#Job Opening in Abu Dhabi

[spreejobs]

Registered Nurse - LTCU Job Vacancies in Sharjah, United Arab Emirates

Registered Nurse – LTCU Job Vacancies in Sharjah, United Arab Emirates Trending Job Description •   Uphold the reputation of the nursing profession at all times•   Act as a positive role model for all nursing and support staff•   Must have insight of own behavior on others.•   Be responsible for the assessment, planning, implementation, and evaluation of programs of care under the indirect…

[scribblesoul-20]

Instructor of Political Science, Open Rank

Job title: Instructor of Political Science, Open Rank Company: New York University Abu Dhabi Job description: is looking to hire an instructor in the field of political science to provide support to faculty with grading and administrative duties for undergraduate courses in political science, and elsewhere in the division of social sciences. The instructor may also be asked to lead small-group…

[disneyprincemuke]

she's the man * vr dts special

what does netflix have to say about the first and only woman to make it on the grid in almost 2 decades?

warnings: danica patrick jumpscares

notes: hi im procrastinating my assignment that's due tomorrow so i'm making this for you guys <3 and this is so...? poorly written is what i'm trying to say bye

[will buxton] there is a new team on the grid: andretti's appeal to be the 11th team on the grid was approved early last year. there was a lot of talk about who they could hire in their driver lineup. nobody expected sebastian vettel, who literally just retired from being an f1 driver, to be stepping into the shoes of a race engineer. and to take a chance on a rookie driver...

what did you want me to say? she looks down at the clapperboard that's been handed over to her, lifting it up and down as she tries to ease her nervousness. [producer] introduce yourself first and we'll take it step by step from here. she nods and presses her lips together with a smile. hi. i'm driving for andretti racing for the 2023 season and i am the first female on the grid in almost 20 years.

[sebastian vettel] i... you know, i realised i have nothing to do if i don't race. so i took up the job with one exception – they allow a rookie into the team.

-> bahrain, 2023

she smiles, tapping her card onto the reader. she just waves at the crew ahead of her, cameras held up and lenses pointed directly at her as she walks alongside logan and oscar.

i'm a little nervous, of course – i didn't think i'd get this far. in all honestly, i thought f2 was the furthest i'd get when it came to racing. but i'm lucky. sebastian is taking a big gamble putting me in an f1 car this year.

[danica patrick] a woman in f1? i don't expect that will go well overall. does she even have the aggressiveness to be driving alongside these men who, for them, things like these come naturally.

-> abu dhabi, 2022

"well, would you look at that? the sole woman on the grid has made it to the podium. and that would," there's a pause from crofty, taking a deep breath as a smile spreads his lips, "award her as a runner-up in the drivers' championship slightly ahead of liam lawson. she's driven amazing all year round and it's just a wonder if she will ever make it further than formula 2 if she can produce these results at this level of racing."

[susie wolff] she's amazing behind the wheel. toto and i have watched a couple of her races over the years. it's an experience to have her around every weekend beside big household names like lewis hamilton and max verstappen. if her team can give her a good enough car to produce massive results, or she outperforms everyone's expectations this year, it could be very telling for the sport. and it sure opens a lot of opportunities for new generations of racers to come.

[sebastian vettel] well, she produces the results you'd want in a race car driver. i'd like to change the course of things around here, so there was no question that i'd vouch for her to get in a car with the best of the best. she's been in an f1 car before – with haas a while ago – so there's really not much worry about how she'll do this year. she just needs a good car to start.

[claire williams] nothing wrong with taking a chance on a rookie. but as a new team in the sport, you'd want to prove to everyone that you fought rightfully so for your spot as a new addition to the pitlane.

-> bahrain, 2023

she stands at the back of the garage. the camera zooms into the girl toying with the neckline of her fireproofs. she presses her lips together as sebastian talks to her. "so you're starting p18 tomorrow."

"oh." she looks down at the ground and purses her lips together. "well i told you: the car still felt a little difficult in the braking zones earlier. that was the best i could do without burying myself into a barrier."

"yeah, of course. that just means you'll have to work a little extra tomorrow during the race," sebastian grins. he places his hand on her shoulder to shake her gently. "you did your best today. don't even worry about it. you'll come back stronger tomorrow."

"of course. i didn't get this far just to fumble the bag at my first race."

[danica patrick] qualifying p18 as a rookie and as the sole woman in the sport... it's not a good look for either herself or the people who decided to take a chance on her.

"and that's the checkered flag. p11," sebastian says into her ears.

she sighs as she slows the car down for a cool-down lap. she lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. "i could have pushed a little more to get better results. i'm sorry."

"ah, you finished ahead of a lot of people and you climbed 7 places on the track. it's a good first race."

[will buxton] right now, it seems that not everyone is fond of having a woman on the grid. that's very prominent in the fan side of things. but a lot of people are forgetting that she raced with some of the big names that people know today and was on par with them in the results growing up.

[oscar piastri] well, we go way back. you know, growing up karting together and constantly being in competition with one another, i think really encouraged her to stay in the sport. when we moved up to f3 from formula renault, she kinda got left behind to stay. so when i was poached by prema to race into f2, i suggested that they give her a chance.

well, i was up there fighting with oscar and logan, and occasionally liam, for good results during karting races and eventually in formula renault. the only disadvantage i had compared to them was that i'm a girl. you know, growing up, i would constantly be told that i wouldn't get very far cause this is a boy's sport. that really does discourage you from wanting and thinking that i'd get into official leagues, but i owe it to my best friends for pushing me to dream bigger and retain the passion i had for racing.

[logan sargeant] i mean... she kinda did hand me my ass every single time we were out on the track. if that doesn't tell people that she's a good racer, i'm unsure what will.

[zak brown] it was, truthfully, down to her and oscar for who should come in and drive for mclaren. but we weren't sure if the risks to bring her in would be worth it. so we went with the safer option.

[james vowles] i know a couple different teams – i'm definitely not namedropping – who were eyeing her for her performance last year. prema did a very good job marketing her as their driver as well so there's an extra factor. she's lovely.

-> australia, 2023

"oh, andretti's rookie passes the flag ahead of the alpha tauri and puts her in the points!" there's cheering in the grandstands, and nobody can believe their eyes at the results of the purple race car. "you see it here first – she is the first woman, in decades, to score points to formula 1"

"that's p9! there's your first points in formula 1!"

"oh? oh my fucking god! i did it!"

scoring your first points as a formula 1 driver... it's a very big feat as a rookie. but it means even more when you're in my position.

she runs to where sebastian stands, helmet in her hands. she screams as her team erupts in cheers at the sight of her sprinting towards them and she pumps her fists into the air.

"i did it!" she screams, immediately surrounded by the personnel clad in the bright andretti purple. "i scored my first points!"

she's seen in the middle of their makeshift circle, thrown around by her team as they bask in their first achievement in the sport and of the year. she's seen with tears running down her cheeks briefly before sebastian pulls her in for a very tight hug.

"i told you everything will be fine. you just had to be patient, kid."

[sebastian vettel] scoring points alone is already a step in the right direction. now we just need to focus on being consistent race after race.

-> azerbaijan, 2023

"there's a yellow flag here in lap 40. we're waiting to hear who it was caused by," the camera pans to the car head first into the barriers at a turn, "and it seems to be an andretti."

when you crash front first out of a turn, it's like the rudest jumpscare a person could have. it's nothing to do with the car – it was straight up a driver error.

[sebastian vettel] no driver wants to crash their car during a race and then admit to the whole world that it was their fault. especially when you're in her position, you know? the statement she released and choosing to be honest about it being a driver error – it was her decision to handle it that way. personally... he giggles with a smile. i wouldn't have done that.

[will buxton] she only seems to be getting better and better every single weekend.

-> monaco, 2023

"that's another finish in the points, kid. good race. that's p5 for you."

"thank you. the car felt great this weekend."

-> singapore, 2023

"here we have the andretti rookie in her engineer and mentor's arms, on a very historical evening. she has just scored her first podium this weekend at the singapore grand prix."

she jumps as she's in sebastian's arms, her face buried in his chest. she is seen pulling away slightly from him and he grabs her face, "amazing– you were amazing, kid! congratulations!"

tears, again, roll down her cheeks as she nods at his statement. her chest heaves as she cries. "thank you. oh, my goodness. thank you."

"there's no words. just that you were amazing this weekend."

a hand lands on her back. she turns around and covers her face as she fights the biggest grin. "you beat me in f1, mate!"

the australian accent fills her ears as he congratulates her. oscar takes her into his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder as they lock themselves in a tight embrace. he rubs circles on her back. "congrats on the podium, mate."

[danica patrick] now they're in a weird spot. oscar, on one hand, has been backed by mark webber for years. his best friend is racing under sebastian vettel. everybody knows those two don't get along – is it possible that it could reflect on their friendship as well?

-> silverstone, 2023

"overtake available." her andretti, slowly inches towards the mclaren of oscar's up ahead. "whenever you see fit."

"what's the gap?" oscar huffs, head snapping over to his side mirror briefly.

"0.2."

at the next turn, she takes a big lunge on the inside of the track to go ahead of oscar.

"there's a bit of fighting at the midfield here between a mclaren and an andretti. oscar piastri, however, does not let her go. he is still fighting to hopefully finish ahead of her in today's race."

"keep the pace. try to shake oscar off, he's still close behind you."

"noted."

racing on the track with oscar? nothing i haven't done before.

[oscar piastri] she's always been great at keeping up and being a challenging competitor on the track.

[logan sargeant] she's very fast on and off the track. i rarely beat her in racing... so...

"oscar piastri takes the checkered flag behind the andretti, failing to fight with the incredible pace the new car has shown this weekend."

in parc ferme, the girl takes her helmet off, turning around sharply to the man in papaya orange as he lifts himself out of the car. "good fight, mate."

"good fight," oscar smiles. they share a quick hug before the younger girl briefly runs away from him to approach logan further down the lane.

[danica patrick] we've seen what the sport does to friends. it does not matter how long you've been friends – it will eventually catch up to you and everybody involved.

-> austin, 2023

"the andretti finished in p5 and logan sargeant has just been promoted to p10 following the disqualification of charles leclerc and lewis hamilton. oscar, however, retires from the race following a crash with esteban ocon."

i don't beat oscar often – so whenever the rarity comes up, i take it with open arms.

"ah, screw you mate," oscar laughs, throwing his arms around the younger girl once again. "good finish."

she flips her hair as she pulls away and bats her eyelashes. "what can i say? i'm made for formula 1."

[sebastian vettel] they're sweet kids. i don't think there is any animosity between them. they lived together while they karted weekend after weekend. they're used to it... i think.

we've fought about things like these growing up. oh, for sure. we're both the oldest siblings – so the competition never ends between us.

[oscar piastri] she is very competitive. she's only fair when it comes to racing on the track though. everything else, she finds a way to come out on top.

-> oxford, 2023 (winter break)

"i won."

logan turns to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. "no, you didn't."

now stood up, the girl looked down at logan with a mirrored bewildered expression on her face. "yes, i did."

"no," logan repeats with his eyebrows raised, "you did not."

she clenches her jaw. "yes, i did."

"dude." logan turns to look at oscar, sitting across the table from them. their gazes all land on the card that she puts in the middle. "that's a yellow card that you coloured over with red marker. you lost – just admit it."

"what do you mean? that's a legit card." she lifts it up and reveals to the camera a card that's been poorly coloured red with some scratches that reveal the authenticity of the yellow that logan had just pointed out.

[logan sargeant] she's such a sore loser.

-> abu dhabi, 2023

"that's the andretti of the rookie driver crossing the finish line in p4, and that puts her in 6th place in the driver's championship. we might just be at the start of history being made, folks."

[sebastian vettel] what can i say? i'm never wrong with who i place my bets on.

[danica patrick] she proved a lot of people wrong this year, including me. she is an exciting up and coming driver.

she shrugs with a smug grin on her face. oh, i'm here to stay, babes.

andretti has secured her with a multi-year contract with the team – she will be racing under them until 2028.

the clapperboard clicks loudly, a man sits there with a cheeky grin as he stares into the camera. i'm liam lawson and i'm now an andretti race car driver. see you on the track in 2024.

– bonus

"aw, mate! they totally twisted that whole scene up!" she scoffs, throwing a small pillow at the tv screen. "dalton was the one that coloured that uno card in. not me!"

oscar turns to her. "yet you still used it despite the fact that we agreed to not use it in games anymore."

"the game would not have been fair if we were missing one card!"

logan scoffs. "we let you win, anyway."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @nikfigueiredo @namgification @happy-nico @darleneslane @littlesatanicassholebitch @localwhoore @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando

[spotsspeciall]

Factory meetings - LN4

vol. 2

Lando Norris x fem!reader

summary: Lando makes a move to Red Bull for 2024 and you work in the Red Bull factory. You meet him, and he’s a dick. But something inside you, needs him. 

Notes: Shoutout to @f1goat and the “His teammate” series, for the inspiration!!  Fair warning, I'm talking alittle shit about McLaren, but I am a McLaren girly and It’s all lies, I mean nothing by it! I also made up some gibberish about the car, since I don’t know how everything really works haha. This was also longer than I expected, but I can honestly say I'm pretty proud of it.

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it folks!) p in v, pet names, language.

word count: 7.3k

masterlist

You had been working at the Red Bull factory in Milton Keynes for 2 years. After getting your degree in mechanical engineering, you grabbed the first opening in Red Bull. And now you had built your way up to your current position. 

You were sitting on the chair, staring at the little metal pieces in front of you. Trying to figure out the best way to puzzle them together, and make the most out of the car.

Your job was to plan, and build components in the car. And when you gained your current position at the factory, you helped with the success of the RB19. 

Working in the factory, you rarely met the drivers. They were here a lot for the simulator and meetings, but your paths rarely crossed. You didn’t need to have contact with the drivers, so you didn’t. Only seeing them from afar, when the whole factory came together for a meeting.

Monday morning, just over a week since the last race in Abu-dhabi, the RB19 had been a huge success. And you were working hard to finish the last details on the RB20 before the new season, working even harder than you did on the RB19. Trying to make the RB20 even better, as impossible as that sounds. 

You had a goodbye party for Checo on Friday, as he was retiring. And Christian Horner had announced that Lando Norris was taking his seat.

You had never met Lando, only seen him when you watched the races. And from what you had heard about him, he was kind of a dick. 

You and the other women working for Red Bull had formed a strong bond, you and the Red Bull media girl, Sophie, were basically best friends. And since she was on the track every race weekend, she had some encounters with Lando. 

She said he was constantly grumpy. He only cared about racing, and the fact that he hadn’t had a win yet, already being in McLaren for 5 years, it started taking a toll on him. 

He used to be a kind and sweet person. Loving to chat to people, and loving the interaction with his fans. He was just an all around loving guy. But when his fist win never came, and 

The McLaren car never got faster. He turned mean and angry, and stopped caring about anything other than racing. And when Christian gave him a nice offer to fill Checo’s seat, he jumped on it, no hesitation. 

You picked up your tools and started assembling the pieces again, to see if your mind had any ideas. 

You had your normal shitty Monday morning, and you didn’t have time to properly get ready. So you were sitting here in the Red Bull work clothes, your hair was up, but it had fallen out of your bun and was falling in your face, and you kept trying to pull it behind your ears. You didn’t have time for either makeup or to put your contacts in, so it was glasses today. But it wasn’t that bad, everyone saw you like this every Monday (and most other days too)

But what you didn’t know was that Lando was visiting the Factory today. To have a tour of the factory, and meet everyone working there. You didn’t hear the door open as you were staring a whole into the piece you just assembled. But you did hear your name being called. 

You turned around and met the eyes of Christian, but your eyes quickly looked over at the man standing beside him. You hurried to stand up and rip the gloves off your hands. Stretching out your hand to shake his. It seemed like he hesitated for a bit before shaking it, staring into your eyes the whole time. 

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”

“Lando”

Yeah, he seemed pretty grumpy. 

As you pulled your hand away, Christian started explaining who you were, and what your job was. You didn’t know if Lando was even listening because he was still just staring at you. 

Christian then turned to you and asked you how the work was going. 

“Oh yeah!” You were blocking their view of the piece, so you turned to walk around the table to show them. 

You started explaining what the piece was and what your goal for it was, as you put on a new pair of gloves to show them the piece. 

Putting it back down, Lando looked back at you. A small smile had made its way to his lips. 

“Is that going in my car?”

“Well yeah, it’s going in both cars”

“But, I’ll only drive the car if you’re the one working on it” He was now smirking at you and turned to Christian. “I’m serious” His smirk was gone.

“Don’t worry Lando, I’ll make sure of it” He said with a smile as he patted his shoulder. “We should move on to look at the paint booths” 

As they headed towards the door, Lando turned around before he left. His face was unreadable, and he had a look in his eyes you had never seen. You had never been more confused, and it took you a while to get back into the right headspace for you to finally crack the code.

There were only a few days left before Christmas break, and you hadn’t seen Lando since that first time. 

Today had been a stressful day as you tried to do as much as you could in the little time you had left. You were standing in front of the computer, looking at the readings from a recent test, and there were a few numbers off. The frustration got to you, and you pulled off your glasses, rubbing the bride of your nose. Before you shoved the keyboard away and buried your face in your arms on the desk as you groaned in frustration. 

Lando had one last visit to the simulator before break. And before he left for the day, he decided to see if you were there. He was mesmerized by you when he first saw you. Your hair was falling in your face, and the glasses framed your face perfectly. He noticed that you had no makeup on, but you were absolutely breathtaking. And when you started talking about your work, he saw the passion in your eyes. He felt a small pull in his chest, and felt like his old happy self for just a moment when he looked at you. 

But it quickly disappeared, and he realized his new mission. He needed to have you. 

When he opened the door, he heard a groan as he saw your face land in your arms on the desk. The desk was quite high, and as you were bent over it, your ass was on display for him. 

He had to fight himself to not go right over and touch you. But he still walked over and leaned on the desk beside you.

“Something wrong baby?”

You quickly looked up, shocked that someone was in the room with you, and why were they calling you “baby”?

When you met Lando’s eyes, you rolled your own. You had already made up your mind about him, and you were not surprised he was acting like this. 

You heard a low chuckle coming from him as he saw you rolling your eyes. 

You leaned closer to him, really close. He could feel your breath.

“Don’t call me baby”

You could see he was a little shocked at the closeness, so you smirked to yourself and stretched your hand out to grab your glasses that had landed beside him. 

Leaning back, you put your glasses on. “And if you must know, I didn’t get the result I wanted” 

You pointed to the numbers on the screen. His mouth was slightly open as he still looked a little shocked, but he turned his head to look at the numbers. 

“I don’t know what any of the numbers mean” He turned to look at you.

You laughed before replying “Yeah, I know” 

After closing your front door and throwing yourself on the couch. You pulled up your phone and sent a text to your best friend Sophie. 

“Lando came by the Factory today and called me baby…”

She answered right away.

"BRO!"

“No way!”

“He’s probably trying to get in your pants”

“WHAT?”

“NO HE IS NOT”

“He’s probably just trying to get a reaction out of me”

“Why would he want to get in my pants when he has models drooling over him?”

“Stop it Y/N”

“You are literally drop dead gorgeous.”

“Lando wishes he could get you! But don’t let him use you like that!”

“hahahaha”

“You’re the best Sophie”

“But yeah, he will not be getting anywhere near these sexy pants!”

“YEAHHHH GIRL”

“go piss girl”

“hahaha”

Closing your phone, you laughed to yourself. And when you laid down in bed, and closed your eyes. You couldn’t help when your sleepy brain started thinking about him. 

You looked down. Seeing your naked body, tits jumping at the movement you were making. You saw your hands spread out on the lower abdomen of the man under you. You saw his hands groping your thighs, hips, tits. And when one of his hands traveled up to grab your jaw, you met his eyes. Lando. 

Waking up, you sat up in bed, hand flying to your jaw.

As your breathing calmed down, you realized the dream. Running the images through your head over and over again. And that's when you noticed just how turned on you were. Your panties totally soaked, and you felt hot.

Landing back in bed you groaned.

“Fuck you brain. That was so fucked up”

You rubbed your hands over your face before getting out of bed. Just a few more days of work before break. 

Your brain had sneaked in thoughts about Lando all through the break, much to your dismay. And he always showed up when you were close to an orgasm by your own hand. And one time, his name slipped out in a whisper. But you would try to deny yourself that it ever happened. 

And when it was time to go back to work, you felt like it had been long enough for you to forget everything, just praying you didn’t have to see him for a while.

And you were lucky for once. The end of January was nearing, and you had yet to see him. But you knew it was not long before you would.

The start of February was when the car was launching. And you had worked your ass off to finish the last bits, and the tests and readings were good, great even. 

There would be a reveal of the finished car in the factory, for all employees, before it was going to be a public launch. And you knew reveal day meant Lando. But you would be fine, all of the employees would be there, no way you would have any contact with him. 

And when the day finally arrived you were excited. The RB20 was going to be revealed, a car you helped make, and that was all you could focus on. 

You and Sophie were standing together up at the front of the crowd, looking at the car covered in a protective sheet. Christian got up beside the car and started his speech, and then he reached the moment where he introduced the two drivers for the team. Max Verstappen, the reigning world champion, and the new Lando Norris.

As he walked up beside the car, he was dressed in the Red Bull racing suit, and you couldn’t help but admire him in it. It wasn’t wrong to think the man looked good, incredibly good. You knew he was still an asshole, but you did have eyes. 

Max had his speech, and then it was Lando’s turn. It was a good speech, talking about how he was ready for something new, a more competitive car. He then started thanking the people working on the car, and he locked eyes with you, and held it until he was finished speaking. 

Lando and Max then lifted the sheet off the car to reveal it. And the crowd started clapping. You marveled at the car for a minute, feeling proud. But you felt his eyes on you. So you looked back at him, and you saw that stupid smirk on his face, he then had the audacity to give you a wink. You rolled your eyes at him, and when you looked back at him, he had a genuine smile on his face, and a glint in his eyes. And for just a moment, butterflies fluttered in your stomach, before you were interrupted with Christian speaking again.

You were standing in front of the car, looking down at it in admiration. The “party” had been moved to a different room, where food and drinks were served. And when you found a quiet moment, you slipped away to go look at the car. 

You were all alone as you squatted down to get a better look at the car, and the details of it. You couldn’t believe you had a hand in building it. This was Max’s car, with the big, red number 1 on it.

Standing back up, you felt a hand slide its way to your lower back. Shocked, you turned to look at the person beside you. Of course. Lando. 

He had that typical smirk on his face as he spoke to you in a low tone. 

“Hope you did a lot of work on my car too” “I was serious when I said I will only drive it if you have”

You rolled your eyes again, it was something he really brought out of you. 

“I have!” You put on some fake excitement in your tone. “I even put a little extra work into your car” You gave him a suggestive wink.

“Oh, so my car might be a little faster?” He said in a hushed tone, like you were sharing a secret. 

“Yeah” You nodded at him, and pointed to the car in front of you. “This is your car right?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “No, this is Max’s”

“Oh shit, guess I put it in the wrong car then” You shrugged your shoulders as you couldn’t hold your laughter anymore. 

You turned to walk away, leaving the hold he still had on your lower back. The place where his hand had been was burning hot. And when he saw you taking quick steps to get away, he hurried to follow after you. 

“Baby, that was not nice” He said with a small pout as he finally caught up with you. 

You stopped in your tracks. “I told you to stop calling me that” 

“Oh you look cute when you’re angry” His amusement was clear on his face. 

If you weren’t angry before, you sure were now. You groaned as you started walking away from him again. And before you entered the door to the party, he shouted to you.

“Can’t wait to see you again soon baby!” You could hear the grin on his face. But you just opened the door and walked inside, hoping to not see him for the rest of the night.

Just a week after, you were back at work, looking over some data on the computer, when you heard a knock at the door, and then it opened and closed. 

Turning around, you were met with Christian. “Oh hey Christian!” “Wasn't expecting you to be here!”

He smiled at you, “I am here to ask if you’re free to have a meeting in my office?”

“Right now?”

He looked down at the expensive watch around his wrist. “Yes”

“Um, yeah sure!” “I’m just going to-” You trailed off as you pressed a few buttons on the computer, before turning it off and walking towards Christian. “Shall we?”

Sitting down in the chair opposite his desk, it all started to become a little intimidating. You waited for him to speak as he looked at a few papers, before lifting his head and meeting your eyes. 

“Y/N” “First, I want to formally thank you for your work on the RB19. You made the car what it was. Great work” “And I also want to thank you for the work you’ve put into the RB20. I know it will be even better than the 19” He smiled at you, and you smiled back as you nodded, silently thanking him for his words. 

He continued, “I have been talking with Lando Norris, and after he had a test in the car, and felt how it worked. And after he also saw how you worked on it, he has asked for you to be his no.1 mechanic.” He paused, waiting for your response.

“No.1 mechanic? as in, at every race, in the garage, being the head mechanic on his car?” You were shocked, confused.

“Yes.” He gave you a warm smile. “When he suggested it, I totally agreed.” “It would be a perfect job for you, and with all the work you have put in, the least I can do for you is to give you a chance to be with the car at every race.” “So, do you want the job?”

You didn’t even think about the fact that Lando was the one to suggest the job for you. You just focused on the fact that you could be the no.1 mechanic. 

“Yes” “Yes I do.” A big smile grew on your face.

“Perfect!” Christian clapped his hands together, and picked up the papers he previously looked at. “Take the time you need to read through them before signing” 

Taking the papers in your hands, you read through it. And everything looked perfect. So you signed where you needed to. And handed the papers back to Christian. 

“Thank you so much for this opportunity!” “I can’t wait to get started” You couldn’t stop smiling.

“Good!” “Can’t wait to see you on the track”

He then told you the plan heading forwards. You had plenty of meetings coming up. You needed to know what to expect in the garage. And you had a few meetings with the people working in the garage. And after all of that was finished, you were headed to the pre-season testing in Bahrain. 

Arriving in Bahrain, you felt prepared. And you were even more happy to finally join Sophie at work, as you walked into the garage together. 

Testing had been going pretty great so far, you only needed to do a few tweaks on the car to see if the performance was different. 

On the other end, Lando had been tolerable. He had his usual flirty, teasing persona around you. But now that you worked together in a small garage, he had toned it down a bit, much to your pleasure. 

But when you got a moment alone, he always sneaked up on you and rested his hand on your lower back, called you baby, and did everything to annoy you. Much to your frustration.

You had been single for a few years. And you hadn’t slept with too many people after. But now it had been a really long time since last. Too busy at work to even care, but you were growing more and more pent up and frustrated. And this asshole resting his hand on your lower back was not helping. It was also not helping that he looked drool worthy all the time.

What was helping, was the fact that he was just that, an asshole. But you had no excuse for yourself when you were alone at night, and you just stopped caring. It made you cum fast, and you were happy with that. So you kept thinking about him every time, while whispering his name under your breath. 

It was the fourth race of the season, and you were in Japan. The previous races were good to Lando, who had gotten a podium on each one, but no win yet. But he was good in Japan, he knew this could be the one.

It was early on Thursday, and when Lando walked into the garage, he found you working on the car, alone. 

You were so focused as you lay bent over the nose of the car, trying to screw something that was in a tricky position. When Lando saw the sight of you like that, bent over, legs spread, he felt his dick twitch. 

He quickly turned his head to look around for the sign of any people, seeing no one, he walked up to you, close enough so your feet were almost touching. Looking down at you, he noticed you still didn’t know he was there, so he cleared his throat to get your attention. 

When you heard the sound, it spooked you, and you went to stand up from the compromising position you were in. But you didn’t know someone was standing right behind you. So when you lifted yourself off the car, your ass hit something, someone. You felt a pair of strong hands grab onto your hips to stabilize the both of you, as your back was now flush against his chest. When you looked down at his hands, you saw his watch and bracelets and immediately knew who it was. 

You heard a low groan coming from him, right by your ear. And you felt a bulge grow right where your ass was resting against his crotch. You panicked, and shoved yourself back to knock his balance off so he would get off you. When he did, you turned around to look at him with anger in your eyes.

“What the fuck was that Norris!?”

You didn’t even let him answer before you turned to storm out. Two reasons why. First, you were flustered and could feel your face heat up, and you did not want him to see that. Second, feeling his hands hold your waist, and the bulge grow in his pants, you were already soaked and horny beyond belief, and you did not want to be around him in a state like that. 

Lando stood there, a little shocked, and flustered. He pulled his hoodie down to try and cover up the bulge in his pants, as he headed towards his driver room.

It was time for a car check. And you were picking up the steering wheel to put it in the car. When you turned back around to go over to the car, you saw him.

Lando was standing in his seat, and you watched him lower himself into the seat, holding onto the halo with a tight grip.

You almost dropped the steering wheel in your hand, as your eyes focused on his hands. You had to literally shake your head to get back to the right headspace.

You walked over to the car, and looked down at Lando looking around the cockpit, trying to get in a comfortable position. After he found it, he looked up and his eyes met yours.

His eyes were shining from the lighting on the ceiling. And the feeling that arose was butterflies hidden by anger. Why the fuck was he so breathtaking, but also such a dick. Fuck him. 

You clenched your jaw as you kept eye contact with him. 

“You gonna hand me the steering wheel love?” There was that stupid smirk again.

You narrowed your eyes at him in anger, and handed him the wheel. He clicked it in place, and looked back up at you and told you something he wanted changed on the car. 

Luckily for you, when he started talking about the car, you went straight into work mode. Not a single thought about Lando in your brain. (Only far in the back)

He pointed to show you something that was underneath the steering wheel, right over where his legs rested. And you couldn’t see it. So you stepped farther towards the back of the car, to see it more from his angle. You grabbed a stepping stool that was standing close by, and leaned over the halo. You face resting just beside his. 

“What was it again?” You asked him, surprisingly calm, but the working Y/N was in control right now.

He pointed again, and started explaining it. And you stretched a hand out to point to it as well, making sure you understood each other. 

Lando didn’t expect you to get that close. And when you stretched your hand out and got even closer, he turned to look at you.

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face, and you could tell in your peripheral that he was looking at you. So you turned to look at him. Your faces so close that your noses almost touched. 

But somehow, you kept your cool. “I can fix that for you Lando, you just need to get out of the car.” You smiled innocently at him as you leaned back and stepped away. 

When he stepped out, you got your tools ready and lowered yourself into the seat, needing to sit there to get the best access.

As you worked away, Lando stood by the side of the car, arms folded against his chest. There was something going on in his body that he couldn’t recognise. He was still feeling the effects of what happened with the two of you earlier. But there was something different there as well.

On Sunday, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror in the public bathroom. It was not long before race start. And you were staring at yourself in the mirror.

You were angry, frustrated and way too fucking horny. Last night, you caved, again. Imagining your fingers were his. You used it as a way of getting the anger out, and it worked. 

But your brain was on overdrive and everything was threatening to boil over. Looking at yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself, heading back out, ready for work, trying to ignore everything and hoping it would be fine. 

You were sitting on the pit wall, as you watched them line back up on the grid after the formation lap. And Lando lined his car up on P1. Max lined up in P4, unlucky in Q3.

The race start was good, the top 5 drivers staying as is. Lando keeping the lead until halfway in the race, Lando boxed to get new tires. And when he moved his way back up the grid again, you heard his voice coming on the radio.

“Something is wrong.”

“The gears are not working properly”

You turned to Lando’s race engineer sitting to your right. You nodded at him, and he nodded back, a silent exchange you both understood. 

He contacted Lando to tell him he was looking into it, and would update him as fast as possible. 

You looked at as much of the data as you could, as fast as you could. And there you found it. Between all the numbers and graphs, there was one thing off. 

You contacted the race engineer on the radio, and pointed to the mark on the screen. He saw it, and you both knew the solution. Luckily an easy one, as he only needed to press a few buttons on the steering wheel to change modes. 

The race engineer nodded at you again, but this time, in a way that signaled you to tell Lando. So you did.

“Lando, mode 6, and give it 3.8”

“Understood”

“Thanks Y/N”

You felt like you could hear a smile on his face, but probably not. Right?

When you looked back at the data, you saw everything was fine. And not long after, Lando radioed back to say it was good, and he was ready to get back to the chase.

And he did just that, climbing his way back up. Lucky for him, Max had pitted not long after Lando, making Lando ahead of Max in the race. 

You were anxious for the last few laps. He had gotten back into P1, and had made a reasonable gap back to the driver behind him. 

The screams you heard on the radio as he crossed the line first, almost made you deaf for a minute. And you had a big smile on your face as you celebrated with the crew on the pit wall, proud of the car you helped in making. 

You had gotten the car back to the garage after watching the podium. You, and two other mechanics were pulling the protective sheet over the car. You tried to keep your mind focused on the task at hand, but the image of Lando getting champagne poured on him was seared into your brain. But when you were done with everything, thanking the mechanics before you stepped back. You heard someone entering the garage. 

In walked Lando, soaked in champagne and still dressed in his racing suit that was hanging around his hips. When he saw you, he actually smiled. And seeing him like that, you couldn’t help the heat settling in your core.

He almost ran over to you and wrapped his arms around your hips. He lifted you with him in a tight hug, your feet far above the ground, you had to grab onto his shoulders for support. 

“There’s my no.1 mechanic!” 

His voice was muffled as his face was resting directly against your boobs. 

And when you squeezed his shoulders in reaction, he looked up at you as he still held you tight. You couldn’t get any words out. But as he looked up at you, he smiled. A genuine, lovely smile. But something else was shining in his eyes, and his pupils dilated. 

He felt you started to slip out of his arms, so he readjusted his grip. He got a firm hold on your ass, and when you felt it, everything boiled over.

“Let. Me. The Fuck. Down.” “Now.”

The mechanics stood there in confusion until they heard that. They shared a look, and hurried to leave the garage. Avoiding you screaming at Lando.

Lando heard the threatening tone in your voice, and he immediately lowered you to the ground. 

When he stood back to look at you, he opened his mouth to say something. But you were quicker.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME NORRIS? YOU CAN’T JUST LIFT ME UP LIKE THAT! AND NOT TO MENTION WHAT HAPPENED THURSDAY MORNING! YOU’RE MAKING ME GO CRAZY!” You basically screamed at him, with your finger pointing at him in anger. But you weren’t finished. 

“You’re the one who wanted me to have this job, and you’re usually rude and mean, but then you’re teasing me and acting all flirty?!” “You’re so fucking confusing!” 

Your brain had exploded at his point. Every feeling that had been pent up for so long, finally boiled over. And since everything hit you, you felt yourself grow wetter and wetter by the second. You let out a heavy breath and lifted your hands to hold onto your head in frustration. 

Lando had just taken it all, with his eyebrows lifted in shock. He was making you go crazy? His mind was running, what did you mean? He didn’t know what to do, what to say. But then he saw the small movement you made, and the look on your face. A smirk making its way to his face as his eyes got even darker. 

While in your frustration, your body just acted for you. And as you were standing there, looking anywhere but at him, your face red and hot, your whole body on fire. Your thighs squeezed together for some desperate neediness for something, anything. 

And when that caught Landos eyes, he took two long steps towards you. His arms wrapping around you, the palms of his hands resting on the top of your ass. 

When he was suddenly in front of you, so close. You dropped your hands in shock, and just stared into his eyes, then his lips. They were slightly parted, and you saw the quick moment his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Before you quickly looked back into his eyes, cursing yourself for the moment of weakness. 

When you locked eyes again, his eyes were dark, looking down at you. Lando had no patience left. He shoved your body hard, into himself. You chests touching, and the grip he had on your ass, where he was holding you tight against him, you felt almost every detail of his already growing bulge through his pants. If you weren’t soaked already, you sure were now. 

You had no control when you let out a small moan at the contact, and that was all Lando wanted, and needed to hear, as he leaned down to capture your lips in an aggressive kiss.

It was like he was hungry, starving for you. And Lando had wanted you since he first saw you, and with the months that had passed, it all came crashing down at the same time.

The kiss was messy, teeth clashing and rough. But you loved it, feeling another moan slip out of your throat.

As you moaned, Lando took the chance and slipped his tongue inside your mouth, your own immediately tangling with his. It was harsh, but so full of passion. His hands were guiding your hips in a way that gave him some much needed friction. And when your hands slid up to grab onto the hair at the back of his neck, he let out a low groan. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, and you pulled on his hair, so you disconnected. Your breathing was heavy as you looked up at him. He was breathing heavy too, and his lips were wet, and slightly red. His pupils blown wide. God, he looked so fucking good, you almost wanted to go back to being angry at him. just because of how hot he was. But you didn’t, he spoke before you could do anything.

“Shit, I need you.” His eyes darted all across your face, looking for any type of reaction. “Please”

He looked so desperate, and he sounded even more desperate. He was begging you. 

Fuck it, you needed this too. “Your driver room” “Now”

He was quick to grab your hand and pull you after him.

When you finally entered his driver room behind him, he turned around and closed the door behind you. And when he turned back around, he took long steps towards you, until your lips met again. 

Neither of you could control the sounds coming from the both of you. His hands were everywhere, grabbing onto what he could. You hands found his hair again, grabbing it, earning a sweet sound from him. 

He walked the both of you backwards until the backs of your legs hit the small couch. He spun the both of you around, he sat down and pulled you to sit on top of him. 

When you sat down, Lando looked down to where your hips met as his grip on your ass moved your hips, grinding yourself onto him. You lifted both of your hands to hold onto the sides of his face, and made him look at you.

When Lando looked at you, you almost took his breath away. Your cheeks were tinted pink, and your lips were open, breathing heavily. Some of your hair had fallen in your face and your eyes were shining as you looked at him, he swore, you were a goddess. His hands slid up to hold on to your waist, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a way to try and control himself. But he lost it the second you whispered.

“Just fuck me already”

His hands immediately found the hem of your Red Bull shirt and pulled it over your head. You understood the signal and stood up from his lap and went to pull your pants off, as he pulled the fireproof shirt over his head. 

You were standing in front of him in only your underwear as you looked at him hurrying to pull his race suit and the fireproofs of his legs. When he finally did, he looked up at you, and you swore you could see his dick twitch in his gray boxers. 

Your confidence grew in you, so you went to take your bra off. When it hit the floor, you could hear him muttering under his heavy breath “Fuck”. Next, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slowly pulled them down. 

It had been awhile since the last time someone saw you naked, but with the reaction Lando was giving you, his eyes looking at you like you were a goddess. It made you feel beautiful, and so powerful. So you stepped forward until you were right in front of him. His eyes kept shifting from your face to your tits. 

You sat down in his lap again, your knees resting beside his hips, and your core just barely touching the outline of his dick in his boxers. When you leaned down to capture his lips again, you lowered your hips until you felt his covered dick resting between your folds. And because of the much needed friction you got. You moaned into his mouth. 

The kiss was much slower and careful than before, frustration replaced by the need to really taste each other. His hands had found a tight hold on your hips, as he tried to guide them to move. 

“Baby, you’re soaked” He said as he looked down at where you were resting above him.

Lifting your hips, you saw that his boxers were absolutely soaked because of you. And you felt your face heat up even more. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore” “You reckon you’re ready to take me?”

He looked up at you, and you felt stunned. Just nodding wildly at him, his smirk grew. He looked down again, and pulled his boxers down enough to free his dick. Springing free, it hit his abdomen. You stared down, bewildered. How was he supposed to fit?

His hands found your hips again, and he guided them to rest right above him. One of his hands wrapped around his dick, and he moved his hands up and down a few times, as he looked up at you. You were staring down at his hand wrapped around himself, and you felt your pussy clench, waiting to finally have him inside of you. 

He moved his dick so the tip was resting against your hole. Looking up at him, he still had that smirk on his face. 

“Think you can handle it?” 

You didn’t reply before you dropped your hips down until he bottomed out inside of you. His pelvis hitting your clit. You both moaned simultaneously. The stretch was a lot, he was big, and you hadn’t had a dick in you for ages. But God it felt so good. 

Lando swore no one had been able to fit around him so perfectly, and when you took all of him, he felt you clench around him, almost holding him in. He felt another moan slip out of him. His mouth was hanging open in awe as he looked at you. Your head was tipped back, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“Shit, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you” He almost whispered.

He slid a hand up to hold on to the side of your face, tipping it down to make you look at him. And his other hand gave your hip a squeeze. 

“Please move”

You didn’t have to make him beg for you, he just did on his own. Was he really this weak for you?

A smirk grew on your face as you wanted to know just how weak he was. You just grinded your hips slowly, and you watched his face as his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You kept your small movements up, but he tried to lift your hips up and down on him. But you were stubborn, and you didn’t budge. 

Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, as the movement was so good for you. Your clit getting friction everytime you moved back and forth. Your breath coming out in whimpers. 

You closed your eyes again, but opened them when you felt his hand on your face again. The look on his face was pleading. 

“Please baby.” “I need more” His voice was so soft and sweet, and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. 

“Say it again.”

“Please please please please baby”

His hands were running up and down your torso as his eyes were locked on yours.

You gave in and moved your hips up to slam them back down. And the groan that made its way out of lando could’ve made you cum already.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, as you kept up the rhythm, riding him with your hands gripping his shoulders. His hands slid around to your ass and grabbed a hold as he helped you move up and down on his dick, and his hips moved up to meet yours. 

You knew the door to the driver room was pretty thin, so you bit your bottom lip to try and hold back some of the sounds threatening to escape. Lando noticed, and snaked a hand around to circle his thumb around your clit. He saw it on your face, the effect it had on you. But he also felt it, as you got even tighter around him. You didn’t moan from it, but he sure did. 

You were so focused as you tried to keep quiet, but with the added pleasure it was so difficult, also because of the sounds he was making.

“Come on baby, let me hear you” He said in a low tone, as he was looking up at you.

That broke you. And he got the sounds from you that he desperately needed to hear. 

As you looked down at him, you saw his eyebrows scrunched together as he was staring at himself disappearing inside you, and his mouth was hanging open. You lifted one of your hands and ran it through the wet curls on the top of his head, still soaked in champagne and sweat. 

You grabbed a hold of them and pulled his head back to make him look at you. All of the feelings you had for him came rising to the surface, just as you felt your climax closing in. The feelings of anger and frustration. So with gritted teeth, you spoke.

“Fuck you.”

He enjoyed that.

“You already are sweetheart.”

You gave in and sped up your rhythm. And his thumb moved faster and his grip on your ass tightened. Your hand slid down to cradle his jaw. You ran your thumb across the facial hair growing on his chin, before you pulled him in for a searing kiss before your climax hit like a brick wall. 

You disconnected from the kiss and tipped your head back, eyes screwed shut, as your vision was going white, and you whispered a quiet “Fuck, Lando” as you came. 

Lando felt you tighten around him as you came, and he looked up at you, mesmerized, as he saw your face contourting as you came around him. And he followed right after, coming inside you. 

You felt him filling you up, and his thumb had slowed down, but was still rubbing soft circles helping you come down from your orgasm. After a few seconds of catching your breath, as he did the same, you opened your eyes to look at him again, and he was already looking at you. The ghost of a gorgeous smile on his face. 

His hands rested on your thighs, and his thumb rubbing soft circles again. Neither of you said anything, you just looked at each other.

“You’re going to be the death of me” 

He was whipped.

Notes: I realized this could be made into a series or something. So let me know if you want more!! Thank you for reading<3

[chrisdr3]

Finally ~ DR3

Requested

Summary: Y/N walks in on Daniel jerking off, but she stays to help him a bit ;)

Warnings: smut, masturbation, unprotected sëx (wrap it before you tap it), riding, aftercare (very important luvs) a bit of fluff in the end

It was a cold, rainy afternoon. Daniel returned home late at morning from Abu Dhabi, but you had already gone to work. He knew that you were working hard and loved your job, so he didn't pressure you to join him to his races. All the days he was away, he was missing you you more and more every day, which made him needy and horny.

He was at home, waiting patiently for you to come back. He emptied his suitcases and put his things in their place. He got bored so he did the laundry, made dinner, made the bed and took a bath. As he was getting dressed his phone buzzed. He took it and saw a message from you saying that you were stuck in the traffic and that you were gonna be late.

He sighed and sat in the bed, only in his boxers, scrolling through the photos in his phone gallery. As he was scrolling through some photos of you together in the summer break, he came across some photos of you with a little bikini he bought you. It was a cute pink one, so small that left little to the imagination. It also had ribbons on the sides that could be undone to take it off easily and that turned him on.

He felt his body burning. He was horny as hell, but couldn't wait for you to come home, so he had to satisfy himself in other ways. He laid his head back to the headboard and and lowered his hand on his waist, lowering his boxers down, and took them off. His cock sprung out, hitting his stomach. It was big and had turned hard, veins popping in it's sides.

He placed his hand there, moving it up and down, imagining that it was you riding him. He closed his eyes, head falling back, sweet moans escaping his mouth.

Meanwhile, you finally got home and parked your car in the driveway. You got in the house, knowing that Daniel should be back. You left your coat in a chair to dry. "I'm home." You yelled. No response. It was weird because his jacket and keys were in the living room, revealing that he finally came back.

You started to search for him, after a quick visit to the bathroom. He was nowhere to be found, and there was one room you haven't searched for. Your bedroom. As you were reaching the room, you heard faint moans and got worried. "Is he cheating on me?" You thought. You opened the door, only to find him jerking off, moaning your name. Fuck, it was so hot. You leaned against the door, watching him. "Fuckk...huff...Y/N...fuck..." He groaned.

"Yes Danny?" His eyes opened wide, filled with shock and lust. You got closer to him, to the bed. "Do you want some help?" You whispered, eyes exploring his body. "I need you baby, I missed the way you feel." He growled. "Deal." You started undressing slowly, teasing him. You were only in your panties, when he dragged you close to him, ripping your underwear apart and throwing it somewhere in the floor.

He laid back in the bed, one hand in the back of his head. "Come on sweetheart, sit down." He growled, patting his leg. You sat down and straddled him a little above his dick, rubbing your wet pussy in his lap. He couldn't take it anymore and placed you in his cock, his red tip ready to enter your hole.

You tried to sit down slowly, but he grabbed your hips and pulled you down. You moaned loudly, nearly screaming in the feeling of him stretching your little pussy after all ths time. He patted your ass gently. "You know what you have to do babygirl." He whispered. You placed your hands in his shoulder as you started grinding him, his hands guiding you.

It wasn't long till you felt his dick twitching inside you, meaning he was close. You started grinding harder and felt that knot in your stomach you had missed so much.

After a bit you came with a high pitch moan and he followed, filling you up and mixing your warm liquids together. He got you off gently, trying to keep them in and kissed your forehead gently. Then he got up and returned with a wet towel to clean you up.

"God i missed this so much." You mumbled. "Me too baby, thank you for your help." He said while cleaning your thighs gently. "You should go pee babygirl, don't want to have kids yet, 'kay?" He added. "Mkay." You tried standing up but your thighs were too sore. He then lifted you up and got you to the bathroom.

After you got finished and took a birth control pill just in case, he got you back to your bedroom and laid you down gently, then wrapping his hands around you and cuddling. "I missed you so much little one." "Me too Danny, me too." He kissed your forehead gently.

"I also made dinner if you want some." That's the last thing you heard before falling asleep in his warm embrace after so many weeks.

Tagging: @pinkswaet @thef1diary @dilemmaontwolegs

[robfinancialtip]

🗽🌍Raja Iqdeimat, a successful pastry firm owner, describes her story. Born in Abu Dhabi, she grew up in several places, including Libya, Lebanon, Jordan, and Kuwait before moving to Turkey, California, and finally New York. Despite her parents' lack of education, she was the first member of her family to pursue higher education and succeed. She credits her parents for instilling entrepreneurial skills and determination in her despite their lack of formal schooling.

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦🌱Growing up as the youngest member of a large family of nine, Raja felt unusual, but she believed that each family had a unique person who contributed in different ways. Despite lacking a formal education, she describes how her father was a successful businessman who inspired her to pursue her aspirations. Raja's mother, though uneducated, was hardworking and concerned about her family's well-being, imparting in Raja a strong work ethic and tenacity.

😔💼Growing up in different places and seeking a profession in finance was filled with personal losses and difficulties. Despite working as a brokerage manager in Jordan for seven years, dealing derivatives, equities, and bonds, she felt great loneliness following the deaths of her parents when she moved to the United States as a single mother without a broker's license. When the mass layoff in 2008, she was unemployed for six to seven months in California, struggling to support herself and her kid. Realizing that California's emphasis on the film industry did not fit with her career goals, she boldly moved to New York, where she swiftly obtained a job at an insurance firm and began rebuilding her life.

🏙️🎉While working at a New York bank in 2018, her manager questioned her capacity to buy a Manhattan apartment, which proved critical. This distrust motivated Raja to pursue entrepreneurship and independence. Despite difficulties and misgivings, she bravely launched her own business, motivated by her passion for entrepreneurship and need for autonomy. This marked the beginning of Délice Macarons, her venture into the world of cooking pastry, and her journey toward self-reliance and success.

🚀🧁Raja, a dessert shop owner in New Jersey, faced challenges during the COVID-19 pandemic. Despite lacking retail expertise, she managed everything from decoration to recruitment, relying on her entrepreneurial flair. She and her chef friend opened their first physical store in Cranford, New Jersey, in January 2020. Despite financial constraints, they shifted their business strategy to focus on fundamental products like bread. Raja's resilience and ability to transform adversity into opportunity remained evident.

🌟🗣️Raja's message encourages listeners, emphasizing the value of endurance, adaptation, and believing in oneself. Despite various barriers, including financial difficulties and the enormous task of beginning a business in a new nation, she stayed determined to succeed, demonstrating that anything is possible with devotion and hard work. Raja's path demonstrates the importance of taking risks, pursuing passion, and never giving up on one's goals. Her tale resonates with individuals who want to overcome obstacles and succeed on their terms. Raja highlights the importance of perseverance, hard work, and financial acumen. She promotes confidence in oneself and pursuing one's goals, emphasizing that hard work combined with passion may lead to success in any activity.

[theemporium]

Hey love, throwing a sunshine & daniel idea out there. Sunshine overworking herself, I’m talking late nights and even earlier starts

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Daniel understood that despite the same field of work, your job was much different to his. 

Once he crossed that line in Abu Dhabi and finished the season off, he was essentially done until February. Sure, he had a few meetings and publicity events here and there, but he was essentially off work until the new season kicked up again. 

As an engineer, it was different for you. This was probably the most stressful time of the year for you as you scrambled around to make the best car possible before the new season started. There would be countless meetings, nights sprawled over sheets of data and brainstorming sessions with the team to try get the best possible results. 

Daniel knew it was a busy time for you. He understood that. But he couldn’t help but feel even this was too much for what you were meant to be doing. 

He hardly saw you anymore. In the last week alone, he had probably spent a grand total of a few hours with you between a few shared meals and the time you slept together in your shared bed. You would crawl into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and you’d be long gone by the time he woke up. 

Selfishly, he missed you and having you all to himself. But he also didn’t like the way you were working yourself to the bone, quickly tethering a line of working hard and overworking yourself. 

He reached his limit when he came back home from a morning jog to find you at the dining table, head laying on your arms as you slept. And guessing by the laptop and papers sprawled around you, he knew you hadn’t meant to fall asleep. 

You had just exhausted yourself to the point of passing out. 

Daniel quickly made his way over to the table, saving whatever you were working on before closing your laptop and placing all the papers in a neat pile. He then kneeled down next to you, gently shaking you until you slowly blinked your eyes open. 

“Danny?”

“Hey, Sunshine,” he murmured with a soft smile, his fingers pushing some hair behind your ear. 

“I—” you frowned a little, your brain racking as you tried to remember where you were and what you were doing. 

“You’re worrying me, baby,” Daniel said as he watched you slowly blink as you glanced around the room. “You’re working too hard.” 

You looked guilty. “I know, I just—”

He raised his brows. “Just what?” 

“I wanna do a good job,” you admitted with a sigh. 

“You can’t do a good job if you’re draining yourself,” he commented, and you knew he was right. He sighed, standing up and offering his hand to you. “C’mon.” 

You blinked. “Huh?” 

“Come on,” he said again as he pulled you out of your seat. “Let’s go nap, let you catch up on some sleep. Maybe take a day off to recuperate.” 

Your face fell. “Danny, I can’t. The team—”

“Will understand,” he assured you as he held your face. “You can’t help if you’re exhausting your brain and your body.” 

“You’re a bad influence,” you muttered but there was a hint of thankfulness in your words. 

“Nah, I’m just a selfish bastard who wants his girl to himself for a few days,” Daniel grinned before his hands dropped to your waist as he lifted you. “Let’s go, I’ve been missing my girl.” 

“I can walk you know,” you laughed, even when you wrapped your legs around his torso. 

Daniel grinned as he began making his way to your shared room. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

.

[paddockbunny]

From List A - 103, 163, 306 with Lando Norris maybe?

Gentle Touch

Summary : You and Lando were best friends, so what is an innocent massage between friends? Rating : 18+ Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader Word Count : ONE SHOT!!!!!! Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult language, best friend trope, PinV sex Images : curated from Pintrest & edited by me.

List : A List Prompt : 103 - “Relax”. 163 : “You don’t have to be so shy around me, y’know?” 306 : “Stop. I’m supposed to be making you feel good”

You and Lando had been friends for years. You first met him through Max – who you had gone to school with – while you were dating Max’s other best friend James. It was one of those things where the stars all seemed to align at just the right time. Lando and Max were in the throws of setting up what was now known as Quadrant. A well-timed quip from James about how you spent hours gaming and quote “neglecting you girlfriend-y duties” (aka shagging) meant Lando invited you to join almost instantly. You suspected it was because a girl would bring a good element of diversity (and male subscribers) but you were more than welcome to ditch your shitty retail job for the chance. Subsequently it meant you had been given amazing opportunities and had travelled all over the world thanks to Quadrant. You got to go ATV riding through sand dunes in Abu Dhabi, koala feeding in Australia and partying in too many nightclubs and on too many yachts to even remember where you actually were and when. Safe to say you dumped James pretty quickly after landing the gig. He did nothing but made you decision seem like a betrayal and as though you had chosen Lando and Max over him. Now, with hindsight you probably did choose Lando and Max over James but you thanked your lucky stars that you did.

Landing in Nice airport with the guys was always fun and full of expectation. You had been once before but this year, this weekend was going to be a week unlike any other now Lando had moved here and knew the place like the back of his hand. The Grand Prix was the perfect backdrop to a weekend full of laughs, filming and partying. Well, it should have been. The issues began back in Heathrow airport. You were always the most organised out of all of the boys and so there you stood precisely 3 hours before your departure time, passport in hand and front of the queue when the check in bag drop opened. Except, the words you weren’t expecting to hear “I’m so sorry to have to inform you of this but unfortunately the flight has been over booked” came flowing out of the uniformed girl behind the desk. You gingerly asked what that meant – semi hopeful you had actually been bumped up to first class – to only be met with; “So the aviation team have rebooked you on our next available flight which is at 21 hundred this evening.” Fuck. You explained you were a part of a group and you were needed in Monaco for work as you were working the Grand Prix (a slight exaggeration but she didn’t know that) but it fell on deaf ears. So what else could you do? You had no choice but to agree to it or else you wouldn’t be going to Monaco at all. It irked and annoyed you that you watched the rest of the boys all wave as they ascended through toward security and you had no option other than to sit in the departures check in area and twiddle your thumbs.

After several monotonous, boring hours of trying hard not to look at your phone – or the time – you decided to call Lando and tell him you would be coming in later that the rest of the gang. His phone rang and rang until finally when you thought about giving up he answered. He sounded out of breath. “Sorry, I was in the shower.” Nice image (you wanted to say but a part of you knew that might come across as creepy).  “I thought you would be on the flight?” And then you told him before you were met with a roar of laughter.

“Oh yeah just make fun of me Lando. It’s just my fucking luck!” You exclaimed, not caring who could overhear you. Thing was this wasn’t the first time this had happened. You were cursed. When you flew out to the Miami Grand Prix you were stuck in coach when the boys all got upgraded. When you went to Australia one of your bags went missing and you had to go out and buy a bunch of stuff on your credit card. When you went to Abu Dhabi you were delayed by 12 hours after missing the first plane because of Stop Oil protesters blocking the motorway. You were plagued so Lando really did have the right to laugh.

“Listen, what time does the flight land? Send me your details. I’ll come pick you up instead of you getting a taxi. You can come stay at mine tonight then I’ll drop you off at the hotel tomorrow morning.” This was how Lando treated you. Not different than any of the guys but with more understanding that it was a different world out there for women. He was always making sure you were comfortable and you were protected (that was probably the best way to put it anyway). It was a very endearing quality in him. One that spans from him having sisters and the world full of men he was apart of. It was a quality you actually found rather attractive and made his hotness scale go up in your eyes whenever he did it. “You don’t have to Lando. I’m a big girl.” You joked. “I know you are but I want too.” His voice had gone way down low. You had only heard his voice do that weird hyper masculine thing before when he had been talking to his ex and was giving her the come on. He was probably only doing to you to get a reaction out of you. “Ok. If you insist.” You said light-heartedly back. Not wanting to ruin your day by getting into any form of back and forth with the master of sarcasm.

Thankfully, the day passed quicker than you thought possible. You had copious iced coffees from Café Nero and spoke to a lovely elderly woman who had gotten her time wrong for check in and had come to the airport five hours ahead of her scheduled flight time. 6pm seemed to slam upon you full force and you sailed back up to the check-in desk with as much gusto as you could muster. If you were expecting any complimentary extras like lounge access or a free upgrade you weren’t disappointed when a different woman slid your new boarding pass across the desk like you hadn’t been inconvenienced by the airline she was representing. “Have a nice flight” almost seemed like an insult to you at this point. You thankfully made your way through security quickly so you had some time to check out some of the perfume samples in the duty free, get yourself a new book in WH Smiths (which you probably wouldn’t open at any point at all before you arrived home) and another iced coffee before you were making the long walk to your gate to make sure you actually got on the flight you had waited all day to catch.

“Excuse me Miss.” The business man who had been unfortunate enough to sit beside you nudged you awake “We’re landing.” He added as you wiped the corner of your mouth hoping you had kept over to the left and your window instead of leaning to the right and drooling on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t sore.” You made a light joke knowing fine well you didn’t snore but the guy wasn’t even interested enough in your remark. His face buried in the obnoxiously large copy of the Financial Times - trying to look important and as if he understood any of the shit published on those pages – to even bother looking in your direction again. You settled for the fact that because you were now awake, he couldn’t glare down your V-neck top any longer. You waited until the plane touched down to take your phone off flight mode so it could find service in time for you to text Lando you had arrived. Actually, you needed to warn him. When you boarded the plane you had seen several caps, t-shirts and hoody’s that all reflected their wearer’s support for different teams and their intention of heading to the race this weekend. In fact, you had only escaped because you weren’t with the rest of the boys – or so you were telling yourself so you didn’t have to admit it was because you probably looked rough and no one thought THEE Lando Norris would hang around a girl that looked like you currently did.

Sitting at the back of the plane had its perks. It meant when you finally got off the flying tin can, down numerous walkways and through passport control your baggage was already awaiting you. As you collected it you were glad to see the text from Lando saying he was waiting in the pick up point for you. You had visions of him all but committing suicide by standing in the arrivals hall and being trampled to death by fans (like you had seen on other occasions when you had flown into a city hosting the sporting circus). He didn’t tell you exactly what he had decided to pick you up in but as you made your way out of the airport you giggled to yourself at your suitcase being strapped to the roof of a McLaren.

“This?” You exclaimed loudly. “Hello to you too. It’s nice to see you. I’m doing great thank you very much.” There was his signature sarcasm. You took in the sky blue Fiat Jolly before you – Lando leaning against it as if he were doing his best James Bond impersonation – and rolled your eyes. “In all seriousness, I’m glad you finally got here.” He flung his arms around you and hugged you tightly. Lando hugs were the best hugs. He hugged with all his might and weirdly you felt all stresses, anxiety and frustrations melted away when he would engulf you in his arms.

“It can only happen to me.” You whispered against his shoulder and you could tell he wanted to laugh or make a quick quip about your misfortune but he chose not too. Instead, Lando grabbed your suitcase and placed it into the Jolly as if it didn’t weigh a tone. You were here in Monaco for a week then going to Barcelona for the next race the weekend after so you had to pack for all eventualities and events. This time you hadn’t gone over your 23kg luggage allowance like you did so many times before.

“My Lady…” Lando smirked as he opened the imaginary door to your chariot before getting in himself. You weren’t sure this was particularly safe considering the car had no freaking doors and you had to travel on the French motorways to get from Nice to Monaco but if anyone could get you there a Formula One driver could.

By the time you had gotten to Lando’s apartment you had a second wind in you. Wide awake (blame the coffee) you ended up settling on the sofa across from each other talking as if you had known each other a thousand years. There was nothing Lando didn’t know about you because you had a tendency to over share when you got nervous – and boy were you nervous around him to start off with – but also because you liked talking to him. He was a good listener and he seemed to like doing it too. Tonight however, you took a back seat as you let him air out his frustrations with this season’s McLaren and the goings on within the team. There were several times you wondered if he was breaking confidentiality clauses by having such loose lips but you were happy he felt so at ease with you he could share like this. Momentarily you left to use the restroom. You wondered if he always had two sets of towels out or if that was due to your one night only guest appearance. He had even laid out a spare toothbrush for you – or at least you were hoping it was for you and it wasn’t because Lando secretly had a new lady friend but you shrugged because Max wouldn’t have been able to keep that a secret if he had. You winched at the pain in your neck again as you left the bathroom. You had jerked it this morning while getting your suitcase from the back of the car that had taken you to the airport due to a useless driver not wanting to exit the drivers seat for one stinking minute. It had gradually gotten worse and worse. It was just a pulled muscle or something but every time you moved your head you felt it become increasingly more tense.

You were pawing at it as you returned back to Lando and the sofa. You weren’t one to complain about injuries or feeling ill, you just got on with things, but Lando caught you and instantly knew something was wrong at your furrowed brows.

“I just jerked my neck this morning. I’ve pulled a muscle or something. It’ll be fine. It’ll go away.” You played it down. You were imposing enough by being in his apartment you didn’t want to make a hassle of yourself even more. Lando observed you, his eyes felt like fire on your skin before he arose from his position on the grey couch. “I’ll give you a massage. I’m quite good at it.” He smiled broadly like he was proud of himself. “No don’t be silly, I’ll just take some painkillers and go to sleep. It will be fine tomorrow.” You attempted to shrug it off again. “I’m not asking.” His voice did that same thing it did that morning when you were on the phone to him. It went all commanding and deep. Your eyes widened before they narrowed when you stopped thinking about the tone of his voice and instead the words he had spoken. His words were almost kinky. “I’m not asking” was usually followed up with “I’m telling” and it made your stomach do a little strange twist.

OK! Coming clean. You had a thing for Lando from the moment he asked you to be a part of Quadrant. He was funny, fun to be around and a total breath of fresh air to you. He had such a cheeky charm that you couldn’t help but begin to fancy him when you began to work together. Now you could see all of the flirty comments and looks he shot you were just because he knew girls liked to be flattered (and because it made good viewing on the channel). You had a small glimmer of hope when he drunkenly, mistakenly kissed you on the mouth when he missed your cheek after partying hard when he made a podium. The glimmer disappeared only a few weeks later when he went away to Ibiza with Max and the boys (citing a “boys weekend”) and came back in love, with a girlfriend. You weren’t heartbroken like all crappy romance novels would claim you should be. But you were a little dismayed and annoyed with yourself for leaning into thinking he could be more. She was beautiful, quiet, funny and oh yeah, STUNNINGLY FUCKING BEAUTIFUL! If you were so inclined even you would have wanted to date her. She made such a big effort to be your friend too that honestly; you sort of adored her too. After all, you hadn’t gone so far to think of Lando being anything more than a work colleague and friend so you were able to just shrug your little “thing” for him off.  You boxed up his kindness and affection toward you had been anything more than what it was and took everything since at face value (even when he fucked things up and they broke up). So now he had said, “I’m not asking” in that dropped voice tone thing, it certainly peaked your interest.

“Go undress,” He said it before he could catch himself “Uh, I meant, you can go take your top off, your….” He was fumbling and flailing his words. THIS was the Lando you knew so well. You almost laughed.

“If your sure?” You asked but he only nodded, not even looking in your direction. You left the safety of the neutral sitting room to go to the room in which he had shown you too when you arrived. Your suitcase was sitting in the corner with your things placed on top of it. You knew Lando had help decorating. The place was still relatively sparse and lacked any feminine touch. You wondered if his mum or his sisters had been across to see it because if they had they would have at least added a little colour to the white, grey and black he had going on. And as you remembered that you had come into the bedroom for a reason you suddenly got incredibly nervous. You had been almost naked in front of him before at beach clubs, yachts and whatnot but never topless. You rolled your eyes at yourself when you realised he wasn’t actually going to see you topless. You were going to be lying down when he came into the room. He might see a little side boob but some girls had more on display when you guys went clubbing. You pulled your hoody off and chucked it over on the chair in the corner. For the briefest of moments you hesitated before reaching around your back and unclasping your bra. Your heartbeat was whirling so loudly in your ears you momentarily went deaf. You therefore didn’t hear his gentle knock and opening of the door behind you. Scrambling to cover yourself with your arms when you suddenly realised Lando was standing in the room with you. “Fuck…are you trying to give me a heart attack?” You laughed off your shock and embarrassment just like he would have, with sarcasm.

“You don’t have to be so shy around me, y’know?” It was an unexpected line to come from him and yet strangely comforting. You noticed he was clutching a bottle of what looked like baby oil in his hand and yet you didn’t question it – even if you wanted too.

He turned slightly (probably sensing you were a bit nervous to be this exposed in front of him) and you lay down on your stomach on top of the soft white duvet. You tried a few grounding breaths to clear the hammering pounding in your heart but the attempts were all but useless. You tried to block out all of the thoughts that came flooding into your head when you realised how sensual this was about to become and bit on the inside of your lip to hold back your shaky breath when Lando lowered the lights.

“Do you want some spa music?” He jested light-heartedly which thankfully lightened the mood and made you laugh. It was what you needed to regain control of yourself. You felt his knees depress the mattress beside you before manoeuvring so he had a knee either side of your thighs. You almost gulped when you felt his wide muscular skin caress yours. Lando probably not even registering how much of a turn on that was. How in the hell were you about to get through him giving you a massage if you couldn’t even breathe as his skin touched yours?

Lando gently moved your hair out of the way before mentioning something about baby oil that you completely missed due to how loudly your heart was pounding inside your chest making your head go all woozy. In fact, if he had said anything at all you would have missed it because then without warning he poured some of the silky liquid on to the skin of your back. Jesus! You practically sighed out his name as he began spreading it around your flesh without a smidge of hesitation. A groan was stifled in your throat as you felt Lando apply some pressure to the base of your aching neck. His long fingers dug in where they needed too. They ground against the tight knots when he found them and began to melt away the tension.

“Relax” You heard his voice, his words coming out in something of a sigh. As much as you tried too you couldn’t help but pick up on his tone and you wished you hadn’t. You wished you had ignored his order to relax because now all you were thinking about was how non-relaxing the whole thing was because all he was accomplishing was turning you on which only made you try to relax more which was futile.

Then Lando really hit the spot. He located and zoned right in on the painful little niggle that you kept pawing away at all night. You hadn’t even realised he had done it until you let out nothing short of a pornographic sigh at the feeling of utter relief. The noise that emitted from you wasn’t a sound you ever – not even in your wildest dreams – thought you would ever be producing in front of Lando let alone FOR him.

“Does that feel good?” He asked curiously as his fingers and palm kept going, going and going. You hmm mmm’d instead of creating any actual words. Anything you could possibly say in that moment would have probably come out wrong and possibly give away the fact you had something of an unrequited crush on the man. Any words that dared to spill from your lips would give away how utterly turned on you were right now. Which in all honesty, the thought of Lando knowing about your smutty little thoughts about him made you cringe and want to shrivel up and die because you seriously doubted he would feel the same way about you.

As he progressed with the massage you tried to swallow each groan and moan that you could and yet some still eluded you. You had a sneaking suspicion that if you were to turn over unexpectedly Lando would be hovering above you with a giant smile upon his face, loving every second. You were sure he had some kind of power kink. And as you began to melt into the thoughts of Lando having any kind of kinks at all, you suddenly felt it. The first time you weren’t sure if you really had and even on the second time you felt you were mistaken and wrong. But the third, as he practically ground against your butt, you felt it. Lando was hard. You felt the entire length of him (base to tip) as his knees gave out a little and he pressed it up against your sweatpants covered ass. You wanted to gasp but you decided against it. You wanted to feel more of it. You wanted desperately to make sure. You moaned again for good measure so you could see if it would have another effect on him – cruel yes, but so was him suggesting a massage then getting hard in the middle of it without any possible intentions of giving it to you – which it did. Lando let out a swallowed gasp of a groan as if he was trying to cling on to it with his whole life. You said his name softly but he didn’t hear you – or he was ignoring you, which honestly was more like it – and so you said it again but louder.

“Lando…” You breathed. His hands stalled. He hadn’t bargained on you cottoning on. He only responded by uttering your name straight back at you before adding; “It’ll go away in a minute. I haven’t touched someone like this in a long time. I’m sorry.” The fact he was apologising for it made you want to scream. He had nothing to apologise for – not going by the state your own underwear was now in due to his actions – it was totally natural. The only thing you couldn’t understand was why now? Was it just the sheer action of touching someone else like he was suggesting or perhaps (just maybe) Lando actually liked you too? There was only one way to find out. 

So without a shred of warning you flipped over on to your back. Caution was well and truly flung into the wind. His big thick thighs did nothing to stop you if he even had the time to register what you had just done. You weren’t usually the type to be bold like this. You were actually quite reserved and hadn’t ever intentionally flashed anyone before but as Lando’s eyes dipped quickly from yours down toward your boobs you felt a strange confidence grasp hold of you.

“I can help you with it, if you want?” You knew the line felt like you were in some bad porno the second you said it. It sounded weird and completely and utterly unsexy. But really, what else could you have said that would have sounded any better? Lando didn’t react at first – probably too stunned from having his friend semi naked in front of him to register what the hell you had just come out with – but his features softened before your very eyes as he cottoned on to what you were implying.

“Really?” His voice did that high-pitched thing it did when he couldn’t tell if someone was taking him on a ride or not but then there was a small faint recognition of a signature Lando smirk that told you he knew exactly what was going on. So instead of a verbal queue you gave him a physical one. Your hands went to his thighs and as shaky as they were in the seconds before touching his skin – God bless him for wearing shorts – they steadied as soon as they touched him. Slipping up to his waist he didn’t move as your hands danced along the waistband of the cotton comfies he was wearing. Lando made no sign of disapproval as your hands finally made contact with the growing tent that had formed inside his clothes. In fact, he let out a wobbly sigh as you palmed over him. You didn’t know where in the hell your newfound boldness came from but you liked it and were determined to embrace it. You weren’t sure if this was a sudden, unexpected attraction to you that Lando was feeling based on just needing to feel a girls touch or if it had been a closeted attraction that had built to an undeniable crescendo over the past few years but either way, you didn’t care. Your fingertips dipped inside his waistband and you watched as he swallowed. Your name tumbled once again from his lips and you waited on him calling for you to stop but the call never came.

“I’m supposed to be making you feel good…” He croaked as he opened his eyes and looked down at you again. “You are. This does.” Desperately you wanted him to know that you wanted this, you wanted him, more than you could ever express.

Thankfully, Lando took the hint and in an almost blink and you’ll miss it fashion he knocked out his knees so he was lying on top of you, his hand tenderly positioned on your cheek.

“You really want too?” He double-checked for your consent – sexy, you thought – and you nodded at him.

“I’ve wanted too for years, Lando.” You confessed and you could see the moment of realisation hit him before it filled him with cocky confidence. You had hidden your crush for far too long and now you were finally getting exactly what you wanted. The excitement could make your head explode. Your stomach flipped at the thought but he gave you no time to register it because without warning he kissed you. His lips caressed yours with passionate haste. Finally, after all this time you knew what he tasted like. His tongue dipped into your mouth and stroked yours in a testing the water type manner that was just so, well, Lando. You found yourself grabbing the back of his head, winding your fingers into his dark curls as you went, just so he knew how serious you were. The action didn’t go unnoticed by him and you felt the faint smile appear on his mouth as your tongue danced with his. Lando responded by grabbing your thigh and pulling it up around his waist. It was with that action you knew he knew what he was doing as it gave him the perfect angle to grind against your core - giving himself a faint whisper of release - which almost had you gasping straight into his mouth.

The next few actions seemed too quick to even comprehend. They were like some kind of dance sequence. You removed his t-shirt. He removed your sweats and panties (commenting on how wet you were as if he wasn’t expecting it). You pulled down his shorts and boxers, which prompted him to take them off for himself. He reached into the bedroom drawer for a condom and he didn’t hesitate handing it to you to put on him.

“I’ve wanted this since the day we met.” His confession was just that, a confession, and you were his priest. It was the moment you felt fulfilled. You felt like his truth was yours too. You weren’t crazy thinking his glances, his touches and how close he was to you was something more and wasn’t just friendship. And you refused the devil on your shoulder whispering in your ear that he was just telling you what you wanted to hear because he knew you would believe him and he could get his leg over. You believed Lando and even if this only happened once, it was indeed happening, so you were intent on enjoying it. 

With the thought of enjoying this ringing around your head, you finished your task of sheathing him with the protective latex. As soon as you were done he slid himself up and down your sensitive, wet folds and your hands ran up from his chest to his neck so you could raise his eyes to yours. You wanted to look at the perfect green orbs you obsessed over when he finally connected your bodies and pushed into you. Which he did almost immediately. At first it took you a few moments to overcome the stretch. He was bigger than you would have thought. He was average in length but made up for it in girth and seeing as you hadn’t had sex in such a long time that you felt the deep, dull aching sting from being so tight around his cock all over your body.

“Ok?” He whispered against your semi parted lips. You kissed back as he rolled his hips, slipping himself out before back in, while you were distracted. He kept distracting you with his mouth – and his hands, one of which creeping up to your boob and playing with your sensitive peaked nipple – as he slowly began getting into rhythm. It was you that broke the kiss to moan when you finally felt the effects his pace was having upon you. Enjoyment and pre-satisfaction began grabbing you with both hands as Lando groaned into your ear. God, this was what you had deprived yourself of for two years by not acting upon your infatuation with him. You were so stupid in not telling him how you felt.

Lando felt like heaven. He felt like sheer and utter heaven inside of you. There was nothing in the world that felt better than him fucking you like you had never been fucked before. His pace had picked up from the slow, sensual style it started out like in the beginning to a quicker, steady beat that had you clawing your nails into his shoulders while you panted in his ear. You would have been happy enough for him to continue in the position and pace he was already in but a squeal left you as he suddenly, without a shred of warning, lifted your body so you were sat in his lap. Lotus was what you thought this position was called but honestly, your brain had been reduced to Lando shaped pulp that you couldn’t even make a proper assessment.  

“Is this ok?” He asked as he pushed your hair back away from your face. He wanted to look at you while he was inside of you, and that clearly meant connection. Lando wanted to be connected to you. “Yes.” You breathe out on a sigh “more than.” Upon your words Lando’s hands went down to your ass. He squeezed as you smiled. He used his hands position on your butt to help guide you, move you, into a pace that worked for both of you. At first the only thing you could focus on was how deep he felt inside of you still you realised how the other parts of you were grinding against him. Your clit grazed his base with every stroke and you realised he had been thinking about your pleasure the whole time. Lando was better at this whole thing than you ever thought possible.

“Does that feel good?” His brain was working in tandem with yours and you nodded enthusiastically while the sensation began to flood your nerves. Your hands clung on to his shoulders before they wound into his hair. His lips ghosted across the flesh of your neck as he let low, earth moving rumbles erupt through his throat.

His name struggled through your lips as he hit the spot inside you over, over, over and over again. Your mind went blank and you finally understood what women all over the world raved about. The guys you had been with before had never actually found anywhere near the spot and you had spent too long saying, “right there” when you didn’t even know where “there” was. Lando found it. He knew where it was instantly and what more he staked his claim of ownership of it. You came like it the first time you ever had. It felt deeper, more intense and more authentic than you had experienced when you had done it alone, in your room, with your battery-operated friend. His body flushed against yours as he held you against himself. Your thighs twitched and a feeling of sparks tingled all over. From the ends of your fingers to the tips of your toes you felt the orgasm Lando had given you consume your being.

He slowed his pace but he kept moving you; back and forth, back and forth, searching for his own high. You thought of ways you could aid him but you didn’t need too as his own high crashed down upon him fast after yours. His forehead tensed, his body went ridged under your touch and his teeth clenched so tightly you thought they might break. Your name teetered right on the tip of his tongue when he finally let his mouth fall open as he released his milky seed into the condom. His sweaty forehead pressed to yours and in that moment it dawned on you that you never wanted this moment to end. You wanted to stay right here – in the post orgasm high – with Lando for as long as you lived. No one could make you feel better than he did. No guy could live up to him. Lando had ruined you for the whole of mankind.

His hand came upon your cheek as he kissed you deeply after he regained control of his breathing. “How is your neck?” You had totally forgotten all about what lead you into this in the first place. You were drunk, high and having such an outer body experience that you couldn’t feel a thing.

“Ask me when I’m not still thinking about that orgasm.” You joked. It made him smirk widely as if it had been a job well done – as if he had just won the race here in Monaco.

“Do you want another one?” He asked cockily and you burst out laughing at how you almost instantly leaped at the offer - Yes. A million times yes - And it was in that very moment you knew there was no possibility of either of you regretting this. You knew that regardless of what happened between you there was a bond with him that you had never felt with another guy before. Friends to lovers might have been the trope in the book you picked up in the airport. But you didn’t have to read it to experience it. You hoped this was your romance novel come true.       

[eveningepiphany]

hotel room | H.S

summary: harry & Y/N are friends but it’s a love hate relationship with so much tension you can hardly breathe. this tension isn’t any better when they get stuck in a hotel room together for the night. and it only has one bed.

warnings: SMUT! hand job (f+m receiving), PIV unprotected, sloppy morning sex, teasing, swearing, praise, friends to lovers.

A/N:I have opened my requests! and I’d love to write some from you guys, so send them in here <3

———

“So there’s only… definitely only one room for us?” I say slowly, and the lady behind the counter nods.

“Y/N,” Harry says, “we’ve shared a room before—“

“I’m so sorry the inconvenience— Since the multitude of delayed flights from the storm we’ve had an unexpected influx of last-minute bookings…” her hands are zipping along the keyboard as she is clearly under the pump.

“You’ve been booked under a single room.” She glances up, face turned up apologetically, confirming.

I nod, knowing there’s so many other people needing somewhere to stay right now, there’s no point being picky.

It’s just one night.

Because Harry and I live in the same part of the UK, we usually catch the same planes to and from when we get short breaks from touring with the band.

So of course we flew out for our Australian leg of the tour several hours ago and got stuck at our layover destination, Abu Dhabi.

The storm rolled in quick, putting hour— even day long— delays on flights. So now people are scrambling to book hotels for the next few nights.

Luckily our management got on it as soon as we’d called them about the delay of out flight, but I suppose they only could get us the one room for two.

We get our room key and head up the elevator to the 7th floor.

When we walk into the room there is a single queen bed in the centre of it, and I glance at Harry out the corner of my eye. We are always close to one another being in the band, but never “share a bed” close.

“Don’t stress.” He says.

“I’m not stressed.” I quip.

“Yes you are, don’t try and bullshit me.”

“Harry, we’re adults it’s fine.”

“Hardly adults.” He chuckles.

I scoff at his constant digs, there is a fineline of how much Harry I can tolerate in a day and we are really pushing it.

“Well if you think that then I implore you to take the couch.” I know just by looking at the couch he’d hardly fit on it, and I’m not that much of an asshole to let that happen.

“Oooh, you’re just trying t’get the bed all to yourself? Bloody bed hog.”

I open my bag up, pulling out fresh clothes and my toiletries, “Was just providing you the options. I’m going to shower.”

“Too bad if I wanted one first.” He sighs dramatically, with a little smirk that usually indicates he’s teasing.

“Too bad indeed.” I smile sarcastically at him as I shut the door.

It’s so nice to wash away the gross feeling that sticks to your skin after long flights like we just had.

When I come out of the bathroom he’s laying in the bed, crisp white doona pulled back.

“Dude you’re getting airport germs in the bed.”

He glances up from his phone, eyeing me for a split second— I’m just in sleep shorts and a plain tshirt.

“It’s fine, I’ll just have this side.” He replies, a smile breaking out over his face.

He leaves me no room to respond as he stands up, “im gonna have a shower as well, and then we can order room service, how’s that sound?”

I nod, “I’ll get the menu and have a read through.”

It’s weird how we one minute can’t stop sarcastically niggling and the next we’re back to being normal friends.

I browse through their relatively large menu as the shower runs in the background. If I strain, I can hear Harry gently humming.

I’m happy to see my favourite foods on there… and heaps of deserts.

He comes out shortly after while I’m still reading the menu, and he’s clad in only grey sweatpants, adorning damp hair.

I choose to tear my eyes away from his bare chest, “I’ve figured out what I want to get, have a read through.”

I chucked him the menu and he comes to sit down next to me on the bed.

Im surprised we don’t end up in another debate about the sleeping arrangements, but I think we’re both so exhausted from the flight. The 8 hour plane trip settling deep into our bones.

“They have y’favourite.” He says with a smile playing on his lips.

“Yea, I’m so glad. It’s all I’m craving right now.”

“What are you gonna get?” I lean to look over his shoulder at the menu.

“Maybe I’ll try their tacos?”

“I’m gonna order some of the desert stuff too.”

“Y’gonna be so full.” He laughs.

“It’ll be worth it.” I say, as I stand up to go over to the phone on the desk in the corner of the room.

I ring up and order an unnecessary amount of stuff before giving them our room number and hoping back into bed.

It’s so cozy, and if it weren’t for the food I knew was coming, I’d probably curl up and fall asleep straight away.

We lay together, talking about the plan for the next few days until the food gets delivered with a knock on the door.

I get up to open it, taking the trays of food from the kind waiter.

He groans, “God it smells good.”

We both spread the dishes of food on the bed and quickly start eating.

The TV starts playing reruns of friends, the episode where Ross makes the paste with his leather pants, trying to get them up.

We’re both tearing up with laughter, stuffing our faces with our first proper meal since dinner on the plane over 5 hours ago.

“Holy shit.” He says, and we’re are letting out fits of giggles, as Ross says “—and the lotion and the powder have made a paste…”

“I swear— why did he listen to joey.” I scoff, shoving a bite of food into my mouth.

“No, because the way it just keeps getting worse.” He buries his face into his hands with a pained grin.

We watch a few of the episodes that were playing, sharing the last of the chocolate cookies that I’d ordered.

I stood up to move all the trays our food came on over to the small kitchen bench, leaving them for the morning.

“That was so yum.” I sigh out, content and full.

I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and finish up my night routine, ready to honestly just go to sleep.

I come out with a small smile on my lips, excited to get back into bed where it’s cozy. Slipping back under the crisp white sheets, Harry turns off the TV.

The room is now dark, “fuck… can’t see now— I gotta brush m’teeth as well.”

“Have my phone.” I chuck it in his general direction, and clonk him straight in the side.

“Ouch.” He huffs, grabbing it and turning the flash on.

He pads over to the bathroom while I roll my eyes at how dramatic he is.

He turns the lights on in there, coming back over to give me my phone now that he can see.

I text a few of my immediate family members to let them know we’d settled into our hotel, choosing to leave out the fact we’re sharing a bed.

I mean assuming that’s what the plan is. I highly doubt he wants to sleep on the couch.

Being the only female in a band of boys leads to lots of assumptions throughout my family unit. Especially with Harry.

They mistake our arguments as ‘pent-up sexual frustration’. Which is far from how I like to think of it.

He steps out from the bathroom, and I turn my torch on so he can flick the light off.

He scrapes a hand over his face, looking to me with tired eyes.

The hotel was relatively quiet now, only a few drunken laughs echoing down the hallway as it nears 12am.

He climbs back into the bed, pulling the covers over himself.

I tug my pillow down a bit before turning off my flash.

“Y’tired?” He asks quietly, sounding already kind of groggy.

I hum in agreement, rolling to face him. It’s quiet a few beats.

I can just make out his outline next to me,

I can feel the warmth of his body from where I’m laying. And it feels like I’m being enveloped by it in a strange— yet lovely way.

The thought floats around in my head, images conjuring from the darkness.

I blame this on the 8 hour flight and sleep deprivation.

Usually I can ignore it, but as much as he’s a proper pain in the ass sometimes, I’d have to be visually impaired to say he wasn’t good looking.

And hell he’s laying in the same bed as me without a shirt on.

“Y’staring at me.” He chuckles softly, and I startle a little.

“How can you even see me?” I ask, amused.

“I can’t, can just feel it.”

“As if you can feel it.” I scoff, “I’ll roll over if my eyes being on you makes you too uncomfortable.”

“No, no, wait come back.” He whines as I start to move.

I huff out a laugh, and roll back over to him.

I keep my eyes shut, “better?”

He whispers a yes, and I smile.

I keep that very smile as I drift off, listening to Harry’s slow breathes from beside me, allowing them to lull me to sleep.

———

I can only half remember waking up.

I was warm, heavy, and I felt his body before I saw it.

My eyes had only opened a tiny bit—there was light creeping through the thin curtains, making his unruly hair just visible.

My leg was thrown over his hip, and I was pressed right into his chest. We were fully intertwined, and fuck did it feel nice.

I close my eyes again, I can feel his morning wood. My heart jumps a little in my chest. Maybe I can just roll over— pretend I didn’t feel it, and go back to sleep.

I carefully strain to make the movement, but I instead get pulled closer to him.

He pushes himself against me, a sigh slipping from his nose, and I realise moving may have been a bad idea.

“Fuck…” I hear him mutter against my hair, bucking his hips up again.

“Harry.” I say, voice croaky with sleep. Of course this does nothing.

I have no idea how awake he is, I’m not even fully awake yet. But Jesus, this feels better than it should.

I feel like a horrific person for enjoying the way his clothed-length is pressed into me. But by god I am not strong enough to remove myself from this situation.

“Harry, wake up.” I groaned, squirming a little in his grasp.

He seems to come to it, just enough to realise whatever the fuck is happening in a couple seconds.

“Y/N…? Fuck. what is—“ I feel his body tense underneath me as it hits him, and he probably feels his boner pressed between my legs.

His hand flys up to my thigh that’s resting on his hip, “Holy shit—“

“It’s fine, H.” I whisper, and I’m not really sure why I say that, or what I’m implying by doing so.

Or what it means paired with the fact I haven’t protested to his dick practically grinding against my cunt.

“What do you mean?” He asks, groggily.

“Not sure.” I confess, whimpering a little as he still is hard underneath me. I push into him a bit out of unspoken desire and I hear him swallow.

He doesn’t say anything as he slides his hand up my leg, cupping it on my ass.

I glance up to see his face, his eyes still half-lidded, and his cheeks have a gentle flush to them.

I feel myself getting wetter as he keeps rubbing himself along my thin sleep shorts.

He moans a bit, and I slip my hand between us to palm his cock through his sweatpants.

“This ok? Want me to help you out a bit?”

“God— yes please…” he groans.

I push it underneath his waistband, tugging him out.

He’s heavy and hot in my hand. Glancing down, its bigger than I expected. The tip is flush and red, glistening with the damp beads of precum. Hardly surprising he’s got such a pretty cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ— look at y’little hand wrapped ‘round me.” He swears.

I slowly squeeze the head of it, and that quickly has him bucking into my palm.

His own hand travels between my sleep shorts, “Mind i return the favour?”

I hum in agreement, but he doesn’t do anything, “Gotta hear you say it, tell me what you want.”

I roll my eyes, of course he’s like this in bed, wants to hear how bad I want him.

“What do you want me to say to you Harry? How bad I want your fingers in my wet cunt right now, or how I want you to fuck my clit with your tongue?”

“Want my tongue do you? Because yes that’s exactly what I’d like to hear.” He says, smirking as he dips his hand under my shorts, running his fingers through me.

“No panties… been next to me all night with your pussy so easily accessible. Such a little slut.”

He collects my arousal, carrying it up to my swollen clit. I moan with the action, trying to keep my hand pumping rhythmically.

This proves to be a challenge, as he’s very clearly skilled with his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Hardly even touched you.”

“Been grinding your dick into me for a bit, actually.” I hiss as he slips a finger into me.

“Sorry, Baby. Did my hard cock get you all worked up?” He teases, and I hate the fact that he’s right.

I give a particularly hard squeeze and he grunts, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He quickens the pace of his fingers, fucking them in and out of me.

“Hard to hate me when I’m making you feel so good, hm?” He kisses my forehead, curling his fingers in me.

I cry out. Fuck— I was going to come.

“Wait, wait, wait— don’t wanna come yet, please…” I clench my thighs around his hand and it stills.

I look up at him, his green eyes burning with desire.

He doesn’t say anything, just leans his head down and places a wet kiss on my lips.

He keeps his fingers pumping slowly in and out of me as we start to kiss.

He brings me close to coming again a few times, just to tease me, but he keeps his focus on my lips— pulling my bottom one between his and sucking on it.

It’s messy and sloppy, edges of it blurred from the morning haze still over us.

“Harry.” I say into his mouth, legs shaking a little.

“Want you in me.” It comes out of me as an unbridled thought.

“Jesus…” he murmurs, stunned by hearing the words fly out of me so openly.

He pulls his lips away, cock twitching in my hand, “you want…”

“You want me to fuck you?”

I nod, grabbing the hem of my shirt and slipping it off.

He’s enamoured by me, it’s clear in his eyes.

He reaches his hand up, out of my sleep shorts and he cups my breast with it gently.

He moves his mouth down to place gentle kissed over them.

“You’re perfect, yknow that?” He says against my skin, tugging me closer to him as I smile at the flattery.

“I’m on birth control too.” I state.

He glances up, and it appears I’ve shocked him yet again, “you wanna take me raw?”

I haven’t gone without I condom in ages… but I trust him.

“We’re both clean, right? I trust you.”

He smiles, “I’m clean. As long as your sure.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been surer of something.

He pulls my sleep shorts off, and I help shuck his sweats the rest of the way down his legs.

We’re warm between the sheets, and he’s peppering open-mouthed kisses along my neck as he lines himself up with me.

He locks eyes with me as he pushes in, and both of us moan at the feeling.

“Fuck— you’re tight.” He squeezes his hands on my hips.

I am blinded with the pleasure of him filling me up, I can’t even think about how bad an idea this could be.

“Feels so good, H.” I groan, scraping my nails along his chest.

“Can feel you clenching around me.” He reaches a hand down to play with my clit.

He’s gonna make me come embarrassingly quick— especially considering he sort of edged me a bit while we were kissing.

He was thrusting into me, a perfect pace to have me squirming in his arms.

I can tell he’s getting close, my name flying out his mouth paired with vulgar words and moans.

“I- fuck- I’m not gonna be able to drag this out if you keeping squeezing m’cock like that.” He pants.

“I’m close, so just come with me.” I plead, the thought of him finishing with me adding fuel to the fire in the pit of my stomach.

“God H, I’m gonna come— hard.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, keep talking.” He says, his skin slapping into mine, chasing his orgasm.

“You’re so pretty.” I blurt, spewing the first thing that comes to mind as I look at him.

He really is, his hair is tousled from sleep and my hands, his eyes half lidded from pleasure and tattooed chest slightly damp.

He swears, bottoming out and coming hard without warning. His hand circles my clit fast, bringing my crashing down with him.

“Harry!” I cry, burying my head into the crook of his neck as I ride out the waves of pleasure.

“Good girl, Y/N.” He groans, still thrusting into me trying to prolong his orgasms.

The high slowly ebbs away, and he stays in me for a bit. Nothing but the sounds of our laboured breathing filling the room.

I think we don’t know what to say, after something like that happens— when it all comes on instinct and you’re without any clue on what it changes.

Our dynamic, though it was a love-hate kind of thing, it was a consistent one. You knew what to expect. Now that this has happened…

“I have no idea what you’re thinking right now.” He whispers, “and that kind of scares me.”

I lay quietly for a few heartbeats, “just… that was really good. And I’m not 100% prepared for what might happen after this, y’know. To us I guess.”

“Well. To keep it simple, I really like you— and that was some of the best sex I’ve ever had so…” he trails off, unsure where to go with the sentence.

“Ok— so this isn’t gonna ruin our friendship?” I sigh in a bit of relief.

“Of course not,” he pulls back to look at me, and a smile spreads across his face, “after all, we are adults.”

———

[illicitlimerence-writes]

this feeling | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x best friend!reader word count: 2k words request: nope, at least i don’t think so. prompt: my birthday party is in full swing but it’s too much for me right now, so I grab a bottle of wine and go up to the rooftop. that’s where you find me eventually. found here! warnings: talks about anxiety, social anxiety and themes like that. also, drinking. a/n: it’s my birthday! and as a gift, for both me and you, here’s a 100% self indulgent fic. hope you like it!

my masterlist

never a big fan of her birthday, it wasn’t a surprise when her surprise party turned a little too overwhelming for her. she was happy her closest friends were there, even some of her best friend’s friends, who eventually became her own.

charles had been the best friend anyone could ever ask for. having known each other since their teenage years, when he was still in f2. because of her father’s job they’d been invited to the f1 abu dhabi grand prix, and it was also the last race in his category.

whilst her father was more focused on the main event, she was interested in the junior category, too. mainly because there were less people gathered around to watch it, which helped with her anxiety when she was around big crowds.

she’d met charles after his race win, he was surrounded by his friends and family, and someone grabbed the bottle of champagne from his hand and started spraying it at him, but she was caught in the crossfire as she was walking by right at that moment. she couldn’t help but yelp, which caught their attention.

“sorry!” charles’ little brother, arthur, said as he took a step back and gave the bottle to the oldest leclerc, lorenzo.

“uhh, no worries,” she sighed, looking down at her wet jacket. it was useless to have it on to try and fight the night chilly wind, so she took it off and held it in her hand as she turned around to walk away.

“hey, wait,” someone caught up to her. she turned her head, seeing charles in front of her a shy smile on her face, “i’m so sorry about my brother, it’s just… the euphoria and all-”

“it’s okay. i saw the race, it was really good. congratulations.” she said, and at that moment a particularly cold gust of wind made her shiver, “i have to go.”

“thanks. um, here-” he zipped down his own jacket, filled with the team and sponsor’s logos. “take this, so you don’t get cold.”

“oh, uh, there’s no need, really-”

“please, i insist,” she sighed, looking down at his hand.

“okay. thank you,” she smiled, taking it and putting it on. she had to bite back the smile that was threatening to appear on her face as the warmth of his jacket enveloped her.

“i- i’m charles, by the way.” he said, extending his hand. she smiled, shaking it.

“(y/n),” she said.

and that was it. they’d ran into each other later that day, while the f1 race was going on, since everyone was gathered at the same spot to watch the race, it left the paddock free to wander around. charles called her name, and they talked the entire time, he opened up to her and she did the same, they exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch.

flash forward five years later, she hugged charles as a group of fifteen people surprised her in charles’ apartment. it was the only place she’d agree to go without being suspicious. plus, it was where she was staying for her week in monaco.

“thank you, cha,” she smiled, rising to her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“ah, it’s nothing. only the best for the best,” he poked her sides, emitting an adorable yelp followed by giggles. she was quickly approached by her friends waiting there.

throughout their years of friendship charles insisted she visited him at least once every two months, which caused her to start getting to know people on her own and expanding her friend group in that small country.

she said hello to everyone, and felt a small pang in her chest when she received a few gifts. she didn’t like the idea of people feeling pressured or forced to spend time and money on her, but the people there made her forget about that thought for a little while.

it wasn’t until two hours later, when her shoulders started feeling tense, that she knew it was time to take a step back. she slid into the kitchen, opening the fridge door and grabbing her bottle of wine. even though charles lived a life full of luxuries, in which he could buy the most expensive things known to mankind, she always made sure to bring him down to earth. her favorite way was making him go to the grocery store and buy the cheapest bottle of wine he could find. a sweet rose that she’d grown to love throughout the years.

she slipped away unnoticed, everyone was too caught up in a story charles’ friend, pierre was saying. besides the harbor and charles’ apartment, the rooftop in his building was one of her favorite places in monte carlo. it overlooked everything, it had a 360 view of the entirety of monaco, and the night sky.

she stood by the edge, opening the bottle and taking a sip of the sweet wine. she smiled as she thought to everything they’d done that day, from a short ride on his yacht where they enjoyed breakfast, to a walk around, visiting her favorite shops and spots. and a nice dinner before making their way to her surprise party.

she was so lucky to have someone like charles as her best friend. he was so selfless, always putting people before himself, showing his love and appreciation for the people he cared about in any way he could. the monegasque was caring. there was no other way to describe him.

charles laughed as he remembered the anecdote pierre was telling, the frenchman loved having all the attention on him, and he knew how to keep a crowd entertained. charles looked to the kitchen, where he’d last spotted her, but couldn’t find her. he thought that maybe she was feeling hungry and wanted something small, so he stood up and went to the guest bedroom, knowing she didn’t like having people watching her eat. he looked for her everywhere, and looked at his watch once he realized she was gone.

it had been too long since her last alone time to recharge. he decided to wait a few minutes before going to the rooftop, wanting her to get enough time to think about her day and get ready to come back. it took him about five months to really get to know her, to understand her quirks, the things she did when she was nervous, stressed, happy. after that, he only had to look at her to know what she was feeling. he could read her like a book.

once charles decided it was time, he took the elevator up to the rooftop, she’d told him many times before that the view relaxed her, something about the way she could see everything but no one could see her.

“thief,” he called her, walking to her, “you stole my wine.”

“it’s my wine, you just bought it,” she chuckled, smiling at him. “how did you know?” she asked.

“it took you longer than i thought, i’m proud of you,” he said, throwing an arm over her shoulders.

“thanks, i think the amount of people, and the people themselves, really helped.” charles nodded, he’d been afraid that fifteen might be a lot for her, but she loved each and every one of them. “we’re improving,” she said, even though it might seem like she was the one who was improving on her social skills, this was a team effort.

“i’m happy to hear that.” he leaned in, touching her head with his. “did you enjoy your day?” he asked, a smile on his face as he waited expectantly.

“yeah, thank you so much, cha,” she looked up at him, a grin on her face. “i loved today.”

“good,” he said, nodding to himself, making a mental note of everything they’d done that day and storing it in the ‘approved’ folder in his head. “we still need to cut the cake,” he nudged her hip with his, a playful gesture that told her they still needed to go back downstairs, but whenever she felt ready.

“you got me a cake?” she asked, bringing the bottle up to her lips.

“obviously! it’s not a birthday without cake.”

“not necessarily,” she said, handing him the bottle, “this whole day felt like a birthday, a good birthday-” she pointed out, “and there was no cake involved until now,”

“so you’re saying you don’t want that red velvet beauty from that place you like?” he said after drinking some of the wine, placing the bottle on the floor. her eyes widened at his words, that was quite possibly her favorite thing on earth, besides charles.

“i’m just saying… you don’t need a birthday to enjoy some good cake, and a birthday is more than that, it’s about the people and the love.” she said, turning so her back was against the ledge.

“did you feel loved today?” he asked. charles walked in front of her, placing his hands on either side of her.

“i did, yeah.” she nodded, a soft smile on her lips. charles grinned, too, and noticed her eyes flicking down to his lips. “and i loved spending most of the day with you, and everything you did for me. it really made me feel… loved.” she’d paused a little before saying the last word, the tone in her voice changed, it was lower… shy.

it took charles a few seconds to try and recognize what she was feeling, but he’d never seen her like this before. this was new, it was… vulnerable, open.

“you are. so loved. by me and everyone downstairs, and many more.” she gave him a tight lipped smile, nodding.

“i know, it just… nevermind, i’m not making any sense because of the booze and the sleep,” she chuckled, trying to move, escape his caging arms, but he didn’t budge. “let’s go back downstairs, i’m sure now that we’re both gone they’ll notice.”

“okay, but- we’re having this conversation later,” he said.

“sure,” she smiled, placing her hands on his shoulders. she stood up on her tiptoes and again, pressed a kiss to his cheek. “we should go back now,” she said, but felt charles’ hands on her waist.

“wait. just… i can’t read you.” he confessed.

“what?” she frowned.

“what is going on in your mind? i- i don’t… i’ve never seen this look in your face. what are you feeling?” she felt her throat closing, she was aware of how much charles knew her, but him admitting that just by looking at her he could tell what she was feeling… it brought a chill down her back.

“i don’t- don’t really know.” she admitted. “i just know that i’ve never felt anything like this before.”

she paused, staring into charles’ eyes, which seemed to shine like the stars lighting up the sky behind him.

“well… make sure to tell me once you figure it out.” he pleaded.

“is… it’s really that important? what if i don’t feel like this ever again?”

“then we’ll have to work on it. try everything so you have this same look on your face again.” he said, sounding completely serious. she wanted to laugh, it was almost funny how wrapped up in this mystery he was.

“okay. deal.” she agreed, for him.

“good.” he nodded, dropping his hands from her waist, reaching for her hands. “we really should go down now,” he started walking backwards, leading her to the elevator.

“you’re gonna fall,” she laughed, grabbing his elbows to help support him.

“you’ve gotta catch me, then,” he smiled, leaning against the wall as they waited for the elevator.

“fine. deal.”

-

charles looked at everyone, as they sang happy birthday and she smiled. she was feeling uncomfortable with so many eyes on her but they were all good people, people she trusted and loved. her eyes met charles’, an amused smile on his face as everybody gave their best performance of the simple song.

she raised his eyebrows, an action she’d picked up from him, in a way that said ‘it’s not fancy, but it’s what i have and i wouldn’t change it’.

he just smiled, and kept staring at her even after she looked away. there it was. that same look in her eyes. what was it?

as the song came to an end, it was time to make a wish. she thought hard about it. as she looked around the room, and met charles’ eyes briefly, she knew.

i wish to know what i’m feeling.

[itsasainz]

passionfruit | pierre gasly x reader

Summary: You’re pulling away, so is he. Neither of you can blame the other, it’s just the natural progression of things.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings/tags: anxiety, breakdown of a relationship, angst, minor implications of some mental health difficulties

a/n: never written for pierre, but here I am writing all this in a few hours. I don't know where this came from lmao. requests open <3

masterlist!

Listen

Seein’ you got ritualistic

Cleansin’ my soul of addiction for now

‘Cause I’m fallin’ apart, yeah

He can pinpoint the moment you realised you’d reached a stagnant point in your relationship with him to the minute; it had been early December — he had spent the fortnight after Abu Dhabi sorting everything out with Alpine, having wrapped things up with AlphaTauri within days of the last race. You’d flown back to London on the Tuesday after the race, leaving him in the Middle East with his new team — you still had a job, you’d reminded him, and that he’d see you in two weeks when he came to London to see you. It would be your third Christmas together, and you were spending it in France with him. Three weeks together, the longest you’d have spent together consecutively in months. He remembers the realisation in your voice, the two of you stood in a cramped South London flat you hated; still refusing to move to Milan.

“Pierre, we’ve had this planned for weeks.” you had said — there was no malice in your tone, a surprising lack of your usual heat. He remembers it striking him more deeply than he’d anticipated — the disappointment, and the overwhelming loneliness in your voice.

“Mon ange, there’s nothing I can do. It’s a team thing, I can’t start missing them before I’m even a proper member of the team.”

Your eyes never left his, a sense of judgement in the furrow of your brow. “Is Esteban going?”

He opened his mouth to say something, then a flicker of doubt arose. He’d thought he wasn’t, but now he thinks about it, the Frenchman had been discussing it with Elena only days ago. “I think so.”

“Then they’ve got one driver, they don’t need two. You’re double booked, and we’ve had this planned for weeks.”

He’d sighed — you understood exactly why he couldn’t just cancel, and he now understands that you wanted him to confirm to you that you were also a priority, and that he wasn’t only focused on work. He remembers the way you’d looked away from him, tears threatening to spill; it had felt disproportionate in the moment — crying because he couldn’t make it to dinner with your friends who he barely knew was dramatic. Now, he regrets his dismissal.

You’re asleep beside him, turned away, as curled up as you can be in a plane seat. He’d been surprised when you’d told him you were still coming to Bahrain, and then embarrassed that he’d assumed you wouldn’t come; did he really think that poorly of your relationship?

He’d realised, in his travels through January and February, his days away from you, that he can only really breathe when he’s with you; now though, you seem further away, like he’s never quite with you, even when he’s sitting inches away from you. He wonders if the closest you get these days is during sex, and hates the idea that nearly three years of your relationship might have come down to sex being the most emotional you can be with him. When was the last time you told him about your work anxieties or, for that matter, any of your actual emotions, deeper than a dismissive comment about being stressed or simply fine.

Appearances are maintained at the airport and the hotel, where you smile and kiss his friends on each cheek, laughing and joking with them like you’re not down, like you’re not avoiding his conversation. It persists into the weekend itself — you spend more time with Isa than with him, chatting in hospitality until he’s done, and then seem to immediately shut down, even if he knows you’ve had a good day. You’re brief with your affection until, seemingly suddenly on Friday evening, as he’s skipping through channels on the TV in the hotel room, you wrap yourself around him, ear pressed to his heart, breathing soft and hands cold. He’s puzzled, almost upset by your sudden affection, but he leaves his thoughts at a kiss to your temple. He falls asleep with you on top of him, your shampoo filling his senses.

The next day, after Quali, you apologise for his poor luck. Again, he finds himself blindsided; you’ve never been one to apologise for that which you can’t control. He turns it over in his head all night, once again finding your affection puzzling, and his reaction to it even more confusing, and decides he’s overthinking it. You fall asleep in his arms less often than he’d like, and he’s got to make the most of it.

Sunday has a stranger vibe still. You’re withdrawn, and he can probably count the words you share on his fingers. It’s impossible to know how to deal with it, or what to do or say to fix it. It’s that thought that he gets stuck on in the media pen after the race — what if it can’t be fixed? What if it’s not his responsibility to fix it?

When Charles asks if you’re coming out after the race, Pierre responds for you, given your absence. “No,” he says, “I think she’d rather stay in tonight.”

“Are you staying in?” Charles frowns. It’s admittedly unusual for Pierre to want to come out on nights like these without you at his side.

“Nah, I’m coming.” he assures his friend, leaving you a text to say he won’t be home until late.

Tension

Between us just like picket fences

You got issues that I won’t mention for now

‘Cause we're fallin’ apart

You want to say; points are impressive given where you started. You want to say; I’m proud of you. You want to see him, at the very least, but other than the ten minutes he spared for you after the race, you’ve barely spoken to him. His text is glaring up at you, a cruel joke.

He doesn’t want you here.

It’s the most logical explanation; he nearly jumped when you started cuddling on Friday, and barely any words have been shared. At least if you’re not speaking you’re not arguing. It doesn’t help that you’re down as it is, feeling like your brain has been fried by travelling and anxiety and the overwhelming feeling that you’re at the end of a chapter in your life. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t asked, hasn’t probed to find out more about your current state.

It’s not his responsibility, you keep reminding yourself, he’s your boyfriend, not your parent. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though. The debate has been circling your mind for hours. If he cares so much, why doesn’t he say anything when you’re like this. If you’re as grown as you think you are, why are you so dependent on his care?

There's a nineties RomCom on the TV — you leave it on in the background while you scroll back through your texts with Pierre, wondering when it got like this, when he started to feel so distant. Who started it? Is it possible to say it was either one of you? Is it salvageable?

A thought of breaking up passes through your mind, snagging on unwelcome thoughts. You know that of the two and a half, nearly three, years that Pierre has been your boyfriend, more than two of those years were blissful. But the past months are tainting it — if you were to break up, would your memories of his love be marred by how lacking it feels in these moments?

The thought that snags, catching like cotton on barbed wire, is that perhaps you have wasted the first half of your twenties being in love with a man who cannot love you like you need him to. You think of the nights out you’d vetoed to spend an evening with him, of the opportunities you’d passed on to be around when he was in London, or the things you’d missed by constantly jetting off to Milan or whichever Grand Prix he was headed to. You think of the hours of your life you’ve spent in airports, anxious and tired, uprooting your life to spend 24 hours with him, to cry two nights later when he dropped you off for your flight home. You think of the years of your life you’ve spent caught between where your home was — with him, or with the rest of your life. It wasn’t a fair comparison. It wasn’t fair to resent him for something he had repeatedly provided solutions for.

Nevertheless, it felt clearer now. You didn’t feel settled in his company the way you always had — no, now you felt anxious. Anxious about being enough for him, about how good of a wag you were, or how good you were at being his girlfriend, at doing everything you felt you should.

Passionate from miles away

Passive with the things you say

Passin’ up on my old ways

I can’t blame you, no, no

It’s strange, you realise, that your communication with Pierre suddenly spiked the moment you were apart. How could you feel closer to him from 600 miles away than you did when you were right next to him?

He’d been texting lots, the two of you telling each other about your days again, complaining about rude colleagues or getting excited over the smallest of things. Over the phone, he’d listened while you talked about how you’d been down lately, worried about work and friends and, though you didn’t say it, him. He’s loving, and you return it in earnest. You miss him more than you care to admit, and for a few seconds at a time, you get the sense he misses you too. There’s no bickering, not a cruel word said.

You’re doing most of the talking, that much is also true. He listens, which feels like an achievement, but you still catch yourself wondering if he’s absorbing what you’re telling him, or if he still thinks about you when you’re not on the phone or texting. You don’t tell him you’ve been crying more than usual, or that your anxiety is through the roof, nor do you tell him that whenever you try to find the source of your anxiety, your mind finds to him like a compass finds north. You don’t tell him that you’re biting your nails again, or that you keep making mistakes at work.

Midweek, you’re in your kitchen, cutting a passionfruit in half on FaceTime. The pulp has covered your fingers, and you sit with a bowl under your hands, a spoon scooping the seeds out of the rind. For a minute he’s distracted by the fact that he’d forgotten your love for the fruit, and then wonders if they’re in season. He watches you eat a little, and continues what he was saying. He’s talking about the Saudi Grand Prix, about the logistics and some issues with his flight. A few weeks ago he’d mentioned that he wanted you to be there, but he’s avoiding talking about guests now, or Paddock Passes.

“Pierre,” you say, a deep breath.

“Yeah, love?”

“Do you want me there?”

There’s a long pause, stretching out before you. Does he want you?

“Do you want to be there?” he asks in return.

It’s like a kick to the gut. You don’t have it in you to answer, only a fear that if you open your mouth it’ll all spew out — the resentment, the fear, the anger you suddenly feel. You want to be there for him, and it feels like he’s just told you you’re no longer an important factor in his well being — no longer a person who makes him feel remotely good. What’s worse is that you think that, if that is true, it’s entirely justified. You’ve not been the easiest to be around lately, nor the most easily placated. He hangs up not long after, and you wish he couldn’t make you cry quite so easily.

Passionate from miles away

Passive with the things you say

Passin’ up on my old ways

I can’t blame you, no, no

It seems to Pierre that you are present in every spare second he has. Walking between meetings, pausing during training to take a drink — you’re there, in his mind, a constant reminder that he can’t breathe. Bahrain fucked with his head — suddenly, not even your presence eased his mind. You’ve always been easy to be around, aware of the dynamics and moods around you, always knowing what to say or what to do. You weren’t like that in Bahrain, you were quiet and withdrawn and a hundred miles away. The thought that circulates his head comes back stronger every time he thinks of you, misses you — is it him? Is he the issue?

That night in your flat, back in December, has been turned over in his head so many times he’s sure his retrospection has completely distorted the night, that his memory of it is more of a manifestation of all the possible ways he could have fucked up than a true representation of what happened. He’s trying to find time for you, responding to your texts the moment he has a free minute, FaceTiming you on his free evenings. He’s going to Enfield for a few days before he’s off to Jeddah, and the idea of getting to spend a few days with you is exciting, and yet somehow he’s dreading it.

He’s not sure how he’s gotten to this point, especially when he cares so deeply for you; his dread seems to root from the fear that he’s worse for you than he is good, and that is too scary a thought to address. He wants the best for you, he always has, and for years he thought he was that — something right, and something that made you feel better, happier, the way a loved one should. Now he's less sure that that’s true — he’s scared he’s draining, and the thought is pulling him away from you. What’s worse is the fact he knows, intuitively, that your feelings are mirroring his. How do you break out of this? How do you get back to a place where you are both confident in your love for one another, and assured in the fact that you are loved?

And then on Wednesday he’s watching you cut that passionfruit and he’s saying more than he has all week, getting the drama about travelling to Jeddah off his chest, scared to bring up the possibility of you coming with him in case you shut him down, and he has to go knowing you actively avoided coming. That’s when you drop the question, right as he’s stumbling over how not to get rejected if he asks you to come. He doesn’t want a repeat of the awkward silence that plagued you in Sakhir.

“Do you want me to be there?”

He doesn’t know what to say. Yes, God, he wants nothing more, but if you’re going to be quiet and cold like you were in Sakhir, he’d rather go without the stress of doubting himself and your relationship. He finds it strange that you’d ask — he would have you by his side every weekend if you’d let him, and he is certain you know that. In his head, the only explanation for your question is that you’re asking for a reason not to go. If you don’t want to be there he won’t ask you to be.

He doesn’t get a response when he turns the question back on you, and the seeds of doubt have been planted. His security about where he stands with you has crumbled, its already worn foundations collapsing under him. He is nearly winded by the panic of losing you. By the time he’s understood how he feels and what he wants to say, you’re hanging up, wishing him a good night. He curses himself for his indecision, and prays you’ll text him to say you do want to come to Jeddah.

Listen

Harder buildin’ trust from a distance

I think we should rule out commitment for now

‘Cause we’re fallin’ apart

It’s cemented in his mind that he has to end things by the time he’s landed in London, your text waiting to say that you can’t wait to see him. It’s for the best, he thinks, that he doesn’t drag this on for longer than need be — you’re clearly miserable in this relationship, and it is the right thing, the good thing, to do. You won’t end it yourself, he knows you well enough to know that; he knows you have a thing about not giving up, it’s a trait he understands better than you’re aware of — he can respect nothing if not your commitment. But he doesn’t truly believe that commitment of this kind, where he keeps making you cry, where neither of you can see a way of fixing it, is the kind you should cling to. It’s one thing to be committed, it’s another thing entirely to refuse to see that you are clinging to something that is long gone. He loves you, and he is more than aware that you love him, but he cannot justify the static, drawn out suffering of your relationship’s breakdown. He thinks you’ve probably already broken things off mentally, that your final probes have been about confirming that it’s the right thing to do — he’s done little to help his case.

He stands in the stairwell of your flats for longer than he should. He’s motionless in the landing between two floors, suitcase beside him, suddenly wondering if he should just get it over with. He can’t though, he’s not ready, and it’s not fair on you if he’ll be around for the next few days. He’ll do it on the last day, so you don’t have to look at him for too long.

He’s never been less sure of himself. That’s why he’s doing this — if he should be sure of anything, it should be his relationship.

When the doubt persists for the rest of his three days in London, he is assured that neither of you are in the place for a relationship. It feels strange thinking that knowing that you’ve spent nearly three years together, but he guesses you’ve grown apart. Grown apart or fallen apart, he’s not sure there’s much of a difference when it comes to you two.

On Wednesday morning, eating breakfast in your kitchen before he gets ready to go to the airport, he braces himself. He’d meant to do it last night, but you’d gone out for dinner together and he was too distracted by self doubt to do what he meant to.

“Y/N,” he starts. You watch him squirm, trying to find the words, and he suddenly realises you look expectant, like you know where this is going. “Do you actually want to be with me? Because I just have this feeling that you’ve been preparing yourself to break up with me for weeks.”

With the way your silence fills the air, he’s suddenly wondering if this is how you felt on FaceTime the week before. Your silence is the worst kind of murder.

“You want to break up?” you ask, never one to beat around the bush when you don’t want to. You’re more concise than he is, better at putting yours and everyone else’s thoughts into reality.

“No, but I don’t get the sense that either of us are particularly happy.” he admits. For the first time he wonders if the honesty he can exhibit around you is due to your own honesty, and not because he’s simply more comfortable in your presence; he is anything but comfortable now. Your bluntness is salt in the wound.

“So what, you’re leaving?” you ask. “You think that leaving is going to fix us?”

He shakes his head, “I think leaving is better than trying to fix a relationship that is dead in the water.”

You frown. “Dead in the water?”

He hates the way you repeat his words back to him. “It’s the better thing. I don’t like it, trust me, I don’t. But I can’t keep making you cry, and I can’t ask you to move to Milan again.”

For a second there’s a glimmer in your eyes and he thinks you’re about to tell him you’ll move to Italy. He wouldn’t let you, not matter how much it hurt.

“Don’t tell me what the better thing is.” you practically spit.

“Y/N…” he says, watching you stand up.

“I love you.” you tell him. “I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you.” he says. “That doesn’t make us right.”

You’re crying. He’s simultaneously horrifyingly guilty and utterly assured that he’s doing the right thing. “Get out of my house.”

Leavin’

You’re just doing that to get even

Don’t pick up the pieces, just leave it for now

They keep fallin’ apart

Your jaw is tight as you watch him put his coat on. He stops at the door. “Y/N,”

“Stop looking at me like that.” you say, a newfound venom in your voice. You open the door for him, showing him out. He starts down the stairs and you find yourself calling out to him.

“Pierre, leaving is the coward’s way out.” you say. You’re angry, beyond angry, but the feeling in your chest is the same kind you get at a funeral, the heaviness of knowing that the inevitable has happened and it’s painful no matter how much you knew to expect it. He only nods, leaving you barefoot in the hall.

Back inside, you book a flight to Milan. It’s surprising how quickly you’d accepted the end of the relationship — perhaps there was some merit in his idea that you’d already broken the connection in your mind. You’re tapping your bank card on the kitchen counter, looking at the notice on your laptop confirming the purchase, and you’re completely and utterly done with him. His silences, and how the only times you ever seemed to talk lately ended in tears.

It’s easy to blame him, you acknowledge, easy to say he’s the issue. You’re not blameless.

Milan is the same constant hub of business it has always been, but its culture gets to you a little more than usual. It seems like every café and every restaurant is one Pierre had showed you, and you’re all the more determined to get the hell out of the city; you only have one stop, his.

It’s the easiest time to do it — you can get all your belongings from his flat and go straight home, not even a day away from home. The walk from the station to his flat is a familiar one, one you’ve walked a thousand times. Without Pierre, it’s easier — you don’t have to stop every five minutes for selfies with a fan, but somehow that gets to you. Perhaps it’s the young-ish fan, a teenager, who looks at you with the curiosity of someone who knows exactly who you are and doesn’t understand why you’re here. She frowns slightly, points you out to her friend, who gasps. As you pass, you hear one of them say; She doesn’t live in Milan though. Why’s she here without him?

When you get to his flat and let yourself in, you allow yourself to check your phone. He’s left a text. I can still see your location, you know. Why are you in Milan? You ignore it, opening up your empty suitcase and starting to make your way around the flat; room by room, you extract your things from his. Meanwhile, your notifications are going into overdrive. These are hardly his first texts — he’d texted and called you from Heathrow telling you he regretted it, and he needed to talk to you the moment he got back from the race — but you’re determined now. If he thought you were so bad for each other, you’d make sure to be gone by the time he got back.

I know you’re getting your things. Please, wait until we can talk about this.

Can I call you?

Mon ange, please answer

I need to talk to you

I fucked up

I love you. I’m in love with you.

Eventually, you cave. You’re sitting in front of your packed suitcase, your key to the flat on his kitchen counter.

“Love?” he answers. It must be late where he is, but that’s the least of your concerns.

“Pierre.”

“I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want you to leave me.” He says, “You’re right, it’s the coward’s way out. We should try, at the very least.”

“Don’t you see, Pierre, I have. I have tried more than ever these past weeks, and, d’you know, when you said what you did I finally understood something. I don’t have the capacity to try any harder — I don’t have the capacity to love you in the way I think you need me to. I don't think you love me the way I need you to either. You were right — more than I’ll ever care to admit — but we can’t drag ourselves through this. Let’s not torture ourselves.”

There’s another long silence. Silences seem to be half the communication between you these days. “I can fix this. I can pick up the pieces, I know it.”

“Pierre, I don’t want you to. Stop trying to pick up the pieces, stop trying to fix us. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is, and I refuse to get in your way. Let’s leave it as it is, and not ruin the memory of us anymore than we already have.”

“I love you.”

“I know, Pierre. I’m sorry we couldn’t love each other right.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Ours. It’s our fault.”

I can’t blame you, no, no

[spreejobs]

Beauty Therapist Job Vacancy in Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates

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[justanotherdrfan]

Ladies and gentlemen the last instalment of DTS BREAKDOWN!

Spoiler below, open as you will!

S6E10 (Red or Black) 🔴⚫️♥️♠️♦️♣️

Charles in the snow (he is the snow angel)

HOLY SHIT CARLOS 🥵

They are quite literally fire and ice at Ferrari

It’s Mercedes vs Ferrari (but let’s use the Red Bull car for the pitstop intro because remembers it’s always RED BULL)

GUENTHERR ♥️

Red Bull have the best driver content

Look Danica I know, we know your full of shit when you say ‘there is so much put into the race’ (yeah just not in the drain covers to keep them screwed down)

Ohh you came to Vegas before with your bestfriends did you Charles? ( I do recall you went with Daniel so he’s a bestie then) 👬

Not Christian giving Daniel shit about leading a race for once

Daniel mentions Vegas and you can see him look off recalling the time with Charles in his memory (fortunately or unfortunately Charles can’t recall his time there 😂)

Not Lando and Pierre talking about Charles losing on the tables 😂

MAXIEL ❤️💙

FRED’S BACKKKK

They are Fred who that think is the most vain team principle (Fred doesn’t even get to ask before DTS is already faded the scene and in comes Toto) like clearly you know the answer

Oh look practice 1 has arrived (cue drain fucking shit up)

IT’S MAXX THEY FINALLY INTERVIEWED MAX (like it’s not like he dominated the season)

SHIT THAT DRAIN REALLY COULD HAVE DONE PERMANENT DAMAGE

There is no waiver. (Hold the fuck up let me put my non-existent glasses on and get real. If a car gets damaged due to a track issue (aka drain cover) F1 should cover the teams cost and all replacement parts should not be taken from team allocations set for the year. And no penalties should be applied. It’s quite simple. It’s not bad luck. It’s F1 and the circuit providers duty to have a safe, functioning and up to date track. Full stop.)

Cue press conference dialogue:

Tom Clarkson: ‘Well, let’s look bigger picture because….’(Enter Fred smack down time).

Fred: ‘But this one is a good one. I don’t need to have a bigger picture than this one.’ Tom: Okay. But, Fred, I did want to ask you about this event, if we can just talk about the Las Vegas Grand Prix.’ Fred: ‘Yeah, guys, but I [chuckles] I’m not sure this is the topic for me today. Not, uhh…We had a very tough FP1. This will cost us a fortune. With a fucked-up decision for Carlos. But we have to change the chassis, half of the car, or two-thirds of the car. Okay, the show is the show and everything is going well, but, uh I think it’s just unacceptable from the F1 today.’

Tom: ‘Okay, well, this is the last..’

Toto: ‘Fred is upset.’

Fred: ‘I am, Toto, but you would be upset in my situation.’

Tom: ‘ Fred, let’s look at 2024 as a whole, okay? Your first year as team principal of ferrari.’ (Mate will you fucking quit hounding Fred)

Toto: ‘Your putting yourself into more trouble. No, I can tell you. I’ve known him for 20 years. He has…’

Tom: ‘Fred, can we just…’

Fred: ‘Can I leave now or..’

Tom: ‘Can we reflect on the year?’

Fred: ‘No.Ask a question to Toto about something.’

Tom: ‘All right. Well, look, we’ll come back to you, Fred. We’ll come back to you. (NO YOU WILL NOT TOM, NO YOU WILL FUCKING NOT)

Fred: ‘Sure.’ (It’s giving very fuck around and find out mentality)

End press conference.

Also bat of king Fred don’t take shit from no one. I’m glad I wrote my opinion before I got to this part and Fred sounded off in the press conference.

THEY PUT CHARLES POLE POSITION ON THE DOME (I fucking forgot about the bloody thing) 😂

Look George I understand your good but Charles is the qualifying king

Toto chatting shit about naysayers to some lady (probably on some Las Vegas council or something). Mate you spend most of your time being the naysayer for everything or do you not remember the porpoising drama?

Will Charles convert pole to win (we all know the your ratio) but you do a hell of a job of damage limitation 👏🏽

Abu Dhabi grid school photo time

Ohh look Daniel flirting with Charles in front of Max (he’s such a attention baby girl) 😂❤️💙

Lawerence stroll looking like bad Santa

George why are so dramatic?

McLaren fuck up Lando’s pitstop (cue me clacking)

Not all the teams congratulating their drivers on the year and where the team sits in the constructor

Cue Hass at the bottom and bottom

Ferrari being a killjoy and won’t let Charles do burnouts (he just wants to go play with his bestie Max) 🥺

Ohh Charles you deserve better your too pretty not to

Lawerence was that you wheeling and dealing with James?

Here we go Max’s wrap sheet for the year! (Yes boy you one the whole damn thing on your own. No teammate needed!)

Ohh his last ‘Hi Gene.’

And they left his seat empty to end🥺

[targaryenluvs]

Congrats on 200 followers. Can you write something about the celebratory dinner with Charles and his family after Charles won the world title?

Of course!

and completely missed the mark 😭

contains bad french translations ❤🤩

Stand By Me

"And Charles Leclerc is the winner of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and subsequently the 2023 Champion of the World!"

Cheers rung through out the Ferrari Garage, more so all around you. As you gripped your headphones tighter than before as you watched your boyfriend cross the line, swerving left and right.

Following in his lead, fellow team-mate Carlos and Max. The first Ferrari 1-2 since 22' Bahrain.

In that moment it was all worth it.

The frustrations, struggles and pain of the last few years, the DNFs, the engine problems, miscommunication, everything.

It didn't matter.

-

You, nor any Ferrari employee had managed to wipe the ginormous grin on all of your faces, these smiles would've, (according to Lando) put the Cheshire Cat to shame.

Charles stood proudly on top of his championship winning vehicle as he celebrated by drawing a bow and arrow and shooting off into the distance before covering his eyes as if looking into the sun to see it off.

He jumped down and rushed to the rowdy red team as shouts and compliments surrounded him.

Now don't get him wrong.

He loved the support and congratulations he was receiving but they weren't exactly coming from the person he wanted to hear it from.

The second you came into his field of vision, Charles swallowed you entirely with his bear hug. "For you. Mi amor for us!"

"I know Charles, I'm so proud, you have no idea. I love you so much mon chou." You rambled as you pressed your lips to his.

-

You and Charles were driving to Pascales home.

It had been three days since your very own boyfriend, Charles Leclerc himself, stood proudly on the top of the podium. Clutching his trophe so tightly as if he feared it would run away.

That night was not something any Ferarri member would have remembered in the slightest inkling.

That night was a blur of love, cheers, champagne, skinny dipping off a boat and fireworks as well as noise complaints.

Right afterwards you organized the dinner with Charles and his family knowing they wanted to see him even though Charles had already told you, that the pair off you guys would go together to visit anyway.

You were zoned out as you felt Charles's hand resting comfortably on the inside of your thigh as it drew you back in.

"Tu vas bien?" - Are you okay?

"Yeah, just thinking about this week."

"Oh yeah? Any specific parts? Perhaps our bedroom last sunday?" Charles joked as your smacked his arm.

"No you idiot, I'm just proud of you."

"Merci chérie, je n'aurais pas pu le faire sans toi."

Thank you honey, I couldn't have done it without you.

-

The door opened and revealed a beaming Prema Driver in an ugly christmas sweater.

"Maman me l'a fait porter. Don't even."

Mom made me wear it.

Speaking of the woman, "Charles!" she squealed as she hugged her son before turning her attention to you. "Y/n, it's been too long mon amour."

"Hi Mrs Leclerc! How are you?"

"Good, I'm having fun, watching my boys, being healthy and doing my job. Its a peaceful life and I love it."

"That sounds amazing, I know who I'm going to for my next haircut then huh?" You joked.

"Yes you do. I'm happy and eating well."

"I told you not to lie with family Maman. I saw you eating the oreos!" Enzo joked as he also welcomed you and Charles "Oh shush Lorenzo, come this way dinner's outside, but close your eyes Y/n."

-

You were promptly blindfolded and lead outside where you suddenly stopped, all you could hear was bickering in a language incomprehensible to you. Italian maybe? Definitely not French was all you could tell.

"Y/n."

Was all you heard before the blindfold was taken off and you swore then and there you fell in love, forever, permanently.

Charles was standing in front of you, on one knee, with a ring box in hand.

"Cha-"

"Ma fille, je ne te remercierais jamais assez de m'avoir aidé à traverser ces années difficiles. Tu es restée à mes côtés pendant toutes ces années. Tu m'as toléré, aidé, nourri, soigné quand j'étais trop brisé pour le faire moi-même. L'année dernière a été ma pire, et tu m'as aidé à traverser ça avec facilité. Tu m'as soutenu quand j'avais l'impression de n'avoir personne. Quand c'était le monde contre moi, tu me rappelais toujours que je n'étais jamais seul. Alors s'il te plaît bébé, épouse-moi.

Tiens toi a mes côtès pour toujours."

TRANSLATION:

My girl, I could never thank you enough for helping me through these tough years. You've stuck by my side for all these years. You tolerated me, helped me, fed me, cared for me when I was to broken to do so myself. Last year was my worst, and you helped me through it with ease. You stood by me when I felt like I had no one. When it was the world against me you always reminded me I was never alone. So please baby, marry me.

Stand by me, forever.

-

"You have no clue how long I've been waiting for this Charles. I've known you since we were kids and I've loved you longer than I've known.

Yes! A million times, Yes!"

He promptly slipped the gorgeous and obviously expensive ring on your finger before scooping you up in his arms and spinning the two of you around. As his brothers and mother shouted in excitement and happiness.

As it all settled down you looked up at your boyfriend of 5 years and bestfriend of 19.

"Je t'aime tellement mon ange." Charles whispered into your ear before kissing your neck.

"Je t'aime Charlie."

[umgeorge]

george russell is interviewed during the press conference, abu dhabi - november 23, 2023 (transcription under the cut)

Interviewer: "George, coming to you, so Mercedes are P2 in the constructor's championship, but just four points ahead of Ferrari. What's the mood in the camp, coming into the last one?" George: "Yeah, we're excited for the challenge ahead. It's gonna be a close fight with Ferrari. They're obviously coming off the back of a strong race, but definitely I'd prefer to be in the position we're in than in their shoes, and I think we just need to go out there, focus on ourselves, try and be as fast as possible, and if we do so we'll finish ahead." Interviewer: "So try and be as fast as possible. Do you think you will have the faster car here?" George: "They were definitely pretty competitive here last year, but we've been surprised a lot this season of which teams are fast at which races and vice versa, so we're going in with an open mind. Qualifying, I think they'll have slightly the upper hand, as they tended to do so this season, but come Sunday I think it'll be a different story and we'll have a good race." Interviewer: "Let's look back on the year. When you do that, what conclusions do you draw on 2023? George: "It's been a very strange season. It's been a season where we've had a lot of pace at times but never achieved the results that I felt were deserved, or were possible, so definitely need to try and understand why that was. There's been a huge amount of missed opportunities, in many regards. Really hasn't been a smooth season. But I think when everything's flowing, when everything's working right, luck tends to be on your side, and when you're on the back foot you tend to have bad luck, and I'm not one for believing in luck. I think you make your own luck. So we just need to be faster and lady luck will be with us." Interviewer: "George, can you compare the job you think you've done this year copmared to last year when you won a race and had so much momentum going?" George: "It's definitely something I'm going to look at over the winter, because the results were so smooth flowing last year-I think we finished in the top five more than any other driver-and this year I feel that I've upped my game in my quali pace, upped my game in my race pace, and we've definitely been on the back foot. We definitely have more competition this year, with McLaren joining the fight in the second half, Aston being there at the start of the season. But ultimately we're looking forward to hetting through this weekend, trying to cement that P2 in the championship, and then eyes on next year." Interviewer: "Final word on next year: Can you just describe the scale of the task over the winter? It's one hundred days, today, until the Bahrain Grand Prix. What have you got to do in that time? George: "I think the task for everybody is massive. We're all trying to catch up to the most dominant car in F1 history, so that's no short task and everybody's gonna have to come together, really focus, really put everything into it, and time will tell but I think we're going into this winter in a much better place than we were twelve months ago and two years ago, so we hope we're not gonna stumble over anything. But, as I said, time will tell." [time jump] George: "I enjoyed it a lot, to be honest. I thought the track was a lot better than first expected. Probably the only thing would be, it'd be good to see other formulas race. The track was always mega dirty to start with and that makes it very difficult to race on, when the whole track is pretty filthy, but I think the show was great. Schedule was obviously a bit challenging, but added a different dynamic. Yeah, wouldn't change a lot."

[thewritingofspencerrose]

A Grid Thanksgiving

Logan Sargeant x OC

"And that closes up this wrap up for Vegas, we'll see you all next week in Abu Dhabi," an official closes, glancing around the room for someone to take the microphone from him, Logan Sargeant of all people being the one to do so, stepping on to the stage in an unusual move.

"Uh, if the grid could stick around for just a couple minutes that'd be great," the Williams driver requests, drivers left and right sharing looks.

And they wait, the crews and principles exiting the room before Logan, now without the microphone, has everyone crowd around.

"What's up kid?" Daniel is the one to ask, one brow raised at the American driver.

"I actually was sent on a mission from the missus-"

"You have a missus?" Max asks, the idea setting in over the last few races that he may not be all that young anymore.

Logan chuckles, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck with a nod. "Yeah, I'm going to try to not take that as an insult."

"That's not what he meant," Charles corrects, waving his hand. "You just do not seem as the type to settle down young and we haven't seen any woman with you around the paddock or online."

Logan knows they're right, but that doesn't change the fact that he's tired of always experiencing these assumptions.

"Welp, for eight months now we've been married, her names Brooke, and she sent me to work today with one request."

"Which was?" Oscar questions, expecting something outside the box from the woman who somehow manages his close friend.

"If you all out be available and on location next Tuesday, we've rented a rental apartment rather than a hotel room, and she was hoping you all and your significant others may be willing to join us for Thanksgiving."

"Isn't that typically on Thursdays?" Lando asks, already knowing the answer but hoping for something more.

"It is, but with the race and everything we won't be able to make it home to be with our families, so she got her heart set on cooking a traditional thanksgiving meal for all of you," Logan explains, knowing the request may be a stretch in a lot of places. As much as they respect one another, they are also all still competitors, even if Max and Red Bull had already won. "Its just an open invite, she just really loves the concept of taking a day to appreciate what you're grateful for and keeps saying she's grateful for all of you, even though she only knows you two," He finishes explaining, gesturing to Alex and Oscar. "And none of you have to come, absolutely don't feel like you've got to."

"When will you need numbers by?" Max speaks up, giving the boy a rare grin for a competitor. "I'll have to see if Kelly and P will be traveling with me."

And Logan beams, because at the very least, at least a few drivers are considering the offer.

"Sunday or Monday, Brie isn't planning to shop for anything until Monday."

Max nods, a simple gesture to wrap up the impromptu meeting.

——————————————————————————————————

"Baby, you said to invite the grid, why are you so surprised?" Lo questions with a chuckle, making me want to throw my whisk at him/

"Because I wasn't expecting a good chunk of them to text saying yes! How does Lewis Hamilton even have my number?!"

"He asked me for it so I sent it in the driver's chat," He explains simply, taking a finished dish from my hands to the kitchen island that we set up as a buffet. "Who ended up being available?"

"Carlos, Charles and Alex, Lando, Oscar and Lily, Lewis, Max with Kelly and P, Pierre and Kika, Yuki, George and Carmen, and Alex and Lily," I list smiling brightly at how bustling this home will be in no more than half an hour. "Valterri and the Haas men texted saying they would love to come but they were going home for a beat instead of straight here," I explain, scooping the whipped topping into the bag and twisting it shut.

"Wow, half the grid, good job Baby," Lo compliments, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my temple.

"You're just lucky I didn't invite your boss just to get more baby snuggles," I can't help but jest, but he doesn't look remotely upset at the idea, smiling with a look in his eyes that I just can't place. "What's that look for?"

"You act like I wouldn't love to see you wondering around with a baby, although I'd prefer it to be ours," He admits, making my heart soar. It's before I can answer however that the doorbell rings, calling him away from a conversation we've had many times.

"Brie!" Lily exclaims as Oscar quietly follows her in, Lando following his teammate.

"Lils, it's been too long," I greet her with a hug, pulling both of the Mclaren drivers into hugs as well. "You need to come to more races, I'm always lonely."

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Kelly asks, announcing her little family's arrival, Max clapping Lo on the back as her little girl runs into my legs.

"B!"

"P! I've missed you sweetie," I coo, pulling her onto my hip and kissing her cheek, hugging Kelly and Max.

"P, what do we say to Brie and Logan?" Max prompts, smiling softly at his little girl and I.

"Thank you for inviting us to your American holiday!" She thanks, kissing my cheek before fist bumping Lo.

"I am so happy you all could come," I assure, looking around the progressively filling kitchen. "I love that we're all able to be together for one of my favorite holidays."

She smiles brightly, Max coming up to take her from me with the reasoning that I should be greeting guests as Alex and his Lily walk in, the Lily's being introduced.

And I can't help but smile around me, my heart warm as Lo joins me, wrapping me in his arms.

"Is this everything you wanted?" He asks, words whispering in my ear as he leans on my shoulder.

"Everything and more Lo, everything and more."