meredith Brooks

Good Riddance (Time of your Life) by Green Day

… Baby One More Time by Britney Spears

Sober by TOOL

Breakfast at Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something

Wonderwall by Oasis

Love Fool by The Cardigans

baby got back by sir mix-a-lot

whatta man by salt n peppa

No Scrubs by TLC

Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants

Losing my Religion by REM

Fem in a Black Leather Jacket by Pansy Division

No Rain by Blind Melon

Friday I'm in Love by The Cure

Mr. Jones by Counting Crows

Californication by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Tubthumping by Chumbawamba

Zombie by Cranberries

Smooth By Santana Ft. Rob Thomas

One Week by Barenaked Ladies

Semi Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind

Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer

All Star by Smash Mouth

Buddy Holly by Weezer

My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion

Genie in a Bottle By Christina Aguilera

Barbie Girl by Aqua

Spice up your life by Spice Girls

Steal My Sunshine By Len

Cannonball by the Breeders

Bittersweet Symphony by the Verve

What is Love By haddaway

Follow you down by Gin Blossom

Freedom by George Michael

Nothing Compares to You by Sinead o Connor

Around the World by Daft Punk

Laid by James

Possum Kingdom by Toadies

Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger

Only Happy When it Rains by Garbage

Bullet with Butterfly Wings by Smashing Pumpkins

Sunny Came Home by Shawn Colvin

Pepper by Butthole Surfers

Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham

Tim I wish you were born a girl by of Montreal

Voodoo by Godsmack

Mambo No. 5 by Lou Bega

Livin La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

Just a Girl by No Doubt

Closer by Nine Inch Nails

California Live by Tupac

I will Always Love you by Whitney Houston

Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman

Good Day by Ice Cube

Gin and Juice by Snoop Dogg

Dragula by Rob Zombie

My Name is by Eminem

You Get What You Give by New Radicals

No Diggity by Blackstreet

Loser by Beck

pretty fly (for a white guy) by the offspring

What's my Age Again by Blink-182

I want it that way by the Backstreet Boys

Intergalactic By the Beastie Boys

Two Princes by Spin Doctor

Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine

Girls and Boys by Blur

Where is my mind by the Pixies

Closing Time by Semisonic

Creep by Radiohead

Say My Name by Destiny's Child

Jump Around by House of Pain

Check the Rhime by A Tribe Called Quest

November Rain by Guns n Roses

The Distance by CAKE

Every You, Every Me by Placebo

The Sign by Ace of Base

Vogue by Madonna

Don't Let Go (Love) by En Vogue

Mm Bop by Hansen

Believe By Cher

Mo Money, Mo Problems by Notorious BIG

Gold Soundz by Pavement

The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) by Missy Elliot

Common People by Pulp

Doll Parts by Hole

Gangsta's Paradise by Coolio

[86espresso]

summer went away, still the yearning stays ✰ cc13

sum ; friends to lovers but they’re not stupid

warnings ; fluff, making out 🔥

request ; yes

🩷 ; thank you for requesting I hope u like it :) this is so rushed im sorry

wc ; 926

You knew nothing would ever top the sunsets at the lake, but there was something surreal and beautiful about watching them while leaves rusted and crisped and fell around you, and you were on the rooftop of your apartment building, overlooking downtown Montreal.

You knew that fall was a quieter, slower time than the bustle of the rest of the year. Yes, it signaled the start of school, work, and sports season, but there was nothing like walking in the park while it rained leaves and crunching them underneath your feet, hand in hand with Cole.

Oh, yeah, Cole.

You first met him when he was leaving his apartment that was two floors down from yours, clad in a suit for some reason, and you gave him a small wave while heading to your first little job in the city, having just moved there for your studies.

And you just happened to be working in Bell Center, where Cole played hockey.

He was making his debut that same night, and you caught a glimpse of him in the halls where he gave you a smile and a nod and you returned it, basically a silent ‘good job on your first day’.

Eventually, the two of you noticed that you practically had the same leaving times, and got to chatting, exchanging names and numbers, him walking you to your car before heading to his own, offering each other rides back home from the arena if the other didn’t have one, buying coffee for two to hand to each other when you reached work, just a whole series of events leading to sleepovers in each other apartments, watching movies, cooking each other dinner, bonding over being new to the team, and finding comfort and solace in a place farm from home, with each other.

This lead to him introducing his new best friend to his friends in Michigan over the summer. It went by quite normally, sparing the fact that Cole’s hand would linger on your bare shoulder for longer than it should, he would look at you as if you were the only person ever even though the people he hadn’t seen in months were right there, and he had this tendency to be affectionate with you, even if it was all casual. And you’re a smart girl; you knew that there was no way that was casual.

The final nail in the coffin was Cole’s friends looking at him weird every time he brushed his lips against your temple, or when he tenderly traced your jaw before offering to carry you up the stairs when he noticed you nodding off against his shoulder. That’s how you knew you weren’t delusional. But wow, did it do something to your heart. Every time the sun hit his beautiful flow-y hair, and lit up his face in a pool of gold, you felt something stutter in your chest. His little touches felt like fireworks that went from his fingertips into your skin. And he’s a smart boy; he knew you felt something, too.

Regardless, you inhale deeply, watching cars go by at a distance, zooming back forth with cares in the world that had nothing to do with yours. A minute later you heard footsteps.

He always knew where to find you.

You look up to see Cole, dressed casual just like you, lighting a blunt and sitting down next to you. You fell into comfortable silence with him, watching the blunt roll over his lips before he pulls it out to let out a puff of smoke. He turns to you, and instead of giving it to you in your hand, he presses it against your lips.

You give him a show, maintains eye contact while wrapping your lips around it and using the corner of your mouth to blow out the smoke. His lip twitches, he’s amused.

You go back and forth with the roll until Cole speaks up.

“Y’know,” he starts, “My favorite part about getting back to work, after all the chilling over the summer, is knowing that you’ll be here too. With me.”

He’s never been afraid of saying sweet things to you, but this was new. It ignited something within you; the small part of you that wanted him as something more grew at an astronomical rate. You realized that you really, really wanted him that way.

“Cole-” You whisper, “that’s- why’re you-?”

You turn to look at him and notice that he’s scooted closer to you. Very close. The steady thrum of your heart caused by the blunt started to quicken and intensify. The way he looked at you was just so full of unspoken words that he was dying to tell you and you lived for it. You didn’t have time to dwell over your awkward stuttering when he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Can I kiss you, please?” You muster a nod and he connects your lips in a warm embrace. His hand moves down your your neck and your cup his face in yours. Your lips mold gently against each other, memorizing and basking in the taste of your blunt on the others’ tongue.

You start breathing in short puffs through your nose, not yet ready to pull away even though you were breathless. Cole does it for you, hoarsely chuckling and resting his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see him already looking at you, lips swollen and red. Eyes bright and electric.

The new season sure was going to be his best.

[wintfleur]

𓈒 ୭ৎ ˖˙ ᰋ ── SHE’LL GET YOU LOVESTONED !

aka rosa’s profile

━━━ ❛ why you so obsessed with me? boy, I wanna know

ᡣ𐭩 BASICS .ᐟ

name: rosalie grace hughes 

nicknames:

rosa (everyone) 

rosie (close friends & family) 

alie (parents) 

grace (parents)

ro (brothers) 

nerd (jack) 

rosie posey (cole) 

birthday and zodiac: february 11th 2002, aquarius 

age: 22 

location: 

orlando, florida (born) 

toronto, canada (former) 

ann arbor, michigan 

multiple different places for acting 

montreal, québec canada (currently) 

ᡣ𐭩 APPEARANCE  .ᐟ

eye color: brown 

hair color: brown 

hair styles: rosa has naturally wavy hair so she likes keeping it down, she rarely curls or straightens it. She likes having her hair in ponytails, braids, messy buns or pigtails. But she normally just likes having her hair down. 

height: 5’5 

scars: none 

piercing(s): both of her front lobes 

tattoo(s): none 

face claim: martyna balsam (sometimes madison beer in smau’s) 

ᡣ𐭩 ABOUT  .ᐟ

personality: rosa has a very playful and charming personality, she has that personality that just makes you naturally drawn to her. She's often described as laidback, flirty, friendly, kind, sarcastic and hardworking and someone who is never afraid to speak their mind.  rosa can be very extroverted around the people she is comfortable with and can be very silly and playful, but she can also be very introverted and quiet. She cares deeply for the people she loves and is always there for them. She is very family and friend oriented and likes being around people. 

good traits: passionate, hard-working, reliable, family oriented, comforting, witty, 

bad traits: holds grudges, self-critical, too bold at times, emotional when tired

quirks: pouts and tilts head when confused, rolls eyes, touchy with people she's comfortable with, flirts, casually dominate, never losing the idgaf war, rambling about her books she's reading, fidgeting with her jewelry 

likes: christmas, rain and the smell of rain, buying candles, scary movies, cold weather, coloring, natural sunlight, her Nintendo switch, miniskirts, beating her brothers when they play hockey together, naps, playing the piano, making playlists, f1, snoopy

dislikes: rude people, inpatient people, vegetables, not being able to fall asleep on long flights, losing to her brothers at video games, people being surprised that she's really smart just because she's pretty 

hobbies: drawing, reading, dancing, baking, skating, running, pilates, video games, traveling 

fears: clowns, spiders, snakes, tight spaces, the dentist

strengths: confident, creative, helpful, organized, ambitious 

weaknesses: having a healthy sleep schedule, eating vegetables, her anxiety 

languages spoken: english (fluent) french (fluent) 

occupation/profession: model/influencer, fashion design student at mcgill university, and actress 

ambition/dream: to have her own clothing line 

current concern: convincing cole that they should get another kitty

currently listening to: São Paulo - The Weeknd ft. Anitta

ᡣ𐭩 RELATIONSHIPS  .ᐟ

parents:

jim hughes 

ellen weinberg-hughes 

sibling(s):

quinn hughes

jack hughes 

luke hughes 

best friends: lorelai maddox carrington, elijah park, alex turcotte, trevor zegras, finn wolfhard, sophie thatcher, sadie sink, bianca dela luna

friends: the rest of the habs, vinnie hacker, matthew knies, jamie drysdale, matt boldy, william nylander, jake neighbours, stranger things cast, the outer banks cast, yellowjackets cast, twisters cast, fear street cast, billie eilish, mark lee

love interest: cole caufield 

pet(s): a kitty named ollie

ᡣ𐭩 MORE .ᐟ

scent: rosa has always had a sensitive nose with fragrances, so she's always stuck with a few signature perfumes. Her chosen few are, chanel coco mademoiselle,  calvin klein euphoria, parfums de marly paris. 

outfits: rosa’s big three for her outfits are, any type of skirts (preferably a miniskirt), low rise jeans and boots/platforms. rosa always tries to look her best and be presentable and she's honestly slightly obsessed with shopping, so she has a large wardrobe, not just from shopping but also from sponsors/modeling. If she's going for comfort, she likes to wear mom jeans, sweatpants, jean or cloth shorts, fleece pullovers, hoodies, sweaters, cardigans etc. For everyday clothing, she likes wearing jeans, skirts, baby tees, button down cropped blouses, long sleeves, sundresses. For special occasions, she likes wearing shorter dresses with tights, or slacks with corset tops.  

accessories: rosa mostly accessories with bags, sunglasses/non prescription glasses, jewelry, and headwear. Such as, headbands, hair clips and pins, baseball caps, berets, bucket hats. She likes including ear muffs, scarves, leg and arm warmers. She’s very creative with wearing accessories but it really all just depends on her outfit. She loves bags like she has a large collection of them, mostly prada, coach and christian dior bags. With her larger bags she likes having cute little keychains addons, and with her smaller bags she likes tying bows and having smaller keychains on them. She also loves getting her nails done, she prefers when they are short and she likes almond nails the most. 

jewelry: she enjoys both silver and gold but mostly leans into gold. Again it really depends on the outfit she is wearing. She doesn't like overusing jewelry and having a lot on at a time, especially with her everyday life. She likes having a few bracelets and a thin watch on, a few rings and of course a necklace and her earrings. She has a lot of different types of rings, mostly vintage ones. Her favorite jewelry pieces are her mood ring, her charm bracelet, her pendant necklace, and her lucky gold hoops. 

makeup: rosa isn't the biggest fan of having makeup on, especially on her face because it makes her feel uncomfortable. She's a big fan of curling her eyelashes and using mascara, and eyeliner (on her waterline as well) . She likes using a little blush but her cheeks are naturally rosey so she normally uses blush in the winter, maybe sometimes even a little highlighter. She does always have something on her lips, lip gloss, lipstick or lip tint, mostly pinks and nude shades. 

sexuality: bisexual 

ᡣ𐭩 FAVORITES .ᐟ

food(s): blueberries, any fruit really, pancakes, granola bars, white cheddar cheezits, pasta, chicken wings 

drink(s): sprite, cherry sprite, redbull 

color(s): earth tones 

animal(s): bears, cats & bunnies 

bands and artist: the weeknd, avril lavigne, lana del rey, marina and the diamonds, lady gaga, gwen stefani, cassie 

show(s): the vampire diaries, outer range, gossip girl, supernatural 

movie(s): christmas with the kranks, bratz, harry potter, lord of the rings, step up series, twilight series

person: cole and luke

ᡣ𐭩 BACKGROUND .ᐟ

rosalie hughes was born on a beautiful day in orlando florida 

initially ellen and jim were told by the doctors that rosalie was going to be a boy, and it wasn't until late in the pregnancy when the doctors realized that they were wrong. 

the family were extremely happy to be having a girl though, especially quinn! 

growing up rosalie was very much a daddy’s and mommy’s girl, she was very attached to her parents, never wanting to be away from them. 

when rosa was 5 she was put in ballet and she continued to dance all the way until she was 15, ballet, jazz, contemporary and modern. 

rosa was introduced to modeling when she was 14 

but when she was 8 and until she was 14 she played hockey, but she stopped because she wanted to focus on modeling and acting 

rosa found her love for fashion designing when she was 15, through modeling and acting 

when she was 13 rosa made her debut in acting as a main character in stranger things season one, playing the younger sister of steve harrington 

through middle school and highschool she was apart of her theater club

rosa skipped a year in highschool so she graduated the same year as jack 

in the summer of 2019 rosa started filming for outer banks, acting as a main character for the show, playing as John B's younger sister. 

rosa moved to montreal when she was 18 for college, quickly became the top student in all of her classes 

in november of 2019, rosa filmed the pilot of yellowjackets in los angeles, but the filming was put on hold because of covid-19, then in spring of 2021 she filmed the rest of the first season as a main character 

she was part of the trilogy fear street movies as a main character 

in the summer of 2023 she filmed twisters, she was a main character, and portrayed the younger sister of tyler owens 

in June of 2023 she started filming as a main character in gladiator 2

ᡣ𐭩 FUN FACTS  .ᐟ

rosa is very popular on instagram and tiktok, having 48 million subscribers on instagram and 29 million on her tiktok. 

rosa absolutely loves reading, she has said multiple times that her books are her babies 

rosa used to have a big crush on matthew tkachuk, something her brothers and brady loved to tease her about. 

rosa is at the top of her fashion designing classes, shes very talented at it

rosa loves exploring her creativity, through fashion, dance and different types of art. 

rosa walked at the 2024 victoria secret fashion show 

when rosa played hockey her position was center 

rosa’s celebrity crushes are, channing tatum, miles teller, and hailee steinfeld

rosa was quick to dominate in the modeling world, winning a few awards. 

she loves living by herself and having her independence, but she gets homesick often 

she loves cat and dogs equally 

jack likes to teasingly call her a nerd because she loves to study and learn 

rosa loves studying and learning new things, she's always been an academic weapon 

rosa has a private twitter account where she posts the most random things on it 

she loves cooking and baking, cooking and baking for people is one of her love languages 

rosa has many celebrity friends from modeling and acting 

because of her acting and modeling career she does do lot of her college schooling online

rosa is very loved by the media / public, her interviews etc. always get millions of views 

she travels a lot because of acting and modeling

she's very attached to her ipad and her nintendo switch, like those are her babies 

she loves stickers, she loves putting them on things, she's known for being a sticker lover 

elijah park, who is one of rosa’s best friends, is one of her neighbors in her apartment building. they met in college in one of her fashion designing classes and instantly clicked 

rosa’s friend mark lee is in a kpop group, nct. They met when they were kids in Canada and became even closer as the years went on

one of rosa’s best friend lorelai (who is the oc of @winterbarnesblog) is dating arber so they met through him 

on the stranger things cast rosa is the closest to, finn wolfhard, sadie sink and joe keery 

on the outer banks cast rosa is the closest to, drew starkly, madelyn cline and jonathan daviss 

on the yellowjackets cast rosa is the closest to, sophie thatcher, courtney eaton, sophie nélisse and ella purnell 

on the fear street cast rosa is the closest to, sadie sink, maya hawke and emily rudd 

on the twisters cast rosa is the closest to, glen powell and daisy edgar-jones 

on the gladiator cast she is the most closest too, Joseph Quinn, Fred hechinger and Pedro pascal

there are so many pictures of her asleep in a chair taken by her cast mates 

she gets babied a lot by like eveyrone

she talks to her parents every single day 

she hates having unread notifications, the red dots stress her out 

she gets so flustered wherever she's put on the big screen at the hockey games she goes to 

she thrives on being busy 

her favorite f1 team is mclaren 

mark estapa has the biggest crush on her, he's like a lovesick puppy whenever he's around her and it drives her brothers crazy, especially luke because mark is always asking him about her 

juraj slafkovský is her son, she unofficially adopted him

her all-time favorite hockey team since she was a kid was the Toronto maple Leafs but she will take that to the grave (literally almost everyone knows) 

she is very talented at tennis and golf, honestly any sport really 

on the devils she is the closest to, nico hischier and dawson mercer

on the canucks she is the closest to brock boeser and elias pettersson 

she takes journaling very seriously!! 

she has a very detailed calendar, and she swears that it's the only thing keeping her alive because of her busy life 

she loves animals so much; she loves going to visit ranches and farms 

her dream is to have her own ranch when her and cole retire 

she is an extroverted introvert 

she loves watching movies and shows

not really a party girl, she prefers to just stay inside or having chill gatherings with her friends 

but will occasionally have fun at a party 

knows how to country line dance 

she is very clingy, likes physical touch 

she makes playlists for the people she cares about 

she really has a big heart and has a fear of being taken advantage of because of her kindness. 

she’s a hopeless romantic

her favorite YouTuber is stephanie soo

she loves true crime, and knows the most random facts about it

has a big crush on klaus mikaelson

a big fan of Scooby doo

dressed up as Velma like 3 times before

she loves planning outings for her and her friends

a lot of people (hockey players, celebrities, random people) have confessed to having a crush on rosa and her being their type

she is heavily praised by the modeling / fashion designing / actor world for her natural and amazing talent, and her wonderful personality

she really is the it girl !!

she’s such a trendsetter

her main instagram account is @/rosaliehughes 

her private instagram account is @/roseyposeys 

her private twitter is @/hugsybears 

ᡣ𐭩 VISUALS  .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 POSTS N MORE  .ᐟ

rosaliehughes just posted !

📍montreal, quebec

liked by dacremontgomery , yellowjackets , _willsmith2 and more

🏷️ finnwolfhardofficial , soapy.t

🎵 : art - tyla

rosaliehughes guess who came to visit me :P

view all comments

soapy.t  promise to visit again soon 🙂‍↕️

rosaliehughes I miss you already 🙁

finnwolfhardofficial it was good to see ollie again

rosaliehughes finn my cat hates you..

daisyedgarjones you truly are a blessing to my eyes 😻

rosaliehughes 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

sadiesink_ WTF FINN SAID YOU WERE TOO BUSY FOR VISITS??

finnwolfhardofficial i wanted her for myself 😾

rosaliehughes finn is a pathological liar 😾

finnwolfhardofficial it’s true it says so on my resume…

sadiesink_ IM BOOKING MY FLIGHT RN 😾

jonathandavissofficial we love a studious gal

rosaliehughes ikr, the bad sleep schedule and redbull addiction is so sexy

jackhughes but you said you had no time for visitors 😿

lhughes_06 no she said she had no time for you…

jackhughes go do your laundry

rosaliehughes don’t boss luke around Jack 😾

trevorzegras I’m gonna miss you when I scroll…

rosaliehughes that’s oddly sweet of you….what do you want 🤨

jennaortega mama 😻

username Jenna is so real for that

username finn and rosa are my fav duo

username praying for a rosa and sophie kiss in season 3 🙏

courtneyeaton my girls 💋

rosaliehughes heyyyyy *replies in nonchalant and acts like I’m totally not in love with you*

soapy.t babes I think you really got her this time 😼

_quinnhughes boo more ollie 🍅

rosaliehughes LEAVE ME ALONE

matthewknies lots of boots ya got there

rosaliehughes lots of asses I gotta kick 👢💥

mattboldy the fact that, that little bear is still attached is mind blowing

rosaliehughes no thanks to you 🫵 you are the one who threw her in the lake

obx our pogue princess 👸🏻

rosaliehughes mwah mwah 😽

vinniehacker I know ur busy in your scholar era but like valo?? I’m having withdrawals

rosaliehughes ITS NOT AN ERA IM A COLLEGE STUDENT…when I got home I’ll call you

glenpowell how’s my favorite not real sister doing?

rosaliehughes check ur msgs

glenpowell no shot you just sent me a 2 minute audio message of you straight out screaming

_slafkovsky_ what’s 8 + 8???

rosaliehughes 16?? 😭😭

_slafkovsky_ wait I don’t think I did this right 🙁

rosaliehughes no no you did perfect 🫶🏻

drewstarkey where do I book my visit?

rosaliehughes click the link in my bio! 💋

_alexturcotte THATS MY BESTIE

rosaliehughes BAD BITCH WITH HER BADDIE FRIEND 💅

markestapa Heyyy *leans against my mansion that has a bunch of fruit and pancakes because I know they are your favorite, and it just so happens that my home move theater is playing twilight…crazy coincidence omg*

lhughes_06 mark please enough 😓

rosaliehughes you’re so cute mark 🫶🏻

markestapa SHE CALLEF ME CUTE SHE WNATS ME @/edwards.73

edwards.73 get a grip bro 🤣

elijahparkk someone needs to cut your redbull intake I couldn’t focus in class cause you were practically shaking next to me 🫵

rosaliehughes okay listen here…

elijahparkk ….I’m listening ☝️

colecaufield BOOM SHAKALAKA YES GAWD 😩💥

colecaufield truly blessing my eyes

colecaufield I’m the luckiest man alive 😍

rosaliehughes nooo I’m the luckiest girl alive 😽

colecaufield yeah I’m gonna marry you 😩

roro’s note. HERE SHE IS !! OUR GIRL ROSA 😻 I really hope you guys love her, I’ve honestly have been working so hard on her and I’m so excited for this AU so muchhhh so please send in as many thoughts as you want …. what do you guys like most about her? I had so much fun making those tweets omg

au m.list

˖ ་ taglist : @lesrflms @winterbarnesblog @toasttt11 @cixrosie @iceflwers

©️WINTFLEUR

[dreamauri]

┇𝗗𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 - prologue ┇ ─ ୨୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ─ ┇you're the best, an unbeatable driver fighting for a place on the grid ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 858 ) ╰ 🫧  :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

☆★ yayy!! thank you @lorarri for the title <3 i did a little character introduction at the end cause this series is going to have a lot of ocs (not y/n), anyways, enjoyyy ━━

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests )

2015 — Baku, Azerbaijan

The F1 grid watched intensely. You didn't need to over take, already in P1 with your trophy secured. But you did anyways, passing drivers one by one till you once more made it to the top of the grid. "Phenomenal performance by Seventeen, securing her Win once more."

Daniel Riccardo, Max Verstappen and and Carlos Sainz had stayed over to watch the F2 race, Crossing Paths once more with the all too famous masked driver. Jumping out of your car, you're greeted with your team shouting your number over and over as they hugged and kissed your famous black helmet. "Seventeen? Who names their child a number?" Carlos asked leaning on the edge watching.

"I don't think that's her real name, mate." Daniel commented taking a sip of the redbull can. "It's not, she doesn't use her real name. You can say it's like a . . . What do you call it? For superheroes?"

"Code name?" "Yeah, codename." Max nodded, his eyes trained on you as you did your post race duties and podium celebration. "She's scary." Carlos shivered standing straight ready to leave.

"She's nice." Max mumbled watching as you passed by. He gave you a small wave, you returning it hesitantly. An unconscious smile crept on his face, a little blush dusting his cheeks.

"You like her?" Daniel whispered teasingly, making the teenage boy frown in denial. "She's just a good driver. I- I don't really care." He folded his arms glaring at the older man.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2016 — Qubec, Canada

"And that is ferrari's reserve driver, and apparent F2 champion, seventeen, defending Vettel from Riccardo." Making the Canadian grand Prix so early into the season was a mistake. It was raining heavily in Montreal, and heavy slush was expected sometime during the race.

You could barely see, relying on instinct only as you took the turns and the curves. Your heartbeat was in your ears and you could feel it in your mouth as you continued to defend your temporary teammate from the red bull driver.

You were forcing the wheel in erratic directions to keep on the racing line, understanding the algorithm of the rain. "Seb i— o—t, se— —s —ut. Floo— it." You heard the choppy voice over the radio, passing by the crashed out Ferrari.

"Fucking hell." You cursed, accelerating as you maneuverer through the rain like a pro. It felt amazing to be in such a fast car, a big step up from the F2 motor. You pushed the DRS button once you got the chance, overtaking the current reigning champion.

"P—, p—. Ke—p g—ing." You continued to push every corner. "P what?" You asked not hearing the message. "P—." "Oh for fucks sake. Radio is shitty." You shouted overtaking the apparent Manor.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"It's not always so easy to be high up in the standings as a rookie. How do you feel?" "My eyes hurt." You replied blandly to the interviewer, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Your face was covered from the nose down with your hair up in your famous claw clip bun, still wearing the '1st Place' cap for some reason. You were doing your best to keep the photographers from catching major features of your face, needless to say, you were doing a good job.

With Hamilton to your left and Riccardo on your right, you sat in the press conference room bored out of your mind as the interviewers asked you dumb questions. "You guys should go back to school. Maybe you can learn how to ask good questions for best results in writing essays."

"How old are you? Aren't you still in school." Lewis asked, chuckling as he turned to face you. "Graduated early." You shrugged, going back to facing the sea of journalists. "Is there a driver you would like to battle with the most?" "Um . . . Not really. They're either retiered or dead. Maybe . . . maybe Verstappen, Max not Jos. I've raced against him in the karting championships, I'm sure he improved and could put up a better fight now." "Do you think you'll get a full seat next season?"

"That's a difficult question. Not all uh . . . teams have enough trust in female drivers. Hopefully I demonstrated how worthy of a seat I am. I am after all the first and only female to finish on a podium and win a race so . . . we'll see where it goes."

It didn't go. It never was going to.

You were stuck in the factory, working on the car for someone else. And when a seat was finally free in 2018, you watched as they gave it to someone who was not you. You were furious, no other team would take you, a girl. Not even Ferrari wanted you on the track and you were an exeptional driver.

the only thing that kept you grounded was going back home to your family. Your uncle and cousin were your pride and joy, the ones that kept you going. But the question was, what were you going to do now?

— 𝐌𝐀𝐗 (𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍) | 1 🇳🇱 :: ↳ 1997.09.30 (25) ↳ red bull's golden boy ↳ three time world champion

— ??? (???) | 17 :: ↳ 2000.07.22 (22) ↳ f4 world champion, f3 world champion, f2 world champion ↳ 2016 rookie of the year ↳ youngest f1 race winner

— 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 (𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐒) | 7 🇩🇪 :: ↳ 1996.06.06 (25) ↳ mercedes second driver ↳ 2016 world champion ↳ youngest world champion

— 𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐊𝐄 (𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐒) | 25 🇩🇪 :: ↳ 2000.07.22 (22) ↳ mclaren second driver ↳ 2022 rookie of the year

— 𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐀 (𝐄𝐋 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐈) | 🇪🇬 :: ↳ 2014.05.06 (8) ↳ best cousin in the world

— 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐍 (𝐄𝐋 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐈) 🇪🇬 :: ↳ 1985.05.05 (38) ↳ #1 uncle

— 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 (𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐒) | 25 🇩🇪 :: ↳ 1971.01.17 (54) ↳ grumpy old retired driver ↳ 5 time world champion

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Top Shelf Love: Prologue

A/N: So, if you know me, you know that I love hockey. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's hockey romances because they are always so inaccurate that it's take you out of the story SO QUICK! Like what do you mean the captain of this NCAA D1 team is undrafted? What do you mean she magically has access to an NHL locker-room in the middle of a game? So this is my response to that! A super self-indulgent Nessian Hockey AU. For additional hockey context: Cassian is a defenseman for the NY Rangers; Rhys is a center for the Montreal Canadiens; Az is a winger for the Nashville Predators; and Lucien is a winger for the Toronto Maple Leafs. Anyways! Hope everyone enjoys this prologue and this absolute meet-ugly! Happy final day of @nestaarcheronweek

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Next Part

Nesta

Nesta sighs softly, tilting her head back against the leather of the seat. Almost instantly, she scrunches her nose, the stale scent of cigarettes, of sweat and previous occupants, flooding her senses. Eager for a distraction, she peers out the window instead. The skyscrapers loom like shadowed giants on either side of the road, a cascade of colorful lights spilling from their windows and reflecting off the wet roads, the puddles from the earlier rain. Throngs of bodies move along the sidewalks, neither the late hour or the dark clouds still clinging above deterring them clearly.

The city that never sleeps indeed.

The cab jerks to a stop along the curb, the driver not even bothering to turn around and say anything to her, merely tapping the fare display. With a roll of her eyes, Nesta fishes her wallet out of her purse to pay before finally slipping out of the cab. At least the driver pulls her suitcase from the trunk, setting it on the sidewalk beside her.

“Nesta! You finally made it!”

It takes everything within Nesta to swallow back down another sigh, takes all her willpower to force at least a hint of a smile to tug across her face. She can feel her earlier annoyance still simmering just beneath her skin, can still feel the exhaustion weighing down her bones. She’d give anything to be back in her own bed right now, anything to slip beneath her pile of blankets and curl up with a good book, but she’s here for Feyre, here to celebrate her baby sister.

So Nesta rolls her shoulders and plasters on an even wider smile before she turns around. But she should have known better, should have known that despite the physical distance between them, there’s no fooling her sisters. From the way Feyre raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching up in the barest hint of an unimpressed smirk, it’s clear she sees straight through Nesta.

“Sorry,” Nesta winces, her shoulders drooping already. “Journey from hell.”

“Sounds like you need a drink,” Elain offers with an easy smile, stepping forward and taking the handle of Nesta’s suitcase.

“Or five,” Feyre adds with a chuckle.

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t exactly disagree. A stiff drink definitely sounds appealing after the nightmare of the day she’s had.

“I saw online that a lot of flights were just straight canceled, so I think you’re lucky to have made it at all,” Elain comments, leading the way along the sidewalk.

“I don’t know that I’d call a six hour delay lucky,” Nesta grumbles, practically shuddering at the memory of being stuck sitting and waiting in an airport for so long.

Nesta follows her sisters inside the building, but they take the elevator down, rather than up, Elain leading the way toward a black SUV. She tells her sisters more about the horrible journey as they walk. About the surprisingly long line at security. About the storms in the midwest and the delays and havoc they wreaked on all flights. About the child that seemed determined to scream for the entire five hour flight.

Once Nesta’s bags are securely locked away in Elain’s car, they return to the elevator and take it all the way up to the eighteenth floor, the doors opening with a soft ding. There’s no stopping the way Nesta’s jaw slackens as she takes it all in. A large centerpiece extends from the floor and fans out into the ceiling, the lights embedded within it casting the entire bar and its occupants in glittering golds. Live music seems to be coming from somewhere, twining and molding with the laughter, the conversations, filling the space.

But it’s the windows that really draw Nesta’s attention. Floor to ceiling windows seem to line every wall, offering a truly panoramic view of all of New York City and the Hudson. It’s a picture perfect view of the twinkling lights and night sky through the rain droplets still clinging to the panes.

“Wow,” Nesta breathes, taking it all in. “This place is definitely nicer than I was expecting.”

“If you think this is nice, you should see their venue.”

It takes a few moments for Elain’s words to register, but then Nesta is snapping her head toward Feyre. “You have a venue already? Does that mean you’ve picked a date?”

“Yes,” Feyre answers, unable to bite back her grin. “Next summer. July specifically, after Rhys’s season has ended.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit optimistic to think he’ll still be playing through June?”

“Elain!” Feyre exclaims, reaching out to smack the middle Archeron in the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What?” Elain shrugs innocently. “It’s true. I mean what’s their current record again?”

“Because the Leafs do so well when they choke every year?”

“At least they make the playoffs.”

Nesta snorts softly at her sisters’ bickering. “Since when did you become a sports fan anyways, Elain?”

“I guess Lucien’s been filling her with more than just his dick.”

“Feyre!” Elain squeaks out, her cheeks flooding with a blush.

“Darling,” a deep voice practically purrs, interrupting them. “There you are. I was wondering where my beautiful fiancée got off to.”

“Rhys, this is my oldest sister, Nesta,” Feyre offers, sidling up against Rhys’s side, her fiancé’s arm settling over her shoulders with comfortable ease.

“A pleasure to meet you at last,” Rhys greets, holding up the glass in his free hand in a mock cheers. The gesture is a bit sloppy, some of the amber liquid in the glass sloshing over the rim and spilling across his fingers, and Nesta realizes there’s a haze to his violet eyes.

“It’s an open bar,” Feyre mouths, clearly reading Nesta’s expression.

“You don’t have a drink in your hand,” Rhys suddenly says, as though he’s only just realized. “We need to fix that immediately.”

Rhys turns on his heel, pushing his way through the various guests gathered to celebrate him and Feyre without a care. Nesta rolls her eyes, but Feyre has a wide, soft smile on her face as she watches him go, eyes practically sparking with fondness. It’s clear this is the man that makes her youngest sister happy, so she can’t fault him too much.

“He’s right, you know. You do need a drink still,” Feyre says, looping her arm through Nesta’s.

Feyre leads the way toward the bar built around the large centerpiece. She leans over and gets the attention of one of the bartenders with ease, ordering what she tells Nesta is the couple's signature cocktail. It seems to be some sort of margarita, a deep blue in color with edible glitter that looks almost like stars swirling through the liquid.

“So…” Feyre starts, taking a sip of her own drink.

“So…?” Nesta echoes, although she has a strong suspicion she already knows where this conversation is going. She knows that expression on her sister’s face all too well.

“Rhys’s brothers are here tonight.”

“And you need to stop being such a busybody.”

Feyre sighs, turning so her hip leans against the bar, facing Nesta fully. “Why? I’m an excellent matchmaker. Just ask Elain…” Feyre looks over her shoulder, but frowns, turning in a full circle with her eyebrows pinched low. “Wait. Where did Elain go?”

“She and Lucien probably found some dark corner to fuck like the bunnies they are,” Nesta answers dryly. It’s certainly the trend with those two, vanishing for a few hours before appearing again with slightly mussed clothes and hair, pink often clinging to the apples of Elain’s cheeks and a wide, shit eating grin plastered across Lucien’s face.

“That just proves my point! At least tell me you stalked his Instagram or something.”

“Emerie and Gwyn did.”

Her best friends had been trying to convince her to get back out there for a month now. Even with how much time has passed since everything happened, it still feels strange. Of course, that hasn’t stopped Emerie from dragging her out to bars for trivia nights and karaoke as if they’re the best places to meet someone new. It hasn’t stopped Gwyn from trying to tempt her to start a dating profile on at least one of the plethora of app options.

It hasn’t stopped either of them from hyping her up after they spent so long helping Nesta to piece together the shattered fragments of herself, of her life, back together. It’s why Nesta loves them, why she doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

But when Feyre had suggested setting Nesta up with Rhys’s adopted brother, practically raving over the phone about what a good fit the two of them would be together, it had been like blood in the water for Emerie and Gwyn. Nesta had barely hung up with her sister by the time Gwyn had tracked down his social medias and had them displayed on the television ‘for the best viewing experience.’

Cassian Valdarez.

Any other emotions aside, Nesta can admit he’s attractive, that much was clear from the photos and videos on his Instagram. With his dark, curly hair tumbling down to his shoulders, his bright hazel eyes. He had been grinning widely in most of the photos, golden skin of his cheeks stretched and crinkles popping beside his eyes. But even the one where his lips were tugged up in a lopsided, cocksure smirk had Nesta staring.

Nesta had done a lot of staring.

Staring at the photo of him in sunglasses and shirtless, lounging casually on some sort of boat, wide shoulders and swirling lines of ink on full display. The photo of him in a locker room, dressed only from the waist down, showing off the tantalizing lines of his abs, his v-lines. The Reel of him working out, chest heaving and skin glistening, biceps bulging with every lift of the weights. The reel of him stick handling with just gloves, in a tank and shorts, the muscles and veins of his forearms working with each flick of his wrist.

“Okay, and?” Feyre’s voice draws Nesta back to the present.

“And what?”

“And what did Gwyn and Emerie think?”

Nesta sighs softly, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “I mean, they said I should go for it.”

“Ha!” Feyre exclaims, loud enough to draw the attention of a few others up at the bar. “See? I’m right. A perfect match.”

“Feyre, don’t you think—”

“Feyre, darling, I keep losing you.” Rhys slips into the space behind Feyre, wrapping an arm around her waist. He dips his head enough to press his lips to her neck before raising his gaze to peer at Nesta over Feyre’s shoulder. “Sorry. Do you mind if I steal my fiancée away for a moment?”

“Not at all,” Nesta assures him, but it’s Feyre’s gaze she meets. “I’ll be fine.”

Feyre and Rhys vanish into the crowds hand and hand, and Nesta settles at the bar, sipping her drink. Her eyes flit around, but she truly doesn’t know anyone here outside of her sisters. And despite her earlier words to Feyre, all the people, all the sounds and the lights, are starting to grate against her nerves, prickling and dragging along her skin like nails. Even downing the remains of her drink doesn’t seem to help, the alcohol only weighing heavy in her gut.

Leaving her now empty glass on the bartop, Nesta spins on her heel and stalks toward one of the walls of windows. She glances around at the different tables set up, the booths that line the windows and offer the perfect seats for the views beyond. Maybe she can find a dark corner to hide in for a few hours, or maybe, if she’s lucky, Elain and Lucien will decide they want to leave early to continue whatever they’ve started in an actual bed.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

The deep voice has a shiver skittering up Nesta’s spine, warm breath fanning across her ear. She spins around and comes face to face with a pair of hazel eyes, a cocksure smirk she’s only seen in photo-form before. Cassian Valdarez, in the flesh. He doesn’t even bother for subtly as his gaze rakes over her, and Nesta has to swallow hard as she tracks the way he licks his lips.

“And what if I wasn’t?” Nesta dares to ask, raising her chin.

Cassian chuckles, stepping closer into her space. “I think we both know you were looking for me. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Cassian’s hand reaches up in the space between them, snagging one of the stray strands of Nesta’s hair and twisting it around his fingers. Those same fingers skate down her neck, across her collarbones, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch traces over her shoulder and down her arm before finally closing around her wrist, Nesta’s breath hitching at the warm of his hand, the size of it, and she can do nothing but follow along as he tugs her toward one of the booths by the windows.

He lets go long enough to fall back against the cushions, for Nesta to settle beside him, but then his hands are right back on her. This time, his palm slides against the skin above her knee, fingers teasing along the hem of her dress. His other arm stretches along the back of the booth, all but curling around her shoulders as he leans into her.

“You look gorgeous in this dress, you know.”

“But let me guess, it would look better on your bedroom floor?”

“You said it, not me, but I don’t disagree.”

Nesta snorts quietly, tempted to tell him that it was wrinkled when she yanked it out of her suitcase before she awkwardly changed into it in the airport bathroom. But she never gets the chance to. Cassian lifts his hand until his fingers curl around her jaw, tilting her chin up enough that he can slot their lips firmly together.

The kiss takes Nesta by surprise, but it doesn’t take her long to respond. She moves her lips against his, Cassian’s grip on her chin holding her exactly where he wants her. When his tongue slips into her mouth, she moans softly, fisting a hand into the front of his shirt to keep herself steady and to keep him close.

Cassian pulls back just enough that he can murmur, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Right now?” Nesta blurts out before she can stop herself. She’s certainly not opposed to the idea, but with tonight being the first time they’re meeting, she thought he might want to get to know her more first. What exactly did Feyre tell him about her?

“You know what they say. No time like the present.”

“I should probably tell my sister I’m leaving then.”

Cassian’s eyes seem to glint, even beneath the low light of the bar. “Is your sister here? Does she want to join?”

Nesta is sure that she must have misheard him. “What?”

“It could be fun. Two sisters, one hockey player,” Cassian says easily, even daring to wink at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Nesta can do nothing but gape at him, her mind reeling with this turn in conversation, but then it hits her like a ton of bricks. “You don’t know who I am.”

Cassian chuckles again, that cocksure smirk of his never slipping for a moment. “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

“Do you even know my name?” Nesta snaps, pulling further away from him.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that, sweetheart. All that really matters is you knowing my name so you can scream it tonight.”

“You didn’t even want to ask for it before you kissed me? You don’t even want to ask for it now?”

“Look. We both know what you came here for, what you puck bunnies are always looking for, and trust me, sweetheart. I am more than happy to give it,” Cassian offers, the way his eyes dance over her frame again nothing short of a leer. It stokes the anger flaring in Nesta’s veins higher, until it burns bright and hot.

“Wow,” Nesta scoffs, pushing up to her feet. “Fuck you.”

Nesta doesn’t even wait to hear whatever sputtering response he might give before she turns on her heel and stalks away from Cassian, pushing through bodies to put as much distance between them as she can. She’s never felt more stupid, can’t believe that she allowed Feyre to convince her that Cassian was some great guy, that the two of them would be some perfect match.

She can’t believe that she had started to believe her sister’s words, that that damned hope had started to bloom and put down roots in the gaps between her ribs.

Because of course. Of course, Cassian is just like every other guy, only thinking with the head between his legs without a single care for what happens once the sun rises. He’s exactly what Nesta expects from a professional athlete, cocky and sure of himself, expecting every girl to fall at his feet ready to worship him and suck his dick.

She finds Elain and Lucien in one of the other booths near the opposite side of windows. Elain has her legs draped across Lucien’s lap, giggling around the straw of her drink. Lucien seems to be smirking through whatever story he’s telling, his arm stretched across the back of the booth, fingers toying aimlessly with the soft brown curls of Elain’s hair.

“Can we go?” Nesta interrupts, looking between the two.

Elain blinks a few times, but then she starts nodding her head. “Of course. You’ve already had such a long day.”

Elain pushes up and to her feet, wobbling just slightly in her heels, but Lucien is there right behind her, his hands spanning across her waist to steady her. She smiles over her shoulder up at him before turning her attention to her purse, rooting around with a frown.

“Wait. Where are the keys?”

“I have them, my love,” Lucien answers, holding up the keys dangling from his fingers. He turns his attention to Nesta, offering her a wink. “Don’t worry. She’s not driving.”

Lucien slides his hand into Elain’s, leading all three of them through the party and back toward the elevators. Nesta keeps her head down as she follows behind her sister and brother-in-law, and she certainly doesn’t bother to look back. Besides, it’s not like anyone is watching her. She’s quite confident a certain hockey player has already found some other poor, unsuspecting girl to capture his attention.

And as they take the elevators all the way down to the parking garage and back to the car, she vows to herself that she’ll never think of Cassian Valdarez ever again.

—

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[careyakane]

New York City last summer

My label had booked me a room at the Willamsburg Hotel across the East River in Brooklyn. I had convinced Ella to take the bus down from ithaca and stay with me. I knew time was running out with us. Only fantasy’s strung together in a panic like this one could keep us alive. I had grown very skilled at pulling these elaborate tricks together. I had arrived to the hotel a day before her to a room that faced nothing quite as grand as the city view i had hoped for. After tampering with the rooms AC unit and creating a leak i called the front desk and was promptly moved to a room with a view that better suited this fantasy i was creating. A view that might buy me another week with her. The morning of her arrival i took the L train from Bedford ave and headed towards Penn station. Overhead the sky laughed at me and my elaborate schemes as the clouds began to smother the city and it started to rain. Ever since the trip Ella and I had taken the previous May when we visited Montreal, the rain had brought me great anxiety. It was something far from my control. Something that tended to set into motion these fights between Ella and i that would leave her robbed of any joy or love for me. She would have this look of disgust and resolve painted on her face. In those moments i could only hope we were somewhere far away from home. Somewhere where she relied on me in some way. Somewhere i had time to get her to look me in the eyes, time to make her laugh, time to guide her back to me. When these fights took place in a more familiar landscape like Albany street, she could escape. She could leave. Only at this stage of our relationship i never knew if i’d see her again once she left. As i exited the subway at Penn station and felt those first drops of rain, my heart sank. The next two days with her were as they always were, volatile. In some moments i had her back. It was relief, we were again just two kids. Light for a moment in a world that had grown so heavy together. None of this was supposed to happen. I was never supposed to break her in the way i did. I never meant to rob her of herself. So in the moments where i had her back i always made a point of studying every feeling, every detail of the moment. I hoped to store these memories away for the inevitable drought that was approaching. They would be my hidden cache similar to that of an addict who listlessly attempts to quit the substance knowing truthfully in the back of their mind that they will soon reach for the box tucked under the bed. Not to indulge we all claim, just to remember, just to be close one last time… After a dinner at some upscale Italian joint we returned to our room and watched the lighting cut lines through the Manhattan skyline. I held her tight that night like a child might hold onto his mother or father. Everything was always so simple once we turned in for the night. We could just be. I could be sure for a few hours she would be close to me, she would be mine. The sound of her breathing mixed with the rain into a beautiful song that i would sacrifice any possession just to hear again. I dreaded the morning and what would be an end to the fantasy i had created. Hours passed and the sun of course did arrive. Quietly we left for the bus station. As we grew closer this great fear seemed to find a home in Ella. She didn’t want to leave me. Since the day i had met her, Ella had always had this deep fear of losing a loved one in some terrible accident. She felt when they were with her she could keep them safe. I had always promised her that the world was looking out for me and she had no need to worry. Still i did find the extra long embraces at the door and the clinging onto me refusing to let me leave rather reassuring. I grew to feel so loved in those drawn out goodbyes. Overtime as our relationship deteriorated these moments grew more and more infrequent. Thus when that familiar look of tears started to well up in her eyes and she persisted that i come home with her then, i couldn’t help but to find relief and security in her anxiety. We were always flipped. Always in the opposite place of one another. Reluctantly she tore away from me and i watched her board the bus as its driver screamed at a couple who clearly spoke not a word of english. Seemingly he believed that if you yelled instructions louder, they would be magically interpreted. Walking to the side of the bus i watched Ella as she took a seat by the window. With her long black coat and blond hair perfectly curled, she looked like one of those strangers i would fall in love with as a kid. The ones you make eye contact with once and think about for six months. Only this time the stranger was holding me like a prized possession with her gaze. Millions of people swarmed around us in the hive of the city but in that gaze all of them fell away. I stood there a few minutes longer before wandering off into the streets. As i always did after these trips with Ella i felt exhausted from bending reality into a more gentle, hospitable place where she and i could have a better chance of caring for each other. But more so then that i felt the terrible sensation of contentment that always seemed to rest over me after feeling her love. It would soon pass and i never knew if months would go by before i felt it again. Nothing else in this life has ever given me that feeling. I search for it everywhere and yet she is the only dealer i know of who can provide it. And even then i dont think it’s in her control. How does one leave or lose the only thing that seems to gives a moments rest in this life that just wont slow down. How dose one leave or lose the only person that has tempted him to put everything down, even the pen. She was and i fear still is my only relief.

[xdacted]

Of Strangers and Rain Delays

Paring: Reader x Lance Stroll

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, meet-cute, pure fluff, first-meetings

Word Count: 2,383

Status: Complete

___________________

With another crack of thunder, Lance spares a glance at the wide window paneling of the Montreal airport. The skies are so dark it’s nearly black, thick clouds hanging over the runways, raindrops smacking against the pavement. The wind billows on, threatening to lift the tarmac that lines small carts zipping across the barely visible rows of lights, emitting a weak hue consumed by the onslaught of rain. 

He can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

Somehow, he knew this would happen. 

From the moment he’d received word that their private airfield was closed, to the moment that his team was ushered to a quiet, empty terminal. He knew that the rain would keep him stranded in Canada. He had no real reason to worry, when Aston Martin constructed his travel plans, they always did so with the weather in mind. 

He looked over at his P.R. manager. She sat across from him, her legs crossed over one another, staring down at a tablet. The glow of the screen cast a shadow over her concerned face, moving when her fingers worried at the skin of her lips. 

“Something the matter, Charlotte?”

She flicked her eyes up at him, “Nothing that isn’t already my job, Lance.”

He snorts. 

There were very few people who would have the backbone to speak to him so freely. It wasn’t that Lance thought of himself as above them, but the world seemed hellbent on making it so that was all anyone ever said. What they said to him couldn’t be worse than what he had said to himself. 

There was a reason why he pushed himself into the car, forcing his freshly broken wrists to work just as hard as they had before. Everyone was watching him, everyone was judging him. He could feel their eyes, burning right through him. It stung. 

But he was used to it. 

From the very moment he’d gotten his seat, it was all Lance has ever heard. 

Just a rich kid running with daddy’s money. That’s all he was to them. 

Lance looked back down at her phone, a lump suddenly in his throat, “Did they say how long we’re going to be here?”

“I’m not sure,” She looked over to her left, her assistant - Mary - hunched over a computer, “Did they say?”

“We won’t have the clear for hours,” Mary muttered, her heavy bangs falling into her eyes, “Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” He clicked his phone off, pushing it into his pocket. 

“Think I’ll go walk around,” He began to stand, catching the way that Charolette’s eyes widened, “ You can’t expect me to sit like this for hours.”

She let out a heavy sigh. 

“Lance -”

He knows. He knows what it is. 

“I won’t be far,” He tries to offer her a smile, “I’ll get you something to drink, you want something, right?”

She hesitated, she knew that he was aware. Regardless of what people liked to say, Lance wasn’t an idiot. 

“I do,” She puts her hands over her tablet, leaning back in her chair, “Diet Coke, please?”

“You got it.”

_________

He can’t shake the look on Charolette’s face. It circles his mind as he walks down the long stretch of the airport hallway. The walls are painted a soothing tan, with bright lights overhead. He reaches over to skim his fingers along the dips within the paint. 

It isn’t until he approaches the end of the hallway that he begins to hear chatter. It grows louder as he gets closer, and eventually, he’s standing right in the middle of the bustling terminals. He had no idea that they’d managed to hide him so well. 

It wasn’t like he was Charles or anything, he didn’t have fans clamoring over themselves just to see him, but there were certainly weirdos. It had been a while since he’d seen one, surprised that he would’ve been allowed to go this far without seeing one of Aston Martain’s staff rounding the corner with him. 

He shrugs it away. 

People are much too preoccupied with themselves to notice him. He can hear people shouting at flight attendants from across the wide space, bags thrown around the floor. So much rain wasn’t typical for this time of year, but Mother Nature was simply an unstoppable force. 

It isn’t before long that he spots a small cart of drinks with a bright orange umbrella in the air. He sidesteps people, offering small, ‘excuse me’s. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, not after last weekend. 

He wasn’t the most popular of drivers at the moment. 

Charlotte tried to hide his phone from him after the race, saying he needed to focus on recovery. Lance saw right through her and refused to leave without it. With a slight quiver in her lip, she pressed it into his palm. 

“Don’t look,” She said, her hand tight around his, “It won’t do you any good, Lance.”

“What haven’t I already heard, Charlotte,” He slipped his hand away from hers, stuffing his phone into his pocket. He would have plenty of time to look on the plane home. 

He did. 

Lance scrolled on Instagram and Twitter, trying to bite back the anger that rose from within him again. That video - that stupid video - of him with Henry. The camera shook as he just left the frame, only the sight of his green racing suit racing out. There was the rattle of the large toolbox beside him, and the movement of Henry’s body. 

Shit.

It was everywhere. 

And so were the comments. 

They called him spoiled, a monster, a cheater, a loser - everything under the sun was thrown at him, and he just kept scrolling. 

Reading word after word, until his eyes began to burn. Lance deserved worse than this. He was a professional, Henry was his trainer, and he shoved him. 

Like a dick. 

Lance sucks in a deep breath when he gets to the cart, surprised to see no line. He digs into his pocket, “I’ll take a Diet Coke and two waters, please.”

The cashier nods along, ringing him up with a polite smile. He reads Lance his total, opening a plastic bag to place the drinks in, “Thank you, have a good day, sir.”

“Thanks,” Lance mutters, reaching for the bag, “You too.”

As he turns to walk away, he notices a kid, no older than 9 or 10, running around with an Aston Martin sweatshirt on. The green is bright against the dull furnishings of the airport. Lance can’t fight the smile that makes its way on his face or the embarrassment that begins to bloom in his gut. 

The seats scattered around the terminals are packed, filled to the brim with stranded passengers. Pieces of luggage are scattered about the floor, little kids jump over them in an attempt to entertain themselves, people are engaged in rapid conversation, and some are slumped over the small armrests, asleep. 

It was nice, to fade into the background. 

He loved the fans, but Lance has always been a quiet person. His personal time is sacred, his downtime is sacred. He had his obligations on race weekends, signing hats and shirts blindly, but here, he was just a guy trying to get drinks.

He turns back towards the exit, the walkway seems to get more crowded. Lance lets out a sigh before he can stop himself. If he goes now, he’ll be discovered. 

Fuck. 

Looking around him, there are no spaces not taken by bodies. He tries to round a corner, keeping the bag tight to his chest. 

He spots an empty seat, well, one without a human in it. 

 It’s only a few steps away from him, he’s there before he can turn around. 

There’s a girl, headphones around her head, hoodie pulled over them. Her glasses reflect the screen of her laptop, positioned on her crossed legs. She’s invested in something, a hand cupping her chin. 

Lance debates walking away, but she notices him before he can. 

She looks up at him, pulling one of the slides of her headphones back, eyes widening slightly.  

“Yes?”

“Sorry,” He says, jostling the bag in his hand, “Is someone sitting there?”

She looks over, and immediately reaches to grab her backpack, “No, no, sorry.”

He waves a dismissive hand at her, “It’s ok.”

He settles beside her, sliding down in the seat. The noise of the space fills his head, he doesn’t have to think any thoughts of his own. Minutes tick by, the bag resting against his legs. His phone buzzes. 

Charlotte.

“Where did you go?”

“I just needed a break, sorry.”

The three bubbles dance across the bottom of his screen before disappearing and reappearing. 

“It’s ok. Come back when you’re ready, kid.”

He smiles. The lump in his throat back again. Lance knows that he’s made her job harder, he knows that as she scrolls on that tablet of hers she is trying to manage the damage he’s caused. She has been nothing but supportive, a guiding hand during interviews, and he does nothing but make her life harder. 

He sighs. 

Lance tries to forget himself. He takes in the room once more, eyes trailing over the streaks of rain, over the fluorescent lights, the people. He tries to forget the last race week. He looks over at the girl beside him, catching sight of her screen. 

It’s a movie, he’s unsure if he’s seen before. The two characters on screen stalk around each other, weapons at the ready, blood dripping down their temple. Looks intense. 

He begins to pull his gaze away when he catches sight of shimmering Formula One helmet stickers. The glossy sticker glitters in the light, dark forest green mimicking the design of his helmet, with ‘Stroll 18’ written beneath it in bolded letters. His isn't the only one there, Max and Fernando among the few, but it’s the only one he cares to see. 

When he looks back at her, she already staring at him. 

There’s clear embarrassment across her face, a dark blush across her cheeks. 

She pulls her headphones off as she begins to speak, “I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable -”

“It’s okay,” He stops her before she can continue, a smirk pulling at his features, “You didn’t know I was going to be here.”

A beat of silence passes before he adds, “Or did you?”

She gapes at him, “Of course not! That’s so weird. Don’t even joke like that.”

“Sorry,” He mutters, trying to hide his smile with his hand. 

“No, you’re not,” She lets out a small giggle, and Lance can’t help but want to hear it again. 

With her hood pulled down, he can see her more clearly. She’s beautiful. 

The lines of her face, the curve of her lips, the slope of her nose. Even with her face glowing, her smile is all he can see.

“You’re right,” He shrugs, tucking his arms into his sides, “I’m not.”

“That’s rude,” She’s quick to answer back, movie paused. 

“I’ve been told I’m rude,” The words slip from him. 

The look on her face changes, the slight drop of her lips. She just stares at him, but it doesn’t burn. 

“Maybe you are,” She says finally, looking down at the ground before back up to him, “Doesn’t mean you’re a bad guy.”

Her words pierce him. 

The lump in his throat is thicker than before, he nearly feels like he’s choking on it. It means more than she could ever know, a stranger’s opinion. He doesn’t even know her name. He wonders for a second if she can hear his heart pounding, ears burning. 

“Thanks,” He forces out.

“‘Course,” She smiles. 

It feels like the sun on Lance’s skin.  

“Are - Are you a fan?” He tries to change the subject.

“Yeah,” She mutters pulling her laptop to her chest, “Sorry about the - the stickers…”

“It’s ok,” He laughs, trying to rub away the tightness in his chest, “It’s nice to meet a fan.”

She smiles, picking at the sleeves of her sweater, “Well, I never thought I’d be able to meet any driver.”

“Why’s that?”

She looks at him and rolls her eyes, “Are you kidding? The cost of a grand prix is more than I make in a month.”

She fixes herself on the seat, tucking her leg around the chair, “Can’t afford it.”

He hums. 

There’s a certain guilt that builds up within him. There was always that saying, ‘Cash is King.’ He has known so many talented drivers forced to leave the sport because it demanded more than they had. The prices got far too high and the rewards were far too little. He knows more than most give him credit for that he’s privileged, his father’s money has allowed him to fail more than some ever get the chance to. 

“So then,” he continues, “Where are you headed to?”

“Mr. Stroll,” She stares up at him through her glasses, “Do you know that you’re not supposed to share that information with strangers?”

The laugh that is pulled from him is far louder than he means for it to be. It draws the annoyed glances of a few people around them, but it makes him double over. She laughs too, failing to smother it with her hand. 

It isn’t funny, but it’s perfect. 

“So you get to know everything about me, but I know nothing about you?”

“You’re famous,” She mutters, pressing a hand to her chest, “I’m just a fan.”

Lance shrugs. He didn’t want her to be just a fan, but maybe that’s just the rain talking.

“Still. I think it’s only fair,” She opens her mouth but Lance adds, “And anyway, I’m just a guy.”

Her mouth clicks shut. She stares at him again for a second, that same look returning to her eyes. It’s almost as if she can see right through him, but he doesn't mind. 

“Then,” She puts her hand out, “How about this…”

She introduces herself, telling him her name before saying, “It’s nice to meet you, stranger.”

Lance looks down at her waiting hand. Her smile is dazzling. It’s bright against the dark murkiness of the rain, it balances him. 

Lance breathes out. 

“I’m Lance, nice to meet you too, stranger.”

_________________________

A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3

I also feel the need to remind some people that these are FICTITIOUS pls remember that

[umgeorge]

pole-sitter george russell is interviewed during the post-qualifying press conference, canada - june 8, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "A very warm welcome to the top three qualifiers for the FIA Formula 1 Canadian Grand Prix. In third place, Lando Norris; in second place, Max Verstappen; and taking the second pole position of his Formula 1 career and his first here in Montreal, the pole-sitter, George Russell. George, many congratulations. What a session; literally nothing to separate you and Max in the end. Start by giving us your reaction to what's just happened." George: "Yeah, such a buzz. It's been a while since we've experienced this feeling, and so much hard work going on behind the scenes back in Brackley, at Brixworth, and it's been a little while to be able to sort of get back into the fight. And we've almost felt like all of that hard work hasn't been paying off, but I think these last two race weekends has really shown that, and, as I said, we've been so fast all weekend. Q3 was probably our worst session of the three, and bodes well for tomorrow." Interviewer: "As you say, it has been a while. It's been nearly two years since you took that pole in Hungary. Were you getting impatient for it to happen again?" George: "To be honest this weekend's been really challenging to know because of the conditions yesterday. You've had rain around all weekend, and then this morning Lewis was absolutely flying and he was well ahead of me, and had to look a lot into his data, try and understand what he was doing differently, and [laughs] to be honest that helped me a huge amount ahead of this qualifying. And just so glad that we could pull it off, because I feel like we really deserve it for all of this hard work we've been putting in, and the car's been feeling awesome this weekend." Interviewer: "Well, look, where is the car better this wekeend? Tell us about it." George: "Well, it always feels better when your name's towards the top of the timesheets, to be honest, but it's just turning really nicely through the corners. I think we stuggled a lot with understeer before. Last year we had a lot of oversteer, and we've sort of been just trying to find the halfway house between what we had last year and what we had this year, and it feels like we're sort of dialing in that sweet spot right now. So feels like something we've been saying for a long time, in all honesty, but it's just really a sense of relief to actually see it translate into a pole position." Interviewer: "And tell us about the conditions. We saw you have a big moment, I think it was at turn four in Q2. How difficult was it out there?" George: "Yeah, it was really challenging, to be honest. All weekend, every single session and every lap has been changing. The sun comes out, the track temperature warms up, then the clouds come in, it's spitting, and it's just really, really difficult to find that sweet spot. And my lap on the used tire was really, really strong in Q3 and I was expecting to find about three or four-tenths for the second lap on the new tire, and we actually just… It didn't click, but it was fortunate enough the first lap was good enough for pole." Interviewer: "So the race tomorrow, we've had very little dry running. What are your predictions?" George: "I think it's gonna be a tough race for everybody, to be honest. Graining seems to be an issue, and this new track surface, nobody really knows how it's going to pan out. But we've got to go for victory, where the car is genuinely really, really fast at the moment. But it's gonna be a long race, I think. As soon as you fall off that cliff of the tires tomorrow it's gonna be really difficult to recover, so yeah, it could be a bit of a strategic game. Maybe not as extreme as we saw in Monaco last week, but maybe something similar." Interviewer: "Alright. Very well done. Best of luck."

[time jump] Journalist: "Jake Boxall-Legge, Autosport. Question for George, please. You mentioned that you didn't quite get it hooked up on the second lap, and Lewis didn't improve, either. Was it just the nature of the conditions, with the weather changing, or did you just get the most out of it on the first one?" George: "Yeah, the conditions were changing. I think we were one of the last to do our laps-I don't know when Max did his lap-but my lap in Q2 was really, really strong. My first lap in Q3 was really good; only I think two-tenths off what I did in Q2 on the old tire. So I was expecting to do probably three- or four-tenths ahead, like it's been all weekend, and the tires just didn't quite feel right, so it shows how sensitive everything was. And that was probably the first time that it didn't quite go our way, but, as I said, it goes to show how strong our pace has been this weekend. Q1, we didn't need to use two sets of tires. That was a first. Didn't really need to use two sets in Q2, either. It's sort of come from nowhere, but maybe not a surprise with the upgrades we've been bringing."

[time jump] Journalist: "The last couple of years has been difficult for Mercedes to fight for poles or for podiums. Did you sense any difference during this weekend, that this pole position you would be able to fight for?" George: "A hundred percent. I think every lap we've done this weekend, the car's been feeling good, we've always been at the upper end of the timesheets, and talking yesterday why do we think we were so competitive on FP1, FP2, and obviously in FP3 really fast as well. So we need to see in the next races if that continues, but obviously last week in Monaco we were a tenth from the front row, here on pole, and this is the first two races we've had with the upgrade, so yeah, time will tell. We don't want to get carried away with ourself, but yeah, it's looking good so far." Interviewer: "George, on this topic, Scott Mitchell-Malm from The Race has just asked this question: Talking about the upgrades, previous supposed breakthroughs haven't been sustainable for Mercedes, but does this feel rooted in something more real, is his question." George: "Yeah, one-hundred percent. I think, going back to what Lando was talking about, when you have a number of years with the same regulations, you sort of hone in on that sweet spot. And we've sort of been zig-zagging over these past couple of years, and, as we've probably entered the last six months those zig-zags have sort of narrowed and we've sort of really been able to fine-tune what it is we want from the car, and I think it just goes to show that small changes can actually bring big improvements of performance. We saw it with McLaren. I think ourselves have made a big jump, as well, especially in terms of the pecking order. So, as I said, let's see if this performance is sustainable, but right now I don't see any reason why not, and we think we've got more to come."

[elisysd]

9. How wonderful life is while you're in the world

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Your Song - Elton John

Since he had received your text Charles was excited. He had not stopped pacing his room, trying to come up with ideas to show you that he could be an amazing boyfriend, that you would trust him. He was excited and the little break between Barcelona and Montreal was the occasion to spend time with you. So, not saying a word to you, he rented a place in Paris for the week, hoping to spend time with you. He had a plan and he couldn’t wait to put it into action.

I’ll be in Paris for a few days starting from tomorrow. I was hoping to see you.

Sure, I would love that.

Maybe you can give me your work schedule? It could be easier to plan things.

He smiled when you gave it. You didn’t know what he had in mind, and trusting home with your work schedule so naively was cute. He arrived in Paris late at night, under the rain which made him instantly regretting the sun of Monaco. But you were worth every drop of rain, he knew it. That night he had a hard time finding sleep.

Your day had been eclectic, spent in the studio recording your voice over for the Alpine documentary and working on the next episodes which would be filmed in the upcoming weeks. You were dreaming of going back home, a nice bubble bath and a take away eaten in front of a trashy reality show.

You packed your bag, said goodbyes to your colleagues who were still there and made your way out. You were not excited at the idea of taking the subway. It was always crowded at this time of the day. You badged your way out, wished a good evening to the lady at the reception desk and almost had a heart attack when you noticed Charles, leaning against a rented car, all dressed up in a black suit and with a huge bouquet of red roses in his hand. As you walked to him, you couldn’t help but smile and blush when he handed you the flowers.

“Thank you. What are they for?” you asked as he opened the door for you.

“Because I wanted to. Get used to it, that’s something that will happen a lot when you finally give us a chance.” he winked.

“How was your meeting?”

“Well… I might have lied to you. I don’t have any meetings. I just didn’t want to scare you off by telling you that I was coming here only for you.”

“You didn’t have to, you know. I mean, I appreciate it, truly. But I don’t want to take away from you time that you could use to train.”

“Don’t worry about that.” he smiled, putting a hand on your knee and squeezing it.

In front of your building, you suddenly didn’t want to leave.

“Do you want to come inside for a drink?” you asked.

“Not today, I have a call with my brother about something work related, and I’m not lying this time, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” when he leaned in and kissed your cheek, you thought you were about to faint.

You couldn’t focus the next day at work. You couldn’t help but think about Charles and what he had planned. You didn’t know what to expect but frankly, you didn’t care. You were trusting him enough to let yourself go with the flow. He wouldn’t hurt you, he cared about you enough to go out of his way for you. It felt nice. You were distracted the whole day, something unusual to you to the point Marion didn’t hesitate to tease you about it.

“Your head is in the clouds, missy, today. Who is to blame? A good lover?”

You blushed violently, stumbled on your words and immediately apologized, pretending you had a call to take, making Marion laugh. You avoided everyone the whole day, focusing on your tasks and hoping no one would bother you. And finally when you got out, you found Charles in the exact same position as the previous day. Instead, this time, it was a box of chocolate in his hands and not a bouquet of flowers. He drove you again again, and when you asked him if today he wanted to come inside, he refused once again.

“Let me be a gentleman, okay? And a true one doesn’t get inside the flat of the girl he fancies before the first date.”

“And when should I expect this first date?”

“Tomorrow.” he smiled.

It couldn’t come fast enough. You met him the next day, the same way as before but this time it was not a box of chocolate or flowers that were waiting for you. It was a teddy representing a pressing horse and you laughed at the sight. It was so cheesy that it was starting to get cute and you felt bad to not be able to do even half as much as he was doing. He asked you all about your day which you were happy to tell him with impressive details and before you were aware of it, you were at the restaurant. He helped you get out of your coat and you swore he checked you out for a moment and all of a sudden; you were very glad to have chosen your favorite little black dress. He was also elegantly and simply dressed in a white shirt and black jeans. 

He led you in a quiet area where no one would bother you and when finally silence settled, you started to feel uncomfortable. You didn’t know what to say an you were glad when he took the lead.

“So, you’ve never told me where you were from.”

“I’m from the south east of France.” you replied checking the drink menu.

“Really? Near Monaco?”

“God no. No offense, it’s a pretty city. I’m from Avignon. It’s what? Three hours away?”

“If you respect the speed, I guess.” he laughed as you threw a napkin to his face. “How was it, growing up there?”

“Very nice. It’s a pretty city, a bit medieval and I was lucky to be able to grow up in a very cultural environment. We have a big festival, you know. I used to work there when I was younger. And by younger I mean when I was like… thirteen? I think?”

“Is that even legal?”

“Absolutely not! But most of the people coming during summer are people from Paris who don’t know the city that much so they are ready to pay locals big money to promote their shows. Some summer I was making maybe two thousands euros which is insane when you think about it.”

“What were your parents saying?”

“They didn’t know! What did you want me to tell them? They would have stopped me from going and they had other things on their plate with Luc.” your smile disappeared.

“So you have good memories from that time.”

“I love Avignon. I miss it sometimes but my parents made me hate the idea of coming back. They tarnished the city for me.I have a strained relationship with them. My mom especially. My dad is more passive than her.”

“Do you mind if I ask what happened? If  I overstep…”

“You don't. I mean, it’s not a big secret or whatever. My mom thinks I’m responsible for Luc's death, as twisted as it sounds. She thinks that if I had not introduced him to F1, he would still be there. It’s stupid I know. And she hates me for leaving for New York when his health started to worsen. I should have said, he was more important than any other stupid dreams I was chasing.”

“And how did you get into F1 in the first place?” Charles asked, curious.

“From my grandad. He was a huge fan. He died a few years ago when I was about to start college. See, this is what I mean when I say that this job is important to me. I do it for me, but also for the people I love and lost along the way.” you explained, a sad look on your face.

“I understand. More than what you can believe.” he whispered, taking your hand in his.

He didn’t need to say more, you knew exactly what he was referring to.

“You’re talking about your dad and Jules.” he nodded and you rushed to add. “I feel bad to know about that but at the same time it’s part of my job and…”

“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to act surprised. But yeah, I know what it is like to put so much pressure on yourself in order to make people proud. I know they are proud of me, from where they are. But no matter how much I know it…”

“You can’t help it. If you’re not proud enough of yourself you feel like you’re failing them.” you finished.

“Exactly. If I fail, it means failing them too.”

You moved to lighter topics until it was late in the night and you were starting to yawn. Charles paid the bills and soon you made your way to your residence building. Once there, Charles stopped the engine and a comfortable silence fell in the car. You leaned back against the seat as he looked at you, the reflection of the moon shining in his eyes. You looked at him with the same intensity and he slowly proceeded to close the space between both of your bodies, giving you enough time to back off if you wanted to.

“Charles…” you breathed, thinking about everything that could go wrong.

“Don’t… close your eyes and imagine a world away from responsibilities and complications, a world where it’s only you and I. How does it feel?”

“Perfect.” you admitted.

“Then, hold onto that feeling.”

Opening your eyes you saw him closer than ever. So close that you could see the different shades of green and blue in his eyes. Your gaze fell on his parted lips and when you looked up again, you slightly nodded, giving him the final sign he needed before capturing your lips with his. You didn’t think twice, putting a hand behind his neck as your other one moved to his cheek, trying to get him even closer to you. You felt his weight on you as he pressed you against the door of the car. It was uncomfortable but you didn’t care. all you could  feel was him and you didn’t want it to stop. Never.  When he finally broke the kiss, you felt cold all of the sudden, your body searching for the heat he had provided in such a short while.

“What does it mean now?” you asked

“Whatever you want it to mean.”

“I want that. I want what's going on between us, but can we take it slow?”

“Of course, your pace is mine.”

“And… I want to keep it between us. No one can find out.”

Author's note: A little fluffy chapter... everything seems to progress really well between them. A little too well maybe. What do you think? 👀

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody @herondalism @roseamongthorns13 @aundercover @snowflakesfluff @fictional-l0v3r @queensassybitchsworld @jehun

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[hughessdemon]

F1 x HOCKEY || did y’all see that ? . Y/N driver x Jack Hughes au

A/N : I might give Y/N her name soon so if y’all have recommendations send them now !!

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BREAKIG NEWS !!! y/n ex Jack Hughes center and alternate captain of the NJ devils hockey team spotted at the paddocks of Mclaren along with his two best friends Anaheim Duck , Trevor Zegras and Montreal Canadian , Cole Caufield . Jack in town to support Y/N today or here to watch the game for fun ?

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- when I heard Jack was at the paddocks of Mclaren with Z and C , my mind went blank as I walking the longer way to avoid the media and Mclaren pad . Why is he here was going wild in my head , he never showed interest in Motorsports really none of them did since you were kids - it seemed to bug but you noticed he got his tooth fixed , chuckling at the idea of him being there , you needed to put on your professional behavior and and get ready for qualifying today especially… against Mad Max even though he’s gonna get to p1 anyways .

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Location : MONTREAL,CANADA

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tagged : carlossainz , lewishamilton , charlesleclerc , maxverstappen

yourusername : qualitative analysis today …. I hope I beat the man on the floor today 😗🧎🏽‍♀️

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Lewishamilton : 😂😂 smooth operator

jarchives: omg isn’t Jack there to support her ? Are they back together omg ???

scuderiaferrari: that’s our girll 🚨🫶🏽

Zegrasxebras: 100% avoiding Lando today since her ex is at the paddocks today 💀💀

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“Hey you Ferrari girl !!” You heard Gasly calling you out as he was entering the Ferrari garage , giving you a head pat as you went in to give Kika a big hug welcoming her to the Ferrari pads ~ you might’ve been the youngest being born in 02 but they always treated you well and protected from the horrendous things on media days , enemies on tracks but family off track is a way you can describe it .

they’re always there especially Charles and Carlos and Pierre , you were most close to them you saw them as your brothers in cars. Your brothers were in NHL they had no idea what it was like being in Motorsport especially one that’s more dominated by men …. They never really cared about your passion growing up so you weren’t close to them at all . Quinn was friends with your older brother Bryan and Luke was your best friend in middle school but ever since you moved out to Miami for the tracks and traveling you got to barely speak to him , seeing him through his social media was a way . Not to mention you dated Jack from 8th grade up to 11th grade then again from 2020-2021 as you both reconnected… you broke up due to him not actually caring for you and schedules as you were never off season for summer like him . But to see him become the Center and Captain for his team suprised you despite his poor attitude and lack of understanding people .

— the qualification was postponed for a bit due to the heavy rain, they were preparing to change tires for the wet tires . Changing gears as well , as you were about to walk away to your car, you saw Jack standing up on the paddock looking down at your number 43 - his half number …. you carried that numbers as it was both good luck to you guys - getting situated in the car wasn’t hard like the first few times during winter test when the car was so bad , it was unexplainable painful to ride , Jack running through your mind still , he never was at your games like you were - you had show off today for once .

1.2.3 red lights off and go !!!

you were right behind max , you had no issues with max but with Hamilton trying to overtake you was pushing you to the point , you pass overtook max 💀- it just qualification you didn’t budge because you probably wouldn’t win against max after that 😗-

“Congratulations lil red !!” Riccardo patting up your back , smiling at you making it less terrifying to face Max right now , you might be not be racing him this year, but you were happy for him and his mental state he seemed much better . Talking a bit to Daniel you were being called back to the pads for interviews along with Charles strutting behind you - you saw Lance with Z and the hockey boys , it all made sense ofc they were friends with Lance … Lance mf stroll , rolling your eyes as Max greets you with a ball coming straight at you . Definitely a way to seek revenge max …. bet , so you chased him into the pads ..

few hours later …..

- you were back at the hotel with Lewis , yes Lewis , you heard me right . We both had an on and off relationship for the past two years … it’s complicated especially with our age gap but end of the day we both know we have each other and understandingly feel calm in the presence of each other’s arms . Tommorow is the big day , not wanting to do anything tonight more , you both ended up falling asleep early , with the bogus of being woken up at 6 am the next morning. ———-

authors note : if you want more like this please comment I literally need to know your opinions!!

[fractalkiss]

for the mini stories, 7

prompt list

for prompt #7 "uncanny", explicit, weekend in spa 2023.

Lance expects Fernando to be fully asleep by the time he comes around to his suite. If it was any other race or sprint weekend, Lance would be eager to end the day himself.

He's already turned down the lights to one. But Fernando cracks open his eyes before Lance gets on the bed, watches blankly as Lance climbs in beside him. It should be unnerving. Maybe it would have been if this had been the beginning of the season, if he hadn't been doing this for as long.

Fernando reaches out and Lance falls forward into it right away, slides himself over to feel the warmth of him. Lance feels Fernando's knuckles drifting up over his spine through his t-shirt, the slow stroke of his fingers like he's petting something; Lance pushes his face into his neck, and Fernando turns, tells him, "You'd want to sleep," into his cheek.

"Not yet," Lance says, and Fernando's hand is hot around the back of his neck, fingers through his hair, encouraging. He shuts his eyes in the feeling of it, thinks about Fernando full and demanding in his mouth, thinks about riding his cock. His dick twitches, and he presses himself into Fernando's leg already. "Dad says you're welcome to ours in Montreal anytime. The vacation house," he says.

"Did he?" Fernando murmurs, amused, as if he hasn't already been there, or already told this years ago by Dad himself.

"If you wanted to. Like, a weekend during the summer break," Lance huffs.

"What would we do?"

"Finally fucking relax. Fuck and relax," Lance adds with a snicker and Fernando's nails scrape the base of his head, the back of his ears. He's quiet, and Lance wets his lips, trying to think. Fernando knows he's hard, can feel Lance pressed up his side. He stretches his fingers over Fernando's stomach, touching Fernando's arm resting there, where he can't see the tattoo at the moment. "Tell me about Asturias."

Fernando's fingers still for a second. "Lots of mountains. Green, beautiful forests. It would be colder there now, not much rain."

He'd taken those photos in Montreal. Lance sighs when Fernando's shifts his leg, slots it between Lance's thighs, his hand pushing down Lance's spine now. "Your place has a view?"

"Somewhat yeah. You will have to bike out to get the best views. Maybe not what you would do yet, eh?"

There's no tease or jeer in his voice but Lance frowns, mutters, "Hey, shut up, I—" I want to be good to you, he thinks.

"Plenty of places to stay indoors and relax, also," Fernando continues. He shifts on to his side to face Lance, and Lance palms at him, wants to push his hand in his shorts, but Fernando beats Lance to it, tugging down Lance's pants himself to hold him, thumb slipping over the moist head of his cock. "Lots of gardens, where you can eat outside. The sun is less hot there, I always like it better outside."

"Sunbathing?" Lance breathes, thrusting a little into Fernando's hand, fucking into it. "You could do that anytime."

"No," Fernando says, and pulls away to touch two fingers to Lance's mouth; Lance's jaw falls open automatically, licks at the rough pads of his fingers. "You will see the garden, even from indoors, and a—" he says a word in Spanish, mutters a little off-track when Lance moans around his fingers. "Balcony," he says in English, "A room with a balcony, open, outside. We do not keep doors closed in summer, usually—we can do exactly this, there," Fernando says, his voice low and hoarse, exhausted, fingers sliding in and out of Lance's mouth nonetheless, the wet noise of the movement shooting down to Lance's dick, saliva gathering in his mouth faster than anything so he's drooling soon. Grinding into Fernando's steady palm too, like a dog.

Lance had been hoping to blow him, feel him full to the back of his throat until he can't no more, taking it until his voice is wrecked for the media pen tomorrow, but Fernando isn't done talking yet.

"You will like it," Fernando says. "The weather will be perfect. And you will look good, for me, no one will see when I fuck you." Lance whimpers around his fingers, the suction sound loud and desperate when Fernando takes his hand away, the wetness on his chin cool suddenly with the absence of contact; Fernando gets his pants off, and Lance's knees fall open—"Like that, that's right. That's what you will do. No one will see how much you like what I do to you. Such a shame, you'll look so—" Fernando sighs, his voice, strangled, pained. Sounding tight and in sync with how Lance feels when Fernando works him open with a finger, palm pressed over his balls, fucking with his hand, Lance moving to it until he's coming in gentle waves, unexpected, jerking into Fernando's side. Fernando kisses him towards the end of it, other hand holding Lance's jaw tight to keep him there, anchor him, keep him together.

"Fuck," Lance laughs, shakily. He sits up to take off his shirt, still breathless. Fernando is silent now, watching him, eyes impossibly dark, and still, the lines on his face deepened with his expression; wondering, lost, almost, strangely. Lance thinks stupidly, dazed, come home with me, anywhere.

He leans back down to kiss Fernando on the mouth. His hand goes to Fernando's shorts, pushes inside it.

[music-tourney]

The first round polls

Doll Parts by Hole - Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham

Californication by Red Hot Chili Peppers - Sober by TOOL

Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill - No Rain by Blind Melon

No Scrubs by TLC - She don't use Jelly by Flaming Lips

Semi Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind - California Living by Tupac

Mr. Jones by Counting Crows - Believe By Cher

Gangsta's Paradise - Steal My Sunshine By Len

Ironic by Alanis Morrisette - Mo Money, Mo Problems by Notorious BIG

Say My Name by Destiny's Child - Genie in a Bottle By Christina Aguilera

Around the World by Daft Punk - Breakfast at Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something

Intergalactic By the Beastie Boys - Creep by Radiohead

One Week by Barenaked Ladies - Smooth By Santana Ft. Rob Thomas

Spice up your life by Spice Girls - I want it that way by the Backstreet Boys

pretty fly (for a white guy) by the offspring - Vogue by Madonna

Don't Let Go (Love) by En Vogue - Jump Around by House of Pain

What is Love By haddaway - The Distance by CAKE

Good Riddance (Time of your Life) by Green Day - Dragula by Rob Zombie

Closing Time by Semisonic - Every You, Every Me by Placebo

Bitch by Meredith Brooks - The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) by Missy Elliot

Tim I wish you were born a girl by of Montreal - Tubthumping by Chumbawamba

Voodoo by Godsmack - Possum Kingdom by Toadies

Losing my Religion by REM - Bullet with Butterfly Wings by Smashing Pumpkins

Fem in a Black Leather Jacket by Pansy Division - Buddy Holly by Weezer

Mambo No. 5 by Lou Bega - Livin La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

Iris by Goo Goo Dolls - Just a Girl by No Doubt

Barbie Girl by Aqua - Cannonball by the Breeders

Only Happy When it Rains by Garbage - Criminal by Fiona Apple

The Sign by Ace of Base - Laid by James

Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman - No Diggity by Blackstreet

Good Day by Ice Cube - Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer

Where is my mind by the Pixies - Friday I'm in Love by The Cure

I will Always Love you by Whitney Houston - Peaches by Presidents of the United States

My Name is by Eminem - All Star by Smash Mouth

My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion - Closer by Nine Inch Nails

Follow you down by Gin Blossom - You Get What You Give by New Radicals

Two Princes by Spin Doctor - Mm Bop by Hansen

Loser by Beck - … Baby One More Time by Britney Spears

Freedom by George Michael - Girls and Boys by Blur

Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger - What's Up by 4 non blondes

What's my Age Again by Blink-182 - Sunny Came Home by Shawn Colvin

Gin and Juice by Snoop Dogg - Bittersweet Symphony by the Verve

Lithium by Nirvana - Zombie by Cranberries

Common People by Pulp - Pepper by Butthole Surfers

Gold Soundz by Pavement - Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants

Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine - Nothing Compares to You by Sinead o Connor

Check the Rhime by A Tribe Called Quest - November Rain by Guns n Roses

baby got back by sir mix-a-lot - Wonderwall by Oasis

Love Fool by The Cardigans - whatta man by salt n peppa