#To be clear: I am Australian

[kilometresrufflefuck]

compilation of ace attorney law school struggle tweets. please send thoughts and prayers while i wait to find out if i get to graduate so i can throw my textbooks directly into the fucking sun

[hunter-djura]

Point 1.

A poor start. There are things that may deserve praise, even if they draw incorrect conclusions (of any degree). Praising kids that read and analyze text proportionate to how correct they are is both discouraging and an impossible metric given the non-objective nature of literary analysis.

Further, how one receives and responds to feedback is not exclusively tied into how correct or incorrect they believe themselves to be. They're children. Learning how to receive critique, and social graciousness more broadly, is a process; one they are still in the early stages of.

Point 2.

Teachers need more resources, more time... and they're also often assholes? Okay, that seems very personal so we'll just move forward. You mention their requiring a single specific analysis, which you just implicitly championed above. This comes back around to being highly personal, because this immediately sounds like you think there IS a single correct answer, it's just that other people frequently disagree with you and are thus assholes and refuse to listen, ect.

...

I could go on, but to be quite frank: your points often contradict themselves, undermine your position, (often within the same item) and more broadly; I feel this is mean spirited, laced with anger lacking a subject and largely fails to correctly diagnose the problem.

things I think are responsible for the reading comprehension crisis, rather than the things people always talk about:

people get so worried that kids will hate reading that they profusely compliment any analysis young kids make, even when it's blatantly wrong, like A Modest Proposal levels of wrong. which means later when someone argues they refuse to listen because they think they're perfect at analyzing books

teachers are so overworked and undersupplied (and often assholes) that they demand only a specific version of analysis that they agree with and if anyone has any competing arguments they get their grades docked. possibly due to above

because of the literacy crisis, people keep putting huge, daunting classics in front of kids instead of fun books. this leads kids to believe that books can't be fun. or that books can only be fun if you pretend they have nothing to say

knowing that encouraging reluctant readers in reading literally anything improves literacy, people start encouraging all readers the same way. this leads to kids believing they're super smart and special readers who read way above grade level when they're actually falling seriously behind

the attitude of 'everyone has something worthwhile to say' means that people work really hard to compliment students who say things that are pointless or even fundamentally wrong. while withholding praise from students who make creative contributions in case it seems 'unfair'

that weird thing where kids now believe that everyone has to agree on everything or they're experiencing violence

increased push for diverse perspectives in fiction simultaneous with a push against describing the backgrounds or social situations of various authors (or historical figures in general) means there's less context and more confusion

it seems like people have stopped explaining that you can enjoy something artistically while disagreeing with its message or values? I blame advertisers for this one because it's the thing that lets kids not fall for commercials

too much emphasis on how 'everyone is smart' instead of placing less social import on intelligence. leads to ideas like 'no one can be more talented at anything than anyone else, they only practiced more' which makes more perceptive kids dumb down their analysis so no one thinks they're being stuck up. it also makes people believe no two books could be saying different things

the strong push against TV, movies, video games, etc. being considered art means people no longer bother to analyze them artistically. so they don't exercise the same skills they'd need for reading while doing other things

and the related push that reading is always a 'brainy' activity and all books are 'equally smart', meaning that even books that don't say much must secretly be incredibly complex and have deep, well-researched messages. which leads to people inventing things that aren't there. and since they have nothing to practice on, also no learning how to pick up on things that are there

the idea that there's some inherent divide between 'mindless' activities and 'intellectual' activities, and that it's a trait of the activities themselves, not how people engage with them. so people are under the impression they don't have to try to do anything in particular. it'll just happen

the creepy thing where people universalize history and think everything has always been the same as it is now, only worse (or better, depending) and related misunderstandings

whatever has happened to fact-checking

novels genuinely are worse quality now because there's less money in it and therefore way more constraints on who writes and what they write and how it gets popularized

[crabussy]

MULTIPLE people thought I was australian on that poll.... head in hands

[majorshatterandhare]

Apparently my brain really hates when names have A, U, and R in them, because without fail, every time I go to type Arthur my brain wants to spell it “Aurthur” or perhaps “Aurthr” and every time I go to type Marius my brain wants to type “Mauris” or maybe “Maurius” or maybe “Maurias” its unclear because I *usually* notice my mistake by the end because it’s clear to me those ending are wrong. Brain just really wants “AUR” together.

[andypartridges]

the way some australians are fucking insufferable talking about jimmy barnes is the way i am insufferable talking about paul kelly

[chipped-chimera]

So I dipped into the comments section to look at the discourse for a few seconds (it is exactly as you think) ... and honestly this got me thinking back to when I made a post about JKR on an old blog when that game came out and everyone was yelling about her - I wanted to throw the rarely-remembered-and-usually-forgotten hat into the ring that 'also she hates disabled people and autistics'. Normally I write an essay to get my point across because, hello, autistic and terrified of being misinterpreted. But I knew that was less likely to get 'clicks' so I purposefully made it short, snappy, and had hyperlinks to references instead of a text wall.

While a lot of people got it, those who were pro JKR (and likely Terfs anyway) immediately ignored everything and decided to zone in on the fact I had used the word Bitch to describe her, accusing me of 'not being a feminist' (nowhere in my post, had I said anything about feminism but sure go off fam).

I didn't engage with them at all (I know that these types? waste of energy. They'll just continue doubling down no matter what you say) - but it did get me thinking about why that was so 'offensive' that it apparently made my whole "she literally cast the villain of her mystery novel as a 'terminally online' woman with several disabilities and then held up her protagonist ignoring his OWN PAIN of his disability as the 'golden standard" and "she said Autistics basically shouldn't be able to have medical autonomy, especially over gender transition because 'we don't know what we're doing' in her transphobic manifesto" a moot point.

And honestly? I think there's this problem with mostly Americans (I'm unsure how true this is, this is just me measuring my experiences and vibes - Americans please weigh in, it could also be generational) that - y'all have literally no language nuance. Like none. Zero.

I'm Australian right, and it's probably well known we cuss like sailors. We will use curse words with both a positive AND negative connotation - despite being the same word. It's all about situational context.

Back to Bitch as the example. I don't use Bitch exclusively as negative. Heck I call myself 'chronically tired bitch' often. I know this isn't isolated either. Take 'best bitches' for example - that's positive. 'They're an absolute bitch' - that's negative. Same word.

To get really Australian in here - 'cunt' can either be used as a top grade swear or a term of endearment - depending on context. If someone amicable to you said 'onya cunt!' that's actually positive. whereas 'you bloody cunt' in any circumstance is probably negative (though honestly, I could see this come back to being positive in the right context, like teasingly at a mate who did something stupid).

It's all. About. Context.

So I look at the above picture, of four gay men who are being very supportive of Lesbians. That's great! Sure I know that language might not fly now but who cares! The sentiment is right. They're not bad people. Also this is clearly dated. So language they used at the time has no bearing on what we think now, right? This is queer history. It's something we should be proud of - and considering the growing sentiment in the lesbian community that there is a lot of misogyny happening in the gay community - this solidarity is something we should be happy about! Encouraged even!

I know from experience and talking to people all over the world outside of America a lot of cultures have this kind of nuanced language with 'bad' words, and it's always about the context.

But there is this ... subset of people, who tend to be American (or maybe gen Z? Sorry gen Z. It ain't all of you but it's definitely a sizeable chunk if it is) who just can only see the word in ONE specific way or definition, regardless of the context, time, knowledge of the individual or even the PERSONAL FEELINGS of the individual about the word they're using - they're either using all the politically correct terminology or they're the literal devil.

I love the word Dyke personally. Dyke is a soft word for me. The first time I heard dyke it was not in reference to homosexual women, it was not an insult or derogatory - it was in Scotland when I was 10 and used to describe a stone wall assembled by carefully stacking each stone by hand. To those outside that cultural context, they're often called Dry Stone walls, but to me? To my Scots mother? My Scots uncle? They were Dykes. I am not kidding. They call professional Dry Stone builders Dykers.

For me the word Dyke is loving. Soft. Warm. It takes me back to a time when I was strongly connected with my ancestry in a land that felt like home, surrounded by loving relatives who I rarely got to see, walking around their farms framed by dykes. It's a word that feels like home for me, and I proudly wear as a lesbian too. The meaning is different. But the context feels the same for me.

You know what was used in a derogatory fashion when I was in High School? Gay. You don't see me going around lambasting anyone who uses the word gay now, do you - just because in my personal experience it was used as a synonym for shitty that was so habituated I had to actively work it out of my vocabulary. I didn't use it out of malice, it was ignorance. It was trying to fit in.

But that's the thing about language. It's fluid. It's evolutionary. It's a living thing and the context of words change over time! Do people just forget this shit like? Gay used to mean happy. Fanny used to be a name. Meme really meant a different thing when it was first used back in 1976. You want a real fun one? Read up on the history of okay/OK. Okay has an origin that I could only compare to yeet - and it is a cemented, habituated word in the English language.

So, for anyone who sees someone using a word they don't like or think is 'incorrect', before you jump on the hate wagon you should ask yourself the following:

What is the context surrounding the word being used?

What is the relationship between the individuals using the word? (I mean I'm pretty sure we're all familiar with friends giving each other shit that would NOT be acceptable to say to a stranger)

What is the individuals understanding of the word they are using compared to your modern context? Are they older than you? Was that normal language and is only 'incorrect' now?

What is the sentiment behind the word usage?

Is this even an actual problem for you or are you getting ready to fight someone based on a cause you don't even actually have a stake in just so you can pat yourself on the back? Have you even asked a person who may be affected by this how they feel?

Are you even part of this conversation?

I know my experience with the word Dyke is not going to be universal. I know for some people it will evoke horrible feelings and may take them back to a traumatic time in their life. But does that mean we should stop people from using it if they feel comfortable with it's context - and especially if a large group of people use it as an identifier with entirely positive connotations? NO!

If a word is making you feel uncomfortable on a personal level, for personal reasons, here are some additional questions to ask:

Are you even part of this conversation? No you are not part of the conversation if it's a public space. It's only about you if you choose to make it about you. Are you choosing to make this about you?

If you are part of this conversation, how well does this person know you? Does this person even know it's a trigger?

What is the context this person is using it towards you? Is it with malice? Is it ignorance, do they come from a different cultural context? Do they have different feelings about that word than you? Is English even their first language?

And this one - very important: HAVE YOU TOLD THEM YOU DON'T LIKE HAVING THAT WORD USED?

People are not psychic. They don't know your entire history. Nor do they know your personal preferences. They don't deserve to get screamed at, out of the blue just because you feel icky - especially if you're complete strangers (and if that is your reaction I highly recommend seeking professional help actually because it's likely you need to develop some emotional regulation strategies). What you should do is tell them, politely, that word makes you feel uncomfortable and you'd prefer they didn't use it around you. Not blanket 'not use it ever' - you are just asking for a basic accommodation and mutual respect.

THIS ONLY APPLIES IF YOU HAVE A RELATIONSHIP WITH THE INDIVIDUAL. NOT RANDOMS IN A PUBLIC SPACE. IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU. YOU ARE CHOOSING TO MAKE IT ABOUT YOU.

This does not make all behavior of individuals excusable btw. It's more I'm begging people to develop basic critical thinking skills around language. If someone is clearly using words with malice, and are being openly homophobic or racist or ableist - absolutely school them. My favorite motto for life is Do no harm, take no shit. If they're harming you? Or someone you care about? Take no shit. But if they're not doing any harm? Leave them alone. Stay in your lane. This isn't about you and going after them about it is causing harm.

Also, for anyone who wonders why I put 'chronically online' in quotations - I feel this is one of the words that is fast heading towards the naughty shelf with all the other fun words like trauma dumping and gas lighting that people don't either know the literal definition of or aren't even correct. It's overused and lets face it - WE ARE ALL. CHRONICALLY. ONLINE. There is no 'offline' space anymore unless you are literally off grid. The online space influences the real space and there is no way around that anymore. Second, it's kind of throwing those who have no option but to be in online spaces (disabled, immunocompromised, anyone highly isolated in some way) as their only social outlet under the bus. Yes, I know me saying 'don't use chronically online' is kind of in contradiction of my entire point but here is my LAST recommendation when it comes to whether you are reactive to use of particular language or not -

Ask yourself: is what is being said normalizing something potentially harmful, and to what group - and is the group actually bothered by this.

I think back to 'gay' being used extremely casually by nearly all teenagers when I was in high school. That was inherently harmful. Gays and Lesbians calling themselves Fags and Dykes in solidarity if anything, is reclaiming of a word. It's developing nuance for that word. It is evolving it. It is not normalizing it in a harmful context. Using autistic or OCD as a descriptor for someone being overly pedantic in a negative context is harmful - because it is implying that someone with these conditions which they literally have no control over are somehow lesser. You wouldn't use diabetes or cancer in the same way you might say 'oh I'm so OCD' because you have to fold your washing the second you bring it inside. There are some words we shouldn't be normalising the context of, but Fag and Dyke ain't the hill to die on here.

Anyway everyone go watch this video of Stephen Fry talking about language and how it changes over time. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I wish you all a very develop some critical language skills, hugs and kisses.

Go Girls Go! | First Dyke March in Washington DC, 1993

[dilemmaontwolegs]

It Started With A... || CarLandOscar

Summary: Whoever thought love was limited to one person was an idiot. Love had no limits and you knew that better than most when a rookie found himself carving out a third of your heart. Warnings: established relationships, fluff, angst, pining. WC: 7.5k

It started with a smile. It was stiff and polite and made you pity the rookie who was being introduced to everyone so fast he would surely forget their names. 

“It took me a few months, but you’ll figure out who is who,” you encouraged him as the welcome committee went back to work in the factory and Oscar looked for guidance on where he was meant to go next. 

“I hope so. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” he admitted sheepishly. “Are you in the PR team?”

You looked down at your black skirt and white blouse and thought you probably did look like someone from PR or legal. “Contrary to belief, I am actually what people would call a PR nightmare,” you said as you held your hand out. “Y/N Y/L/N, Lando’s girlfriend.”

“It's nice to meet you. I suppose I’ll see you around here a lot then.”

You smiled ruefully and shook your head. “I’m studying at Royal Holloway but we wanted to be here for your first day so we stopped by.”

You looked around for Lando and found him returning from the cafeteria with a takeaway coffee cup in his hand. “I wondered where you went,” you teased as you happily accepted the hot drink and the kiss he placed on your cheek. 

“Figured you needed this, love. I kept you up pretty late for a school night.” Lando nudged Oscar and winked. 

The Australian’s ears turned pink and you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's humour. “He was steaming until some ridiculous hour this morning. You’ll probably find him crashed out on a couch somewhere this afternoon while I will be struggling through lab tech.”

“You’re the smartest person I know, I don’t think you even need to go to class.” Lando tipped your chin back, giving you a deep kiss without care that his new teammate was watching the interaction. “We should go, love, don’t want to make you late again. You want to come for a ride too?”

“Shouldn’t I go inside?” Oscar asked as he looked to the double doors that led into the employee only section.

“They want us to do a few icebreaker promo vids to get to know each other so you’ll just be waiting around for me to get back anyway.”

“You should probably get used to that, he likes to keep people waiting,” you joked. 

“When have I ever kept you waiting?”

“I’m still waiting for a win.”

Lando chuckled and playfully swatted your ass. “I’m working on that. Hard.”

You cupped his cheek and ran the pad of your thumb over his pouting bottom lip. “I know you are, baby, and it’s gonna come.”

Oscar cleared his throat and jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “I can just go wait inside.”

“Nah, come on,” Lando said as he grabbed his keys from his pockets. “You should see where her classes are in case there's an emergency.”

You frowned in confusion. “An emergency?”

“Yeah, like if I’m running late.” Lando draped an arm over your shoulder and led the way to the handful of reserved parking spots near the front door. “It’s only 15 minutes down the road.”

Lando opened the passenger door to his Range Rover and you glanced at Oscar who just smiled and opened the back door. “I’m okay back here,” he said as he climbed in. You settled into your usual seat but adjusted it to give Oscar’s longer legs some extra room. 

The drive took a little longer with the tail end of rush hour traffic but it seemed to pass quickly with Lando and Oscar making small talk. You could almost feel Lando’s excitement vibrating off him when he spoke about the upcoming season while Oscar was far more reserved. You quickly understood that he was merely the quiet type, not that he wasn’t excited. 

“You should come over for dinner,” Lando said, one hand resting on your thigh while the other steered. “I’m heading back to Monaco this afternoon but I’ll be back for the weekend.”

He squeezed your leg when he caught your eyes dropping down at the reminder. “It’s only a few days, love.”

“I know, doesn’t stop me from missing you.”

Oscar tried to turn his attention to the scenery out the window, feeling intrusive in the intimate moment, but Lando caught his eyes as they glanced over you. “Oscar could keep you company. Maybe you could show him around Surrey?”

Oscar’s eyes widened as if he had been caught red handed and his cheeks flamed again. “I, uh, sure, I mean, you’re probably busy studying though.”

“I can make time. I actually get through it a lot quicker without this distraction in the house. Who would have thought?”

Lando gasped, “Me, a distraction?”

“Mhmm, you always need attention, baby. But that’s okay, I still love you.”

“Good to know.” Lando dropped a lopsided grin and winked before pulling up to the front of the Science Block. “I love you too, and don’t forget Carlos is picking you up this afternoon.” 

You leaned across the gearbox and kissed Lando farewell before turning to Oscar. “It was really lovely to meet you.”

“You too. Should I get your phone number?”

“Asking for my girlfriend’s number in front of me,” Lando scoffed. “Mate, that’s fucking rude.”

You slapped Lando’s arm and he burst out laughing. “You should have seen your face. Classic.”

You smiled apologetically to the Aussie. “I’ll put it in your phone,” you offered as you held out your hand for the device. You quickly entered the number and hit the green icon until your phone rang in your pocket before taking a selfie and adding it to the contact. “There, now you’ll remember who the name belongs to.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled, taking the phone back. “I would’ve just put ‘Lando’s Missus’.”

“I like that, you can still update it,” Lando chuckled. “It’s a good title.”

“One I’m still waiting for,” you said as you waved your empty ring finger. The movement drew your attention to the watch on your wrist and you swore as you saw class was about to begin. “Bye, baby, have a safe flight.”

You bundled up your bag but when you reached for the door it was already opening and you gave Oscar a quick hug as you stepped out. “Bye, Osc.”

Half the students had disappeared into the halls and you speed walked up to the heritage building where you would spend the first half of your day.

Lando watched you walk away while Oscar took the front seat. “You’ve done something right,” he commented as he put the SUV in reverse, “it took me two weeks to get a nickname.”

A dark blue Ferrari was surrounded by dozens of students when you left your last class and you cradled your textbooks tighter, prepared to bustle your way in. Carlos had been keeping an eye out and was quick to spot you leaving the building. He moved assertively through the crowd and met you at the edge of the circle so he could use his body to shield you. 

“Nice and inconspicuous,” you teased him when you were safely deposited into the passenger seat.

“Sorry, hermosa, the flight was delayed. I didn’t have time to go home and switch cars.” He drove slowly as the last of the fans moved aside and tried to peer through the tinted glass. “How was school?”

“I didn’t fall asleep, so there’s that,” you said with a yawn and felt Carlos’ hand close around yours as you closed your eyes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Carlos lifted your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles before resting them on his lap. “Lando said you made a new friend.”

You smiled and opened your eyes to see Carlos glancing across the car as he sped along the highway home. “You two are the worst gossips. Oscar’s nice. I think they will get along well as teammates.”

“Better than me?”

“No one could beat you and Lando as teammates, baby, that was pure magic.” You rubbed soothingly along his thigh to reassure him. “I don’t know if he will get more vocal as he gets comfortable but I get the feeling Oscar is just a quiet person. He’s very different from Lando, and you and Daniel, which could be a good thing.”

Carlos chuckled to himself. “It sounds like you have spent a lot of time thinking about him.”

“There may have been moments,” you admitted. “But there was someone I thought about a lot more.”

A wicked grin grew and Carlos’s hand drew yours higher up his leg as he turned onto the narrow lane that led to the private property Lando had bought. Set halfway between the McLaren factory and your university, it was the idyllic spot to live and Carlos could fly in from the Ferrari HQ in Maranello whenever he had free time, or, when Lando didn’t want to leave you on your own. 

“And who exactly did you think about?” Carlos asked as the front gates opened. “Was he handsome?”

“Very, very handsome, with dark hair and a sexy accent. And he’s so fucking fit, I could break my teeth on his abs,” you hummed happily as the car pulled into one of the few spaces left in the large garage. “I could go on and on about him. Charles is just-”

“Cha-“ Carlos’ foot fell heavy on the brake and the car jutted to a sharp stop. “Charles!”

Your giggle filled the empty car as Carlos ran around the front and opened your door. The world tipped over as he grabbed you out of the seat and tossed you over his shoulder, swatting your ass as he marched you into the house. 

“I’m sorry, I was joking,” you spluttered between laughing and gasping as he spanked you again. “I was thinking about you, doing something surprisingly similar to this actually, just less clothes.”

The world spun again as he tossed you on the bed and caged you beneath his body, his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. “You hurt my feelings, mi amor.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist and combed a hand through his thick dark hair that had grown in the week he had been gone. “Then let me make it better.”  

It started with a text, asking if you had any recommendations for the local takeaways. It was Oscar’s cheat day and you were feeling like you could use a little pick me up of greasy food so you offered to show him your favourite spot. Carlos had been called away a day earlier than planned so you had the whole house to yourself and its grand size always seemed scary on your own. 

The buzzer from the gates sounded and you hit the remote button to open it after, swearing as you realised you lost track of time. Open textbooks covered the kitchen table and highlighters were strewn amongst them as you tried to colour code the notes you had made on post-its. It was a mess, but it was too late to clean up as Oscar knocked on the front door.

“I promise I didn’t forget you were coming, I just thought I had time to finish my homework first,” you said as you opened the door and waved him in. You looked down at the grey sweatpants that came from Carlos’ drawer and the hoodie that came from Lando’s, not quite what you had planned to wear into town. “Obviously, I thought wrong. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just get changed real quick.”

“You don’t have to get dressed up,” he said as he took his shoes off and closed the door behind him. “I’d rather you be comfortable.”

You smiled at the sincerity and gave him a quick hug, inhaling the musky cologne that clung to his shirt. “You’re sweet, Osc, but you’re a rookie and it shows.”

He frowned as you pulled away and started to head to the stairs for the second floor where the bedrooms were. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You paused at the bottom step and looked over your shoulder. “You’ll see in an hour.”

The chicken shop had been almost empty when you entered before the dinner rush but there was a crowd growing outside. You were used to having cameras pointed your way after publicly dating Lando for over two years, but Oscar had only shot to fame in the last month when his infamous tweet aired on Drive to Survive. He hadn’t been known outside of the smaller F2 circle but now he was a household name. 

“I see what you mean,” he said as he did his best to ignore the people knocking on the glass. 

“You get used to it, eventually.” You popped a hot chip in your mouth and chewed it while you watched him, a small frown tugging his brows together. “The trick is deciding early on what your position is.”

“What position?”

“With the fans, the paparazzi, all of it.” You glanced at the window and waved. “When we started dating, Lando tried to protect me from them and hide our relationship but they were like sharks after blood. We found we had more privacy if we acknowledged them, then they just moved on.”

You didn’t try hiding with Carlos so no one ever dug too deep into it. Everyone just assumed you were close friends given how close Lando and him were too. It was easier for everyone to believe you were just friends.

Oscar turned to the glass window and forced a smile before waving to the children. Cameras flashed as the fans got the face shots they wanted and then they dispersed back about their day, with the exception of a few stragglers. “Huh. Are you sure you’re not in PR?”

“I’m sure,” you said with a smirk. You weren’t joking when you said you were a PR nightmare - if the world found out about the unorthodox relationship between you, Lando and Carlos it would be. “I have just been through it all before so I can be your personal guide.”

“Thank you.”

You pushed the leftover plate of fries his way knowing he was probably like every other driver who had the ability to consume three times their weight in carbs on a cheat day. “You can thank me with another dinner date, it beats going cross-eyed studying.”

“I’m not sure your boyfriend would appreciate that,” he said as he dragged the plate of fries closer and finished the last of them.

“Lando appreciated what makes me happy, and he’s secure enough to trust what we have isn’t going anywhere.” 

The idea was foreign to him and you could see the doubt he had about it, but he settled instead for a polite, “That must be nice.”

“Your PR team is going to love you,” you chuckled as you grabbed your wallet to pay. “A driver who actually keeps his thoughts to himself, that’s a rarity.”

Oscar’s long legs quickly overtook you and he had some cash out ready. “I invited you,” he said with a stern look that caught you by surprise. “I’m paying.”

Raising your hands in defeat, you smirked and slipped your wallet back into your handbag. “Yes, sir.”

You watched his eyes linger on your lips before he shook his head of the wayward thought and led the way out of the store. “So what do you usually do when Lando is in Monaco?”

“Carlos usually comes and keeps me company, or I just study. Not exactly the epitome of excitement but it’s my last year and then I’ll go to Monaco too.”

Oscar quietly accepted the knowledge without questioning it, though you could see them swirling in his eyes. He wanted to know about Carlos but he was too polite to ask, or maybe he knew it wasn’t something you could answer. “Well, you have my number so if you get sick of studying you can always call me.”

"You can call me too, Osc.”

Term break arrived with as much turbulence as the plane you took to Austria. On one hand you were excited to be able to travel to a few races but on the other you nervously awaited two assessment results and continuously checked your phone for updates until Carlos locked it in the hotel safe. “You can get it back when you promise to relax.” 

“I won’t relax until I know what I got,” you argued but between him and Lando they distracted you well enough, for a while at least.

“We need to get going,” Lando reluctantly said as he climbed out of bed and tried to restore some control over his mussed hair. “You can have your phone back, but just so we can contact you, not so that you can worry about your damn exams.”

Carlos laughed as he unlocked the safe that also had your passports and valuables stored. “I’m sure she will listen to you,” he said as he handed the phone over and saw the unread text messages from Oscar light up the screen. “Though maybe she won’t have time to check her emails now.”

The two managed to shower in a matter of seconds before they reappeared and sorted through the pile of clothes on the floor, tossing red one way and papaya the other. 

“Is Oscar on his way?” Lando asked when he was dressed and ready to go to the track. 

“He’s already there,” you replied, barely looking up from the messages that were coming in rapidfire succession except to kiss Lando goodbye. “And he said you’re going to be late again if you don’t hurry up.”

“I was on time yesterday,” Lando grumbled, pulling his shoes on as he hopped to the door. “I just looked late because I was the last to arrive.”

“Better than coming too soon,” Carlos joked as he leant down to give you a kiss too. “See you later, mi amor.”

You arrived at the track just before the driver’s parade began, when everyone was too busy making their way to the grandstands so the paddock was much easier to navigate. The results had been posted and a smile had been plastered on your face since seeing the grade, but you wanted to tell Lando and Carlos in person. 

“Hey, you’re actually here.” The aussie twang greeted your ears before you turned and found Oscar opening his door opposite Lando’s. “I was starting to believe you were a figment of my imagination.”

Oscar opened his arms and you stepped into the hug you were pretty sure you had trained him into expecting every time you met. He was already in his fireproof skins and they hugged every inch of his torso so you could feel the muscle that lay beneath. 

“I got in last night,” you said as you brushed a hand through his soft hair and giggled when it flopped back over his forehead. “How has your week been?”

“I’m pretty sure you know almost everything that’s happened.” Referring to the hundreds of texts that were religiously exchanged. 

“It’s not the same without seeing your face, I can’t tell if you’re lying or not.”

He tucked your head back into his collar and held you a little tighter. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“You would if you thought it was protecting me.”

He didn’t have a response for that, at least not before Lando’s door opened and he leaned against the panel with an amused look on his face. 

“Are we celebrating or commiserating, love?”

You had completely forgotten why you had come to the building and a bright smile lit up your face as you bounced on the balls of your feet. “A+, baby.”

“Knew you could do it!” Lando wrapped his arms around you and, incidentally, Oscar too. “Fuck the diet, we are going out tonight.”

You looked up at Oscar. “You’ll come too right?”

“Of course he’s coming,” Lando answered with a wink. “Gotta thank the guy that looks after my girl when I’m away. She would never get her nose out of a book if you didn’t take her out.”

You had quickly learned that it didn’t take much to make Oscar blush and Lando loved to make it happen. 

“It’s no problem,” Oscar murmured as he scratched his heated neck. 

Oscar understood more than anyone why there were always rumours about Carlos. Every time pictures were snapped of you and the Spaniard, or all three of you, the gossip began anew. After spending quite a bit of time with you over the last six months he had his own fair share of rumours but he knew nothing had happened with you. It was hard not to gravitate closer to you or to hug you at any given chance - there was a magnetism he couldn’t explain and he didn’t want to fight it. 

“You saved me from total starvation on numerous occasions,” you praised, rising on your toes to kiss his pink cheek. “My hero.”

Oscar’s face grew another shade deeper and he tried to change his racing thoughts to something other than the feel of your lips. It was impossible, he was too far gone and was helpless to his own feelings that wanted more than you could offer. He couldn’t even look at Lando after the betrayal he had just imagined doing. That was his teammate and you were his boyfriend.

“I’m going to head to the garage,” he choked as he took a step back and grabbed his balaclava from his room. He could feel your eyes in him as he left and when he reached the end of the corridor he turned with a frown as he realised he had missed something. “Congratulations on the grade, you deserve it after the effort you put in.”

Those eyes he had come to love in the last six months softened and you smiled. “Thank you, Osc. Good luck out there.”

It started with a kiss. While Lando and Carlos were celebrating the points they had earned, you were keeping Oscar’s glass full as he stewed in his mind over what he could have done better. You could almost see the calculations running through his head as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass and it was like he couldn’t even hear the music in the nightclub. 

“If you don’t drink that I will, and you don’t want to see what happens to me when I have whisky,” you warned him. 

He looked at the glass and sighed, putting it down. “I think I should just call it a night. You should go have fun with them.” You followed his sight to Carlos and Lando jumping with the crowd, Lando’s mouth moving with the words and Carlos’ arm draped over his shoulder.

“They can keep each other company, I want to be here with you.” You took his glass and lifted it to your lips. “Last warning…” The liquor burned down your throat and you rushed to take a gulp of your fruity cocktail to wash away the taste before a shiver rolled down your spine. “Oh god, how can you drink that?”

You poured another glass from the bottle on the table and held it out until he took it with a small laugh. “It’s meant to be sipped, not shot,” he clarified before drinking a small amount.

The whisky hit your stomach and you felt warmth spread across your skin. The bar menu suddenly became a necessity and you fanned your face with the cardboard as the flush reached your hairline. “We should dance.”

“I, I’m not a good dancer,” he said, looking concerned at the idea.

“No one is good at dancing,” you pointed out, the crowd basically just jumping to the beat or moving side to side. “Just follow my lead.”

He accepted your hand and you grinned triumphantly as you towed him to the dancefloor before turning and stepping closer to his body. Your hands came to rest on his chest and you swayed your hips to the beat before realising he really did need to be led because his hands were still limp at his sides. 

“You can touch me,” you teased as you grabbed his hands and put them on your hips. “Just relax and feel the rhythm.”

Oscar’s fingers flexed when he felt you start moving again, your body brushing against his, and he released a shuddering breath when you turned in his arms and tipped your head back on his shoulder to look up at him. 

“You okay?” you asked as you watched his blue eyes darken in the laser lights.

“You’re beautiful.”

You turned to face him with one of those smiles of pure joy that always made his day better and he forgot about his poor race result. He could hardly breathe when your hands roamed his body, climbing the thick column of his neck to rest on his racing pulse. He was pretty sure he was going to pass out when you rose on your tiptoes, eyes closed and lips pursed to give him one of those sweet kisses on his cheek.

Someone knocked into him and he turned to growl a warning but then your lips were there, pressed to his lips and he lost the words. Time slowed to the space between one heartbeat and the next as he savoured the sweet taste of your drink, unable to stop himself from taking a little more. 

You had kissed his cheek enough times to memorise the feel of them and knew it was not what you were kissing. A soft gasp slipped past when his tongue parted your lips and your fingers found themselves tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as your body yearned for more.

“Uh-oh, someone’s had a bit of frisky whisky,” Lando purred in your ear.

Oscar startled back and wiped his lips that were the same shade as your lipstick. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it was an accident. Someone pushed me,” he stammered as he looked around but had no idea who had barged into him when there were hundreds of people in the club.

“Relax, mate,” Lando said with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. You cozied into Lando’s arm and tried to process what had happened while your lips tingled from the kiss and your heart fluttered. “It’s the whisky.”

You wanted to tell him the whisky hadn’t kicked in yet but kept quiet as Oscar exhaled in relief. Hiding your face in the crook of Lando’s neck, you screwed your eyes shut and pushed away the image that told you he had regretted the kiss. The knowledge settled in your gut that twisted and turned and you gripped Lando’s shirt harder at the rejection. 

“Can we go?” you begged quietly. “Please?” 

Lando kissed your forehead and nodded. “Okay, love, let me just tell Carlos.”

Your hands were left empty as Lando darted back into the melee to find Carlos who would probably stay until the club shut down. For the first time since meeting him you felt awkward in Oscar’s presence knowing you had made him uncomfortable. You didn’t know what to say and it was clear he didn’t either as he buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed as you took a step away, hoping the crowd would swallow you whole.

When you woke the next morning for a moment you could pretend it was some strange dream, or nightmare, until Lando blinked his sleep eyes open and pulled you into his arms. “Good morning, beautiful.” The timbre of his voice when he was just waking could always bring a smile to your face but your lips merely wobbled and he sat up concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“I fucked up, with Oscar.”

“Baby, it was just a kiss and you were both drunk, I’m sure he’s probably already forgotten about it.”

The thought that he could forget something that to you was so profound only compounded the ache in your chest. You didn’t want him to forget, you didn’t want him to regret, and you voiced as much to Lando as you cried in his arms.

“Sweetheart,” Lando murmured softly as he wiped away your tears. “I think this is a conversation we should have with Carlos.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you grumbled, tearing yourself from his embrace. “It wouldn’t work out anyway.”

Lando got up and followed you to the bathroom as you turned the shower onto the hottest setting. “Why wouldn’t it work?”

“You and Carlos are best friends, and while you are always close to your teammates I know he doesn’t have the same interest in Oscar.” You stepped under the cascade and welcomed the burning heat that rained down. “I don’t want to lose what we have by wanting more.”

You didn’t hear Lando leave as the steam fogged up the glass and you let your head fall against the cold tile wall. He left you to your thoughts and gave you the space needed to reconcile your feelings to the past.

It started with a phone call. The urge had woken you from a deep sleep and you couldn’t shake the need to reach for your phone and dial the number you knew by heart. It had been a good weekend for the McLaren team with double podiums both in the Sprint and Grand Prix. The two third place caps were hung on the post of the bed as testament to the productive weekend but Lando had gone to bed deflated. 

Oscar had won his maiden race before him. A rookie had done what he had waited years for, what he still waited for. 

“Hello?”

You had assumed the call would go to voicemail after ringing for so long so you weren’t prepared to hear Oscar’s sleepy voice in your ear.

“Hey, sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay, is everything alright?”

You swallowed and shook your head before remembering he couldn’t see. “I just wanted to say congratulations, I thought you would still be out celebrating.”

“There’s no one to go celebrating with,” he said so quietly you wondered if it was even meant to be said out loud. 

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure what for exactly but you felt the need to say it anyway. It was about the only thing you had said to him in weeks. “I should let you get back to sleep.”

“It’s, uh, it’s good to hear your voice,” he admitted and you a little bit of the weight on your shoulders eased as you realised whatever you had wasn’t completely ruined.

“You too, Osc. Good night.”

“Night.”

It was naive to think that one phone call could repair the divide that had chasmed between you because when you returned home for your last semester you still felt his absence everywhere. There were no daily text messages, or invitations to dinner, no sudden appearances as you left class. He was a memory that haunted you and it was always worse when both Lando and Carlos were away.

Four Months Later

It started with a bouquet. The small card was almost lost in the overflowing explosion of blossoms that left a sweet scent in the air but when you flipped it over your heart skipped a beat. Congratulations, OP x 

You were still smiling just as brightly an hour later when you arrived at the graduation ceremony to receive your Honours degree. You had kept the bouquet with you and inhaled the fresh scent as you waited for your name to be called. A loud cheer erupted from the rows where Lando, Carlos, your friends and family sat but it was the lonely cheer at the back of the hall that caught your attention. 

Unfortunately it may have been a hopeful hallucination as you didn’t see him again after that or at the celebration Lando threw for you at home.

“Pack your bags, baby, it’s time for Monaco!” Lando engulfed you in a hug and spun you around so your ceremonial robes billowed out and you clutched your cap to keep it from flying off. “I’m so selfish, I can’t wait to wake up to you every fucking day.”

Another set of arms tugged you away and you fell into Carlos’ embrace. “I’m so proud of you, hermosa.”

You were practically a marionette the way you were passed from one person to the next until finally the bottles of champagne ran dry and the party came to an end. You collapsed onto your bed with a giddy laugh that the long journey was finally over and you toed your heels off, letting them fall to the floor. 

“You can’t sleep in your dress, amor,” Carlos chuckled as he walked into the room with Lando after locking the house up. 

“Then you will have to undress me,” you teased with a beckoning finger that faltered when you saw Lando had the bouquet in a vase that he had found downstairs and he placed it on the bedside drawers beside your phone. “I saw him.”

“I know,” Lando said as he straightened the card among the roses. “I invited him.”

“Thank you.”

The next bouquet was one that you sent to him on his birthday. He barely kept the flowers alive for a week but he did keep the card that was attached. The two little xx’s you signed off with were almost faded from how often he traced his thumb over them before slipping it back into his wallet. He was no longer a rookie but he found this season harder to bear without your companionship and he wished he could somehow fix what he broke.

The problem was that he couldn’t settle for just your friendship anymore so he had to keep his distance instead. He had tasted your lips and nothing less could sate the addiction that had festered in the absence of another hit.

Miami was torturous for Oscar. The car was running great and his qualifying was great, but after five rounds of racing he was still stunned every time he watched you enter the paddock. At least in China the weather was horrible so you were bundled up in Lando’s hoodie but Miami, Miami was hot. Monaco had been influential in your fashion and the dress you wore was worthy of the runways in Paris. 

Stacks of passes hung around your neck and fell into your cleavage as you entered the grid and joined Lando where he was talking to Carlos. Oscar watched with envy as you hugged them both and kissed their cheek with well wishes for the race while he failed to hear what his race engineer was explaining. He was distracted by the fact you had seen him, and smiled. It was small and shy, but it was a smile nonetheless and one of his own growing as you waved your fingers and disappeared back into the garage.

One hundred and ten races he kept you waiting, but finally Lando won his maiden race and there was nothing that could bring him down. He had not stopped smiling, or dancing, or talking since winning and he wasn’t even sure if any of it made sense. The hours were a whirlwind of alcohol and noise until it all turned black and Carlos had to help you get him into bed.

Lando was fast asleep with his mouth open and snoring, which heavily down to the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed at the after party. He didn’t even stir as you slipped out of the bed and left the room to answer the call that lit up your phone. 

“Hey.” You kept your voice low even though you knew nothing short of a fire alarm would wake your boyfriend.

“Hey.” You could hear the smile in that word and your own lips curled up in response. “I’m sorry if I woke you, I just needed to hear your voice.”

You navigated your way through the dark hotel suite to the balcony and opened the door just wide enough to fit through before closing it. The humidity was instant and the satin nightgown clung to your warm skin as you hung up the phone. “You didn’t wake me.”

Oscar was so close you could almost touch him, but the balcony one room over was just too far away. He even looked down the gap to see the fifteen storey high plunge and you could see his brows burrow together like he was calculating his chances of making the leap across. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned him. “I didn’t come out here to see you fall to your death.”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the railing and he sighed in defeat. A smirk soon tugged at his lips and he brushed his hair back over his ear as he eyed the sheer slip you wore. “But you did come out here to see me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, aware of how thin the material was and all it bared. “I wanted to check how you were.”

Oscar’s lips pursed at the reminder of his poor race result. 

“Could have done without your boyfriend’s boyfriend crashing into me.”

He didn’t know how close to the truth he was with that statement and you wondered if he knew about the relationship that Lando and Carlos had or if he was just playing on an old fan rumour. You wondered how shocked he would be if he knew that Carlos was passed out on the other side of Lando right now. 

“It is a part of racing,” you reminded him. “There’s always a risk battling it out.”

Oscar dropped his head with a little laugh. “It’s a good thing I didn’t call you for sympathy or I would be disappointed.”

“Why did you call me?” 

You knew why.

“I told you, I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Osc,” you sighed, your hands falling to your side, and he lifted his head to look at you, his blue eyes so similar to his teammates.

“I’m not an idiot,” he said as he let go of the rail he leaned on and rose to his full height. “I know you love him.”

“I do,” you confirmed with a small nod, unable to look in his direction as you turned your focus to the view of the ocean instead. 

You didn’t hear him move until his feet landed quietly on the concrete behind you and you spun around to face him. A small shocked gasp escaped your lips when his palm glided over the satin at your waist and pulled you closer to his body. Your hands found their own space on his chest and he froze as he waited for you to push him away, but your fingers curled into the white shirt he wore.

“I know you love him,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “But I think you might love me too.”

“You have ignored me for months.” It wasn’t a denial and he caught the admission of those missing words.

“I can never ignore you, and now I know I can’t even keep my distance from you.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours as his large hands cradled your face. “I need you, Y/N.”

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” you whispered as you fought the urge to tell him just how much you needed him too. 

“I’m asking for a chance to show you how perfect we are for each other.” He pulled back to see tears shimmering in your eyes and he sighed. “I shouldn’t have called. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

“Wait-”

“No, you don‘t have to say anything. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I don't want you to cheat on Lando.” He kept backing away but you followed with each step until his back was pressed to the railing. 

“Lando isn’t the problem,” you promised as you reached for his face and cradled his sharp jawline. “Remember when I said I was a PR nightmare?”

Oscar nodded as his brows furrowed together. 

“I’m trusting you with a secret no one else knows.” His confusion grew as you took his hand and led him inside the suite. You pressed a finger to your lips as you reached the bedroom door and nudged it wider so he could see what was inside. In the dim light it was hard to make out what he was looking at but then everything came into focus like the Ferrari shirt on the floor and the CS55 cap on the nightstand. 

Oscar’s jaw slackened as he recognised the two bodies spread across the sheets and he eyed the empty space that you had filled. A thousand questions muddled in his head and he swallowed them down until you had closed the door again. His hand slipped out of yours as you walked back to the balcony and you wondered if that was the last time you would ever hold it.

“No one can know, please,” you whispered as you hugged yourself and stared at the moonlight on the waves. 

“Help me to understand what I just saw. Are the rumours true then?”

You laughed and turned to face him, crossing your legs and you leant against the rail. “They're not wrong,” you admitted with an evasive shrug. “They love each other and have a relationship, but it’s not the same relationship that I have with them.”

“You’re not exactly helping me to understand this,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face as he sat heavily on the outdoor settee. 

You had never needed to explain it before, the addition of Carlos to yours and Lando’s relationship had naturally fallen into place and been accepted without having to understand why you all felt the way you did or how it was going to work. But now you were going to try.

“I met Lando first and what we had was instant, he was funny and sweet and kind. Then he introduced me to Carlos who was so charismatic it was impossible not to love him too. It didn’t mean I loved Lando any less so he supported me having a relationship with Carlos too.” 

“Okay.” He nodded like it made some sense and it gave you a slither of hope. “But what about them?”

You watched Oscar’s eyes linger on the skin bared by the satin and they darkened when you uncrossed your legs to step closer. He sat up straighter as you approached and his legs opened for you to step between and he did nothing to stop you when you took a seat on his lap. 

“You want to know if it's a package deal?” you teased, toying with the strands of his dirty blonde hair. “You want to know if you can have me, but at what price?”

His throat bounced with a deep swallow and his tongue wet his dry lips before he could speak again. “Is it?”

You thought about teasing him more but you settled for the truth. “No, like I said, they don’t have that sort of relationship. Yes, we may sleep in the same bed more often than not and on occasion they share me, but that is as far as they go. That is where the rumours are wrong.”

“Share you as in…”

“Threesome, Oscar,” you confirmed with a laugh as his cheeks turned pink. Seeing that colour again reminded you of the kiss and you shifted on his lap to straddle his hips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. It feels like a part of me has been missing for months.”

His hands slid up your back and pulled you closer. “I know what you mean.” 

His lips were so close you could feel their warmth and they begged you to close the distance, but you couldn’t just yet. “I want you, Osc, and you’re right, I do love you.”

You could see the sadness in his eyes as he asked, “But?”

“But I don’t know how this works when you and Carlos are battling each other every week.”

“I know things sound heated on the radio but that is just on the track,” he promised, his thumbs drawing soothing circles over your spine. “I have no problem with Carlos, I swear.”

Carlos had said the same thing but you weren’t sure if they were just trying to placate you. Only time would tell.

“It’s not just my heart that will break if this doesn’t work,” you whispered as your eyes fluttered shut and you surrendered yourself to him.

“Then we will just have to make this work.”

[ao3lestappeninchident]

Can you do yapper Max where he comes back from night out and is drunk. Reader tries to help him get ready for bed and he just tells her the most random things

Drunk yapping

Max verstappen x reader

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

You were seated on the couch, blanket firm in your hands as the tenth plot twist happened in your horror movie. A soft yell left your mouth by the look of a couple cut of limbs as the scene became black. The music added a high suspense to the whole movement as you wanted to look away. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to watch it alone and without Max home, you thought.

The camera moved to an abandoned staircase as the music became louder and louder. Just when a door moved open and a face came out, a knock on the moved your attention away. You paused it and got up from the couch to walk towards the door. Looking trough the eye whole you saw Daniel holding Max in his hands.

You smile as you open up the door. Max was losely hanging into Daniels side as he kept on rambling his mouth. Daniel looked a bit irritated, but his smile was as big as ever. "Hi, y/n. I am sorry if I woke you, but Max is being a pain in my ass." you laughed as you made room for Daniel to walk inside. The Australian throws Max on the couch and a loud giggle is heard from your boyfriend.

"Don't worry. I know how Max is when he has a bit too much to drink. I hope he wasn't too annoying." you walked towards the kitchen to grab two glasses of water, Daniel may be less drunk but it was clear he had something to drink too. He thanked you as you gave him a glass of water before moving to sit next to Max.

You held out the glass of water for Max to grab. Max grabs the glass of water and shoots it down his throat like a shot. He sets the glass on the table with trouble and he groans before laying his head in your lap.

Daniel laughs at his friend's antics before walking to the door, "I leave you alone. Carlos is waiting for me in the car. And no, he did not drink." you wave him goodbye and you are left alone with your drunken boyfriend.

"Did you have fun?" you move your fingers through his hair and he nods. Max looks so pretty like this. His hair is ruined and standing in every way, his cheeks are flushing red and the top buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned. He always get it hot when he drowns his third G&T of the night.

"Very, but I did miss you. No one wanted to talk to me." Max pouts and you let out a little laugh at the adoring side. "Every time I said something, they moved away."

You stood up from the couch, "You can tell them to me while we get you ready for bed." Max face lits up and he stands up next to you. He stumbles a bit over his feet and you are quick to grab him by his arms. Together you walk to the bedroom as Max begins to speak.

"There was a cat tonight. I don't know how he made it inside, but he walked up to me, so of course I had to cuddle with him. Did you know cats have 30 teeth. I accidentally moved too close to a place he didn't like and I felt his teeth and you saw like a lot. I didn't hurt, he couldn't help it. " Max rambled and you listened closely to what he said. Of course the first thing was about cats, when didn't he talk about cats?

You helped him sit down on a chair in the corner of the bedroom and walked to the dresser to grab some pajamas. " I did not know they had 30 teeth. It is a surprise you didn't take him home."

"I wanted to, but a security person grabbed it from my hands to bring it outside. I couldn't find him after." Max answered with a sad tone. You saw how he had tried to untie his shoes, but the ties were now pulled fast instead of lose. You shook your head and knelt down you untied them. Max had to keep himself from falling backwards as his eyes close from the busy night.

"People always think cats like milk, but they are actually lactose intolerant. They aren't able to digest the lactose and if they have too much they will be vomiting. Of course a little bit wouldn't hurt too much, but too much is bad for them." Max slurred over his words as you finally pulled off his shoes. "Thank you,"

"Also i read somewhere that animals can have a different time feeling then humans. Smaller animals need more time to progress the movements and time will be slower for them. Like a lizard has slower time then a cat, but a tiger would be further in time than a cat. So technical animals and humans live in different time zones."

"That's strange. That they all live in different moment of time. " you answer while pulling his shirt over his head. "Hands up," you say and Max arms shoot in the air, almost hitting your face by accident, but he is too tired to see. You laugh as you try to pull on his pajama shirt, wich you know if going to be thrown of in the middle of the night when he has it to warm.

After some time Max had finished his teeth and was now sitting on the edge of the bed while you put on your pajama. "Thank you for helping me."

"No worries." you kiss his head and he pulls you in for a hug. "Lets get some rest tonight."

[mickyschumacher]

can you please do a Carlos imagine where Carlos and Y/N are out partying after a race. Y/N gets approached by a drunk and inappropriate guy who either trys to touch her says some inappropriate things, and Carlos steps in. He’s the crazy protective boyfriend, and he ends up getting into a fight with the guy. Carlos gets cut by a broken beer bottle during the fight, so Y/N gets to care for his wound, and basically gets to play nurse on Carlos

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after winning the australian grand prix, carlos and you decide to take on some partying. what you didn't expect was to end the night nursing your boyfriend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slightly suggestive at the end (16+), depictions of blood and fighting, reader is harassed by creepy ugly disgusting man, mentions of alcohol, small consolation, poor humour, google translated spanish by yours truly, fluff, and lastly, shitty proof-reading

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x girlfriend!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.3k

𝐀/𝐍: so so sorry it took this long! i didn't go fully for smut because idk if you wanted it but i'm happy to make a part two in the near future! hope you enjoyed it ♡︎

𝐀/𝐍: welcome to my drabble/blurb phase because i, for the life, of me cannot produce long fics consistently despite constantly having ideas! although i am redefining the meaning of drabbles and blurbs with this word count :)

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The Australian Grand Prix. The third race into the season. Max had won the last two, predictably setting the tone for the rest of the year. Carlos, on the other hand, needed to up his game.

You were together when you found out he had lost his seat for the following year. Boy, were you gutted. Carlos had done everything in his power, forever compared to Ferrari's golden boy. He liked Charles, but what the fuck was he supposed to do with this type of treatment? And to make matters worse, Lewis was a great driver pulling great results in shit car.

Carlos needed to win. He needed to be the most wanted in that damn paddock. And while Max was winning so far, the universe often has it's odd ways.

Even if that was in the form of fiery flames on Max's brakes in the opening laps.

You remembered it as clear as day.

You were in as much disbelief as anyone else, eyes widened as Max's car slowed, grey smoke billowing out of the rear while even the Haas and Williams surpassed him.

Your eyes hesitantly moved to the large screens in the garage, zoning in on the number one row to see Carlos' name sprawled next to it. A gasp fell from your lips, eyes averting to a shouting Oñoro before you hugged each other with shaky hands.

Your heart was in your ears, thudding in echoes. Hands sticky at your sides as you watched the the last lap. You knew the outcome. Yet you couldn't stomach it. With a tight throat, you weren't sure if you going to throw up or break into tears.

Instead of your heartbeat, you found the roars of Ferrari deafening. Flashes of white cameras mixed with the air as the sun warmed your golden boy. Looking up through your lashes, you caught his gleaming smile before catching the feel of his lips on yours.

Carlos had won. He was the most wanted driver in the damn paddock.

And that deserved a celebration.

You and Carlos weren't ones for partying. Not unless it was with the right people. And there was nothing more right than a Grand Prix winner and all his supporters in one place.

It was packed. Bodies so close together, full of sweaty rivulets amongst the humidity and strobe lights. The music felt foundational as it coursed from your feet and into your veins.

Carlos watched you dance in front of him. You were remarkable. Skin so flushed that in even in the flickering lights, you radiated. Your hair stuck to your glittering skin, but nowhere near as close as the dress you had worn for him.

He smiled softly at the cheeky gaze your gave him, large hand reaching out to grab your waist. His cheek skimmed your face as he pressed a kiss onto your cheek. "You're killing me."

"All in a day's work," you quipped, hanging your hands around his neck. You could hear Carlos' huff of amusement over the pulsing music. You held those brown puppy eyes, drinking them in, you smiled. "I'm proud of you, cariño."

The humour on his face faded, replaced by a moment of fulfilment. His other hand moved to caress your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. His thumb moved in small soothing circles. "Thank you."

His words sounded like a whisper in the loudness, but you could hear how much it meant to him as much as you could see it.

You lifted your head up, bringing your lips to his. Carlos' grip on your waist tightened, his own lips quirking into a smile as you kissed him with the entirety of your heart. Gone was any trace of alcohol or humidity in the air. All you could feel, smell, and taste was Carlos. And you loved it.

Breathlessly, you begrudgingly moved away from Carlos, taking a moment to come up for air.

"Let me get you a drink, hermosa," Carlos offered, grinning at the jut of your lips as you pouted. "I'll be back soon. Fastest pitstop ever."

You laughed loudly, throwing your head back, entirely unaware of the mystical trance you had brought Carlos into. With the nod of your head, you gestured for him to go on.

Watching the retreating figure of Carlos, you found yourself amused and entertained at the sight of Lando's valiant DJing efforts. Another driver who was enjoying his first podium of the year.

You were only moving lightly to the music, waiting for Carlos with little patience. But the sudden cold shiver that had travelled up your body had set the alarms off in your mind. Your throat felt dry at the unfamiliar hand on your shoulder and your body felt uneasy upon looking at the sleazy stranger.

"Hello, sweetheart! How are you doing?" The Australian accent was exceptionally loud over the music and the alcohol reeked, particularly from the beer bottle in his hand.

You winced, trying to keep a fake smile at bay. "Great," you murmured, attempting to move your shoulder away from him but the man's fingers were latched.

"Aw, now don't be like that," he retorted, taking a step closer to you. "Let's dance... get to know each other a little, hmm?"

The hairs of your body stood straight. "I... my boyfriend will be here soon, then we can get to know each other."

You wanted to shrivel into a ball at the sickening laugh that had fallen from the stranger's lips. "Oh, he doesn't need to know anything. Come on, baby," he egged, bottled-hand suddenly finding your waist, "can't you feel how much I want you?"

Bile found it's way up your throat but you managed to keep it down. "No, I don't," you said sharply, "you need to leave."

You tried to move your hands away from him, pushing at his chest, but his grip was only getting tighter, moving down your body in the most repulsing manner. What the hell? Suddenly you felt like you were all alone in this club. Where the hell was everyone?

"She said leave."

You snapped your head to the familiar Spanish voice, relief flooding into your system but only momentarily as the scenario escalated at an unearthly speed.

Your eyes widened, feeling a mix of warm and cold air rush past your body as the stranger was ripped off of you and thrown to the ground. Shit.

You couldn't gather what was even going on. Carlos was straddling the man, pummelling him repeatedly. The music, you think, has stopped. A crowd had formed. Lando and Oñoro had quickly made their way, trying to diffuse the situation.

Your heart skipped a few beats as Carlos took a few hits himself. And the sound of glass shattering bordered on you having a heart attack. Fuck, fuck, this was bad. You could see people pull out their phones, recording, which only baffled you even more.

You aided Oñoro in pulling Carlos away, sucking in a sharp breath at the string of angry curses falling your boyfriend's mouth, moving between English to Spanish. "¡Jodido gilipollas! ¿Quién coño te crees que eres? That's my girlfriend, you creep. ¡Nunca la toques con esas asquerosas manos! ¡Te joderé si te vuelvo a ver!" Fucking asshole! Who the fuck do you think you are? That's my girlfriend, you creep. Don't ever touch her with those disgusting hands! I will fuck you up if I ever see you again!"

"Es suficiente, Carlos," you appeased, urging him to stay away as you began to spot the runs of blood down the sides of his face and neck, mixed in with the loose beer. That's enough, Carlos.

You still weren't sure what was going on. You had no idea where Oñoro had gone after sending you and Carlos to your hotel room because, God forbid, Carlos' PR team had a lot of work to do, legally and socially.

Lando had briefly dropped in, grabbing a first aid kid from the hotel staff before leaving with Oñoro.

You quietly watched Carlos walk into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, water covering his body as he had washed off all the beer and blood.

Carlos captured the pained look on your face, eyeing the patches of red skin across his chest and the nicks on his face. He sighed, holding in a wince as he sat next to you. "I'm fine, hermo–"

"You are an idiot," you cut him off, handing him the ice pack you had made from the hotel's materials. "Hold this on your chest, it'll reduce the swelling."

You leaned in the further, trying to take a better look at him. A frown made it's way onto your face. The more you looked, the worse you felt. The red patches on his chest, the bruised cheek, and the worst of all, the horrid gash across his hand.

Carlos carefully watched you chew your lip, tediously grabbing his injured hand, inspecting the wound. The pain which had gotten worse in midst of his shower quickly began to dissipate at your touch. If there was any stinging pain, he couldn't feel it, even when you had cleaned the gash.

"Why didn't you call me?" Carlos queried, breaking the thick silence that had been held over you.

You paused your cleaning, briefly flickering your eyes to his face before quickly averting in the fear you would be sucked up into a whole new problem in those luring brown eyes. Furrowing your brows, you resumed. "I had it under control," you lied with a determined stubbornness.

Carlos laughed softly in amusement before wincing at the stretch of his bruised cheek. He sighed. "I don't doubt that you did," he started, hand reaching out to gently move your chin towards him, "but you should've come and found me. Or even Oñoro or Lando."

You couldn't help but return a sigh, hesitantly putting the antiseptic onto his hand, awaiting any jerking reaction. You realised he was waiting for some sort of response, ignoring any pain shooting up his fingers. "I know," you told him, "I just... froze."

Carlos softened his eyes. "Cãrino... I'm sorry you had to go through that. I-I should've stayed. Are you okay?"

You gave him a pointed look. He had already asked you that, mere seconds after you had pulled him away from the fight. You held back an eye roll at the raised brows Carlos gave you. "I'm fine, Carlos. I'm not the one beat up."

"If I got there any later..." Carlos trailed off, unsure if he was sick or angry at the thought.

You paused, almost falling into the same train of thought but you shook it off. You grabbed the roll of bandage, unravelling the strip of white around his hand. "But you didn't," you reassured, giving him a small smile. Carlos smiled, nodding in agreement.

"Can we exterminate men?"

A laugh quickly fell from your lips at the question. God, how many times have you thought about that one before?

You finished wrapping the bandage, tying a small secure knot before grabbing the ice pack from his other hand. Inching closer to him, you gently pressed the ice on his cheek. "And what about you then?"

Carlos raised a brow, using his free hand to pull you onto his lap. You gasped at the coldness on your waist as waves of cold flushed your body. "I'm excluded from this... obviously."

"Obviously," you repeated, rolling your eyes. "Are you sure though? Because I wouldn't mind it," you teased.

"Really?" Carlos narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer to you. "You wouldn't mind no kisses, no hugs, no... touches?"

All of a sudden your throat felt dry at his words. His cold fingers ghosting down the side of your neck with a following trail of goosebumps. And yet you felt hot.

You pretended to ponder for a minute, trying your absolute best to ignore the brown eyes watching you or the fingers grazing your chest. "I think I'm okay with it," you whispered.

Carlos stopped moving his hand and gave you a dry look. "Well I'm not," he childishly retorted before bringing his lips to yours.

His lips were soft as per usual, taking you by surprise with the intensity of this kiss. You could feel his arm tighten around your waist, warmth spreading across your body as his bandaged hand gently held your face.

You were melting at his touch. His tongue was navigating your mouth, consuming your very being. You could feel his hand adjust you on his lap, letting you feel something else entirely.

Carlos' breath hitched at the feel of you hand snaking up his bare thigh, inching closer and closer to where he was aching the most. His hand shot out, covering your own through the towel he was wearing.

You parted from his lips, raising a brow with a panting chest. You could see his lust-ridden eyes, practically begging for you do to do more.

"Take it back."

You mended your brows. What on earth was he... oh.... oh.

With a firm sigh, you relented. "Fine, you won't be exterminated. I guess... it would be hard to live without you."

Carlos grinned, satisfied with your answer. "True... and we would have the hardest job of all."

"And what's that?" You asked, eagerly awaiting his response with perked ears.

Carlos' injury-free hand stretched out, moving your hair behind your ears before grazing past your cheek and landing on your lips. He smiled widely. "To repopulate the earth, hermosa."

You gasped, instinctively hitting his chest. "Carlos!"

The Spaniard dramatically winced at the action, holding his bandaged hand to his chest.

"Mierda," you cursed, "I'm so sorry, cariño." Your eyes darted around, ensuring you hadn't made anything worse.

Carlos tapped your thigh, directing your attention to him. "Can we go back to repopulating the earth now?"

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[livwritessometimes]

Where's the Trophy? He Just Comes Running Over to Me (Part 2)

: Carlos Sainz, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc

: Part 1

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - Here is the part 2. Let me know if you guys want me to do more fics like these. If you have any requests feel free to send em!!…Also lmk if you guys want to be added to the overall taglist

...

Carlos Sainz

What if I told you I'm back? The hospital was a drag

(Australian Grand Prix, 2024)

"What a performance!"

"What a comeback!"

"A Ferrari 1-2, headed by Carlos Sainz who wins the Australian Grand Prix!!!"

Y/n couldn't believe it. Standing next to Carlos' dad and cousin, she could feel the two pull her in for a hug. It was when she felt his dad wipe a tear from her eye that she realized she was crying. "I'm so proud of him," said Carlos Sainz Sr. 

She could see that very clearly. It was evident from the look on his face that he was proud of Carlos, and frankly, it was a relief to see that. The past few weeks have not been the best for all of them, especially Carlos, Y/n and his father. 

*past*

The day they got to know about his surgery, they all dropped everything they were doing to be there with Carlos as he got his appendix removed. 

The road to recovery had been tough. There were several speculations going on about Carlos not being signed again by Ferrari, so he did everything in his power to prove to everyone, especially the team, that he deserved the seat more than anyone. But as he got out of his surgery, the only thing he could think about was all the criticism he had received.

Y/n spent every second with him during his road to recovery. 

"You do know this isn't the end, right?" she had questioned Carlos the day before the Australian Grand Prix.

"Maybe, but it doesn't feel like that," Carlos said as he turned to face her on the couch.

"Need I remind you that you're the same Carlos Sainz who broke Max's streak last year after winning the Singapore Grand Prix," Y/n said with a proud smile. 

"And one of the 3 people who won a Grand Prix last year," she continued.

Carlos looked at her with a smile. "Yes," he said.

"Exactly, so why are you so worried about proving all the haters wrong? You have nothing to prove to anyone. So when you're out there in that car, the only thing you better be worrying about is not hurting yourself," Y/n said before she added, "because if you get hurt while driving, I swear to god the haters will be the least of your worries," she said as she slowly caressed his check.

"Yes, mi amor," Carlos said before kissing the palm of her hand that was caressing his cheek.

*present*

Standing with his family Y/n waited for Carlos to get out of his car. As soon as he got close to them, Y/n pulled Carlos in for a hug. "I'm so proud of you, Carlos; I can't describe just how proud of you I am," Y/n said, pulling him in closer.

"I can tell Mi querida, you're crushing me a little," Carlos said as he laughed, looking down at Y/n.

Wiping away the tears from her cheek, Carlos pulled her in for a kiss. "Don't you have a trophy to get?" Y/n questioned breaking the kiss.

"I do," Carlos replied before pulling her back in.

Standing on top of the podium, Carlos looked at his father and cousin, looking back at him with a proud look on their faces. He then looked at his girlfriend standing next to them, who was looking back at him as if he were the only person standing there, winking at her, Carlos stood straight for the national anthem. 

There was one thing clear now: no matter what happened, if he stayed in Ferrari or not, he would always have Y/n by his side, and that's what mattered at the end of the day for him.

...

Oscar Piastri

These blokes warm the benches We been on a winning streak

(Hungarian Grand Prix, 2024)

Oscar knows that he should be happy. He did it. He finally won his first ever Grand Prix. But he was feeling anything but happy.

The situation that led to this win made him feel uneasy. The messed-up strategy and the swap, all made Oscar feel like he didn't deserve to celebrate this win. To make things worse, none of his loved ones were there to witness this. His mom and sisters were back in Australia, Mark was travelling, and the person he wanted the most to be there, his girlfriend, was back home, probably watching the race in her 'I love Oscar' t-shirt that she got as a joke when he first signed for McLaren.

Driving to park at the spot for the Grand Prix winner, Oscar thought about what the news outlets have been saying about him. 'Oscar Piastri to Become the Next Face of F1' 'Future All-Time King of F1', Oscar let out a bitter laugh, remembering that. What is the point of getting better and better at every race if the first race you win, the one that you're going to remember forever, happens like how it did? 

Before he could even get out of his car, Oscar was congratulated by Lando. He could sense the tension between then. Oscar knows it's not their fault that there is this tension lingering between the two, but there was nothing that either of them could do about it. 

Smiling, he softly said, "Thanks, mate," before he got out of the car and towards the team. 

After being congratulated by the team, Oscar was making his way towards the cooldown room when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw his girlfriend standing in front of him, and just as he had thought, in her 'I love Oscar' t-shirt. 

"What are you doing here?" Oscar said before he practically threw himself at her.

Laughing, Y/n hugged him back while replying, "I wanted to surprise you, but you surprised me instead," Y/n said as she pulled away.

"I can't believe you won!!!," Y/n said as she pulled him in for a kiss.

"Ya, neither can I," Oscar said.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you excited?" Y/n asked. She knew why he was like this. She knew very well what was going on inside Oscar's head.

"Nothing; it's just that this doesn't feel right," Oscar said. 

He continued, "Like winning your first Grand Prix is supposed to be a joyful occasion, but I can't help but feel like this win was given to me."

Y/n gently placed both her hands on Oscar's face, making him look at her, "Oscar Jack Piastri, don't tell me you're doubting your skills, definitely not after the way you raced today. You were absolutely amazing out there, and nothing can change that," she said.

"You deserve this win more than anything. I don't care what anyone says, but this trophy has your name written all over it. So you better go up there and celebrate like you believe in this win as much as I believe in it," Y/n said.

Oscar looked back at her, wondering what good he had done in his past life to have someone like Y/n in his life. 

"You hear me?" Y/n questioned, looking at him with so much determination that Oscar couldn't help but smile back at here after nodding his head.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"Good! Now quickly go; I have to facetime Nicole so she can see the celebration as well," Y/n said, giving Oscar a final kiss before making her way to get a better spot to see the entire celebration.

Covered in confetti and champaign, Oscar smiled as he saw Y/n and his mom on FaceTime, watching the entire celebration.

Oscar doesn't know if feeling like he didn't deserve this first win will be something he remembers 20 years down the line, but he sure knows that he will remember Y/n surprising him when he needed her the most.

...

Charles Leclerc

Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me

(Monaco Grand Prix, 2024)

Charles finally did it. He broke the Monaco curse.

DNF in 2018

DNF in 2019

DNF in 2021

Strategy error in 2022

6th in 2023

Winning the Monaco Grand Prix almost felt impossible to Charles. Years of bad decisions had made him lose faith in himself.

Charles refused to believe in the Monaco curse. Because how can the place he loves the most, the place where he was born and raised, the place he was desperate to make proud, actually be against him winning?

He refused to believe in the Monaco curse. Because what if it is actually true? What if, no matter what he did, he could never win his home race? Charles refused to think about this, and this is what made him want this win even more desperately.

His entire family was there watching him, waiting to see him win. His brothers and their girlfriends were all at the edge of their seats as the last lap of the race began.

His girlfriend, however, remained seated. Y/n remained glued to the seat. She refused to move from her spot, fearing she might miss something if she moved even the slightest.

4 more corners to do. 3 more corners. 2 more corners. 1 more…

The entire area erupted into cheers. Lorenzo and Charlotte were hugging each other in disbelief of what they had just witnessed.

All the noises had faded for Y/n. All she could see was Charles; all she could think about was Charles. She could not express in words what she was feeling. Wiping away a tear that had rolled down her face, she was engulfed in a hug by Enzo and Charlotte.

Charles was not afraid to show his excitement as soon as he got out of the car. Screaming out of pure joy, he could not have felt more alive than he did right now.

Without removing his helmet or waiting for the photographers to capture him in the iconic number 1 position, Charles ran. It was as if his feet had a mind of their own.

Charles ran till he reached the area where his team was waiting for him. His eyes frantically searched the sea of red, trying to find the pair of eyes he desperately needed to see.

Suddenly his brother Arthur and a few of the team members parted to reveal a teary-eyed Y/n standing with the team.

Charles ran straight into her arms.

No words were exchanged for a few minutes. It was as if they did not need words to convey what they wanted to say.

Finally Y/n broke the silence, "You did it, Mon bébé."

"I did," Charles said, pulling back to look at her.

"You broke the Monaco Curse," Y/n said laughing, knowing that there was nothing anyone could say to Charles now.

"I did," Charles replied, still holding onto Y/n.

"Are you going to say anything besides 'I did' or is that all you know now?" Arthur chimed in after hearing his brother's exchange with his girlfriend.

Y/n laughed looking at Arthur before turning towards Charles, waiting for him to answer his brother's question.

"Marry me," Charles finally said.

Both Y/n and Arthur were shocked; none of them were expecting this. Arthur thought that his brother was going to follow the plan he, Enzo, and Charles had come up with for him to propose to Y/n. What he did not expect was for this brother to do it today.

Y/n, on the other hand, had not seen this coming. It was now her turn to remain silent for a few minutes. And these few minutes felt like hell for Charles.

"Yes," she finally said.

"What?" Charles asked.

"Yes! I said yes, I will marry you, Charlie," she said as she kissed Charles' helmet.

"SHE SAID YES," Arthur yelled to let everyone there know that his brother had not only won the Monaco Grand Prix but also got the girl of his dreams.

...

Tags: @wobblymug | @evasmlp

[theemporium]

don't usually request but you hit 10k on my birthday and i had something on my mind

maybe some slow build up of smut-berry with 47 for oscar where they couldn't celebrate her birthday because of the australian grand prix falling on the same weekend and her family wanted to be with her, so when they see each other again he decides to do everything he can to make it up to her...

idk i love ur writing 🧡

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

47. “You heard me. I want you to sit on my face.”

.

Oscar loved being a Formula One driver. 

It was his ultimate dream as a kid and now it was a reality. He knew he was luckier than most, getting to a job he loved so dearly. And he knew not many people even made it to Formula One and stayed. But he was lucky and he never took it for granted, even if there were downsides to the job. 

The media wasn’t his favourite thing in the world. And the conferences and interviews got a bit tedious every other weekend. The constant jet lag also wasn’t ideal. And he didn’t really fully grasp the world fame sometimes, it was hard to forget he was just another guy showing up at his job every weekend. 

But the worst was the important dates and events he missed because of his job. The events and duties he could not get out of no matter what because they were a part of his contract. He missed out on important things for the most important people in his life. 

Like your birthday. 

“M’sorry,” Oscar apologised for the umpteenth time as he laid in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling above him as he held his phone to his ear. “I really tried to find a way out of it but Zak said no and—”

“Oscar, baby, it’s okay,” you smiled softly as you leaned back in your seat, a cup of coffee in your hand. “I know you would be here if you could. I promise I don’t mind, it just means we can have our own celebration later.” 

His lips twitched at the thought. “I am gonna give you the best late-birthday party ever.” 

You hummed. “Oh yeah? Tell me about it, Piastri.” 

“Gonna book us to go away somewhere,” Oscar said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Somewhere we can hide. Just me and you and the sun.” 

“That sounds nice,” you sighed, almost wistfully. “It’s raining here.”

“No rain, promise,” he assured you. “Every night we are there, we will dress up and go out. I’ll even wear that shirt you really like—the black one.” 

“Oh, you’re spoiling me,” you teased but your smile only widened as you continued to listen.” 

“Maybe try some new things as well,” Oscar continued as he closed his eyes, listening to hum as a way to tell him to elaborate. “Maybe we can go paragliding. Or go on a safari. Maybe you can sit on my face.” 

You spluttered, your eyes widening in response as you quickly placed your coffee cup down and wiped your hand across your face. “Oscar!” 

He tried not to smile. “What?” 

“You—” You cleared your throat a little, your cheeks burning as you tried to find your words. “Huh?” 

“You heard me. I want you to sit on my face,” Oscar said, deadpan and so-Oscar that it made your head spin a little knowing he was dead serious. “Think you’ll look really pretty from that angle, perfect for the birthday girl.”

You shook your head. “You need to be muzzled.” 

“We can try that too, if that’s something you’re into,” Oscar retorted, laughing a little when you let out another incoherent squeak. “Don’t die, baby, we have a holiday to look forward to together.”

“Fuck off, Piastri.” 

“We are gonna do a lot of fucking—”

“Oscar!”

.

[maxillness]

Satisfy The Fans || LH44 x RB driver!Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, angst (?), (implied) age gap, fake dating, drunken confession, mutual pining, slow burn,

Wordcount: 3.1k

From the start of her f1 career, she had always had a close relationship with Lewis, so the small pecks on the forehead she got from him wasn’t abnormal, but when it got caught by a paparazzi, it turned the whole internet towards them

Paddock affair: Hamilton and young driver

That was the days headline. She sat scrolling on her phone when she heard the bickering from the garage

She had yet to read it herself, but the small talks from behind her got her curious

“What are you whispering about back there?” She turned her head behind her to see Max, Christian and a few mechanics standing in a small circle

They all froze when they heard her voice. None of them answered, but it was clear they had heard her, so they couldn’t exactly ignore her

Christian was the one to speak up after he cleared his throat “Are you… Dating Hamilton?” He asked, hesitation obvious in his eyes

“What?” She was confused by his question “No. What makes you think that?” She asked with knitted eyebrows

He looked back into his phone and read aloud from it “Paddock affair: Hamilton and young driver. During the Australian qualifying sessions, Lewis Hamilton and Y/N Y/L/N was seeing kissing” He locked his phone and looked back up at her

“Huh?” She was even more confused “Did you get that from twitter? I’ve never kissed Lewis in my entire life” She explained “It was a peck on my forehead. He does it all the time” She shrugged

“So you’re telling me they’re lying?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest

“Yes. Yes, I am” She chuckled, turning back to her phone “Don’t believe everything you reading on the internet, Christian. Especially if it’s on twitter”

After the race that Sunday, she came knocking on Lewis’ hotel door “You’ve read the rumours?” She pushed past him, not even bothering to greet him

“I have, yeah” He watched as she kicked off her shoes and threw her body onto the bed, messing up the sheets “Wine?”

“Do you have something stronger?” She asked, drawing out a chuckle from him

“Anything specific in mind?” He asked, watching her roll over on her stomach, her hair already a mess

“Anything above 25% and I’ll be happy” She sat up, leaning against the headboard as he found whatever alcohol he could

“We drink too much” She sighed as he came over with a bottle and two glasses

“Who cares?” He asked, sitting down on the bed with her

“Other than our livers, kidneys, and doctors, nobody” She said, watching her glass getting filled up with liquor

They sat for a few hours, drinking and talking, feeling the alcohol really start to kick in as they neared midnight

“What if we actually dated?” He asked, earning a pair of raised eyebrows from her “I’m not suggesting we date, I’m just saying, what do you think the internet would be like if we actually dated?”

“They wouldn’t get out of our faces, I think” She said, emptying her glass down her throat, too used to it to feel the burn

He just looked at her as she pouted from the empty glass “You want to, don’t you?” She asked, seeing the glint in his eye when she looked back at him

“We both know we don’t have feelings for each other, but it would be fun to see, Y’know?” He said, switching their glasses so she had his filled one and his were empty

“You know what? Let’s fake date, Lew” She took out her hand like they were making a deal

“Get that hand away” He slapped her hand away with a laugh on his lips

“Imagine all the fans were gonna satisfy” She said, another empty glass in her hands

For the next race, they had both informed their PR managers, but no one else, and they made sure to be seen as much as possible out in public together, as well as in the paddock

They arrived together at the paddock, talk in between practice sessions, and whenever it was possible to get some free time

Saturday after qualifying, they took a stroll down the city. They hadn’t realised the time, and they had stayed out until late

It was getting dark and cold in the streets, but it was too beautiful to go back to the hotel. They walked a few steps before Lewis stopped in his tracks

“What?” She turned around, looking up at him

“Let’s satisfy the fans, no?” She didn’t get to answer before he had pulled her body into his, holding her face with one hand as the other were on her waist, kissing her lips soft

She was too startled to kiss back, yet her hands were placed softly on his waist. He pulled back slightly, looking at her surprised expression

“There’s a paparazzi across the street. Wanna make it believable, right?” He smiled as he surprised state faded into a friendly smile

“Idiot” She slapped his chest softly before she were able to get out of his grip and started walking again

“You told us you weren’t dating” Max came bursting into her drivers room without knocking, making her yelp slightly

“Jeez, ever heard about knocking?” He just stood there silently “Anyway… What are you talking about?”

She watched as he took out his phone, typing at it. She took the phone from him when he handed it too her

She was met by the image of her and Lewis the day before, standing in each others arms kissing

“Oh, yeah. That was taken yesterday, Max” She explained, handing him his phone back “So what I told you was technically the truth”

“So you are dating?” He asked surprised

“Yes. Yes, we are” She said, standing up from the couch, walking past him to get out into the garage again

“Uh-uh. We aren’t done here” He said, following behind her like a lost puppy

“Since when did you start caring about my love life?” She sighed, walking over to her side

“Since it evolved the rival” He whispered, pulling her out to the said

“Look, Max, it’s not like I’m gonna bring it on to the track. People can have separate relationships on and off the track. Do you trust me to make this work?” He nodded but not without hesitation “Thank you”

Soon enough, all the drivers had heard about their ‘relationship’, as well as the team principals

“Y/N, how did your relationship with Lewis start?” She hadn’t thought about the interviews when they made their agreement

“Well, we’ve always had a close relationship as friends, and I guess that we slowly realised our feelings for each other the more time we spend with each other” She explained, coming up with a lie as quick as she could

“That’s actually quite sweet” The interviewer smiled “How are you handling all the hate?”

“We’re both handling it fine. I think people should get love who they love despite their age gap, as long as it’s a reasonable range, of course” She said, fiddling with her fingers

“Alright, thank you, Y/N” She walked away after a quick goodbye

“You okay?” Lewis had grabbed her attention before she had fully stomped off

“‘M fine” Her voice was telling the absolute opposite

“Come here” He pulled her body close into a hug, his lips meeting the top of her head, soothing her back down to earth

“Thank you, Lew” She pulled away and walked towards her crew who led her back to her drivers room

“Can we get back to the interview, Lewis?” The interviewer asked as his eyes still lingered on her body walking away

“Of course, sorry” He said, turning his head back to the person in front of him

“It’s quite alright. You two are very cute together” She said, making Lewis smile the slightest “Now, how did this begin- the relationship between you two?”

“We’ve always been close friends, and I guess the more we hung out and knew each other, our feeling for each other became more than friendly” The only thoughts in his head at the moment; what would it be like to actually date her?

Their act has been going on for half a year now, and it was going good, she still got startled when he kissed her after seeing a paparazzi and she didn’t. She would never get used to the feeling of his lips against hers

They were in her hotel room, sharing a bottle of whatever liquor they had, talking about everything and nothing

After about half an hour, he called it quits and said he had to go to sleep, so he went back to his own room a floor under her

As soon as he had closed the hotel door to her room, she took her phone out, typing up Max’ name

Can you come in here? I need your help with sm

Give me 2

About those two minutes went by before she heard the knock on her door “Thank god” She said relived as he stepped into the room

“What do you need help with?” He asked, sensing the worries in her body language

“Lewis” She watched as he knitted his eye brows together “I don’t know if he loves me” She had started to feel the changes a month after they started ‘dating’

He had become more caring, more sweet, more like a boyfriend than the friend she used to have

“What do you mean? Of course he does” He said, sitting down on the edge of the bed “I’ve seen the way he looks at you”

“Yeah, but that’s all an act. He doesn’t love me like I love him” Max became even more confused by her words

“All an act? What?” His face was pure confusion

“Me and Lewis never dated, not really anyways” She sighed, sitting down on the bed as well

“We fake dated to see what would happen” She said once she saw his expression

“Okay” He nodded slightly “So what makes you think he doesn’t have feelings for you?” He asked, wanting to help her

“The day we started ‘dating’, he said ‘we both know we don’t have feelings for each other’, and I get that, we’re good friends. I don’t think he ever would have feelings for me” She explained, feelings her throat almost close up

“I’m positive he doesn’t have feelings for me, Max” He sighed hearing her words

“Wait, so you’re telling me you two never dated?” George was as confused as Max had been just a minute ago

“Did any other words come out of my mouth?” Lewis asked, tone full of sarcasm

“Wow, getting sassy early” George said, raising his eyebrows at his teammate

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do. She obviously doesn’t have feeling for me” He slumped down on the couch, the air coming out in a huff

“You could just talk to her, tell her how it is” George shrugged, trying to help his teammate

“And risk loosing our friendship? No thank you. Rather live like this than without her” Lewis explained, thinking of all the bad things that could happen if he told her

She just wished she could tell him

He just wished he could tell her

Abu Dhabi rolled around, and she had going at it with the partying for a while before she had headed to bed

Around 1:30am, she heard a knock on the door that startled her awake. Now that she was awake, she could just answer the door

“Lewis?” Her eyes was still blurry from the fact she still wasn’t fully awake

“Can I come in?” His words were slurred, very obviously drunk

She sighed as she took in the state of him “Sure, baby” The pet names was something they had agreed on was okay, and they were used so much in public it had gotten into their private lives as well

She closed the door behind him as he took a few steps in. She barely got to turn around before he was spilling words at her

“I love you. I love you so, so much. I have loved you since we started dating, and I can’t keep it in anymore” He had taken her face into his hands

“Lewis-“ “Just let me love you” He had pulled her face into his kiss her softly. She put her hands on his chest, pushing him away

“You’re drunk, Lewis. You don’t know what you’re saying” She said, taking his hands away from her face, pulling them down to rest at his side

“What is it that they say? ‘Drunk words are sober thoughts’” He said, taking a step closer to her

“Lewis, you’re too drunk to be allowed to speak. Will you just go to bed?” She asked, letting him take that step forward

“Will you join me?” He asked, obvious hurt in his eyes

“Do you promise to sleep?” He nodded, not daring to speak “Then I will” She sighed, starting to guide him over to the bed

He got out of his jeans before she got him under the covers. She laid down beside his already dozing off body

He scooted closer to her, curling his body into her arms, sighing at the feeling of her warm body

As he woke up, she wasn’t in bed

“Morning” She said, handing him a glass of water and a two painkillers of some kind

He sat up right, taking the glass and pills “What would I do without you. I love you” He swallowed the pills before taking a sip of the water

“I know. You already said that today” She said, sitting back down on the bed

“What? When?” He was confused, remembering nothing of the sort

“Around 1:30 after you woke me up” She explained

“Oh my god. I am so sorry, really, I am” He looked away from her

“Lew, it’s fine-“ “No, it’s not. I’m really sor-“ He was silenced when she had forced his head towards her and had connected their lips

“I love you too, Lewis” She had pulled slightly back, seeing his pupils darken, taking the brown in them away

“You do?” He asked softly, almost like his words got stuck in his throat “Like, you *really* do?” A smile formed in the corner of his mouth as he put the glass onto the nightstand

She kissed him again, proving her point. He groaned into the kiss as it got more sloppy and heated

He had gotten her pinned down to the bed, lips going from her mouth and down her neck, leaving a few lovebites behind as he moved to the other side of her neck

“Lew, please” She whined, bucked her hips up into his, trying to get more friction

He scooted down the bed, his lips landing on the insides of her bare thighs. His fingers hooked into the waist band of her shorts, pulling them down

She whined as his lips made their way back to her inner thighs, leaving marks behind

“Please, Lewis. I need you so bad” Her breath stuttered as he pulled her panties down slowly, his fingers ghosting her skin

He wasted no time to draw his tongue through her wet folds the moment her panties were removed

“Fuck, Lew” She bucked her hips into his mouth, gripping the sheets beneath her harshly

She moaned loud when his tongue settled on her clit, putting pleasurable pressure on it

“Lewis, please” She arched her back off of the bed, her knuckles turning white from the grip in the sheets

Two of his fingers teased her entrance, making her whine as his tongue started flicking her clit, making her moan loud

He slowly started setting a pace with his fingers, curling them every now and then, hitting the spot inside her that made her body shake

“Lewis, please. Don’t stop- fuck, feels so good” Her words were slurred as she neared her orgasm, clenching rapidly around his fingers

“Fuck, Lew- ‘M gonna come, please” He sped up his fingers, curling them every time, sending her over the edge

She came with cry of his name, her whole body shaking, her chest rising and falling at a rapid speed

He kissed the insides of her thighs, soothing her out of her orgasm “Please, Lew… I need…” She still had trouble speaking from her orgasm

“I know. Don’t worry. I’m right here” He got off of the bed. He quickly removed his clothes and got back on the bed between her legs

She put her legs around his hips, pushing further against her as he started prepping small kisses to her neck and throat

He slowly entered her, drawing out moans from both of them. He stilled his hips, letting her adjust to him before he started moving

“Move, please” Her hands were all over the skin she could reach before settling at his back as he started moving

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby” He whimpered as her nails dug into his back, scraping along his skin

He angled her hips in a way that made him it hit that perfect spot inside her that made her moan loud

“Fuck, right there, Lew- fuck” He sped up, making sure to hit the same spot over and over again

“‘M so close- fuck, baby” The way she was rapidly clenching around him drew him closer to the edge

The next room over could probably hear their skin against skin sounds as well as their mixed moans

“Fuck, you clench so good ‘round me, love” He leaned down and prepped kisses above her breast

“Baby, please-“ She didn’t even know what she was pleading for, but she knew she could feel him getting close as well as he was twitching inside her

“Mhm, right behind you, baby” She took the cue and within a couple of thrusts, her body shook yet again with his name rolling off her tongue

And as promised, he was right behind her, stilling his hips as he came inside her with a moan

He slowed down his hips, circling her hipbone with his thumbs as she came down from her high

He pulled out of her, drawing a whine from both of them at the loss of contact between the two of them

They both sat in the bathtub, her back against his chest, his hands rubbing her thighs as she was slowly drifting away into a sleep

“Will you be my girlfriend?” They way his lips felt against her cheekbone woke her up

She turned her head to face him “Yes. Yes, I will” She smiled, pulling his face into a soft kiss

[sunrizef1]

What happens in Vegas pt 1.5

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Authors Note: had to write this twice because tumblr deleted it lol. Not sure how to tag this so I’m just tagging my general tags. Proofread but not well.

Warnings: Blood, cursing

Summary: When the drivers found Max cheating

Masterlist

—————————————————

“Dannyyyyyy” your voice rings out through the noise of the crowded club, your words catching the attention of the Australian in question.

The Aussie turns his head, a grin on his face as he holds up a bottle of champagne he seemed to have convinced the bartender to hand over. You laugh at his state, drunkenness clear in the way he sways as he staggers over to you. You wrap an arm around his tall shoulder, leaning on him in order to sort out your own less-than-sober state.

Lights flash brightly around the two of you, fellow drivers and F1 employees spread throughout the club, not including anyone from Red Bull for some reason.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, vodka practically running through your veins as you celebrated your win. You had won your home race and you were surrounded by your friends. The absence of some people you didn’t really like didn’t bother you all too much.

“Have you seen Logan?” You look up toward the Aussie again, eyes darting quickly around the club for your friend. You had been with the blond practically the whole night but as soon as you had gone looking for Danny, he had disappeared from your side.

Luckily, you didn’t have to search for long as another arm comes and wraps around your shoulder suddenly. You turn your head to find Logan, a dopey smile on his face and, weirdly, sunglasses.

He had been drinking just as much as the rest of you had, even downing about half a bottle of vodka in under twenty minutes. Better than you would’ve done considering you thought vodka tasted like shit. Good for shots though.

You reach up and fix the glasses that had gone sideways on his face. His hand follows yours, still clutching a drink as he follows your lead in fixing the random glasses.

“Why’d you have glasses on?” You have to yell slightly as you say it, prompting Danny to glance over from where he’d been watching Lando convince the current DJ to let him have a go. You’d have to give it to him, the man’s pretty convincing when he’s drunk.

“Someone gave them to me, not sure when, don’t really care. They’re sick though, right?” Logan leans back slightly to give you both a full look at him and you laugh as he sways a bit. His blond hair is ruffled and he’s acquired someone’s paddock pass throughout the night, along with the glasses and he’s looking like he came straight from the race itself.

“Yeah! You look great, mate!” Danny’s laughing behind you and Logan grins while he leans back into the little huddle you’ve created, patting Danny on the back as he does.

“Where are we heading then, gang?” Logan slurs, downing the rest of his drink and slamming it down on a nearby table and then turning his entire form toward the two of you.

You walk forward a bit, dragging the two drivers with you, both of their arms falling off your shoulders, “I was gonna go back to my room but I can't find max.”

You had already been dealing with Max’s absence since, well, yesterday at that point and it definitely contributed to about 5 of the shots you had taken. By now it was about 1 am, you had been in the club for hours, you were hungry and drunk and just really wanted to go to bed. But you couldn't do that because you couldn't find max and something in your drunken mind said you had to find him before you could go to bed. Something about not going to bed angry after a fight.

A fight that, truly, you didn't really have a part in. It wasn't your fault that Max had lost. I mean, it technically was but you shouldn't have been expected to let him win. Red Bull had practically been asking you to lose to him all season and you win once and suddenly Max is yelling about how inconsiderate you are.

“Come on,” Danny starts to walk toward the exit, leading you and Logan behind him as he does. The three of you stagger through the crowd, many people stopping you go congratulate you and chat as you do. By the time you've reached the strip, you've completely forgotten about Max and instead, you're only thinking about the hunger in your stomach.

“Im starving,” you mumble as you lay your head on Logan who smiles down at you, once again wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You pay no mind to the cameras flashing as the three of you walk out or the stares that come your way. You’re more concerned about where the nearest restaurant is.

Logan moves away from you to dig through his pocket and you take the opportunity to adjust your dress, the fabric suddenly too tight on your heated body. You also wish you could take off the shoes that were causing your feet to ache. Danny takes a swig from the bottle that he, surprisingly, had been allowed to take from the club. Hair sticks to your foreheads and clothes sit rumbled and wrong. The spitting image of three elite athletes.

Logan moves back toward you to hand you the phone he had just pulled from his pocket. You had honestly forgotten you had given it to him to hold considering your dress didn’t have pockets.

“Thank you,” you nod gratefully, unlocking it to an influx of messages from friends and family congratulating you on your win or sending pictures from the club.

You clutch the device tightly as you cross your arms in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold Vegas air.

When a particularly cold chill runs through your body, you’re suddenly moving down the sidewalk, heels clicking as you try not to sway. The boys behind you follow in suit, seemingly trusting the, for the purposes of this race, Vegas native.

“Where we going, then?” Logan asks, a yawn escaping him as he readjusts the sunglasses perched on his nose.

“There’s a shake shack at New York New York,” you follow suit in yawning, pointing slightly ahead at the Empire State shaped hotel in front of you.

Daniel hums, “I want a burger.”

You laugh slightly, leading both of them toward the restaurant.

You three get there pretty quickly, ordering random greasy food that your trainers would probably disapprove of. When you sit down, you pull out your phone and send a quick series of text to Max to ask where he was. He hadn’t been there the whole night and you had finally started to miss him. He reads the messages but doesn’t reply, leaving you with a sick feeling in your stomach.

You bite into a fry to try and cover the nausea, opening your text chain with Charles and texting him instead. He actually replies this time and soon enough, Charles is on his way to you three from wherever he had gone to sober up earlier in the night.

“Charles is on his way,” you say through another yawn, eating a fry.

Daniel scarfs down a few bites of his burger, swallowing a full gulps of his drink right after, “For what?”

“Gonna help me find Max probably. We’re all too drunk to do anything by ourselves anyway.”

“Not too drunk to order food by ourselves,” Logan says, probably louder than he needs to, leaning back in his chair, glasses still on and a drink in his mouth, “Let’s fucking goooooooo.”

He follows Daniel’s lead and starts to munch on his food quickly, food you’d paid for by the way, when you turned out to be the only one who could get their Apple Pay to work.

You take a couple more bites of your food while the boys scavenge their food as if they hadn’t eaten in years.

“Hey guys!” You look up to see a particularly sober Charles Leclerc strolling through the shake shack door. You perk up when you see him, a small smiling making it through the exhaustion you were feeling.

“Hey Cha,” you say, standing up to give him a small hug, staggering a bit on your heels as you do. He leans back as you release him and steadies you, holding something up to you as he does.

Your eyes widen as he holds up a pair of converse in your eyesight and you gasp happily, quickly sitting back down in your chair and starting to fumble with the clasps on your heels.

Your fingers shake with exhaustion and alcohol and the clasp escapes your hands more than a couple times.

“Here, let me do it,” Charles offers as he sets the shoes down on the ground next to you before kneeling in front of your chair and grasping your ankle lightly.

You don’t look across the table to see Daniel and Logan making kissy faces at each other as they both stuff their faces with greasy food and soda. But you can hear their mocking kiss noises and you roll your eyes as you finally look their way, glaring as you do. They both shut up and go back to the phones in their hands.

Charles makes quick work of the clasps on both shoes, sliding the heels off your feet and untying the converse before handing them to you. You slide the shoes on and stand up, wrapping up your excess shake shack as you do.

Logan makes a noise of protest as you move to throw the food away and you sigh before sliding it across the table back to him. He makes quick work of the food, with help from Daniel reaching over his shoulder to grab food in between Logan’s bites.

You and Charles wait quietly for the two of them to finish. You eventually open your mouth to ask him a question but he seems to beat you there.

“Do you know where Max is?” He says quietly, eyes staring kindly at your tired state.

“No, he hasn’t answered my texts,” you mumble sadly, head falling to rest against your hand on the table. Charles moves slightly closer to let you rest your head on his shoulder and your eyes start to flutter closed. You were just nodding off when a loud band comes from across you and your eyes open to see Logan slamming his empty drink on the table just before Daniel does as well.

They both move from the table quickly and you and Charles rush to follow them as they bound out of the restaurant in their drunken stupor.

“Let’s go find max!” Daniel yells out swinging an arm around the blond man’s shoulders.

“To finding max!” Logan responds swinging his own arm around Daniel.

You and Charles share a look at the two of them. You had been just as drunk as them but you seemed to be sobering up quicker than both of them.

You glance down to see your heels clutched in Charles hand and pull out your phone to take a picture while he’s busy looking over your shoulder at the two drunk formula one driver some yards away.

“Come back here, losers!” Charles called out to the two of them and they both turn back to you and stumble over, seemingly dancing to music that wasn’t playing.

“We’re going to Omnia,” Charles says to the three of you and that’s all the boys need to turn around and wander toward a building they don’t know the location of.

You roll your eyes at them but follow quickly after, trying to make sure they don't wander too far away. Charles is quick to walk beside you.

The walk isn't too far, your drunkenness slowly decreasing throughout the stroll. Luckily for you and Charles, by the time you all get to the club, Daniel and Logan have sobered enough to at least walk in a straight line.

Omnia is nestled inside of Caesars Palace so it wasn't hard to find but Daniel and Logan do both try and walk past the hotel. You and Charles have to call them back and drag them into the lobby of the hotel.

The four of you wander over to the club, glancing around but when your efforts seem fruitless, you decide to wander around the area instead of just looking at the club.

The four of you wander around aimlessly, looking for any signs of your boyfriend. You glance up to see Charles with his eyes set forward, still clutching your heels in his hands. Logan and Danny fall in line next to the two of you, seemingly sobered enough to be helpful now.

Eventually you round a corner and come face to face with a surprisingly empty area, not a soul in sight. The silence almost echoes off the vaulted ceiling, making the sound of your four sets of shoes seem almost loud in comparison.

You don’t see anything in the room and go to turn around when Logan catches your elbow, “Is that him?”

You turn back around to follow Logan’s point, eyes locking on a brunette man. Of course, Logan has just been extremely inebriated so his judgement probably wasn’t the best but you decide to listen to him anyway.

You move to take a step toward the man when he stumbles backward, letting you see that it is, in fact, your boyfriend. But what causes your eyebrows to furrow is the familiar girl hanging off of him, lips practically attacking his own.

You can’t move. Your eyes are locked on the couple and your feet are solidly rooted to the marble floor. You think you might be crying, you wouldn’t be able to tell. The only thing that pulls you out of it is the feeling of a pair of heels being shoved into your arms. You glance up just in time to see Charles reeling his fist back.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget the sound of a nose breaking under a fist. Of course, it’s quiet so that probably helped a lot.

They’re screaming at each other and your brain, once again, tunes it out. You stare blankly ahead, trying to make sense of whatever the fuck you just saw. You’re pretty sure Charles’ girlfriend flees. Probably for the best. Logan swings a tanned hand in front of your eyes and suddenly the volume in the room is back once again, the screaming slowly filtering into your head.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Charles yells, blood dripping down his arm as he shoves Max in the middle of his chest.

“What’s my problem!? What’s your problem!? You’re already fucking my girlfriend, I was just evening the score,” Max spits, blood splattering against Charles’ white shirt as he shoves the man’s wrist away.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do shit, man!”

“You proved it by showing up with her,” Logan inches forward as Max’s eyes land on you for the first time that night, seemingly ready to defend your honor. Or whatever.

“Taking her to help her find her boyfriend who turned out to be cheating on her with my girlfriend. Yeah seems really romantic mate,” Charles rolls his eyes. You can tell from his stance he’s ready to throw another punch in a heartbeat.

“Fuck you, Charles.”

“Fuck you, Max.”

There it is, the second punch flies and the two start to brawl. Rich idiot brawling, of course, no real form or anything. You reckon Max could throw a pretty good punch if he was in a better state. In the moment you’re just glad he isn’t. For Charles’ sake.

You suddenly realize that the area might not have been as secluded as you had thought. When you glance up you’re met by the literal strip, bright lights streaming in from the outside. Even at the ripe hour of 3 am. People start to gather at the commotion. Usually you’d care a lot about this kind of stuff but your brain is unfortunately too preoccupied to care.

One of these people that takes it upon themselves to insert themselves in the fight is none other than Checo Perez. The man on the grid who you could stand the least. Or at least he used to have that title, that might belong to Max now.

Upon the sound of more yelling, you tune him out. Daniel’s the one who moves in his path, causing the man to turn the argument onto Daniel. 5 foot 10 Daniel who’s been itching to throw a punch since this fight started. Daniel who was, until quite recently, black out drunk. Daniel who you knew, deep down, didn’t want to punch Max so this was a perfect solution.

You don’t end up remembering how it happens, your brain fogged with alcohol and emotions but one second, Checo and Danny are arguing and the next second, Logan’s landed a punch.

Honestly, he has a killer right hook. Especially for a drunk man. This spurs another fight and you can’t do anything but stand still in the middle of it all, tear stains running down your cheeks and high-heels clutched tightly in your arms.

It feels like an eternity later, but what probably only 5 minutes, when a figure comes up behind you and wraps an arms around your shoulders. You glance up to see a wild Oscar, pulling you away from the scene. He drops your shoulder to move back and pull Logan out of the fight, now with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles. You’re not sure how much fighting he did and how much of it was just him hitting random surfaces. Again, drunk.

You turn toward Charles and see a now unoccupied Checo walking with an arm around Max’s shoulder and a now quite sober Lando pulling Charles the other way. Danny’s made his own way out of the area, quickly pulling you away with him. You don’t argue as he does, grateful for the escape. Sound comes back to you as you re-enter the casino floor, slot machines and black-jack spread out around you.

You realize how crazy you all probably look, all six of you covered in blood in some way. Whether it be your own or a friends. You all stagger out of the hotel quickly and at some point, you lose Charles and now it’s just you, Daniel and Logan, just like how you had started the night.

Once the air hits your face you realize the reality of everything that’s just happened. Your three year relationship was now over. Your teammate and boyfriend just cheated on you. This had to be some sort of HR violation.

For the first time since you entered the quiet area, you feel yourself cry. Tears run down your cheeks as sobs rack your body. Logan is quick to get you somewhere to sit down and he lays an arm around your shoulder comfortingly, not even thinking about the fact he’s now smearing even more blood on your clothes. You get distracted form your crying when you glance up and see the blood streaming from his nose. If you could help it, you’d get his name the farthest away from this. He didn’t need this right now.

For a moment you’re too worried about Logan’s future to cry but then you glance back down at the blood on your own hands and the waterworks start again. You, of course, hadn’t punched anyone but the blood was a reminder that somebody had because of you.

You eventually get the sobs to go away, standing up with a slight wobble, leaning on Daniel as he catches you.

You have no idea where the rest of your friend had gone or even where you were gonna sleep tonight. So you text the one person you had complete faith in during this situation.

“Can I stay with you?”

————————————————

[crabussy]

hi gang. updated my blog title because I keep getting mistaken for australian or british over and over and over again and this cannot continue. save me

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

TURN OUT FINE PART 1

logan sargeant x australian!male!driver!reader

PART ONE / PART TWO

summary: being an f1 driver was enough for most people—including your boyfriend—but after he gets dropped mid-season, you decide it's time for something more.

warnings: mild angst, reader isn't particularly interactive, not a lot of writing, mostly told through instagram posts, based on the song turn out fine by henrik

youruser

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 892200 others

youruser i was overthinking

                comments

user1 i love how even when he's struggling he's like priority #1 is humiliate the grid liked by youruser, alex_albon, and others

user2 no don't overthink you're so sexy aha

user3 IS THAT A SOFT LAUNCH???

user4 FR WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABT THIS???

user5 call me crazy but that is a man as well liked by pierregasly, zhouguanyu24, and others

user6 user5 nurse she's out again

user5 YOU'LL SEE

user7 how is his feed still aesthetic when he's depressed AND making fun of people

youruser

liked by jackdoohan, olliebearman, and 929106 others

youruser my mama was right

                comments

user8 where did you get that shirt i need it

youruser sorry love, went op shopping and it doesn't have a tag :(

user8 adhggffieyhsldk

user9 i think she's broken

user10 man i would be too if THEEE y/n l/n called me love

user11 user10 🤨

user10 user 11 no babe look away this doesn't concern you

user12 is nobody gonna ask what op shopping is? liked by charles_leclerc, nicorosberg, and others

user13 LMAO NOT THE DRIVERS LIKING THIS AS IF THEY COULDN'T JUST ASK HIM liked by youruser

user14 op shopping is what aussies call thrift shopping!

fernandoalo_oficial am i what the kids call a meme

youruser yes 👍

user15 is that a man in the last slide?

user16 yes? it's y/n?

user15 no i mean with him

user17 i don't think so, i mean y/n doesn't exactly strike me as fruity

user18 user17 you're kidding right? that man could not be gayer if he TRIED

youruser

liked by paularon_, prema_team, and 782919 others

youruser chase what you believe in

                comments

user19 go dad!

kimimatiasraikkonen 😐

youruser 🧊🧍‍♂️!!!

kimimatiasraikkonen 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦🍝?

youruser 👍 liked by kimimatiasraikkonen

user20 did they really just make dinner plans in an instagram comments section?

user21 slides 3+4 making me want a y/n.jpg acc :(

user22 WHY IS HE STILL SOFT LAUNCHING

user23 don't be shy dad we'll be nice

user24 no we won't

user25 no we won't

youruser no you won't

yukitsunoda0511 why did you use that photo ?

youruser sorry its my brand to make fun of people

yukitsunoda0511 i made you sushi ???

youruser and i'm very grateful! 🙃

user26 oh he really does not gaf 😭

yukitsunoda0511 user26 🥲

youruser

liked by f1, scuderiaferrari, and 2345890 others

youruser it won't happen overnight 🫶

                comments

user27 aww who's the kitty?

youruser smoky!

user28 forget the kitty who are you KISSING? liked by jensonbutton, lewishamilton, and others

user29 user28 lol even the grid dads wanna know

mickschumacher 🫶?

youruser 🫶

mickschumacher 🫶!

user30 what if it's mick??

user31 okay grandma let's get you back to bed

user5 it's defo a driver but i'm thinking logan!

user6 please stop

user5 user6 you're no fun

georgerussell63 IT WAS AN EMOTIONAL MOMENT OKAY

youruser i think your face made that pretty clear but thanks 👍

georgerussell63 i regret agreeing to let you be designated driver

youruser tough luck, you're stuck with me

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: second ever smau, i was in a logan mood when i wrote this. part two coming soon!

comments + reblogs appreciated!

credits: pinterest for the photos!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @spoonfulofmilo

[formula-nyoom]

Hi! I’m currently recovering from a pretty bad hip injury and am doing physical therapy right now. PT’s been really hard and hurts my hip like hell, so I was wondering if you could maybe write about either a McLaren or Ferrari driver (your choice) who’s going through it after a hip injury and is just having a really tough time, but all of the drivers (especially Lando, Charles, Carlos, Oscar, and Daniel if that’s okay - I know it’s a lot hahaha) are there to reassure her and cheer her on.

If you don’t feel comfortable writing this, I totally understand! I hope you have a nice rest of your day/night! :)

A/N: Hope I did ok with this one. Midterms prevented me from working on this but I tried to finish this as soon as possible. Hope you enjoy it.

Realistically you should be grateful that you can still walk after the massive crash you went through in Jeddah. Well “walk” is a loose term. Having to go through physical therapy and making sure your hip heals properly, you’re not able to put any weight on your foot and have to use crutches to walk. The combination of that and the lingering pain has not made the recovery process easy. But thankfully, you were only the reserve driver for Ferrari, which means you didn’t have to rush your recovery.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asked as he packed your bag for the day while you laid on the bed in your hotel room. Him and Carlos had been helping you throughout the week with getting around the Australian circuit and you were very grateful for your fellow teammates' willingness to help.

“I don’t want to walk or move. I don’t want to go anywhere.” You said.

 “I could carry you if you’d like.” Carlos said. You shook your head.

“And risk you pulling your stitches? You just got cleared to get back in the car and we both know Ferrari can’t afford to have Bearman drive right now.” You told him. 

“Please at least let me carry your stuff or drive you to the track. I'm the whole reason you got hurt.” Carlos said. 

 “No you're not Carlos. It's my own fault I crashed.” You said. You could tell that Carlos felt guilty about you having to fill in for him and then crashing during the race, but you kept trying to reassure him that injuries like yours came with the job of being a race car driver. The only person to blame for your injury is yourself, not the teammate you were filling in for.

 “But if my appendix didn't burst, you wouldn’t have been in the car.” Carlos said. Charles rolled his eyes.

 “Ok, the two of you can assign blame all you want for the rest of the day, but right now, we have to get to the paddock.” Charles said. “(Y/N), I will help you get down to the car. Carlos, you can carry her stuff.”

Charles helped you get out of bed and get situated with your crutches while Carlos grabbed your bag and the two helped you get down to the hotel lobby. 

~~~

You had barely made it past the paddock entrance and the fan barricades before everything started to hurt. You knew that navigating the paddock was going to be difficult but you didn’t expect to have to stop and rest everytime your hip decided to flare up with pain. You had already told Carlos and Charles to go ahead of you, not wanting to slow them down. They were hesitant to leave you behind, but you assured them that it’s better they make it to the team meeting on time than have them constantly wait for you. 

 “Hey (Y/N)! How are you doing?” You looked up from leaning on your crutches to see Daniel and Oscar approaching you. They seemed to be in high spirits with it being their home race. 

“I’m doing ok. I’m trying to get to the Ferrari garage but I’m having some difficulty.” You said, motioning to your hip.

 “Let me help you then. I’ll give you a piggyback and get you there in no time.” Daniel said.

 “Are you sure? I don’t want you to risk anything before your home race.”

 “Nonsense. Plus it’s better than you having to walk all the way on crutches.” Daniel said with a smile that was hard to say no to you. You reluctantly agreed and handed your crutches to Oscar before climbing on Daniel’s back. 

“C’mon, I’ll get you to the Ferrari garage.” Daniel said. Oscar followed you two and the three of you started conversing on your expectations for the upcoming race. You did admit to Daniel that the piggyback was much better than walking. Without the crutches, your hands were free to wave to fans as you passed and that helped improve your mood. 

“Oh, (Y/N). My gran made these for the McLaren team and I grabbed you one as a get well soon gift.” Oscar said, handing you a nicely wrapped pastry. 

 “Aww, thanks Osc.” You said. You unwrapped the pastry and took a bite. It was delicious and you smiled. 

 “Oh my god. Oscar, can your gran send these to me every time I get injured? I can already feel my hip healing.” You said. Oscar chuckled.

“I’ll let her know you liked them. But promise me you won’t get injured just for the sake of my gran’s baking.” Oscar said.

 “I promise.” You told him. 

~~~

“What if I don't recover from this?” 

It was late at night. You and other drivers were at a club celebrating Carlos’s win, but you had to step out to get some air.

 “You will. And after you've recovered, you'll win the next race you're in. It's a basic guarantee now with Carlos’s win.” Lando said, who had decided to join you outside to make sure you were ok. 

“I won’t be in another race for a long while. Either Charle’s appendix needs to burst or Kevin needs to get more penalty points for me to be in another race this season.” You said. 

 “Well with the way Magnussen drives, I think you’ll actually have a shot again this season.” Lando said. The two of you let out small laughs, knowing that statement was sort of true.

 “I have to be fully healed before they let me get back into the car.” You said, your smile slowly dropping. “With how everything keeps hurting, especially after physical therapy, I can’t help but feel like that’s not a possibility.” 

“Hey, look at me.” Lando moved your head so you could look him in the eyes. 

 “I know my words can’t automatically heal you, but I need you to know that this pain will eventually pass. You’ll heal, and you’ll get back in that car.” He said. He placed his arm around you and pulled you close to his side without trying to aggravate your injury.

 “And when you do get back in that car, you’ll win that race. Proving that nothing can stop you.”

The smile returned to your face and you pulled Lando in for a hug.

 “I can feel myself getting better already.”