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twirlyleafs · 2 months ago

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Finally

Lando Norris x McLaren worker! Reader

Summary: McLaren won. The 2024 seasons has come to an end and McLaren won the championship. You and Lando find yourselves at the team party, reminiscing about the grueling past year.

Notes: I needed some time to collect myself bc my team fucking won and I’ve been on cloud nine. Here’s a dream I had lol.

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The McLaren headquarters buzzed with conversations and laughter. The larger party, with sponsors and media, was still a few hours away and for the moment you just enjoyed being surrounded by the team. Your team. After a season like this it felt deserved to really celebrate. McLaren had clinched the Constructors Championship in the final race, both Oscar and Lando had secured their first wins and Lando had managed to claim a second place in the drivers championship. The journey had been nothing short of incredible and as one of Mclarens leading strategists you couldn’t be prouder. Adding the fact that you were, outside of your roll on the McLaren team, also girlfriend of their golden boy Mr. Lando Norris you were also filled with a sense of pride for him that you couldn’t even begin to describe. You and Lando had been together for almost three years now, you’d only worked at McLaren for a few months when he asked you out and since then the two of you had been more or less inseparable.

Now you stood near at display of trophies, chatting with some of the mechanics about the highs and lows of the season. Lando was across the large hall, deep in conversation with Andrea Stella and a few others. Even from where you stood you could see the giant grin on his face as his hands waves around animatedly. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to keep your distance at work gatherings, even though everyone on the team knew about your relationship. It had, however, taken them more than a year to figure it out since you and Lando always made an effort to remain professional during work hours. Now, though, with the season wrapped up and the stakes momentarily lowered there was an ease in the air, a sense of relief that made everything seem lighter. You caught Landos gaze across the room and for a moment the buzz around you faded. His eyes held yours, soft and full of unspoken emotion, until he was eventually pulled back to his conversation. The warm of his gaze lingered even as he directed his attention elsewhere and you couldn’t help but smile.

Barely a few seconds later your attention was pulled to the stage, the sound of a crackling microphone and the clinking off glass filling the room. You and the others let out soft laughs as you laid eyes on Zac Brown, wide smile on his face and a champagne flute in hand.

”Alright, alright let’s settle down.” His tone was light but commanding, like so often he had a way of making everyone actually want to listen. ”I will keep this short because I know we have a long night ahead of us with different, quite honestly, boring speeches but I just felt I needed to take a moment.” The room broke into murmurs of agreement and soft applause before falling silent again. Zac took a deep breath. ”What a season. Wow. What a year, huh? Two first-time race winners, the championship, Lando coming in second in the drivers…we have- you have all worked your asses off and it’s together we’ve made this possible. This team is something so special and it’s all thanks to you. All of you.” As Zac spoke you felt a shift behind you and then the familiar warmth of a chest against your back. You didn’t need to turn around, not when he so naturally found your hips, pressing his fingers into your soft skin as you relaxed back against him. Lando brushed his lips against the top of your head, a fleeting yet tender gesture that had your heart swell. For a moment you forgot to listen to Zac, your focus only on the grounding warmth of Lando behind you. Your haze snapped back up to the man on the stage when he shifted tone.

”And to Lando and Oscar,” he raised his glass and you couldn’t help but smile when you felt Lando inhale deeply. ”You two have made history this year. You’ve both grown so much and will continue to do so. The future is bright, papaya bright, and I can’t wait to see where it takes us.” Cheers erupted from the whole team and you too raised your hands to applaud. Some people whistled loudly, others shouted celebrations, and you simply enjoyed it. As it all slowly died down Zac spoke again, this time the proud grin on his face replaced by a mischievous smile. ”Before we get back to celebrating I have just one thing I want to show you, a small video our PR-team has worked on that will only be shown in this room. This is for you, the team, and only for you. Enjoy.” As he stepped back the whole room dimmed and curious murmurs swept through it. The bright McLaren logo appeared briefly on the large screen before it transitioned into a montage of clips from the season. Laughter rippled through the crowd as the first few moments showed Oscar and Lando engaging in a ridiculous game of rock-paper-scissors that somehow turned into a wrestling match. More pranks were shown, like hidden helmets and jump scares. There was one clip of one of the mechanics, Teddy, hiding behind a stack of tyres before jumping forward to scare you and your colleague. Lando laughed loudly when he saw the way you screamed on the screen. You smiled too, shaking your head at the memory of the endless pranks, but you also focused on the subtle shifts in Lando now. The way his body vibrated with chuckles and how his grip on your hips tightened from time to time. Once or twice he dropped his forehead to the top of yours, hiding away in embarrassment. The next clip was from the weekend in Brazil, showing a bunch of McLaren employees running around in the rain before zooming in on you. You were stood hiding under an awning, arms wrapped around yourself and headset slightly askew. The pout on your face suddenly melted into a warm smile and a second later Lando came into frame, hurriedly making his way in under the safety of the awning. You felt Landos fingers press into your skin, his lips brushing the top of your head as the video showed him steal a quick kiss from you before handing you a steaming cup of what you remembered was hot chocolate he had stolen from the Ferrari hospitality.

”I didn’t know they caught that.” You felt his hushed words behind you, smiling sheepishly at the people around you offering teasing grins. Suddenly the mood of the video shifted, transitioning to show Miami. Landos first win. He tensed behind you and as the roar of the crowd in the room mirrored those shown on the video you could practically feel the pride radiating of him. As you all rewatched him cross the finish line his grip on you loosened and you knew he was thinking back on that day. You couldn’t help but do too, mind beginning to wander. That weekend had been a blur of tension and triumph, of long hours and high stakes, of watching him push himself to the limit and come out victorious. You remembered the way the garage erupted in cheers, the way he’d stumbled into your arms afterward, his helmet still on, his voice cracking with disbelief. Your chest tightened as you thought back on everything leading up to that moment. The late nights spent together, just you, him and the data. All the fights you had when he was being stubbornly hard on himself or all the times you celebrated the small victories together. Your vision blurred as the pride you felt for him settled in your whole body and you blinked rapidly to try and keep the tears at bay. The video on the big screen moved on to show Oscars first win too but you barely even registered it. Not until you felt Lando lean down, lips close to your ear.

”Do you remember-” he began with a soft smile, voice low enough for only you to hear, but paused. He noted the way your hand swept across your cheek and the way you blinked a little too much and he couldn’t help his smile widening. ”Are you- baby are you crying?”

”It’s the music, okay?” You sniffed, letting out a soft chuckle as you did so. ”And it’s been a big year.”

”Uh-huh.” Lando murmured teasingly, although you were pretty sure you heard his own voice waver a bit too.

”Shut up Lan.”

”Hey, you’re allowed to cry.” He grinned, fingers on your hips pressing enough for you to know he wanted you to turn around. You did so barely halfway, leaning your cheek against his chest but kept your eyes train on the screen. Lando hummed, wrapping his arms around you and placing a couple of kisses against the top of your head. He was quiet for a few moments before he whispered again, the grin on his lips loud in his voice. ”I might start crying too.”

”Shut. Up. Lando.” You tried to sound stern but couldn’t help but giggle, poking your finger in his side. The video eventually wound down with some final clips from last years end of the seasons party, more or less exactly a year ago. As the music faded out the whole screen showed a large picture taken in the same room you were all standing in now, the whole team grinning up towards the camera. Your eyes scanned the photo and you let out a small huff when you found what you were looking for. Somewhere in the front, off a bit to the side, were you and Lando. He was behind you, arms wrapped around you body more or less like now, and chin resting on your head.

”Deja vu, huh?” Lando murmured softly, hand stroking up and down you back, and you exhaled contently. The screen faded to black and Zacs voice filled the room again, thanking everybody for watching and wishing you a nice evening. The room once again burst into applause and cheers but you stayed still, tucked against Landos chest, feeling all the stress and pressure from this season finally fading away.

”Come on.” Your eyes fluttered open as Lando leaned down to whisper in your ear. ”Let’s run away.” You gave him a curious look, tilting your chin up. His signature smile and the glint in his eye was impossible to resist and you let him thread his fingers through yours, quickly but discreetly steering you towards the nearest exit. No one stopped you, most of the team still caught up in conversations and laughter, leaving the two of you to slip away unnoticed. The cool evening air greeted you as Lando led you out on one of the balconies overlooking the large lake. It was still quiet, the guests for the larger party hadn’t started arriving yet, and the clicking of your heels was the only sound being heard. Lando let you go as you walked up to the railing, slowing down to watch you for a moment. The sleek fabric of your dress shimmered slightly in the low light from the windows and you smoothed it down as you turned to face him, leaning back against the railing. You eyed him as he made his way closer, pursing your lips as he stopped just infront of you.

”What are your intentions, Mr. Norris? Stealing me away like this?”

”Oh, only bad intentions. As usual.” He hummed, fingers trailing over yours hips and up your waist. They stopped just on the side of your chest, pausing before trailing down again. When his eyes met yours his expression softened. ”I just figured we deserved a moment to ourselves. It’s been a hectic year.” You smiled up at him, eyes watching the way his curls moved slightly in the breeze before flickering down to meet his.

”Hectic is one word. Crazy is another.”

”I know I’ve said it before, but baby I really couldn’t have done it without you.” His expression softened, grip on your waist tightening. ”This season, everything…it wouldn’t have been the same without you. I don’t even know if I would’ve survived without you-”

”Don’t say that.”

”But it’s true.” He shook his head, a small self-deprecating smile on his lips. ”Honestly. On-track, off-track- just, I always need you.”With a pout you reached up to cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his skin in a way that had him close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again you could see all the emotions swirling in them. Relief, content, love.

”I wouldn’t have survived this season without you either, you know. I always need you.” Those words had Lando finally slip his arms around you, stepping impossibly closer. He dipped his head, forehead resting against yours for a moment before he leaned in to connect your lips. The kiss wasn’t hurried or heated, just a quiet declaration of love. When he eventually pulled back his green eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

”I love you.”

”Good, I was starting to worry-” you began, voice teasing as your hands snaked in under his suit jacket. Lando didn’t let you finish, fingers pressing into your sides hard enough for you to yelp.

”Don’t be a brat now that we were having such a nice moment.” He murmured, making you giggle and lean in closer, brushing your lips against his.

”I love you too.”

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asunflowerana · 6 months ago

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𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐡𝐢𝐦?

summary: their sister got a new boyfriend, and unfortunately for them, they already know the guy.

with: teiko team and Kagami.

n: remastered prompt, with a brother x boyfriend model (which i thought was really fun to do it haha). Let me know if you guys liked it, hope you all enjoy it!

⊛ akashi seijuro x midorima shintaro

Seijuro’s actually pleased by the surprise. He knows his former teammate pretty well, so he won't have problems trusting him to take care of you and treat you well, as you deserve.

Not only he found it pleasing, but also amusing. It's not every day that your sister decides to date such a confident, stubborn guy, which makes things a bit more interesting for him as the big brother.

“Midorima-kun. What a nice surprise.” The red-haired cordially extends his hand to the new family's addition, wearing a subtle smirk while gazing at him with his piercing, red pupils. Midorima isn't a fool to trust these eyes. “I have a feeling we’ll have a good time together, won't we?

⊛ aomine daiki x kagami taiga

“You've got to be kidding...” It’s the first thing that comes out of Daiki's mouth, looking at your new, moron boyfriend. As if it isn't good enough to deal with him at the championships, now in his personal life too? With his sister? Alright, where're the cameras? 'Cause he's having no fun with this prank.

let's face it, Aomine will make Taiga's life very difficult from now on: expect a lot of bickering and growling at each other every time they're together. However, if he's being honest, Daiki’s actually relieved that your new boyfriend is someone as upstanding and honorable as Taiga; he wouldn’t want you to date someone who doesn't treat you well. So, even though he’s an imbecile (which, yes, he is, and a lot), he's also kinda... trusty. He won't ever say that out loud, though.

“Okay, fine... I can accept this." He points at you both, discontent but not wanting you sad for not having his support. "but you better leave me out of the sappy romance of yours. Too much to sleep at night."

⊛ midorima shintaro x kise ryota

Midorima's already someone difficult to win, especially to a guy who wants to date his sister. So regardless of their past, with Kise it won't be any different; in fact, it'll be worse, due to Kise’s cocky and overly charming personality, unpleasant to the green-haired boy.

Kise isn’t so bad as a person, thoug. Smug, overwhelming, sometimes futile? yes. But he can't deny he also has a good heart. For your happiness, he'll make an effort. The blonde better be prepared for what comes for him, though.

“You really have a bad taste in men.” He bluntly tells you, quickly getting on Kise's nerves, to his delight. Before any of you can protest, he continues. “But he’s not as dumb as the others, so I can deal with him. For now.”

⊛ kise ryota x murasakibara atsushi

“You're kidding, right?” Kise can't help but cackle, bewildered by the news. Not even in his wildest dream did he see something like that happening. You, his baby sister, dating this giant child? It's too much to actually be real. “Murasakibara-chi, you spend all your money on candy, how will you treat my sister that way?”

He honestly doesn’t get what you saw in Murasaki. The lad is lazy, whine at everything, gets easily bored, and probably has more cavities in his teeth than fingers. How can that be attractive?

It'll take a while, but Kise'll eventually notice Atsushi's qualities as a boyfriend. Definitely, he isn't the ideal guy he was planning for you, but you're his world, and that's what matters in the end for Kise.

⊛ murasakibara atsushi x akashi seijuro

Atsushi's fine with the news. He actually noticed the way you and Akashi slowly grew close to each other. He has a lot of respect for him, confident that he’s the best person to take care of his sister and give her a good future. If it were up to him, you might even marry sooner than planned.

“Seijuro-kun, you're _____'s new boyfriend?” He rewinds, asking no one in specific. Akashi offers him a nod, with a small smile on his face while holding your hand. The purple-haired boy scratches his chin, unfazed but internally pleased. “Well, I think this is good news.”

⊛ kagami taiga x aomine daiki

“Please tell me this is a joke.” Kagami practically begs you, hating the teasing smirk Daiki wears on his face, bothering his future brother-in-law. You shake your head, and Kagami loses his freaking mind. “Of so many people in the world, why him? Like, there's our neighbor Koshi that helps you with groceries when I'm out, or that nice barista that gives you heart eyes everytime we're there. Heck, you could even date a mobster, for good's sake, just not him! What is so attractive about him? No, actually, I don’t want to know. I need to keep the rest of my sanity intact.”

As you can notice, Kagami was quite affected by your new relationship. And with Aomine nagging him constantly, it got even harder for him not to just jump in Daiki's throat. But with time, the two will learn how to deal with each other, especially since Aomine’s clearly making you happy. He can be a moron, but at least he’s doing his job right.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated. 💕

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no-144444 · 4 months ago

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losing battle- l.stroll

Day 10 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: it's a marriage of convenience that's becoming pretty inconvenient when you start falling for your best friend.

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Lance Stroll was 2 things, powerful, and a mess. His driving was messy, his bedroom was messy, his house was messy, his relationship was messy, but most of all, his entire life was messy. After a very public split with the woman he’d been dating for literal years, he fell deeper and deeper into racing, somehow cleaning up his act and not acting like a paid seat driver. He was good. The car was good. Podiums were a regular thing for both him and Fernando. Wins were becoming a regular thing for Fernando, and Lance had a few more under his belt. Not only that, but they were finally fighting for the championships, and Fernandio had won his third last season, it was Lance’s turn now, and he was making the most of it. Everything was great.

The only issue? Lance was now boring in the media’s eyes. He had no scandals, no girlfriend, no family drama (well…?), nothing. He was a perfectly polite, perfectly fine, all-round good person. That wasn’t enough for the press. Every race, the same questions got asked; “are you dating anyone?” “who’s the special lady in your life?” “are you hiding a wife from us?”

He wanted it to stop. That’s where you came in. His sweet, kind, best friend since childhood. You’d been to races over the years, you’d been seen with him, you were gorgeous, the fans loved you, most importantly, Lance loved you, as a friend anyway.

“So I have to marry you?” You gawked at Lance as he set the contracts out in front of you. “And then we act like a couple until…?” “Until the press gets off my back and I can say we amicably divorced and stayed friends,” he explained.

“And this is a good idea because…?”

“It’s been 4 years since me and ‘she-who-must-not-be-named’ broke up, people wouldn’t just believe me and you got together like 3 years ago and we’re still just ‘together’-”

“And why not?” you questioned.

“I honestly don’t know these were just the points my dad wrote out for me to say,” he shrugged. “Please help me out?”

You sighed, how bad could it be?. “Fine, but you owe me.”

“Excellent!” Lawrence beamed, startling the both of you. “Now, we should talk about certain things- children?”

“No way,” you answered firmly. “No way,” he answered firmly.

You both burst into fits of laughter and Lawerence ended up leaving, knowing there was no stopping you two. Well, you were a wife now, and a WAG.

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lancestroll

liked by pierregasly, logansargeant, and 3,837,231 others

lancestroll happy anniversary baby :)

comments

fernandoalonso: my favourites!

user45: he kept this REAL quiet

user33: what. the. fuck.

alexandriastleux: can't wait to meet her!

user42: MY CHANCE IS GONE? -> user99: girl what chance he's a billionaire.

georgerussell: I WASN'T INVITED? -> lancestroll: no one was lol. just family -> georgerussell: I CAN BE FAMILY

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It could be very bad. Very, very bad.

By age 25, you would’ve thought that you’d gotten over your childhood crush on Lance, but no. It was rampant every time he so much as looked in your direction. He was sweet, kind, funny, and so nice. He made an effort to include you in things, invited you to galas and dinners with the team, he’d lean over and kiss you randomly, take your hand, smile at you, kiss you before he got in the car, wink at you from the podium, kiss you when he got out of the car.

He was fucking perfect, for no fucking reason.

You sat beside Lawrence as he chatted about the race, Canada, Lance’s home race. You listened attentively and didn’t notice Lance coming up behind you, and your brain short-circuited when he kissed you on the head and wrapped his arms around you, making your eyes widen and your skin heat. It was always like this, any time he touched you, you felt it. Everywhere.

Lawrence laughed. “You don’t have to pretend here, there’s no cameras.”

Lance’s hands fell away and you immediately missed them. He sat down beside you on the couch and smiled at you, whispering a ‘hello’.

“Sometimes I think you two aren’t even acting. You’d think you were really in love,” Lawrence chuckled.

“Alright dad,” Lance scoffed. “What were you two talking about before?”

“Just Canada in general, chatting about the house and stuff,” you shrugged. You and Lance had just bought your first house together and were finally moving in after months of it being renovated. Being ‘married’ to Lance was easy, simple, nice even. It was literally living with your best friend, which worked well for the two of you.

“Where are we going tonight if you win?” Lawrenece asked, a sly smirk on his face.

“Out,” Lance shrugged with a grin.

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He’d done it. He’d won his fucking home race. You celebrated with him at the parc fermé and cheered as he stood on the podium, proudly singing along to his national anthem. He’d won.

Once his media duties were done and he was showered and not smelling like champagne, out on the town you went. Clubs, pubs, bars, it didn’t matter, the night flew away from you as the drinks flowed and the energy buzzed.

It was in some random club where Landio had befriended the DJ when Lance bumped into you again.

“Hi!” he shouted over the music, clearly drunk.

“Hi,” you smiled back, a little bit more sober.

“You look beautiful tonight, y-you look beautiful every night,” he smiled.

Your heart swelled. “Oh yeah? Even when I have my snoring tape on?” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Even then.”

Suddenly you were very sober, and you had to get out of there. You couldn’t just be fake anymore, it wouldn’t work. You loved him, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you loved him. “I-I’m going to go-”

“Don’t run away from me,” he pleaded. “I want to talk about it- about us.”

“In the middle of the dance floor in a club?” you questioned. “Come with me.”

He nodded and grabbed your hand, leading the way to the exit. Your heart was pounding. Maybe he’d found someone else? Maybe he was done with you? Maybe he hated you? Maybe-

“I love you,” he rushed out. “I love our life together, I love waking up to you, I love eating breakfast, and lunch, and dinner with you. I love cooking with you, I love movie nights with you, I love talking to you, I love being with you. I love kissing you and holding your hand, and being able to touch you whenever I want to. I fucking hate the fact that this all started with something fake, and it makes me feel like shit that our ‘wedding’ was the both of us signing a sheet of paper, but I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

You stopped moving, stopped thinking, stopped breathing. This wasn’t real, this was your mind playing tricks on you, this was a joke, this wasn’t-

“Please respond,” he begged.

“I love you too,” you instinctively said. “I love all those things too.”

His worried face broke into a soft smile, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

Well, so much for fake.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

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verstappenf1lecccc · 10 months ago

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hiya could you write something with Charles x reader where they get into a fight and he then gives her the silent treatment for a few days she tried to talk to him but he blanks her, she eventually cracks a few days later cause she thinks he doesn’t love her anymore and gets really upset infronto of him. But they do make up in the end make it angsty but with lots of fluff and makeup..

Invisible

thank you for this ask!! I love for angst hope you like this first part!!

3,797 Characters 693 Words 🎀

"Prick," the word flew so fast out of your mouth, it almost made you take a double take. You've never been one for profanities; your mother once heard a loud "fuck" come out of your lips and had soaped the hell out of your mouth. So when you did curse, Charles knew it was serious. It had been a week after Charles had revealed that he had decided to renew his contract with the Scuderia, safe to say, you were disappointed.

You've spent the entire winter break trying to convince Charles to move to Red Bull; this didn’t come out of thin air, it came out of Horner offering Charles a seat for the next season, to which Charles had hurriedly said, "I’ll think about it." As his wife, you really were concerned for his well-being and career. The Scuderia was not where it should be or where it was with the likes of Kimi or Michael. You just wanted Charles to have the opportunity to display his true talent. Especially after hearing Fred calling him a "washed-out nepo baby," your blood was boiling since you've heard that. Being with Charles was something you'd never thought you'd be capable of, but with years of convincing and efforts made by him, you couldn’t hold back and fell deeply and madly in love with him.

This was what ignited the first major fight in your relationship. A simple comment that you had made had pissed Charles off; he couldn’t understand why his wife, of all people did not get why he wanted to stay with Ferrari. It was more than a job for him; it was his whole existence.

He wanted to win a championship with Ferrari for Herve and for Jules more than anything. Your comment on how you thought his goal was unachievable with the team made him wonder if you doubted his moves and, most importantly, doubted him. Charles was never a yeller; he was always silent whenever you both had disagreements, always making sure you got your point across before he started. He was never a bad communicator, always making sure he didn’t make you feel less than or below him. But the Charles in this argument was not like the perfect husband he prides himself in being. This Charles was a proper prick, probably the worst he’s ever been. You knew you had done something to upset him; you could tell from how fast he drove the car, how white his knuckles were, how he didn’t even spare you a glance as you got in the car, how he didn’t remind you to wear your seatbelt, and most importantly, how sharply his jaw was clenching. You knew you were in for a huge fight; you were just wondering what you had said or done to make him this pissed. The car rolled to a halt; Charles had just uttered his first words of the night, "go up", no mon angel, no love at the end of his sentence, just blunt words filled with bitter emotion. You hurried up the stairs, almost tripping over your dress, the dress you wore for him. When Charles finally entered the bedroom, he failed to notice your slightly shaking figure or your red eyes; all he saw when he saw you was failure. He’d walked right past you, almost as if you were a wall; he knew what he was doing, he knew that you hated arguments but hated the silent treatment even more, it reminded you of your childhood and of never knowing what you were doing wrong to upset your mother. That night the bed felt cold, even though you both were sleeping in it, the bed lacked the cuddles and warmth that emitted from the kisses you both often shared. It felt wrong; you tried to move towards your husband but you felt him move away, that was all it took for you to softly cry into your pillow. You felt like your whole marriage was crumbling right before your eyes and you could do nothing to fix it. All because your husband had decided that you were invisible.

#charles leclerc x wife reader #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #mafia!charles leclerc #charles leclerc #formula 1 #dad!charles leclerc #mafia!f1

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oofthwoods · 11 months ago

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PROLOGUE! ── ˙ ̟ bring home the glory !!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: how heavy is the weight of a legacy, and what would you do to protect it? to you, legacy means the formula one team bearing your family name. as a child, you eagerly tagged along with your mother to races, sharing laughs with the engineers and mechanics, and being lifted into the air in triumph after every win. yet as time passed, those moments became fewer and farther between, and before you knew it, the once-legendary team was now scraping by at the back of the pack. in your final visit with your grandfather before he passed away, you made a promise to him: you would drive for the team that he and your grandmother poured their blood, sweat, and tears into, and you would restore glory to the williams surname, whatever it takes.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: new series!! so excited for this one. tell my your thoughts, and if you want to be added to a taglist <3

masterlist next ‭→

MOTORSPORT ARTICLE: WILLIAMS' LINE-UP FINALLY REVEALED.

In a groundbreaking move for both motorsport and gender equality, Williams Racing has announced the signing of Y/N Williams as one of their drivers for the 2024 Formula One season. With this move, Williams becomes the first female driver to secure a seat in Formula One in more than forty-five years, marking a significant milestone in the sport's history.

The decision to bring Y/N Williams on board comes on the heels of her remarkable performance in the Formula 2 championship in 2023. In only her second year competing in the series, Y/N clinched the championship title, showcasing her exceptional talent and determination on the track. Her impressive season saw her clinch multiple victories and podium finishes, solidifying her status as one of the most promising young drivers in the sport.

For Williams Racing, the decision to sign Y/N Williams represents a bold step towards revitalizing the team's fortunes on the track. Following a challenging season in 2023, marred by inconsistent performances and disappointing results, the team is eager to usher in a new era of success with fresh talent at the helm.

The announcement of Y/N Williams as a Williams Racing driver also comes with a reshuffling of the team's lineup. In an expected move, Logan Sargeant, who had been part of the team since the previous season, will step down from his role as a full-time driver. However, Sargeant will remain with the team in a new capacity, serving as a reserve and simulator driver, lending his experience and expertise to support the team's development efforts.

The news has sparked a flurry of reactions from fans and pundits alike. While many have hailed it as a historic moment for gender equality in motorsport, others have expressed skepticism, questioning whether swapping one rookie for another will indeed bring about the transformative change the team needs.

Some voices within the Formula One community have raised concerns about the pressure and scrutiny she may face as the first female driver in the sport in several years. Yet, amidst the debates and uncertainties, there remains a palpable sense of excitement and anticipation surrounding her debut season.

As the countdown to the 2024 Formula One season begins, all eyes will be on Y/N Williams as she prepares to make her mark on the world's most prestigious racing stage.

y/nwilliams

liked by clairewilliams_official, alex_albon, and 257,174 others

y/nwilliams a williams in williams. is there anything more perfect than that?

view all 9,245 comments

williamsracing we don't think so, y/n! welcome aboard.

y/nwilliams thank uuu 🥺

user1 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

user2 the first woman with a seat in more than 40 years in the team that was basically created by a woman? this one is for the history books ladies and gents

-> liked by y/nwilliams

francolapinto congrats! excited to see you in f1.

-> liked by y/nwilliams

user3 watch as she crashes more than sargeant 🤣🤣

usern4 her surname is williams? as in the williams?

user5 yep. daughter of claire williams, granddaughter of frank and ginny williams. user6 so she's lance stroll but with panties.

user7 is she actually good? williams can't keep hiring random rookies and expecting great results...

user8 she won f2 with carlin in her second year, so i'd assume she is great

alex_albon welcome to the family!

user10 i didn't think i'd live long enough to see a woman competing in f1

©️ oofthwoods — 2024.

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hero21us · 2 months ago

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What’s Wrong with Trey?

Trey had always been a star. A record-setting sprinter with dreams of Olympic gold, his relentless drive and focus made him a leader both on and off the track. But over the past week, something had changed.

It started innocuously enough. Trey received a package from "009," a cutting-edge sportswear company known for its experimental technology. The first few outfits were nothing short of miraculous. They improved his agility, boosted his endurance, and even seemed to quicken his recovery time. Trey’s performance skyrocketed, and he began to feel unstoppable.

The final item in the package, however, was different. A sleek black Fred Perry rubber polo shirt. Its material glistened in the light, and Trey hesitated before putting it on. But the promise of unparalleled performance pushed his doubts aside. The moment he pulled it over his head, he felt a surge of power, as though every muscle in his body was primed for greatness.

Trey became obsessed with the shirt. He wore it everywhere, not just to workouts but to meetings, social gatherings, and even to sleep. He was convinced that the shirt was the key to his newfound success, and he wanted everyone to experience the same benefits. He began to preach about the virtues of wearing rubber for all activities, especially the black "Fred Perry" shirt.

“You don’t understand,” he’d tell his friends, his voice oddly distant. “This shirt… it’s transformative. You should all try it. Imagine the unity we’d achieve if everyone embraced it.”

Trey began skipping practice, missing workouts, and obsessing over the shirt. His usual vibrant personality became subdued, his conversations revolving solely around the virtues of rubber clothing, particularly the black Fred Perry polo.

His teammates, Sam and Jordan, grew increasingly concerned and decided to intervene. They headed to his apartment after a missed practice, hoping to get through to him. Trey’s apartment was filled with rubber garments, all of them untouched. It was clear: the black polo had a hold on him that no other item did.

"Trey, we're worried about you," said his best friend, Sam. "You've been acting differently ever since you started wearing that shirt. We miss the old you."

Trey's eyes lit up with a zeal that made his friends uneasy. "You don't understand," he insisted. "This shirt is amazing. It’s like it has a power of its own. You should all try it!" Sam and Jordan started bringing up memories from Trey's past, reminding him of all the milestones he had achieved without the rubber shirt. "Remember when you broke the school record for the 400 meters? Or that time you led the team to victory at the state championships?"

Jordan showed him pictures from those glorious moments, each one a testament to his dedication and hard work.

Sam chimed in, "You didn't need any special gear back then. It was all you—your talent, your effort. Don't let this shirt define you or make you lose sight of your dreams."

They questioned him about his ambitions, gently reminding him of his goals and aspirations. "Trey, you used to talk about winning gold, about going to the Olympics. Don't give up on those dreams," Sam urged. “You just won this trophy which qualifies you for the Olympic trials in a few months.”

For a moment, Trey’s eyes softened. He reached for the trophy, his hand trembling. A flicker of the old him seemed to emerge as he touched the trophy. “I… I remember that,” he murmured, his voice unsteady. “But it feels so distant now.” But then his expression hardened, and he pulled back, the black rubber catching the faint light as if to remind them of its presence.

“I haven’t abandoned anything,” Trey said, his voice eerily calm. “This shirt is my path now. You’ll see. You’ll all see.”

Sam and Jordan, saw the momentary struggle etched across his face. Determined not to lose him, they decided to take matters into their own hands. They each took hold of the rubber shirt, pulling with all their might.

What followed was a frantic, desperate battle. Trey fought them with a strength neither of them had ever seen before. It was as though the shirt amplified his power, giving him near-superhuman endurance. Sam and Jordan wrestled with him, trying to get a grip on the slick, rubbery material, but it clung to Trey’s body as if it were alive.

“Hold him still!” Jordan shouted, grabbing at the collar of the polo.

“I’m trying!” Sam grunted, locking Trey in a bear hug.

"Come on, Trey! Remember who you are!" Sam shouted, his voice breaking through the fog.

"You've achieved so much without this shirt," Jordan added.

Trey’s resistance was feral, his movements almost inhuman.

Sweat dripped from their foreheads as they pulled and tugged, their determination unwavering. The shirt seemed to resist with an almost sentient force, but their combined effort began to make a difference. Little by little, the rubber gave way, inching off Trey's body.

Trey let out a guttural scream, his eyes wild with fear and rage.

With a final, collective effort, the shirt tore away, falling to the ground. Trey gasped, feeling a rush of relief and freedom wash over him.

As Trey’s breathing slowed, his friends knelt beside him. “Trey? Are you okay?” Sam asked. He nodded weakly, tears streaming down his face. “I’m… I’m free. Thank you.”

“Here put this shirt and jacket on to stay warm” Jordan insists.

The friends helped Trey put on a shirt and his gold jacket for warmth

“What was that thing?” Jordan asked, glancing nervously at the shirt laying nearby on the floor.

Trey sat up, his expression haunted. “It wasn’t the shirt. There was… more. Every night, I was compelled to wear a gas mask that came with it. The fumes—it was like they rewired my brain.

The black rubber polo empowered me, gave me focus, intensity, synchronization and clarity to help the team to win, but the gas… it truly corrupted me. It made me a part of something bigger, something I couldn’t resist.

"Every night, I was instructed to wear the gas mask. The gas treatments were intoxicating, making it harder and harder to act normal. I was told to spread the love of rubber and polo while appearing to remain my old self, to bring others into the fold. But each day, I could feel myself slipping further away from who I was. The team became irrelevant. I could no longer pretend. Being one with the collective and increasing its numbers consumed me.

Sam shuddered. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I couldn’t. It wasn’t just physical—it was psychological. Every time I tried to reach out, the collective’s influence would pull me back. I wasn’t myself anymore.”

The next morning, Trey returned to practice, though the road ahead wouldn’t be easy. The memories of his time under the polo’s influence haunted him, but his friends reminded him of his strength and his dreams. Slowly, he began to rebuild, focusing on the passion that had always driven him.

#golden army #gold #male transformation #polo drone #rubber polo

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keepthedelta · 12 days ago

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#in general i find the whole racing versus winning thing to be very interesting#and the way some drivers believe in the sanctity of racing and others believe in the sanctity of winning fascinates me

Deltinha can you expand on this concepts? I got fascinated by them after reading the tags.

Thanks!

it kind of started when i listened to some of the sky sports podcasts where they were talking about the mclaren team orders situation. and i found what jenson said versus what nico said to be very interesting.

jenson was defending mclaren's policy of just letting their drivers fight it out on track, arguing that the racing was what the sport was supposed to be about. but then when nico was asked about it (on a different episode) he argued that mclaren should be using team orders to help lando because the point of the championship was to win, and you have to take every advantage you have because you don't know if or when you're going to get another chance.

and it made total sense to me that each of them was making that particular argument given who each of them is. jenson's whole thing is racecraft, he has such a unique driving style and was so admired for his racecraft even when he wasn't the fastest driver that it made sense for him to value the actual racing element above anything else. when he was talking about the team orders and mclaren's history of not issuing team orders, he said that he and lewis took wins off of each other, and if they'd been given team orders one of them probably could have won a championship [during the vettel/red bull dominance years]. but i think jenson could only say that because he already got his fairytale championship in 2009, and because he has canada 2011 to his name. if he didn't have those, particularly the wdc, i think he would look at his mclaren years very differently. and although jenson beat lewis across a season, lewis was overall the stronger driver, and if mclaren had given team orders, it's quite likely jenson would have been the one ordered to help lewis rather than the other way around. so in that sense, mclaren not having team orders and prioritising the "racing" helped jenson out a lot.

equally i think it makes total sense that nico values the winning over the racing. he spent a very long time being a very good driver in very bad cars, and when he finally got a good car, he had to face off against the most successful driver of all time. so it makes sense that the racing is not enough for nico, because it was never enough to be good, or even great, it was important to win. all of the effort he put in, the extremes he went to were not about becoming a better racer, they were about winning, and being able to call himself a champion. since retiring he's said that the only part of formula one he missed was winning, and although he's remained a part of the racing world, he's never raced again, unlike jenson who has raced in multiple other series. in the end it was the winning that fulfilled nico, and once he had that, he felt able to explore other worlds. additionally, i think nico's insecurities/self-esteem issues really affect this. he said in an interview that he didn't believe in himself at all throughout his career. while other drivers have talked about the need to view themselves as the best driver, and believe that given the right circumstances they can be champion, nico talked about how he never believed that, and so the thing that kept him going was his commitment to it. he committed to that championship 100% because he believed in the value of it. and that's why i think he argued that mclaren should have given team orders to help lando because he believes in the inherent value of a championship and of winning, and believes that you should commit to that, even if you don't win, rather than hoping the win comes to you.

there are some drivers that talk about racing as a priority and some that talk about winning as a priority, and i think it's interesting to see which is which, and why they've come to that conclusion. and with charles specifically, i think it would be incredibly interesting to see him choose between winning with anyone for the sake of winning over the possibility of winning with ferrari because of the ferrari of it all. what matters more to him, a championship, or a potential championship with ferrari?

#delta help desk

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drvscarlett · 10 months ago

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About You Pt5

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

A/N: and its a double update!!! im showcasing a lot of side characters that will eventually be a huuuuge part of the plot (winks). also the brewing tension. let me know what you folks think about this

Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @cristianovettel @callsignwidow @gothicwidowsworld

2010, Istanbul Park

The necklace sits heavy on Y/N's neck. She had been fiddling with it the whole morning. There was something about the internal and unspoken pressure happening in the Red Bull garage ever since both of their drivers tied their points for the championship. She have heard more conversations here and there about who would Red Bull side with, their older driver or the rookie.

It was very stressful for Y/N to spend time with the two drivers involved with the discussions.

"Nervous?" Sebastian noticed.

"Can't help it" she gave a weak smile.

"For me or for Mark?"

Y/N had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. As if she hasn't had enough of this whole which driver would you pick to side on. She just gestured that her lips are sealed meaning that she won't take anyone's side.

"Stop trying to get my sister on your side" Mark apparently overheard the conversation "Blood runs thicker than water, am i right sis?"

"I'm not gonna comment on that"

"See what you are doing to my sister, you are ruining this family Seb" Mark overdramatically reacts

"Your sister is my bestfriend, get over it" Sebastian rebutted.

Bestfriend.

And just like that, there was a pang in Y/N's heart. Maybe another factor of the heavy feeling is that she has been doing her best to bury her feelings for Sebastian. But after the whole Monaco pre-birthday thing, every effort that she has to bury her feelings is thrown out of the window. She was hopelessly inlove with the man and Sebastian was very blind about it.

"Just have a good race, okay?"she reminded the two.

"I think we will score some good points today" Sebastian confidently stated.

"That's the fighting spirit" Mark cheered on.

It was moments like this that Y/N was reminded that the two Red Bull drivers are not fighting each other as the team pictured them to be. They may showcase competitiveness during the races but that's just normal. Outside the track, the two share a very friendly atmosphere with each other.

Soon, the two set off to go their respective cars. Y/N watched the race outside of the driver's room for a change. Ever since, she started to hear the gossiping of the Red Bull crew about Seb and Mark, she opted to be more around them. She wanted to know what they are saying to warn the drivers or make a possible plan on how to resolve if ever the situation escalates.

The race started out well with Mark leading comfortably. Sebastian was behind and Lewis was next. It was going really well for Mark and if Y/N have to say it then he might win another race. Sebastian, on the other hand, has been challenged by the two McLarens of Hamilton and Button.

Then it happened all so quickly.

Y/N let out a gasp as the two Red Bull drivers crashed with each other. One was sent down to the gravel while the other managed to push back to the track. Y/N was too focused that she didn't notice that the cameras were pointed at her.

'Y/N Webber

Mark Webber's sister and assistant, Sebastian Vettel's bestfriend.'

The whole garage was in shambles as the radio messages from Sebastian sounds really angry. The amount of swear words in the radio was a stark difference from the jolly Sebastian that she was speaking to a couple of minutes ago. Y/N looked worriedly as Sebastian goes to the stewards.

"It was Vettel's fault"

"No, Mark Webber wasn't looking and giving him space"

"That's stupid, it was clearly Sebastian Vettel's fault"

Watching the replays, Y/N hates to admit it but this one is on Sebastian. She could hear the discussion even becoming more rampant as Sebastian reaches the garage.

A permanent scowl graces his face as he talks to Helmut and Christian about the incident that occurred. Y/N followed to check up on him and she can't help but overhear the conversation.

"That was not right, this shouldn't have happened" Christian lectures "It will cost us a lot of points with the two McLaren looking for two podium finish today"

"Don't look and point fingers at me, I'm not the only one who crashed" Sebastian clearly not thinking his words through.

"Sebastian this should never happen again, understood?" Christian firmly ordered

"But it isn't right to blame Sebastian, the boy is right there were two of them there" Helmut comes to the defense of Sebastian "It was clear that Mark did not make way for him resulting to the crash"

Y/N felt herself getting red. It was clear as a day that the crash was not caused by Mark. It was getting clearer for her that someone has been playing favorites.

"See, you better have word with Mark" Sebastian said.

"Unbelievable" Y/N muttered.

She was taught that if she couldn't say anything good then she probably shouldn't say anything at all so she walks away. She decided not to show herself even after Mark got a podium finish.

Her sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed but Sebastian just let her be.

2010, Silverstone Circuit

Things at Red Bull garage has gone from bad to worse. It was difficult now to hang out with Mark or Sebastian as the two drivers have intended everything to be a competition. Y/N didn't want to see any part of this which is why she is currently doing babysitting duties at Mercedes.

It was a weird set-up seeing how one of Red Bull's employee is staying at the pristine white facility of Mercedes—she sticks out like a sore thumb. But Mick Schumacher only wants Y/N to be with him as he watches his father race. It has always been that case ever since Y/N met Mick when he was around 4 years old.

"Y/N, are you not scared for your brother and Seb?" Mick asked as the two of you watched the cars go out for the formation lap.

"I used to be scared" she still is "But its something that they love"

"Mama says Papa gives her a lot of stress when he races. I hope there is no aksident"Mick's tone was with a slight worry.

"Your Papa will be okay, he is a legend"Y/N assures.

The cars are now slowly lining up to the starting grid. Sebastian was on pole while Mark was the 2nd one so they were sharing a Red Bull front row. It only made Y/N worry even more because race starts are quite chaotic here in Silverstone.

"Mark and Seb must be really lucky to be at the front"Mick commented

"I sure hope so"

The lights started flashing and the infamous lights out and away we go went off. It was indeed chaotic at the start with Sebastian and Mark neck to neck with each other. They were both trying to take the lead even if it means pushing the other off track.

"OH FUCK" Y/N immediately covered the ears of Mick as the collision was broadcasted.

Mark managed to go through but Sebastian had puncture. The German was obviously mad for losing crucial places.

"What happened Y/N to Mark and Seb, I thought they are teammates" was the confused question of Mick.

She sighs. Her thoughts are echoing what Mick just said. What happened to them.

"Mick,they are still teammates its just that they also have to compete with each other. Its a sports and sometimes we lose,sometimes we win"Y/N tried to explain it to 10-year-old Mick.

She could already imagine the chaos in the Red Bull garage. She hears the commentaries that maybe this was Webber's revenge for Istanbul. The headache that will emerge for her after this whole race will be very difficult to ignore.

"Y/N if I become an f1 driver,would you come see me?"Mick asked

Its like heaven sent an angel in the form of Mick for Y/N. When she hears him talk it feels as if the world is slightly a little simpler and better. How she wish she lives in that same bubble as Mick.

"I won't crash, I promise"Mick added

Young Mick is still very young but he really dreams to be a Formula 1 driver like his father. Y/N could feel grey hairs developing if she sees Mick in an F1 car.

"Of course Mick"

"Good"Mick grinned "Oh look Y/N your brother is leading! Go Mark Webbahhhhhh"

The cheers of the little Schumacher made Y/N grin. She will deal with all the Red Bull stress later.

2010, Hockenheimring

Usually, Y/N likes getting her coffee at the catering but she doesn't feel like interacting with any Red Bull team for this morning. This is why the Webber girl is seen queuing up in a local Starbucks.

She was just about to sit down and wait for her coffee when a random man bumped her. It sent all her paper flying and Y/N could only grumble since the man didn't even look at her to help.

"Some people these days lack manners"she huffed in frustration.

It was a good thing that someone was helping her picking up the paper. She looked at the bracelets adorning her wrist and the long blonde hair tied up into a bun, thank God for a woman.

"Thank you so much for helping me" Y/N started "You really didn't have to"

"Nonsense, it will be rude to just stare at you picking up your papers"the woman has a thick German accent, similar to Sebastian.

She is probably local, Y/N thinks.

"Still thank you" Y/N politely insisted "Do you want to sit with me, the whole cafe is full"

"Of course"

Y/N wasn't usually chatty but the woman is very comfortable to talk to. She mentioned that she was a local but she lives a bit far from here and that she was only here for the weekend. Y/N shared how she is also here for the weekend.

"Wait are you going to watch Formula 1?" she quizzed

Y/N was about to answer when she heard the call of the barista. he quickly picked up her coffee and went back to her new friend.

"No way, you are Y/N?THE Y/N Webber?" the girl repeated.

Y/N chuckled. It wasn't usual that she has been recognized by formula 1 fans. She felt red as she admits that she is a bit flattered that she knows her name.

"I didn't know I am famous around here"Y/N joked

"Sebastian always talks about you, I was really looking forward to see you later at the garage"

Oh? Y/N thinks there is only one Sebastian that she knows.

"My name is Hanna, Hanna Prater" she introduced "I'm Sebastian's childhood bestfriend"

2010, Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps

Sebastian was bitter. He felt as if he lost a golden opportunity by not being able to score any points today. He is so bitter that he choose not to celebrate with the team tonight and he intended to stay holed up in his hotel room.

However, after a while,he grew tired of the hotel room walls so he ended up walking at the rooftop of the hotel.

Only,he wasn't the only one there.

"Hey stranger" he called out "I haven't seen you in Red Bull garage for a while"

Y/N turned around and she smiled when she met his eyes.

He doesn't understand how she does it but everything seems to melt in the background when she does this. It felt like he was back in his rookie days when they met up at the rooftops and talk for hours. It was much more simpler back then.

"I have been busy.. socializing" Y/N replied.

They both know that was a lie. Y/N was obviously using socializing as a front when in truth is she doesn't like to mingle with the toxicness of the Red Bull garage. But, Sebastian lets it slide.

"Is it bad that I missed you and I want you to stay at the garage?"Sebastian popped the question out of the blue.

"I'll be there as Mark's sister and his assistant, I don't think it will work well with the situation" Y/N informed.

There it goes again. This was that line that Sebastian has been hindering him to confess or ask her out.

It felt so stupid that he can flirt with anyone with ease but when it comes to Y/N, its so hard.He shouldn't have been scared of Mark, he is never scared of Mark (and it shows multiple times on track). But the thing that Sebastian knows is that Y/N has high regards for her brother and Sebastian didn't want to put a strain in their family.

"How are you feeling with the race today?"Y/N asked, diverting the topic.

"I could have been better." Sebastian sighs "Maybe I should train over and over again"

"Don't push yourself, you are still in the pool for the championship" Y/N assures

The championship. It's everything that Sebastian has ever thought of lately. Its within his reach and he really wants to extend a lead with it but somehow its not working. He really thinks that there is a high possibility that he can get his first championship this year.

"The championship must feel really nice" Y/N comments as she observes the smile on Sebastian's face

"I mean that's why were all racing dangerously" Sebastian chuckles.

No sane man would want to race in harsh conditions or beyond normal speed limit without any incentives.

"Just don't lose yourself"Y/N said "I worry about you Seb"

He acknowledges that. He is not dumb that the Red Bull crew has been pitting him and Webber against each other. In the end, it places a pressure on both of them to perform well because all that Red Bull cares about is who will bring the victory. The more likely victor will be the more favored one.

"We'll be alright" Sebastian comforts.

Even if this is all a lie, the two finds that comfort and repeat it to themselves. Maybe if they repeat it a lot then maybe it will end up coming true.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagines #f1 fic #f1 angst #f1 x you #sebastian vettel x you

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the-cimmerians · 6 months ago

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Queer and trans folk around the world often take an interest in the athletes from our community, and Outsports even collects a database of all the the out LGBTQ competitors. While JK Rowling and 99 percent of conservative media were harassing two cis women boxers, 195 QT athletes represented 26 nations and none, but we’ll get to that. That makes this the queerest Olympics ever, beating out the total of 186 out athletes in Tokyo and, if Queer Nation granted citizenships, would be the 14th largest national contingent at the games. That hypothetical Queer Nation would also have placed sixth in the medal count, tying the Netherlands with 15 golds but falling neatly between the Dutch and host country France on the strength of silvers and bronzes.

One happy bit of news is that in both golds and overall medal count, Queer Nation beat out every single country in the world that criminalizes same-sex boinking. The only bad news seems to be that people competing in the men’s events seem a little underqueered compared to the women. Can’t we at least get a few interested in the Greco-Roman wrestling? Yr Wonkette is just asking.

...

Sure, justice in silver and gold for badass bisexual Black woman Sha’Carri Richardson, excluded from Tokyo on the basis of smoking legal weed in Eugene, Oregon, was as sweet as sativa; it was fun to see Diana Taurasi go out on the queer top with her sixth Olympic gold in a row (team USA’s eighth consecutive women’s basketball gold); and seeing the shoulders on those women rugby players was a dream come true. But we want to speak about someone who didn’t represent any country at all: Cindy Ngamba.

Ngamba is a middleweight (75kg) boxer originally from Cameroon. At 11 years old some family members fled to the United Kingdom as refugees, and brought Ngamba along. The family maintains it had the proper approval for Cindy, but that when her uncle returned to Cameroon it was lost. The UK Home Office has been threatening to deport her since the age of 16, when she was accepted to university and realized she couldn’t produce her visa for her college paperwork.

Despite the threats, Ngamba fought and won many times in the UK’s amateur boxing competitions, having started as a hobbyist in the local Bolton Lads and Girls Club program. She also went on to get an undergraduate degree with honors, all while threats of deportation hung over her head. After winning a UK national championship, she met then-PM Theresa May celebrating her win and the efforts of the Lads & Girls Club where she trained. One might think that the UK might eventually forgive an 11-year-old girl for not keeping track of her paperwork herself, but the Home Office has remained resolute denying Ngamba regularized status.

What makes all this both horrifyingly inhumane and also relevant to this article is that Ngamba is an out lesbian. She has been consistently denied a path to citizenship or even legal residency, only escaping deportation because of her ability to document horror after horror inflicted on queer residents of Cameroon. International law prohibits sending a refugee back to their nation of citizenship or previous residence if they would face persecution and risk of great harm, a crime called “refoulement.”

“If I was sent back, I can be in danger,” Ngamba said. “So, I was given the refugee status to be safe and protected."

Unable to represent the UK and unable to compete in qualifying competitions in Cameroon, Ngamba got an opportunity that no other stateless athlete had ever shared before 2016: she was named to the IOC Refugee Olympic Team. So far that team has only been allowed to compete in the summer games, and only in Rio, Tokyo, and this year in Paris. (They will be allowed to compete in the Winter Games for the first time in 2026.) Given the incredible barriers most refugees face, it is perhaps not surprising that no Refugee Team member has ever won a medal. But while Ngamba has faced incredible legal problems and a ruthlessly anti-immigrant government her entire time in the UK, she at least had better training facilities in her local Lads & Girls than most refugees can dream.

And the dreams paid off. Team Refugee got its first medal ever when Ngamba took home middleweight bronze. "I just want to tell every refugee out there, whether they are an athlete or not, to never give up,” she said after being asked to carry the Olympic flag at the opening of the games. When she won, the whole refugee team took to the internet to celebrate:

“The Refugee Olympic Team is incredibly proud of Cindy Ngamba, the first EOR athlete and the first-ever refugee medallist at the Olympics,” the team posted on X, formerly Twitter. “Today, we are speechless. Cindy did it. Refugees did it!”

Yes, yes you did.

#queer history #Wonkette #Crip Dyke #2024 Olympics #queer athletes

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vro0m · 6 months ago

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the whole thing around how drivers will race even when injured and/or sick for the sake of their teams and the championships rlly gives me the ick honestly, especially bc of the message it's sending to kids in junior series, which is that they should be willing to sacrifice their health and wellbeing if it means they go up in the standings or whatever. f1 historically being a dangerous sport probably hasn't helped this idea, esp taking into account the glorification of things like niki coming back after his accident in '76 to keep on fighting for the wdc and senna's death, but the fact that it's persisted this long honestly can have some really dangerous implications. yes, these injured drivers go onto win races and championships (niki only losing the wdc at the last race in '76, max winning races and eventually the wdc 2021 despite blurry vision following silverstone, lewis winning formula a with a broken wrist (at 15 too which is properly mind boggling honestly), lewis getting pole in german 2019 despite having a 40ºC fever, carlos winning australia after appendicitis, oscar winning hungary with a broken rib) but imo it's setting a borderline dangerous precedent for other drivers and kids coming up through the junior formulas.

What annoys me about it is that the athletes themselves can't say no, in this sport or any other. They can't and won't say no because they've been taught to not listen to their bodies and to push through and sometimes that they are weak if they need a break* and that the chance they have to be where they are is fleeting and they need to be on top all day every single day to not lose it. So they won't say no.

Remember Qatar 23? Some of these drivers reported losing vision in the corners due to the heat and the effort and they didn't stop. Ocon threw up in his helmet twice and he didn't stop. George said he almost passed out before the end of the race. He didn't stop. Only Sargeant stopped.

Noah Lyles ran the 200m with covid and he might or might not have permanent damage from doing so. And he still went.

What all of them and the ones you cited have in common, is that nobody around them said no for them. No one in Lyles entourage said man that's a bad idea. His girlfriend spent the night turning him around in his bed because of how much he coughed and she didn't say maybe you shouldn't go. No one said maybe it's a bad idea even though he had severe asthma in his childhood. Carlos was in horrible pain from appendicitis and no one told him maybe sit this one out. They gave him painkillers and sent him back out. Oscar had a broken rib and they sat him in the car all the same.

And sure these are adults, not puppets, not victims, they are responsible for themselves as adults and they do have some responsibility in these decisions. But truly even if they wanted to, which I'm not convinced they do, these people can't say no. The people around them should say no for them. They won't because they're greedy. The athletes don't see it because they've been primed not to see it and/or they also are greedy (for money or other things). No one is there to say no. I'm betting if people (doctors) are saying no, they are ignored. Someone needs to say no.

*btw remember that Lewis, who did not race in Qatar 23 because of the contact with George, said a whole thing about how that's just how it is and if the drivers suffered they had to train more because they weren't prepared enough. they are all part of this culture and very few seem to even notice it.

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vettelsdarling · 2 years ago

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Hiiii can I get a request for Lando basically a sunshine x grumpy where the reader is a new driver that wants 0 distractions and ruled out dating any drivers and so she gets along with everyone but is more distant with Lando because she knows if they get close she’ll fall in love with him but she can’t afford any distractions but he still puts in effort to get to know her and making her smile etc despite her pushing him away and they have this moment and idk you can finish it however you like plsss and thanks!

𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Lissie note… Hey there! This is a really cute idea, I love the thought of Lando pining!! Thank you for the creative freedom to finish it off however I feel!

Things to note:

This is set in the 2022 season, but not in the same timeline(?) you'll see

Reader isn’t completely new to Formula One, but it’s her first time on the grid as a driver (she’s been a reserve driver)

Reader is a few months/a year younger than Lando

Reader is a Red Bull driver

Pairing: Sunshine!Pining!Lando x Grumpy!Serious!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some cursing, Pretty angsty, J*s Verstappen

Word Count: 6.5k+

Recommended playlists: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭💔, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Formula One. A bloodsport, really. Vicious and dangerous. Somehow you’d managed to rise through the ranks and get there. Even earning a place next to Max Verstappen, the second-youngest world champion. Christian Horner, your team boss, was the kind of person who nursed his drivers as if they were his own children. You yearned for the proud look on his face. Not just for him, but for yourself.

Growing up in a middle-class family, you weren’t as privileged as other kids in karting. Your mother worked tirelessly to support you, whilst your father took you to each race. Now that you’d finally made it to Formula One, you wanted to do everything you could to pay them back. They had given the better part of their lives up so that you could live yours the way you desired.

Winning a championship in Formula One had always been a childhood dream of yours.

… and you were not about to give up on that dream anytime soon.

You, Max, and Horner had come to an agreement: Max would help you win as much as possible. Nobody and absolutely nobody was to get in your way. Max promised to make sure of that. Since you were younger than him, he treated you like a younger sister, whilst still treating you as an equal. Given the fact that he had a sister, he was great at it.

You were in your car. It was the first qualifying of the season, and you felt all of your nerves tense up. It was your first ever feel for Formula One besides sim racing. You’d been stuck as a reserve driver for nearly 2 years— safe to say, you were relieved to finally get a seat. Max and Lewis had just been dominating too much. However, this year was yours and yours alone. You were determined to shine, and you would take down anyone who so much as breathed a hint of threat your way.

You were released and you started your out lap. The tyres felt smooth and the car was completely in sync with you. It was nothing like sim racing, and nothing like Formula 2 either. You’d done practice runs several times before, but there was something about the real deal that elevated the experience that much more. You knew there was a lot of pressure on you for qualifying. Mainly due to the fact that Max had no way of helping you. It was every man for himself, and there was no way you were going to get kicked in Q1.

“You doing alright?” You heard your engineer say. It made you get distracted, and you accidentally exceeded track limits.

“Well, now I’m not! Shut it, please.” Well, shit. You knew that blunder would be noted immediately. It was surely a deletion of your time. Therefore, you decided to push. Hard.

The next lap was a go, and you worked your way meticulously around every corner, hitting every apex just right. You were determined to make it into Q3. No matter what it took.

You got one final time in, and it was announced by your radio that you made it into Q2, placing P5. You weren’t the type to scream out with joy, so you merely thanked them for the notice.

Q2 began, and you barely made it through to Q3, placing P10.

What nobody expected was your spirit. If you wanted something, you were going to get it.

“Okay, we’ve notified Max that he should try to slow down a bit, to possibly get you a pole position. This way, we can also help you from behind in the race.”

“Copy.” Your chest felt ticklish with adrenaline, and you pushed harder than before. You did everything you could. Your body felt as if it had been fused to the car. You were getting the fastest sector time left and right. It was exhilarating.

“That’s a pole! Great job! We did it!” Your engineer screamed into your ear with excitement. It was deafening, but that didn’t matter. It felt so good.

“Thanks for the help, guys.”

The front row consisted of you, Max, and Lando Norris; a driver from McLaren. You hadn’t really conversed with him much before. Except one time. Max had invited you to attend the end-of-year party a year back. Lando barely managed to introduce himself before he was interrupted by the Dutchman.

After Lando finished his interview, he moved back to where you were waiting patiently for your turn.

“I hear you’re into brunettes?” You were, but you hadn’t told anyone. Which could only have meant that it was his go-to pick-up line. Lame, if anything.

“Did you also hear I’m into guys who don’t bother me?” It wasn’t a matter of teasing him or playing hard to get. You simply had no time for something as frivolous as dating on the grid. It was pointless and would only serve as a distraction when you had to stay focused.

“Cute.” It almost felt repulsive to hear him say that. You’d never really been in a relationship other than the many situation-ships you’d allowed yourself to fall victim to in your Formula 2 days.

When your turn finally came, you shook David’s hand with a smile. Adrenaline was still making its rounds throughout your system.

“You did an amazing job today, surely you must be excited!” David was such a gentle and warm soul, so you decided to lay off the colder side for a little.

“I feel amazing, really, I’m over the moon!” You grinned. He asked you some generic questions and you gave him appropriate responses for each.

“You’re the first woman in a long time to have raced in Formula One, you should be proud,” he finished off, before letting you go.

Max slung his arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked back to the Red Bull motorhome. Christian greeted you at the door on his way out, pulling you into a big bear hug and thanking Max for the sacrifice. The two of you made yourselves comfortable on the leather couches in front of the small flatscreen that was inside.

“Max, I really hope it’s okay for you to do all of this for me…” You looked over at Max who was scrolling through the channels.

“Of course, I’ll do it for you. We’re teammates. Besides, it would’ve been wrong if you weren’t talented and couldn’t actually take me on… but you can… so…” He started trailing off as he got a phone call. It seemed to be his father, so he immediately answered it. Of all feelings, you were definitely not surprised by the angry bickering coming from his father through the phone. The look on Max’s face was all but whipped with joy.

When the call ended, you tried to find the right words to comfort him. It was rather hard though, as you’d never really experienced his situation before.

“… I’m here if you want to talk about it?” That was really all you could offer. But your support meant everything to Max, who had made quite the impression on track. Fans saw him as a hot-headed brute, with nothing on his mind but winning.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t anything. Don’t worry about it.” His demeanour had completed a full 360°.

“Well, in any case, if you ever happen to need someone… you know I’ll always be right here.” Without warning, you pulled your brother figure into a warm hug, rubbing his back gently. You’d only ever met his dad a couple of times, but both times were horrible. The man was stone cold. He was intimidating to you.

To celebrate your pole in qualifying, Max had invited you out for dinner with a couple of friends. He said you knew who they were, but still, you felt off about it.

Your hair cascaded down upon your shoulders, masking your exposed collarbone from your little black dress. It was a simple dinner dress you’d brought along for the trip. Your makeup was light but accentuated your features to the fullest extent. Your shoes were designer and matched your padded Prada mini-bag. You threw on a black blazer to complete the look. Flawless.

Max had texted you the address of the restaurant along with the time. You jumped in a cab and gave the driver the information. The cab driver was chatty. He talked about his family, mentioning the fact that he had twin daughters who had just started middle school. You zoned out on the rest of his chatter though. The thoughts of dining with Max’s friends felt daunting somehow.

When you finally arrived, you were already late. You’d been too busy zoning out to notify your teammate. Upon walking in, you saw a fancy vined wall with several pictures of celebrities who’d visited the establishment. Amongst them was a picture of Max and the Brit who’d tried to hit on you. Lando Norris. A waiter approached you with a polite smile and a guest list.

“Oh, um… Max Verstappen?” You also made sure to mention your name so as to not stir any confusion or suspicions. You could’ve easily been mistaken for a fan.

“Right this way, miss.” He led you to a quiet room in the back. It was likely reserved for the restaurant’s VIPs. There you laid eyes on Max and Daniel Ricciardo… but Lando Norris too?! A wave of relief washed over you, as you realized you knew them somewhat.

“Max, you didn’t tell me she would be here?” Lando took the view in with delight, smirking as you noticed it. You rolled your eyes and took a seat beside Max. Unfortunately, that seat was across from curly-haired Brit.

“It was a surprise. We’re actually celebrating her first pole today.” You felt slightly embarrassed, almost like people singing you birthday songs.

“Max, isn’t this just rubbing another Red Bull win in our faces?” Asked Daniel. He was obviously joking, so you shot him a playful glare, chuckling shortly after.

After a while, Daniel and Max had gotten deep into their conversation, which left you to deal with Lando. He’d stolen several glances of you throughout the dinner and it didn’t seem like he was planning to stop. You took it as your opportunity to strike up some small talk. All in hopes to get him to stop staring.

“You should stop staring, my image might get burned into your retina.” He didn’t even bother blinking. His eyes moved from your figure to your eyes.

“I think that’d be a blessing, no?” You scoffed at his reply. You saw it as nothing but a foolish attempt at flirtation— which you didn’t appreciate. Sure, you were off-track, but that didn’t mean you had time for meaningless distractions. Lando gave off a clear vibe that he was nothing but a hindrance to your ultimate goal of becoming a champion.

“You’re playing hard to get. I like that,” he smirked and slightly leaned back in his seat.

“Could you be any more obnoxious?”

“If that’s what you want me to be.” He was truly impossible to communicate with. Every sentence was a pick-up line to some degree.

“I’m not interested in you, Norris.” He seemed to completely disregard the message you sent, as a smile grew on his face the moment you uttered his last name.

“Glad to know you know my name, Miss Red Bull.” Admittedly, he was pretty easy on the eyes, and his small chuckles were cuter than you wanted to acknowledge.

“You should let me take you home after this.”

“You don’t even know me.” Contrary to your belief, that wasn’t true at all. He knew exactly who you were. He and Max were close friends after all. But the real kicker was; he’d been into you for much longer than he led on.

His infatuation first started in the early stages of the 2021 season, when he’d see you wandering around the tracks on weekdays. He’d seen you in the Red Bull garages, usually deep in conversation with one of the engineers. He’d asked about you from multiple people. That included the big man himself; Christian Horner. Though, Christian encouraged him to stop asking around and just strike up a conversation with you. However, Lando never actually found the time to approach you. You were always surrounded by mechanics and the media. It was simply impossible to get to you. It was almost like you were a national treasure. Pretty to look at, but that was all he could do.

“Trust me, I know you.” For a moment, you got lost in those dashing eyes of his. He returned your gaze, only looking into what would be considered the windows to your soul. Could he read you? Could he understand that you didn’t want him? Did you want him?

“You’re incredible up close.”

“Excuse me?” You snapped out of whatever trance you’d been stuck in as soon as those words left his pouty lips. That statement was creepy if anything, and not flattering in the slightest… or was it?

“That’s a pretty off-putting thing to say, you know?” This luckily caught the attention of Max who’d finished off with Daniel. The two of them turned their heads your way to join in.

“What’s off-putting?”

“Oh, we were just talking about how obsessed Lando is with me.” You said it in a joking manner, but everyone’s faces went semi-pale. Especially Lando’s.

“So he finally talked to you? I’m glad I don’t have to answer any more of his idiotic questions.” Your mouth went dry at his words, and Lando’s face turned a rose colour. As if all air conditioning had been turned off on a hot summer’s day.

“Excuse me?” You’d lost your appetite, making your curiosity the only reason you had to stay. That and your appreciation for Max having paid for the dinner that was supposed to serve as a celebration.

“I- um…” Lando was reasonably hesitant to say anything.

“Well… I was just referring to his constant flirting. I didn’t believe it was deep or anything but… um… you know what? This was nice, Max. Truly. I think I’d like to get home. I’m absolutely drained.” You sighed with a screwed smile on your lip. You gathered your things and pushed your chair in. Despite your friend’s heavy protests, you left and got a cab for yourself.

Leaving on an empty stomach hadn’t been the plan, so you had no choice but to stop by a grocery store. Many in the area had salads ready to go. It was no five-star meal, but it had to suffice.

Of course, you felt awful for leaving early, but you knew you couldn’t let yourself stray away from your goal. Lando was attractive, you couldn’t stand there and lie to yourself, but that was all the more reason to stay away. Well, besides the point that you barely knew the guy. The flirtatious comments and borderline creepy behaviour were nothing to you. It wasn’t anything you wouldn’t be able to ignore. As long as he stayed out of your way.

Except he didn’t.

The following morning, you had a couple of missed messages from Max. He’d been worried after you took off. You were too frazzled and in a hurry to respond. There was no time left before the briefing back at the motorhome. Being punctual meant that you showed an interest. It meant that you showed passion. You were not going to let some silly McLaren driver ruin it for you. That was simply not your style and would never be.

When you got there, everyone was already gathered. They’d been waiting for you to arrive. Honest, but embarrassing mistake. You wanted to let out a slew of self-insulting jabs. Lucky for you, it didn’t last too long, and you were on to start prepping for the race.

“Hey, are you okay?” A certain Dutchman tapped your shoulder and spun you around when you weren’t responsive. The look he saw in your eyes spoke volumes. Notes that you wish weren’t easily revealed. The eyes didn’t lie. They never did.

“I’m fine, I just really want to focus on winning. I don’t have time for whatever Lando is trying to drag me into.” You sighed as the two of you walked to the motorhome.

“Look, I know you haven’t known him for long, but maybe try to get along with him? You don’t have to accept his shitty flirting. He’s my best friend and so are you… it’s really awkward that you can’t even be around him.” True. You had acted somewhat irresponsibly, but you certainly weren’t the only guilty party in that.

“Fine, but under one condition. You tell him to stop being so flirtatious with me. I hate it.”

“Deal.”

The race ended with a lucky pole position. Somehow, you’d gotten away with defending yourself from none other than your little McLaren fan. As much as you enjoyed your national anthem being played and spraying champagne— you felt so empty. It felt like a worthless celebration. All because you knew you’d been underperforming. You hadn’t given it your all, yet Lando still kept behind you. Of course, with Max behind him, there was nothing for you to worry about. Both drivers were amazing when it came to defending their place, but you just couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gone for the win. It was right there. Right within reach. It was so close, his beautiful curved lips could touch it. It didn’t make sense to you, nobody would be stupid enough to sacrifice coming out on top. You didn’t believe it. You simply didn’t even want to.

Lando became unavoidable. As more races were won by you and some by Max, it was finally time for the summer break. 3 weeks of much-needed rest.

… what you thought would be a relaxing 3 weeks, turned out to be the most stressful weeks of your life.

Max had texted you on short notice to come over for dinner, as Kelly had made too big of a batch of gnocchi. Since you lived walking distance from him, you didn’t see any harm in coming over. Kelly wasn’t exactly your favourite person in the world, but it wasn’t like she was insufferable. She was still a nice person… somewhat.

Max greeted you at the door, having Penelope run up behind him to say hi. You might’ve not been the biggest fan of her mother, but she was such a cute little thing. You took her up into your arms and smiled,

“Hi there ‘P’!”

Your smile quickly faded though. The Brit from McLaren came into view from behind Max, and it was almost as if all of your spirits had been sucked out of you like the marrow of a bone. It was something of a consolation, however, that he stayed silent. He just stood there and watched as you played around with Penelope. The toddler was full of energy.

“Come come, the gnocchi is ready.” You put the girl down and followed them into the dining room. Kelly had plated everything and had taken the liberty to sit across from Max. You had no choice but to sit next to her. It wouldn’t exactly make sense for her to be sitting next to Lando.

“Kelly, I must say you are an amazing cook, this looks fantastic!” Fake it until you make it. In all honesty, though, she was a great cook.

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing lately.” It felt like deja vu when the couple got into talking. There was just you, Lando, and Penelope.

“I think I should apologize for… everything?” Lando suddenly spoke. You scanned his face, his hair, his outfit. Were you in trouble? Perhaps.

“You know what, Kelly? I think I’ll help tuck Penelope in!” You got up from your seat and politely put down your cutlery.

“Oh, sure. Thank you. It’s way past her bedtime.” She smiled at you and signalled for Penelope to come with you before she turned back to Max.

Lando had the guts to follow you into Penelope’s bedroom. He watched as you lifted the little girl up into your arms and placed her carefully on the duvets that covered her bed. She was already in her pyjamas, which made your job all the more easy. He took the chance to sit next to you on the bed, as you stroked the toddler’s cheek.

“Are you really going to avoid me forever?” He said in a quiet whisper, not wanting to disturb the girl from dozing off into the gentle night.

“You’re a fool if you let relationships taint your path to victory… in my opinion.” You turned your head to look at him. The moonlight shining from the gaps in the blinds complimented his dancing eyes. They looked at you. Your figure. Your facial features. They admired you as if you were a priceless piece of art at a gallery.

“You must’ve led a pretty sad life up until now.” He wasn’t right. You’d been around love and laughter for the better part of your life. You weren’t that lonely… were you?

“Lando… we don’t even—”

“Don’t tell me we don’t know each other. You know me and I know you. This isn’t like all those months ago. We’ve been in social settings together more than I can count on my fingers. You and I know each other.” He was obviously desperate. It made sense when thinking of the massive crush he’d had on you thus far. You did feel a tinge of guilt knowing you had to turn him down no matter what.

“Lando, please don’t do this.”

“I apologize for being so forward, okay? How about we begin with a friendship, huh? That’s what Max would want anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. That’s what Max had asked of you several months ago, but you’d only been distant.

You got along with everyone pretty well. Mick was someone you would chat with every time you saw him on race weekends. Sebastian was like an older brother. Lewis, although your biggest competition, was a good buddy too. You were always hanging around Pierre and Kika too. There were no hard feelings between you and pretty much all of the other drivers. Except for Lando.

As much as you hated admitting it, Lando’s charms had taken a massive effect on you. His flirtatious little comments were nothing short of annoying, but you loved the banter. You loved his energy, his radiant laugh whenever Max would hurl jokes his way. You loved his smirk whenever you rejected his advances.

Over just a couple of months, you found yourself needing to avoid him. So you did. As more time passed, Lando must’ve started to notice, because he dialled his game up by the tenths. Avoiding him became an impossible mission. He seemed to be everywhere. If you went to the Red Bull motorhome, he was there with Max. If you went to the garage, he was there with Max. Even on-track he was right behind you in your slipstream. He was always chasing you. You only had one other option left— to act completely apathetic and aloof. Which brought you right to the confrontation in front of a little toddler trying to fall asleep.

“Just leave me alone. I don’t want you here. Just go, okay?” Your heart clenched as he gave you a disappointed smile.

“If that’s what you want.”

That night you couldn’t fall asleep. It was impossible. Whilst you didn’t harbour any real feelings for Lando, you knew you’d fall hard if you spent any more time with him. Your mind was supposed to be focused on winning, but instead of that— you were stuck on him. You didn’t want to fall for him. You didn’t have time for that. There was only one person that mattered, and that was you. Only you.

“Is he really that bad?” Kika asked as she took a sip of her coffee, placing it on the plastic coaster on the wooden table. You’d invited her over for a sleepover of sorts. Mainly what became an accidental therapy session,

“You know, I came here to Monaco to explore. Why are we sitting here and sulking? Lando isn’t all that bad.”

“Yes, Kika, he is! He keeps trying to get close to me, and when I reject him he makes me feel so guilty for doing so.” Your face was squished against the table, signalling your utter defeat in the matter. You were at a complete loss. You didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Sounds to me like you have a thing for him, no?” Kika was a voice of reason in many situations, but this was not acceptable to you. Denial and delusion was the only solution.

“Never. I want to win a championship, not go fool around with some British guy from a midfield team.” Harsh, but you had to say it. Saying it didn’t exactly have an effect on the situation, but it made you feel better.

“I don’t see any quick fix to this, honestly.” You groaned at her words, wanting your misery to end.

“Come on, relationships take time. I should know, I’m with Pierre.” Pierre wasn’t Lando though. She and he were meant to be. It was as if they were put on the planet to be with each other. You, on the other hand, were put on the planet to win. Lando was nothing but a meaningless distraction.

“Fine, I’ll help you out,” she finally said and sighed. You sprung up and looked at her with wide eyes,

“Really?”

“Really. Now listen. I’ll set up a double date thing, okay?”

“Wait what? No! Kika, no. That’s only going to make it worse. Why would you do that?” Your head dropped again.

“Look, do you want my help or not?”

“I do…”

“Then let me do my thing, and sit tight.” It was her win. You just wanted to get Lando out of the way. Any lengths were necessary if it meant being able to blow right past the Brit.

A week passed before the supposed ‘double date’, and you were not feeling it one bit. Lando wasn’t even all that close with Kika and Pierre. Not as close as you were. You’d end up being the only reason he’d have to stay.

Sadly you realized that fact too late. You were sat with Kika and Pierre at a fancy seafood place down by the harbour. Lando had noted that he’d be late, which gave the three of you some time to discuss some last-minute details. It was imperative that he’d be completely out of the equation by the end of the date.

It wasn’t so much the question of whether or not you’d fallen for him. No, it was whether you could ignore it altogether. Completely shut out any little squeak from your heart when it tugs at the sight of him. Which is just did.

You saw him walking through the door with a casual, but not too casual outfit. His curls were slightly slicked back and his smile was as radiant as ever. You couldn’t stand the sight of him. It was repulsive. Was it not? It made you sick. Did it not?

When he took a seat next to Pierre, across from you, it was hard to not look at him. Oh, but how badly you wanted to. Then again— you didn’t. You hated the fact that Kika had some diabolical plan in mind. One that probably went against everything you stood for.

“Well! Now that Lando’s here, we should order appetizers!” She pulled out the menu and casually looked through the variety of foods.

Whilst she ordered for the four of you, Pierre gave you a nervous look and slightly peered over at Lando, who luckily had his nose buried in his phone. Likely some business stuff. You could only mouth ‘What do I do?’ to which the Frenchman replied with a shrug and a miserable look on his face. He knew just as much as you, that this date would end up in a knot of awkward silences and unfinished sentences.

“Lando, I didn’t think you’d actually show up. You know, given this girl’s obvious distaste for you.” You nearly snapped your neck, as she pointed at you. Oh, how you wanted someone to interrupt your date. Anyone. Lando put his phone away, sighed, and looked at you with a small smile, before giving her a reply,

“I don’t care if I’m being completely honest. I’ve done it for months. I can go for years if I have to.” Kika had seriously misinterpreted Lando’s intentions and how badly he actually wanted you. Your version of the situation had him painted in an entirely different light after all. You made him out to be some meaningless player. Which, by the sound of things, wasn’t his style at all.

“I was under the impression he was trying to play you! That’s why this date would’ve worked out to get him off your back. What is this?!” Kika whisper-yelled. Everything was messed up. Way off course. The plan had gone to shit within less than an hour.

“Well… I really don’t like him, so isn’t there something you can do?” You whispered back. The two of you both realized that the guys were able to see you whispering back and forth, so she hauled you into the ladies’ room. It was quiet and nobody would disturb you.

“Do you want the truth or a sugar-coated lie?” She asked, resting a hand on her hip.

“The truth?” You were conflicted though. Did you actually want the truth? Did you already know it? Did you perhaps just bury it deep within the darkest chambers of your pitiful little lonely soul? Were you so obsessed with rising to the top, that relationships truly didn’t matter?

“You like him. No, it’s more than just an infatuation. You’re head over heels for him. The way you looked at him when he walked in? I saw it. Pierre saw it. The waiters saw it! Open your eyes.” Hearing it from another person really put things into perspective, and it didn’t sit right with you. All your life you were used to pushing people away. Silly little childhood crushes would stay exactly that; crushes. You never let anything go beyond the first stage.

“Kika… I don’t know,” you groaned and turned on the faucet, splashing some water on your face.

“Come on, let’s get back to them. They’re waiting for us.”

After sitting back down, Lando tried to give you a curt smile. It was awkward and the pressure was rising. It was hard to stay within 10 feet of the guy.

“I remember when I first started falling for Pierre. It was really something… how about you, Lando? When did you start having a thing for her?” Oh please, Kika seemed too determined to let it go. A part of you liked that, but the other part felt its gut screaming in agony.

“It’s been more than a year or so now, actually… it’s a little hard to explain.” With that, you couldn’t handle it anymore. You apologized and left the setting abruptly. It was far too much for you, and you just knew your heart would give out.

As you walked out of the restaurant and started looking for a cab, you heard footsteps running after you, with the calling of your name soon following right behind. You knew exactly who it was, but you didn’t know if you were ready for that conversation.

“Please don’t. Don’t leave again.” You turned around to see a very desperate-looking Lando.

“Lando, do you know how embarrassing that was for me?” You sighed and rolled your eyes as if you were a bratty teenager being denied the latest fashion statement dress.

“What?”

“Even I didn’t know it had been a whole year and more than that! You were seriously going to tell them all about your weird little obsession with me! Don’t you see how embarrassing that is for me?” The curly-haired brunette looked reasonably upset by your words. They cut deep like a dagger to the chest.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was just being honest. It felt like an interrogation. I was uncomfortable and just had to say something… well… the truth. It was really as if Kika wanted to know my intentions, though.” How was the guy so spot on?

“Lando, just leave me be and go back to the others. We can live our separate lives. I don’t want to be near you right now.” You didn’t want your face to reveal any underlying feelings, so you buried your gaze in the asphalt.

“Why don’t you go ahead and look into my eyes whilst you say that.” Your heart stopped. Lando was simply impossible.

“Lando, just let me go. I don’t want you and if you can’t accept that— I don’t think there’s any space for a friendship either.” This time, he went to hell with it and cupped your face with both hands. You could feel the warmth pulsating in each palm, sending jolts down your spine.

“There’s no reason to treat me like this if you can’t even say it straight to my face.” He held you too tightly for you to look away from him. All you could see was the genuine despair in his eyes. The little hope he had left was slowly slipping the more you denied and denied and denied.

“Lando if you don’t let go of me right now…”

“What are you going to do? Distance yourself from me? Isn’t that what you've been doing this whole season? Do you think you’re invisible? I’ve seen you. I saw you on the podium. I saw you on the screens. I saw you in the magazines. Just because you run away, doesn’t mean you get to go the easy way out. No, you’ll know that I—“ Fuck. Your brain was struggling to scramble everything together. All you could think about was those sweet eyes of his. Those curly locks. That desperate look on his face.

“Just let me go… please.” The overload of sensory input sent a single tear streaming down your face. Lando, seeing this, immediately let go of you, making sure he hadn’t hurt you in some way.

“I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“I know…” You quickly wiped the salty drop of truth away and put on yet another jester’s face.

“Please, can you tell me why you hate me so much? I just need closure. I just can’t find it in myself to believe that it’s because of my flirtation.” He’d given you space to breathe and space to think.

“I don’t hate you…”

“Then why do you keep leaving? Why are you avoiding me?”

“Because I’ll fall in love with you if I don’t… and that’s not what I want to do.” It was hard to read his face, but it was certainly portraying some kind of relief. You confirmed it when he pulled you into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat matched the pace of yours. Fast and relenting.

“Please, could you give it a chance? Give us a chance?” He pulled away, grabbed you by the hips and looked deeply into your eyes. The window to your soul.

“I just told you… that’s not what I want, Lando…” You were just about to give the ground another look at your face when Lando grabbed you by the chin,

“I know you’re obsessed with winning. I heard from Max. I won’t compromise that. I promise. It’s just… I need you in my life, and now that I know you feel the same way… I can’t just sit back and watch you slip away.” He was making it harder than you wanted him to. He had a point and you chewed on it.

“Fine… but you better let me win. At least for the remaining races of this season.”

“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a deal.” He smiled. It was as if time stood still, as you’d eyes closed with his— your lips touched his with a certain birding falling off your back along with it. His lips were like a cure. They were soft and delicate. Not something you expected, but the feeling was certainly welcome.

The season had ended with you as the champion. The party that was held was unlike the others. It was your party. Not Max’s. Not Lewis’. It was yours and yours alone. People cheered your name and toasted in your honour. You felt like you were on top of the world. More than anything though, Lando held you in his arms that same night. He showered you with congratulations and compliments. Even going as far as buying you a bouquet of roses. The club smelled of alcohol and cheap perfume, but all you could smell was the woodsy and warm scent of Lando’s cologne. You were practically engulfed in it throughout the entire night.

He took you on an official date a week later, waiting for the season to fully conclude. Mostly due to the stress of packing and making it back home.

It was a picnic in one of the many British marshes. Everything was home cooked. Well, you’d cooked everything and he had bought the wine. It was a win-win. You’d done everything overnight, as you wanted to arrive early into the morning.

You’d spread out the checkered tablecloth for you to sit on, opened the basket, and prepped everything. Lando opened the aged wine and poured you a glass before he poured his own— a true gentleman. You swirled your wine around, watching it hit the rim of your glass before you took a sip.

“For once, you aren’t running off before we eat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dine, even with all the dinners we’ve had together,” your boyfriend chuckled and handed you a chocolate-covered strawberry. You took a bite of it to show off that you, in fact, were able to stay and eat. It stirred a little chuckle from him. He then mimicked the exact way you ate it and gave you another one after you finished yours.

You leaned against your lover’s shoulder, feeling his arm wrapped around your waist. The two of you watched the yellows, the oranges, and the reds in the sky as the sun started its ascension far into the horizon. It was mesmerizing. Truly. You admired the view, taking in all of life’s pleasures, and listened as the mourning doves cooed the same old nostalgic tune from your adolescent years. There was no place you’d rather be, and nobody you’d rather be there with, than with Lando Norris. The one, who through one too many races, was right in your slipstream.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

Text

Batting Practice Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Despite his best efforts, Bradley hadn't stopped thinking about you since Monday. When Bob decided they needed a Team Mom, he sees an opportunity he can't pass up.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

When Bradley arrived on base Tuesday morning, he saw Bob right away.

"I can't thank you enough, Rooster. Piper had so much fun yesterday, and I really think this is going to be good for her. The other kids seemed excited too."

Bradley zipped up his flight suit and grabbed his helmet. "The kids were easier to instruct than I expected. They made it fun." His mind automatically pictured Everett. And Everett's mom.

"So you'll be back for practice on Thursday?" Bob asked, reaching for his own helmet.

Bradley scoffed. "You think I'm going to bail on the Tiny Eagles? No way. We have a championship to win, and I plan on being named coach of the year."

Bob laughed. "That's the spirit."

Nat strolled over, sipping coffee inside the hangar even though you weren't supposed to. "How was pee wee football?" she asked with a smirk.

"We've been over this before, Phoenix," Bob said with a sigh. "It's tee ball."

"She's just fucking with you," Bradley said, looking from side to side before he stole Nat's coffee and took a big sip.

She groaned in response. "Just finish it," she told him. "So, tee ball? How was that?"

"Fun!" Bob exclaimed. "Piper loved it. All the kids were great. And all the moms came up at the end of practice to introduce themselves and tell us we did a great job."

Nat burst out laughing as Bradley finished her coffee. "Yeah... I'll bet they did! They would probably love to show you two even more gratitude."

Bob looked confused, but Bradley just smiled against the coffee cup. "Moms are not my type. I told you that already, Nat." But he felt like such a liar. He could picture you so clearly in his mind, and he could remember how your voice sounded. Really, he was more excited about practice on Thursday than he should be, simply because you and Everett were going to be there.

Maybe he would wear a Phillies hat to match with Everett.

"Rooster... every woman is your type," Nat said, patting him on the shoulder as she grabbed her helmet and headed for her Super Hornet.

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

Work was insanely busy, and Thursday arrived before you knew it. You were still answering client emails when Frank knocked on your door at lunchtime.

"Come in!" you called, and thankfully he brought you a sandwich. You jumped up at the prospect of actually having something to eat, but Frank wrapped you in his arms before you could take a bite.

"I've missed you all week. You work too hard," he whispered, placing a soft kiss next to your ear. "Wanna come over this weekend?"

You should say yes, especially since Everett was going to have a sleepover at your sister's house. Plus, this would be your last free Saturday for a while, since tee ball games would be starting up.

"I'll have to let you know," you told him as his lips connected with yours.

But you were thinking about how it might feel to kiss Coach Bradley with his mustache.

Where had that thought come from? You let out a startled gasp, and Frank slipped his tongue between your lips.

Bradley would definitely be a better kisser than this.

"Frank," you managed to say. "I'm starving, and I have so much work to do."

He sighed and squeezed your waist through your suit. "Try to come over this weekend, okay baby?"

You just nodded and unwrapped the sandwich as he left. Only four more hours until tee ball practice. You couldn't believe you were as ridiculous as the other moms, but here you were, thinking about your kid's coach while you ate lunch.

But it didn't stop there. After you picked Everett up at school, he rambled on about tee ball and his coaches for the entire drive to the ballfield. And you started thinking about Bradley again.

"Can we go see the Phillies play again this year?" Everett asked as you pulled into the parking lot.

"You know, Ev, it was supposed to be a surprise. They play the Padres on a Sunday afternoon, and I've been planning on getting us tickets."

After hesitating for a beat, you parked next to the Bronco again, which you were smart enough to know was a really dumb thing to do.

"Yes! Can we take Coach Bradley with us too?"

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. "Sweetie, he's your coach during tee ball hours. I don't think he's going to have time to go to a baseball game with us."

Everett jumped out of the car and looked up at you as you took his hand. "But he likes the Phillies. I think he might want to go."

Once again you changed into your sneakers while you walked across the grass. You didn't want to get your son's hopes up, and you couldn't help but think that he wouldn't be so starved for attention if Danny came around more often. Your ex was legitimately the worst.

"We can talk about it later, okay?"

You almost tripped over your own feet when you looked up and saw Bradley. He was talking to one of the overzealous moms, and he had his arms crossed over his chest, nodding along with whatever was being said. His biceps looked good, but you also immediately noticed the Phillies hat on his head.

Bradley's eyes shifted to the side as you approached the bleachers, and he kind of smirked at you. He didn't even seem to notice when the other mom placed her hand on his forearm. But you did. You wished it was you touching him instead.

"Mommy, I need my bag," Everett said, and you shifted your attention to your son. You helped him get his cleats on, and then you waited for the coaches to blow the whistle to start practice.

"Can I have everyone's attention for a minute?"

You looked up to see Bob heading toward the bleachers where all of the parents were sitting. So you took the spot next to Everett on the bottom row, and Bradley shifted to stand closer to your end.

"I just wanted to reiterate how excited we are to coach your kids this season," Bob said. "Coach Bradley and I have worked out most of the scheduling and whatnot, but we do need to have a Team Mom or Team Dad to help us with some tasks. Things like bringing extra snacks and drinks, and being in charge of sending out texts if the weather is bad. Also they would need to be available to help us with anything else that might come up."

You let your gaze shift from Bob to Bradley, and he was already looking at you. He nodded once as his lips quirked up into a smile.

"Does anyone want to volunteer?" Bob asked. Almost every mom around you raised her hand without hesitation.

Bradley didn't look away from you, and it was making you feel flushed. He slowly, purposefully put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow as if to say c'mon, raise your hand.

You didn't have time to be the Team Mom. You didn't even really want to be the damn Team Mom. It was something extra that you really didn't need to do.

But... you felt your hand slip up into the air as if gravity no longer had any hold over it. Bradley's smile grew as you sat in front of him like a little girl hoping he would call on you.

Just as Bob was about to choose a different parent, Bradley nudged him with his elbow to stop him.

"Right here," Bradley announced, nodding and gesturing to you. "She's our Team Mom." You slowly lowered your hand, and you felt a little giddy at being selected.

Bob looked a little confused with the abrupt decision, but he just smiled at you and said, "Sounds good. Thanks for volunteering. Now let's get started with our practice."

He blew his whistle, and Everett launched off the bench. You could hear him tell Bradley, "You wore a Phillies hat! Just like me!"

Bradley laughed and said, "Sure did, kiddo. Thought we could match." He glanced at you one more time before he led the kids out onto the field.

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

Bradley shouldn't feel so proud of himself right now. But he did anyway. He didn't even know what he was playing at with you. But as soon as Bob told him they needed a team parent, he wanted it to be you.

"Jesus," he muttered under his breath as he set the ball on the tee for Henry to try to hit. You were probably married. Bradley probably just made himself look like an ass. But you raised your hand anyway when he tried to silently encourage you to.

"Nice hit, Henry!" Bob said, and Bradley clapped as the kid ran for first base.

Bradley set the ball up again, this time for Everett.

"You ready?" Bradley asked, earning him a big smile. "Just keep your swing nice and steady."

He watched Everett absolutely nail the ball and hit it right past Bob. He looked up at Bradley in surprise.

"Run, Ev! Run to first base!"

Bradley watched him take off like a shot and run past Bob, only stopping once he had stomped on the base.

When Bradley glanced over to where you were sitting, the smile on your face had him fumbling to get the ball back on the tee. You waved your fingers toward where Everett was jumping up and down, and then you looked at Bradley and bit your lip. Then you waved your fingers at him too before ducking your head.

He forced his focus back to the next batter who also hit it hard enough to take a base.

"These kids are actually good," Bradley told Bob as he helped guide Amber to first base while Bob pointed Everett to second. "But we need to practice running bases next week."

"Can't wait to play the Tiny Hawks next weekend," Bob said. "The Eagles are looking good."

Bradley and Bob high fived as the kids all gathered around them in the infield at the end of practice. "Great practice, Tiny Eagles," Bradley told them. "Now get some good rest this weekend, and we will see you on Monday for our next practice!"

The kids all started to run toward the bleachers, and the coaches followed them at a more leisurely pace. "Damn," Bradley muttered when he looked toward the parking lot.

When Bob gave him a concerned look, Bradley shook his head and said, "Everett's hot mom parked by me again. I've actually been thinking about her since Monday."

Bob's mouth dropped open. "You mean the Team Mom?"

"Yeah," Bradley whispered, nearing the bleachers and watching you switch Everett's cleats for sneakers.

"You have a crush on our Team Mom?" Bob asked a little too loudly for Bradley's liking. "That's why you picked her? Is that a good idea?"

Bradley just shrugged and took a deep breath. "Too late now, yeah?"

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

You felt a tingle wash down your spine and goosebumps break out on your skin. You glanced to your left, and sure enough, the coaches were standing right there. Bob was looking at you, and Bradley was running one hand over his face and readjusting his Phillies cap.

Maybe you had imagined it. But you could still remember how he was looking at you, goading you, urging you wordlessly to raise your hand earlier.

Because he had a crush on the Team Mom? On you? There was no way.

But as you stood, Bradley headed in your direction. He smelled good again, and he was so handsome. And his voice was so deep. You really wished your other two senses had experience with him as well.

"Team Mom," he said with a smile. "Can Bob and I get your phone number for future correspondence and incidentals?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, and when he handed you his phone, you added your name and number for him.

"Thanks again for volunteering," he said with a smirk.

You didn't know what to say, and you could feel your face growing warm as your nose scrunched up in embarrassment. "No problem," you managed, but instead of leaving, he inched closer, and his smile grew.

"I hope you don't feel like I pressured you."

You just shook your head, mesmerized by the low register of his voice. "No. I'm happy to do it."

Everett suddenly popped up next to you, standing on the bleachers. "Mommy, check to see if Coach Bradley wants to come with us to see the Phillies this year. Please?"

You turned back toward Bradley, about to tell him that Everett was just being overzealous, but Bradley was grinning at Everett and adjusting the bill of his cap.

"I don't know if your dad would like that, kiddo," Bradley said, examining your face carefully.

But then Everett's face really lit up. "He wouldn't care! He doesn't even live with us anymore."

You scrunched your nose again in embarrassment. Nothing like having your kid basically announce to a hot guy that your ex husband ditched you.

But Bradley's lips curved into a smirk. "How about your mom and I talk about it, kiddo?" he asked, and Everett gave him a high five. "Now that I have your number?"

You just nodded as you started to shove everything you brought into the gear bag.

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

You had scrunched your nose up again, just like a kitten, and Bradley felt the urge to reach out and touch you. He'd love to take you and Ev to a baseball game. He thought he might even like to hang out with you one on one, now that he knew Everett's dad didn't live with you any longer. But now he was wondering if you were single or seeing someone else.

Bradley watched you hurriedly packing up Everett's gear while he ran off to say bye to Bob. But Bradley didn't walk away, instead he texted you so you would have his contact information as well.

When you checked your phone, you looked up at him again and laughed. "Your name is Bradley Bradshaw? Brad Brad?"

He groaned and pretended to be annoyed, but he really wasn't. "My parents probably thought they were hilarious."

Your laughter had him grinning again. "It's not a bad name! I'm sorry I laughed." But you were still laughing.

"You're not sorry," he said with a playful glare.

When you scrunched your nose again and ducked away from him, you said, "No, I'm not."

Then Everett streaked back over and asked Bradley to walk to the parking lot with the two of you, and Bradley was helpless to say no.

"You have fun again today?" Bradley asked him as he bounced around, full of energy.

"Yes! I even hit the ball!"

"Yeah, you hit it hard. You'll be a power hitter when you make it to the major league. We just need to work on your fielding."

You were smiling but looking straight ahead at your car.

"What position do you like to play?" Everett asked, eyes wide as he looked up at Bradley.

"Usually shortstop. Sometimes second base."

"Did you used to play for the Padres or something?" Everett asked, completely in awe.

Bradley just laughed. "No, kiddo. I played in college. Then I joined the Navy, because I definitely was not good enough to play for the Padres."

"You're in the Navy?" you asked him as Bradley opened Everett's door and took the gear bag from your shoulder. Even touching your body through your suit coat was enough to require Bradley to take an extra breath before answering you.

"Yeah. So is Bob. We're both aviators."

"Wow," you whispered. "Impressive."

"Mommy! I'm hungry!" Everett called from the backseat as Bradley placed the bag on the floor.

"Me too, Ev. I'll get dinner ready as soon as we get home," you promised him, and Bradley could tell you were a good mom. You kind of reminded him of Carole Bradshaw, if he was being honest.

"Be good, and listen to your mom," Bradley told Everett as he closed the back door and then opened yours. "See you on Monday."

"See you then," you replied softly, slipping into your seat before Bradley gently closed your door.

He waved at Everett who was reaching his arm out the window as you pulled away, and then he climbed into the Bronco and headed to the Hard Deck.

Bob was already there when Bradley arrived, and Nat was on them right away. "You two look adorable in your matching Tiny Eagles jerseys."

"Thanks, Nat. I feel adorable. Do you feel adorable, Bob?"

Bob just blushed and walked away with his cup of peanuts.

"So how are the moms treating you?" Nat asked as they both waited for drinks at the bar.

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Just fine."

"Are you hooking up with one of them yet?" she asked casually.

"What the fuck, Nat? No! I'm there to coach the kids!"

"Chill, Rooster! It's so easy to get you riled up when you're trying to hide something! Bob said you have a crush on one of the moms."

He just shook his head and thanked Jimmy for his beer. "I don't. She's just cute is all. Not my type. Never gonna be my type," he promised, heading toward the pool table. And as if he was trying to make his point to Nat, he chatted up the first woman who approached him and left with her number. He wasn't going to call her, but Nat didn't need to know that.

He didn't even save the number in his phone, because yours was already in there.

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

In an effort to get that mustache and those biceps out of your mind, you called Frank on Saturday afternoon and agreed to head over to his place.

He never cooks in his condo kitchen, and he hates when anything is messy, so you're not sure if you want to stay over or not. But you pack a bag just in case.

When you get there, he has Thai takeout waiting along with a bottle of prosecco. "I'm glad you decided to come over," Frank whispered, running his hand up along your leggings while you tried to eat.

"Yeah," you agreed halfheartedly. "Me too."

How had your life been reduced to this? Sleeping with a man you didn't have feelings for after ending a marriage to a man who never loved you? You wouldn't allow yourself to dwell on it for too long.

"Let's head to the bedroom," he told you, snatching you out of your seat as soon as you finished your last bite of food.

As Frank ran his hands along your body and undressed you, it was easy enough to close your eyes and let your mind drift a little bit. Then his hands felt good, running up your sides and removing your shirt. It felt nice when he removed your bra and squeezed your breasts. It was even lovely when he pushed you down onto his bed and pressed you into the mattress with his weight. But when he started fucking you, it was just so mediocre. He somehow lasted too long, and you knew that you'd never be able to get off with him tonight.

"You're so sexy, baby. Am I making you feel good?" Frank asked you softly.

You let your disappointment wash over you, but Frank didn't seem to notice the sad little gasps you made as he came before withdrawing himself and removing the condom.

You checked your phone as you got dressed, and you nearly dropped it on the floor. You had a text from Bradley. A screenshot of ticket options for the Phillies vs Padres game the following month.

Bradley Bradshaw: Do you think Ev would prefer to sit behind home plate or in the outfield?

Now your heart was beating faster. Now you felt a little silly inside. Now you could imagine getting yourself worked up for a healthy orgasm.

"Everything okay? You keep looking at your phone," Frank said as he pulled his underwear back on.

"Actually...." you started, and the lie was out of your mouth before you could stop it. "It's my sister. I need to go pick up Everett. But thanks for dinner."

Frank kissed you softly, holding your body against his before you broke away with a quick goodnight. You practically ran across the parking lot and jumped into your car with a smile on your face. Then you responded to the text.

Everett is going to think any seat is the best seat.

Bradley responded almost immediately, which shocked you since it was eight o'clock on Saturday night.

Bradley Bradshaw: Well then why don't you tell me where you'd like to sit.

You pictured yourself sitting in his lap, and you felt very warm. When you started your car, you turned on the air conditioner as you drove away.

His lap.

You could picture yourself there so easily, like you'd already spent time snuggled up with him.

What was wrong with you?! You barely knew this man!

It only took you five minutes to get to your house, and as soon as you walked in, your hand was sliding down inside the front of your leggings and into your underwear. You eased yourself down onto your couch as you touched yourself exactly how Frank never seemed to be able to.

You stroked your clit just right with your middle finger, and then you came so quickly, it surprised you.

When you caught your breath, you located your phone and responded.

Your call, Coach. What view do you like the best?

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

Bradley was sitting at his kitchen island, considering all the filthy things he wanted to send back to you.

You were definitely flirting with him now, right? You had to be single, right?

He quickly typed out his response and hit send before he could change his mind.

Any seat where I can see you.

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

I am thrilled by how much love you all had for the first part of this story! I hope you keep on loving Coach Bradley! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 3

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@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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shitapril · 2 months ago

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okay so you know that little video daniel made for max congratulating him on his 4th world championship ? that got me very much in my maxiel feels so here's a little piece (drabble ? no idea) that i wrote about it. this is my first time writing anything rpf so please be nice (i'll delete this in like a day lol)

also vid i'm referring to : https://www.instagram.com/reel/DDABqM6sNfW/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Max didn’t particularly understand why the team thought this was a good idea. Apparently winning a fourth world championship warranted a round up of all the people that had the fortune, or perhaps misfortune, of being his teammate, as well as the people vying for a spot next to him in the future. Whatever, if the team wants to take time to make videos for the internet without pestering him for his involvement, Max can make the effort to watch them.

It felt a little cruel, to ask for well-wishes and congratulations from the people who once had just as much a chance as he had at this victory that was now his alone. Not once, not twice, but four times in a row. Okay, so maybe they didn’t have that much of an equal chance, not with the team’s blatant coveting of his imminent glory in the sport, but Max didn’t waste time with notions of guilt or sympathy. The nature of their sport didn’t allow for such frivolities.

Daniel was a stark reminder of the team’s partisanship. Because Daniel was suddenly there, and he’s calling him a bad man, and he’s just saying things that don’t mean very many things, and then suddenly he’s being painfully sincere, and Max isn’t so sure he can handle it. That was just Daniel all over again – so genuine, so empathetic, so happy.

He has a wide, blinding smile on his face, and it seemed to reach his eyes again. His skin was flushed a healthy pink, as if he’d been in the sun again. His accent sounded a lot stronger than the last time he spoke with him and suddenly Max missed him so much. Sure, there was the odd text here and there, but it hadn’t really been Daniel and Max for a while now.

He thanks the team, short and a little absentmindedly, but makes sure his gratitude is conveyed. Somehow, the team always seemed aware of his affection for Daniel, sometimes to his own detriment.

He thought of those nights, when he would stay up with Daniel after another team debrief, and they’d dream about winning world championships. Daniel would offer him one of those honey toffees he always carried around, and max would refuse because they were so sweet and really how could Daniel stomach all that sweetness and Daniel would just shrug and grin and continue to regal him with his on-track antics. And Max would listen, as if he hadn’t watched that very moment on repeat on his little, battered iPod a hundred times. Daniel seemed so sure then, and Max truly believed he would do all those things he confessed to Max he wanted to do. Surely he would win a World Championship, he’d win two, maybe three, hell how many ever he wanted. Max had only hoped he’d be there next to him, to share his victories with him. And perhaps his losses too, maybe even a life together. Max had really, really hoped.

But now he sits in his driver room, left alone to prepare for another race, one that almost seems futile because he’s already won the championship. Not once, not twice, not even thrice, but four times, and Daniel hadn’t won, no, not even once. Daniel wasn’t even here anymore.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #maxiel #fanfic #rpf #sports rpf #motorsports rpf #f1 rpf #f1 rpf fic #maxiel fic #writing #qatar gp 2024 #las vegas gp 2024 #f1 fanfic

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coimbrabertone · 1 month ago

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MotoGP and the KTM Situation

So...KTM's parent company, Pierer Mobility Group, is in a bit of a mess.

A $3 billion in the red kind of mess.

How did this happen? Well, the short answer is that Pierer Mobility Group and KTM expanded too fast, too quickly, and now their debt is catching up with them. As for the long story, well...

Stefan Pierer, an Austrian businessman, founded an investment company called Cross Industries (what is now Pierer Mobility Group) in 1987, and in 1992, he took over KTM Motorrad in his native Austria. In 1994, KTM launched the Duke line, which took the traditionally dirt-bike focused KTM brand into the road bike business for the first time.

Dirt bikes remained a key element of KTM's business - and racing dirt bikes in things like Motocross and the Dakar Rally is a huge part of KTM's identity - but the allure of road bikes is what we'll be focusing on for this story.

A series of adventure and supermoto bikes followed, before in 2003, KTM entered Grand Prix Motorcycle Racing for the first time. While Ducati entered into the 4-stroke 990cc top class that same year, KTM instead focused their efforts on the 2-stroke 125cc class, as well as the 250cc class from 2005 onwards.

They took their first win at the 2004 Malaysian Grand Prix when Casey Stoner won the 125cc during his only season on KTM machinery, followed by a championship challenge the very next year. Mika Kallio won at Estoril, the Sachsenring, Motegi, and Valencia, whilst teammate Gabor Talmacsi won at Mugello, Assen, and Qatar. Qatar and Valencia were 1-2 finishes for KTM, and ultimately, Kallio finished second in the 125cc standings while Talmacsi finished third. Julian Simon on a third bike would win in the wet at Donington Park and finish eighth, putting three KTMs in the top ten in 125s in 2005 - a very respectable showing in just their third season competing.

Kallio would again finish second in 125 in 2006, with three wins to his name, whilst in 250cc, Hiroshi Aoyama won at Turkey and Japan, finishing third in those standings.

Aoyama and Kallio would both compete in 250cc in 2007, with Aoyama winning at the Sachsenring and Malaysia, while Kallio won in the wet at Motegi and then again at the season finale in Valencia. Aoyama would finish sixth while Kallio was seventh.

2008 would mark a full barreled 250 effort with Aoyama and Kallio joined by returning third bike man Julian Simon. Kallio would perform well, winning at Jerez, a wet Shanghai, and at a dry Donington Park, but Aoyama and Simon would go winless. The 125cc effort had also atrophied by now, with the most notable result being some rookie called Marc Marquez taking a third place at Donington.

KTM's attention was fading by this point, and their road bike efforts turned from Grand Prix racing and towards their new RC 1190 superbike. Additionally, the X-Bow track car gave KTM an exciting new toy to play with.

Their Grand Prix efforts were winding down.

KTM only competed in the 125cc class in 2009, and with Marc Marquez only managing a single podium at Jerez, they decided not to continue for 2010.

Marc Marquez in 2010 would move to the Red Bull Ajo team riding a Derbi/Aprilia RSA-125 and would win 10 races to dominate the championship.

So yeah...it wasn't a rider problem, their bike just kinda sucked by that point.

Meanwhile, KTM continued to expand their company. In 1995, they acquired Husaberg AB, a manufacturer established to keep dirt bike production in Sweden after Husqvarna's parent company Cagiva moved their production to Varese, Italy. KTM would in 2003 move Husaberg production to Mattighofen, Austria, making the whole thing rather pointless. Next, in 2007, came ventures with Indian giant Bajaj, who began distributing KTMs in India in exchange for a 14.5% stake.

In 2011 a similar collaboration would begin with CFMoto in China, which in 2017, became a downright joint venture between them and KTM.

Then in 2013, Husqvarna - now in BMW's hands - was sold to the Pierer Mobility Group, who promptly merged it and Husaberg, so instead of being produced in Sweden or Italy, it was all now in Austria.

In 2012, KTM would reenter GP racing with the introduction of the 4-stroke 250cc Moto3 class. They'd win the championship with Sandro Cortese, while in 2013...they won everything. Maverick Vinales in first, Alex Rins in second, Luis Salom in third, and Alex Marquez in fourth were all on KTM RC250GPs.

Fifth place was Jonas Folger on a KTM-engined Kalex.

Complete and utter domination.

On the back of this, KTM planned to enter the top class for the first time. With a V4 engine, a steel trellis frame, and Red Bull sponsorship, KTM entered the RC16 in the 2016 Valencian GP ahead of a full debut in 2017.

Who rode the RC16 at Valencia? None other than Mika Kallio, the Finn returning to KTM as their test and development rider after stints with Ducati in MotoGP and Marc VDS in Moto2.

Pol Espargaro and Bradley Smith would be their full-time riders for 2017 and 2018, with Pol scoring KTM's first podium at the 2018 Valencian GP - KTM sure does have a weird affinity with Valencia, eh?

2019 would mark two big changes: first is that Johann Zarco replaced Bradley Smith, second is that KTM gained a satellite team for the first time. Yup, after competing as Monster Energy Yamaha for ten years, Tech3 became Red Bull KTM Tech3, with Hafizh Syahrin and Miguel Oliveira riding for them.

Zarco would force his way out of KTM before the year was even over, forcing Kallio to fill in for him at the final six races, but other than that...KTM's 2019 was more of a building year. They collected some points while, in the background, KTM began to move away from the steel trellis, aluminum swingarm, and old school screamer engine.

The frame became a more typical steel/aluminum hybrid, the swingarm a radical carbon fiber, and the engine conformed to the now ubiquitous big bang firing order.

The results? Rookie Brad Binder wins the 2020 Czech Grand Prix in just his third start, while on the Tech3 bike, Miguel Oliveira wins at Styria and Portimao.

KTM also took the opportunity to buy out the struggling GasGas brand in 2019, giving Pierer Mobility Group its third brand.

KTM was winning in MotoGP, it was expanding its business, but it was also already signing its own death warrant.

With the purchase of GasGas, Pierer Mobility Group now had three different brands that were predominantly in the dirt bike business. They tried to position GasGas as the entry level brand, KTM in the middle, and the Husqvarna as a premium brand, sort of trying to be the General Motors of motorcycles, there's just two problems with that:

One: Bikes are so much more niche compared to cars.

Two: even in cars the multi-brand thing doesn't work so well, with GM killing off storied brands like Oldsmobile and Pontiac in recent memory, along with more recent ventures like Saturn and Hummer failing to carve out a niche.

Nevertheless, with COVID giving a lot of people a lot of time on their hands, KTM initially had very strong sales. Lots of people were trying out their motorcycles for the first time, and with KTM giving variety between dirt bikes, road bikes, and even teasing a return to the superbike market with the RC 990, maybe things would work out.

They did not.

KTM banked on the COVID bubble.

They spent money acquiring the likes of GasGas, Husqvarna, and now a 50.1% stake in MV Agusta as well, they banked on joint ventures with Bajaj and CFMoto giving them access to the eastern markets only to develop a reputation in India for being overpriced and having bad build quality. On top of this, KTM began the scummy business practice of hiding riding software behind a paywall, most notably with their cruise control.

(For no reason at all, I'm also going to point out that Stefan Pierer has a seat on the Mercedes-Benz supervisory board.)

The end result of all this? KTM sits on 265,000 unsold bikes. Unsold bikes which only meet Euro 5 emissions standards, meaning that when the Euro 5+ standards come into effect in March, KTM will not be able to sell those bikes in Europe, where, with 11.8% market share, KTM is the largest motorcycle manufacturer.

Furthermore, KTM was not able to pay its workers their December salaries until last Friday, the 27th. November salaries remain unpaid, and Christmas bonuses have been cut entirely.

300 jobs at KTM are expected to be cut in January.

So...with all this going on, there are some big, big question marks about whether KTM will be able to continue racing in MotoGP.

They have released a statement confirming they will race in 2025 and with KTM having already sending two of their three factory rally raid riders to Dakar - the third is out with a leg injury - that seems reasonably secure.

Beyond that? It's unclear.

It's unclear how much development KTM will be doing to stay competitive as well. Initial reports suggested that KTM has already paused development, but KTM disputes this.

Now, a recent Austrian report says that KTM plans to withdraw in 2026, citing contracts and not wanting the PR disaster of early termination. What does that mean.

Well, KTM is contracted with Dorna through 2026, the end of the current regulation cycle.

Brad Binder has two years left on his contract, while Acosta, Vinales, and Bastianini are all on multiyear deals - traditional wisdom in racing says that multiyear deals typically translate to 2 years + a 1 year optional extension.

Furthermore, an engine freeze is coming into MotoGP in 2026, which will reduce development costs.

So...I believe that this means that KTM will see out their contracts, racing through 2025 and 2026 with their current set of riders. 2025 is already budgeted and we know that's secure, while seeing out the 2026 season and leaving at the end of 2026 seems to match up with these Austrian reports.

This is still a developing story, so I may well be wrong here.

It's also important to remember that this is about more than racing, it's about the people. Many, many, many people work at KTM, both on the production bike side and on the race team. These people are going through a tough time right now with this KTM bankruptcy drama, and you have to hope things turn out well for them.

I'm not much of a KTM fan - I don't oppose them either, I suppose I'm more of a neutral then - but I'd hate to lose them in MotoGP. I'd hate even more to see people lose their jobs because the ownership chased unsustainable growth.

That COVID bubble has been vicious to the business world.

#motorsports #racing #motogp #motorcycle #motorcycles #ktm #red bull ktm factory racing #tech3 #brad binder #pedro acosta #maverick vinales #enea bastianini

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oofthwoods · 1 year ago

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VICIOUS! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: arthur leclerc likes a certain type of woman: smart, neglects intuition, and not as good as him.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: set in 2021, during echo's formula 3 season. they're both jerks to each other here :/ based on vicious by sabrina carpenter (emails i cant send pretty much defines their relationship). this is short but it's important for her future relationship with a certain someone | i used echo instead of y/n here, but tell me which one you prefer

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 2.09k

"I TRIED TO LOOK FOR THE BEST IN THE WORST BUT LIKE, FUCK ME, THAT CAUSED A COMMOTION."

As the evening progresses in Austria, the bustling noises of the city begin to fade into the background, replaced by the occasional murmur of distant conversations and the gentle swish of car tires on the damp pavement. The scent of rain lingers in the air, mixing with the subtle aroma of pine carried by a cool breeze from the nearby mountains. The warmth of the day still lingers, but it's now more tolerable, just a faint reminder of earlier heat.

Arthur paces back and forth on the soft carpet beneath his bare feet, his footsteps creating a restless rhythm that echoes in his mind. Every so often, he runs his fingers along the curtains, feeling the delicate and cool fabric against his skin. But it's as if he's only scratching at the surface of the problem consuming him.

The third stage of the Formula 3 championship went off without a hitch for the three races. Arthur claimed the fastest lap in the second race, while Y/N took home first place in that same race. Prema and Art teams were locked in a heated competition for points during the first half of the championship, with the French team ultimately taking the lead after Frederik Vesti's win at the last race in the Red Bull Ring.

Throughout that weekend, Arthur barely spoke to her. Despite being swamped with commitments such as hectic meetings, exhaustive tests, and endless interviews, they used to make an effort to connect even if it was just a quick call. However, her messages were always met with prolonged periods of silence before receiving a brief and unenthusiastic response, leaving her feeling confused and frustrated. Every attempt to call resulted in reaching voicemail without any explanation or apology for his absence.

Despite her victory in the second race, he was not one of the people who congratulated her. He also did not attend the podium ceremony for the third race, where she secured an important second place for her team. She had sent him messages, but he only responded with a short "thank you" for her congratulations on earning extra points for setting the fastest lap. He completely ignored her invitation to join her and some other drivers in a celebration.

She finally couldn't take the silence any longer and broke it with frustration. "Can we at least talk? We're not kids anymore, Arthur," she said, sitting on his cluttered bed.

"Are you leaving for France tomorrow?" Arthur asked quietly, still refusing to look at her as he packed his suitcase.

"No. Fernando wants me to go to Madrid and then Silverstone with him during my break. The team doesn't need me at the factory, so I have some free time," Y/N replied with a heavy sigh, feeling the tension between them.

She received only a grunt as a response, which was enough for her to know that it was time to speak up. "Are you going to turn around and actually use words, or are you going to keep grunting like some kind of primitive?" Her voice held a mix of determination and disappointment, reflecting her growing frustration with the lack of communication between them.

Arthur spun on his heels and made his way slowly towards Y/N, his face betraying a medley of conflicting emotions. She stood up from the bed, keeping a close eye on his expression in anticipation of what might happen next.

Their relationship was still new; they had met at a party thrown by a mutual friend who was also one of her teammates. That night, everything seemed to align perfectly for their chance encounter, and the initial spark of attraction quickly grew into something more profound. Through casual touches, shared smiles, and intimate conversations about their interests and preferences, they were building the fragile yet promising foundations of their relationship.

He paused, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the perfect words to express himself. She watched with curiosity, waiting for him to speak.

"Why didn't you let me overtake you?" Arthur asked, sounding unsure.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, trying to comprehend his question. She repeated it in her head, trying to understand the underlying meaning. "What do you mean?"

Arthur seemed annoyed by her confusion and scrunched his face in response. "In yesterday's race. I was right behind you, but you wouldn't move out of the way."

Her arms automatically crossed in front of her chest, her tone becoming defensive. She didn't like where this conversation was headed. "Why should I let you pass, Arthur? I don't remember breaking any rules to earn my spot."

Arthur released a frustrated sigh, feeling the tension between them escalating with each word they exchanged. He closed the distance between them, hoping to find some understanding in her eyes.

"I'm not accusing you of breaking any rules, cherie." His tone softened, attempting to diffuse the situation. "I just want to know why you didn't make room for me to pass. It seemed like you were intentionally blocking me."

Y/N felt the weight of Arthur's words as an accusation, and it only added to her growing frustration. She couldn't believe they were having this argument now, when there was so much at stake for both of them.

"Of course I was blocking you! We're competitors, remember?" Her voice was firm, but she laced it with a confused laugh. "My team needs those points. I need those points. Why would I let you have them?"

Arthur took a step back, caught off guard by the intensity of Y/N's response. He looked both surprised and disappointed, struggling to process her strong emotions.

"I just thought you would understand," he muttered, his voice trailing off as if he regretted speaking at all. Unable to meet her gaze, he turned away.

She felt a surge of anger within her, a mix of frustration and sadness. She was taken aback that Arthur would question her integrity on the track, especially considering their intimate relationship off of it.

"Understand?" She repeated, each word dripping with disbelief. "Arthur, I want that title just as much as you do. It's not my responsibility to make it easy for you or anyone else. You know that."

There was a tense moment of silence between them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at the feeling that something was unraveling between them, something that might never be fully repaired.

"I know," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of weakness. "But I thought we were more than just competitors."

Her expression softened briefly, a flicker of sadness crossing her features before she steeled herself with determination.

"Arthur, I can't sacrifice my career for our relationship," she said, her voice softening slightly. "We both knew what we were getting into when we started dating."

Arthur's voice turned defensive as he tried to justify his actions. "Don't you think it would have been better if I had won?" He glanced at his girlfriend, his eyes pleading for understanding. "You're still new to this category; there will be other chances for you."

She raised her eyebrows, her gaze unwavering and intense. "So, you're saying it would be acceptable for me to lose simply because I'm a rookie?" Her tone was sharp, like a blade cutting through the air.

Arthur paused, searching for the right words to explain himself. "No, that's not what I meant," he stammered, but Y/N cut him off.

"Did you give the same speech to all the other rookies too?" her sarcasm evident.

Arthur's discomfort flickered across his face before he turned back to meet her unwavering stare. "The other rookies aren't in a relationship with me," he retorted with a hint of harshness.

Y/N fell silent, digesting his words. Then, she stepped closer to him, locking eyes with determination.

"Tell me honestly, Arthur," she began calmly yet emotion thick in her voice. "Did you want me to let you win because I'm a rookie or because I'm your girlfriend?"

Her question hit Arthur like a punch to the gut, leaving him struggling to find the right words. He couldn't hide from the truth any longer.

"I…I'm not sure," he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as uncertainty and vulnerability seeped through. "Maybe it's a bit of both."

Her expression hardened, her eyes showing disappointment and frustration in equal measure. She had expected more from him, hoped that he would acknowledge his own flaws and confront them head-on.

"So you don't trust me as a competitor, as a driver?" she asked, her voice betraying a slight tremor of emotion that she was trying to contain.

Arthur's heart raced as he met her intense gaze. He knew his words had hurt her and shattered the trust she had in him.

"That's not what I meant, cherie." He struggled to find the right words, but they sounded hollow even to his own ears. "It's just…I don't know how to handle the fact that you're better than me."

She was filled with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to scream at him, to tell him that his insecurities were not her responsibility and she couldn't sacrifice her own ambitions for his approval. But at the same time, she felt a twinge of empathy for him, understanding that his insecurity came from a place of deep vulnerability.

"Arthur, I can't change who I am because of your doubts," she said firmly. "And I won't apologize for excelling at what I do."

Arthur's voice took on a smooth, almost patronizing tone, a subtle edge of superiority laced within his words. "You must be feeling quite pleased with yourself, wouldn't you agree?" he mused, his tone carrying a delicate sting. "Stepping onto the stage as a rookie and quickly grabbing the spotlight. Impressive, definitely, but experience and dedication? Those are qualities that develop over time, babe."

Her brow furrowed slightly, a mix of disbelief and hurt flickering across her features. "I just want us to understand each other," she started, her tone gentle yet resolute. "I'm not trying to belittle what you've achieved. But it's not about placing blame. If you truly have the experience and talent you speak of, shouldn't overtaking me come as second nature, without needing to ask?"

Arthur's cheeks flushed with a sudden surge of anger, the tension between them palpable. "You underestimate what it takes to rise to the top," he retorted sharply, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Talent is one thing, but true success in this realm requires more than just skill. Experience is the key that sets winners apart from the rest."

Her eyes narrowed subtly, a flicker of impatience dancing within them. "What makes you assume I lack dedication and experience?" she questioned calmly, her tone holding a hint of challenge. "Just because my journey in this sport hasn't been as long as yours doesn't diminish the effort I've put in."

Arthur emitted a dry chuckle, his resentment barely concealed. "You've had quite the advantageous start, haven't you?" he remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You believe your familial connections and wealth entitle you to success? Reality doesn't operate on such privileges."

Her hands tightened into fists, a surge of defiance coursing through her. She refused to let his patronizing remarks undermine her accomplishments. Her voice remained composed yet firm, slicing through the tension. "Privileges? It's ironic coming from someone who's thrived under their brother's shadow," she countered, her gaze ablaze with determination. "You stand there, relying on your average talent to compensate for the countless doors opened by your surname."

Arthur's complexion deepened with a flush, a blend of shame and anger twisting his expression. He despised the constant comparisons to his brother, weary of residing in his sibling's imposing shadow. This resentment fueled his determination to establish his identity.

"I'm not my brother," he snapped with intensity.

She met his gaze steadily, her defiance unyielding. "No, you're not. And that's the problem," she countered sharply, her tone slicing through the air.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the air crackling with unspoken animosity as they stood facing each other. Her eyes burned with fury, her hands clenched tightly by her sides. She was done playing nice.

"I'm not carrying anyone's burdens," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I have my own stuff to deal with. You don't like the fact that your girlfriend is better than you? Consider this problem solved."

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley , @stinkyjax , @namgification , @judespoision , @cha-hot , @disneyprincemuke , @itsjustkhaos , @trouble-sistar , @ihateyougunthersteiner , @treehouse-mouse , @cherry-piee , @fangirl125reader , @cassie0sstuff, @be-your-coffee-pot , @elijahslover , @flannelforthetoads , @m0cha-bunny , @ironmaiden1313 , @glitterquadricorn , @spideybv28 , @celesteblack08 , @thatgirlthatreadswattpad , @itscrzy, @canihavemyhoodieback , @eugene-emt-roe

#f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 imagines #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #f1 x reader #fem!driver reader #f1 x fem!driver #fem!driver #formula one scenarios #formula 1 scenarios #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagines #arthur leclerc scenarios #⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍙 ˓ the echo ﹗

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