#but we came *so* close to qualifying on that second run

[seagulley]

Our rally trial today was interesting. We didn't qualify on either run but still managed to place 1st out of 4 pairs. I felt the courses were really complicated, and guess I was right, considering there wasn't a single qualifying run in our class. Very unintuitive course layout and not a lot of space (despite the trial being held in a large open field, so I have no idea why the organisers chose to set it up like that). The footing wasn't entirely even either, and at one point we had to do a moving down while running downslope. Kaija did it but... honestly, why set the course up like that?

Something I should keep in mind next time - I was worried about the moving down, so I practiced it multiple times before going into the ring. And on the first sign (halt-stand-walk around) Kaija went into a down instead of a sit. Good lesson for me! While it makes sense to practice the signs I expect to give us the most trouble before starting our run, I need to be more mindful to avoid creating confusion for Kaija.

We only had three weeks to work on our right-side heeling & all the new RO-3 signs, and our lack of prep definitely showed at times. But despite that, I cannot tell you how happy I am with Kaija. She not only learned all these new skills in a very a short amount of time but was then able to perform them at a trial, with no (immediate) reward and the added pressure of a trial environment. In the end, we were only two points short of a qualifying score on our second run and even received compliments from the judge. Gonna keep working on it and get ready for our next trial at the end of the month!

[pastryfication]

hi!!! can we get an ollie x reader, frustrated after he misses out on q3 in baku, and fully melts into his gfs arms when he’s out of the car. until someone from the team has to steer him away to the media pen

i guess that's the best i can do

pairing: ollie bearman x reader

note: i absolutely adore writing hurt/comfort so thank u for this request <33 i know it’s been over a month since u requested, and i’m so sorry for that, but i hope u still like it

the streets of baku were unforgiving that day, the tight corners and narrow straights biting harder than ollie had expected as he got into the car. he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but missing out on q3—by just a fraction—hurt more than he wanted to admit.

he climbs out of the car quickly, his helmet still on, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. the moment he’s out of the cockpit, the frustration floods him. all those laps, the careful management, and it still wasn’t enough. he slams the steering wheel back in place a little harder than necessary, trying to keep the emotions from boiling over in front of the cameras. the pit crew is busy around him, preparing for the post-qualifying debrief, but all he can think about is how close he came.

he catches sight of you standing just outside of the garage, your face soft with understanding. it’s as if you know exactly how he’s feeling before he even reaches you. you offer a small smile, but ollie’s expression doesn’t budge. he pulls off his helmet and then his baclava, running a hand through his sweaty hair, before walking over to you, his shoulders heavy with disappointment.

as soon as he’s close enough, he drops his helmet onto the ground beside you and crashes into your arms without a word. his hands grip tightly onto your waist, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, as if all the tension and frustration can somehow seep out through the contact. for a long moment, he just stands there, holding on, and you can feel the shuddering breath he lets out.

you wrap your arms around him, holding him close, your hand gently stroking the back of his neck, offering silent comfort. his body, taut with frustration and anger just moments ago, begins to sag against yours, melting into your embrace. he’s letting it all go, just for a moment, here with you, where it’s safe to be vulnerable—where he can show his true emotions.

“you were absolutely brilliant out there,” you whisper softly into his ear, trying to sooth the storm brewing inside him. “so close, ollie. you fought so hard.”

he doesn’t say anything at first, his face still buried in the crook of your neck, his arms clinging to you as if he's afraid you'll disappear. you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, deep breaths as he tries to calm down, to find the words he wants to say. his grip on you tightens even further for a second, as if he needs to hold on to something stable, something real, before he can speak.

“i should’ve made it,” he mumbles, his voice thick with frustration. “i had the pace. i know i did.”

you keep stroking his hair, your other hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. “you’ll get them next time. this isn’t the end.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy with emotion. “i just—” his voice cracks, and he shakes his head, trying to get the words out. “i wanted it so bad. i was right there.”

“i know,” you say softly, cupping his face in your hands. “i know, love. but this doesn’t change how incredible you are.”

for a moment, he just looks at you, the frustration still simmering beneath the surface but dulled by the warmth of your presence. you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he sighs again, his shoulders finally slumping in defeat—though not the kind of defeat that lingers, but the kind that comes with acceptance, with knowing he did all he could.

but before he can fully disappear into the comfort of your embrace, someone from the team approaches, clearing their throat. you both turn to see one of the pr managers, looking slightly awkward but aware of the time crunch. “ollie,” they say softly, not wanting to intrude too much. “we’ve got to get you to the media pen. they’re waiting.”

ollie groans quietly against your shoulder, his grip on you loosening as reality pulls him back. “right,” he mutters, clearly not thrilled about it.

he pulls back reluctantly, his hands still lingering on your waist for a second longer before he lets go completely. “i’ll be back soon,” he says, the words more for himself than for you, like a promise he’s making to get through this next part.

you offer him an encouraging smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “you’ve got this.”

he nods, though you can see he’s still carrying some of that disappointment with him. just before he walks away, he pauses, turning back to you. “thank you,” he whispers, his voice quiet but sincere. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“you don’t have to,” you reply, smiling softly as you reach up to caress his cheek adoringly. “i’ll always be here.”

with that, he smiles softly and leans down to give you a hurried kiss before finally allowing the team to steer him away, glancing back at you one last time before disappearing into the paddock. you watch him go, knowing that once he’s done with the media, you’ll be there waiting, ready to pull him back into your arms when he needs it most.

[eveninggstar]

victory lap ⊹ ࣪ ˖

lando norris x rival!Mercedes!reader

26.08.24

୨ৎLando proposes a bet that if he gets pole and wins from pole in Zandvoort then he gets to not use a condom next time you and him have sex.

୨ৎ back one page ୨ৎ back two pages

smut

unprotected p in v sex, kinda bratty reader, lando smacks readers ass twice, sex on the floor, lando is controlling but in a good way, probs more

ngl this is prob the best smut ive ever written so far lol kinda like this one bc i love lando two wins!!! Also this is pretty long i dont know how many words

The tension between you and Lando had been building up for years. The two of you were rivals on the track, always pushing each other to the limit, but beneath that fierce competition lay something neither of you could ignore—an undeniable sexual tension that everyone seemed to notice. The paddock was rife with rumours, and even your respective teams had exchanged knowing glances whenever the two of you were around each other.

It all came to a head one balmy summer evening at Zandvoort. The Dutch Grand Prix was notorious for its challenging circuit and passionate fans, and both of you were ready to put on a show.

You were lounging in your driver room, going over your strategy for the weekend when Lando sauntered in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his McLaren race suit unzipped just enough to give a glimpse of his undershirt. He was clearly up to something.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature mix of charm and mischief. “How confident are you feeling about this weekend?”

You looked up from your notes, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Confident enough to wipe that smug look off your face, Norris. Why do you ask?”

Lando chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “Well, I was thinking... How about we make things a little more interesting this weekend?”

Your curiosity was piqued. “Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?”

He leaned in close, his arms draped around your shoulder and his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Let’s make a bet. If I get pole position and win from pole, then the next time we have sex i don't wear a condom." He stayed silent for a few seconds, then leaning his face closer to your ear so his nose flattened, "Let me finish inside of you, baby."

A shiver ran down your spine at his bold proposition. You knew Lando liked to push boundaries, but this was a whole new level. Still, you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not from him.

“And what do I get if you don’t?” you asked, your voice steady despite the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

“If I don’t win from pole, you get to call the shots next time,” Lando replied, his eyes darkening with the unspoken promises laced in his words.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider it, even though you already knew your answer. “Alright, Norris. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Saturday came around, and the atmosphere at Zandvoort was electric. The roar of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the thrill of competition all combined to create an intoxicating environment. Qualifying was intense, with both you and Lando pushing your cars to the absolute limit.

“Lando Norris takes pole position!” the announcer’s voice boomed across the circuit.

You clenched your fists, a mix of frustration and anticipation bubbling within you. Lando had done it—step one of the bet was complete. But there was still the race to come, and you were determined to give him a run for his money.

Race day dawned bright and clear, the sun shining down on the packed grandstands. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you strapped into your Mercedes, your focus narrowing down to the task at hand. The lights went out, and the race began with a flurry of motion.

Lando held his position at the front, but you were right on his tail, refusing to give him an inch. Lap after lap, you pressed him, looking for any opportunity to overtake, but he defended fiercely, his car perfectly placed at every turn. The tension between you both was palpable, each of you pushing the other to the brink.

As the race neared its conclusion, you realized that Lando was going to pull it off. He had driven impeccably, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find a way past him. At this point you were nowhere near him. He had a 20 second lead and had lapped over half the grid.

Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Lando had won the bet. As you pulled into the pit lane, you saw him celebrating with his team, his face lit up with triumph. But when he caught your eye, his smile turned into something more—something darker, filled with desire.

Later that evening, after all the interviews and celebrations, you found yourself in Lando’s motorhome. The air between you crackled with anticipation as he closed the door behind him, shutting out the world.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed winning a race this much.”

You swallowed hard, your body already responding to the heat in his gaze. “You got lucky, Norris.”

He smirked, stepping closer until you were backed up against the wall. “I think we both know it wasn’t just luck, Y/N. Now, are you ready to pay up?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, his hands sliding up your sides. You could feel his heart pounding in time with your own, the intensity between you both reaching a fever pitch.

“You won fair and square,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Lando’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It was fierce, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been simmering between you for so long. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Lando didn't waste anytime before he urged you backwards towards the sofa. Your mouths slotted together and his hands groped and explored your body, going from your chest to your thighs. His hands manoeuvred the remains of your race suit to the floor, only leaving you in your fireproofs. With the reduced barrier, he could easily press against you causing you to let out many gasps and a few tugs to his hair.

Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Lan, hurry up.”

He paused, eyes scattering over your features. His face was no longer the happy winner everyone outside saw. He was now drunk with a lust filled haze. He lifted himself up off of you slightly, bringing a hand to your face and caressing it with the utmost care. His breath felt warm against your face, causing your eyes to flutter shut. The calmness you were experiencing was cut short by the strong grip Lando had on your face, squeezing your cheeks and puckering your lips.

"You're the one needing to be faster." He practically growled, looking deep into your eyes. "Remind me who came first." He paused, awaiting your answer. "Who won the bet?" His voice sent shivers down your spine.

"You," you mumbled, then began to smile as his hand drifted to your neck. He returned the smile and slowly moved his face to the underside on your jaw. He kissed it sweetly, then tightened his grip.

"Louder, baby." He commanded, his words dark but mixed with the feather light kisses sent your head into another dimension.

"You!" You spoke up, earning a nip to your neck. He then came back to your face to then deepen the kiss you had earlier.

He moved your lower body so he could fit more comfortably between your legs. Your hands desperately gripped at his damp hair, needing to hold anything to ground yourself.

You felt the hand around your neck slowly trail down the length of your body before settling at your groin. Your legs attempted to close shut, although his waist was preventing you from doing that. He began to work at your clothed clit, his thumb easily circling over the smooth fabric.

"Uh-" your voice cut off as he pressed on the dampening fabric harder.

"There you go, you're speeding up. Getting wet so quickly," He spoke condescendingly as he nuzzled his nose in your cheek. "Why cant you be like this on track?" He began to mouth at your neck, causing you to let out a breathy moan. As much as you hated Lando's cockiness, god was it hot.

“Shush.” You moaned, an audible show of your composure.

You could barely speak, Lando's thumb never faltering on your soaking clit. His body was overwhelming you, and you started to squirm. However, that same thumb stopped giving pleasure. Before you could protest, he was hastily ripping your fireproofs off. This left you bare and flushed below him. Your chest heaving up and down as his eyes scanned over our body.

He leaned up to nip at your ear, surely leaving a mark this time, as you expelled a breath of pleasure as his fingers worked their way into your slit.

Your words were lost on you, wanting to ask when he was going to get to the real reason of your bet. But in all honestly, you didn't care if he would carry on pleasuring you. However, you did want his fingers to enter you, to leave you wanting more of a stretch for days after.

His fingers left your aching cunt, leaving it to pulsate rhythmically. You reached out to hold his hand, an iron bruising grip you're sure of it. His race suit clad crotch bumped against your bare one, giving a shock of unexpected pleasure.

"Lan!" you practically yelled, your squeal bouncing off of the surrounding walls.

He shushed you, then ordered you to not touch yourself. He slowly slinked up off of the sofa, eyes solely focused of your slightly twitching body. The rest of his race suit joined yours on the floor, in addition to his fireproofs.

His cock sprung free, the tip beat red and dripping at the sight of you. Lando stood proud for what felt like forever. His left thumb was stroking his lip as he shook his head in the opposite direction. That's when he uttered-

"Get on the floor."

You submissive sex haze briefly broke, thinking you heard him wrong.

"The floor?" You pushed your body up, looking at him like he just asked you to get on the floor like an animal. Oh wait-

"I won the bet, baby." He smirked, eyes still raking over your nude body. "Floor, there's not enough space on the sofa for us."

With a sigh and a reluctant nod, you melted your way off of the sofa. You knew the position he wanted you in, he rarely fucked you when not in it. You laid on the floor for a few seconds, collecting yourself. Lando saw you laying there, not having you be a pillow princess he ordered you to-

"Flip around, ass up. I know!" You rolled your eyes, then did it. What you didn't expect was a harsh smack to your ass. You let out a mixture of a moan and a sound on pain.

"Enough of the bratty attitude," He smacked your ass lighter this time then gripping the plump, reddening flesh.

Finally, you thought, the head of his cock began to notch at your entrance. His fingers had intertwined with the nodded strands of your hair and he pulled up as his dick pushed into your cunt in a swift motion.

You both let out a groan of pleasure. Lando held himself there, letting you and himself adjust to the jaw dropping pleasure. This was the first time the pair of you were having sex without a condom, and god did it already feel a million times better. The pair of you had to focus to not cum straight away.

No words were needed between the four walls of you sex filled haven, as Lando thrusted into you. His palms splayed on your hips controlled your movements as his relentlessly bullied his cock further and further into you. You hands struggled to hold onto something, eventually finding solace in Lando's fireproofs.

His name was chanted like a prayer from you, in return you got delicious sounding moans and groans from behind you. You were sure his face didn't look all that different to yours in the moment. Pleasure filled, and only focused on the other.

His repetitive ruts and the bruising grip on your hips rendered you speechless. You wanted to say keep going, feels so good. But that was the problem, since the pleasure was that unbelievable you couldn't say. The loud sounds of sex echoed as your skin slapped in a fast tempo, each smack more pleasureful than the last.

Lando leaned closer to you, chest flat of you back. At every thrust you could feel the tense of his abs and the perspiration drip onto your equally sweaty skin. He began to mouth at your neck, settling for small thrusts whilst he was buried at the hilt. One on his hands slithered away from your hips and found solace on your breast.

His hot breath spread across your neck and down your spine as you shivered. His moans had turned to grunts and pants.

"Like it when you can feel me this good?" He grinned into your hair, leaving small kisses in his wake. "Like it when your this full?"

You wanted to nod, only giving a weak, stuttered head movement. The remaining hand on your hip drifted to your swollen clit. He helped ease you to completion.

"Aren't you glad I got pole." He teased you. "That I won. You wouldn't feel this good if I didn't."

You whimpered at his words, too turned on to be annoyed that he won and you didn't. But yeah, you were happy he won. He doesn't have to know that though.

You wanted to tease him, give him payback to what you were feeling, what you always felt with him, however none of that would be happening. He knew you like he knew the tracks the pair of you frequented, and knew that you were actual putty in his hands this very moment.

He picked up his pace, resulting you to let out loud moans and sexual noises of the like. The speed of his thrusts felt as if his dick was going to come out, luckily it didn't and you got the full pleasure.

His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.

"Come on, you can cum for me. I know you can-"

His hand came up as fast as his reflexes allowed, as you came. He slowly reduced the pleasure he was giving to your clit and eventually reached his own high. Your neck vibrated at the animalistic groan he let out into it.

Needless to say, the pair of you would be having more bets like this.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[rueclfer]

casual // touya todoroki

when the boy you're in love with wants to keep it casual.

a/n: give me a gun. pt 2? or should we leave it here hehe

part 2

"You sure you're qualified to do this?" Touya eyed your concentrated expression through the mirror to your right. His head rested in your lap as you mark his ear, making sure it was as lined up and even as it could be next to his existing piercing.

"Of course I am." You say in a hushed tone, wiping off the needle with a cotton pad soaked with the rubbing alcohol you found under the sink. "You know, I pierced Toga's ears?"

"What? When was this?" He jokingly pouts. "So I'm not the only one you're putting needles through?"

You smiled at this hint of jealousy. You two had been close friends for a while- more so in the realm of friends with benefits, but of course you wanted more of him than he was willing to give you.

"Unfortunately not, pretty boy." You chuckle.

It was a late and quiet night, but of course you two couldn't sleep. Last week it was you padding away to his front door, which was left cracked open for you. This time, it was him that came knocking on your window.

"Why did I agree to this again?" He mutters in annoyance.

"You're the one who came down my fire escape remember?" You cock an eyebrow.

"Yeah, and last time you came to mine, I got an undercut. So shouldn't it be me terrorizing your appearance instead?"

"You're acting like the undercut was the only thing you received." You meet his glance in the mirror, which he returned with a knowing wink. A faint blush brushed over your cheeks, causing you to avert your gaze.

"Besides, it looks hot, and you'll be okay." You lean in to whisper in his ear, planting a soft kiss on his sideburn. "It'll only hurt for a second."

"You are dangerous. Absolutely no good for me." He sighs in defeat. "No countdown, okay?"

"Say less." You instantly pierce through the soft flesh, watching his face scrunch in discomfort. "Needle is in." You say with content.

"Let me see." He sits up, and scoots forwards towards the mirror, looking at the needle sticking through his lobe. "God that looks freaky."

"C'mere and let me put the jewelry in."

"First, One more kiss, for being so brave."

Your cheeks flush as you lean in, letting him close the space between you two. His hand finds his way to the nape of your neck, letting himself lean in deeper.

"Wicked, dangerous, captivating, beautiful thing." He mutters against your lips. "The things I let you do to me."

"Be careful or else I'll start thinking you like me." You put your hand on his chest to lightly push him back.

"You know I do, silly girl." He quickly presses another kiss to your nose.

"Shut up." You smile and reach up to grab his chin, angling his ear towards you. With the clean earring, you swiftly replace the needle with the stud.

"And done. Not so bad, huh?" You looked at your work in pride.

You stand up to throw out the bloody q-tips and safety pin. After tossing the biohazards, you turn around to see him throwing on his coat and take one last look at his fresh piercing in the mirror.

"Are you leaving already?" A twang of disappointment twists in your stomach. "No sleepover?"

"Nah, gotta sleep in my own bed at least once this week." He huffs out a chuckle, running his hand through his messy hair. "Gotta make rent worth it, you know?"

Oh.

"So true." a deflated chuckle exhales from you. "See you around then, Touya." You follow him to the window. The cold breeze rushed through, sweeping your hair out of your face.

"I'm having our people over tomorrow night for a little kickback. Of course you're invited. See you there?"

You force a light smile on your lips. "Yeah, maybe."

"Sweet. Goodnight, Y/N." He begins climbing up the fire escape and leaves you with a pinch on the cheeks and a bitter taste in your mouth.

[sebscore]

Hi!

I wanted to request for fem!driver. Like I can’t stop thinking about two situations.

One being if she started dating a guy or a girl. Not a driver or anything like that. I would feel like everybody would either be protective or make fun of her. I can also see them stalking her date.

The other one being what if she got into a crash. How would she react? Or how would everyone else react?

(I just wanted to say that I love this series you have going on with fem!driver. It’s so fun and cute!)

LET IT SPIRAL

pairings: sebastian vettel x driver!reader / george russell x driver!reader / carlos sainz x lando norris / (indirect) lewis hamilton x driver!reader

warnings: car crashing. swearing. medics. mentions of the hospital. reader passes out for a moment.

author's note: thank you so much for the request, I had fun writing this one and I hope you enjoy reading it! 🙂 I’ll get to the reader having a significant other another time! ��️

• • • • • • •

''Y/N? Are you okay?'' Her engineer sounded over the radio, surprised by the sudden turn of events.

Up until moments before, the qualifying had been going fine. Yes, there was a lot of rain and there wasn't much grip, but there hadn't been an incident yet and it was still manageable. She had made it into Q2 and she seemed to be on her way to make it into the next sector.

She knew she was taking a risk by going into the corner that fast, but those kinds of risks had paid off in the past, so she didn't think twice about it. Only this time her car started spinning and she crashed into the barrier at quite a high speed.

The lack of response made her team worried, her usual snarky comment not coming through the radio.

''Hello? Y/N? Can you confirm if you're okay?'' Her engineer tried again to get some sort of response out of her, not immediately wanting to think about the worst case scenario. However, nothing came through the radio again from the female driver.

Meanwhile, the two remaining cars behind her were informed to slow down and watch out for debris on the track. Sebastian and George right away reduced their speed, but reacted concerned as to why they needed to do that.

''Red flag, Sebastian. Y/L into the barriers. Lots of debris.''

Sebastian wasn't too pleased to hear about Y\N's crash as earlier he had complained to the directors that they shouldn't be allowed to drive in these rainy weather conditions. ''I told them to red flag the whole thing! There's too much fucking water! I fucking told them!''

As soon as the German saw her car, he pulled up next to her and put his car in neutral, ready to jump out if he needed to. Sebastian held his thumb up in the air, hoping she would see it and would hold hers up. His heart dropped to his stomach when she didn't do that.

He didn't waste one second and jumped out of his cockpit, running up to her and crouching down. ''Y/N! Can you hear me? Are you hurt?'' He pulled up the visors of her helmet and saw her eyes were closed. Upon seeing that, he grabbed her arm and felt her pulse, relief going through his body as her heart was still beating.

George reacted more reserved and calm than Sebastian, but still voiced his concerns for his friend. ''Is she okay? What happened?''

''She lost control of the rear, there hasn't been a response from her.''

He fell quiet when told that she wasn't responding to her engineers, it wasn't in her character to just go radio silent. ''That's not good.''

Turning into the corner, he saw Sebastian by Y/N's car and just like the older driver did earlier, he pulled up next to them and swiftly got out of his car, seeing if he could be of any help to them.

''Is she alright?'' George asked Sebastian, crouching down on the other side of her car. Sebastian shook his head. ''I think she passed out, we should get her helmet off that way she gets more air.'' He told the younger one.

They both stood up and carefully tried to move the helmet from her head, not wanting to hurt her. The two men successfully got the helmet off and Sebastian cupped her cheeks, lightly shaking her. ''Wake up, Y/N dear.''

Her eyes slowly opened, blinking due to the sudden light causing pain to her eyes. Y/N groaned, her muscles hurting immensely and also still not realizing what just happened.

''You okay, darling?''

George's question remained unanswered as the arriving marshals and medics pushed them out of the way, getting the driver out of her car and quickly getting her into the vehicle that would bring her to the hospital for a check-up.

They watched as the car drove away with their colleague in it, Sebastian holding onto her helmet. George patted his fellow driver's shoulder.

''Come on, let's go, Seb.''

In the Mercedes garage, Lewis had already made his way out of the car and was discussing with Bono when he saw the spinning car crashing into the barriers on the small monitoring screen.

''Oh, that doesn't look too good.'' He noted, his face in a frown as the red flag was called out. ''Wait, is that Y/N?'' The Brit took a closer look at the car and realized it was Y/N who had fallen victim to the rain.

Angela joined him, growing concerned for the younger woman she had grown very fond of in the last years. ''Why isn't she getting out?'' She mumbled to herself, confused as to why there was no movement coming from the car.

''Oh, Seb's getting out of the car.'' Lewis' focus was solely on the scene in front of him, his heart rate raising as now both Sebastian and George were by her car, yet there was no movement coming from Y/N's side.

''Why aren't there any fucking medics helping her?'' Lewis cursed to no one in particular, frustrated that the two drivers had to help the woman on their own.

Bono calmed him down. ''Look, they've arrived, Lewis.''

''I hope she's okay.''

On the paddock, several drivers who were giving post-qualification interviews watched with worry as the crash replayed over and over again on the big screen.

Carlos stopped talking in the middle of giving the reporter an answer, more concerned with seeing for himself if Y/N was okay or not. Lando appeared next to him, his eyes wide and attentively looking at the screen. ''That's Y/N, right?''

The older one nodded. ''Yes, that's gonna leave some bruises later.''

''I hope her nails are fine, remember the last time when Daniel crashed into her? For weeks she would walk up to him and shove her newly done nails into his face.'' Lando recalled, trying to lighten up the tension.

Carlos chuckled, remembering all the times Y/N would proudly show off her nails to Daniel and the rest of the drivers. ''Yeah, I think Daniel will think twice before taking her out on track again.''

''Look, George and Seb are with her.'' The McLaren driver pointed out, grabbing Carlos' attention. ''What are they doing?''

''I think they're trying to take her helmet off.'' Lando answered, narrowing his eyes as he tried to get a better look at what was happening.

Sighs of relief came from them as the marshals and medics helped Y/N out of her car, and they could see she was conscious and didn't have any significant injuries. They resumed their interviews and made their way back to their own respective hospitalities.

As soon as Sebastian was informed that Y/N was back from her check-up at the hospital, he made his way to her garage, knowing the young lady well enough that she would want to check out the damages that had been done to her car.

''Hi, little one.''

Sebastian's voice made her turn her head in his direction, greeting him with a soft smile. ''Hey, Seb.''

He walked towards her and pulled her helmet from behind him, handing it over to her. ''I thought you might want this back.'' She laughed as he gave her the helmet, only now realizing she had been missing it. ''Thank you, I appreciate it.''

''How are you?''

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''My wrist hurts a bit, but it's just bruising. Besides that, I'm fine.'' She showed off the supporting tape the doctors had put around her wrist.

''I'm happy to hear that, I was scared you might had a concussion or something.'' The German told her, recalling finding her passed out form in the car. ''I'll leave you then, I'll see you tomorrow.'' Sebastian was about to take off when she stopped him.

''Hey, Seb,'' he turned around upon the call of his name, ''I already talked to George, but thank you for helping me out there, I don't remember it, but it was very nice of you and you could have just kept driving, but you didn't.'' She thanked him, taking a few steps closer to him.

He brushed it off. ''You don't have to thank me, Y/N. It was the right thing to do and I wanted to make sure you were okay.''

''You know, I don't wanna get sentimental and all, cause that's embarrassing,'' he laughed at her words, ''but I really appreciate that you've been kinda taking care of me ever since I joined you guys, even before when I was still karting, and you didn't have to do that, but you took it upon yourself to guide me and stand up for me, and I- well, I'm just really thankful, that's all.''

The sincerity in her voice almost brought tears to his eyes. This sport hasn't always been kind to people who fell out of the usual norms of F1, especially to women. So, when he heard about a young girl that had been winning against boys older than her who had more resources, he took it upon himself to reach out to her and her family. Sebastian saw potential in her and offered to mentor her, and even financially help her out. Now, many years later, she's racing alongside him and many other top drivers.

He remained silent, but pulled the girl in a heartwarming embrace. Y/N was surprised, but nevertheless put her arms around his shoulder while his were around her waist.

''Don't make me cry, I just put on mascara and it's not waterproof.''

[venusacrossthestars]

Doughnut Holes

Pairing- Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

A/N: I literally hate this, this is a hodgepodge of randomness, I'm so sorry. I also really want a doughnut hole now. This is @arieslost doing, we couldn't stop talking about Lando and I loved every second.

WC- 6k-ish

F1 masterlist

One might compare the inner workings of a Formula 1 team to a carefully crafted house. You had the foundation, walls, floor, roof, all of the main components that made a structurally secure house. Then you had the fluff- all the things that weren’t technically needed but the things ultimately made a house, a home. Without the fluff, the house was nothing but a cold, unwelcoming shell. 

You would be considered a part of the fluff, you were among those who brought the warmth, the love, and all of the things that the others didn’t. While McLaren didn’t necessarily need you to run successfully, it seemed that a certain driver did. 

Lando considered McLaren to be his second home, after all, he does spend the majority of the year with them. The people, the constant movement, nothing was ever still and for the most part he enjoyed it. His whole career was based around speed, but sometimes he couldn’t help but wish for it all to slow down.

Like everyone, Lando had his good days, and then his not-so-good days. The latter becoming more and more constant. It would start off with something small- waking up five minutes before his alarm went off, putting on a pair of socks only to find one had a hole in it, or arrive at a meeting- only to find out that all the doughnut holes were gone. Then it would escalate, it could be anything, from learning that something was wrong with the car to having media duties after a terrible qualifying. Lately, anything that could go wrong was going wrong. 

The first time Lando had met you, well more like the first time Lando saw you, was no different. Lando had woken up late, couldn’t find a pair of matching socks, and had a half-dead phone because his charger had broke the night before. He didn’t care for meetings when he was in a good mood, and he certainly cared for them less when he was in a bad mood. By some miracle, he arrived on time for the meeting but not nearly early enough for a doughnut hole. Lando closed his eyes for a moment, he could hear as more and more people entered the conference room and hoped that this day could only get better. 

“Mate, you look like crap.” Lando’s eyes snap open and turn to the Aussie driver who looks at him with a frown. 

“It really hasn’t been my morning, more like it hasn’t been my week. Nothing is going right and frankly, I’m sick of it.” 

Oscar gives him a sad smile, “I’m sure things will turn around.” 

“I hope so.” 

The meeting had begun like every other meeting, a promise for a good season, what was being worked on, the same old same old. However, they weren’t even at the twenty-minute mark when another person entered the conference room. Lando, like everyone else in the room, turned their heads to the newcomer. 

“Sorry,” the newcomer squeaked out, clearly embarrassed by all the attention focused on her. “I’m just here to drop off the flash drive you forgot Zak.” 

“Oh, thank you Y/N, what would we do without you?”

“Crash and burn, sir. Crash and burn,” the girl- now known as Y/N replied with a smile. And although you weren't smiling at Lando, he really wished you were. 

You had left as quickly as she had came, the only thing left in Lando’s mind after the meeting was your smile and the fact that his day had gotten miraculously better. 

Bad days didn’t typically phase you, it generally meant that things would only get better. 

But, walking in late to a meeting you weren’t even a part of was not the pick me up you needed. The day had already started out rough- your car wouldn’t start, your sock had a hole in it, and worst of all- catering was out of doughnut holes by the time you got there. 

It was a quick 1, 2, 3 drop and go but there were so many important people in that room, including the two McLaren drivers. Even though you didn’t do anything remotely embarrassing, you were up that entire night overthinking it, but in reality, it wasn’t like anyone was going to remember the girl who simply dropped off a flash drive. 

A week had passed since the meeting, and things were looking up for little Lando Norris. He had matching socks, a working phone charger, and most importantly he was holding the last powdered doughnut hole. However, he had not seen the girl from the meeting anywhere. It wasn’t surprising with how many people were coming and going, each had their own responsibilities. That didn’t mean Lando wasn’t disappointed, there was something about that girl. 

A quiet ‘son of a bitch’ caused Lando to snap out of his thinking, as he turned to face who was muttering such profanities so early in the morning he was met with the slight of you standing at the catering table. 

“Everything ok?” Lando would be a fool if he was going to let his opportunity to talk to you slip through his fingers. 

“Huh?” you responded almost unsure if the Lando Norris was talking to you. 

“You just swore? So I’m assuming something happened?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing really, its just that- never mind it's stupid.”

“Not stupid enough for you to be swearing at 8 in the morning.”

You wave your hand dismissively, "it's just that I woke up on time and got here early all for a doughnut hole and there's none left.” 

Lando casts his eyes down to the napkin in his hand that contains the last doughnut hole and holds it out to you, “here you can have mine.” 

You look down at his extended hand and bring both of yours up in protest, “No it's ok. I think I’ll survive without it.” 

“No take it, I shouldn’t really even be eating it.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely positive,” Lando says as he holds his hand out further. 

“Thank you,” you take the precious breakfast treat with little hesitance and pop it into your mouth. 

“I’m Lando by the way,” Lando holds out his now empty hand. 

“I know, I’d be surprised if anyone working here didn’t know who you were.” You tease, grabbing his hand with yours and shake it. 

“Oh, I supposed you're right.” Lando rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, ‘way to make a complete fool of yourself, obviously, she knows who you are’ he thinks.

You giggle at his response and offer him a smile, “I’m Y/N,” but before you can say anything else you are interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone, “and I am needed elsewhere, have a nice day Lando. It was lovely meeting you.”

Lando watches as you answer the phone and scurry off elsewhere, but he is definitely going to have a good rest of his day now, not even the lack of a doughnut hole could bring his day down.

Before what you and your coworkers now call the doughnut hole occurrence™, you've never interacted with Lando, there were a few occasions where you happened to be at the same meeting as him, but never enough for him to notice you or have him introduce himself. Now, however, you seemed to be seeing him a lot more, well more than the other McLaren driver. Maybe, it was because both of your schedules lined up or it was like that phenomenon where you see one certain car, then all of the sudden you’re seeing that car everywhere. But what changed in the matter of weeks that now he was everywhere? 

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find the British driver attractive. But you were two separate worlds away, you- an assistant who was a constant people pleaser, and he was, for a lack of better words, himself. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, hell you had one conversation with the guy over a breakfast treat. You didn’t even really consider the two of you colleagues, you both ran in different circles of the racing world. That fact didn’t stop you from giving him a smile every time you saw him and to your, and your coworker's surprise, he would give the small gesture a return. 

You truly hated being a people pleaser, especially now more so than ever as you stood outside the door of Lando’s driver room. “Stipud Debbie, stupid saying yes. ‘Oh Y/N they need a temporary assistant for Mr. Norris. I told them you’d be perfect for it', ” you mimic Debbie, your supervisor. “Why couldn’t I have said no?” 

Many of your co-workers liked to joke that you were a jack of all trades. That you could be pushed into the deep end without knowing how to swim and learn that second. You were a quick thinker, that's how its always been. But even the most flexible of people had their limits, and you were currently staring yours in the face. 

Lando didn’t know what to expect as he opened the door of his room to the hallway, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting you of all people to be standing there muttering to yourself. 

“Can I help you?” Lando asked, puzzled as to why you were here. 

“Sorry, I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Y-”

“Y/N, “Lando interrupts, “I remember you. You’re the girl I gave my doughnut hole to.” 

“Oh, yeah. That’s me,” you chuckle out, “it looks like I’m your new assistant for the foreseeable future.” 

“I don’t really see the need for an assistant,” Lando says. His words cause your face to fall, and he quickly tries to backtrack, “It’s nothing personal but during the season I am either- traveling, racing, doing media duties, or sleeping. So I really don’t know who said I needed one.” 

“I don’t know either, Debbie, my supervisor recommended me and now here I am,” you gesture out, “and I really don’t want to tell my boss that you said that.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do. I mean I do, do things.”

“Ok,” you draw out with a nervous breath, “I mean I am a bit of a people pleasure. As long as you don’t ask me to do anything gross, illegal, or really immoral I think we’ll be fine.”

“See those are all the things I need an assistant for,” Lando jokes. He notices how your shoulders lose some of their tension. “But if you are my assistant does this make me your boss?” 

You seem to ponder his question, “Maybe, but probably not.” 

“Fair enough.”

The first few weeks of working for, or more with Lando have proved to be smooth sailing. You weren’t being pulled in eighteen million directions, nor were you running around like a headless chicken. Lando was right when he said he didn’t really need an assistant. You probably answered a few emails, some phone calls, ran out and have gotten him a few random things but that was about it. 

There were also a few things you have learned about Lando during your time together. He never demanded, he always asked politely- something that your previous employers and co-workers never did. He also always insisted on eating meals together, anytime he ate he always made sure you were eating too. Lando also talked a lot, not that it was a bad thing, at first it was a bunch of small talk- he asked about your family, if you hand any pets, what your friends were like, what kind of hobbies you enjoyed, things like that. Then he would ask your opinions on things, what he should wear, what sandwich he should get and once joked with you, “you’re my assistant, you should be telling me what to do anyways.” It almost felt like a friendship instead of an employee-employer relationship. 

Today was no different, Lando was going on about some TikTok he saw the previous night, a TikTok that he had already sent you. “And the dude wiped out and ate shit. I’m telling you, that while I felt bad, I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard.” 

“The way he landed, there is no way he didn’t break a bone or several.” You responded not looking up from your computer. 

It was hard working with a funny, talented, kind, handsome man. A man whom you were already attracted to without knowing him and getting to know him, the really Lando Norris, was only making it worse. 

“Let's do something, I’m dying of boredom,” Lando drones out, flinging himself down on the couch next to you. 

“Lando, I am trying to reply to some of your business emails, y’know my job.” you continue to type away, trying to emphasize your point. However, you are rudely interrupted when your laptop is ripped out of your grasp. 

“The emails will still be there later, let's go do something!” Lando exclaims now dangling your computer away from you. 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know, I was hoping you’d have an idea.” 

“Yeah, I got one.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, it's called giving me back my computer so I can do my job,” you deadpan as you lunge for your computer. Lando's reflexes however are much quicker than your movements, so you are left pressing into him, computerless. 

You quickly sit up and turn away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment. By doing so you miss the small frown that Lando gives at your quick retraction. 

Lando however quickly recomposes, “I know,” he stands, “let's go bowling!” 

“Bowling?” 

“Yeah, y’know, the game where you basically throw a heavy ball down a lane and try to knock down the pins.”

“I know what bowling is you doof.�� 

“Then why’d you say it like that?” 

“Because out of all the options in the world, you pick that.” 

“For your information, I like to bowl.” 

“Yeah, you also like to golf. You really like your old man sports huh?” You tease. 

“Hey! That’s not very nice missy,” Lando waves his finger at you mockingly. 

“Fine, I apologize Mr. Norris. I would love to go bowling.” 

“Yippie!” 

“Lando?” 

“Yeah?”

“Never say that again.” 

“Yeah, right, sorry.” 

Lando was excited, he actually didn’t know why he picked bowling. Truthfully, he just wanted to get out and do something, preferably with you. These past few weeks with you as his assistant have been amazing. Not because he had someone running around doing his bidding, but because he had someone to talk to. At first, it felt weird talking to you, he kept asking you random questions. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into answering him just because in some run-around way he was your boss. He wanted you to feel comfortable around him, and he could tell that the more he joked around with you, the more at ease you felt.

The two of you walked down the hallway towards the exit, talking seemingly about nothing. Well, you were doing most of the talking, not that he minded, he could listen to you ramble for hours. Whenever you were around, everything else became fuzzy. He noticed how your eyes got a certain twinkle to them as you talked about your favorite things. He knew how you loved Oreo cheesecake, and that your favorite doughnut holes were the red velvet ones, but since catering didn’t offer those you had to choose your other favorite, powdered sugar, and that you also had a distaste for fish, claiming it tasted like how still water smelled. 

He tried to show you that you were more than an assistant to him. He always made sure to eat with you, he never demanded anything, he asked your opinion on important things. Lando knew, however, that those things were the bare minimum, hence why he asked you to go bowling. 

“Where ya going?” The familiar accent of Lando’s teammate stopped them in their tracks. 

“Hey Oscar,” you turned to great the Australian, “Lando wanted to go bowling, so I guess we're going bowling.” 

“I haven’t been bowling in forever. Last time I went I had to play with the gutters up.” 

You gasped, clasping your hands in front of you, “why don’t you come with us?”

Lando froze at your invitation, he was hoping that it would just be the two of you. He could see Oscar's gears turning in consideration. He looked at you then behind you at Lando, who was shaking his head and moving his hand in front of his neck, trying to tell his teammate to say no. 

A grin split across Oscar's face, “y’know what, I would love to go bowling with you and Lando.” 

At Oscar’s response, you swiftly turned back around to Lando, who swiftly changed his movement. Rubbing the back of his neck he gave you a sheepish smile, “great, the more the merrier I guess.” 

The drive to the bowling alley was painfully quiet, normally the silence would be filled by Lando’s rambling but the Brit had no quirky comments. This led you down a spiral, did you do something to upset him? Was he mad at you for inviting Oscar? You thought the two of them were close and that Lando would’ve invited Oscar anyways after running into him. 

The three of you entered the alley still in silence and frankly, you were fed up with it, “is this a bad time to say that I am absolutely terrible at bowling?” 

“No,” Lando speaks up, “it just means that I am going play the easiest round of my life.” 

The clerk hands you your shoes and assigns your group a lane. “I feel like a clown with these shoes,” Oscar admits. 

“You look like one too,” Lando deadpans. 

“Jeez, no need to be rude.” 

You look at Lando with a raised brow. You can't tell if he is joking or not. 

“Anyways,” you but in, shifting their attention to you, “How are we going to decide who goes first?” 

“It’s only fair that the master goes first to show the peasants how it's done,” Lando declares. 

You and Oscar share a look of ‘can you believe this guy?’ “Go for it then all mighty master.” 

You watch as Lando goes for his turn, and much to Oscars and yours amusement the ball goes straight to the gutter. The little screen over the lane plays a silly animation indicating that Lando, had in fact, not hit a single pin. 

You are unable to control your laughter, tears pool in your eyes. You have to hunch over in your seat in order to keep your laughter at bay. 

“It’s not funny,” Lando pouts. 

“You’re- you’re right,” you wipe at your eyes and take a deep breath, “it’s not funny. It’s fucking hilarious.” You managed to get out in between a fit of giggles. 

“You're lucky your laugh is cute,” Lando waves his finger in warning. 

Your stomach flips at his admission. Your laugh, cute? Your gaze meets Landos and he is quick to turn around and go for his second turn. 

“Did I hear that right?” you whisper to Oscar. 

“Yup,” is all he offers in response. 

You hear a collision of the ball and pins followed by a loud “SPARE!” from the overhead TV, indicating that Lando has in fact struck a spare.

“See I just needed a warm-up,” Lando says wiggling his fingers at you and Oscar. “Who’s next?” 

“Ladies first,” Oscar gestures for you to stand. 

Rolling your eyes you stand, “wow, so chivalry isn’t dead.”

Walking over to the lane you can’t help but look back at Lando, who gives you a double thumbs up. Taking a deep breath you throw the ball down the lane, and to your surprise, you manage to hit, not one, not two but four pins. 

“Not too bad,” you hear Lando from behind you. 

“All those years of Wii bowling must’ve paid off.” 

“Just don’t throw it backward.” 

“I make no promises.” 

Your next toss is much better, out of the six pins left you managed to knock down five. You turn around to gloat but the two McLaren drivers are in discussion, Lando looking pissed off and Oscar looking unapologetic. 

“Is everything ok over here?” You stand with your arms crossed staring down the two of them. You came out to have fun, not to babysit two pissy twenty-something-year-olds. 

“Everything is fine,” Lando snips out. 

“If you say so, Oscar you're up.” 

The Aussie groans, “you both did good, this is going to be embarrassing.” He points to you, “I thought you said you were bad at bowling.” 

“I’ve channeled the Wii bowling Gods and they have blessed me, maybe you can do the same,” you tease as you sit next to Lando. 

You turn your attention to Lando and quietly ask, “Is everything ok?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Well you were quiet on the drive here, you’ve been a little bit snippy towards Oscar and I. And just now- you were talking to Oscar and you looked pissed off.” 

“I’m fine.” Lando shrugs off your worrying. 

“He’s just pissy I interrupted your alone time,” Oscar interjects. 

“You went already?” Lando asked, surprised by the quickness. 

“Yeah, it goes by fast when you roll two gutters in a row.” He shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Wow, you really are bad,” you admit, “but what do you mean by ‘our alone time.” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs again. 

Lando is quick to get up, seemingly uncomfortable with whatever Oscar meant by ‘alone time’. Now you really need to know. 

“Oscar,” you poke him in the shoulder, “what did you mean by that?”

“Like I said, nothing,” 

“You might be able to act all innocent and good in front of the cameras, but you Oscar Piastri are the biggest shit-stirrer of them all.” 

Oscar just shrugs at that, leaving you to wonder what he meant. Did Lando truly just want to spend time with you and only you? Was this just because Lando saw you as a friend and wanted to hang out. Or was this as an ‘I want to get to know you better because I like you and could potentially have feelings for you?’ hang out? The first one, you rationalized, it's definitely the first one. 

The rest of the game went in a blur, too focused on what Oscar said and what your overthinking brain was processing. 

Lando has never felt more uncomfortable and furious at the same time, and all because of Oscar’s comment. He really shouldn’t have let it get to him, it was just a friendly jab, Oscar knew how Lando felt about you. He also couldn’t get the look on your face at Oscar's comment out of your head. You probably thought he was a creep or some weirdo. 

The ride back, albeit not as uncomfortable as the ride there, was still filled with this silence that Lando did not care for. 

“Mate, how did you manage to roll a gutter almost every single time?” 

“I don’t know, it's almost sad,” Oscar admits. 

“Oscar, it is sad,” you but in, “there has to be a statistic out there or something saying it's harder to do that than actually knocking down pins.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Oscar exclaims, “you still lost.” 

“Yes, Master bowler Mr. Norris reigns supreme. But at least I managed to score points. I even got a strike! That’s more than you can say!” 

“I am never hanging out with you two again. You are the worst.” Oscar huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and stares out the car window like a pouting child. 

‘Good’ Lando thinks to himself. He would’ve said it out loud but after you had asked him what was wrong at the bowling alley he tried to be in a better mood. Granted, having Oscar come along wasn’t what he had in mind when he asked you to hang out with him, but he still had an alright time. Plus, he did get to hang out with you, which was better than sitting around doing nothing while you answered emails. 

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” you told Lando once back in his driver's room. 

Lando whipped his head around to see you packing up your laptop and other miscellaneous belongings scattered around the room. “What? But it's still early.” 

“Yes, and I still have emails to answer remember?” 

Lando groaned at the remembrance, “but I’m still-” 

Lando stopped at the sight of your raised palm, “If you say you are still bored I am going to smack you, and besides I think you need to call it an early night because you were extremely crabby with me and Oscar earlier.” 

“Crabby? I’m not a toddler who forgot his nap.”  

“Are you sure? Because it was hard to see the difference earlier.” 

“I just wanted to hang out with you.” 

“And you did hang out with me, did you not? 

“Yeah, but Oscar was there too. I just wanted the two of us to hang out.” 

“Lando you see me every day, we ‘hang out’ all the time.” 

“No, you’re working most of the time,” he corrects you. 

“We get nearly every meal together, no? You send me TikToks, funny tweets, reels. You meet me after all your media duties, qualifyings, and after the races. We see plenty of each other.” 

“Do you not like spending time with me?” Lando asks dejectedly. 

“Did I say I didn’t like spending time with you?” 

“No, but you also didn’t say you liked spending time with me.” Lando points out. 

You roll your eyes and Lando watches as you walk closer to him. Lando feels the heat of your palms through his shirt where they lay on his shoulders. His brain nearly short circuits, while this isn’t the first time the two of you have touched one another, this one feels different. 

“Lando I like spending time with you,” you shake his shoulders. “Maybe a little more than I should.” It’s quiet and Lando knows that he probably wasn’t meant to hear that. However, he feels relieved at the statement, knowing now that the feeling is mutual. 

You smile again, “as I said earlier- I still have emails to answer and you should get some rest, you crabby toddler.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waves you off, “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” 

“Of course, Goodnight Lando.” 

Lando can’t help the grin that breaks out on his face, and it stays that way till he falls asleep. 

It's the next morning and you are tying your shoes on when there is a knock at your door. 

“I’ll be right there, just give me a second,” you call out. 

You make it to the door and when you open it you are greeted with Lando’s smile. However, your view is obstructed when Lando all but shoves a brown paper bag in your face. 

“What is this?” you ask taking the bag, “it's not a dead animal is it?” 

“Do you think I'm so sort of psychopath?” 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” 

“Just open the bag.” 

Hesitantly, you unroll the top of the bag and peer inside. Thankfully, it's not a dead animal, instead in the bag lies half a dozen red spheres. 

“You did not!” You exclaim, and you can’t help but break out into a grin. “Where did you get them?” 

“I’ve never seen anyone get so excited over doughnut holes,” Lando laughs. 

“They aren’t just any doughnut holes! You got me red velvet doughnut holes, my favorite.” You pull Lando into a hug. In which he wastes no time returning your embrace, savoring the way you fit perfectly in his arms. 

“See I remember things, especially if they are about you.” 

You pull away, mostly from the shock of what you just heard. You can feel your cheeks heat up, and quickly you clear your throat, “Thank you, Lando, I really appreciate it. Do you want one?” 

“How can I refuse a pretty girl like you.” 

Your jaw drops, and Lando looks nonetheless phased as he pops the ball of dough in his mouth. 

“So on the agenda today is-” you begin, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, pulling your phone out to see what is actually on the agenda for the day. 

“Nope,” Lando snatches your phone from your hands, “I’m kidnapping you for the day.” 

You stare at him dumbfounded, “what?” 

“You and me are officially off the clock for the entire day, no meetings, no phone calls, and no emails.” 

“I mean that's kind of you, but why?” 

“Why not,” he shrugs, “I thought you liked to hang out with me,” Lando wiggles his eyebrows. 

Your palm meets your forehead, “I’m definitely getting a headache by the end of today,” you mutter. 

“I hope that was a comment about how excited you are to hang out with your favorite McLaren driver.” 

“Who said you were my favorite?” 

“Ouch, I buy you doughnut holes and this is how you repay me?” 

“How ever will the little Lando Norris survive?” 

“Come on you loser, I have kidnapping duties to attend to.” 

Who would’ve thought that skipping work with the person you work for could be so fun? Lando had all but dragged you from tourist attraction to tourist attraction, shop to shop. It almost feels like a date, he opens the door for you, offers to pay for your trinkets, all the things a boyfriend would do. You are quick to remind yourself that this is just a friendly outing, just two friends hanging out. 

The topic of dinner was being thrown around, after eating junk all day the two of you needed some substance, “I was thinking sushi,” you tease. 

“I know you're joking because you also hate fish,” he points out, “I was thinking more Italian, I know a place.” Lando grabs your hand and drags you in what you assume is the direction of the restaurant. 

“Did you have fun today?” Lando asks as the two of you are seated in what feels like a set right out of a romance movie. 

“I did, thank you.” 

“I’m glad, I felt bad for my behavior yesterday. I felt like an ass.” 

“Is this why kidnapped me?”

“No,” he quickly shakes his hands, “I did this because…” Lando trails off. 

“You did this because?” You urge him to go on. 

Instead of giving you an answer he scratches his chin and looks shyly at you. Your mind automatically goes to the worst-case scenario. 

“You’re firing me, aren’t you,” you rip the band-aid off, no point in beating around the bush, “I should’ve known it. First, you get me my favorite treat, then you take me all around the city. Oh my God, I should’ve known.” You slump down in your chair and cover your face with your hands. 

During your spiral you failed to notice how Lando’s eyes nearly bludge out of his head, he too is now panicking. 

You feel Lando’s warm hands as he reaches across the table to grab your wrists, “Y/N, god no I’m not firing you,” you still refuse to look at him afraid that if you do you’ll burst out in tears. “Come on baby, show me those pretty eyes.” 

That grabs your attention. Your head quickly shoots up, “what did you just say?” 

“Um, that I’m obviously not firing you?” 

“No, no, after that, you called me baby.” 

“Yeah, it um slipped out.” 

“Oh,” is all you can manage out. 

Lando lets off a soft curse, “I was going to tell you after dinner, but the reason I was pissed off yesterday was because I wanted to take you out bowling, kind of as a date?” 

“As a date?” You ask in disbelief. 

“Yeah, but then you invited Oscar, and I tried to get him to say no but that little shit doesn’t know how to take a hint. Or more like he does and just wanted to see me suffer. He didn’t make it any better with those little comments,” Lando rambles on, “what I mean to say is that I kind of have liked you since you interrupted that meeting a couple months ago.” 

You have never been at a loss for words like you are at this moment. “You,” you point to Lando, “like me,” then point to yourself. 

Lando nods, “Why though? I mean why me?” you ask. 

“Well at first I thought you were cute, you look so frazzled but yet you held your confidence. Then you smiled, and I wanted to be the one you smiled at so badly. I thought I would never have the chance to talk to you but then there you were, swearing at the lack of doughnut holes, and I couldn’t believe the universe had given me a second chance. Then you got a phone call and scurried away before I could ask for your number or anything like that. I was so mad at myself for the following weeks. I couldn't get your laugh, your smile, your snarkiness out of my head. Then you were outside my door saying you were my new assistant, and I almost turned you away.” 

If you were lookin in a mirror the only way to describe how you looked right now would be similar to a deer in headlights

Lando continues, “then, these past few weeks, I’ve gotten to know you more and more and I couldn’t help falling more and more. So yesterday I was planning on confessing after bowling but then Oscar joined us and I was pissed off and I took out on the both of you.” 

“Oh. This is a walking HR disaster,” you jokingly mutter.

“If you don’t feel the same I understand. And I won’t be upset if you don’t want to work with me anymore.” Lando quickly adds in. 

“But I do feel the same. I’m just confused,” you admit. 

“What are you confused about?” 

“You’re a famous Formula 1 driver, you are so big in this world that McLaren probably wouldn’t be able to function if you left. I’m nobody in this world, if I left everyone would go on like it's a normal day.” 

“You’re not nobody to me. I need you to function.” 

You smile at his admission, and you close the distance between your hands on the table, “I would consider this an amazing first date.” 

“Really?” Lando asks hopefully, “I kinda just complied a bunch of stuff together hoping you would like it.” 

“I loved it,” you admit before a look of horror flashes over your face, “I didn’t say anything after your confession, did I?” 

“You don’t have to,” Lando interrupts. 

“But I want to, that morning when you gave me the last doughnut hole I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was just a small gesture that made my day. I thought I knew who Lando Norris was before then, an attractive Formula 1 driver who just so happened to drive for McLaren-” 

“You think I’m attractive?” Lando giggles. 

“Yes I do,” you sigh out, cheeks burning at the thought of saying the rest of your feelings out loud. “But you quickly became Lando, the person who asked about the little things, the person who got to know me. All the little quirks that make me, me. I was trying so hard to stay professional, not let your little touches, the way you would talk, or all the times you insisted on getting lunch with me, all those things get to me. I was surprised when you offered me your last doughnut hole but I am so thankful that you did.” 

“I guess we should thank catering for never ordering enough doughnut holes for this?” 

“We should, I guess that doughnut holes can be our thing.” 

“Of course, they can be our thing.” Lando pauses, “Does this mean we’re dating now?” 

“Take me on another date, an official one this time, and you got yourself a deal.”

[jamneuromain]

A Whiff of Blood

Lloyd Hansen x You

Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader, Graphic Depiction of Violence (I guess Lloyd is a warning of his own?), Reader has light hemophobia (fear of blood), and ofc, the direction mention and description of blood, sexual harassment

Summary: It is a dumb idea to be working for Lloyd when you have hemophobia.

A/N: Based on the prompt from the bingo challenge. The inspiration came from @rogerswifesblog / @rogerswifesblog-updates when we were talking about business dinners and such.

The whiff of blood drifts out of Lloyd's office. You scrunch your nose and pull out a piece of tissue with a floral scent to cover half your face.

It is a dumb idea to be working for Lloyd when you have hemophobia.

The smell grows stronger, so you uncap your perfume and spritz it all over you.

As long as you turn your head the other way, or mask the scent with something stronger, your phobia will not act up. And considering Lloyd is paying you a hefty salary and bonus, you don't complain.

After all, when choosing jobs, at best, you can only pick two features out of "well-paid", "light work", or "close to home".

You are lucky that you can drive for an hour on weekends to visit your mom who lives in the suburb.

The door to his office swings open with a loud "bang", as if - no, probably, Lloyd kicks it open, and out comes two bodyguards dragging a heavy black garbage bag.

Quite heavy. Like 70 kilograms heavy.

You wouldn't want to speculate what is inside.

You turn your head the other way, facing a rather pleased Lloyd Hansen, the mob boss who pays you to be his secretary.

"Mr. Hansen, I've secured the dinner tonight at 7 pm with Mr. Suza Brewer. He owns the biker gang Hellbend ever since you helped him take out the previous leader Fitzroy. You will be having dinner at the restaurant named Bird. It's adjacent to the Ritz-Carlton, so you can take your pick whether to stay in your suite or go back home. Either way, I'll go tell your driver Denny to get ready." You don't even bother getting up, spinning your chair in his direction, you hand him the files, with a polite smile on your face, "These, I need you to sign so your clubs will be running as usual. Your head accountant Marilyn has an appointment with you in fifteen minutes, and I've called the cleaning crew. They are ready to clean up your office right now."

Lloyd snatches a tissue paper from your desk, wiping his silver blood-stained ring on his middle finger clean, before tossing the reddened, soaked, and irritating odor tissue onto the ground and out of your sight. A small smirk on his lips, Lloyd purses his lips to stroke his mustache with his finger, "Send them in."

You nod, picking up your phone from your desk, when he holds up his hand to stop you for a moment.

"Good job, Y/N." He says curtly.

Lloyd's icy blue eyes zero on you. After a few seconds, he speaks up again, "You're coming to the dinner with me."

You nearly jump from your chair. Shocked, but most importantly, confused, because he has never asked you to present during business dinners.

After all, those who were qualified for "business" are either ruthless or sociopathic. While your boss Lloyd is both, you are neither.

"Mr. Hansen, I-"

"You're off for the rest of the day. Call Denny, he knows where to buy a decent dress." He pulls out his wallet from his inside pocket, and hands his black card to you, "Consider this a bonus." His tone unrelenting, pushing the card on the desk further towards you, he issues his final command, "And tell Denny to find you a stylist."

You swallow your refusal and take his black card.

You know he doesn't take "no" for an answer.

"Thank you, Mr. Hansen."

He hums impatiently, waving his hand to gesture that the conversation is over for him.

For the first hour of the said "business dinner", you try your best to focus on the food in front of you, instead of the Brewer man. He is a few inches shorter than Lloyd, but the look he delivers when he stares at you is simply...

Fearful. Even more than Lloyd.

Having worked for Lloyd for nearly three years, you witnessed he yelled, shouted, pulled out his gun to shoot someone's brain out (you vomited on to his shoes, very unfortunately, for which he yelled at you for approximately half an hour), and of course, being mad at some business partners and the determination in his eyes to eliminate his rivals. But none of his looks scared you like the creepy feeling Suza Brewer brings you.

Lloyd gives off the vibe that he will shoot you alive, while Suza Brewer could skin someone alive. And Suza has not stopped stealing glances in your direction ever since you and Lloyd presented in this dinner.

You look at your plate, cutting a small chunk of carrot in half. Trying your best to ignore the four bodyguards, two from Lloyd and two from Brewer, standing in the back.

Convincing yourself. Maybe this Brewer guy likes to look, similar to many men who passed by your desk to reach Lloyd's office.

You raise your eyes carefully, taking a long exhale as you continue to persuade yourself that Suza Brewer brought a lady to the dinner, probably also why Lloyd has asked you to come along.

After a few glasses of wine, the girl Suza brought sat on his lap boldly, feeding him bites of cherry tomatoes.

"I'll say yes to your proposal. You and me, 50-50." Suza suddenly lets out a laugh, "I just want one tiny thing to sweeten the deal." He squints his eyes, and points his finger towards you, "I want - her."

The small chunk of carrot lingers on your lips as you are about to eat.

The young girl's jealousy could tear you in half, Suza's greasy lips smack together, as if tasting your flesh, and Lloyd simply looks at you, with minimum expression you have ever seen on his face.

"Excuse me?" Lloyd clenches his teeth.

"C'mon, buddy." Brewer smacks Lloyd a bit too hard on his shoulder, barking laughter with his yellow crooked teeth exposed into the air, "You can't keep such a sexy thing all to yourself, eh?" He wiggles his eyes suggestively, "Don't tell me you haven't fucked her yet?"

Now you HAVE to say something.

"Mr. Brewer, I assure you that my work with Mr. Hansen is strictly professional." You smile politely, raising your glass for a toast, "In fact, I think that's what we all want, Mr. Brewer, to have a long-term stable business relationship with Mr. Hansen. Here's to our thriving partnership-"

Brewer gets up from his chair and sways towards you. He could barely walk straight but he still manages to stand behind your chair, lowering his head right where your ear is.

As he speaks, he reeks of wine and meat.

"I'm talking to your boss, bitch. " Brewer snarls, slapping your hand so hard that your wine glass falls to the table. Startling you when you are trying to stay calm. "You are but a plaything to Lloyd Fucking Hansen and I'll have you whether you like it or not."

Now here's the difference between Brewer and the rest of the men who pass you to get to Lloyd's office. For those men, they work for Lloyd, and hence, they wouldn't dare to touch "Lloyd's belonging", which is you. Brewer, on the other hand, is a total wild card, which you understand perfectly as Lloyd worked with him to kill Brewer's adoptive father Fitzroy.

He is as unpredictable and unstable as Lloyd, maybe even more so, because Lloyd certainly hasn't laid a finger on you ever since you worked for him, neither sexually nor violently.

You even your breath as Brewer leans closer He grabs your boobs with his hand, having you freeze on your seat.

"In fact, I'll invite him to watch how I fuck his pretty little whore."

The chill seeps deep into your bones. You urge your body to fight back, but sanity tells you that you would probably end up in a dumpster with a bullet hole on your forehead if you ruin this big deal for Lloyd. For a brief second, you think about begging Lloyd. But in reality, your mind is point blank as the mindset in between "fight or flight" kicks in, and it instructs your body to play dead.

It might be a few seconds. Or a few minutes, before your savior swoops in, saying something that sounds like mumbling to your brain.

"We're done here." Lloyd growls, snatching your wrist with a grip hard enough to bruise, tugging you harshly to leave. Your knee and thigh bump into the wooden arm of the chair, to which you bite your lip in pain, and still too shocked to get your language system back online.

"But our contract-" Brewer shouts to Lloyd.

"I'll get back to you." Lloyd snaps back, pushing and shoving your back to move before him.

Your mind is a blur and cannot recall how Lloyd stuffs you into his limo when he steps outside to smoke. He did, however, throw his coat onto you and shut the car door with a loud "thud", having front-row driver Denny lowering the panel between you, whispering with much concern, "What's wrong?"

You curl your fingers into the black woolen coat. Folding it neatly as you have done hundreds of times when he throws his coat over you or over your desk. Placing it on your legs.

"Here. I'll tune the AC up." Denny showers you with his sympathetic look, as he has never seen you so out of yourself, so soulless, and shivering.

Your mind has been replaying how Brewer grabbed your boobs, and the filth he talked about. You also know that you have nowhere to hide, if Lloyd is determined to get something done, if he wants to deliver you to Brewer.

Though the tinted car window muffled some of Lloyd's angry shouting, you are still able to comprehend that Lloyd just got mad again.

"... CALL ME WHEN IT'S DONE!" Lloyd yells at his phone, opening the car door, and sliding in, taking a big inhale of the warm air inside. Glancing at you, he seems not having returned from his angry state, "AND THIS COAT IS NOT -" He lets out a grumpy huff, "never mind."

After a moment of silence, you feel like you should make your statement, no matter if Lloyd being unreasonable. You simply have to.

It's your life at stake here.

"Mr. Hansen, I just wanted to tell you that it has been a pleasure working with you these past three years. i have gained much experience and knowledge working as your personal secretary and assistant. I want to express my thanks for you cultivating me into a qualifying secretary and no matter what happens, I would want you to know that I cherish our business relationship and accept the consequence."

Lloyd listens through your statement surprisingly patiently, and pinpoints the most crucial idea (he thought that it was) throughout your entire speech, "You want a raise?"

You stutter, "No-No! Mr. Hansen! I wouldn't - What you have given me is well beyond market average and I appreciate your confidence in me."

"Ah. So you want to quit?"

His cold blue eyes stare into you. You gulp in fear.

"Yes, I mean - No, I don't want to quit. But circumstances have ... arisen, which makes me wonder ... uh, if I was able to -"

"I've had enough of it." He grumbles, twisting the ring on his finger, "Your next sentence starts with 'I want' and stop using these big words, sunshine. One sentence. Not another word."

"I - I want you to not deliver me to Suza Brewer." You quickly say, "Mr. Hansen." You did your best to be respectful.

His grumpy expression lingers on his face for a second, before turning into disbelief, "That's all you're asking for?"

"Yes...? I really liked working with you, Mr. Hansen, and I don't want to be put into a position that you are choosing between me and your ... business." Seeing that his mustache is twitching, inching close to a sneer, you add, "If you could just let me go, and claimed that I slipped through your custody or got away as soon as I could, I think that Mr. Suza would not mind that much -"

His index finger points up to shush you.

Lloyd snorts, fishing out a box of tictac and popping two colored-candy into his mouth.

Crushing the sugary treat with his jaw, he closes his eyes and roots his upper body firmly onto the back seat, "Denny, take us to the warehouse by the Westside Pier."

The Westside Pier.

The one place Lloyd would go to if he captures a traitor or fulfills a hitman contract.

The one place he could make a body completely go away.

He's about to end ... you?

The cold October wind does nothing to help you fight against the icy feeling in your bones.

The stylist Denny founded accompanied you during shopping and chose a most-fitting black dress for you, which goes a little over the knees. Along with the warm AC everywhere, the length didn't bother you -

-until now.

You hold Lloyd's folded coat in your hand, following Lloyd out of the car with teeth clattering, more out of cold than of the horrible thoughts of what he would do to you.

Lloyd turns around, grunting in a sarcastic way, "Can't believe your clever brain didn't work out why the coat-" before he stops whatever that's about to go through his lips, roughly taking the coat from your hands and putting it around your shoulders, "Try not to freeze to death."

Your hesitant expression must have been obvious, because he looks at you and purses his lips in slight irritation, "Don't do anything stupid. And follow me."

What does this even mean? That he doesn't want to kill you after all? Or that he has changed his mind and thought you know too many secrets to be alive?

Your mind buzzing with thoughts as you follow Lloyd through the gate of the notorious warehouse.

The swinging lightbulb over your head and the faint smell of blood make you nauseous. You have not stepped foot into this warehouse because you have heard of the cruel things Lloyd has done to his opponents, all of which happened here.

"I don't care how much your boss pays you, I-I'll pay you double!" A man screeches pathetically, taking hit after hit on his stomach from Lloyd's muscle man as two other hold him upright.

Looking at Lloyd's direction, the man's swollen and bruised face lights up in an instant.

"Lloyd! Buddy!" He gobbles in a mouthful of blood, "So glad, ehhehe, you came!"

Lloyd grabs his hair, and punches him in the stomach.

"Fuck you, buddy," Lloyd swings another punch at Brewer's stomach, a cold smile on his lips, "fuck you, alright?"

A sharp scream of pain. "Lloyd, I don't understand-"

Lloyd drags his head in front of you, bending his neck to face you, to which you cover your nose because of the strong smell of blood bombarding your nerves. "There. She's my people. You disrespect her, you disrespect me. Got it, you dumb fuck?"

"Sorry!" The man shrieks his apology, "I'm sorry!"

Oh. So that's what he meant.

You bury your nose under his soft woolen coat. Burying the lower half of your face. Your cheeks getting warm, and a small grin creeps up.

Feels kind of nice. To have someone watching over you.

"Our business," Brewer pants, coughing out blood, losing a few of his teeth, "you need me to do our business, Lloyd."

Lloyd smirks, waving to gesture the removal of Brewer.

The man is still screaming he's sorry, but the two muscles hold him by his arms, forcing him to stand on the edge of the pier and tying a large rock around his waist.

"But Mr. Hansen," You stop him in his tracks, "your business, your deal with-"

You point towards Suza Brewer, now with a gag so all he could manage is some muffled voices.

"Don't worry your head around it, sunshine." Lloyd places his hand on the coat collar and tugging it tighter. The look on his face blank, but somehow more sincere than his cold grins, "I'm working with his stepbrother now. Pal is so grateful that I help him take care of Suza; he decided to offer me 70% of the cut."

You let out a whispered "Oh". Glad that Lloyd's "business" is thriving but also ... not that glad.

He's doing this for his business after all ... while he'd get to ... make it up for you?

A strange feeling tugging your heart. Some sort of relief, but not entirely. You are disappointed, somehow, as if you believed there should have been more to this gesture.

The muffled screaming stops after a loud splash comes from the edge of the pier.

The three muscle men return. One of them announces: "He's been taken care of, boss."

Smelling the whiff of blood on them, you can't help but crouch onto the ground and hurl your guts out.

Lloyd gestures those men to "beat it". And as the air clears from the smell of rusted iron and salt, a white handkerchief dangles in front of your eyes.

"Don't puke over my shoes again." Lloyd stands still, pinching his handkerchief between his index and middle finger, handing it to you.

You gag a few times, covering your mouth with the smooth white handkerchief, turning into another direction other than his shoes.

"Mr. Hansen, I don't know you -" You fight the instinct to be sick in front of him, standing up from your crouching position with wobbly legs, "carry a handkerchief." You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, wiping the corner of your mouth using the white fabric, now stained with the red smudge of your lipstick, "I'll dry clean it along with your coat, and send it-"

He seizes the handkerchief and stuffs it in his front pocket, "Don't bother."

He pats on your shoulder. The same way he would pat his men. A silent encouragement and praise of "Good work".

"Mr. Hansen, I-"

You want to say something. The precise moment when your heart skipped a beat and you've captured something vague in your mind, some terrifying yet imminent. Your bones rattle in the possibility of the blurry idea. But when his blue eyes turn to you, the idea takes its chance and slips from your mind.

"-thank you." Is all you could say.

"Wait for me in the car." He searches his pocket for his box of matches and cigarette, waving his hand, shushing you away, with the cig between his lips. He sounds stern as ever, but deep down, you feel like something has changed.

Lloyd watches you as you head back to the car. You, his tiny, fragile, delicate, poor little secretary who gets sick at the sight or the smell of blood.

He watches you still wrapped in his coat. When the cold October wind sweeps by your feet, you shiver under the warm expensive wool.

He stares for a long time when the match used to light his cigarette burns the tip of his fingers.

"Shit." He grumbles.

[xxblairexxss]

Jealousy (part 3)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

I felt like including everything so I somehow couldn’t end it in 3 parts because there was still a lot to cover. I’m sorry. 😔

Please let me know if I missed you in my tag list!

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When you arrived at your parents’ house, your dad started bombarding you with questions. He wasn’t expecting you to be here because it was race week and you would normally be with Charles.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I just missed my old bedroom.” You flashed a toothy grin and dragged in your suitcase.

“Really?” Your dad raised a brow, looking rather dubious. “What’s wrong with your daughter?”

“Oh, let her be. She probably just wanted to spend some time with us.” Your mom rolled her eyes and kissed your cheek.

You didn’t tell your parents about what happened. You wanted everything happened between you and him stayed between both of you.

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You had blocked Charles everywhere you could think of so you didn’t know if he even made an attempt to call you or, if he actually cared to chase after you.

“Honey! The qualifying is starting!” You heard your dad called out from the living room. He had always been a huge fan of the sport and never missed any of the races.

“I’m not gonna watch!” You yelled out in reply and laid back vertically on your bed, legs up in the air as you scrolled through your Instagram.

“Come and watch your boyfriend!”

“I’m okay, dad!”

“You are missing out!”

You groaned and dipped your face into the pillow so you could scream your head out. How you wish your dad could read the room instead of forcing you to watch your boyfriend or ex boyfriend when it hadn’t even been a week since you left him.

“Look! It’s your boyfriend!” His eyes never left the screen, didn’t spare you a glance when you walked to the living room as you joined him.

He ended up crashing during the qualifying round. It was bad enough that they had to put a red flag, putting the Q3 on hold for more than 10 minutes but he was fine. The car on the other hand was badly damaged that they were unable to continue, putting him in the last position for the starting grid. Sure, you were upset with him but you sworn the crash on the live television made your blood run cold. You were so close to tears if they didn’t show a glimpse of him stepping out of the car the next second and for that same second too, your anger for him was all melted down and long forgotten.

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“Did something happened between you and Charles?” You looked up from your sour gummies and blinked in surprise to your mom’s word. You knew you could never hide things from her. Different from your father who couldn’t be any more oblivious to what happened, you knew she had been wanting to ask the question the moment you came back to the house but she never wanted to bring up the topic in front of your dad.

“Nothing happened, mom.”

“If nothing happened then he wouldn’t call me to ask about you.” She nodded when you widen your eyes at her.

“He called you?! What did he want?”

“He just asked me how you were doing.”

Your face grimaced from the sourness that hit you and earned a poke on your waist.

“Y/N, can you be serious? What happened between both of you?”

You clicked your tongue. “We got into a fight. He got jealous and channeled all his anger towards me without hearing my explanation first.”

“I don’t want to know the details because that’s between you and him. At least, honey, let him reach you out through a text. You’ll never know what could happen to him. Take the qualifying round just now as an example.”

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The screen on your phone had been reflecting the same image for the last 10 minutes. It was a reflection of your face. You weren’t sure if you should unblock his number. What if you did, and you got disappointed because it turned out he didn’t actually made any attempt to chase after you. What if he only gave your mom a call and that was it. What if you unblocked him and he didn’t even realised about it because he never really cared.

You eventually clicked on the unblock button, getting dizzy from the constant staring contest with your own reflection and tossed your phone aside so you could go and take a shower. You somehow became more diligent to do everything, anything, including cleaning your room just to take off your mind from all the ‘what ifs’ that kept on running around in your head.

He didn’t reply to your last text. You had a lot to say, actually. You wanted to ask if he was fine, if he suffered any pain from the crash earlier but he deserved this. Just like how he refused to listen to you that night, he didn’t deserve to talk to you now.

Thought you hated to admit that it was hard to fall asleep both without being in his embrace and unable to tell him about all those random facts you saw on the internet. You liked how he didn’t just attentively listen to everything you said but also responded to everything.

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flash

You let out a gasp and double tapped the screen of your phone. “Wow! Baby, did you know about this?”

You question was replied with an absolute stillness. “Charles!” You softly jabbed him on his middle and felt him stirred, his arms that was nicely wrapped around your waist went a little firm.

He had his face buried against your hair, having your back facing him so you didn’t know he had fallen asleep. “Did you know?” You asked again, still on the same topic.

He groaned and you heard him took a deep breath before he finally replied. “I’m not sure what you are talking about, precious.”

“This! A greenland shark can actually live up to 500 years. They are like the grandpas of the sea!” You giggled, turning your body to face him and saw he still had his eyes closed. “Do you know how a greenland shark looks like? They look really old.”

You would have thought he was asleep if you didn’t see him shaking his head.

“Look at it!” You brought your phone to his face and he winced from the brightness of it.

“Why is your phone so bright. My eyes hurt.”

“Did you see? Don’t they actually look old?” You flashed your phone back at him again and he pulled his face away so he could see the picture clearly.

“Yeah, how old is that one? He looks 400 years old max.”

You laughed and slide to a different video. “I don’t know. They didn’t state the age for this one.” You were now laying on your back and Charles draped one arm on your stomach as he was laying on his side, his face was now back into the side of your neck.

It was silence again for another minute before you giggled, again, and tilted your head to the side, feeling his soft hair against your cheek. “Baby, apparently a sea turtle can swim faster than Usain Bolt can sprint!”

You heard him stirred again in his sleep. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you, love. What did you say?”

“Sea turtles swim faster than Usain Bolt’s sprint!”

He stifled a yawn and titter. “That’s a lie. Don’t you know how fast Usain Bolt is?”

“It’s a fact on the internet!”

“This is why you shouldn’t believe everything on the internet.” He poked you on your waist, giggling along as he brushed his lips on your jawline. “Can we sleep now, baby or is there any other facts you want to tell me?”

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You woke up next morning and saw your dad already sitting in front of the television, watching the press conferences of the drivers. You weren’t going to watch but something caught your eyes when you were about to look away from the screen. Your ring. It was drooped from Charles’s neck. He looked like he didn’t get enough sleep, the eye bag under his eyes looked way obvious than usual. It made you feel bad, wondering if you should have let him called you last night.

You pressed the call button and it didn’t get a chance to ring when you heard his voice on the other line. “Y/N?”

“Charles, hi..”

“Are you okay?”

“I just…wanted to wish you good luck. I know it doesn’t mean a lot to you.”

“It does.” He replied, cutting you off.

“What?”

“It means a lot to me. I needed that. Thank you, bab– Y/N. I don’t think I could do well today since I’m starting at the very end but I’ll try my best, now that I got to hear your voice.”

“My dad is so excited he has been sitting in front of the television since the morning.”

“That makes me nervous.”

You chuckled at his words. “Get the car to top 5, pilot. I’m sure you can do that.”

“If I get that for this race, can you come with me to the next Grand Prix next week?”

You sat up, your hands started twirling your phone charm. You didn’t want to see him. At least not yet. You deserved a proper apology so you were actually going to ignore him until you felt like it but seeing how miserable he looked, you didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Please, Y/N.”

“Fine. Top 5 and I’ll come to the next race.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

He ended up with P4 and was chosen as the driver of the day which made your dad cheered and yelled out loud, telling everyone how he saw that coming. You were surprised. Though you never underestimated his talent, you weren’t completely confident he would nailed it since he told you how bad the car was yesterday.

You were still watching the television up until they did an after race interview to every driver. Charles walked into the frame and in just one glance, you knew he was elated. The grin, the dimple, the wrinkle on his eyes looking more visible from the way he greeted the interviewer. You saw the way he played with your ring, the one that he had made as a necklace while he was answering the questions and you couldn’t help but to smile, feeling proud of his result today.

But you didn’t text him or call him at all because you didn’t want to bother him and you didn’t want to look like you were excited to talk to him. It might sounded like a child but this was nothing compared to what he did to you. A notification popped in as you were too busy selecting a shade for your new liquid blush.

“Congratulations. You did amazing today.” You laid down once you answered the call, tugging on your duvet to cover your body even more as you made yourself more comfortable on the bed.

“I thought you didn’t watch the race?”

“I didn’t. My dad told me how it went.” You replied, lying through your teeth. As if you weren’t celebrating along when he crossed the finish line.

“I owe you that one. I wouldn’t be able to do that if you didn’t wish me good luck.”

“You are exaggerating!” You then turned on the loud speaker so you wouldn’t have to keep on holding the phone to your ear.

“I’m serious. Can I tell you everything about the race?”

“Sure.”

You listened to him talked about how the race actually went, how he had trouble with the mic earlier on that he had no idea when he should have pitted. He had skipped the after party because he thought you would have called him but you didn’t so he had been staying in his room, eagerly anticipating for a call that never came until he decided to text you first.

“Y/N?” Charles broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me more facts about animals?”

You sat back up and took your phone back into your hand. “I don’t want to. It’s boring.”

“It’s not. Tell me more.”

So you went on to Tiktok and started looking for more facts that you felt like you hadn’t told him about. You had a lot of new facts but didn’t have anyone to share it with so a small part of you was so glad he had actually asked about it.

“Do you know what’s the fastest animal on earth?” You heard him hummed, thinking of an answer.

“A cheetah?”

“Nope!” You replied, lips pressing to emphasise the ‘P’.

“It’s not cheetah? Then what is it?”

“A black marlin!” You exclaimed.

“What even is a black marlin?”

You kept on talking and talking until he stopped responding at one point. All you could hear was just a soft, light snoring sound. You rolled on your back and was contemplating to end the call until you heard a mumble on the other line. “I miss you..”

“I miss you too, Charles.” Your thumb lightly brushed against a picture of Charles and you laughing in each other’s embrace, taken by one of your friends a few months ago. “But you treated me so bad, I deserve an apology. Until then, I don’t think I can take you back. No matter how bad I want to.”

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @buendiabebeta @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @ironmaiden1313 @teenagedreams-cl @sheslikeacurse @love4lando @charli123456789 @ru-kru @httpspedri26 @honey6578 @ohthemisssery @sealsu @shyartisanvoidwagon

[bad268]

It Could Not Get Any Closer (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Yes by @abi184

Warnings: None. Just post race fluff

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 1724

Summary:  The gap for Kimi to become the FRECA Champion could not get any closer.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Google/FRECA switch announcement)

It was a tight race. Not just this race, but the entire season had been tight between Kimi and Martinus Stenshore. They have been running 1 and 2 since the start of the season, alternating between the two of them winning. It really came down to this last race in Hockenheim.

They were separated by three points going into this race with Martinus on top. The best part was the fact that they were split into different qualifying groups, so if they both qualified first in their respective groups, they would lock out the front row. It could not get any closer.

That is until their best qualifying times were within 0.001 seconds of each other. They had identical lap times until the very last corner where Martinus got the very slight upper hand. It could not get any closer.

That is until they went into the first turn. The track was wet, but the spray was manageable. Apparently, not manageable enough because Tim Tramnitz almost clipped the back of Kimi’s car and took him out of the race. He didn't, but it could not get any closer.

That is until the final lap. The final lap nearly killed you, and you weren't even driving in it! Kimi and Martinus were neck and neck after the first lap incident, and neither were letting up. After a few turns, almost pushing each other off the track, a slight mishap led to Kimi seeing an opportunity to overtake at the last corner. They finished the race 0.012 seconds apart from each other. It could not get any closer.

But hey, that’s a race, right? One has to win and one has to take second place. No one actually could tell who won the championship. They were just so close. All Martinus and Kimi knew was that they secured P1 and P2, that’s it. They were neck and neck across the line. It could not get any closer.

Sitting on the pit wall with the team as they talked through the headset to race control was nerve-wracking. The cars were coming around the track, into the pitlane, yet the teams still did not have confirmation that either of their drivers won. You were staring at the screen, hiding half of your face under the t-shirt you stole from Kimi in an attempt to see which car actually crossed the line first, but your focus was broken when a team started screaming and cheering. 

The Prema Team. That’s who was screaming.

Kimi did it. Kimi won the Formula Regional European Championship.

You broke out of your shock when Rene along with a couple of engineers started shaking your shoulders and pulling you toward parc ferme. Tim had already pulled into third place by the time you all got there, and Martinus was just pulling in. Just then, a replay of Kimi’s radio, when he crossed the line, sounded across the track.

“Who won?” He asked.

“We will get to you,” his engineer, responded.

“That was the hardest race yet,” He laughed.

“It was close. We’re checking with race control.”

A similar message was played but with Martinus and his engineer. Then, the screens showed a close-up replay of Kimi’s front wing just barely being over the line before Martinus. The crowd erupted into cheers once again as Kimi pulled his car into the first-place position.

You were standing at the gates, waiting for him to climb out of the car, but he seemed frozen for a few seconds. When he snaps out of it, he scrambles to remove the steering wheel and jump out of his seat, standing on the nose of the car with his arms above his head. The entire team cheers from him, including you, as he runs over to jump into everyone’s arms in excitement. Everyone moves to pat him on the back or helmet.

Once everybody calms down, they push you closer to the gate, so Kimi can hug you individually. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you over the barrier to pull you into his chest and spin you around.

“Amore mio (my love), I did it,” He whispered into your ear after he stopped spinning you but didn’t set you back on the ground yet. “I can't believe I actually did it.”

“You are a Formula Regional Champion now,” You whispered back to him. “You get to go to Formula 3 now. One step closer to your dreams, Kimi. I am so proud of you.”

“Wouldn't be here without you, mia belle (my beauty),” He pulled back as he saw Tim and Martinus come closer behind you to congratulate him. “I need to get up to the podium and post-race interviews, but meet me in the motorhome after. We’ll do something.”

~~

It was another few hours until you saw Kimi again. He was being pulled every which way with interviews and photos, so you didn’t mind chilling out in the pack of the Prema garage, watching the race replay with his parents. Afterward, they left, saying they would let you all celebrate and meet you back at the hotel. And with that, you were by yourself. You decided to use this time by scrolling through Instagram, making a post congratulating Kimi, and liking others.

At some point you fell asleep, so you did not see when Kimi entered the room. You also did not see the heart eyes he sent your way when he noticed that you had also stolen his sweatshirt and buried yourself in it. He chuckled to himself, seeing you dig your face deeper into the crook of your elbow before he sat on the floor in front of you and laid his head on the couch.

He stayed silent for a few minutes, just studying your face. It was nice to have a quiet moment to himself. He knew winning the championship would mean more media, but he didn’t think it would be dark by the time he finished. The race itself had ended around noon, and it was nearing 10 PM by the time he made it back to the garage. To say he was exhausted as well would be an understatement. While all of his friends planned to go out to dinner and celebrate, all he wanted to do was go back to the hotel room with you and sleep for the next 24 hours, and right now, he was even thinking about just sleeping here. He was just about to fall asleep, too.

That is, until one of his race engineers, Paul, knocked lightly on the wall, pulling Kimi’s attention away from you. “Kimi, we’re heading back to the hotel now. You two want a ride?” Kimi looked back at you, seeing you still peacefully asleep, before turning back to Paul. The engineer was smirking smugly at the young couple, and Kimi just nodded in response, not even acknowledging the smirk. “I’ll pull the car around to the front of the garage.” With that, Paul turned around and left to pull the car up.

Instead of waking you up, Kimi thought it would be better to carry you out to the car. First, he wanted to make sure he had everything, though. He changed out of his Prema polo and jeans to sweatpants and a plain t-shirt before throwing the clothes and other miscellaneous things into his backpack. He made sure to grab your wallet, your phone, and charger and threw them into the backpack as well. He thought that Prema would have his race suit and helmet, so he didn’t worry about it as he put the backpack on.

Walking back over to your sleeping figure, he made sure his phone and room key were in his pocket before moving his arms under your back and legs, pulling you into his chest. While you did not wake up entirely, you did wrap your arms around Kimi’s shoulders and hide your face in his neck. Kimi just chuckled lightly at your reaction before moving to leave the garage where Paul was just pulling up.

After a short drive to the hotel, they pulled up to the front entrance. Paul gave the key to the valet driver, and he grabbed Kimi’s backpack and key, so Kimi could continue carrying you. Paul ran ahead to call the elevator down, so by the time Kimi and you got there, the elevator was just opening. When they go to their floor, Paul opened Kimi’s room for him and set the backpack down by the door. Kimi went to set you on the bed before heading back to talk with Paul for a minute. Paul reminded him that the flight back to Italy would be at 2 PM, and the Prema team wanted to go out for a celebratory lunch beforehand. Paul said he would send more information in the morning and get a good night's sleep because he deserved it. With that, Paul bid Kimi goodnight and headed to his room.

The door closed a little faster than Kimi was expecting, so it slammed before he could grab it, causing you to shoot awake. You’re met with Kimi’s back from where he’s standing, reaching to grab the door. He slowly turned to face you, looking guilty as he made his way over toward the bed. He just collapsed on the bed, laying on top of you with his head on your chest with a sign.

“Mi dispiace amore mio (I’m sorry my love),” he mumbled into your chest, already falling asleep as you ran your fingers through his curls. “Voglio solo dormire. Svegliami alle undici per favore. Ti amo (I just want to sleep. Wake me up at eleven, please. I love you).”

“Ti amo anche io tesoro (I love you too darling),” you whispered placing a kiss on his forehead. Before he fell asleep, you knew you wanted to congratulate him one last time, “Sono cosi orgoglioso di te, campione (I’m so proud of you, champion).”

He didn’t respond as he was already letting out light snores, but his arms tightened around your torso as an unconscious thank you. You knew that you would have more time tomorrow to shower him with praise as you both celebrated the new Formula Regional Champion in a competition that could not have been any closer.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[scrollonso]

First Kiss (Race 7)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.2k words, no warnings) [@v3lnys @biancathecool] {This is short, sorry 😭 I'm seeing a pattern of me ending chapters with Strollonso hugging so if u get sick of it uhhhh idc i love it theyre so soft}

last part - masterlist - next part

Lance was in a great mood, coming into the paddock with Nico but quickly being taken away by Fernando.

They'd talked a lot since the older mans home Grand Prix, texting almost constantly and calling so Fernando could ramble about anything and everything (coming close to disclosing undisclosed renault information a few times)

"How are you?" He asked, turning to look at Lance while dragging him away from the paddock

"We were just texting, Nando" Lance laughed, shaking his head at Fernando as they came to a stop

"I missed your voice" The Spaniard hummed, looking up at Lance

"Yeah, yeah. You were just on the phone complaining to me about how Renault is changing their colour scheme next year." Lance didn't mind it, he liked talking to Fernando. It seemed like ever since Fernando won in Spain they'd just been getting closer every day

"That's besides the point!" Fernando laughed, waving his hand as he brushed it off "Do you feel good about today? First time in monaco for Racing Point"

"I do, I've raced here a few times so I know I'll be quick to get a hang of it in a Formula One car" Their conversations just seemed to flow, both of them listening closely to the other

"Planning to look pretty in pink on the podium?" The shorter man teased, elbowing Lance slightly as their hands fell apart

"On that highest step, yeah" Lance flashed Fernando a grin, playfully challenging the Spaniard

"The day I lose to you I will buy the moon in your honour"

They both laughed, Lance taking it as a joke but Fernando was seriously wondering if he could do that

Qualifying went by quick, as soon as he got to the pitlane Fernando ran up to him

"Lancito, what was your time?"

"Uh, 1:14:08"

"De veras?" His eyes lit up, Lance not understanding but going along "Lancito, you're p2"

Now he understood, this time he was the one to hug Fernando, practically smothering the shorter man

"Wait-" He pulled back, hands on Fernandos shoulders "You're-"

"Am p1, of course"

Lance smiled widely, his teeth exposed as he became excited for both him and Fernando

Lance was sat in the Racing Point garage, worrying about whethet or not he'd actually be able to keep his spot.

"Lancito!" A voice called, getting Lance's attention straight away. Fernando had just finished speaking with people from his team so now he could talk to Lance "Nervous?" He asked, Lance making his way to the Spaniard

"Of course not, you should be" Lance smiled, nudging the older man

"Am horrified" Fernando said, a serious look on his face that quickly turned into a small smile as the two looked at eachother, a laugh escaping his lips

Lance hit his shoulder lightly "Hey! This is no joke, I might make a crazy comeback and win the championship"

"Ah, yes, of course, Lancito" Fernando nodded, both of them knowing it wasn't possible but neither caring enough to be logical, they hadn't thought the two of them having a front row start was possible either but here they are

"Don't run into my car to sabotage me, okay? I need my rookie year championship"

"Of course, I'll let you have a head start, mi sol"

"Good!"

They were all lined up, Lances eyes glued to the lights in front of him, watching as they turned on one by one then stepping on the gas as they shut off.

Fernando kept the lead, not to anyones surprise. Lance managed to defend against Kimi who was trying to pass, building a 2 second gap between them and just over a second between him and Fernando.

On lap 23 he managed to pass Fernando, his hands shaking as he gripped his steering wheel, pushing his car as far as it could go. He led for a little over a lap before Fernando took it back, he wasn't too worried since there were still over 50 laps for him to take it back.

On lap 50 he started having problems.

"Brad, what's going on? Something feels off." He radioed in, having to shout over the noise of the track

"We aren't sure, Lance, just keep pushing. Fernando is .8 seconds ahead."

Lance nodded, knowing Brad couldn't see him but too determined to be in first again to think. The only thing on his mind was a podium.

Four laps later his hopes were squashed, his engine practically exploding behind him as he was forced to pull off to the side, half is car still on the track as they called out a safety car

"FUCK" He shouted, slamming his hands on the wheel. He felt his heart beating, he could hear it in his ears, how fast it was going, how much hope he had just a lap prior and now he was pulled off to the side with black smoke engulfing his car.

He got out quickly, moving closer to the barrier as he waited to be picked up. He felt as if he could cry. He had another great chance and it was ruined again. He felt like he couldn't win, like no matter what he was destined to just never get a podium. Every time he even thought about it his car would decide he didn't deserve it.

He was stuck in the garage debriefing for what felt like hours, Brad unsure why this kept happening, all he knew was Lance was sick of it. The teenager was getting restless, he wanted to show his skill, show people he's not just a billionares son but a brilliant driver. It didn't seem possible with the car he was given.

"I just- I'm so sick of it, I keep having any chance of succeeding torn away from me, I just want to do good. Why can't I just do good? Why can't i succeed?" He spoke quick, nails digging into his palm as he felt himself get more and more worked up over it, he wasn't sure why the DNF's were getting to him more, he knew he could do good, he'd done good, but the car would always give up before he could solidify his results.

Fernando left the podium, walking past the Renault garage and straight to Racing Point where he saw the Canadian sitting on a counter towards the side.

As soon as he saw Fernando he got up, going to him quickly. He didn't say anything, the Spaniard just opened his arms and Lance sunk into them, somehow always managing to feel small in the older mans embrace.

"You did good, am so proud, Lancito." He whispered, a hand finding its way to the boys head, stroking his long hair as he tried to make him feel better

Lance didn't speak, he just inhaled, taking in the scent of the world champion as he hid his face in his neck, not bothering to care about the crowds eyes and cameras on them. All that mattered was Fernando was there, his Fernando was there.

[elenasalvatore94]

The Push and Pull - 5

Hello, my people, ready for more? Let's go!

https://www.tumblr.com/elenasalvatore94/764986883797336065/the-yacht?source=share

(previous one)

Over the next few weeks, Chris and Franco couldn't seem to stay away from each other. Every race weekend brought them closer, but neither was willing to admit the depth of what they were feeling. It had started as just a physical attraction that exploded into something wild and undeniable. But now, it was becoming something else, something neither of them had anticipated.

Chris threw herself into her work, avoiding any unnecessary thoughts about Franco that weren't strictly professional. She was a journalist, after all, and he was an F1 driver-a much younger one at that. Her reputation mattered, and she wasn't going to be another one of those women tangled in a scandal with a driver. Yet, every time she was near him, her resolve crumbled.

They didn't talk about it-about what they were doing, or what it meant. They were good at pretending it was nothing. Casual, spontaneous, no strings attached. But beneath the surface, the tension between them simmered.

The problem was that Chris could feel Franco slipping under her skin. His cheeky smiles, the way his green eyes lingered on her in the paddock, his light touches that left her aching for more knew she was in trouble.

After one particularly tense interview post-qualifying, Franco caught her wrist as she tried to walk away, pulling her behind a trailer where no one could see them. His eyes were blazing with that familiar intensity that had her breath catching in her throat.

"Why are you running away from me, Chris?" he asked, his voice low but firm, his grip on her wrist firm but not painful.

"I'm not," she lied, hating the way her voice trembled slightly.

Franco stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "You are. You've been avoiding me all week. I thought we were having fun."

Chris narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her defenses up. "We are. That's all it is, right? Fun."

For a second, something flashed in Franco's something that looked dangerously like pain it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He stepped back, his expression guarded now, his usual cocky grin reappearing. "Right. Just fun."

Chris felt a twinge of guilt but pushed it aside. She wasn't about to get swept up in the fantasy of whatever this was. Franco was young, and she wasn't going to fall into some doomed affair with a rookie driver.

But later that evening, when they found themselves alone in a hotel elevator after a media event, all her defenses crumbled again. The moment the doors closed, Franco's hand was on her waist, pulling her against him. His lips found hers in a hungry kiss, and she melted into him, all her resolve shattering like glass.

"You're driving me crazy," Franco murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with need. "I can't stop thinking about you."

Chris gasped as his hands roamed her body, slipping under the hem of her dress. "We shouldn't be doing this," she managed to whisper, though her body betrayed her by pressing closer to him.

"We shouldn't," Franco agreed, his breath hot against her ear. "But tell me you don't want me right now."

Chris opened her mouth to say something-anything-but no words came out. Instead, she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into another kiss, losing herself in the sensation of him. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, but neither of them paid any attention. Franco quickly pushed her into the hallway, guiding her toward the first door he could find.

They stumbled into an empty conference room, locking the door behind them. The room was dimly lit, the large table in the center dominating the space. Franco wasted no time, hoisting Chris onto the edge of the table as his hands made quick work of her dress. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head and letting her hands roam over his chest, relishing the feeling of his toned muscles beneath her fingers.

Their kisses grew more frantic, more desperate as if they couldn't get enough of each other. Franco's hands slipped between her legs, and Chris moaned into his mouth, her body already aching for him. He didn't waste any time, pushing her panties aside and entering her with one swift movement that made her cry out in pleasure.

Chris wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, her nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust into her, hard and fast. The sound of their bodies moving together filled the room, along with their ragged breathing and the occasional moan. It was wild, and intense, just like the first time, but there was something more to it now. Something deeper.

Chris felt herself teetering on the edge again, her body tensing as Franco hit all the right spots. She tried to hold back, but it was no use. Her climax crashed over her, pulling her under, and she cried out his name as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Franco followed soon after, his body shuddering as he buried himself inside her one last time. They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together on the edge of the table, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened.

When Franco finally pulled away, he collapsed into the chair next to the table, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Chris leaned back on her elbows, her heart racing as she tried to process everything.

They didn't speak for a while, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Chris sat up, adjusting her dress as she looked at Franco. His green eyes met hers, and for a moment, something passed between them-something unspoken but undeniable."Maybe this is a bad idea," Chris said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Franco's jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he just looked at her, his expression unreadable.

After a long pause, he stood up and grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on. "Maybe," he said, his voice flat. "But we both know it's not over."Chris wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that it had to be over-that they couldn't keep doing this. But deep down, she knew he was right. This wasn't over. It was just the beginning.

As Franco left the room, leaving Chris alone with her thoughts, she realized that she was deeper than she had ever intended to be. And no matter how hard she tried to deny it, something had already changed between them.

The question was: how long could they keep pretending it didn't mean anything?

[hirocimacruiser]

JUN R33 Skyline GTR at Bonneville.

JUN Suka did it 375km/h!

49th Bonneville Speed ​​Week

Enjoying the pleasure on the salt was Susumu Koyama, managing director and driver of JUN Auto Mechanics. A new record was a given, and with the goal of beating the 260 miles set six years ago with a 300ZX, he brought his 1,200 horsepower R33 Skyline GT-R, which he started building in May. The fastest challenge on Lake Bonneville, Utah, USA will be held for one week starting August 16th. As expected, the GT-R broke the class record with an average speed of 233.217 miles per hour. Photos&Report/Shogo NAKAO ●Interview cooperation/Travel Alice 06-341-1201

JUN is Bonneville's home run king.

When he first came here in 1990, he failed with a 300ZX, but the following year he used the same machine to hit a bullet liner of 260.809 mph and 419 km/h. In 1993, I brought an R32GT-R, but it rained.

The tournament was canceled due to standing water. Moving to Dry Lake in El Mirage, California, he set a class record of 194.961 mph and 313 km/h on a 2 km straight short course.

The aim this time is F/BGCC class. In the blown gas competition coupe, supercharged gasoline engine category below 3L, the previous record of 219.107mp/h was set by Thunderbird last year. First of all, Managing Director Koyama. The road surface was extremely rough due to the previous week's thunderstorm.

Even though I said, "I won't run straight," I ran 221 miles. Qualify now.

Normally, after this, I would run the 7-mile course in reverse and record the average value of the two runs, but on the evening of August 17th, when I qualified, it rained heavily and the course was closed until the afternoon of the 19th.

The rainwater did not dry up after the 3rd mile mark, making it an unusual record run in the same direction for 223 miles. At this point, I have achieved a class record. ``When I was a sophomore, there wasn't a big bench.

It was estimated that it had 1000 horsepower. This time, we have 1,200 horsepower, so according to calculations we should be able to cover over 260 miles,'' said Mr. Yoshida, the JUN public relations officer, with a red-hot face.

``The car was bouncing around so much,'' he says, so he loaded eight 18-kilogram salt bags into the trunk, for a total of 144 kg, aiming for even more speed.

However, the rain on the 17th did not dry up quickly and there were sloppy and slippery conditions.

Daijiro Inada, who is well-known for OPT magazine, rides the boat and pulls it an average of 233 miles.

On the second and final day, Managing Director Koyama aimed for a homer with the bases loaded by removing the salt bags and using thicker tires and maximum boost pressure, but he could not beat Daijiro.

I ended up spinning around in circles.

The members of JUN looked a little disappointed.

PIC CAPTIONS

The weight of the vehicle is 1500kg. It had been converted from a 4WD to a 2WD, but apparently ``a 4WD would have been better on this road surface.''

Traction was improved by placing 144 kg of salt bags next to the gas tank in the trunk.

A twin-turbo engine with 1200 horsepower measured on the bench. Great, you have a bench.

On the road this time, he was not able to tell how the aerodynamics were compared to the Z.

[deartetsuro]

req - hq characters (kuroo lol) saying 'i know, baby, i know' when babying/comforting yn. ervyabebwyrogbrw

please feel no rush/pressure for this and look after yourself :)

Ok igotchu pookie HWJSHAHAHS cuz I need it too. This one goes out to the girlies who crave academic validation 😋 (me)

Song: Mahal Kape Tayo — EJ Clarks, Tothapi

(this one is cute, it's basically "Love, let's go have some coffee" it's a very nice song comfort song and to just wind down to.)

Tags: hurt/comfort, being rejected from a school you really wanted to get into, still living with ur parents, your parents love him, fussy school systems, established relationship, fluff, lots of feels.

You sit down in front of your laptop in your room excitedly, squirming in your seat in anticipation waiting for the results of your college entrance test for your dream school. You studied really hard for those tests and made sure to maintain your GWA, and participate in extra curriculars so it'd look good in your admission application.

The portal finally loads, and you are prompted to enter your test ID to see if you were qualified for admission into your chosen programs.

Your heart sinks your eyes immediately lock onto the apology in the first line "We regret to inform you that after careful deliberation you have not met the standards set to be qualified for your chosen programs..." Something in you shattered, you did not qualify for even one program? "What...?"

You end up shutting off and closing the laptop before you have a chance to be sad about it, choosing not to process such news just yet. And the rest of the day ends up feeling like a fever dream. Just going through the motions, unwilling to accept what had just happened.

You snap out of your trance when your messages are being spammed by your boyfriend.

Tetsuro: Babe

Tetsuro: Baby

Tetsuro: Love

Tetsuro: I saw the post made by (insert university), and saw that the results just came out. How'd it go?

Tetsuro: I bet you passed for sure. Congratulations🥳

You decide not to beat around the bush and give it to him straight.

You: I didn't get in.

The chat bubble that signifies he's typing goes on and off, and finally stops for a while. Second turn into minutes, and you realize he went offline. (💀)

You wonder why he's taking so long. You lay in your bed moping, no tears yet, stuck between "I wanna break down and cry." and "I wanna do something about it."

Sure, you could send an appeal. But the thing is, the school, and programs you chose was highly competitive. What if you're met with yet another rejection?

After a while there's commotion that stirs outside your window, and you brush it off as your neighbors coming to have a chat with your parents. That is, until you hear your mother call out your name and say "Come outside! My son is here."

You sit in your bed confused, you think, Huh?? Duh, my brother lives with us what are you talking about? I see him all day everyday.

But you reluctantly get up and go see what she's talking about anyway. Upon leaving your room and exiting the house through the front door, you're surprised to see Tetsuro standing there with your parents holding a bouquet of flowers, and paper bags stuffed with goodies in one hand.

"Look *anak, he's been looking for you." Your mom chimes in mischievously, and gives you a shit eating grin, while your father only chuckles as he pats Tetsuro's back and reminds him "No funny business." before they turn around and head out to make a grocery run.

We bid my parents goodbye, then he steps forward and gives you a boyish smile, stretching his free arm out for you. "Hi... Sorry I didn't reply right away, I had to pick some stuff up."

You let out a sigh of relief and hug him "You scared me. Who does that?" He looks at you apologetically, as he wraps his arm around you. "I know, I'm really sorry. I was out to get these, — (motioning to the flowers) — and I wanted to get some extra stuff. Please let me make it up to you."

And you do. You nod into his chest, breaking away from the hug gently to lead him into the house and into the living room. "Sit down Tetsu, I'll get you somethi—" He interrupts, helping himself to our kitchen counter, placing down the flowers and paper bag. "No worries love, I got it. You've had a long day, just kick back and relax."

His words send a wave of warmth throughout your chest, finding comfort in him. You move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you whisper a small thank you into his shirt.

He smiles as he starts working on replacing the old flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. He unwraps the new flowers, and arranges them, albeit a little messily, into the vase. You look over his shoulder, "It looks beautiful Tetsu." He smiles, giving it one last touch before setting it back to it's original spot. "I'm glad you think so." Your eyes follow his form as he goes to wash his hands before reaching into the paper bag to reveal...

"Now how does coffee and ice cream sound?" You can only giggle as he lifts up a whole tub of cookies and cream ice cream, and a jar of my favorite coffee. "That sounds like an amazing idea Tetsuro~"

He pulls a chair for me and he moves on to fix us our mugs of coffee the way we both like it. Setting my mug and a spoon down in front of me, and taking his seat beside me. "Here's your order miss~ And some ice cream, on the house." Rolling my eyes at his playful tone. "Gee thanks Tetsu..." He just chuckles and opens up the ice cream for the two of you as you dig in.

It's sweet really, how he put comfort before confronting the problem, allowing you to process what was going on. Patiently waiting for you to open up to him as to not overwhelm you.

"So... Do you want to talk about it?" There it is, the dreaded question. "About what?" "You know..." You know, and it stings really badly but you decide to play it down. "Tetsuro I'm okay. There are other universities..."

Tetsuro looks at you knowingly, but instead of speaking, he just pulls you into his embrace instead, in his embrace where you felt safe enough to be vulnerable. Through this simple action, he'd allowed you to acknowledge the squeeze in your heart when thinking about the joyous reaction of those accepted into their priority courses.

To feel your frustration, sadness, and even envy, as the weight of your own expectations crash down on you. "I worked so hard for this Tetsuro..." You sob into his chest, grasping at the fabric to anchor yourself. "All those late nights studying for the test, trying to maintain my GWA, all while participating in extra curriculars! I want nothing more than to be able to go there..." You bury yourself into his embrace, and he rubs your back.

"I know baby, I know." He pulls away to cup your cheeks, making eye contact. "I was there baby. I saw you, and I remember very clearly. There were times I had to remind you to sleep because you were up late studying." His eyes soften as he wipes your tears gently with his thumbs.

"Or to remind you to eat because you forgot about lunch while working for a project. Or walking you home because your training for contests didn't ent til 6pm and I didn't want you going home on your own that late."

"The thing is, I know for a fact that you are one of the most hardworking, — and not to mention, loveliest — students out there. So what if some automated university admission program can't see your worth then so what? Things won't always go the way we envision them, but I know you. I see you. And you are able to thrive no matter where you go."

His words were sincere. You could tell from the conviction in his eyes, and you can't help but crack a smile through your tears. "Damnit Tetsuro... I was trying to have an emotional moment just now... You sure know how to cheer me up."

Planting a chaste kiss on his lips, and leaning back into his embrace. "Thank you Tetsuro." The blush that takes over his face doesn't go unnoticed. "You're right. I'll thrive in whatever environment I'm put in. After all, it's the students that make the school. Not the other way around, right?"

"Hah~ you're absolutely correct. That's my girl. I'm always so proud of you. Now how about we finish this ice cream before it melts?" You both share a laugh, before going back to eating your ice cream. The coffee long gone cold, but the warmth he brings to your chest makes up for it.

You were so grateful to have him. Though the situation planted a bitter taste in your mouth, to be loved by him left an overpoweringly sweet aftertaste. Being loved by him is reminiscent of the warmth that meets your lips from drinking a good cup of coffee.

*anak, meaning my child

[Here's a little excerpt from the song that I really like! And the translation hehe]

Wag kang mag-alala, maupo ka lang. Pagtitimpla kita. Mahal kape tayo, ang ating paborito. Ang lasang 'di nagbabago, tamis at init ng pag-ibig ko, para sayo

Don't worry, just sit down, and I'll fix you a cup of coffee. My love, let's get some coffee, our favorite. The taste that doesn't change, the sweetness and warmth of my love for you.

HI MY LOVES I kinda went nuts on this one. HWJFKED sort of self indulgent??? Not beta-read btw. Point out whatever mistakes you see. Anw I was inspired by a post by a college applicant who got rejected by UP despite passing the UPCAT bc apparently her school wasn't well known, hence less credible, and had less graduates than public high schools. Ok bye ILY ALL

[keelt9]

Chapter 11

Masterlist

The fog is heavy but the wind becomes stronger and the sunlight starts to appear clearly between the clouds.

“IT'S FREEZING!” Charlotte screams, rubbing her hands together after letting her bow in the ground. “Hug me!”

She crashed her body against mine taking all the air of me.

This is the third week we have been practicing outdoors, and the weather is the coldest in months, but as everyone knows the first qualification will be in the second week of January, the weather could be worse.

Two hours after Liam and Robert took mercy on us and drove back to the federation with hands cold, feet freezing. As we arrive Charlotte and the youngest boy run inside for something warm, making everyone laugh.

Inside the Christmas decorations were already set, and from time to time a Christmas song played. Our big tree has the classic ornaments, tiny arrows, bows and targets.

“10 minutes and we have some stretching exercises.” Robert announced.

“Y/N, hi…mhm, you have a visitor.” Carol, the receptionist told me as I reached the entrance reader.

“Oh, it must be the reporter.” Liam said. It's the third time we posted this interview for a mismatch of agendas.

“No, is…am, well is in Liam's office.” We look at each other and walk straight there.

In his office, Checo was sitting tapping his feets in the ground, he saw us and pressed his lips together with a smile. 

“Hi.” He raised his hand; Liam and I observed each other perplex.

“You don't have to.” Liam said before greeting him. 

After I opened the door the last time I saw Max, a representative of Red Bull was expecting to talk with him, without realizing helping me to end the conversation. 

I stopped answering his calls, just replied texts, the necessary ones.

“It's ok.” He nodded and said goodbye, unsure about leaving me alone. 

We remain in silence until I talk first. “It's an easier way, huh?” I refer to find myself in the federation.

Checo chuckles. “Violet refused to tell me your address.” 

“Coffee?” Checo shook his head. “Tea? Water? A Red Bull?” He laughs.

“I'm fine thanks, I just came to give you these.” He extends a small envelope. 

I take it and open it, the VIP pass for the paddock Abu Dhabi.

“I’ve known Max for years, he pretends to be fine, and maybe he is, still in the big picture something is off.” I close the envelope. “Two successful GP for him, but I don't know, he is expecting.”

I played with the small stamp. “We broke up, you know that, right?”

I choke my head but he giggles. “I don't intend to be Cupid or anything like that just…it would be nice having you there, at the end of the season.” 

My eyes narrow. “You'll be my <guest.>” He giggles. “He wouldn't know if it makes you feel comfortable, but yeah, you win a lot of hearts in the garage.”

Robert knocked the door and opened, greeting Checo before speaking to me. “Sorry, but we’re about to start Y/N.”

“I have to leave, just thinking about it.” I nodded and walked to the door with him. “Oh! Y/N, believe me, he doesn't know how to give up.”

“The line is a colored red toast.” Matt put an aid band in over my chin. “The struggles of winning.”

I push him, laughing. “What? You are in your best shape, I'm not the only one who said that to you.”

Last week, in the fundraiser tournament I received a lot of praise, good comments and the hopes of success, besides we got huge sponsors and a boost of confidence.

“But we need to rest.” It's our last day before a deserved days off. We won't have Christmas vacation just the important days but with the qualifier just around the corner of New Year, taking days off is a huge risk.

“I owe you an apology.” I choke my head. “I put so much pressure on you in the qualifier, it wasn’t the right thing to do. I’m sorry.” Matt downs his head, I pout, and passes my arm around his waist. 

“I need that, hard to admit but I needed it.” We walked to the exit. “It’s ok. I feel a strange mix between relief but an unpleasant pressure on my chest.” 

He denies with his head. “Where are you going these days?” I told him about my conversation with Checo, and he insisted that I should go, reminding me of my own words. I always support Max, before, now and in the future.

“To Nanny.” He scoffs. 

My grandmother years after my grandfather died found a nice man, Aaron. At her birthday dinner, she told us she will move with Aaron to his house, outside of the town. Aaron is a well-off old man, who built a small empire around milk. Now, the two of them live free of worries in a house far away from everything.

“You mean to isolate yourself.” I punched him in the arm. “Auch. Say hi to Nanny for me, ok?” 

“Got it.” 

Mia keeps throwing clothes at my bag, angry. She’s been like that since I told my family about my break up with Max.

“I can do it myself, God.” Mia rolls her eyes but sits in my bed, grabbing her phone just for seconds later, leaving it aside.

“You’re not like that.” I roll my eyes too, packing the bands. “Y/N, you fight for what you want, this… this… this is shit.” 

“MIA!” She held my stare, a dignified answer from her.

“Lie to you, but you think we don’t realize you lock up in the basement for watching the races late at night or early in the morning, you keep that bright smile in every photo of Max, that you can’t avoid stop put the damn little heart at ever edit or video of him, fine!” She stands and walks to my door.

“You know this won’t be easy and you take it. For Christ sake, you defend this from dad.” Mia is challenging me. “You know what happened? You start to get terrified about how much you love him and that you could do something to hurt each other, but hey…” She takes a deep breath.

“Go on, and keep lying to you!”

Mom appears in the door killing eyes to Mia as she goes to her room and closes it, loudly.

I take a deep breath and mom watches me. “Let it go mom.” I tossed my hair. “Sometimes I even get angry with myself too.”

The sound of the wheels on the gravel where enough for Nanny appears in the door smiling and opening her arms. I let all the invisible weight I had she take it from me.

“Hi, little girl.” She kisses the side of my head. “Strong as always.” I chuckle, and she lets me go because Aaron hugs me too.

After they started their relationship Aaron sees us as the granddaughters he always wanted, spoiling us every chance he can.

“Are you ready to relax?” I laugh but he caresses my face. “It’s all right, you’re pretty far away from everything.” 

Next morning I woke up to the delicious smell of just made coffee. I slept for more than 10 hours and I felt refreshed; when I leaned out of the window only a green field welcomed me, and a stinging memory started to relieve.

Trying to let it pass as a memory, I got down to the kitchen where Nanny is in her classic apron hands at work, doing my favorite dish. “There you are!” 

“Omg, I should keep a diet Nanny.” She takes importance with her hands and winks at me.

“Are you saying no to my french toast?” Since we were kids Nanny always made us french toast. As we grew up, it became my favorite dish because it always reminds me of endearing moments in family.

“Coffee?” Aaron asked me and I nodded. Nanny put the plate in front of me and the mere scent is making me drool.

I cut a piece and prepare to taste it. “You know, days ago I received a strange package. At the beginning I blamed Aaron and his late night shopping but no.” 

This is heaven, I’m melting at the first bite. “You’re improving your mascarpone cream, Nanny. Sorry, I'll listen.”

She put her elbows facing me. “Then I saw the address and I thought it was you.” I raise my eyebrows. “It came from Monza.”

I froze but she smiled at me tenderly. “You know me sweetheart, I called to the number that came in the top of the box, that strangely directed me right to a woman who asked me to wait a couple of minutes for her to link the call to the right number.” 

I look at Aaron who has calming eyes on his face, encouraging me to keep listening.

“After a couple of minutes, a young male voice introduced to me…” Nanny smiles. “And tell me inside is the recipe and a few ingredients that I couldn't find here to prepare my classic french toast.” 

In Monza, Max took me to a special cafe where I swear I ate the best filling of french toast, and I bet him that with the touch of Nanny it would taste like heaven. 

“I thought he was a psycho or something like that.” I laugh seeing her smiling and Aaron rolling his eyes. “I told him that but he introduced himself <properly>.” 

“The asshole who made your amazing granddaughter struggle in already hard times.” I look lethal at Aaron but he raises his hands. “That’s what he said.”

“How he…” Nanny chuckled before answering. 

“Mia told him the address and the way he can come.” I blink and open my eyes so big.

“Wh… What?” Nanny keeps making the french toast. 

“Called like a bartering. I told him if he was dumb the last thing he could do was learn how to properly prepare french toast and the next time don’t burn the kitchen.” 

How could she know?

“They talked for hours!” Aarod stands and picks up his cup of coffee. “The bill for the phone will cost a fortune!” Nanny and I laugh. “He came a week ago, almost set the kitchen on fire but I think he learned something.”

“What am I trying to say darling is, we respect your decision, we do, but hey… It will be nice if you are there.” Nanny carness my head. “Also, no one has to know, like obligatory.”

“A thief of recipes, granddaughter and precious ph…” Nanny threw blueberries to Aaron.

<ONE MORE TIME, MAX VERSTAPPEN IS THE WORLDWIDE CHAMPION OF F1!>

I can see his small bump fist in the air through the screen, and hear the fragments of his radio communications, cursing from happines. When the ceremony ends, all his team cover him in champagne before hugging him and pat his head and back to congratulate him.

“There you are!” Checo sneaks into the garage of Ferrari. Of course he gives me a VIP pass but he’s smart and got a favor from Charles who gladly accepted hosting me, didn't ask any other questions, just agreed.

“I’m sorry for making you take a long flight.” Checo hugged me but I shook my head. 

“It’s all right, I mean…” I raise my hands. “It's a totally different experience.” 

“I think she’s wearing the right color, now.” Charles walks closer to us, pointing at the red cap I’m wearing. 

Checo rolls his eyes. “Ready?” Charles smiled at me softly before we left the Ferrari garage.

I walked through these corridors a lot of times. I learned how it works but this time there was a party in Red Bull Garage, the protagonist, Max Verstappen. He has a huge smile on his face all wet but could care less, Checo walks ahead and hugs him but I can see he whisper something to him, making Max start to search all over the garage with anxiety.

All in their own world but he saw me, running to me. I scoff because he stands in front of me clenching his fist unable to know if hugging me is the right thing to do, I pull him as I put his arm around me; Max shutter for a second until he puts both of his arms around my waist and like always he lifts me from the ground.

“I’m so proud of you.” I whisper to him, hiding my face in his neck. I guess all the people saw us because I heard shouts and claps around us. 

Slowly he puts me on the ground but he grips my hand so I can follow to the back room. I saw Violet who smiled at me and winked at me.

Inside of the room, I see him trembling and hug him one more time. 

“Congrats Champion.” This time it was his turn to hide his face on my neck. “You really think I will miss this?”

He smiles on my neck. “Thank you, thank you for coming.” 

I close my eyes, allowing me to enjoy the moment. “I am already fighting in the first place for being your fan.”

He splits, still grabbing me by my waist. “My grandmother could be a little talkative and you overcome like a champ.” His cheeks turned a soft pink. “Thanks.”

He breathed in slowly. “Sch… Y/N, I…”

“Where have you been?” Christian enters the room, happiness screaming from his face. “Your family is looking for you.” 

I take a step back for Christian hugs Max one more time.

“I'll be there in a minute. I just…” Max looked at him but I interrupted him.

“Go, I'll have to go anyway.” Both looked at me with incredulity.

“What?” Asking the same question. 

I chuckled. “My coach will kill me, no one knows I'm here and in two days I have to do my training.”

Christian smiles. “One more day Y/N, I bet Max is dying for you to stay here.”

“It's ok, go, you must be celebrating. I have a flight to take.” Thankfully more crew of Red Bull enters looking for them. He couldn't respond just smiling and being dragged for his team, in the middle of screams, and a lot of noise.

Max turns around several times, the last thing I want him to have from me before going to celebrate is teary me, so I keep smiling all the time, a honest smile about how happy I'm from him.

“If you need anything let me know, all right?” Checo hugged me and gave me a new T-shirt, mine clearly wet. “Have a safe flight.”

I looked down at the shirt, of course, it’s Max’s T-shirt.

Violet makes me jump standing next to me. “Thank you.” She gave me a polaroid. “He was acting… odd, and swore you won't come but…” Her voice cuts. 

“I'll support him, always.” I sighed. “I have to go, thank you so much for everything Violet.”

She hugs me tighter. “Can I help you with something else?”

I shake my head. “Go, you must be celebrating too.”

I walked back slowly through the garages, like a goodbye, standing next to the track where a few people from each team stood there.

“I guess it's goodbye?” Alexandra said, walking closer to me. “Are you ok?”

I noticed the knot on my throat and tears accumulating in my eyes. 

“I left more than I thought with him.” Alexandra grabs my hand. “Thank you so much for not leaving me alone.” 

I see the polaroid in my hand. “Do you need something?” I wipe the tears and look at her, and notice Leo in her arms.

“No, I'll be fine, right Leo?” She smiles but her eyes focus on something at my back.

“I reached you, a hundred people working here and…whatever.” A breathless Charles. “A car is waiting for you to take you to the airport and then a jet will take you home.” Charles said petting Leo.

“Oh, no please, I don't want to cause you trouble.” Both of them smile.

“Carlos will take us home.” Charles hugs me. “I'm sorry I can't do more.”

That was enough for me to cry, until Leo licked my hand.

“Oh god I hate to cry.” All giggle. “I'd better go before my eyes turn more fluffy.”

“Don't forget to send us the tickets for the competition.” Alexandra smiles at me; she already mentioned their intention to go to the qualifiers.

“You don't have to, I mean I understand…” Charles grabs her hand.

“Are you joking? Taking him out, we are your number 1 fans.” I laugh. “Call us when you're at home, ok?” 

I nod and give them a kiss for goodbye.

“Yeah, she looks better in red.” Alexandra jokes as I patt Leo, before walking away.

“We're talking seriously about the tickets!” Charles screamed before I disappeared, this time breathing out slowly like if I just shot an important arrow, hoping I hit the right spot.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

One more to go… 🥺 

I’ll probably do a small poll, but I happily read you if you have a suggestion. I have something in mind too.

[desperate-daydream]

🏐 Haikyuu

❀ Aone Takanobu x (trans) male reader ⚣︎

A/N: gods, I just love side characters. tbh, I’m mostly just projecting myself and my imaginations on that (but which writer didn't do that at least once) XD

tags/warnings: reader is tanaka’s brother (could also be adopted) & a dancer, set in season 2 episode 19, Miyagi Spring Qualifier Quarterfinals (at least that's what fandom wiki says, I hope that it's right)

Hey, lovebirds

It was a match from the Miyagi Spring Qualifier Quarterfinals - Aoba Johsai and Date Tech were playing - and the second set with a two-point-lead by Seijou. The third-grades of Date Tech just came running on the bleachers. 

“What’s the score?” They arrived at the rail and looked down at the still ongoing game. “Oh damn. Who won the first set?” 

“Ehm”, a voice came from behind them. It was the captain of Karasuno with his whole team. “Seijo won the first one.” 

“What, Karasuno?!”, Moniwa said, “Oh, hello. Good to see you.” They greeted each other and of course, Sasaya immediately had to restrain the former vice Kamasaki. That’s when they were noticed by other members of their school that they joined. 

The game went on with the third-grades as well as Karasuno tensely watching. After a few other points another person came running on the bleachers and immediately towards the rails to look at the score. 

Tanaka saw who it was and looked behind him to see his sister calmly stroll towards them. 

“Hey!” When you heard his voice you immediately turned around and faced him. 

“Oh, hey Ryu”, you grinned when you saw your brother sitting there with his usual attitude and rebellious grin. He informed you about the winner of the first set and then noticed the questioning looks of his teammates except for a few of them - especially Noya who had met you several times before already because of their friendship.

“Ugh, guys, this is my brother, (Y/N).” 

You chuckled, “Hi, nice to meet you. Is it so bothersome to introduce me?” The question was directed at your brother. 

“Huh, yeah, yeah, actually it is”, he answered grinning. It was usual for you two to bug each other like that. That’s also when your older sister Saeko arrived. “Oh, come on boys!” She tried to throw her arm around you to get you in her side-clasps but you were already trained and easily ducked away. 

Fortunately for you, the third-graders of Date saw and waved at you so you could scurry to them.

“Why have we never seen him at games before?”, Yamaguchi asked curiously. 

“Because he also has training most of the time.” 

“Oh, does he play volleyball too?”, Hinata spoke excitedly. You weren’t really tall, just like him, so he was really interested if you were a player as well. But Ryu and Saeko laughed a little. 

“Nah, look at his bag”, Ryu pointed at you standing next to Moniwa at the rails. It was a sports bag and shoes were hanging on the side of it. Which was noticeable is that it wasn’t only one pair but three different ones - two of which most of the boys haven’t seen anything about before. “He’s a dancer.” 

“Ahhhh”

“Ok, but why is he standing here now and talking to Date’s former captain?”

Now Tanaka began to scowl and Sakeo chuckled as she sat down. “Because Aone is his boyfriend”, the young woman answered. 

Many of their glances quickly went from you to the mentioned player and back again. “Reallyyyy?!”, Hinata was wide eyed looking down at the middle blocker before grinning, “Cooool!”

Daichi and Suga chuckled when they saw Ryu’s expression. “Why are you scowling?”, Daichi asked while still grinning. “Do you not like Aone?”, Suga continued. 

“He’s super protective of (Y/N)!” Noya saw his chance and took it. 

“Aone is.. alright, I guess”, Tanaka mumbled. The others kept on bugging him a bit but quickly turned back to the game that will decide who would be their next opponent. 

Meanwhile you were standing on the rail and watching closely while occasionally cheering your boyfriend on. He had noticed you already and you could’ve sworn that he had smiled a little bit. 

The game was really exciting and in the end Seijou won. You saw the third years’ shoulders slump down and them letting their heads hang. You sighed and let your head hang too. 

When Date’s team quickly came to stand in front of the bleachers you made eye contact with Taka giving him a comforting smile. Then you signaled him to meet you outside in the halls. You turned around to go meet him. But before you went down you shortly hugged your sister and gave your brother a light slap on the head - which he tried to return but you could duck away - to say goodbye for the day. You’d be driving back in Date Tech’s team bus and staying at Aone’s for the night. 

You went towards each other and let the others go past you both before you hugged him tightly. “You okay?”, you looked up at him with your arms still around each other and let your chin rest on his chest. The height difference between you two was kinda funny.

He gave you a little nod but he was still wearing that sad frown. 

“You were great.” This made a soft look appear in his eyes that possibly only you came to see and know what it meant. 

“Hey, lovebirds”, you heard Futakuchi shouting, “Come on, you can make out later. We’re gonna go to the bus now.” Aone’s team mates laughed. You stuck out your tongue towards them but let go of your boyfriend. 

While you went to follow the team Takanobou linked your pinkies like he often did when you walked together. 

On the bus you sat next to each other and Aone let his head rest on yours that you had placed on his shoulder. You took his hand intertwining your fingers and rested on your lap. The bus was rather quiet - exhaustion and sadness because of the lost game were the primary feelings. Your boyfriend let out another sigh. 

“Hey, Taka?”, you whispered with your eyes closed. You felt the rumble from his body as he let out a low “Mh?”.

“You’re free from training tomorrow, right?”

“Mhm.” 

“You wanna go somewhere then? I also got nothing tomorrow.”

“Mhm. Decide tomorrow?”, his voice was so low it send a wave of goosebumps over your skin. 

“Mhm.” You felt yourself doze off - your training and the excitement to make it to the game had taken a lot of energy from you too. Soon everyone except for the adults was sleeping. 

When you arrived your boyfriend shook you awake gently. 

“Hey, (Y/N)”, his voice was still hushed and even a little deeper than earlier. 

On the way to his mom’s car, who was so nice to pick you both up from school, your arm found his place around his middle while he placed his on your shoulders. 

After eating you both went upstairs to his room to get ready for bed. Aone laid down on top of his blankets and got out his phone while you still searched through his closet for one of his hoodies. You quickly changed into it after finally finding what you searched for and flopped down on top of your boyfriend. 

“Oof”, he played as if you were heavy enough to crush his brick of a body in any way. 

You chuckled and kissed his cheek. A smile that only you got to see appeared on his lips. 

His hand went to cup your cheek to pull you closer and kiss you properly. You sighed happily and let yourself fall into the kiss. 

After you parted, you snuggled close to him and placed your head in the crook of his neck. That way you fell asleep like many times before already.

[springdandelixn]

I'm sooo excited you're taking requests, love! 🖤

This Jonathan Pine gif just makes me feral...

so, maybe reader has done something stupid on a mission and now she's in a greater danger. Can be as dark/smutty (or both 😏) as you feel it. I hope this works for you and there's absolutely 0 pressure (;

Radio Silence

Summary: Your mission to capture Jonathan Pine goes sideways in the most unexpected way.

Warnings: implied noncon, kidnapping, gunplay, bondage & death threats. There may be more but be aware that this is a dark fic. Read at your own discretion.

Characters: Jonathan Pine x Agent!Reader

A/N: This fic was pretty much inspired by watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Thank you, @coldnique for this request though I do apologize if it's a bit sloppy. It's Monday again.

Your feedback is highly appreciated and encouraged. Reblogs would be really amazing. Enjoy! ❤️

“I got eyes on the target.”

“Remember, don’t spook him or we will lose him again,” Hank calls through the earpiece.

“Copy that.” You say with finality before fixing your scarf to tuck your chin deep within the wool. You shove your hands in the pockets of your coat and reel into the act of a shivering civilian before looking both ways and crossing the street, heading towards the building your mark entered.

For three long years, the British Intelligence has been hunting down Jonathan Pine after going rogue and started causing havoc by selling sensitive information to interested buyers across the globe. You worked closely on the case, tracking him down and going after every lead that presented itself. But each time you think you’re a step closer to catching him, the trail quickly goes cold and you’re once more back on the drawing board.

Until one day, when an anonymous tip came of Jonathan resurfacing, that he was spotted on several occasions in a small neighborhood in Brooklyn, Hank immediately had you shipped off to New York in hopes of finally bringing him in. 

You’re the most qualified for the job, Hank told you when you asked why you were going in alone and you didn’t doubt his judgment for you believed it to be true. With Jonathan gone, you were the top agent of the organization, and you’ve proven countless times your credibility in bringing down some of the most dangerous beings on the planet. But you know that wasn’t the sole reason he chose you, rather the fact that you were once mentored by the rogue agent himself. 

For years, you’ve worked closely alongside him, digesting every fact and feat he would demonstrate in order for you to do your work the best that you can. All the skills he possessed were passed on that you were ranked second to him. And it secretly brought a smile to your face and had you feeling slightly cocky and confident, how the irony that his own pupil would be the one to turn him in and bring him to justice. 

It still pained you though, that it had to come to this point in your career. How much you pitied your former mentor that he’s chosen to use his expertise to harm instead of continuing to protect the greater good. Either way, you won’t let your sentiments muddle your judgment. He’s done bad things and it’s your job to stop him no matter what it takes.

Leaning against the concrete wall of the building—a library, you wait a few seconds before walking in. You pat your hip through your coat pocket, making sure that your weapon is within reach. You didn’t see them upon arriving at the borough yet you’re confident that backup has been prepared and is on the ready in case the situation gets hairy. 

It’s not as crowded as you expected as you walk towards the shelves of books and you don’t quite know if you should see it as a positive; giving you more visual of your surroundings, or a negative; making it slightly harder to blend in, making it easy for Joanthan to recognize you amongst the civilians. But you keep your composure, making the best of the situation and remain at the sidelines, running a hand through the spines of the hardcover while looking for a spot for you to wait. 

With vigilant eyes and light feet, you peruse every aisle, keeping up the act of a college student looking for resource materials. You grab a random book from its hold and flip it open, opting to take a seat on one of the singular armchairs at the corner of the library that give you a good view of the exit as well as the round help desk at the center of the vicinity.

You whisper an update through your comms but frown when faint static plays into your ears before going radio silent on the other end. You repeat your words, hoping for any response of acknowledgment but still get none. The building must be interfering with the frequency, you think, but don’t dwell too much on the fact, choosing to focus instead on the task at hand. 

People pass by in front of you and give extra attention to each dark blond you see. Yet some minutes pass and you can’t help the groan of frustration you breathe out when he’s still yet to be seen. He couldn’t have gotten far, and he wouldn’t think of using any back exits for you’re positive he hasn’t picked up your scent. Still, you remain seated and discard the thought of searching the entire library. You keep your senses on high alert for any telltale signs of his presence while flipping through the pages of the book on your lap. 

“I’m terribly sorry.” You know that voice. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Your head snaps to the side, your heart rate spiking when you see him by the entrance with a book in his hand which he hands to the elderly woman clutching a cane standing in front of him. You take note of his appearance; a grey hoodie hidden underneath a leather jacket. You scoff in amusement when you see no effort into hiding his face. Rookie mistake.

As soon as his interaction with the woman ends, you stand from your seat and casually return the book to the shelf. You feign choosing a new read, counting down to ten before slowly making your way out of the building when he finally leaves.

“He’s on foot. I’m tailing him.” You call into your comms yet still, the line remains silent. 

You maintain your distance while keeping your eyes locked on the back of his head and follow him down the street. You’re positive that he’s heading back to where he’s been holing up, leading you right to him. The image of him taken by shock burns into your mind and you can’t help but smile once he realizes it’s you that’s cornered him like a rat. 

Blood pumps into your ears as your body sings with excitement, keeping your pursuit and grinning when he turns into an alley. Like a rat. You echo in your head and immediately reach for your weapon as you sprint down the path. Once you reach the corner, you keep to the crowd and take a deep breath before pushing into the alley.

You stand stunned in confusion when nothing but an empty backstreet greets you. You don’t understand, you just saw him come in here and yet there are no signs that giveaway any soul coming by. The wired fence up ahead is too tall to scale up fast, the fire escape ladders remain untouched. You jiggle the handle of a lone door at the side of the brick wall but it’s locked and you’re certain he wouldn’t have jimmied it open for you would have, for sure, caught him in the act. 

You tuck your gun back into your holster and huff out a breath as the thought that he’s once more slipped from your grasp fills you. This can’t be! You almost had him! And yet, you are once more met with a dead end, one you don’t understand how it came to be. 

Defeated, you decide to regroup back at your hideout to figure out the next steps to catching him. He couldn’t have gotten far and if you call for the local police force to cord out Brooklyn, it’s no question that he’d be apprehended just in time. 

All of a sudden, you gasp in surprise when an arm wraps tightly around your neck from behind, a solid surface pressed against your back as you struggle to set yourself free from your assailant. Your hands grab the arm that entraps you when it tightens further, the muscle digging into your throat, preventing you from making a sound.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?” The deep baritone that fills your ears is all too familiar. No! 

A stinging pain then blooms at the back of your neck, your breath hitching as you feel a cool, alien liquid quickly run through your veins. You’re then released, a hand pressing at your back and shoving you forward, making you drop down to your knees before you could even catch yourself. 

Your breathing is suddenly labored, your skin tingling and body growing heavy that you slump face first onto the dirtied concrete floor. You fight to push yourself up except a hand grabs you by the shoulder and you’re flipped onto your back, your head cracking against the pavement. A pained groan slithers from your lips and when you open your eyes, your vision is skewed. What’s happening to me? You want to voice out but your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. 

Jonathan’s face comes into view, a wicked grin playing on his lips. You try to stand but it’s no use. Your body feels so heavy that you don’t think you can even move. He says your name, once, twice, you don’t know. Then his face blurs, mixing with the colors of the alley and the stone walls that surround you, his deep chuckle the last thing you hear before the darkness swallows you whole. 

-

Your mind feels all too convoluted when you open your eyes, blinking several times before the world gradually comes into clarity. It’s like you wrestled with a bear with how your body aches, feeling it deep within your bones, making you groan. You try to move, to get off the soft surface you’re laid on but panic quickly runs through your veins when the realization that you’re naked, wrists bound together dawns on you. 

Looking around frantically, you try to take in your surroundings, assessing the situation you were thrust into. You’re on a bed, plain sheets rumpled atop with a lone pillow hanging by the edge. The room is bare of any furniture leave for the singular bedside table with a lamp emanating a muted yellow hue and a singular table at the far end corner. Although, what you notice next makes the hair on your skin stand in fear, the lone dark figure sitting by the desk, a light tapping coming from its direction. 

You’re certain that your captor is Jonathan, that despite your disorientation, he’s the last person you saw before you blacked out. You blink as you fight to steady your vision, your throat tightening as the fear that once took over your senses is replaced by anger. He stands and you groan as you tug on your restraints, bending your knees as you prepare yourself to fight back. 

“What did you do to me?!” You snarl, swiping your legs immediately when he comes closer. “Let me go, you psycho!” Another groan pulls free from your lips when the restraints dig deep into your skin. “I’m going to kill you once I’m free! And I don’t give a fuck about what Hank says!”

A deep chuckle echoes through the room and you narrow your eyes, baring your teeth when his face comes into view. “I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon, sweetheart.” He scoffs, a grin of amusement playing on his lips before he leans closer. He reaches over to caress your cheek and you quickly snap your teeth at him, barely missing his fingers when he retracts his hand. “Ohh, you’ve certainly gotten tougher since we last saw each other.”

“Better too!” You snipe and thrash against the bed when he nears you once more. “Hank knows where I am, Pine! And once backup comes, you’ll be sorry you ever—”

“Backup?” The mirth in his voice takes you aback, trepidation lacing your nerves as the grin on his face broadens. “You think backup is coming?” He emits a sinister laugh, something you didn’t expect. In an instant, a thought clicks into your head, that something has gone terribly wrong and you’re to receive the brunt of it. 

His shadow leaves you as he strides back to the table he previously occupied, a patch of light illuminating his face in the darkness that shrouds him. The smile is ever-present on his face, a sickening sight and you hear him punch through the plastic keys of the device. A beep interrupts the silence, tension thickening in the air, and once more, he walks back to you, your eyes following his hand, staring down at the flip phone that he places on top of your chest. 

“We got the drive, Pine.” Your blood turns cold when you hear Hank’s voice in the recording. And you don’t understand why he’s calling a fugitive. “We sent her alone so you don’t have to worry about running into trouble. Though we do expect you to uphold your end of the bargain and we will keep ours.” Your ears pique at the words your boss utters. What bargain? What does he mean by all this? “Both your files will be eradicated from the system and you shall never be bothered again.”

That can’t be! This is all a lie! It has to be! 

“Oh but it isn’t a lie.” Jonathan chuckles, plucking the burner phone from your sternum, his response making you realize that you’ve voiced your thoughts out loud. “What you just heard is the cold hard truth. This whole,” he pauses, waving his hand animatedly in the air before he continues. “..operation of yours was a setup. You weren’t sent to capture me. You were simply sent as a means to an end.”

“What are you saying?! That the British Intelligence sold me for your cooperation?!” You spit, gritting your teeth in rage and disbelief, tears welling in your eyes. “They’d be fucking stupid to trust you!”

“Oh, I know. That’s why it was so easy to manipulate them.” The snap of the phone catches you by surprise, seeing the device drop to the floor, broken in half. “But it’ll be too late once they realize that they’ve made a grave mistake.” His cockiness bleeds into his words and you feel even more afraid of what he’s truly capable of. “In the end, they think they got what they wanted and I got mine.”

“Me?” You ask in disbelief and he simply laughs. “Why me?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, your body going rigid when he comes closer. “I have wanted to break you since you walked that ass of yours into the briefing room.” The bed dips from his weight when he climbs atop it. You kick your legs when he grabs them, wince when his fingers dig painfully into your flesh, your legs going slack and easily allowing him to wrap them around his waist.

Your body shivers when he presses a hand against your abdomen, fingers tickling your skin as he trails them up your torso and cups the underside of your breast. You cringe at the sight of his face, how his teeth catch his bottom lip and his sapphire eyes turn a shade darker when he gives your tit a rough squeeze. 

You turn your head away when he leans closer, whimpering at how he buries his nose in the crook of your neck and deeply inhales your scent. 

Tears slowly fall down your face as you gravity of the situation finally sinks in. You were sold, like a slave by the man you trusted with your life. You don’t understand why they would do this to you, why they would throw you in abandon. You did your best in every mission thrown at you, abiding by the rules and following the law, always giving your all. Even if that meant you had to exchange your life for the safety of masses. 

But now, with how everything is crumbling right before your eyes, you start to think if everything you once believed in, about Hank, the organization, was a lie. 

Your breath hitches when Jonathan bucks his hips against yours, the tent growing in his pants pressing roughly against your bare cunt. You cringe, disgust rolling deep in your belly, that he would have such lascivious desires towards you. He growls, his clothed pelvis rubbing further against your clit that you bite your tongue to fight a moan from escaping, cursing your anatomy and how it responds despite your internal protests.

“You don’t have to be shy around me, sweetheart.” He drawls, pulling away from your neck while his hand runs down to your side, stopping at your hip only to grab it and press you down against his erection. “See what you do to me? I had to hold myself back every time when we would wrestle around.” A salacious hum spills from his lips, a smirk forming on his face that is only inches away.

You scowl at him, eyes burning with rage. You push your head back as he attempts to close the distance, but before he could even succeed, you gather up that saliva in your mouth and spit at his face, your nostrils flaring and a smile kissing your face when he wipes his face and looks back at you with equal fury.

“You shouldn’t have done that, sweetheart.” He sneers, anger evident on his face yet you don’t let it deter you from your plans to escape. You just have to catch him off guard and you’ll have the upper hand, his training slowly filling your head. 

He moves to sit up from the bed but you stop him from doing so, locking your legs around his waist tight and groaning loudly as you lean all your weight to the side to topple him over. The loud thud has you grinning in glee, making you pull your leg back to prepare for your next attack. Yet, before you could even launch your foot to kick him, a hand grabs you by the ankle, Jonathan towering over you once again and you freeze on the bed, eyes wide as your breath catching in your throat when the muzzle of a gun is pressed between your eyes. 

“After years of working together, I’d expected you to know me better.” He tuts, cheek twitching when he pulls his thumb back and releases the safety. “I must say, I’m very disappointed in you.”

“You and me both, asshole.” You hiss.

“You know, I could simply kill you and no one will ever care that you’re dead.”

“Then do it!” The wrath in you bursts in flames and you lean forward, having the metal cylinder press harder against your forehead. “Fucking kill me, you coward!”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I will.” He chuckles darkly. “But not now. Not when I haven’t even had my fun.” 

It’s as if the anger in him dissipates as a sinister smile forms on his face. You shiver when he slowly slides the gun down your cheek, digging it on your chin before running it down the valley of your breasts. He stops at your stomach when he kneels back on the bed, your eyes following the movement of the firearm. You inhale sharply, feeling your heart pound against your chest when he rests the gun against your cunt, rolling the muzzle slowly around your clit. 

You whimper when your body sings in fear, Jonathan adding pressure on your clit as he keeps his torturous act. Then he pulls the gun away, a soft sigh of relief leaving your lips but is soon replaced by a strangled cry when he angles it against your core and pushes the barrel past your folds. 

Your thighs squirm at the sudden intrusion, your pussy walls clamping down on the dangerous weapon on instinct. You try to kick him away but he only pushes the barrel deeper into you, making you halt all your limbs go stiff in fear that he would pull the trigger. 

“Good girl. Stay still.” He mocks praise, pulling back the gun from your cunt only to push it once again, whimpering in horror as he fucks you with it. “I wouldn’t want to ruin this beautiful pussy. At least—not yet.”  

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