#he wasn't the best driver no. but he wasn't bad. he was dragging the car up to p11 p12 and all. that is basically impossible currently

[strawberriesinmoominvalley]

and the thing is i'm not saying logan was the best driver or anything. but i think, and maybe i'm being too sensitive, that the way logan was treated was absolutely horrible and should never happen again

[woso-dreamzzz]

Difficult VI

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: You're a racing star

Ingrid can remember it like it was yesterday.

It wasn't the best race she'd watched, not with you crashing out from third position on the first lap, not when you'd fallen from your bike and rolled on the floor for a bit.

But then you'd gotten up again and you'd gotten back onto your bike and sped off to catch the pack.

It'd been a brutal battle for you to make up the places you lost and then from last you were second, closing in on first around the second to last corner.

Ingrid can remember the commentators when she watched the race back.

"And...Oh my god, Redbull's Rookie sweep pasts her championship rival! From last to first at the first Barcelona MotoGP race, it's the home favourite! The Norwegian raised in Barcelona, the Rookie in her first year! Y/n Engen-León crosses the line! Her first win! One of many I think!"

Ingrid can remember it all so clearly as you parked your bike, took off your helmet and ran at her, sobbing into her shoulder.

It was your first year in MotoGP. It was your first race win too and you sobbed like that little girl who once watched Ingrid lift the Champion's League trophy.

And, now, you're here.

"I'm Max Verstappen, former Formula One driver."

"And I'm Y/n Engen-León, current MotoGP champion and I'm going to be trading in my motorbike for a Formula One car."

You'd been a Redbull girl since your very first race at the tender age of five. It had been on one of the dirt tracks in Mapi's hometown and a Redbull representative had come up to you all at the end of the race to discuss your potential.

From there, you'd grown up driving for Redbull. You'd driven for them in Motocross and then now in MotoGP too.

You were more than happy to drag Ingrid and Mapi along to your interviews and opportunities.

But Ingrid has to admit to some degree of fear seeing you in Max Verstappen's old championship winning car.

It had taken years for Ingrid to get used to you on a bike and while a car is meant to be safer, that fear increases tenfold as she watches you mess around with the steering wheel and test out the pedals.

"I like this," You say to the camera before turning to your parents," Mumma, Mami, check this out."

Always eager, Mapi practically prances forward to look at where you're pointing. Ingrid follows a little more slowly, a tense smile on her face.

"It'll be fine, Mumma," You say, reaching out to take her hand," I'll be okay. I was made for this kind of thing."

As Ingrid watches you peal onto the track, she can't help but think that you're kind of right. You've adored all types of racing since you were tiny, the little daredevil that you were.

It was just luck that Mapi's father got you a bike instead of a kart or else you would have ended up in one of these cars rather than your bike.

You had a need for speed and a racer's disregard for speeding laws.

You took to all forms of racing as you turn through a corner neatly and cross the line.

"Woo!" You say, pumping your fist as you step out," That was good. Was it good?"

Max Verstappen looks up from the data, nodding. "Two seconds off the reference lap."

You grin. "Not so bad for my first time, huh?"

He purses his laps, eyes studying you. "I think you could do better."

Your grin stretches into a smirk. "I know I could do better."

You do lap after lap after lap until your barely one-hundredth of a second off your reference lap.

Ingrid knows, in theory, that Formula One racing is different to your racing but you make it look so easy. You look like you've been racing cars your entire life.

"Look at her," Mapi says in awe," Look! Look!"

Your last lap is your best, one tenth faster than the reference and you're grinning like you've just won your home race again.

Your fists pump up as you jump from the car, pulling off your helmet.

"Did you see? Mumma, Mami? Did you see?"

"I got a video!" Mapi says," I'll send it to your Abuelo, he'll be so excited to see this!"

After your drive in the car, you end up in another interview with Verstappen.

You've become quite the star in your racing series and the team are really trying to capitalise on it.

"Yeah, I mean," Ingrid catches you saying," I've been racing since I was little. My Abuelo got me my first bike when I was still young and we had to hide it from my Mumma for months because she didn't approve."

Ingrid can still remember seeing you on your first bike. She can still remember thinking that it was surprising they made ones that small. She can still remember your racing suit and your helmet and the joy you got out of something simple as going up and down the bumps of the dirt track.

"I don't think I can even explain what I felt when I won in my rookie year. It means so much to me and my parents had to sacrifice a lot to help me on my journey. I didn't have quite as much success in Motocross as I'm having in MotoGP right now. I know my Mumma would prefer if I chose a safer sport but I think that's why I try so hard. I want to prove to her that despite all these injuries and despite all the danger, she did a good thing in letting me keep racing. I could have driven under Spain's flag if I wanted but Mumma's Norwegian and I'm Norwegian and I want to make her proud."

Something in Ingrid breaks then and she turns her head into Mapi's neck, tears falling from her eyes as she tries not to sob out loud.

Of course she's proud of you. She's so proud of you. She'll always be proud of you.

With or without a championship.

"And of course, my Mami and her family are the ones that got me into racing. Her father used to be my mechanic when I was a kid and Mami was always signing me up for races and supporting me when I got hurt. She designs all my helmets. I think my first win at Barcelona was really the culmination of all the hard work she put into me and my racing."

Verstappen nods along with you. "Would you say that your mothers are your biggest supporters?"

You grin. "Definitely."

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Eleven - Mwuah

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.3K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

"Mr Ricciardo," said Milo as he tugged on the bottom of Daniels shorts, trying to get his attention. "Mr Ricciardooooo!"

Daniel hadn't stopped staring at Milos Momma. She was dressed in his AlphaTauri shirt again, speaking animatedly with Laurent Mekies. He wore heart eyes, whether he realised it or not.

Again, Milo tugged on his shorts, gaining his attention. "What can I do for you, Milo?" He asked as he crouched down, meeting his height.

Milo looked behind him, looking at his car. "Can I drive it?" He asked, somewhat timidly.

Daniel didn't laugh at him. He wore a kind smile as he stood up straight and held his hand. "You can't drive it, buddy. But, if your Momma says it's okay, I might be able to let you sit in it?" He proposed.

Immediately Daniel began tugging him towards his mother, calling for her. But Y/N was in conversation. Unless something bad was happening, she wasn't turning around. "I think somebody wants you," said Laurent as he let her turn around.

Y/N sent him an apologetic smile and turned around. There Milo was, holding Daniels hand. She looked around for Olivia, who was sitting in the corner, on her iPad. "What do you boys want?" She asked, her voice teasing.

"Momma, can I sat in Mr Ricciardos car?" Milo asked quickly.

"Did Mr Ricciardo say its okay?" She asked, looking up at Daniel through her eyelashes.

It wasn't supposed to be sexy, Daniel knew that. But seeing her dressed in his AlphaTauri shirt, looking up at him like that, he couldn't help it. She was so damn pretty, so damn alluring.

"It's fine with me," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Then it's fine by me."

She watched as Milo dragged Daniel back over to his car. Daniel picked him up and lowered him into the Formula One car. Immediately Milo reached for the steering wheel, which wasn't there. His mother pulled out her phone as she snapped pictures of him pretending to drive. He moved his arms and hands like he was steering and moved his feet like he was pushing pedals. Daniel leaned against the halo, telling Milo where to turn. He didn't use left and right to direct him, instead telling him to drive towards his Momma, towards Olivia, keep going straight - push! Push! Push!

Y/N looked away from her son and Daniel. She loved it, loved how he was with him. But her eyes locked onto Olivia, who was no longer playing on her iPad. The iPad was in her lap as she glared at Milo and her father.

She pocketed her phone and walked around the car, walking over to Olivia. "Hey," she said as she sat beside her. "Whatcha doing?"

But Olivia was still glaring. Y/N gently nudged her shoulder. "You know, if you asked your daddy if you could have the next go, I'm sure he'd say yes," she said.

Olivia set out a sigh as she let her gaze fall to the floor, visibly upset. "Oh Livvy, what's the matter?" She asked as she grabbed a hold of the iPad, stopping it from sliding to the floor.

"Daddy looks like Milo's daddy," she said quietly.

"Oh, Livvy," Y/N said sympathetically. Somehow she understood what Olivia was saying. That they, Daniel, Milo and Y/N, looked like one happy family, one she wasn't a part of.

Standing from her chair, Y/N offered Olivia her hand. She took it and, together, the girls walked over to the car. Olivia squeezed her hand and looked up at her as they walked. When they got to the car, Y/N scooped Olivia up and placed her on her hip. "Daniel, somebody has something they wanna ask you," she said, turning Olivia towards her father.

Daniel looked away from Milo. "What is it, Badger?" He asked softly as he took Olivia from Y/N.

While they walked, Y/N lifted Milo out of the car. "Come here, munchkin," she said and stepped away, letting Daniel and Olivia have their moment. Before she knew it Olivia was sat in the car, pretending to drive it just the way Milo was.

***

The AlphaTauri car was doing exceptionally well, considering it was an AlphaTauri car. At first Daniel was just fighting for points, but now he was fighting for the podium. "Go, daddy, go!" Olivia shouted as she watched, squeezing Y/N's hand.

Somebody's car had stopped working and two had crashed into each other, taking each other out of the race. That left just seventeen cars in the race.

This was going to be Daniels highest points finish since he was put back into the AlphaTauri car. Olivia couldn't wait to see him on the podium again.

But Daniel wasn't on the podium, not this time. He couldn't get in front of the Ferrari car that took third, leaving him finishing p4.

He was still happy though. As soon as he could he was pulling his helmet off and running over to Olivia. He didn't care how sweaty he was as he pulled her into his arms. "Yay, daddy!" She cried, wrapping her arms around her neck.

"Mr Ricciardo!" Daniel shouted as he attached himself to his leg.

But Daniel put both of the kids down. They stepped back, watching with wide, curious eyes as Daniel walked towards Y/N. His gloved hands reached towards her, settling on her waist and pulling her close.

"Congratulations, Danny," she whispered and reached up to kiss his cheek.

But that wasn't good enough for Daniel. He tightened his hold on her and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

There were probably cameras on them, Daniel realised. They were in the middle of the AlphaTauri garage, the moment not very private. But he didn't care. The whole world might've been watching, but he didn't care.

Milo and Olivia watched. This wasn't meant to happen. Their parent's weren't meant to start... kissing. "Daddy, stop it!" Olivia called, but Daniel didn't hear it.

He pulled away from Y/N and rested his forehead against her own. But neither of them could say anything, not before Milo began calling for his momma.

"What is it, Munchkin?" She asked, turning away from Daniel.

Milo scrambled around for an excuse. "I... need to go to the bathroom, momma," he said, reaching for her hand. Y/N shot Daniel an apologetic look and took Milo off to the bathroom.

As she did, Daniel grabbed a hold of Olivia. "Come on," he said softly and walked her to his drivers room. Olivia sat on the white sofa as Daniel stepped out of his racing suit. She kicked her legs, playing on her iPad as her father got changed.

"Daddy," Olivia said slowly as Daniel put his hat back onto his head. "Is Miss L/N gonna be my new momma?" She asked innocently, looking away from her iPad.

Daniel took the iPad from her and placed it into his bag. "Badger," he began as he picked her up and placed her on his hip. "Badger no. She's not gonna be your new momma."

"Then why were you kissing her?"

It was delicate, something Daniel didn't know how to explain to Olivia. "Look, Livvy. I like Milo's momma, but things take time, okay. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell your mum just yet."

"So, it's a secret?"

"Yeah, jelly bean. A secret I'll tell your mum when everybody's ready, okay? Think you can keep that secret for me?"

Olivia pouted and laid her head against Daniels shoulder. "Okay Daddy," she said as he carried her out of the drivers room.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[gguk-n]

Chapter 5- Racing for Love

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N spends her time in Netherland with Max while his girlfriend no where to be seen. They spend Christmas and New Year together. Y/N can't get over Max; maybe it's for the best. Max realised he loves her.

{Reader's POV}

I headed back to the hotel after the race to get dressed and meet up with Max. Every one was going to be celebrating Max's win at the club. All the drivers were also joining, making it the perfect opportunity for us to meet. I was so excited. I wore a navy blue body con midi dress, it made me look and feel hot. I had told Max I'd meet him there, yet he insisted on picking me up. I was almost done getting ready when Max knocked on my door. I opened it to a much cleaner Max. I grabbed my purse and headed out with Max. "Is your girlfriend in the car?" I asked walking along with him. "No" he answered and then we walked in silence to the car. On the way there I asked again, "Is she meeting us there?" "No" he replied shortly. "Why?" I asked again. "She went back home" Max said in a tone that meant he didn't wanna talk about it anymore.

At the party, I had a lot of fun. I got to meet everyone who were very kind, welcoming and funny. They were all shocked that Max had a friend for so long that no one knew about, Charles and Lando included. We laughed, we drank, Max was pretty sober, not having touched a drink since we got there. "Why aren't you drinking?" I slurred having gulped down my previous shot of vodka, I'd lost the count of how much I had to drink since I got handed a glass as soon as one finished. "I drove here, we need to drive back to the hotel" he replied. "OHHHHH, LET'S DANCE" I shouted over the loud music. "You should go, I'm good here." Max replied while preventing Lando from toppling over. I sauntered my way to the dance floor, a guy had made my acquaintance as soon as I started dancing and we were having a lot of fun until, Max came dragging me back to where we were sat. "Max, I'm having fun. Lemme go" I whined trying to pull my hand away from his but drunk me wasn't very strong. "Drink some water and then we're leaving." he stated. "What? But we just got here. Look at all those bottle" I pointed at the bottles behind the bartender, "I need to sample those" I cried. "You can sample the alcohol later. We don't want you to get alcohol poisoning." he said shaking his head. "I have a good tolerance. SEE" I said while finally breaking free from him to try to walk in a straight line only to fail miserably and almost fall. I was only saved by Max's crazy fast reflexes, who caught me at the right moment and carried me over his shoulder back to his car, all the while I was screaming. "PUT ME DOWN....MAXIE.....YOU'RE MAKING ME DIZZY....PLEASE....I THINK I'M GONNA puke" I puked as soon as he put me down next to his car; thankfully having the brain to stop myself from puking all over his expensive car. I brushed the back of my right hand against my lips after puking, "Thank god I didn't puke on your car. haha. I don't think I can afford to clean it" I laughed. He handed me a bottle of water and got me in the car after that. The hang over wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be; maybe because Max got me medicines to help.

I spent the next few days in Zandvoort going to some of the very few places Max was allowed to go and have fun as a kid. We even went go karting. It was a shitty feeling racing against a World Champion since that idiot can't just enjoy the race. He had to make everything a competition. How did he expect me to win when this was the first time I was karting while he did this as a living for many years. We had bet on the fact that the loser had to do whatever the winner wanted; in all my confidence I had said yes, I had forgotten that my opponent was Max Verstappen. Yet, when he won after one pout, Max forgot he's the winner and let me get what I wanted since it was technically cheating since this wasn't his first time and it was mine. So, that's how we ended up watching Barbie at the end of the day. As I wiped away tears, I saw that Max was also wiping away tears. I'm never gonna let him hear the end of this.

The next few days were a blur, I tried to make the best of the situation since I wasn't sure when I would get to meet Max again. I packed up my stuff, a question still lingered on my mind; where the fuck was his girlfriend?. So, I decided to have this conversation in the car where he wouldn't be able to escape me like he did the last few days. Max carried my stuff to his car and loaded it in the car. I sat down on the passenger seat waiting for Max to come. We drove off towards the airport when I said, "Maxie, I haven't seen your girlfriend since the race. I was really looking forward to getting to know her" "Oh, umm" he sighed, "Actually, we broke up" he said while looking straight ahead. "What? Why? Is it because you hugged me first at the race. Fuck, should I apologise?" I rambled. "Schat, nonsense. We hadn't been getting along for a while. I'd been thinking about breaking up with her for a while, it just happened when you were there. It's not your fault" he clarified. My shoulders sank while I waited to get to the airport. I bid Max a good bye and he promised to come visit or have me visit during the off season. I promised to meet him soon. With a heavy heart, Max disappeared in the crowd as I walked into the airport.

We went back to our previous routine of talking on video calls. I ended being spoiled a lot more now that he knew where I lived because I would come home to a new package I didn't remember ordering at my front door when I returned from work. If I asked him why, and he'd just shrug it off and say that it was something that reminded him of me when he was in that country for the race. After a few packages, it was overwhelming me. I felt like I was using my rich friend for financial gain. We were on call after I had opened up a package I got from Brazil. Y/N- Max, you can't keep sending me so much stuff. There was a box full of trinkets and snacks from Brazil. Max- It was nothing, did you like it? Y/N- No Max- oh ok, what do you want? I can get that for you? Y/N- Maaaaxxxxx, that's not what I meant. You have to stop sending me stuff now. It's getting over whelming. Max- But...I just wanted to bring a little something back from every race. Y/N- Yes, do that for yourself. Not me Max- I've always wanted to take you along to races and bring you stuff back from races since I've known you. Now that I can, let me make up for all the lost time. Y/N- I get the sentiment Max, I do, but no. It's making me feel crappy since I'm not able to get you anything. I enjoy our friendship, I do not want to feel like I'm using you. Max- You're not using me. I'm using myself, honestly. Y/N- I don't want to come home to anymore packages any more. If you really want to get me something, think about it for a couple time. One or two items that you would like to get for me, is perfectly fine. Max- Ok...I really wanted to get you things though. Y/N- You can tell me about your weekend. I'll listen but this is overbearing to me. Finally he got what I meant.

We ended up making a plan for the off season. Max had won the season with the amount of points he had scored. It was a given that he was gonna be the World Drivers Champion for 2023. So, I wanted to celebrate it with him. He offered to fly me out to Abu Dhabi for the race which would not be possible since I had work. That's why we planned to spend the Christmas break together. I did suggest leaving a few days before Christmas so he can spend it with his family but he was vehemently against it. I had started Christmas shopping in November, could've done it earlier. I got Max an ugly Christmas sweater with the grinch and a matching one for myself. It would be like a friendship bracelet. We would be spending the holiday in Monaco because of the privacy and I wanted to get away from here for a few days at least. I kind of wanted to clear my feeling for Max during this trip too. Being on the receiving end of Max's affection with gifts or the phone calls wasn't easy when you were in love with him. He made it so difficult to try and get over him when he would sweet talk his way back into my heart whenever I thought I didn't like him in that way.

I had sent my collection to the author I was editing for currently since she wanted to read it ever since I mentioned that I wrote. I sent her the email a couple days after going over the collection one last time. It was exciting and nerve wrecking. Maybe getting the opinion of a fellow author would help me make it better and improve it, if need be.

The last race of the season was upon us. Max was crowned the World Driver's Champion for the third time. I texted him as soon as the race ended and congratulated him. I couldn't believe that I got to witness a Max win. The day couldn't get any better when I got a call from the author I was editing for who said that she loved the collection of poems I sent her and she wanted to help me get it published under the publication she worked for. She had been working for that publication for so long and was the biggest earner that they couldn't deny her request. In her defence, she said that the poems were so good that any one stupid would only reject it. I was asked to edit it and the author was an angel to help me out. Her reasoning was that this was a mutually beneficial relationship since she hadn't enjoyed working with someone as much as she enjoyed working with me.

Winter break couldn't come any sooner. I had packed my bags; no work, done with my editing side gig. I couldn't wait to hang out with Max. The flight there felt so long, maybe it was the excitement of wanting to see him. Max was waiting for me at the airport when I got there. A big smile on his face as I walked towards him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I hugged him. He twirled me around a little before putting me down. We walked back to the car with my bag in Max's hand. The ride there was filled with a lot of talking on Max's part. Hearing him go on about what he loved was the warmest feeling. "The cats are so excited to see you" he said. "So, you aren't?" I joked. "What no" he was flustered. "I'm excited to." he mumbled a tint of red visible on his cheeks. My heart leapt in my chest as I watched him blush. What if I wasn't delusional? What if he liked me? I thought.

At his home, the cats were a little cautious of the stranger that had entered their space but recognised me quickly by my voice and a few hours later I was sat with both of them sat on either side of me; petting the two with both of my hands. Max snapped a picture of us sat on the couch. "Can't believe this is the life you live" I said petting his cats, a soft purring exuding from both. "Having cats is the best thing ever" I almost screamed from excitement. Max laughed. "I might kidnap them" I suggested. Max shook his head, "You will do no such thing"

The next few days leading up to Christmas were a a blur, we spent time around the city, walking around and site seeing. Max was a great tour guide since he stored the most random information in his head. He gave me a quick history lesson on a lot of the places we went to. We walked along the track in Monaco since I wanted to. We went hiking; I was very out of shape is the conclusion I've come too. We spent the day leading up to Christmas cooking at home and decorating the place. This was the first time since I moved out from my parents place did I end up celebrating Christmas.

We ended up sleeping on the couch as we watched Christmas movies after tiring our self out with the decoration. I woke up in Max's arms, a warm fuzzy feeling erupted in my stomach as I watched soft snores emit from Max's lips. I carefully pried myself out of Max's grasp. When I returned, I found a disheveled Max sat on the couch. "where did you go?" he asked while rubbing his eyes. "I had to pee" I said, now sitting down on the couch beside him. "Should we open presents?" I asked. "Lemme freshen up" Max mumbled while getting up. He came back, much more awake and with 2 cups of coffee for us. We drank in silence until Max brought his present for me from under the tree and handed it to me. There were a few actually; a book on Formula One with Max's face on it, a pendent with a sapphire stone and a stupid coffee cup saying 'best friends forever'. I smiled as I held the cup against my lips acting like I was sipping coffee. "Thank you Maxie" I said. He just smile. "Now, it's your turn." I said. He grabbed the other presents; which included an ugly sweater, a Sid from Ice Age plushy and a perfume from Max's favourite brand. "These are a lot of things" he said. "Yeah, I wanted to spoil you" I smiled. "I feel spoilt" he smiled back. "I got us matching ugly sweater" I said while going to grab mine. We ended up putting our sweaters on. "I didn't tell you but I got signed by a publication" I said while Max inspected his sweater. He looked up with shock and happiness in his eyes. He quickly hugged me, "I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it" he said while hugging me. I hugged back, "Thank you for believing in me" I said with tears in my eyes.

Christmas was a weird day, we had Turkish kabab because Max wanted to. I wasn't one to say no to delicious food. The days between Christmas and New Year were a bit of a blur honestly. On new year's eve, we went out with a couple of his friends. I had decided not to drink my weight in alcohol. As we all counted down the time to new year, the excitement palpable. When the clock struck 12, I was pulled towards the guy next to me who had made acquaintance much to Max's dismay. He pressed his lips against my lips, easing me into a kiss. When I pulled away to look at Max, who's eyes flashed hurt. I hugged Max wishing him a happy new year. We left a little while later. Max was uncharacteristically quite as we drove home.

We never spoke about the silent treatment Max gave me on the way back from the club. I left Monaco a few days after. Our friendship returning to it's long distance status. With Max having to train for the next season and me having to prepare for school and my book.

The next few months were a blur with both of us quite busy. Max kept is his streak of winning the races and watching him win was a proud feeling. He would call me at the end of the day to discuss what happened and I enjoyed listening to him even though I didn't know shit about cars.

I spent the entirety of my spring break and summer break with Max, travelling to his races; which he insisted I joined. The feelings I had for him only grew. I tried to keep myself in check but all the small things he would do made it impossible. He was caring and sweet and kind, and most of all my first love that I had a hard time moving on from.

His summer break was spent lounging around my house. He accompanied me to the launch of my book; going as far as to promote it on his socials. People had started to speculate that there was something going on in between us. Max didn't really answer those questions or even try to kill the rumours. He got me a big bouquet of my favourite flowers when he came to the book launch. We went out for dinner to celebrate; ending up on all the tabloids the next day. I apologised to Max about the mess but he was unbothered, a little smile played on his face after he read the articles but nothing more.

After the summer break, Max was flying out to Netherland, for his home race. I couldn't join him due to there being a few tests I needed to grade but promised to be there for the race. I flew in the morning of the race, Max showing up at the airport to pick me up. He wouldn't let me be on my own, if he was there. We caught up on the stuff that happened in the 2 days we didn't speak. It felt like routine talking to Max. If we didn't, it felt like my day had gone my horribly and everything that could go wrong would go wrong. There was comfort in Max's voice and his arms whenever he hugged me.

I accompanied Max to the paddock, the cheers loud. Last year, was the first time I was here, this year it felt so familiar even though it was only my second time. Max wasn't starting pole but he could still finish first since he was in the front row. The race started off with Max over taking Lando at turn 1. The chance of Max wining his home race for the fourth time seemed more likely. But as the race went on, Max lost his P1 to Lando who kept the distance between him and Max a constant. Making Max finish P2, the way he started. He got out of the car to find me and his team waiting for him. I mouthed a congratulations as he walked towards me. He had tears in his eyes, "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner." he said wiping his tears. My heart skipped a beat; "You can still ask me out" I suggested. "But I'm scared of what you'll say" he muttered. "My answer would be the same, whether you were P1 or P2" I said. "And what's that?" he asked expectantly. "I would love to go out with you, Maxie" I said with a smile and tears in my eyes. Max almost jumped when he heard me, "Go on and finish up. We have a lot to talk about" I said pushing him towards the media pen.

I was waiting in his driver's room just like last year. But this time it was different, there were butterflies in my stomach and I couldn't stop smiling. I found myself pacing around the room, imagining what we would say. I was pulled out of my thought by Max now standing at the door. "Hi" he greeted shyly. "Hey" I replied, sitting on the sofa followed by Max. We sat facing each other, he took my hands in his, "Lifde, I can't believe this" he began. "me neither" I chimed in. "I've liked you for so long, I don't remember a time I didn't like you since I've known you" I continued. Max couldn't help but smile. "I didn't think you felt the same" I said. "I didn't think you felt the same either." He added. "Y/N I really wanted to win this race and ask you out as a race winner." He sulked. "You're already a race winner and a three time champion at that. I couldn't ask for more. Plus I couldn't care less; to me you'll always be a winner" I said. He took my face in his hands, "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly. I nodded. His lips inched closer to mine before they touched, our eyes fluttered close, his lips dry and chapped against my soft shiny glossed lips. Our lips moved in synchrony, tilting our head as we deepened the kiss. His hand trailing down from my cheek to my waist to pull me closer, I was now sat on his lap. I pulled away breathless, our foreheads touching, breaths intermingling, eyes locked; "I love you Y/N" he stated. "I have for a while. I didn't know how to say it. I'm glad not winning pushed me over the edge" "I love you too, Maxie. Can't wait to celebrate your fourth championship" I said. "You think?" he asked. "I know" I said, cupping his cheeks to kiss him again. His hands on my waist pulled me closer, as if it was even possible. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked in between kisses. "Yes" I breathed out as we continued to kiss.

When god sends blessings, it becomes hard to count. I got the man of my dreams and the stepping stone to my career goals.

[torasplanet]

❝𝙃𝙀𝙇𝙇𝘾𝘼𝙏 𝙎𝙍𝙏.ᐟ❞

A. ARLERT, C. SPRINGER, E. YEAGER + GN/AFAB. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; your plug!bf lovesss taking you for rides in his hellcat;)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, gn!reader for armin and eren, afab!reader for connie, car sex, oral (m!receiving/armin), backshots(eren), p in v(connie), petnames (baby, slut, bae), cheating (armin), homewrecker!armin coffee addict!eren, drug dealing, praise, light degradation, can you tell armin's my fav? reader kinda has a bit of a tummy in connie's, belly bulging(connie) skin color not mentioned

A. ARLERT

Armin loved having you ride with him and you loved it too. You loved it even more after getting out of a rough argument with your boyfriend because being with him just made everything so much more amazing!

So when Armin texted you asking if you wanted to come to ride with him a day after you argued with your pathetic excuse of your boyfriend leaving you all sad because he nearly hit you, of course you agreed even though you knew what he was going to do.

You've gone on so many rides with Armin while he was dealing and doing shit that he even thought of getting your name stitched on that passenger seat.

He might as well get it stitched on the backseat too because everyyy ride, you seem to make your way back there with him going back with you.

"Fuck..." Armin groaned loudly as he threw his head back against the soft black seats of the Hellcat, it was a drastic difference from the Frostbite exterior that you adored. His hand tangled in your hair as you looked up at him mouth full of cock and your nose buried into his surprisingly curly blonde pubes.

You blinked up at him almost wanting to smile at his face full of pleasure "I love you so much, baby." Armin moaned out his back arching slightly as your hands that were sat on his knees slid up his denim jeans and rested on his thighs. It was a little crazy for him to be moaning that so loud when he was supposed to be waiting for a customer to meet him here.

How could he control himself when your head was just so fucking amazing?

You brought a hand to grip him as you pulled your mouth off smiling up at him "Wanna kiss." You muttered as Armin looked down at you a smile forming on his face, he grabbed your jaw and leaned down before pressing his lips to yours sloppily as you continued to jerk him off. Unlike your stupid boyfriend, Armin had no problem giving you anything you wanted and not like material things. (though he does do that too.)

Armin didn't care if he was around his customers, friends, or whatever, if you wanted a kiss, you'd get one. The deepest kiss anyone's ever seen actually. Shit, if you wanted to drag him away for maybe a quickie or because you just can't help but want his cock in your mouth, he'd allow it. Dropping a whole conversation just to satisfy you.

This is why when a customer was taking wayyyy too long and said that his friend was gonna come pick it up for him, he let you climb into that backseat and give him head when you asked if he wanted some.

"Love you s'much." You blubbered breaking the kiss before putting your head right back down on him your swollen lips wrapping around his cock once more "Shittt! You're my best slut baby...ugh." The blonde said grabbing the handle of the door that was luckily locked because if it wasn't, everyone would've seen his best baby.

Too bad that was cut short with a knock at his tinted window "Hold on baby." Armin said with a groan turning to the door as did you taking your mouth off him as you shoved him back into his PSD boxers "Hand me my shit, will you?" The blue-eyed male asked you a little pissed off because he didn't get to cum while looking back down and you happily nodded.

Reaching back and grabbing the little baggies that sat in the driver's seat before handing it to him. Armin rolled down the window and there he was.

Your boyfriend standing there looking down at the scene in front of him his gaze going from you to Armin back and forth as you plucked one of Armin's pubes from your tongue "What the fuck?" He cursed frowning down at you and Armin. Guess he must've been that friend.

"So I take it you don't want your shit anymore?"

E. YEAGER

Eren felt just horrible.

He woke you up on his way out to get his morning coffee because he sucked at making coffee and he had customers later today so there was no way he could get through that without coffee. You knew this and knew how he'd try and sneak out without waking you up because he knew how much you hated waking up early and how you would insist on going with him because you didn't want to be alone.

So you were in the car with him still in your pajamas practically falling asleep in the passenger seat and he just felt horrible for that so he decided to make a little detour to give you a small pick-me-up.

Eren's hands gripped your hips harshly as his hips snapped into yours repeatedly as you moaned loudly "Unh! 'Ren!" You sputtered loudly your hands running down the tinted window looking for something to grip. Shit you were even going to grab onto the seatbelt, you were that desperate.

It was just so good, that you needed something to grab onto or bite onto.

"Still tired baby?" Eren asked as he leaned closer his chest pressing against your back as his cold hand trailed from your hip to up your shirt grouping gently as your back arched from the sudden coldness on your nipple.

You hated it when he was teasing you. Of course, you weren't tired. Not with his cold hands wandering all over your body and his hips continuously snapping into yours with noises of him sliding in and out echoing throughout the car.

You turned your head back to gaze at your boyfriend but with an especially hard thrust, your cheek pressed against the window "Ow! Eren!" You whined looking back at your long-haired boyfriend, he let out a small smile before pressing a small kiss on the nape of your neck.

"Sorry baby," Eren muttered trailing kisses from down your nape to down your spine, and his thrusts slowed a bit. Eren's apology was empty and meaningless, he probably meant to do it just to see the pout on your face.

Such a meanie.

The tickling of his wet kisses made a giggle escape your lips through moans and whines.

You looked down not wanting to soil the pitch-black seats, this car was so expensive...probably worth more than your entire life but Eren clearly didn't care from how he'd initiate shit like this almost every time you hopped in that car.

You didn't understand that. There'd always be a white stain on these seats and he looked like he didn't have a care in the world but oh let any of his customers touch that Octane Red paint on his car and all hell would break loose.

Guess you were just different huh? Special even. "You still need coffee or is this enough huh?"

C. SPRINGER

Connie absolutely adored you.

You were pretty, smart, and such a good fuck.

Soooo it was only right that he celebrated you getting a 100% on a test you've been studying for forever by giving you the best present ever right in the back of his hellcat<3

You were so pretty moaning under him laid out in the backseat, your face twisted with pleasure, sweat beads rolling down your forehead and drool dropping down from your lips to your chin from your mouth that refused to close and just kept spilling out more and more whines and moans.

Connie ran his hand down from your throat and to your bare stomach resting it there before pushing down gently earning a yelp from you. You couldn't even think straight, you'd used up all your brains on that test, and the little that was left, Connie was busy fucking it all out.

His strong smell of weed and cologne filled your nostrils along with the amazing and clean smell of his car, it just made everything more pleasurable for you.

"Look at me, bae." Connie cooed pressing down on your stomach again making your eyes shoot open and another loud whine escape from your throat.

"M' sorry!" You blabbered out your head nearly hitting the door over and over with Connie's thrusts, Connie's hand went to your face comfortingly "Don't apologize baby. Just wanna see yo' pretty eyes." The springer boy said with a reassuring smile on his face leaning down to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

A small laugh escaped your lips from the tickling feeling as you gazed up at your boyfriend with such adoration and desire in your eyes as your hands came to hold onto the back of his neck "When we get home I'll give you more." Thoughts of what Connie could do popped into your head continuously as a smile formed on your face.

He could eat you out maybe? Maybe let you ride him? There were so many things he could do when this was over and he drove you two home.

Connie was a freak. There was no doubt about that, he liked some shit you'd never even heard of before you met him and was down for anything and everything which only made the possibilities of what he could do endless.

Connie leaned forward kissing you passionately as his thrusts got sloppier and harder. Your tongues fighting for dominance with his winning almost instantly earning a small chuckle from him but it stopped just as soon as it started as the kiss got deeper.

He was stealing the breaths from you with every thrust.

"Next time you get an A, we'll do it anywhere you want."

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[writerbugg]

Good Luck

Chapter # 5 Cinematic

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

Wattpad

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 (You are here), Chapter 6

The whole tradition of cinema is dominated, really, by films about good guys versus bad guys, good versus evil. But we have very few films about the nature of evil itself. - Joshua Oppenheimer

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Jon lies on his bed, staring at nothing in particular. It had been a few weeks since Y/n went with the Waynes, and he had to admit, the apartment felt empty without her.

Shifting around, Jon reaches for the picture frame on his nightstand. A soft smile spreads on his face as he looks at a seven-year-old Y/n standing with the Justice League, a contagious smile on her face.

"I wonder what she's doing now.."

──●◎●──

Y/n stands at the front doors of the manor, watching as Clark pulls into the driveway, discomfort bubbling in her gut.

Something told her this meeting wasn't going to go well.

"Y/n!" Clark quickly exited his car, rushing to Y/n and scooping her into his arm. "Oh Y/n, I'm sorry the others couldn't come and visit. They were too busy with work and school, but if the chance arises, I'll make sure they make it next time." Clark reassured the girl.

"Oh uh, that's good, thanks," Y/n muttered, leaving Clark's grip.

Clark frowns at Y/n's distant behavior, shooting a look at Bruce before smiling again. "I'm here to spend time with you Y/n, maybe try and jog your memory..." He reaches into his pocket and grabs two movie tickets. "See! I got us tickets to your favorite movie!"

Y/n takes one of these tickets. 'The Incredibles' strangely fits in this world.

A sigh resonates from behind Y/n, Bruce frowning at the two of them. "Clark, you know I can't let you do that. It's too soon to be trying anything yet."

Clark glares harshly at Bruce, "I don't see how you can stop me Wayne, and I'm pretty sure I know what's best for my kid."

Grabbing Y/n's hand, Clark drags her back to his car, ignoring Bruce's protest.

Clark makes Y/n sit in the front seat before going around the front and entering the driver's side. As if trying to comfort her, Clark gives Y/n a side hug as he leaves the Wayne manors driveway.

──●◎●──

Minutes go by in uncomfortable silence, the radio station humming some random song quietly, the low hum of the car engine filling the space between them. Clark, gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes darting from the road to Y/n. She was staring blankly out the window, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the glass.

"Y/n," Clark began, "I know you don't remember, but the last time we went to the movies together was your 13th birthday. You wanted to see the Incredibles then."

Y/n frowned, a knot forming in her stomach, guilt filling her, though she didn't know why.

"I thought... maybe if we watched it again, it might help jog some memories," he continued, the words coming out in a rush. "It's always been your favorite. You'd watch it over and over, even when I begged for something else." He let out a strained chuckle that seemed to contradict the radio's happy tunes.

Y/n didn't answer, continuing to look out the window at the passing buildings. Clark's heart ached with a dull, relentless throb. His mind raced back to the days before whatever this was stole his daughter away. He remembered her laughter, her curiosity, the way she would pepper him with questions about everything and anything.

Now, Y/n couldn't even look at him. Desperation gnawed at him, a dark shadow lurking at the edges of his mind. He needed to bring her back. He needed to see that spark in her eyes again, to hear her laugh, to know that she was still there, somewhere beneath that cold, nervous expression.

As they drove, Clark glanced at the rearview mirror, catching sight of his reflection. Lines on his face seemed deeper, his eyes hollow. He barely recognized himself. The effort of holding it all together was tearing him apart, piece by piece.

"Remember the time we went camping?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You caught your first fish, and you were so excited you almost fell into the lake." He chuckled again, but it quickly turned into a choked sob. He bit down on his lip, hard, tasting blood.

Y/n gasped, "Clark-"

"Dad," he corrected sharply, his tone laced with frustration. "Call me Dad, Y/n."

Clark almost immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice as Y/n recoiled slightly, a look of guilt crossing her features.

"I-I'm sorry, sweetheart," Clark stammered, reaching out to touch her hand. "It's just... I want us to be a family again. I want... I want you to remember."

His heart almost completely shattered when Y/n moved her hand away.

The radio continued to play its happy tunes as the two sat in silence.

...

The car pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater, the neon lights flickering to life. Clark turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"We're going to get through this," he said, more to himself than to her. "I promise you, Y/n. We'll find a way."

──●◎●──

Chapter 6

A/n: Sad times :,) Anyways, guess who's out of school AHHHHHHHH!!! And guess who's also going on a trip to EUROPE!!! AHHHH!!! I'm so excited y'all.

@rosecentury

[raikkxz]

ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙this lowkey reminds me of a 2018 wattpad story but fuck it we ball﹚

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IT WASN'T SURPRISING for a young, intelligent woman like you to get your dream job in motorsport, especially as the not very known sister of the much loved driver at rbr, sebastian vettel. start of the season, first day, no sweat. couldn't be much harder than what you've been studying for all your years at uni. you just started working for your brothers team, red bull racing. you could not wait. not only did you get to work at the job you've been dreaming of since you were a little kid, but you got to work along side your older brother, who you loved dearly.

even though you were attempted to be knocked down down by some stupid boys when you were younger, it never stopped you from watching f1 races, studying how they built their cars, or researching about your favourite motorsport. you were determined, stubborn and hardworking. the perfect traits for someone to pursue their dream job. with your supportive brother and family by your side, you were thankful that you finally have made it this far.

as the studious young lady you were, it also wasn't surprising that you were shuffling through your folder containing multiple notes, making sure you didn't forget anything. paying too much attention to what you were doing - rather than where you were going, you bumped into a hard wall.

no, wait. not a wall, but rather a fairly tall man in his early 30s. your folder falls to the floor, the pencil tucked behind your ear doing its best to stay put. squatting down to pick up the fallen folder, you mumbled rapidly. "shoot, sorry, that was completely my fault, i wasn't paying attention to where i wa-"

"relax, darling," you heard a chuckle, the british accent sounding familiar in your ears. "you seem to be stressing yourself out." as you stood up, you were faced with the one and only 2009 wdc winner. "..i- sorry." you whispered softly, embarressed as you stared at your shoes.

"it's alright, love. it was an accident." he grinned, leaning over slightly to see your face. "i haven't seen you around here, are you-"

"there you are!!" your older brother, jogs up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. you seemed to forget all about your little accident as you crack into a smile. "c'mon now, you're going to be late." you giggle as seb drags you along with him.

jenson watched as you and sebastian went over to the red bull garage. his eyes followed your perfect posture, up to how your clothes were neat and unwrinkled, finally stopping and lingering on your face. 'friends' with the 2010 champion, hmm? he watched as you entered the garage. he couldn't wait to meet you again.

〜

"hello there, love." from the corner of your eye, you could see a shadow leaning on the doorframe. that same british accent from the day before, that same faint cologne, that same little smirk that seemed to get on your nerves in the weirdest - but not bad - way.

"mr. button." you nod as you wrote notes that you learnt the day before on your tablet.

"please, it's just jenson." jenson sat next to you, leaning over your shoulder to see what you were writing. he did it like personal space wasn't a thing. "i didn't get your name." he turned your head to face you, a small grin on his face.

"it's y/n." you say, not facing him.

"i take it you know sebastian? y'know, from yesterday." he asks, attempting to start a conversation.

"he's my brother." you press 'save' on your tablet, finally closing it and meeting jenson's eyes for the first time. your gaze lingered for a quick second, taking in his features, observing his demeanour.

jenson paused. "brother? i didn't know he had any siblings." jenson says curiously.

"you don't seem to know a lot of things." you say jokingly, giving him a tiny grin. the man couldn't help but chuckle.

"y/n vettel? such a pretty name for a pretty woman." he winks, thinking his usual playboy charm would work on you just like the other girls.

you can't help but roll your eyes playfully as you packed your things. "see you around, button."

〜

you reached into your handbag to pay for your ice cream. the cashier shook her head, gesturing to a man sitting by the window. "he already paid." you furrow your eyebrows. "oh, alright. thank you." you give the cashier a small smile before turning to where she was gesturing to.

jenson damn button. you could already feel his gaze on you and that lingering scent on him as you sat in front of the driver.

"there's really no need to pay for me, mr. button."

"and there's really no need to call me 'mr. button,' love." jenson chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee.

you sigh. you couldn't be stubborn with him, knowing how hard headed he was from all your years of watching f4 to f1.

"this is a nice little shop, don't you think? perfect place to hangout before the australian gp." jenson leans forward, that same smirk on his face.

"mmm, yeah. they have delicous ice cream." you take a bite of yours, not being able to help but feel guilty for not paying for your ice cream.

"what's your favourite flavour?" jenson asks, trying to fuel the conversation.

"chocolate. basic but the best." you say softly with icecream covered lips.

"that's fair." he chuckles. "i'm a vanilla kind of guy."

from there, your conversation grew longer. you both opened up more, sharing small laughs and recalling past memories. it felt like only minutes to you both, but little did you know it was nearly dinner.

"would you look at that, it's nearly 6pm." you check your phone.

"well, before i say goodbye, do you think i could have the pleasure of taking you out for dinner this thursday?" jenson grins.

"nice try, button, but im busy all week. try again next time, and we'll see." chuckling, you pack up your things. "later!" you leave the icecream shop as jenson's eyes follow.

"later." he mumbles. this felt different. different in a way he's never felt like this before. different in a way that you were different. different in a way he was really falling for someone. different or stupid, his stomach twisted with mixed feelings. different.

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i genuinely don't know when im gonna have more parts to this 😔﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud﹚

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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!

[adventuringblind]

Deserving

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Summary: while she falls into the pit of her mind, Charles is there to pull her out.

Warnings: mentioned self-harm, anxiety, toxic media, mentions of addiction

Notes: A Nonny request, I hope you like it!! This one is definitely an insight into how my brain works.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Everyone says rookie years are the hardest. Which, she won't say everyone is wrong, just that she also had consistently bad years. They blend into each other now. A never-ending cycle of the same lame excuses as to why she's so downcast.

She's a rookie driver and having a pretty decent season. Logan and Oscar are two of her closest friends. She's dating Charles Leclerc of all people.

So why is that piece of her brain still nagging at her? Years of therapy and help hasn't done the trick. The stinging still pushes through to the front of her mind.

The habit started so young. It was a distraction from the pain of whatever she'd been going through at the time. A means to satisfy her the voices in her head. Now it's to remind her she's still alive. That the media hasn't shattered her already frail will to live quite yet.

Everything in her wants to just... stop. Everyday she's reminded that her place is somewhere else. Not in the car, not with Charles, not even on the planet.

It doesn't matter that she's having a good year, that the car is good, or that she has people who love her. The voices always come back in those dark hours when she's alone.

She staggered herself in the beginning. Enough that her physio wasn't catching on. She lived in Charles' hoodies, and he thought nothing of it. Just another source of comfort.

He'd seen the faded scars, asked her about it every occasionally. He never pushes her to talk about it.

She doesn't deserve Charles, or anyone for that matter. Mentors, family, friends, they are all to wonderful for her to drag them down into her misery. The constant pity party she throws herself has no guests, only her and her demons.

Redbull isn't the best environment for someone as fragile as her. Despite the boosts of confidence Christian gives her daily and the constant reassurance from Max, she doesn't feel like she deserves it. The media is eating her alive. The next teammate to be crucified to Redbull and Mad Max.

It's starting to become noticeable again. The lack of sleep and covering clothes. Charles is skeptical and keeps reassuring her she can talk to him.

If she does that, he'll leave. Her mind can't take being alone yet.

Max is the first to catch sight of the new lines adorning her wrist. He asks if she's alright, but again, nobody pushes for more. Maybe if they did, she would break. Her fragile walls would come tumbling down.

Oscar is the next to push. A good friend of hers and they've both had good seasons. He and Logan show up one night with comfort food and cards. It manages to make her smile like when they were younger.

But they have to leave eventually. The voices swallow her whole the second she's alone again.

Charles finally pushes for answers. He finds her alone, body slumped along the hotel bathroom wall. She's exhausted, but manages to give a crooked, tired smile.

He crouches down in front of her and looks at the fresh line on her thighs. Bandages are something she has readily available, and Charles knows exactly where to find them.

He works quietly, just humming softly as he patches her up. It's a classical song that he listens enough that she knows the tune but not the name.

Charles dresses her into comfy clothes and tucks her into bed. A hand plays with her hair and strokes her cheek.

She doesn't deserve him.

"Tell me what's eating away at you, chéri. Please, I hate that you won't talk to me."

She scoots her body closer to Charles so she doesn't have to see his face. "Just hard - I guess."

"It's okay to have hard days. It's okay that you feel the way you do. But this thing, hurting yourself, is not the way to make it better."

"I know that, Charlie!" Her voice cracks at saying his name. "I just can't help it."

Those fragile walls she has come tumbling down. The pit of despair finally swallows her, and she can't stop the tears.

It hurts. Her head, her heart, her bones, it all hurts. She falls and shatters, but Charles is here to put the pieces back together.

"I don't deserve you. You're everything people love, and I don't want to drag you down with me."

"Who put that idea in your head?"

"The voices," She sniffles. Her words muffled when Charles pulls her into his chest.

"Well, the voices are incorrect. I, of all people, know what it's like for the media to pick you a part. Whether it's appearances, my driving, my relationships, they will always find something." Charles pulls her back just a bit, enough for him to make eye contact. She hates how his eyes are as glassy as hers. "You don't have to suffer all alone, in silence. You have people around you that understand and want to help. None of us are asking for perfection. We - I - don't want to see you hurting so much."

"What if it's too much?"

"Then we figure it out together."

She falls asleep in Charles' arms. Tears soak into everything, but he doesn't tell her to move. He comforts, because Charles loves her.

She has people who want to be there for her. Yes, slips happen, healing is never straightforward, but she can try. She can lean on Charles, let him love her; let him be the steady rock she needs in her life.

"Progress chéri, not perfection."

"You sound like all team principles."

"And? It's a good saying!"

Charles pulls a laugh out of her. A genuine laugh at something that isn't even funny. She blames her love for him.

"Maybe I do deserve you."

"If this is an insult, I'm taking all the covers tonight."

[charlesslut16]

https://www.tumblr.com/charlesslut16/717681059029024768/enemys

Dude this was sooooo gooodd!!!! make it a seriessss!!

you wish is my command

here are the other parts : (1) , (3)  / masterlist

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-Enemys?-

summary : after what happened in Bahrain charles and you are confused because you don't know what to feel for each other.

PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : curse words, bad translated french and italian and panic attack mentioned

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today you were at the Saudi Arabia grand prix, with Isa, in the Ferrari garage. You were in the Ferrari garage and not in the Mercedes one because charles asked you to watch the race with Isa in the Ferrari motor home.

The reason why he wanted you there was unclear for you. Yes, he told you he didn't hate you, but you didn't believe him. But now that he asked you to watch the race in the Ferrari garage, you were unsure.

You left the Bahrain grand prix early to gather your thoughts. You left charles with his family and friends, as you knew that he was safe and didn't get another panic attack, which did not happen.

Furthermore, you were so confused. One time, Charles told you he hated you and that you were a waste of space, and the next he had a panic attack and only wanted you to help him.

So now you were watching the race, rooting for charles and carlos. After the 5o laps, the race was finished. Carlos got the sixth place and charles the seventh. You knew charles wasn't happy by the results of today.

Isa and you waited until the boys came. As you saw charles around the corner, you smiled. He looked good. Charles came up to you and as you wanted to say how proud you were, he grabbed your wrist and dragged you into his driver's room.

"Charles calm down! What's wrong with you?!" you told him, confused and angered.

You looked into his eyes, thinking you would find anger, but instead you found sadness. His eyes met yours and the dam broke, tears were threatening to fall down his cheeks. 

As you saw that, you took his hands in yours, trying to calm him down, but it didn't work. So you decided to pull him to you and hugged him. You pressed his head on your shoulders, so he could cry on it.

Charles accepted the hug and wrapped his arms around your waist, so that you were as near as possible to him. He cried on your shoulder, as you hugged him tighter against you.

" Je suis un tel échec." he said between sobs, while you rubbed his back to calm him down and comfort him. I'm such a failure. 

"You're not. It's the car, not you. Charles, you are one of the best drivers on the grid." you answered, as you still rubbed his back, him calming down in the process.

You waited until you heard that he stopped crying, so you could let him go and step out of the hug. 

"Grazie. Sei davvero la cosa migliore che mi sia mai capitata, angelo mio." He told you, but you didn't understand a word, as you couldn't understand italian. 

Thank you. You really are the best thing that ever happened to me, my angel.

"charles, you know I can't understand a word of italian. What did you say?"

"Just thank you for helping me." he answered your question, looking you deep in the eyes. Smiling at your look, as if you knew that what he answered wasn't what he had said.

"Your welcome," you answered him, fiddling with your fingers and picking on your finger beds to distract you from that one question you wanted to ask charles.

He noticed your fiddling and as a reaction he took your hands in his, bringing them to his mouth for a quick kiss. He knew what was bothering you. H asked himself the same question.

"I will go now, you seem alright here. If you need anything, ask Isa or Carlos. " 

Charles nodded. That was the only reaction he gave you. No disappointment, no sadness nor happiness. Nothing. You knew charles would be okay, just like he was in Bahrain after you helped him.

You checked one last time if he was okay, so you could leave. As you saw that he was okay, you left his driver's room, closed the door and left him standing alone in the room.

As you walked to the exit, you let your thoughts room free. Maybe you two weren't made for each other. God. You hated each other 2 weeks ago, but what about now.

It was raining by now. Perfect. It rained outside, while in your head, the thoughts rained. Everything on your mind was clouded with thoughts, while the sky was clouded with raining clouds.

You were not even sure why you thought that there was something between you guys. You were enemies. That is what you were supposed to be. Not this. Enemies.

This feeling made you ill. The feeling of not knowing. You hated not knowing what to do or what to feel. You didn't normally feel like this, but since charles came into the picture, everything changed.

"Y/n!! Y/n! Please wait!" you heard someone yell after you. Turning around, you saw him. Him. You saw charles running toward you, with your phone in his grasp.  

He comes near you, so he could give you your phone. Your wet hands touched as he gave you your phone. Both of you drenched in the paddock of Saudi Arabia with mixes feelings for each other.

"Thank you" you say to him with a smile of gratitude. Both of you didn't know what to say to each other. You had the same thoughts, but you couldn't bring them over the lips.

"I will go now. If I'm quick, I can make it back home without fuss. Thank you again."

Charles nodded again. You step away from him, turning around, letting him alone again, but this time drenched in the rain. You wanted to ask him the question, but you just couldn't.

Just as you wanted to walk, charles pulled you back to him, so you were in front of him. His had left your wrist, so he could hold your chin up to look at him. You waited for him to ask you, but he didn't.

 Instead, he bent down and connected your lips with his.

[catnipaddictt]

Abstract

wc: 2.1k

series masterlist ⭑ co-creator @memoiich

You had finally moved away from your hometown. A final answer to your undying search for independence. A trait your mothers whipped tongue had tried to rein back for years. Something that had very clearly failed. The thought alone made you smirk a bit as you stood before your new home. The Alderaan apartments were a choice at best. Very cheap for the location being so close to the centre of the city but a little decrepit. Still it felt like a palace to you right now.

You made your way up to the 4th floor, the highest of the crumbling building. Leaving you to look out to the curtains of the slightly nicer hotel on the other side of the street. Grabbing your suitcase, you unpacked your luggage before coming to the realisation that you had no food in your new home. And of course it just had to be dark outside, evening having set. After overthinking your options you decided to ask your neighbour for some eggs. Dragging yourself to your neighbour’s door with your metaphorical tail between your legs, you knocked on the door.

A strange being poked its face through the slightest gap possible, it looked around worried. You didn’t know if it was to look for trouble or to find it. After the anxiety-writing look, the creature opened the creaking door. Now that you could see it, It was clearly a Gungan.

“Hello. Missa Jar Jar Binks. Why are you at misssas door?“ he questions “Hey, I'm your new neighbour. I was wondering if I could borrow some eggs?“ You say, a bit unsure of the Gungan in front of you. “Missa loves eggs. Sun sun or scrambled, lovely for my tumtum” jar jar snickers at the end. ”So… Can I use the eggs? You question once again. “Missa doesn’t have any eggs for sunsun but missa could go to the store for stuff and stuff.” Not only did you think of going to the store before you were now massively disappointed and also extremely tired. The less effort option was clearly the wrong one.

“No it's fine I will go myself thank you anyways.” Before finishing Jar Jar was already speaking, “It's not a big dealio, you newbie don't know the way like missa does.” Before you could protest against this clearly exhausting task, he was already out of the door and started walking towards the staircase. Not wanting to be rude, you followed. It took 17 minutes longer than normal to get to the store because Jar Jar wanted to ‘cut a cornerio’. Once at the store Jar Jar started to argue after eating a RAW egg “As a tasty jum jum” Only after 36 min of arguing and you finally offering to just buy the dozen did you start to make your way back home which also took a small hour.

You could finally bid Jar Jar goodnight. You got home just to cook the damn eggs ‘sun-sun’ style and went to bed in the early morning, you already knew this new life was going to be hard at first.

Waking up had never been so hard before, but the alarm was ringing and today was an important one. It was your first day at your new job at the paper company, ‘Paper Force’. Paper Force was located pretty far away, you would have to drive past the mustafar part of the city, making it a long trip for a very tired driver. Prepping for work wasn't the worst as you had laid out your work outfit the night before.

You got in your beat-up 2002 beetle and started the 50 minute commute. At the 20 minute point your car started to rumble, not just a soft snore, no, a rumble. 10 minutes later and you were stuck by the side of the road. You search an auto shop on your hologram immediately. The only car mechanic that wasn't 2 hours away was a place called ‘MustaCar’. Having no time to waste, you called the number.

45 long minutes later an old pickup truck pulls up behind your still-not-starting beetle. By this point you were frankly very annoyed. You were already half an hour late to your new job, and it didn't seem like you were going to get there soon. And to make things worse, you slept bad last night, meaning you were now rather sleep deprived.

The door to the pickup truck swings open with a clunk, clearly well used. A man in his early to mid 20’s steps out of the vehicle, he reaches up and moves his dark-blond curls out of his field of vision. He wears an oil-stained long sleeved button up, of which you cannot tell the original colour, as well as a pair of dirtied jeans. He spots you, puts his hands in his pockets and stalks over, clearly in no hurry.

“I was just thinking you weren't going to bother showing up” you snapped at him harshly. “Well, sorry Miss, the rest of the world doesn’t revolve around you” You let out a sharp breath at his words. “Excuse me, just look at my car and do your job”. You were fed up with this day already and now you had to deal with a know-it-all, stuck-up, man-child of a mechanic. “Parents didn’t teach you manners I see, now what seems to be the matter here? So I can do my job” He walks towards your car, popping the lid. You roll your eyes at him before speaking. “Well she won't go” He rolls up his sleeves, “Figured that much” he states. Your brows furrow in annoyance, you don’t have time for his attitude, “something started making noise and now she doesn't want to run.” He leans forward to observe your car’s engine. “She, huh, does the lovely lady have a name as well?” You can hear his smirk through his words. Your ears turn red “Shelby, the car is called Shelby”. The mechanic lets out a harsh laugh as he turns to something unknown “An old lady I suppose then, with a name like that”. You let out a huff and turn away.

“Dead Battery and the terminals are corroding”. You jump slightly, having zoned out. “Sorry?” you question. “You have a dead battery and its terminals are also corroding. Oh and you have a break problem, that's what the noise was”. You stand there a bit perplexed, “Uh what does that mean?”. “It means you aren’t gonna be able to drive Shelby until you get her fixed”. He says the name of your car amusingly. “So can you do it then?” You ask, checking your hologram for the time, you were almost an hour late already. “Well that's my job isn’t it?” He raises an eyebrow. You sigh, clearly this guy thought highly of himself. “How much and how long?” you demand, patient wearing thin at this point. “Well the battery change is gonna be about 150, plus the corrosion, about 20, and the grinding breaks, another 150 credits” he pauses before speaking again, “it’ll take a bit, have to order in the parts, could take a while, a few weeks”. “A few weeks!” you all but shout.

You pace away, trying to think. You were very very late, had little to no sleep, and now your beloved car wasn’t going, plus you might have to wait weeks to get her back running. “Fine, do what you must” you bark out. Hopefully this man could fix Shelby quickly, and you would never have to deal with him or another car problem ever again. “Need anything out of her? Or are you good?” He asks. You walk over to Shelby, grab your bag, morning caffeine fix, and sweater. You shut the door gently. The guy speaks, walking back over to the pickup truck “Okay then, I’ll take her into the shop and she’ll be good as new soon. Oh and I will probably need some contact details, unless you never want to see your car again” He walks back carrying a piece of blue-ish paper and a pen with the ‘MustaCar’ logo on the side, passing both to you. You write down your information and hand it back to his expecting hand. “You should come by the shop, I’m sure the guys would love that” And with a smirk and a wink, he turns, secures Shelby, and gets back into the pickup. You watch as he drives off with your prized possession, your Shelby, If he ruins her, he will have hell to pay. You had now been walking for 30 minutes, with your workplace still another 20 minutes away. Your hair sticks to your forehead with sweat and your feet are starting to ache. The music playing in your ears is a nice distraction from your situation as you stroll at pace. Finally after what feels like a millennium, you reach the building. The large blue letters spell ‘Paper Force’, meaning you haven’t gotten lost along the way. Making your way to the building, you check your reflection in a window, fix your hair, and give yourself a mental pep talk. Just go in, explain what happened, it will all be fine. At least you hope. With a deep breath and step inside.

Pulling up the shop with a rumble, the pickup-truck deposits his newest client's female car around the back. The fading MustaCar sign blinks slowly at him as he gets out the parked truck and steps foot on solid ground. The beetle named Shelby looks out of place among the beat up vehicles, and forgotten projects of the shop. “Anakin” A female voice yells from inside the garage before a young togruta steps out. She wears overalls and a pair of safety goggles on her head. “New project Snips” He says. “What's wrong with it? It looks pretty good to me” the togruta states as she walks over and runs a hand over the bonnet. “Battery is dead, corrosion, and breaks need new pads” Anakin explains, counting off each problem on his fingers. “We are gonna need to order stuff in for her”. The togruta laughs “Her?” she questions. Anakin sighs “Yes, Ahsoka, Her. Owner calls it Shelby". “Cute” Ahsoka shrugs “lets see what we can do”.

“Well the brake pads are definitely going to have to be replaced, there is basically nothing there” Ahsoka looks up as she speaks. “Thought as much, '' replies Anakin, as he wanders over with two cups of coffee, he passes one to Ahsoka. “Thanks”. “I placed an order for the new battery and brake pads, should take a week to arrive, but knowing the shipping times, it will probably take longer than that” Anakin says as he surveys Shelby. “At least she isn’t a complete wreck”. Ahsoka nods behind Anakin “speaking of wrecks, how is that project coming along ''. Anakin turns to look at the car sitting under a large tree. He had picked up the third generation Pontiac firebird from a man on his deathbed; it had been living in a barn for 20 years, rusted, and in desperate need of restoration. If it even could be saved. “It's a work in progress Snips”, “I don’t know, it is rusted pretty bad in some of it, it will take a genius to make it run again”, “Good thing i’m here then” He replies with a smile. Ahsoka rolls her eyes and drains the last of her drink before returning to their newest project.

A voice pulls Anakin out of his work “Anakin, I need to speak to you”. The voice comes from an elderly man, Palpatine, the creator and owner of MustaCar. “Of course” Anakin wipes the oil off his hands on a nearby cloth, before throwing it back on the table and following Palpatine. They enter the main office of the shop and Palpatine closes the door behind them. “Sith Auto Dominion is growing. At this rate we will be losing profit by the same time next month” Palpatine states. Sith Auto Dominion was the biggest competition for MustaCar, located on the other side of town on Geonosis Blvd. Over time the opposing shop had been taking their customers, meaning Palpatine and the people he employ have been having to cut costs however they can. “What can we do?” Anakin questions. “Not much my boy, we just have to be careful. I have owned this shop for 45 years and I will not see it go bankrupt” he takes a breath “You are my best mechanic Anakin, I cannot afford to lose you”. Palpatine walks around to his desk and sits down, gesturing at the seat opposite him. “I have a favour to ask you, Anakin”. “Anything” He replies. “Take your apprentice, go to Sith Auto, find out what they have that we don’t”

“Alright Snips, we have a job”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Nightlife 4

Warnings: dark elements to come. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Lee offers you a ride home. When you tell him you're going to the library instead, he insists on taking you there. You don't have the energy to refuse again.

You get in the car, a corvette the colour of copper. The inside is well kept and tidy, an air freshener lacing the air with a scent like cologne. The only sign of use is the fast food cup in the holder on the drivers side.

You put your bag at your feet and pull your seatbelt down. Lee shifts in his seat as he buckles up and checks the mirrors. He starts the engine, a loud rumbling beast, and steers out with a rev.

"So, little darling, you got a big test comin' up?" He asks, one hand on the wheel as he rests the other over your headrest.

"I got some reading to catch up on," you explain as you look evasively out the window.

"Ah, that's a good thing. Studyin' and all that. You're a good girl, ain't ya?"

You don't know how to answer that. There's some double meaning you can't quite decipher. You play with the hem of your blouse and shrug.

"I guess. I… try my best."

"I'm sure your best is more than enough," his hand drifts down and his fingertips touch your hair, "not like them other college girls. Like your friend. Hanging out in all the wrong places…"

"Raquel isn't… bad," you stammer. In fact, she gets better grades than you.

"I'm sure she's a nice one but not like you. Not a sweet little thing. You know, you walkin' up to that club like that, uh uh, if I wasn't there… not everyone is looking out for your kind."

"Mhmm," you hum as you tense in the seat.

His knuckles graze your cheek and you wince. You don't know what to do or what he's doing. So you do nothing.

Your heart thumps as he traces your jawline, "you really are pretty one. You like cherry? You know how to make cherry pie? You could bake me one…"

"Sir," you gulp as you stare through the windshield. You realise he's turned onto a backstreet. There isn't much traffic there.

"You'd look so nice in a pretty red dress, hm? And an apron?" He toys with your sleeve as his foot gets lighter on the pedal, "you could put a ribbon in your hair," his touch lingers on your arm as he steers into an empty lot, "and nothing else, if ya like."

He gropes your chest and you cry out in a panic. You try to swat him away as he hushes you. He hits the button of his seatbelt and it retracts to his shoulder.

"Now, now, little darling," his other hand pinches your neck and you rack with agony, "I'm just getting a feel of ya."

"Please," you beg, "why–"

"I ain't being mean, blossom," he assures you, "and I don't wanna be."

You writhe and reach back to clasp his wrist, "you're hurting me–"

"Ain't meaning to," he loosens his grip, "sorry, sweetheart, all I want is a kiss. How about that? We had a good day, didn't we?"

"I… a kiss?" You murmur, his hand linger behind your neck as his other falls to your stomach. You only realise then how he leans into you. "But…"

"But what, sweetheart? I bought you a scoop, I been real sweet like," he pets he back of your head, "it's just a little peck on the lips."

"But… but… I'm in college."

"You're full grown, sweet thing."

You look around, veins coursing with ice as you tremble wildly. You don't even know where you are. You look down at your lap and his large hand as it slips to rest on your thigh.

"I see," he drags his hand away from your pant leg, "you were only usin' me."

You frown and fold your arms across your middle. You lean on the car door and shake your head. That's not what you were doing at all.

"You asked me for ice cream, I…"

"And I paid. Got your friend home safe, too. Givin' ya a ride and all. All I'm asking is a small thank you."

You sniff and wriggle in the seat, "you touched me…"

"You look so good, I couldn't help myself, promise, I'll keep my hands to myself."

You stare at the dashboard as horror tugs at your lips. You just want to go but you don't see a way out. Not without making things worse.

"Alright, if I… will you still take me to the library?"

"Course I will. Like I said."

"Okay," you turn your head and drop your hands to clutch them in your lap, "I could… I could give you a kiss."

He smirks and pushes a lock of hair away from his face as it droops forward. He leans in as your eyes round. You force them closed and quickly peck him on the mouth.

As you pull back, he growls. You open your eyes shyly. His mouth slants and he huffs.

"Come on, darling, just… let me show ya, alright?" He grips the headrest above your head and brings his other hand to your chin, "all soft like."

He leans in as you freeze in terror. He presses his lips to yours, holding them there with a hum, his tongue gliding wetly across yours before he parts. He hovers only an inch away.

"Wasn't that nice?" He tickles your cheek.

You blink and make yourself nod. It wasn't as awful as you expected. This close, you can't help but notice how blue his eyes are.

"I get it, you're shy, we don't gotta go too fast," he sits back and sighs, lifting himself slightly as he adjusts in the seat.

"Yeah…" you babble senselessly.

"Now, uh, library, that on campus?" He asks as he shifts into gear.

"Yes, sir."

You're silent as the daze takes over. You feel his grasp on your chest, you can't shake how it made your insides churn. And the helplessness that flooded you when he had his hand on your neck.

You wring your hands and think. You can't blame him for being mad. The way you led him on, but you didn't even realise! How could you know when you thought that he was just being nice?

"Lee," you eke out as he drives in silence, his fingertips running up and down his thigh.

"Yes, little darling."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Nothing to be sorry for," he says, "don't you trouble yourself."

"I just… I didn't realise that… was the ice cream… a date?"

He laughs and his hand slips towards the inside of his thigh. You watch his profile as he peeks over at you briefly. He doesn't look as angry as he sounded just a few moments ago.

"I was hopin' so," he says, "unless you got the boys lined up waiting for you."

It's your turn to laugh, more out of embarrassment than amusement.

"No, sir, I don't," you utter.

"I'm a lucky man, then," he preens, "scooping up a blossom of my own."

[vivwritesfics]

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter One - I Hate You

Is me starting another series before my dissertation a really bad idea? Yes, yes it is (but i had the idea and I need to get it written down asap)

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.5K

Series Masterlist

"Get out of my apartment!"

In the doorway of a little two bedroom apartment in Woking was Y/N L/N. She had a bad on her back and at least three suitcases behind her. And in front of her was Lando Norris, her teammate, biggest rival and mortal enemy.

Lando stared at her, dumbfounded. "Your apartment?" He repeated, expression still shocked. "No, Zac said this one is for me."

"Then why did he give me a key for apartment 241?"

They held up the exact same set of keys on the exact same keyring. Lando let out a sigh through his nose as he pocketed his version of the key. "Somebody clearly has royally fucked up," he said and sat on the couch.

"I'm gonna call him," said Y/N as she put the key back into her pocket. She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and dialled the number of her boss.

Zac Brown had been hers and Lando's boss for the last year and few months. He'd been dealing with hers and Lando's shit from day one, ever sine they revealing the McLaren car for that year. They'd almost gotten onto a fight on the stage in front of everybody.

Zac picked up the phone in just a few rings. "How're you liking the new place?" He asked in way of hello.

"It's great, Zac. Except it comes with an annoying little prick," Y/N spat.

There was a second where Zac didn't say anything. He saw this coming, had tried to mitigate it as best he could by telling Lando he'd be getting a roommate. Of course, he didn't say who that roommate would be: that would have just been asking for trouble.

But, then again, all of this was asking for trouble. Zac had been waiting for a call from at least one of them since he got into the office (he'd hoped it would have been Lando; over the past year he'd proven himself to be easier to deal with than Y/N, who didn't back down. No matter what).

"Get yourself unpacked, I'll deal with you tomorrow," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Zac put the phone down. He didn't say goodbye to his drivers, unless it was on race days. With nowhere left to go, Y/N dragged her things into the apartment. "Where's the second bedroom?" She grumbled as she looked down at Lando.

Without looking away from the television, Lando pointed behind him. But that wasn't helpful, since there was the kitchen just behind them and then two doors. "Furthest one," he said and Y/N dragged her bags through the rest of the apartment, heading to the furthest away bedroom.

The bedroom was sizeable, with a double bed and wardrobe already inside. But, other than that, there wasn't a lot. Y/N unpacked nothing but bedding and clothes for the next day. There was no way she was staying here, not living with Lando Norris.

***

Carpooling made so much sense when going to the same place as somebody, unless you hated that person. Zac watched from his office as two cars pulled up outside of the McLaren Technology centre.

The drivers got out of the car almost in sync. They both wore sunglasses as they strode towards the doors, Y/N's glare not visible behind her sunglasses as she followed Lando inside.

Things were clearly tense between them as they walked through the office. The drivers said nothing to each other, but their expressions said enough.

Where Lando took an elevator up to Zac's office, Y/N took the stairs. She ran up them, the two of them arriving at the same time (one of them out of breath and the other smirking at her).

She took the lead as they strode into the office. "Zac," Y/N began, but the CEO held his hand.

He wasn't like other bosses, he was a cool boss. But he was still there boss and, when he held up his hand, the two knew to shut up. "Sit down," he said, leaning back in his own chair.

Y/N and Lando sat in the seats on the other side of the desk. Her leg bounced as she waited for Zac to speak and Lando had his hands shoved into his pockets. Neither of them could ever agree on anything, except the fact that they're not leaving the room until they're not living together.

Zac laced his hands together and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "You're both brilliant drivers," he began, "but you're both liabilities. You've both cost us millions because you keep trying to kill each other on the track. And your behaviour towards each other off track is bringing bad press to all of us at McLaren," he finished.

"We don't want to lose either of you as drivers, so we've come up with the brilliant plan to force you to get along."

Y/N's eyebrows were furrowed as she stared at her boss. "And if we refuse?" She asked him, placing one leg on top of the other.

"Then, we'll have to let one of both of you go. But the choice is yours."

But the choice wasn't really theirs. No matter what, they couldn't lose their seats, so they were just going to have to stick it out, suffer through it. Fuck.

The tension between the two wasn't just random. It had been brewing since their karting days. Even then they ran each other off the tracks and fought between races. Of course, back then it wasn't as big a deal.

There were way too many videos of when they were kids and they'd pushed each other off the track, gotten out of their karts and gotten into a physical fight. If they weren't so clearly talented, it would have affected their careers.

For the first few months of their Formula One careers in McLaren, the team thought they had made a mistake. If they weren't consistently in the points, Zac would have gotten rid of the both of them. But, truth be told, they were too good to let go.

So, he dangled this threat in front of them. Learn to get along or one of you is sacked. He'd thought about this hard, realised that this was the perfect threat. Y/N and Lando were so competitive that the thought of one of them losing their seat while the other thrived would have torn them apart.

"Fine," said Y/N. She stood up so quickly that the chair she was sat on, fell backwards. She quickly picked it up and rushed out of the office.

Lando said a goodbye to Zac and walked out of the office, rushing after her. He ran into the elevator just before the doors slid shut and stood beside her. They didn't look at each other, stared straight at the doors as the elevator took them down. "Sup, new roommate," he said with a smirk.

The elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open. "I hate you," Y/N said and walked out of the McLaren technology centre.

She drove her way back to the apartment in Woking in complete silence. Her grip on the steering wheel was so tight that it left imprints on her skin, on her palms and her finger tip.

How she didn't get pulled over for speeding, she'd never know. But the speed limit was the least of her concern as she made her way back to what was her new home.

But it would never be her home, not while Lando was living there.

***

Reluctantly, she unpacked her things. Hung her clothes up in her wardrobe and placed her underwear in the drawers. Y/N placed pictures of her family, pictures of her old F2 car, of her pets, of her car from the previous year up around her room. She pulled her lamp from her back and placed it on the bedside table, along with her phone, its charger, and her toiletries.

Lando had arrived home just minutes after her, but she'd already locked herself in her room. The only way they'd be able to get through this was by avoiding each other.

When her things were unpacked, Y/N sat on the bed and grabbed a book. A biography, all about the life of Enzo Ferrari. The one thing her room was missing was her sim racing rig, something her father was meant to bring up that day, but Y/N had told him to wait until she had somewhere new to live (which, we all know didn't happen. She was stuck in this apartment with Lando, whether she liked it or not).

Pressing her ear to the door, Y/N listened as Lando walked around. She waited until he walked past her room and into his own, shutting the door behind him. Only then did she walk out of her room to get herself something to eat and drink.

She could do this. All she had to do was avoid him.

Easy.

Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool

[fractalkiss]

fernando/lance #21 😘

prompt list

for the prompt "chain", and inspired by @wewentcarracing's wonderful ficlet.

-----

Fernando wouldn't say he'd been unprepared, but it's not his fault that it doesn't happen the way he'd pictured. He's discussing onboards, having replayed them with Mitch earlier, talking about pressure changes he'd felt and idly noting to himself how there's bacon strips in his grilled sandwich now; Lance had dropped by the kitchen on Wednesday, cheerful, self-satisfied. But Lawrence catches Fernando during his dinner. He gets served a plate of the smoked pastrami, asks Fernando to sit with him out on the terrace.

"I bet you all need your protein, and Lance has sort of been heckling Ben for over a year, so just put up with it," Lawrence says.

"I think we are quite happy about the menu change," Fernando replies, and Lawrence nods and smiles back at him, appropriately apologetic, polite, ominous in retrospect.

"That's good, that's very good," Lawrence continues. "There are other changes too, with Lance. And I'll just put out there that I've tried not to stick my nose too much into Lance's conditions and his training as he's grown," he goes on, while Fernando's quiet and letting him speak. "I mean, he's recovered now and it's great."

"One hundred percent, yes," Fernando agrees, his own smile feeling reflexive now. Lance has been driving as well as he can. Lance had still been in his driver's room at dinner, strangely convenient.

"I know I don't need to tell you of all people about performance," Lawrence says. "Because I've been thinking about how that shouldn't be affected by whomever my son is spending his time with, or how he spends his time with them."

"Lance has been very focused," Fernando says, honestly, but the crease in Lawrence's brow grows more pronounced.

"Yes, and it wasn't on paper for you to do anything else than help me, and maybe help look after my son here."

"I would—he has been good, with me, so I am happy to help," Fernando says, which feels like a wrong move, and he could try to bring up the damn upgrades to the car if Lawrence wanted to hear it now, but he doesn't like the feeling of how the air seems to have shrunken in on their table. Lawrence had led him out to the farthest corner from the entrance on the small terrace.

"I see him. He's happy," Lawrence says, grimly, and Fernando digs his thumb against the edge of his wine glass, steels himself in the jumping ache that stirs beneath his ribs at this, "Happier than he's been in the last however number of fucking seasons, so I'm not gonna ask."

"Did you and Lance speak, about this?"

"Not exactly. You know, Fernando—I kept Checo back when we were Racing Point because he was mature and he wasn't my son's best friend," Lawrence says.

Fernando thinks about that alternative, and of Esteban, the kind of young, easy friendship built through adolescence that'd probably be eroded and chipped at bit by bit had Lance been on the same team with him, so he supposes Lawrence did know best.

"Checo was also a married man," Lawrence says.

"Ah," Fernando replies, staring.

Lawrence continues, "Was the kind who'd have his own self-imposed curfew, y'know, wasn't going to be out partying, going to one of the yachts whenever and dragging Lance along too much—"

"Of course not," Fernando says, frowning.

—"Or buy Lance stuff either," Lawrence finishes, rubbing between his brows. "Esteban got him a necklace, you know? And Lance would wear whatever if he liked it enough, but he wore that chain thing a lot."

Fernando's voice sort of feels like gravel, but he says, steadily, "I do not think that Lance would treat his friendships lightly either."

"Oh yeah, and I almost didn't notice that he's wearing something new now. Your taste isn't bad, I will say that," Lawrence comments, a little wry, more miserable.

Fernando wasn't going to deny this. He'd pictured this talk happening in a meeting room, in Lawrence's very own office in Silverstone or something after he gets a call from his assistant so he can't decipher anything through an email invite to his calendar and the intention—it hadn't been to show off, exactly. Fernando had picked out something that was subtle, the chain thin but strong with a light tiny pearl of a ring for a pendant, something Lance could easily tuck away under his shirt during race weekends, something that wouldn't dig into his skin as much under his balaclava, or when Fernando's kissing down his throat, curling his hand over Lance's neck when Lance brings him in closer, one hand pushed up Fernando's shirt.

It kind of bothers Fernando, bringing up Checo being a married man. Checo's got a kid; maybe Lawrence is too in over his head at judging face-value that Fernando's never ever given that part of life thought in his years, that he has the impression that Fernando can just win him over by showering Lance with gifts when Fernando knows very well that's not enough, might never ever be enough.

"I like seeing Lance happy," Fernando says, keeps eye contact with Lawrence.

Lawrence nods, says, "Good."

[keepthedelta]

How can you say that a car that can finish 20 seconds ahead of 2nd place isn't a rocketship? Max was driving a rocketship when he did it, it's still a rocketship when Lando does it.

see i kind of disagree on both of those things. i think that the rb19 and max found absolute harmony between man and machine/driver and car last year. it was definitely the best car on the grid for a considerable amount of time, but it was also incredibly difficult to drive and checo really really struggled. i don't think you can put everything down to the car when max and his skill was a very essential part of red bull's success last year. if anything, i think the rb18 is a better example of a "rocketship" car because both max and checo were able to get real distance from the rest of the field. never forget checo's "let's disappear" in singapore 2022.

and yes, lando finished 22 seconds ahead in zandvoort, but that was one race at one track. one driver doing particularly well at one track is not evidence of a rocketship. zandvoort is generally a difficult track to overtake on, but if the car was that much of a rocketship oscar wouldn't have had any trouble and would have finished 2nd. but he didn't, he finished 4th, and that's not because he's a bad driver, because he's absolutely not.

as @/gayferrari pointed out in the notes, mclaren's major strength is their consistency across circuits. they are very strong regardless of the track characteristics in a way that the other 3 teams at the top simply aren't. the mclaren is the best car in the field right now, i'm not saying it's not, but i don't think it's that much better than every other car in the field. if you look at the 2014 mercedes, they were well over a second a lap faster than everyone else. they used to pull a gap over the rest of the field and then turn their engines down and still maintain a faster pace than everyone else. there were races where they lapped the entire field multiple times they were so quick. in comparison, the mclaren is nowhere near as quick (and it's not just because of the drivers, although obviously i rate lewis and nico much higher than lando and oscar).

i think people are just at a point where they want to hate mclaren and its drivers so they act like it's a vastly superior car that they're driving to excuse their wins, and to increase their losses. acting like charles is driving a broken down tractor and dragging it to 1st with the power of his pussy and catholicism like he wasn't just a couple of tenths away from pole anyway (and carlos, driving the exact same crappy piece of farm machinery was only a few thousandths behind him) makes his win more impressive and allows the people who hate mclaren and/or lando to say that it's embarrassing that they lost. i think mclaren as a team should be criticised for their strategy and team management because they are losing wins and 1-2s in the fastest car, but it's not the fastest car by that much.

[octaviareina]

Breaking my hiatus from this account because I'm emotional about all the love Charles is receiving. And as I was scrolling through all the photos and videos, I found some ecstatic and curious comments about the motivation behind Charles receiving so much love, and a certain fanaticism (Italian men, you do everything and are the best for it), some questioned why the treatment wasn't the same for the other driver, some said Michael only received this love after winning a championship, that Kimi and Seb were loved, but not at the same level as Leclerc.

Let's go, I'm not going to give a concrete explanation, because there isn't anything concrete, these feelings are hard to put into words (hence, that's why are many demonstrations with actions for him), and for different people there are different reasons, but to try to simplify, Ferrari is the dream of many drivers because it's Ferrari, you enter history just by being there, it stays on your resume, who doesn't want that, it's an addition to YOUR story. But then we have this kid, who like us from day one, dreamed, cried, searched, and desired the red, he literally imagined the factory as something magical like Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, how many of us haven't thought the same or something similar? He has a sparkle in his eyes when he talks about the red, he respects the history, he respects those who came before him, and those who are with him. He doesn't make outrageous demands, he doesn't disrespect, and he never puts himself above history, (sometimes he should), he always asks for the basics, the minimum: a fast car and support from the team, and the rest he does, and man, oh man... he does, in moments when he only has to worry about racing, he works miracles, he gives us magical moments, but always at the end of the day it was never him, it was always the team, he never wants to go beyond for himself, he always wants it for the team, he wants to go far, but he wants to bring the team along with him. And maybe it's this common love that makes him drag crowds with him, the relationship of love between Charles and the Tifosi is one of the most genuine kinds of love. There's no way to explain it, there's no way to measure it, there's no way to buy it, it's such a pure and true exchange, there are no demands, there's just a "be with us, because we're with you", and that's the thing about Charles, he's one of us, there's an understanding, a comprehension so great in the relationship, because he knows exactly what we feel. We're connected by a cause, by the passion we feel for something, by the desire to live something extraordinary and glorious. But we don't rush (although impatience hits, because we know Charles's potential), we don't throw it on him as responsibility, we just know that one day it will come, and we'll be here when it comes, we support him on difficult days, just as he's there on difficult days, as he doesn't turn his back despite the frustrations of difficult years. What driver would endure so many bad days, without venting their frustrations, or taking on so many responsibilities that most of the time aren't even theirs?

Charles has this inviting aura, a glow of his own that lights up wherever he goes, that's why he's the sun of Maranello, and the il predestinato, there are so many things about him, and at the same time we lack words to explain this relationship... But in the end it's not necessary, he knows why we're here, and we know why we support him, in the end, it's the sharing and understanding of emotions, loving something in common that unites us. You just have to be a fan of Charles to understand, no matter what happens he has us, and that's why he never drives alone.

Ps: none of this photos are mine, I just save a thousand from everywhere, so... credit to the owners.

[forzafinally]

What was it that made you a Charles fan last year?

Hey! So my first exposure to F1 was through a few friends here who were very much into F1 and big Lewis fans. I didn't really know anything about Charles till I watched DTS in August I think because I was curious about what the whole hype was about.

The last season they had shown on DTS back then was 2022 and as sensationalised as the whole thing might have been, I was actively rooting for Charles to win the WDC while watching the show. I really liked his passion towards racing and the whole mythos surrounding Ferrari as a team. It seemed like something that was genuinely worth rooting for.

So then I checked the results of the latest race around that time which was Monza. I was hoping that Ferrari has finally got their shit together. As they were in contention for the WDC last year, I assumed that they would have learnt from their mistakes and built a car that was able to challenge Red Bull as they obviously had the technology and skills to build a car that was fast. Charles had come P4 iirc and I was like maybe that isn't so bad after all. But then I checked the results of the rest of the season and well, we all know how that went lol.

Singapore 23 was the first F1 race that I ever watched and I think that a Ferrari win gave me slightly unrealistic expectations about how competitive they could be. However, that race was also a Ferrari strategy disasterclass and I was just sitting there wondering how the hell Charles was staying with a team that couldn't handle two drivers being competitive at the same time.

Over the rest of the season I watched Charles drag the SF-23 to the front row multiple times and that was something that was impressive to me. Yes he wasn't able to match the Red Bulls in racepace. But even coming P1 in qualy is something that isn't easy. I can't imagine Max not wanting to start P1 even if he knows he has better race pace and can make up the positions later in the race. And it wasn't like Carlos was able to get the same results from the car.

Multiple people say that Max is what makes the difference as a driver in Red Bull, it's not just the car. Similarly it is Charles who was making the difference in Ferrari and not Carlos. The funny thing is that he was getting absolutely slaughtered for it by the media which is just?????? Any other driver was being hailed as a miracle for being able to challenge Max at all but when it was Charles it was somewhat taken to be a foregone conclusion. The bias was astounding.

Las Vegas as a race genuinely impressed me not just because Charles came P2 but his attitude throughout the entire race. Despite the fact that Max had won the championship at that time he still wanted to win the race and I don't think it was just wishful thinking on his part - he genuinely believed that he could win it. Looking at other driver's interviews throughout the season, I always got a sense of inevitability. That no matter what they do it's going to be Max who wins. Also if Max would overtake them once over the race it was over. Not many people would think they could challenge him again. But in Vegas, Charles kept trying multiple times and it was that tenacity that impressed me. He didn't settle for P3. He overtook Max just before he pitted the first time and overtook Checo on pure race pace on the last corner and that is something that showed me that he was a driver worth rooting for because he's not afraid to take that extra risk.

Also, in one of the end of the season interviews a reporter asked him how it felt to finish ahead of his teammate and his answer was that none of it mattered if he wasn't finishing first in the WDC. Now that's what a winning mentality is. I don't know how anyone can say that he's not serious about being a world champion when he keeps saying things like that.

Also, Charles also seemed to be a genuine team player with how he was trying his best to help get Ferrari P2 in constructors last year. To me it did showcase a fair amount of maturity and growth and being selfless enough to look out for the team instead of just himself as an individual.

Also all the fan interactions that I would see on social media were overwhelmingly positive which is a huge green flag in my books because at the end of the day not all celebrities are kind to their fans. But Charles always seemed to make an active effort to be polite and kind and just not take that love for granted if you know what I mean? Lastly, it's obvious that his fellow drivers respect him so much. He's someone who is considered to be both a safe and fast racer which isn't something that you see a lot.

Ultimately, he's a tiofoso and a Ferrari driver who wants to win the championship and I think that's something that's worth supporting. I also don't think he's just blindly loyal to the team and it's all just emotion. He has been firm enough to put his foot down where it actually matters like getting Fred at TP and classy enough to not be messy in the media. 26 is not old enough to even consider him being washed. Ferrari has given him one of the longest contracts ever for a reason. And I personally don't think he has reached his full potential as a driver yet. I can't wait to see what happens when he does. So yes the season as a whole wasn't the best for Charles but I see great potential in him and I intend to stick around to see him live up to it :)