#livery content

[janjanenrico]

Rosato Transport 886188

Coach Builder: Santarosa Motorworks, Inc. (The Philippines) Model: Daewoo BS106/SRMWI Cityliner Gen 2 Coach

Originally Made on February 5, 2023 by Eddrian Dhale Enriquez on Facebook Repainted on May 4rd, 2024.

CTTO: @wristwatchcollector-2024 Livery by Renato (pantranco_bus)

[motorsportbarbie13]

Post It - LN4

when lando stumbles upon a random tiktok of a pretty american influencer, he can't stop himself from sliding into her DMs. what happens next is more than both of them ever bargained for.

warnings: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT. (spoiler alert, it's not) (i blame @lestapiastrisgirl. She’s a bad influence 🤭) no warnings really, i just needed to have some soft boyfriend coded lando in my life again after how dirty i did him in 'aftermath'. ENJOY THE NEW SERIES MY BABIES! 🫶🏻 pairing: lando norris x influencer!reader word count: 3.7k words (plus SMAU posts)

Lando should have been paying attention. He should have been paying attention to Jack Whitehall standing up on stage, making jokes at Max and George’s expense. He absolutely should not have been using the down time between livery reveals to stalk your social media profiles but here he was. It wasn’t his fault trying to figure you out was way more interesting than anything the FIA and this stupidly awkward night had to offer. 

He had been scrolling his FYP earlier in the day while McLaren comms staff had bustled around the Hilton conference room, his attention pulled away from the boring media briefing Zak and Andrea were trying to get him to care about, when you had popped up on his screen. It was an innocent video, one that he usually would have flipped right on by but something had his thumb pausing, hovering over the screen instead of swiping away. 

You were in well lit hallway, lip syncing to that new Gracie Abrams song that was all over the place looking like you didn’t have a care in the world. Your smile was infectious as you held eye contact with the camera, arms thrown to your sides as you sang your heart out. It looked like you were about to go somewhere, a gray woolen overcoat tugged over your shoulders as a pink and white knit jumper peaked out from underneath. 

It was only when Oscar had asked him how many times he was going to listen to that thirty seconds of song that Lando realized he’d been watching your video for an embarrassing length of time. Turning crimson, Lando had quickly favorited the video to come back to later and closed out the app. 

He’d been caught up in preparations for this stupid F1 75 event for the rest of the evening but the moment he’d had a break, he was back stalking your socials. Your Instagram was conveniently linked to your TikTok account so it wasn't hard and the moment Lando started scrolling, he was hooked.

yourusername posted

909,102 likes liked by lando, yourbff, hannahstjohn, and others yourusername lots to catch up on... user0298 body is teeeeeea user1112 that gray dress tho! where is it from??? >>>yourusername @/aritzia!!! lando 🔥🔥🔥 (liked by author) >>>user0200 landooooo what are you doing here??? >>>user555 first in the likes too. he was QUICK

The Monegasque sun was blindingly bright, reflecting off the pristine white of Lando’s apartment balcony. He was trying to enjoy a rare moment of peace, something that he’d miss when the season started up in two weeks. Right now though, he had been back from testing in Bahrain for a few days and was leaving for Australia sometime next week. This was the last weekend of peace and quiet he’d have until summer break.

An insistent buzz shatters the quiet calm that he’d cocooned himself in, his phone blinking to life. He glanced at the screen. Rich. His personal PR manager that he’d hired after his last messy breakup to help with his image. 

“What is it, Rich?” Lando sighs. 

“Lando, we need to talk about this weekend.” Rich’s voice was sharp, a glaring contrast to the relaxed atmosphere of Lando’s apartment. 

“What about this weekend?” He asks, a knot forming in his stomach. Lando knew where this was going. 

“Allegra.” Rich says, his voice bright with faux enthusiasm. “She’s coming to Monaco this weekend. We need some content before the start of the season. Really amp up the exposure before you get too busy.” 

Allegra. Or Allie as she insisted Lando call her in private, but always Allegra in public. She was also managed by Rich, who was the one that had introduced them last year with the sole purpose of having them hit it off and start dating. When that hadn’t materialized, Rich had started meddling, sending her to events that he knew Lando would be at, having her come to Monaco and follow him around like a lost puppy. 

It had worked though. The rumors started swirling and before he knew it, Lando and Allie were rumored to be dating. He had never confirmed the relationship, always insisting that he was single and Allie had followed suit, coyly grinning in interviews when the model had been asked specifically about him. He hadn’t fought it though. Maybe he was a coward or maybe he just liked the attention, but it had certainly brought a certain degree of recognition to his name in the months that he had been linked to her. He never confirmed it but he never denied it either. 

And then he had met you. 

“No.” Lando says flatly, cutting him off. “Nope. I’m done with this.” 

“Done?” On the other end of the line, Rich sputters. “What do you mean, ‘done’? Think of your brand, your image! You have a merch drop happening in a few weeks and a rebrand with Quadrant! You need this attention.” 

“I don’t need her to bring me attention.” Lando scoffs. “I’m tired of playing this game. I’m tired of Allie. She’s…she’s weird, Rich. And this whole thing is a joke. I know you’ve seen the gossip pages laughing at me. Laughing at her. I’ve had enough.” 

“Lando.” Rich tuts, his tone taking on that of someone scolding a small child. The heat rises in Lando’s cheeks as he stands, pacing the balcony. “She’s a social media powerhouse. She brings in millions of impressions. People love talking about her, speculating about if she’s with you or not. This is a business.” 

“Business?” Lando laughs, cold and bitter. “This is a manufactured relationship, Rich. It’s fake and it’s draining. I don’t want her here. I don’t want her anywhere near me anymore. Either you tell her I’m done or I will, you choose.” 

“You’re being irrational. This is a PR strategy and it’s working! We’re getting the numbers, the attention! It’s everything you hired me to do!” 

Lando drags his hand over his face, scrubbing at the migraine that he feels forming behind his eyes. “I don’t care about the numbers.” He says tightly, his mind flickering to you and the way you’ve been a bit distant this week. “I care about my sanity. I care about being genuine and this? This thing with her? That is the opposite of genuine.” 

“You’re throwing away a huge opportunity.” Rich warns, frustration sneaking into his voice. “This is so unprofessional.” 

“Unprofessional?” Lando shouts, his anger getting the better of him. “You’re the one being unprofessional. You’re treating me like a product, not a person. The only thing you care about is your fucking paycheck, nothing else.” Lando’s chest heaves, his breath coming in short spurts. 

“Lando, calm down -” 

“No.” Lando spits. “No, I won’t calm down. I’m done with this. I’m done with you and I’m done with Allie. This whole charade is over.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, trying to control his rage. “You’re fired, Rich.” 

He slams the phone down, not even giving Rich the opportunity to respond. The abrupt silence amplifies the sound of his pounding heart as he sits down again. He stares out at the glittering expanse of the Mediterranean, the anger still simmering within him. He feels a strange mix of relief and anxiety. He had just burned a big bridge but it was a bridge he had never wanted to cross in the first place. He knew there would be consequences but for the first time in a long time, Lando felt like he was in control. 

Now, if only he could get you to return his calls. 

You thought you’d been prepared for the activity of the paddock. Hannah had spent enough time during the flight over telling you what to expect but the crowds in Shanghai were nothing short of overwhelming. The smell of engine oil and popcorn permeated the air, a strange mixture that tickled your nose in a slightly unpleasant way. You tried to calm the anxiety that was settling deep in your chest, the tight constricting feeling pulling at your ribs in a way that had you desperately wanting to go back to the hotel room. 

You knew it was strange, someone with as much anxiety and issues with crowds being an influencer like you were but most of the time you had control over it. You had asked Hannah so many questions about what to expect but nothing could have prepared you for the way the crowds crushed in on you even in the paddock. 

Liam had come to the track early to meet with his engineers before the practice and sprint qualifying. and Hannah had been left to your own devices. The crowds were one thing, you knew you’d get used to them eventually and that you just had to work your way through the panic but there was something else causing your shoulders to hitch up tightly towards your ears and your jaw tighten with every flash of orange you saw: Lando. 

It had been a few months since he slid into your DMs and at first is had been fun. He was charming, texting you nearly all day with all sorts of questions and banter, FaceTiming you while you were curled up in bed in your Boston apartment, talking about the fast lives you both lived. It was intoxicating getting attention from someone like Lando. His attention felt like the sun, all warm and welcoming. You knew there was chemistry there but you lived in Boston and he split is time between London and Monaco. You had expected him to invite you out to see him soon or at least bring up meeting somewhere half way.

But then the pictures had surfaced online. 

Lando walking around the busiest part of Monaco with his best friend Max, Max’s girlfriend Pietra and a blonde model named Allegra. It was so painfully clear he was with her from the shots of him driving her around in one of his many cars three weekends in a row.

You felt so stupid. Getting with a guy that was clearly comfortable being publicly seen on a double date was a hard no, you had more respect for yourself and Allegra to even touch that kind of drama. Of course, there was an endless debate on if they were even together or not, it didn’t take much to find the online gossip pages that spent a lot of time trying to figure out if they were an item. Lando had never publicly confirmed the relationship and neither had Allegra, both insisting they were just friend and Lando was single. 

But the pictures were hard to deny. 

So you had ghosted him. 

You didn’t want to be drug into the drama that seemed to surround the model, not with how well your content was doing lately. You had a huge following in the states and were starting to get attention internationally. You knew the last thing your PR manager would want to see was stories about you plastered all over the gossip pages. You had worked too hard to cultivate a wholesome reputation to be drug into a love triangle controversy, even if it ended up being manufactured by the press. You walked a fine line between wanting to be talked about and wanting to avoid being laughed at.

So when Hannah, one of your best friends from the influencer world, had invited you to tag along with her to the Chinese Grand Prix in April, you had hesitated. No one knew about you and Lando talking, not even your best friends. Sure, Lando had followed you and commented on a few of your posts but everyone chalked that up to you being friends with Hannah and Lando’s reputation to hit on pretty girls whenever he was active on social media. It hadn’t gained a ton of attention so you were able to pretty much ignore it.

But you couldn’t turn down Hannah’s invitation without raising some sort of suspicion. China had been on your bucket list of places to visit since you were little and you had enough miles saved up this year to be able make the long flight in a lie-flat first class seat with to your group of friends. You really had no excuse, so in the end you had agreed. 

But now that you were here, the possibility of running into Lando in the flesh after you had ghosted him hanging heavy over your head and the crowds pressing in, you were totally regretting your life choices. 

“You okay?” Hannah’s voice breaks through your racing thoughts, pulling you back to the present. 

“What?” You stutter, trying to bring your focus back to where you were in the moment. 

“Are you okay?” Your friend asks softly, eyeing you like she knows something is going on but can’t figure out what. “You just seem a little…tense.” 

You reach up to pull your hair off your neck, suddenly feeling like your skin is just a little too tight for the rest of your body. “I’m fine, just a little overwhelmed. This place is a lot.” 

Hannah’s eyes soften. She’s well aware of your anxiety and how you sometimes struggle with crowds. While she doesn’t struggle with the same issues, if there’s one thing you appreciate about your friend its that she has an uncanny ability to read your moods and empathize with you when it matters most.

“I know, but you get used to it quick. Liam has some engineering meetings before practice so he’s busy for another hour or so. Do you want to go hang out in hospitality? Get cooled down before practice?” 

You adjust your sunglasses on your nose before nodding, “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m sorry, you don’t have to stick around with me all day, I know you want to be with Liam.” 

Hannah waves a hand, dismissing your concern with one movement, “Stop that. That man gets so locked in before he gets into the car, he probably forgets I exist. I told him I’d be in the garage for practice but we’re free until then. Come on, we can get some content for TikTok. Didn’t you say you wanted to do a Chinese travel vlog?” 

Suddenly, a blur of green and yellow catches your attention from on your left. A scooter, driven by a distracted man in a green racing suit, was flying down the sidewalk at breakneck speed headed straight for you. He was going so fast you didn’t have enough time to react once you registered what was about to happen. 

You shut your eyes, bracing for impact, as a startled gasp tumbles off your lips. But the impact doesn’t come when you expect it as a strong set of hands pulls you out of the path of the scooter. The man on the scooter continues on, zipping down the sidewalk without so much as an apology as you stumble back, straight into the arms of the person that just saved you from being paddock road kill. The body is warm, muscled and the set of hands go straight to your hips, steadying you when you fight to maintain your balance. 

“Oh my god!” Hannah shrieks as you struggle out of the person’s embrace, spinning around to see who you had just collapsed into. 

“Jesus Christ, thank…” The words die in the back of your throat when you see the papaya and black race suit of your savior. 

“You.” The British accent that you’d spent the last few weeks trying to forget sends shivers down your spine. 

Shit. 

“Oh. Hi, Lando.” You say sheepishly, lifting your sunglasses off your face so you can make eye contact with the driver. 

“Oh hi Lando?” Hannah sputters, clearly confused. “Do you two know each other?” 

“No.” You reply at the same time Lando says “Yes.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out if it would be bad for your reputation if you punched him. Hannah’s eyes bounce back and forth between you and Lando, who is standing there looking just as confused as she is. If you’re not mistaken, there’s also a touch of hurt that flickers in his eyes as he looks you up and down. 

“Are you okay?” Lando asks, breaking the tension. 

Your eyes dip to your waist, where Lando’s hand still rests heavily on your hip. When he notices he’s still holding you, he pulls his arm back quickly, running it through his curls trying to look casual while his brows dip together, confusion still clearly settled on his handsome features. 

“Um. Yeah, I am. Thank you, I was almost roadkill.” You laugh, but it comes out too shaky to be taken seriously. 

Hannah crosses her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed as she tries to figure out the weird tension that has settled over the two of you. 

“So, ‘yes' you two know each other but ‘no’ you don’t?” Hannah raises an eyebrow, clearly not willing to let this go. 

You shoot Lando a look that could curdle milk. “It’s…complicated.” You mumble, avoiding Hannah’s gaze. 

“Complicated how?” Hanna presses, her curiosity piqued. 

Lando shits his weight, a nervous energy radiating off of him. “We were talking for a bit.”

“Talking? Like, flirting talking?” Hannah turns to you and you swear you see a bit of hurt in her eyes. “And you didn’t tell me?” 

Guilt washes over you. You hadn’t really meant not to tell your friend, it just had never come up. “It was nothing.” You say quickly. Out of the corner of your eye you see Lando wince and your heart catches. “Just some DMs, it fizzled out after a while.” 

“Fizzled out?” Lando scoffs, his frown deepening. “You ghosted me.” 

“I’m sure you had your hands full with that other blonde to miss me that much, Lan.” You bite back, voice sharp. 

Lando’s brows furrow, “Other bl…" He pauses, the dots seemingly connecting in hsi mind suddenly. "You mean Allie? What does she have to do with you and me?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” You say with a shrug. “You looked pretty busy with her in Monaco before the season started. I just assumed you didn’t have time for me.” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as possible but you can’t keep the anger from slipping into your voice. The fact that he has a cute little nickname for her burrows under your skin more than it should.

Deep down you know you had zero claim over him, so being this angry feels over the top. You know you’re overreacting. You had never even met Lando in person before this moment, so why was the jealousy burning through your bloodstream so intense? 

Hannah’s eyes dart between you and Lando, her expression a mix of confusion something else you couldn’t place. “Okay, so this is a bit more intense than I expected.” She raises her hands in surrender. “You know what? I think I’m going to go check on Liam. He’s probably wondering where I am.” 

She gives you a knowing look, a look that says ‘I’ll let you sort this out but I expect a full rundown of what the fuck just happened here later tonight.’.

“Maybe you two should talk, alone. Just try not to kill each other.” 

With that, Hannah turns on her heel and disappears towards the Red Bull garages, leaving you and Lando standing awkwardly in the middle of the bustling paddock. The noise of the crowd presses in on you, amping up your already high anxiety and filling the silence that stretches between you. 

Lando looks at you, his expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. He digs his hands deep into his pockets, unsure of where to go from here. The absolute last person he’d expected to see here today was you. Finding out you were mad at him just when he had made the decision that you wanted nothing to do with him and he needed to move on was a little overwhelming. He’d been hurt when you’d stopped returning his messages and answering his calls. Frustrated that you hadn’t given him an answer when he asked you what was wrong. And then the season had started and he couldn't handle it all. It still ate at him at night, the fact that he had allowed you to slip out of his fingers, especially since firing Rich and ending things with Allie.

So maybe this was the universe giving him a second chance.

“So,” He starts, voice low. “We’re just going to pretend like nothing happened?” 

You throw your arms out to your side, exasperated sigh falling from your lips. “What was I supposed to think, Lando? I open up my Instagram one morning to see a shit ton of pap photos of you and her, the day after you and I spent almost five hours on FaceTime together!” 

Lando cards his fingers through his curls, “I can explain that.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure you can.”  

Deep in Lando’s pocket, his phone chimes. Reluctantly he pulls it out, checking the new text message from Sophie, his press officer. “Fuck. I’ve got to go get in the car.” He sighs, scrubbing his large hand over his face. “Listen, can you please give me a chance to explain?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, mirroring Hannah’s stance from just minutes before. Your first instinct is to tell him to fuck all the way off, you’ve been too careful with your reputation to be drug into any sort of drama that that girl seems to bring. Lando gives you a look though, his green blue eyes pleading with you and you’re all but powerless against it. 

“Come on.” He coaxes, reaching out to brush his fingertips against your bare arm. You ignore the riot of goosebumps he leaves in his wake. “You’re going to look at me and tell me you didn’t come all the way to China, to a place where you knew I would absolutely be, not hoping to at least run into me?” 

“Bold of you to assume that you even cross my mind anymore, Norris.” You snip back but your words hold no bite to them and you both know it. 

Now it’s Lando’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on, baby.” Your traitorous heart stammers but you mange an indignant look as a reaction to the nickname. “I’m done with race stuff around dinner time, let me take you out somewhere nice and we can talk. Please?” 

Again with the puppy eyes. This was going to be a problem. 

“Fine.” You huff after a moment. “But don’t make me regret this, Lan.” 

The biggest smile you’ve ever seen crosses Lando’s face at your agreement. He reaches out, catching your waist in his hands, pulling you in for a hug. Neither of you notice the cameras pointed in your direction. 

“You won’t. I promise.” He murmurs in your ear before dropping a chaste kiss on your cheek. 

You don’t wipe if off. 

Grinning like a fool, Lando spins on his heel before bustling off towards the McLaren garages. He’s about 30 feet away when his head swivels back, his gaze instantly finding yours. He grins again, liking that you’d been watching him go. 

yourusername posted

602,928 likes liked by lando, hannahstjohn, redbullracing, and others yourusername Boston >>> Shanghai LETS GO hannahstjohn pretty girl! so glad you made the trip with meeeee user0029 my fave influencer and my fave sport?! YES PLEASE user928 i wish these brands would stop inviting random influencers to races and get some REAL FANS there instead >>>user9299 she's there with hannah, liam's girlfriend. just say you're jealous next time. user0299 ok but i need to know...is she a mclaren girlie or red bull??? >>>user454 she gives me ferrari vibes user223 lando in the likes again, huhhhhhh

Tag list:

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[averagenderedmanta]

In case you didn't know, you can buy officall socks from Deutsche Bahn!

And if you're wondering, YES! the forth pair in red has a little bit of delay.

[afterglowsainz]

obsessed | oscar piastri

summary: in which oscar, your boyfriend, is obsessed with franco, your ex

pairing: reader x oscar piastri, reader x ex!franco colapinto

fc: kaia gerber

a/n: overdone concept with a little twist😋

—

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe and others

yourusername date night🍷

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liked by kimi.antonelli, juanmanuel and others

francolapinto break well spent 🇦🇷 now back to the office

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oscarpiastri between races 🇦🇺

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liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and others

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tagged francisca.cgomes

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francisca.cgomes are you the dinner? 🥵

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pierregasly 🤨

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liked by yourusername, landonorris and others

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oscarpiastri ❤️

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liked by oscarpiastri, olliebearman and others

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tagged oscarpiastri

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francolapinto happy mother’s day💙

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tagged oscarpiastri

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landonorris your boyfriend the attention whore*

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[n0vazsq]

Doomsday blue | CS55 x Reader

pairing . . . carlos sainz x tifosi!reader

summary . . . You'd always been a Tifosi, supporting the prancing horse since you could comprehend words. However, when your boyfriend starts racing in blue, it's hard to adjust. And when you finally get to stay in the Williams garage, reality sets in

request . . . no!! (yes by eve so now SHUT UP and leave me alone smh (joke ilysm))

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . tingting lai!

alexavia yaps . . . smh finally churning out motorsport content after not doing anything for it in CENTURIES </3 anyway f175 pic creds go to @theonottsbxtch !! lily muni he smau coming out soon so watch out gangalang!! quite short and is PURE SHIT but i don't care </3

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, scuderiaferrari and 2.4M others

yourusername 11 grand prix done and 13 more to go!! austria, you were good to us! congrats to mi amor on the podium finish <3 and as always, FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE ❤ Tagged: carlossainz55

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username1 FORZA FERRARI SEMPREEE

username2 SHES SO GORGEOUSSSSS

username3 i wonder what y/n will do since lewis took carlos' seat

username4 she'll probably carve a third seat out of no where for him

username5 CONGRATS TO CARLOS

username6 always love a wag thats been a fan of the sport since childhood

username7 my GOD shes stunning

username8 madre mia

username9 i hope whatever team carlos signs with next gets a red livery for 2025 because WOAH she is so pretty in it (carlos too)

carlossainz55 thank you carino ❤

yourusername oi next win get a win alright?

carlossainz55 i'll try my best with this car

yourusername you better because my family has been sending me threats telling me to "tell your boyfriend to get good results, he's in a ferrari"

carlossainz55 i promise i'm trying 😔

yourusername this is why you don't date a hardcore tifosi fan 💔💔

username10 how does it feel to be a goddess y/n

username11 she is living the LIFE

username12 FRR like i too wish i was carlos sainz's tifosi gf

username13 screaming crying throwing up

username14 im giggling at them giggling and whispering to each other at the race

username15 i need more carlos content ASAP

username16 my jaw dropped

username17 im staring disrespctuffly

username18 man how can they be so good looking

username19 HES BOUNCING OFF MY BOOTY CHEEKS

username18 bruv

username20 manifesting another carlos win or podium so he can spray y/n with champagne then kiss her like he did today

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 3.6M others

yourusername WHAT

click to view all comments

username21 HELP????

username22 crying this is so random

username23 LMFAOOOOOO

username24 y/n why the shower pic

username25 yeah y/n why

yourusername i was about to shower when i get spam dmed this shit

username26 SOBBING

username27 i need to know what carlos thinks about this

username28 her (our) tifosi ass is crying

carlossainz55 i told you i'm signing with williams??

yourusername I THOUGHT IT WAS A JOKE???

carlossainz55 WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THAT

yourusername BECAUSE ITS WILLIAMS???

williamsracing 😔

yourusername sorry...?

carlossainz55 so that's why you laughed and moved on when i told you

yourusername and that's why you looked confused

alexandrasaintmleux now you'll have to wear blue

yourusername NOOOO DON'T REMIND ME

carlossainz55 it's not THAT bad

yourusername yes it is i'm literally a tifosi

carlossainz55 would you rather that i become jobless or sign with williams

yourusername become jobless

carlossainz55 ...

yourusername can i at least stay in the ferrari garage?

carlossainz55 no

yourusername why

carlossainz55 i need my emotional support

yourusername eh you'll survive

carlossainz55 carino??

yourusername FINE ill stay in that garage but i'm still cheering for ferrari

williamsracing omg y/n will be in our garage

yourusername not for long

carlossainz55 ??

yourusername you didn't see that

username29 WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF

username30 oh to be as pretty as her

alex_albon the hate on me was unnecessary

yourusername sigh

yourusername sorry i guess

alex_albon you should be 😔

yourusername btw i'm only being nice to you because of lily

yourusername because wlw = wags love wags

alex_albon alright...

lilymhe thank you n/n !!

yourusername no problem lils 🤍

carlossainz55 are we getting replaced alex_albon

alex_albon i hope not

username31 THE WHISPER HELP

username32 im crying about this and so is y/n

username33 okay so im not schizo and carlos DID sign with williams

username34 i wish i had carlos as my bf

username35 i wish i had Y/N as my gf

username36 i wish i was HER

username37 smash

username38 shes way calmer than i expected her to be about this

username39 honestly was expecting her family to light up the williams garage on fire

username40 carlos is actually a culer and not madridista bc ferrari is red. williams is blue. you know what else is red and blue? FC BARCELONA. its a sign. VISCA BARCA RAHHH

carlossainz55

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 11M others

carlossainz55 since the 2024 season is officially over, here's a memory to the last time we won in red ❤ Tagged: scuderiaferrari, yourusername, charles_leclerc

click to view all comments

username41 FATHERRRRR

username42 woah

username43 he ate. licked the plate clean. swallowed the table even

username44 can't wait for the next season omgggg

username45 imagine if he wins in a williams

username46 then y/n would probably pass away

username47 THE YNCARLOS HUG SUYGDTFVBSHNJSJDHG

username48 STUNNING.

username49 he ate up everyone frrrr

username50 THE PHOTOGRAPHY?? THE AESTHETIC?? THE RED?? I FEAR HE LICKED UP EVERYTHING

username51 ONGGGG

username52 FRRR

username53 THE REAL IT WAG AND IT DRIVER

username54 i cried at this

username55 WE NEED MORE Y/N IN THE PADDOCK FOR MORE CARLOS WINS 🔥🔥🗣

username56 carlos dont forget us when you become the world champion in williams

username57 THE SECOND PIC IS SO SYMBOLIC IM SHITTING MY PANTS

username58 id let him hit me with his car

username59 i'd let y/n hit me with his car

username60 mama y papa

username61 oh carlos i feel so bad for you

username62 alex in the likes???? stan carbon for life

username63 only carlos knows how to be so beautiful drenched in champagne

username64 and to look so godly while doing so??

username65 king behaviour

username66 the relationship is not a want its a NEED

username67 WAAAAAAAA PLS DONT GO TO WILLIAMS

username68 carlos sr AND jr ate up

username69 where is y/n i need her to be a depressed tifosi

username70 fr she puts what we cant put into words

yourusername meow

carlossainz55 mi amor what is this

yourusername can't appreciate my husband these days 😔

carlossainz55 hermosa we aren't married 😔

yourusername lets get married and run away forever then

carlossainz55 yes we should

yourusername i have the dress ready

username72 im so confused

username73 THEYRE GETTING MARRIED???

username74 THE GOAT

username75 please let williams become the fastest this year so carlos can win

username76 manifesting a podium for him and alex idk how but i'll build an engine from the ground and i'll harvest the car body from the earth

yourusername it's good that you're drinking up your last win since you won't have any after you start racing in williams

yourusername should've stayed in ferrari 🫶

carlossainz55 mi vida i literally didn't have a choice

yourusername i'm sorry i just want to see you in red more </3

carlossainz55 or do YOU want to be in red more

yourusername both 🤍

carlossainz55 if it helps the garages are close to each other...?

yourusername oh...😊 well you know where to find me

lilymhe who will stay with me then 😔

yourusername ME !!

carlossainz55 won't you be i the ferrari garage??

yourusername i'll stay in williams for lily 😊😊😊

carlossainz55 and not me? 😔

yourusername bros before hoes

carlossainz55 i see...

yourusername just kidding i still love you more than anything mi hermoso

carlossainz55 i love you too, mi reina

username77 im not crying you are

username78 im like 109% sure y/n is crying on the inside

username79 bro i'm gonna kms this is too beautiful to let go

username80 the look of lovee.....

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon, lilymhe and 3.8M others

yourusername guess it's official. as much as it hurts to say this, see you in doomsday blue everyone 💙 (still attached to the red so i made sure to include it) Tagged: carlossainz55, williamsracing, alex_albon

click to view all comments

username81 HELP IM SOBBING

username82 how is she so calm about this wtf i'd be rolling on the ground sobbing

username83 thank the heavens carlos looks good in any colour

username84 doomsday blue is crazyyyy

username85 I WANT TO BE A WAG

username86 imagine being this handsome sigh

scuderiaferrari ❤ Liked by creator

username87 EH???????

username88 girl what

username89 FERRARI????

username90 i cannot tell if they are being petty or they js miss y/n

username91 HELP WHAT

username92 NOOOO IT'S OFFICIAL

username93 stop i feel so bad for her imagine your bf going from ferrari to williams </3

username94 guys maybe williams will have a redemption arc

username95 carlos wdc trust

username96 holy fuck hes beautiful

username97 where to buy a carlos asking for a friend

username98 proof that williams being blue ruins everyone's lives:

username99 im waiting for the edits

username100 y/n how are you functioning i'd kms

carlossainz55 see it's not that bad

yourusername carlos my beloved white isn't your colour

carlossainz55 WHAT

yourusername I'M SORRY IT HAD TO BE SAID

carlossainz55 you said it made me look like an angel

yourusername what was i doing when i said that

carlossainz55 laughing.....

yourusername exactly 🫶

carlossainz55 well still you look stunning in blue

yourusername now i feel bad 😔

carlossainz55 that's the plan 😈

yourusername fuck off

carlossainz55 also why isn't white my colour

yourusername i'm not elaborating

carlossainz55 shame

yourusername skill issue

carlossainz55 what

yourusername you wouldn't get it old man

carlossainz55 call me old one more time i'll show you what's old

yourusername oh!

carlossainz55 NOT THAT WAY

carlossainz55 actually yes that way

yourusername i'm scared

carlossainz55 you should be 😈

yourusername what the hell did they feed you in williams

carlossainz55 go there yourself to find out

yourusername over my DEAD BODY

carlossainz55 suit yourself

username101 president of the gpda btw

username102 i would've fainted he's like a renaissance painting

username103 dont know if i should be happy or sad

username104 both

username105 HER BEING THE SUPPORTIVE GIRLFRIEND MY HEARTTTTT

username106 NOOOO WE"RE LOSING THE RED FITS

username107 new y/n fans will never get to experience them

username108 if i never see her in red again i'll jump off a cliff

username109 me and y/n are in a parasocial relationship btw

username110 they are my parents. no argument.

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon, lilymhe and 4.1M others

yourusername pre season testing done!! the doomsday blue IS starting to grow on me a tiny bit.... such a disgrace to my tifosi family 😔 Tagged: carlossainz55, williamsracing

click to view all comments

username111 PRETYYYY

username112 my oh my the blue is doing things to me

username113 y/n said carlos didn't look in white so he showed up in an all white fit to annoy her

username114 my husband

carlossainz55 was i fast in testing?

yourusername yes yes very fast

carlossainz55 am i still a disgrace for your family

yourusername we both are

carlossainz55 don't forget to tell them i got them signed charles merch

yourusername i will, worry

yourusername if i have to suffer so will you❤

carlossainz55 hermosa i will kill you 💙❤

yourusername BLUE AND RED??? VISCA BARCA

carlossainz55 NO. NOT BARCA. HALA MADRID FOREVER. THAT'S WILLIAMS AND FERRARI

yourusername yeah yeah whatever

carlossainz55 soooo how do you like williams so far

carlossainz55 and don't lie your smile was radiant the whole time

yourusername sigh

yourusername its FINE

carlossainz55 VAMOS

yourusername ???

carlossainz55 nothing

yourusername okay.....

carlossainz55 please wear blue more often i'm salivating

yourusername please wear black more often i'm drooling

carlossainz55 deal

yourusername also if i see you in white one more time i'll maul you

carlossainz55 such kind words to your loving boyfriend 🥹

yourusername i'll kill you

yourusername btw my lawyer will be contacting you shortly

carlossainz55 for what??

yourusername assault

carlossainz55 verbal or emotional

yourusername both

carlossainz55 that's not fair

yourusername too bad

carlossainz55 you violate human rights violations on me

yourusername you amaze me with your loving words 😐

carlossainz55 i'm glad 🤍

username115 love is in the air eh?

username116 the fit is so adorable omgg

username117 CARLOS CONTENT LETS GOOOOOOO

username118 y/n tell us everything that happened please

username119 Y/N WILLIAMS APPEARANCES LETS FUCKING GOOOO

username120 YES YES YES YES i dont understand why but yeah IM SO HAPPY

lilymhe i love you so much gorgeous i hope you had fun with me

yourusername i love you more my beloved princess 🫶 i had so much fun thank you for making it bearable

lilymhe anytime pretty 💙

yourusername we should meet up everyday

lilymhe done

alexandrasaintmleux i'm glad you're having fun in williams! i miss you already

yourusername miss you too alex ❤❤

alexandrasaintmleux 🫶

username121 STOPP MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS SHES SO PRETTYA ND CARLOS IM MALFUCNTIONING

username122 girl is a fake tifosi

username123 sigh

username124 waiting for y/n to drop posts like a wife waiting for her husband's letters from war in the 1900s

username125 HELP

username126 omg i died watching the testing bc we got y/n content RAHHHH

username127 SHES IN BLUE NOW?? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

username128 rest in peace ferrari y/n, you will be missed

username129 LEGIT PASSED OUT HES SO GORGEOUS

username130 cuties omg

carlossainz55 the blue looks beautiful on you i fainted

yourusername omg stoppp i'm blushing

carlossainz55 even then everything looks beautiful on you

yourusername i'm so flattered

yourusername love youuu 🫶 🤍

carlossainz55 i love you more 🤍

fin.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[norrisainz33]

f175 || ls18

☆ summary: you and lance attend the f175 event

☆ pairing: lance stroll x reader

☆ fc & warnings: dua lipa and suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!!! thank you for the request 🫶🏻

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user1: effortlessly gorgeous

chloestroll: pretty princess

ynuser: i wish you were here 😫

chloestroll: i’ll see you soon bb 😘

user2: OHMGMEKGKOEY ARE YOU GOING TO F175?!

astonmartinf1: can’t wait to see you tonight 💚

ynuser: promise to only get my good side in photos?

astonmartinf1: you don’t have a bad side y/n!

lance_stroll: that’s my beautiful girl 😘

ynuser: my handsome man!!! i can’t wait to see you in your suit 🤤😍

lance_stroll: and i can’t wait to see you in that dress and also….. out of it 😏

ynuser: could always see the second in your fancy dressing room at the O2

lance_stroll: don’t tempt me

ynuser: but what if i want to 🤨

lance_stroll: then by all means

user3: ho is you an angel

user4: watching the red carpet of that weird event for you and you only

ynuser has posted to their story

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user6: stunning!!!!!!!!

fernandoalo_oficial: sorry for stealing your man 😉

ynuser: i’ll forgive you but only this time!!

fernandoalo_oficial: lawrence is the better chauffeur anyway 😏

ynuser: hahaha i’ll tell him you said that

user9: no bc you’re gonna mog everyone so hard on that red carpet idk why anyone else is even bothering to show up

lance_stroll: goodness gracious you are stunning

ynuser: thank you babyyyyy!!

lance_stroll: i wish they would let me ride with you instead

ynuser: i know sweetheart but this evening is for you and nando to show off!!!

lance_stroll: and you know i hate it… these sorts of things make me so anxious

ynuser: i know baby but lawrence and i will be right behind you! you’ll only have to be without me for a few short minutes

flavy_barla: i’m going to start drooling

ynuser: thanks for helping me pick the outfit out baby girl

flavy.barla: happy to darling 🤍

user10: not them sending you in the safety car but ig they gotta keep the people’s princess safe huh

chanelofficial: beautiful! we are so glad you trusted us to make your outfit for this evening 🤍

ynuser: and thank YOU for the perfect outfit 🫶🏻

user11: is it wrong to say i’m more excited to see you than the liveries

peoplemagazine has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, yourbff, alexandrasaintmleux, user12, user18, and 78,356 others

peoplemagazine: we had the pleasure of talking with y/n y/l/n and lance stroll tonight at f175. y/n talked about how excited she is for this season: “theres just so much to look forward to! lance and the entire aston martin team have worked so hard over the break and i am really looking forward to seeing that work pay off. i am so incredibly lucky to get to have a front row seat for all of this - from learning about the car back at the factory to supporting the love of my life in making his dreams come true - i am just so lucky.”

view all comments

user12: is someone cutting onions

user13: petition to make y/n the head of strookie nation

user99: Y E S

user23: petition signed. i want mother to represent us

ynuser: i’ve been summoned and i love that we’re calling ourselves strookies. i’m so in

user13: asdfghjkl she’s ONE OF US

user14: why is that so sweet i’m sick

yourbff: people magazine?! oh ynuser you’re famous famous

ynuser: dream come true for real

user15: the way y/n talks about all the people back at the factory so fondly 😭🫶🏻

user18: most supportive and kind partner award goes to y/n fr

ynuser has posted to their private story

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yourbff: y/n/n this is unhinged

ynuser: i stand with my cancelled wife (myself)

lilymhe: screaming how much champagne did they give you

ynuser: not enough honestly. this was all organic

lilymhe: never change y/n/n

lance_stroll: not the sirens and the gun shots

ynuser: the helmet and the suit have done something unspeakable to me

lance_stroll: noted 😏

ynuser: you know what tate said about sports cars….. i’ve been thinking…..

lance_stroll: y/n i’ve told you this! there is no way we can both fit in my f1 car

ynuser: one day i’ll get you to say yes to this proposition just wait lancey

lance_stroll: whatever you say princess

estebanocon: i watched you giggle and post this from 2 tables away

ynuser: you saw nothing pls 😔

alexandrasaintmleux: mon ami stand up

ynuser: i can’t 🧎🏻‍♀️

chloestroll: i’m gonna scroll now….

ynuser: yeah that’s fair

yourfriend1: and this is valid af

ynuser: THANK YOU!!

ynuser has made a post

liked by lance_stroll, boss, chanelofficial, alexandrasaintmleux, chloestroll and 453,234 others

ynuser: the amr25 is almost as hot as lance 😍🤤 thanks for an incredible night f1 and to my ladies at chanelofficial for dressing me!

view all comments

user18: the head of strookie nation has spoken 🗣️

astonmartinf1: she is a beauty 😉

ynuser: you got that right admin

user22: aston had the best reveal hands down

chloestroll: *almost as hot as you

ynuser: *almost as hot as YOU

user24: now let’s pray that she’s also fast 🤞🏻

lance_stroll: you flatter me

ynuser: just spitting facts!

estebanocon: simping on main now too??

flavy.barla: at least this was tamer

yourbff: definitely could’ve been worse

ynuser: guys please

user32: 👀

user33: you are so real for this y/n/n

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: sooo happy to be getting all these lance requests 😭😫 likes and reblogs appreciated!! thanks for reading 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[thearchercore]

an eventful weekend! here's the official lestappengate 2023 conspiracy round up of what happened in vegas: • charles was very outspoken during media day today about the ticket accessibility (prices), he also seemed to be more outspoken after his DSQ and DNS -- the last time a ferrari driver started being more open with criticism it was because he was no longer under contract. ferrari is usually known for their tight PR control

• after getting pole, charles did NOT point at the ferrari shield logo, his signature pose, the last time he did so was at COTA

• charles was only wearing ferrari merch when necessary, during his post race debrief, he wore his friend's brand and they had to blur it out

• charles did not repost anything from ferrari, including the new livery, race suits, or merch. carlos did

• charles is not tagging ferrari on his ig posts now

• gemma from red bull racing PR took pictures of charles and max during their joint impromptu interview

• when max was reminiscing about how he always thought charles and him would end up in f1 together, he took a dig at ferrari when he said you need to have the right team around you to do well in f1

• rbr posted charles' and max's car during their race post and did not post about checo, charles' car had its own slide

• rbr tagging and engaging with charles NUMEROUS time on their social media

• no new info about charles' contract renewal at ferrari

• max and charles being on first name basis during their team radios

• max and charles having multiple arguments on track, but max "i never apologize" verstappen ran to apologize to charles, and admitted the penalty was correct. they were, again, much friendlier that they were before the triple header

• no ferrari mention in charles' post race post, he mentioned though that racing max made him smile lol

• ferrari stopped interacting with all red bull social posts featuring charles that they got tagged in. they also made sure to cut out any max mention/cameo in all content they have posted

[dailyadventureprompts]

Encounter: Tossup on the Tollroad

Artsource

Setup: The party are travelling either by themselves or as guards for some caravan, making their way along an old road widely known to have fallen into disrepair thanks to the local lord's mismanagement.

What a surprise then when the party approach an old fortified toll house and discover it garrisoned with troops in the lord's livery, who are now expecting them to pay exorbitant fees for the privilege of crossing into the lord's domain.

The toll collectors are beligerant and one or two even appear drunk. Not paying their toll ads days, maybe weeks to the party's journey, and crossing overland will not only be slow going, but dangerous, as monsters have been known to be creeping back into the region from the wilderness (again, due to the lord's mismanagement).

Challenges & Complications:

Plenty of folks call tollgates "highway robbery" but in this instance it's far more literal. The garrison are infact a group of bandits who have laid their hands on some of his soldier's uniforms, or fashioned crude imitations. The ones interacting with the party have mostly legitimate looking outfits, but those standing back have increasingly flimsy disguises which a perceptive character might notice.

The bandits demand to inspect packs and cargo for "contraband" as a means of seeing whether the party is worth robbing beyond paying their hiked up crossing fee. If one of them finds something good, they make a quick signal to the ones on the battlements which tells them to drop the portcullis after the travellers are through, cutting off their escape before launching their attack.

More than a couple merchants have fallen victim to the ruse already, and the party may notice the their wagons and pack animals tucked away, some of the former showing signs of struggle. The contents of these wagons are sitting inside the fortress waiting to be fenced, meaning a party that defeats the bandits may have stumbled into a small fortune of trade goods, as well as mementos, messages in need of delivery. My advice is to cram this treasure-drop full of quest hooks.

Selling the goods may get the party accused of banditry themselves, turning a potential payday into a brush with the law.

[loonylupinblack3]

Home Race

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles finally wins in Monaco and you're there to celebrate alongside him

Warnings: none i think? maybe slight suggestive content but very, very vague

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I LITERALLY CAN'T EVEN IM SO HAPPY FOR CHARLES YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND 😭😭 THIS IS LIKE A DREAM

Your heart was bursting. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you ran through the paddock, ignoring the flash of the cameras. Charles had won. Charles had won in Monaco, his home race, a dream he’d held close to his heart for years but one he’d started losing hope for, year by year as luck went against him.

This year was different. You’d felt it in the air, as you arrived for the weekend. A hope, latching onto your heart, stronger than usual. There was a fevored excitement in the air that hadn’t been there before, as if the people of Monaco too knew this was the year Monaco would finally accept Charles, would let him win and feel that pure ecstasy of earning P1 in your home race.

People moved out of your way as you ran, smiles and congratulations following you. Fifth place was good; you could have done better, but a 5-6 for Red Bull was still an acceptable turnout, and you knew some teams on the grid couldn’t even dream of actually achieving a 5-6, so you were okay with your result.

It didn’t matter to you much though, not with your boyfriend having finally achieved his childhood dream of winning his home race. You could only imagine the emotions he must be feeling, the joy and shock of finally winning. The relief of finally feeling like maybe, maybe you do belong there, maybe you do deserve this. The overwhelming pure happiness of winning in your home, along your streets, full of people you know, your people, watching from balconies and screaming from stands. You couldn’t be happier for your boyfriend if you tried.

You made it to the crowd waiting beneath the podium, pushing yourself to the front. You stood out like a sore thumb with your navy Red Bull uniform against the sea of Ferrari red and yellow but you didn’t care, and no one else did either. Everyone had long ago gotten used to seeing Red Bull livery in the Ferrari garage and vice versa, the two of you always together no matter what team you’re on.

Today was no different, and you were pat on the back and had your shoulders squeezed by Ferrari engineers and employees, an honorary member of the team as they liked to call you. You craned your neck back to look at the podium, waiting with a grin for Charles to appear.

When he did you cheered alongside everyone else until your voice was hoarse, clapping your hands until they were raw. Charles spotted you immediately, like an iris in a sea of roses. His already ear splitting grin widened, eyes locked on you as he took his place in the middle of the podium.

You shared a smile, trying to show all the emotions you couldn’t put into words. Charles understood it; he always did, his gaze softening, smile morphing into something special, just for you. Your heart fluttered, even after all these years together, and your smile turned slightly shy, something Charles noticed if the way his grin turned into a smirk was any indication. 

You watched as he was awarded with his trophy, hugging the Prince of Monaco like an old friend, his hair windswept and eyes alight with an infectious joy. He grinned down at his team, at his fans, and at you. He had everything he wanted in front of him. The day could not get better.

You waited for him to get off the podium, hurrying to meet him at the Ferrari garage. When he finally made it there- being the winner of a grand prix made you a very busy person- his eyes immediately scanned the area for you, the corners of them crinkling from a smile when he found what he was looking for.

You ran up to him and threw your arms around him in a bone crushing hug, feeling so overwhelmingly happy for him. He mirrored your emotions, an iron grip on you as one hand wrapped around your waist and the other rested on your back, nestling his head into your hair.

You pressed kisses to the side of his head, and when you pulled back peppered his face in kisses too, the man laughing but indulging your antics, the both of you over the moon. He cupped your face in his hands when you were done, staring into your eyes, finding the same happiness he was feeling in them. You understood each other, cared for each other and both your achievements. His happiness was yours and vice versa.

He grinned, pulling you close for a kiss. There were cheers and teasing whistles as people watched, causing the two of you to smile against each other's lips. It wasn’t a long kiss- you’d save that for later when you were alone- but it was nice. It meant something, something only the two of you would understand and share.

You pulled back, letting Charles get dragged away and congratulated over and over, but he made sure you were close by, always catching your eye in the crowd, wanting to share this amazing moment with you.

You walked by his side, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as they travelled away from the garage to the docks by the harbour. By now some employees had left, and family friends had joined the group, creating a sea of colour rather than just red and yellow. You reached the docks and you took a safe step back from Charles, knowing what was about to happen.

Just like you expected, Charles took an unsuspecting Fred Vasseur’s shoulder, manoeuvring him to the edge, and with a strong shove pushed the man into the water, a spray of water droplets hitting the now laughing crowd.

Charles readied himself to jump in and you made sure your friends were recording- you hadn’t retrieved your phone after finishing the race- when Charles paused, turning towards you. Too late you realised what was about to happen, and by the time you started shaking your head Charles had you by the hips and jumped into the water, taking you down with him.

You let out a shriek as you hit the water, the cold enveloping you as your face went under. You could feel Charles’ hands leave your waist, so you both didn’t drown, and you swam up eagerly, gasping for breath when you broke through the water’s surface.

Charles came up shortly after, laughing and wiping his face. He saw you and gave you a cheeky grin, one you responded to by splashing him with water, the man exclaiming in surprise, his pleading mixed with laughter.

Before you could continue he had his arms wrapped around your waist and was tugging you to him, creating ripples through the water. You put your hands gently on his shoulders to balance yourself, smiling down at him.

“I love you,” you whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”

Charles pressed his head against your chest, giving your waist a squeeze. “Thank you mon amour. I love you too. So much.” He pulled back to look at you, his eyes full of adoration, and gently peeled a strand of wet hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

[janjanenrico]

Repainted Livery

Rosato Transport 886188

Coach Builder: Zyle Daewoo Commercial Works (South Korea) Model: Daewoo BH115E Royal Economy Series Coach

Originally Made on February 12, 2023 by Eddrian Dhale Enriquez on Facebook Repainted on May 3rd, 2024.

CTTO: Aspiring Bus Enthusiast (Kyle Agullo) Inspired by: @wristwatchcollector-2024, and @compulsivewriter

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | SERIES MASTERLIST

CURRENTLY ON INDEFINITE HIATUS!!

you can check out my other writing on my ao3 <3

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the first daughter of the stark family drives for their brand new team in formula one

pairing. none yet, all platonic (can be changed in the future)

content warnings. written in 3rd person, fem!reader, written and smau chapters, not edited/proofread

notes. welcome, welcome! i've seen so many reader!driver stories here so i decided to contribute :) as for now, i have no final destination with this story, but i do have some ideas i definitely want in. pls feel free to share your own ideas!!

ABOUT THE STARK RACING F1 TEAM.

the family. the team. the public opinion. the grid's reaction.

ABOUT THE PAST.

before the family. before formula one.

ABOUT THE PRESENT.

the 2025 season.

-> the livery launch. the strategy call. the pre-season testing. the wait for first race. the training. the interview.

the 2026 season.

ABOUT THE FUTURE.

ABOUT THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSES.

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles , @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora , @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

upon his grace 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are called to court after the end of the civil war, but find yourself facing many challenges, expected and not. (fantasy medieval au)

Characters: king!Steve Rogers

Note: friday!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You are summoned to the queen’s chambers shortly after your arrival. You come together with the other young ladies from courtyard in the corridor just before a set of painted doors. Within, Queen Margaret keeps court with her ladies, of whom you are to be one of. The thought alone has you devilishly unnerved. 

The guards in their livery greet you with dull eyes. The groom announces your purpose and receives little in return aside from the one soldier’s lazy reach to tap upon the door. He lifts the lever and eases a space between the wood. 

“Your highness, you’ve some ladies requesting an audience,” he drones through. 

There is some movement from within. A lady servant appears in her white cap and beckons you inward. You are further intimidated by the formality of it all. Marcia and Marigold rush ahead to be first and the three earls’ daughters from the White Plans take up their train. You glance over at Calliope and trail after her. 

The doors shut at your back and the lady maid retreats, her soles scuffing amid the murmur around you. You look around the skirts of the other debuts and see women in recline, others perched upon cushions and stools, all at leisure with needle, book, or frame. There is another at the window, sat between two ladies on the bench, the late afternoon breeze stirring the long waves that hang around her face, the rest of her chestnut hair twisted up behind her hood.  

The lady maid stands at the wall in deference, “your highness.” 

The brunette raises her chin and her eyes narrow at the lot of you. You can barely see much past the shoulders of the twins and the other ladies clustered closely in shared apprehension. Still, the twins stand tall and the other ladies hardly seem as wrought as you in the ceremony of it all. 

“The twins of...Mawsley, is it?” The queen declares, “yes, your father proved himself a valuable asset, didn’t he?” 

“Your highness,” the twins recite in unison and bow, “Marcia,” the first introduces herself, “Marigold, the second adds. 

“How keen,” the queen chimes, “you look as the same person. How amusing.” 

“Thank you, your highness,” the sisters chirp. 

“And those gowns, wonderful. I may have to ask after your tailor,” Queen Margaret preens, “and where is the Countess’ daughter? I recall I met you once when you were still a child.” 

Calliope steps dutifully, “my mother sends her regards.” 

“Oh, yes, that poor widow,” the queen bemoans, “she is ever steadfast despite her plight.” She takes pause as you sway to see her, “and the rest of you, forgive me, these last days have been a whirlwind and I’ve heard an endless slew of names one after another. 

“Lady Selene,” the very lady proclaims. 

“Lady Ameri,” she bows in quick succession. 

“Lady Dorida,” the last shows her courtesy in an elegant bend. 

As you come forward, the twins push their arms together as if to block you out with their sleeves. You sidle side to side and sweep around their skirts with an ungraceful stumble, “your highness,” you greet as if you have something stuck in your throat. You swallow before you can muster your own name and title. 

“Woodsdam,” the queen tilts her head and looks from the lady at her left shoulder to the one on her right, “I’ve never heard of it.” 

“Neither have I,” the leftmost agrees. 

“Farmland,” the right says. 

“Yes, your highness, my father is a farmer, but an earl as well,” you supply. 

“Mm,” the queen looks down her nose as her lips thin, “it appears the Woodsdam style is much... defined. I don’t think I’ve seen that style gown since my grandmother was still on earth.” 

You look down at your modest cotton. The square cut of your bodice is much different than the other ladies’ rounded collars. Your mother crafted the dress from pieces and the seams are tidy, yet it does lack a similar flair to the others around the chamber. You raise your eyes and keep your composure as best you can. 

“Many thanks, your highness.” 

The queen scoffs, “quaint, indeed.” She sits straighter though her posture is already unyieldingly staunch, “ladies, please acquaint yourself. And be certain to pay heed to these ladies who know well the ways of court. For all that’s changed in these past years, we will retain as ever our elegance and our etiquette.” 

You peer around, uncertain what comes next. A lady stands and calls to Calliope, “Lady, it is me, Gwendolyn, of the Spades. Near Clovers, you will know it?” 

Calliope accepts the initiation and there is a swift storm of voices swirling around the lot of you. You flutter hopefully that someone might think of Woodsdam or might’ve been to the waterfall near Aquil, not far from your father’s hold. The twins confer still with the queen and her ladies, trilling and giggling, as Serena and Dorida marvel over another ladies’ sewing frame, and Ameri is overly familiar with a lady swollen with child. 

You drift away from the centre of the chamber, trying not to draw unwarranted attention. It would do little for any to note your insignificance. You’ve all to soon faded into obscurity. No one cares for a farmer’s daughter. 

“Eh, do you read?” The question startles you and has you spinning to face its speaker. She looks as she sounds; squawkish. Birdlike. Her blond waves are woven with strands of silver and her hooked nose is not unbecoming. 

“Yes, lady, I do,” you answer, uncertain if she is genuine or she means it as jab. 

“Have you read Corswin? He wrote a fair tale about a shepherdess.” 

“I’ve not heard of him,” you recover your confidence at her interest. It is clear she humours you, that she is speaking to only keep you from floundering. 

“I must lend you a book or two,” she insists, “come sit with me. These old hens grow tiresome.” 

“Many thanks, my lady,” you accept and claim the stool next to her, shifting it closer. 

“Sarah,” she gives her name, “Woodsdam. I’ve never been. I hate the swamps.” 

“Oh,” you nod, “yes, it isn’t very swampy. Only in the rainy seasons but we get the sun.” 

“Mm, still, I’ve been down Ashton and I hated the place. My horses caught some sickness there,” she gripes, “perhaps though, your home is more pleasant. A woman old as me, though, I don’t venture far as it is.” She tuts and taps her oval nails on the book in her lap, “if my son wasn’t so foolish as to take up his sword, I’d still be in my library, hidden away from these chits.” 

You clasp your hands together and smile. She’s amicable and you wouldn’t want to bother too much. She flutters the pages of her book and huffs. You look around, sensing some intrigue from the other ladies though they do their best not to let their flitting eyes be caught. 

“All these birds know how to do is cloister themselves up like nuns,” she bemoans, “I’d as soon be out in the sunlight. If I were home, I’d be in my courtyard with a better book than this,” she wags the volume in agitation, “and you, lady? What is it you do on the farmstead? Chase hens?” 

“We have geese,” you say, “though they aren’t truly kept. They sort’ve linger around. And some cattle.” 

“It does sound rather bucolic, this must be all so drab to you, castle walls and dusty tapestries.” 

“Oh, it’s all so wonderful,” you expound. 

“It is?” She drawls tritely, “aren’t these ladies of ours so polite? The way they whisper about our hems and our titles. Don’t let yourself be fooled, though I suppose that should be as good a warning against myself. Ladies of the court are like crows; the like shiny things and the hold grudges, and sometimes, they needn’t even a reason to peck your eyes out.” 

You close your lips and swallow. Her tidings only underline the unwelcome forged in the queen’s introduction. All you might forgive is at least she seems genuine in her girding. You look down at your skirts and run your fingers down a crease. 

“The dress is not so hideous,” she assures gently, “some of the ladies do forget we did just fight a war. There are those without silks and without food in their bellies. They should weigh their fortune that they are still alive and well.” 

Your eyes meet and she looks a little less stony. She turns her head to the window and her gaze drifts into the distance. You follow them with a sense of solemnity. Again, you snare a few glances from the others. Many men died, women and children too. It wouldn’t do to care so much for what people think of your wardrobe. 

👑

Your first day at the castle ends in a fine supper of freshly baked bread, beef with gravy, and seasoned scallions, onions, and sweet herbs. It is not so hearty as your mother’s stew which you share as often with the servants nor so delicious. It’s a different sort of taste but not unpleasant. 

You retire at the queen’s behest. She declares she must see to her husband and several of the other ladies claim the same of their own. You rise and wait courteously to tail after other ladies, not wanting to get underfoot as you so often did on the farm. As you stand aside, Lady Sarah swats you with her book. 

Skirts swish against the rows of chairs and benches that line the long table. The dining chamber is set with the portrait of peregrine and similarly hawkish depictions woven into tapestry and tablecloth alike. Despite the uniform decor, the furniture is mismatched and the hews of wood and metal alternate with each piece. 

“Don’t fear the stampede, little calf, run with it,” she chides, “ah, I’ve decades upon these sows and they plod like heifers.” 

He uncouth words draw your surprise. She laughs at the look you send her and waves you off with the hardcover. She shoulders past you without pause. 

“One day you will see, it is better to speak the truth than let it shred up your soul,” she tosses over her shoulder. “Ah, naivete, how entertaining you are.” 

Her voice carries and you notice how the other women shy away from her. There’s a glint of deference to the tilt in their chins as they part for her like a like drawn in the sand with a stick. You wonder how she can be so bold and why the other might tolerate it. As Queen Margaret girded, you are to maintain propriety. Sarah seems to carry the same manners as any farmhand you’d known. 

You hurry to meet Calliope near the door as she departs. She seems the tamest of the lot thus far. Sharp-witted but not needlessly cruel. She turns her head slightly in acknowledgement of your presence. 

“There you are,” she mutters. 

“Did you enjoy the afternoon?” You ask brightly. 

“Enjoy? I tempered it,” she retorts, “I’ve the measure of most ladies.” 

“The measure? They were all quite friendly.” 

“You are too friendly,” she admonishes, “this is court, you cannot be so simple. Each lady is attached to a lord, thus they work upon his purposes. Her ears are always listening, eyes always seeing.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You represent your father and though mine may be in the ground, I carry his mantle all the same. We are our houses, not ourselves here,” she keeps her voice low and slows markedly to keep away from the others, “you should count yourself fortunate for my wise counsel, lady, for no other would give it.” 

You chew on her words, tasting their bitterness, “so why do you, Lady Calliope?” 

“For I despise those twins and I know they aren’t so keen on you,” she sighs, “and I saw you as any other did with the dowager.” 

“The dowager?” You echo. 

“The king’s mother, Lady Sarah,” she sends you a sharp look, “don’t tell me you didn’t realise?” 

“Oh? No? She spoke of books and her gardens, she didn’t mention...” you peter off and snap your mouth shut. But she had, she did say her son ran off to war. “Oh!” 

“Oh! Indeed,” Calliope mocks and shakes her head. “Look, I’ve not the patience for these women, but you’re not so bad. You don’t speak without meaning. Shall we be companions?” 

“Pardon?” You let your surprise bleed through. 

“I need at least one person I might stomach, how about you? I don’t think the others are so eager to be friends. Marcia did say how you look like a peasant.” 

“She did?” You frown. 

“Hm, you need me,” she insists, “you can’t let yourself be so whimsical. Never mind what they say or think. What do they care so much for anyhow? They are a duke’s daughters, they will do well enough.” 

You carry on next to her. You feel as if you’re being pulled in all different directions though all tell you just the same. Be wary 

[escapismbook]

ESCAPISM CHAPTER TEN

Chapter Ten | Wonderland

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)

→ AUs: non idol!au→ Genre(s): dark romance, smut, mature, mafia

→ Trope(s): professor-student, forbidden romance, dark, sin-evil, passion, slow-burn, seductive, mafia

→ Rating: mature/explicit (this is mature/explicit content, so you have been warned.)

→ Word count: 6.3k

→ warnings + triggers: explicit smut, (female) OC is innocent and pure and Yoongi is desperate for her. Drug use, Strong language, Explicit scenes, Mentions of S.A, Violence, Dark Themes, Crime Elements, Alcohol, Club setting, Obsession, Possessive, Protective Love, Emotional.

→ Author’s note: Escapism is a dark romance—intense, poetic, and deeply atmospheric. It explores desire, deception, and the pull of the forbidden. This story contains mature themes, including:   

This story is also written by two authors. Both working on the two couple. Please read with caution. For those who stay, welcome to a world where love and darkness intertwine.

Dedication: Reaches out to cup your cheek, "now be a good girl for me."

(Don't forget to like and comment.)

A small note: When you see the italic font, it means they are speaking in Korean.

SONGS FOR CHAPTER |

DJ Khalid, Rihanna & Bryson Tiller • Wild Thoughts RAYE • Escapism 

The weeks passed quickly. Yoongi taught, Aalia studied. But almost every day, he made her stay behind during breaks, always with a reason so pointlesss it was almost amusing. He would skim through her submissions with the same meticulous precision. A misplaced comma, an unnecessary word, a phrase that could have been structured differently—details that did not matter, but he used them as exuses to have her close. To watch her brow furrow in frustration, to hear the way she exhaled softly when she disagreed but knew better than to argue. She was brilliant, but it didn’t stop him from finding reasons to linger in her presence.

Tonight the Min family’s hotel was nothing short of regal—a testament to old wealth, its history woven into every stone, every towering column, every gold-gilded frame. It stood in the heart of the Seoul like an untouchable empire, its grand façade lined with wrought-iron balconies and cascading marble staircases leading to polished mahogany doors. A doorman, clad in pristine livery, tipped his hat to each guest, pulling open the heavy doors to reveal a world untouched by time.

Inside, the air was thick with sophistication. Chandeliers, dripping with thousands of hand-cut crystals, bathed the opulent lobby in a golden glow. The ceiling stretched high, painted with Baroque frescoes that whispered of old secrets, of whispered conversations between kings and emperors. The polished marble floors gleamed, reflecting the glow of wall sconces, their intricate gold filigree casting delicate patterns across the room. Plush Persian rugs softened the footsteps of those who entered, and towering arrangements of fresh roses and white lilies stood in tall vases, their fragrance mingling with the faint notes of a classical sonata humming from a distant grand piano.

He stepped in with effortless grace, the weight of legacy draped over his shoulders like an invisible cloak. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the crisp cut of his jacket accentuating the sharpness of his frame. His onyx eyes flicked around the lobby, scanning with the instinct of a man who knew his surroundings before they knew him.

But then he stilled, and the world narrowing to a single focal point—the woman seated on one of the Chesterfield sofas near the towering french windows. The soft, warm light of the chandeliers cascaded over her, gilding her in gold. She hadn’t noticed him; her attention was on her phone, long fingers moving with practiced ease over the screen.

The white and ivory beige colour clung to her like an embrace. The dress, silky and elegant, draped over her frame, pooling at the curve of her hips before cascading down to her calves. Her hair, parted at the side, fell in effortless curles catching the light like spun silk. And her golden cross sat just above her chest, bracelet graced her wrist, golden earrings in subtle but devastatingly feminine.

He watched the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the way her lips parted slightly in thought, the way her lashes fluttered against her cheek before she glanced at her phone again.

God, she was mesmerizing. A possessive heat curled in his gut, an inexplicable ache that he despised but couldn’t deny. It was different from before, different from the stolen moments in his office, the quiet tension between stolen kisses and lingering touches. This was something else.

His lips curled into the faintest smirk before he strode toward her, his footsteps silent against the marble floor. He carried himself as though he had simply stumbled upon her, as though this was mere coincidence. 

“Fancy seeing you here, darling.”

Aalia’s head snapped up, her wide eyes meeting his. Yoongi made himself comfortable, settling into the armchair beside her. He was at ease, his body leaning back slightly, exuding quiet amusement. He watched her reaction, the way her lips parted in surprise before she masked it with composure.

Her fingers tightened slightly around her phone. “Do you have my location thing on?”

A laugh rumbled from his chest, dark and amused. “No, I don’t have your location tracking on.” There was a short pause as his gaze flickered around the lobby, before returning to her. “Are you waiting for someone?”

Aalia tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh?” she mused, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “I thought you didn’t want to see me with someone else.”

Yoongi’s smirk deepened, his amusement evident. But beneath it, something darker lurked. The idea of her with someone else—it didn’t sit well with him. “Someone’s feeling brave tonight,” he murmured.

Aalia only smiled, her confidence unwavering. She crossed one leg over the other, and Yoongi’s eyes followed the motion, landing on the elegant arch of her foot, the pointed tip of her high heel aimed directly at him.

He didn’t think—he simply acted. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the exposed skin on the top of her foot, tracing lightly over the area with slow, deliberate movements. She didn’t pull away. His touch was unhurried, almost absentminded, yet entirely calculated. He expected her to react the way she always did—shifting away, creating distance. But she didn’t. She was calm. A shift had occurred, one so subtle yet so profound that it made his fingers pause for a fraction of a second before continuing their lazy strokes.

“Why are you sitting in the lobby alone, darling?” he asked, his voice smooth, slightly huskier than before.

“I’m attending an event.”

“An event, huh?”

She nodded. “Mmm. Some business thing. I’m not too sure—but I’m here for the cakes.”

Yoongi chuckled low. “You have your priorities straight, I see.”

Just then, her phone rang. Aalia glanced at the screen before answering, her voice soft as she spoke to her aunt. Yoongi watched her silently, his fingers finally stilling against her skin. She stood, gathering the folds of her dress as she moved toward the large double doors on the side of the lobby to where other people attending were heading. Then, his lips curled slightly. Because now, he saw. She was attending the same event.

The ballroom was just as majestic as the rest of the hotel. Branded with old money opulence, a shrine built for the elite. Towering Corinthian columns stretched toward the ceiling, their gilded details catching the flickering light of crystal chandeliers, each drop of crystal refracting gold and amber hues. The ceiling was a masterpiece—a hand-painted fresco depicting mythological gods in muted pastels, their divine expressions frozen in an eternal dance above the mortals who dined and drank below. The floors gleamed, polished to a mirror’s reflection, the marble swirling in a blend of onyx and jade. Round tables dressed in the finest ivory linens filled the space, each adorned with delicate floral arrangements and flickering candlelight. A selection of drinks and hors d'oeuvres rested on elegant silver trays, a quiet indulgence for the evening’s guests. At the far end, on top of a podeum, a live band played—smooth, low jazz and in he center of this all, the dance floor.

Aalia sat at one of the round tables, surrounded by familiar faces—her cousins, their spouses, their carefully cultivated conversations. Alice leaned in, whispering something about the dress of a woman across the room, but Aalia wasn’t listening. Her eyes had caught something— no, someone.

Across the ballroom, seated with an air of effortless authority, was Min Yoongi. Her breath hitched for a fraction of a second as her gaze locked onto him. At his table, she recognized several individuals, but it was his sister-in-law, who made her stomach tighten in realization. Hye was good friends with Aalia’s cousin Saron, and Aalia felt her pulse quickened slightly as her mind began to piece things together.

She turned back to Yoongi, expecting him to look surprised, or even affected by the unexpected encounter, but his expression was a mask. Yet, beneath that there was a glimmer of something else. Amusement. He was enjoying this.

Aalia grabbed the champagne flute in front of her and downed the entire thing in one go, the cool fizz burning against her throat. Yoongi’s lips twitched at the corners, barely, but enough. He lifted his own glass and took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving hers. There was something about the way he looked at her. A silent mockery. 

As the event continued, praises of succes were given, the rim of his glass hovered just beneath his lips, golden liquid swirling lazily as he tilted the glass slightly. Yoongi’s gaze darkened. He had been enjoying watching her squirm and try to compose herself under the weight of his presence throughtout the night. 

But then someone entered the frame. He was around the same age as he was, darker brown hair and kissed by the sun. There was an ease to the way he sat next to her, an air of entitlement laced with arrogance. Yoongi didn’t recognize him, and that alone irritated him—he knew most of the men in their world, had kept mental notes of those who mattered, and those who didn’t. But this one? A stranger. His grip on his glass tightened ever so slightly, but he kept his face impassive.

Aalia’s body went stiff the moment when Kang Lee sat beside her. It wasn’t fear that flickered across her expression—no, it was disgust. A scowl tugged at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth, though he masked it well behind another slow sip of champage. His eyes remained locked on her. He watched the way she bit down in the inside corner of her mouth as the man leaned in to her side, speaking something. She didn’t turn to acknowledge him, but merely nodded like she was bored.

But Yoongi did not move, nor say aothing, yet, his presence alone was a looming force across the ballroom, a silent storm brewing beneath the calm.

‘Ahh, the bastard is touching her now,’ his tongue flicked along the inside oh his upper lip. He watched as Lee’s hand placed just a little too casually on the back of her chair as he spoke to one of the men at the table. And Aalia remained in her seat, still as a painting, her fingers now tightening around the stem of another champagne glass.

The evening pressed on, and Yoongi casted a quick glance at the watch sitting on his wrist, eight fifty-seven pm. It was time for him to leave.

He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, rising to his feet. He didn’t need to stay any longer. There was something else waiting for him—something far from the grandeur of this ballroom, far from the opulent chandeliers and whispered politics of old families. Something that made his blood run hot. But then, his gaze caught sight of Aalia pushing her chair out and made her way through the ballroom, toward the grand double doors leading to the hotel’s lobby. And he didn’t even think twince before following after her. 

Before she could walk towards the elevators, in a swift motion, he reached for her hand and he pulled her sharply toward a door leading to the stairwell. “What the—hey! Let me go!” Aalia tugged against his grip, but he only tightened it, amusement flickering in his gaze.

“No,” he said simply.

The stairwell was dimly lit, lined with industrial steel railings. The echoes of their footsteps bouncing against the concrete walls as he led her downward. Aalia huffed, still pulling against his hold, but he didn’t react. And they fianally stepped into the underground parking lot.

The scent of asphalt, gasoline, and cool night air clung to the space. Rows of luxury cars were parked in pristine lines, their sleek surfaces reflecting the glow of the overhead lights. The occasional sound of an engine revving in the distance echoed against the concrete, a low and distant hum. The entire lot carried an eerie stillness—too vast, too empty, a sanctuary hidden beneath the world above.

And yoongi, he walked with purpose, leading her toward a sleek black car parked in the farthest corner of the lot. The soft click of his key fob unlocking the doors was the only sound between them. “Get in the car,” he said.

Aalia scoffed. “Like hell I am.”

She tried to step around him, but in one smooth movement, Yoongi opened the passenger door and caged her between the car and himself. Her perfume hit him—warm, familiar, intoxicating. The scent wrapped around him like a memory, thick and inescapable.

He looked down at her. “Get. In. The car, Aalia.”

But her chin lifted defiantly. “Move,” she shot back, mirroring his tone.

A slow smirk curled onto his lips like he couldn’t believe the way she was speaking to him. He clicked his tongue once. Then, without hesitation, he scooped her up into his arms. “Yoongi—! Put me—”

He placed her into the passenger seat effortlessly, shutting the door before she could react. By the time she registered what had happened, he was already in the driver’s seat, the engine roared to life and the sound reverberated through the empty parking lot. He shifted into gear and the car rolled forward smoothly while amusement played at the edges of his lips.

She pulled at the door handle multiple times, but it was locked. “This is kidanpping,” she said.

He laughed as he drove out of the parking lot and into the streets of Seoul. “Just sit still and behave, darling,” he said. 

“Stop the car,” she said like non of this was amusing to her. “I am not doing this.” 

Yoongi laughed. A real, amused laugh that rumbled from his chest and filled the car. He only flicked his gaze toward her briefly, his smirk deepening at the defiant fire burning in her eyes.

"Hey, do you understand the capacity of what my parents will do when they find out I am not in my hotel room?!" Aalia snapped, her voice sharp with urgency.

He arched a brow, the corners of his lips twitching upward. "Capacity?" he echoed, amusement lacing his tone. "You have a strange vocabulary."

Her scowl deepened. The dim city lights illuminated her face in flickering hues, casting shadows beneath her sharp cheekbones and the faint glow of the dashboard traced the shape of her parted lips. He could see it now—the concern etched into her expression, and it only made him want to keep her with him even more.

He contuntied to drive, but then his jaw ticked and his grip on the steering wheel tightened as the image burned in his mind—the man at the table, his arm slung over the back of her chair, fingers resting just a little too close to her shoulder. It replayed over and over, a flickering reel of something he hadn’t been able to stop. “Who was he?" his voice was low.

Aalia knew exactly who he was refering to. “Oh, that is insolent,” she said sarcasticly. “None of your business.”

He chuckled at her sarcasm, low and smooth, like the purr of an expensive engine idling in the night. "Everything about you is my business, Aalia," he said.

Aalia bit the inside corner of her mouth, an attempt to keep her thoughts from slipping past her lips. It was a habit Yoongi had come to recognize. Her gaze was fixed stubbornly ahead, he knew she was holding back something she wanted to spit at him but wouldn't.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked, breaking the silence. "We've been driving for two hours."

"We're almost there," he replied, voice nonchalant, giving her nothing.

She didn't press further. Instead, she turned her head away and she did not speak to him again.

The glittering skyline of Daegu emerged from the darkness, but it felt like slipping beneath the surface of deep water. The car turned onto an isolated road and then, an abandoned parking lot stretched out before them.

Hundreds of cars lined the space—sleek sports cars with candy-coloured finishes, muscle cars with hoods popped open like trophies on display and motorcycles with chrome gleaming under the flickering overhead lights. Engines purred, roared, and revved, filling the air with a mechanical symphony. Some had their trunks popped open, music spilling out in deep, rolling bass lines that vibrated through the ground. Others stood in clusters, headlights illuminating the figures that moved between them—some talking, some laughing, some dealing in hushed tones.

To the right, a makeshift dance floor had been cleared. The DJ booth was set up on an elevated platform, a neon sign flickering above it, casting a glow over the crowd. Bodies moved to the music, hips swaying, hands raised, silhouettes shifting in the flashing lights. The air smelled of gasoline, cigarette smoke, and something sweeter—perfume mixed with sin.

Aalia looked at Yoongi, her brows furrowing in genuine confusion. "What is this?" she asked, her voice low but laced with curiosity. "Tokyo Drift?"

A laugh rumbled from Yoongi’s chest, deep and unguarded. He shook his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "No," he said. "This is Daegu."

Outside, the air vibrated with the bass-heavy rhythm of music bleeding from hidden speakers, the scent of gasoline and something thick in the atmosphere. Money slipped from palm to palm. The sharp flick of a lighter igniting. Laughter laced with something dark and indulgent. This was his kingdom, and beneath the roar of engines and the illusion of revelry, the real transactions took place—drugs, sex, alcohol, and power shifting hands in the undercurrent of the night.

Jimin ran Kitty Gang, but this was Yoongi’s domain.

Yoongi turned to her, his expression no longer playful nor teasing. It was firm amd serious, carrying the weight of something she wasn’t sure she wanted to understand. "Aalia," he said her name in a steady and deliberate tone so she knew the gravity of where she was. "I need you to follow a few rules while you're here." Her gaze flickered to him, sensing the shift in his demeanor. He raised a hand, counting off with his fingers. "You stay close to me at all times," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You don't talk to anyone—especially the men. Do not drink anything unless I give it to you."

Her mind pondered for a moment before speaking. "I'm not arguing," she said carefully. "But what if I want water?"

Yoongi knew the kind of things that went on here, the kind of substances that could be slipped into a drink without anyone noticing. He knew which ones were laced and which weren’t. She did not. His gaze softened, but his tone remained firm. "Then I will get it for you," he said. "Do not take drinks from anyone else. Not even water."

Aalia held his gaze for a moment, studying him, reading the unspoken warning behind his words. Then, slowly, she gave a small nod. Yoongi exhaled, his eyes darkening with approval. "Good girl," he murmured, and with that, they both got out of the car.

It was well past midnight now, and the event showed no signs of slowing down. The crowd had thickened, the tension in the air becoming almost tangible as more cars lined up, revving their engines in anticipation for the next round. Yoongi sat off to the side where he usually sat. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes never stopped scanning the surroundings—always watching, always calculating.

Aalia sat beside him, her figure poised in the soft glow of the overhead lights. He had just finished discussing some unsavory matters with a few individuals. But from time to time Yoongi’s gaze shifted to Aalia, his eyes softening as he checked in on her. She didn’t belong here, not in the way the others did. And yet, there was something about her in this environment that drew his eyes. She was like a delicate flower in a wild jungle.

Aalia didn’t seem to notice the way he was watching her. She was too busy taking in the sights, her eyes wide, reflecting the neon lights from the cars and the excitement in the air. Her lips parted in a subtle expression of awe as the cars sped by in front of her. The sound of the engines ignited something inside her. She shifted in her seat, then stood up, but Yoongi’s hand reached out, fingers gripping her wrist, pulling her back down beside him. 

"No," he said, the single word firm, a command that left no room for argument.

Aalia paused, looking up at him, her expression a mixture of surprise and determination. "I promise I’ll be in your line of sight," her voice was gentle.

Before he could shake his head or protest, a figure emerged from the crowd, walking steadily toward him. It was the man Jimin had mentioned a few days ago to him. This was a conversation he did not want Aalia to overhear, not with everything that was about to be said. But with the man now approaching, there was little time to argue with her.

"Fine, but—" 

"I know," she sighed, almost like she was trying to calm both of them. "No taking drinks. I promise."

Yoongi stared at her, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt. He saw none. The sincerity in her gaze was undeniable, and against his better judgment, he trusted her. Slowly, his hand loosened its grip on her wrist, his thumb brushing against the soft skin. He nodded, though the unease still lingered at the back of his mind. With one last glance at him, she turned and stepped into the maze of cars, weaving through the bodies and vehicles like she had been here all along.

Aalia continued to walk through the maze of cars, the sound of engines revving and tires in the distnace screeching filling the air as people drifted. She was in awe of the chaos, the organized madness of it all.She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she wandered deeper into the crowd, but stayed in Yoongi’s line of sight as promised. 

The women around her seemed to divide into two camps. Half of them cast curious, almost pitying glances her way, their eyes soft as if they were looking at a lost child who needed protection. Aalia could feel their gazes, their unspoken offer to help her navigate the madness. It made her smile, the warmth of their unspoken kindness like a soft, comforting blanket. But the other half of the women were far more territorial, their gazes sharper, eyes narrowed as they clung to their boyfriends, subtly making it clear that their men were taken and they were not to be messed with. Aalia couldn’t help but laugh under her breath. She had no interest in their boyfriends. She wasn’t here for anyone else’s man—certainly not for the men who saw her like candy in a candy store. 

And then, she collided with someone.

"Am I hallucinating?" She looked up to see a very surprised Jeon Jungkook, his hands perched on his hips like a disapproving older brother. 

Aalia froze, her eyes widening. “I’m not here.”

Jungkook watched her attempt to turn and leave, his eyes narrowing as he quickly stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his tone filled with that protective panic. "Never mind, I’m taking you back to Yongsan. Let’s go. 

“Actually…” she dragged out the word.

Jungkook froze in place, his entire posture stiffening as he waited for her to finish. His brain ran through every possible scenario, and none of them made sense. He knew Yoongi was here tonight, but this… this was a whole new level of confusion. His eyes flicked over her, trying to make sense of it. Then, his gaze shifted to the side, where he spotted Yoongi sitting in his usual spot, still engaged in conversation with the man Jimin had mentioned.

For a moment, Jungkook painced. ‘Did she see him? I hope not’ he thought to himself as he stood there. But her lack of panic made his expression morphing into one of silent and slow realization. It was like a lightbulb flicked on above his head. “Wait,” he mumbled, blinking rapidly like he could unsee the entire scene if he tried hard enough. He stared at Yoongi, then back at Aalia, trying to process this new layer of chaos that had been added to his life. “You and…”

Aalia wished she had Harry Potter’s invisibilty cloak, but she nodded – it was barely noticble, but Jungkook’s expression flickered with everything from concern to exasperation. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered under his breath. “You with him?” he could not believe this. Not because she was not to Yoongi’s standerds – if anything she was way above. Aalia was smart, witty and she a perosnality, her looks were only a bonus. But it’s the fact that she was the type of girl who would not go out unless she had a few days notice ahead, the kind of girl that no matter her age she was still innocent to the darker ways of the world.

“Just…be careful, okay?” He sighed, not wanting her to explain, knew better than to start a scene right now. “And don’t-“

“Don’t take drinks from anyone,” she said. “Got it.”

“Yes, exactly.” Jungkook nodded vigorously, like he had just imparted some groundbreaking wisdom. “And don’t let anyone try to lure you into any alleyways. I can see that he is watching you, but I will also be keeping an eye on you.” She gave him a small nod and he sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he gave her one last look, his silent warning lingering in the air before he turned and disappeared back into the crowd.

Aalia exhaled, her body still humming with the adrenaline of their unexpected encounter. But before she could take another step, a voice called out to her. "You’re Jungkook’s friend, right?"

Aalia turned—a group of girls standing near a sleek purple car, their makeup flawless, their outfits effortlessly bold. They weren’t intimidating, though; their eyes held curiosity rather than hostility. One of them, a girl with deep brown curls and sharp winged eyeliner, smiled. "Don’t worry, we won’t bite. We just don’t see new faces often. Especially not ones like yours."

Aalia hesitated, glancing back toward where Yoongi sat, still engaged in his conversation. But she had promised to stay in his sight, and this group seemed…safe. Another girl, taller with short platinum blonde hair and a mischievous smirk, nudged her playfully. "You don’t look like you belong here, princess. But don’t worry, that’s not an insult. If Jungkook vouches for you, you’re good with us." Aalia found herself smiling despite her initial nerves. 

The girls introduced themselves—Jiwon, Ami, and Hana—and soon, the conversation flowed naturally. They made her feel welcome, asking her questions, teasing her lightly, but never in a way that made her uncomfortable. The longer she stood with them, the more she realized how different they were from the sharp, territorial glances she’d received earlier. These girls weren’t here to size her up or tear her down. They were simply here to have fun.

Jiwon slung an arm around her. "Come on, if you’re gonna be here, you might as well enjoy yourself.”

The girls led her toward the makeshift dance floor, their energy infectious. The music had shifted into something sultry, the unmistakable beat of Wild Thoughts vibrating through the air. The deep bass rolled through her chest, and Aalia could feel the pulse of the rhythm beneath her skin. The crowd moved in waves, bodies swaying, hands reaching up toward the night sky, neon lights painting their silhouettes in flickering hues of crimson and violet.

At first, she was cautious. The weight of the unfamiliar environment still lingered in her limbs, keeping her movements small, contained. But then Jiwon caught her hand, twirling her playfully before letting go with a laugh. The music climbed, and she let herself exhale, let herself feel the beat. The rhythm seeped into her bones, and slowly, her body began to move with it.

From across the lot, Yoongi watched. He had been in the middle of his conversation when his eyes found her—drawn to her like gravity.  He almost didn’t recognize her at first because she was doing something he had not expected.

‘I don’t feel comfortable dancing in placed like this,’ her voice echoed in his head from a month ago, and it made him smile. He took a slow sip of his drink, his expression unreadable, but his fingers curled slightly around the glass as he continued to watch. So this is what she looks like under the pulsing lights. He should’ve known. She looked beautiful.

The music pulsed through the air as each song played, thick and sultry, a slow burn that seeped beneath the skin. Yoongi couldn’t hear her. Not over the roar of engines, not over the bass that rattled through the air, not over the chaos of the night. But he could see her. She had lost herself. He could tell in the way her she moved, untamed, unapologetic. Her head swaying from side to side, the neon lights catching on her skin. Her lips parted, forming words he couldn’t make out.

Sleazin' and teasin', I'm sittin' on him

All of my diamonds are drippin' on him

I met him at the bar, it was twelve or somethin’

I ordered two more wines, 'cause tonight, I want him...

A little context if you care to listen…

I find myself in a shit position…

The man that I love sat me down last night…

And he told me that it’s over, dumb decision…

Yoongi exhaled slowly. He knew Aalia had never experienced anything the song described—never drowned herself in liquor to forget, never once entertained the kind of thoughts currently clawing at the edges of his mind. He had always known restraint, understood patience. And he had no desire to be careless with her. The dark part of him wondered what she would taste like if she let herself lose control the way she danced. She didn’t even know what she was doing to him and how unfair it was—the way her lips formed each word, the way her fingers dragged absentmindedly along the column of her own throat, the way her waist twisted, her body surrendering to the rhythm.

Min Yoongi was not a religious man, but watching her like this, he was praying for strength. He reached for the lighter and pull out a ciggaret.

‘And I'm already actin' like a dick, know what I mean? 

So you might as well stick it in.

He took a slow drag from his cigarette and exhaled, the smoke curled around him. She whispered the lyrics like a confession to the night itself.

Just a heart broke bitch, high heels, six inch In the back of the nightclub, sippin' champagne—

His fingers twitched. His mind was mocking him—fuck, he couldn’t help but imagine the way she would tilt her head, exposing the soft curve of her throat, the way his hands would fit perfectly around her waist, guiding her onto his lap, making her feel every inch of the torment she was putting him through right now. 

And she was so fucking unaware of him, of the way he was watching her like a starving man at a feast he wasn’t allowed to touch. And maybe that was the cruelest part of it all—the fact that she wasn’t even trying. She wasn’t some woman trying to make him sweat, she wasn’t aiming to entice, to seduce. She was just there, lost in the music, lost in the night, lost in everything but him.

Give it to me, baby!

He took another drag from his ciggaret, the most filling hia lungs beore he exhaled, chest rising and falling. Fuck, he could hear it now, the way her voice would break, the way her lips would tremble, breathy and desperate, he could hear her gasping them against his lips, beneath him. How she would look up at him with those wide, pleading eyes and let him ruin her with his name on her tongue.

His head tilted back slightly, exhaling a slow, measured breath, but it didn’t fucking help. The image was already there, carved into the back of his mind like a burn driving him to the edge. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn’t, not when she was right there, not when she was moving like that. 

She raised a hand to her lips and laughed as if she was wiping away something. 

'mmmm, lipstick smudged like modern art 

I don't know where the fuck I am or who's drivin' the fuckin' car 

Speedin' down the highway, sippin' 

Mixin' pills with the liquor 'cah fuck these feelings 

I left everyone I love on read 

Spilling secrets to the stranger in my bed

I remember nothing, so there's nothing to regret

Other than this 4-4 kick drum poundin' in my head

Aalia stumbled off the dance floor, breathless, laughing, cheeks flushed from the heat of movement. She was still buzzing, still floating from the high of it all as she made her way through the crowd. And Yoongi sat waiting. His dark eyes burned into her, but he kept his face unreadable, despite the fact that every muscle in his body was wound tight with restraint.

She reached him, and before she could say a word, he held out an orange juice box toward her. Aalia blinked, surprised, before recognition flickered in her gaze and his words rang in her ears, ‘don’t drink anything unless I give it to you.’ She took the juice box from him, her fingers brushing over his. He was sticking to his word. 

As it was nearing two am, Aalia asked Yoongi for his car keys so she could wait inside for him. And after a while, when everyone had left, Yoongi moved through the space with a quiet authority, peeling off a stack of bills from the money earned that night and passing it to the DJ and a few of the other workers who had stayed late. Once business was settled, he finally stepped outside, inhaling the crisp night air as he made his way to his car and he tapped on the window for her to unlock.

He sat in the driver’s seat, but found it amusing how her brows were slightly furrowed, her gaze locked to the dashboard clock. She was still worried—he knew this was the latest she had ever been out, especially alone with a man. The thought sent a wicked kind of satisfaction through him.

Yoongi rolled up a stack of money between his fingers, watching her. Then he reached out for the thin strap of her dress. Aalia smacked his hand away without hesitation. He laughed, a deep, husky sound that filled the confined space of the car. Undeterred, he reached for the strap again, slipping the rolled-up bills beneath it, letting his fingers graze the silk of her skin. Her eyes burned into his, sharp and unyielding. Without breaking eye contact, she pulled the money out and held it back to him. "I don't need, nor want your money."

Yoongi said nothing. Instead, he started the car, the engine rumbling to life as the city lights stretched out before them. Aalia sighed, sinking into the seat as they pulled onto the highway back to Seoul.

"You know, when we first met, you said you didn’t dance," Yoongi remarked, his voice smooth. She didn’t respond. Her arms folded tightly over her chest, her long hair falling over one shoulder, the shorter pieces framing her face. He glanced at her, taking in the way exhaustion softened her features, the remnants of the night still clinging to her in the form of smeared lipstick and flushed cheeks. "You’re even more beautiful when you’re mad."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes before reaching down to remove her heels. Pulling her legs up under her, she shifted in her seat—her knee accidentally hitting the glove compartment. It popped open with a soft click. Aalia froze for a moment before glancing down. Her eyes landed on a piece of fabric tucked inside, and she let out a dry laugh. "I see you have a lady-friend, sir."

"That’s yours, darling."

She blinked, and realization dawned in her expression. Tentatively, she reached for the cardigan, running her fingers over the soft material before pulling it into her lap. Without a word, she draped it over her legs, not because she was cold, but because the slit in her dress felt suddenly too revealing.

By the time they reached Seoul, dawn had begun to break, painting the sky in muted blues and pinks. Yoongi pulled into the parking lot the ame hotel. He parked, cutting the engine, and Aalia stirred, stretching slightly before pushing open the door. The cardigan was now wrapped around her shoulders, her high heels swinging from her fingers as she walked barefoot towards the entrance.

Yoongi followed, his steps slow, measured. She remained ahead of him, never once looking back, even as they stepped into the elevator together. The soft ding of the fifth floor echoed in the quiet space, and as the doors slid open, Aalia stepped out first, her exhaustion evident in the slow drag of her feet. Yoongi watched her, his gaze never leaving her. There was an overwhelming urge to take her to his suite, to keep her there, safe and untouched by the rest of the world. But he resisted. It wasn’t time yet. So, he turned, walking down the hallway in the opposite direction as she disappeared into the other end of the corridor, the ghost of her perfume still clinging to the air.

Don’t forget to like and comment.

You can read the entire book on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64009903/chapters/164201557

[anyca786]

"VISERYS IS DEAD"

Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister &niece) poly relationship, mention of dead, miscarriage.

Series

Two days have passed since they arrived back on Dragonstone, much to everyone's relief. The Keep had practically been suffocating enough and knew that if they stayed any longer, it wouldn't end well for both parties.

As the first rays of dawn, pale and rose-tinted, crept through the heavy drapes of their bedchamber, painting the room in soft light. Daenys stirred, her pale hair a tangled halo around her face on the plush pillow.

Daemon, already awake, lay beside her, propped on an elbow, his purple eyes fixed on her with a fond smile. He gently brushed a stray strand of her pale hair from her cheek, his touch feather-light.

"Good morrow, my love," he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

Daenys blinked sleepily, her lips curving into a soft smile as she met his gaze. "Morrow, husband." She stretched languidly, a small, contented sigh escaping her.

He watched her, a warm feeling spreading through him. He loved these quiet moments, before the demands of court and family intruded. He traced the delicate line of her jaw with his fingertip, his eyes lingering on her soft expression.

"You are so beautiful in the morning light," he whispered, his voice husky.

Daenys blushed slightly, her cheeks tinged with pink. "You say that every morning, Daemon" she teased, though a pleased smile played on her lips.

Daemon chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "And I shall continue to do so, for it is always true." He paused, his gaze becoming more serious, though a playful glint remained in his eyes. "It makes me think… we should add another little dragon to our nest."

Daenys’s eyes widened slightly, and a deeper blush bloomed on her cheeks. She looked down, a shy smile gracing her lips. The idea of another child with Daemon filled her with a warm, happy feeling.

"Daemon…" she began softly, her voice barely a whisper.

He gently cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head up so he could meet her gaze. "I am serious, Daenys. I would have many children with you. Make it equal for both my wives" He chuckled softly.

Daenys bit her lip, her heart fluttering at his words. "Rhaenyra is due to give birth soon," she reminded him gently. "Perhaps… after the babe is born, we could… try."

A wide grin spread across Daemon’s face. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his hand gently resting on her stomach. "That is all I needed to hear, my love," he murmured against her lips. "After the babe arrives, we shall try for another. Perhaps, one more princess like you” He winked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Daenys laughed softly, her blush deepening, but her eyes sparkled with happiness. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.

However, the warmth of their embrace was broken by a discreet knock at the bedchamber door. Daemon groaned playfully, pulling away from Daenys with a mock sigh.

The door opened slightly, revealing a guard in Targaryen livery. He bowed his head respectfully. "Your Graces," he announced, his voice low and formal. "Princess Rhaenyra requests your presence in the court room"

🥀

In the courtroom, Daenys had arrived to find Rhaenyra already there waiting. The Heir held a protective hand over her belly and looked up when the doors swung open to see Daenys going straight to her, "Should we be worried?"

"Princess Rhaenys was seen on dragonback," Daemon said, who was the first one to reach the courtroom.

"Princess Rhaenys hasn't arrived yet. She's most likely coming though," Rhaenyra stated, also anxious about what was happening.

"Maybe something went wrong in Kingslanding." Daenys suggested but shook her head at the thought, "Maybe we shouldn't worry and wait for what Princess Rhaenys has to say. This could be about the Stepstones. Has something happened to Lord Corlys?" Daenys blunts out.

Daemon was quiet and was in the middle of thinking of the worst possible scenarios.

Daenys placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Daemon gave a false smile as he placed his hand on top of hers.

The doors opened to reveal Princess Rhaenys, accompanied by a guard.

"Thank you, Ser Lorent." Rhaenyra thanked them and gave her wife a look for her to follow. Daenys held out her arm to help her walk but also for comfort.

Princess Rhaenys' presence became known when she walked in. Daenys gave her cousin a smile and nodded, "Cousin Rhaenys."

"Daenys, it's good to see that you are well," Rhaenys replied.

"Princess Rhaenys," Rhaenyra greeted. "Might we hope for Lord Corlys' recovery," she smiled.

"Viserys is dead," Rhaenys announced.

It was as if Daenys was thrown into cold water, and if she wasn't holding onto Rhaenyra, she would've fallen.

She looked at Daemon and grabbed his hand. Her eyes held worry seeing the expression on his face.

She could feel Rhaenyra choke up a bit at the news and hold her arm tighter.

Viserys, her elder brother. Her backbone. The one who always stood up for her and loved her like a father was no more.

"I grieve this loss with you, Rhaenyra," Rhaenys told her, she too was still processing her cousin's death. They may have had their ups and downs, but he was always kind to her. "My cousin, your father..possessed a kind heart."

Daenys eyes stung, recalling the moments of the Keep. The memories of her, Viserys and Daemon's childhood together. How Viserys used to protect her from everything. How he used to make her laugh. He always took her side when Daemon and her used to fight.

Daemon looked like a ghost. The regret was seeping inside him for not being there for him and how their relationship ended so horribly. And as for Rhaenyra had lost the only parent she had left.

"There is more," Rhaenys continued.

"How could this have happened?" Daenys spoke up, sounding both hurt and angry. Grief clouded her vision and found herself leaning into Daemon. He held her tightly, boiling in anger.

Suddenly, Rhaenyra felt a pain in her stomach, making her wince.

"Nyra!" Daenys yelled in concern, "What happened?"

"I'm okay," Rhaenyra uttered and stood up straight once more before looking at Rhaenys. "They crowned him..?"she asked quietly, feeling devastated as she looked at Rhaenys for confirmation.

"How did Viserys die?" Daemon asked sharply, speaking up for the first time since he heard the news.

"How long ago?" Daenys asked.

"A day passed, perhaps two. I was made a prisoner in my quarters while the Queen made her preparations." Rhaenys explained,"Viserys has been slain-,"

"Alicent demanded you declare for Aegon," Rhaenyra concluded, adding the pieces together.

"She did," Rhaenys responded with a nod.

"But you had refused," Daenys started earning a nod from Rhaenys. They wouldn't just let her go. Not without trapping her from leaving. The thought of anyone harming her cousin made Daenys angry a bit, "How are you still-"

"Alive? The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit. I witnessed it myself just before I fled on Meleys,"

Rhaenyra felt another course of pain but ignored it.

"They crowned him before the masses," Rhaenyra said painfully as if she were stabbed in the heart. Almost in tears, maybe it was the fact that Alicent had been the one to agree to the plan despite coming together once more at the dinner.

Daenys felt betrayed as well. She had thought that they were getting somewhere by moving past everything and was willing to start over their friendship.

The Princess placed a hand over her scar on the collarbone,"So that the masses would see him as their rightful King,"Rhaenys said.

"That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne, and you could have burned them all for it," Daemon yelled angrily. His brother was dead, and the crown was stolen that was meant for Rhaenyra, his wife.

"A war is like to be fought over this treachery to be sure," Rhaenys told him, justifying her actions. This was not her fight, at least not yet.

"Hmm," Daemon hummed but angry.

Daenys paced back and forth while her hand rested on her thigh where her dagger rested underneath. She was itching to lash out and bring blood but refrained due to Rhaenyra and Daemon's loss. Her thoughts train to 0tto Hightower, how she wanted to put his head on a spike... or Alicent's, no longer did she hold any sympathy for her or the Greens.

"But that war is not mine," Rhaenys told him with a glare, "I only rushed this morning to tell you out of loyalty to my husband and my House... The Greens are coming for you Rhaenyra, Daenys, and your children....You should leave Dragonstone at once."

Hearing those words out loud about how they would come for their children made Daenys furious. Imagining someone hurting their children made her blood.

Rhaenyra groaned once more in pain before looking at her wife panicky, "Daenys, there is something wrong," she moaned in distress.

Daenys looked at her alarm and helped her with her dress. Rhaenyra pulled up her hand to reveal blood.

"No..." Daenys muttered fearfully for her wife and the babe,"The babe is coming," she said, slightly panicked. They weren't supposed to come this early.

🥀

"Daemon...Daenys.." Rhaenyra shouts echoed all over the castle.

Even though Daenys wanted to be with Rhaenyra, she couldn't. Not while Daemon is fuming and wanting to plot against the Greens. She can not let that happen without Rhaenyra's presence in the court.

"Daemon-" she tried to stop him but he ignored her.

Suddenly, Rhaenyra's shouts became louder and louder, calling for her husband and wife. Daenys couldn't bear it anymore and ran towards her wife, crossing Jacaerys, who was walking towards the courtroom fuming.

When Daenys entered the birthing chamber, she met the most gruesome scene ever. Pool of blood everywhere. Rhaenyra holding their still born and deformed daughter. Their Visenya. Rhaenyra's only daughter. Daenys let out a small whimper at the sight, she could've sworn the babe resemblance to an actual dragon. The child had appeared with scales, and twisted limbs that looks like wings.

"They took my Visenya" Rhaenyra muttered, in misery as she carefully cradled the dead babe back and forth in her arms, "They took our daughter, away from us" she continued.

Daenys held her close, trying to console Rhaenyra while she let out a mournful wail. Rhaenyra hummed at the feeling of her wife's arms caging around her like a security blanket.

"We will get our revenge, my love. They will pay for it." Daenys's eyes darkened as she made the promise to her wife. Tears streamed down her face and grieved over the loss of their child, "I will make them all pay,"

"I want to be alone with her," Rhaenyra stated.

Daenys understood and stood up, placing a kiss on her forehead and cupping the dead babe's face, "Visenya, you'll never be forgotten," she whispered.

With that, she walks out of the chamber as Rhaenyra herself cleaned and dressed Visenya for the funeral. Bidding her only daughter, a final goodbye.

A newfound respect for Rhaenyra grew within Daenys, how strong her wife is, for she could never imagine what she would do if something like this ever happens.

When she reached the balcony, she saw Daemon standing still on the sea shore, devastated. He excises a lifetime of pain and grief and loss.

A wave of nausea washed over her, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. It was a cruel twist of fate, a blow that struck her core. On this day, Daenys Targaryen made a promise to herself that she will seek vengeance for their daughter, her wife and husband.

A/N: I know I haven't updated for a long time. My favourite uncle died a month ago. Got diagnosed with autoimmune disease myself. I'll try to finish the season one before New Year's.

[shitapril]

predictions for the livery reveal/show thingamabob

lewis will be asked all sorts of questions, and he will without a doubt take the "smile and wave boys" and "deny deny deny" route

lando will be asked about his chance at wdc, he will answer with "that's the goal", headlines tomorrow will be "norris vows to do whatever it takes to win wdc, even run over verstappen and sabotage piastri"

mgk's mic will be cutoff three times or/and he will be caught lip syncing

franco will absolutely be haunting the narrative silently

lots and lots of divorce allusions and very did-not-part-amicably energy all around (not irl, but the script will coded like that iykwim)

james vowles will perform his sonnet he penned about carlos

lot of baby talk for the rookies

alpine will have a very, very questionable hit-or-miss livery, haas and williams will devour, ferrari and mclaren play safe, mercedes will have a futuristic toothpaste tube design-esque vibe, sauber with their ben 10 theme, aston martin and redbull will ctrl c + ctrl v

jack whitehall will make many (likely bad) jokes, ninety percent of the grid will stare blankly, he'll do his awkward loud giggle and camera will pan to max/fernando looking like they'd rather be anywhere but here

max will be asked questions about his impending fatherhood, he will give very wholesome answers, grid godfather wars maybe ?

regardless of what happens, lot of rpf-y content will come out and I for one will enjoy it.

[darkmagyk]

Part 4 of Let them Call it a Sin

3 hours ago, it was midnight I was like "no writing today, but that's fine." And then I wrote this in the middle of the night. So that's fun.

Percy had been in an absolute panic for days. He’d been to war as a squire for the first time at 12. This was worse than a battlefield, worse than seeing a sword swinging at his head. Worse than being young and unprepared. And at least at war disquiet was expected.

The queen was giving birth. And the Duke of Thera would be expected to hhow basic concern, but not the deep, soul crushing anxiety that was currently his constant  companion.

Annabeth, the woman he loved, was giving birth to his child. The most dangerous time of a woman's life, and he could not be with her, could not express his deep worry for her, could not truly tell anyone of his fears for the baby. 

He wished he could see her again. Before the king court arrived three weeks ago he'd had three months with her, three months of play acting house.  It was a domestic bliss he could never have, for how would he ever love any other woman more than he loved his Queen. And he would settle for no less

He wished she could see his mother. His mother knew his dark secret. And he knew she could offer him comfort. But unlike Percy, Lady Sally was allowed to attend the queen. That was its own comfort. For their was no one better placed to help Annabeth. But the separation still hurt.

He'd gone riding yesterday, to the farthest ends of his estate. He hadn’t gotten back until dark.  But he couldn't bear to be that far away today. What if something happened? He prayed nothing would happen to the baby. And he tried not to think about anything else, because if something happened to Annabeth he truly did not know how he would go on.

He should have gone and found his father, the King was likely to be first informed if something went wrong with the queen, but he couldn't stand the man's apathy right now. Anymore than he could stand his own deception.

He was hiding in his Library. The last Duke of Thera, or perhaps the one before that, had been a great scholar. It was a well-stocked, beautifully decorated space, full of comfortable couches and intricate tables. Annabeth had loved it when they had first toured his house,  she said it reminded her of home, both her father and uncle kept excellent libraries. She'd sometimes fall asleep on one of the couches,  and it still smelled like her.

Sometimes he threw himself down to be surrounded by her scent. And sometimes he flung himself away, afraid of never smelling it again. 

He was on the couch now, trying to think of anything else he could do with himself.  He nearly screamed at the poor page who knocked on the door, interrupting his brooding. If the boy had entered without knocking, which some of the Royal pages had taken to doing, he might have. But the boy knocked, so Percy kept his head and called for the boy to enter.

The boy was wearing the king's livery,  and bowed to Percy, who rose to greet him. 

“If it pleases, Your Grace, the King has asked for you to attend him. The queen gave birth and he wishes to have a prayer to the Gods for the baby's health.”

“ The baby is born?” Percy said, feeling an entirely new form of shock. His child was here. Real and present and not just a growing phantom in a belly. “Is the queen all right?”

“The Princess was born,” The boy said. A princess. Percy had a daughter, “ and the queen's alive.” 

 Percy would take the lack of a ‘for now’  on the end of his sentence to mean at least no rumors of her imminent death were spreading below stairs.

He would content himself with that right now, and see his father. 

***

He at least made it through the prayer service without crying or attacking the king when he bemoaned, just to his bastard son,  but he’d wanted a boy. 

Though after he said that he'd pause and gave Percy a long. considered look. If Percy were younger, or perhaps had more respect for his father’s intelligence, he might have feared the king figured him out in that moment. But he just stared back, wondering what the King saw when he looked at his son and tractor. Then the king clapped his shoulder, and said “I've got two strong sons already. A daughter can be useful, can she not?”

Percy had enough control to agree, “ Yes sir.” and then, perhaps boldend by a year of Annabeth's tutelage, added “Lady Sally gave birth not so long ago, also to a girl. She will be of an age with the princess,  perhaps if Lady Sally were giving some charge over her nursery, Lady Estelle would be a fitting playmate.”

His father considered him again, and Percy wondered if he thought it was some sort of bad trick to get his mother and father back together. A silly idea. King Poseidon was married as surely as Lady Sally was. And he wished his father on his mother no more than he wished his father on Annabeth. Though Queen Annabeth and Lady Sally were both too linked with him to truly escape.

“A sharp idea, lad,” his father said, “I really need no more sons when I have one as sharp as you, do I.” 

“I'm glad to serve,” Was all Percy responded. He did not like the look his father kept giving him. Too much of the King's attention often worked out for Percy, it had gotten him titles, lands, and important military campaigns. But in these circumstances that made him all the more uneasy.

“What will you name your princess?”

“Oh yes,”  the king sighed, “ I suppose I hadn't really thought about that. I could name her after my mother.” Princess Rhea was not as pretty as Princess Annabeth or Princess Sophia, but it would do. Percy was sure he would learn to love it as much as he loved the girl. ”But I'm not sure. Maybe I’ll leave it to the queen to decide. It will save me the trouble of thinking of it. As I learned from your mother, women often have some sort of ideas about that.”

“That would be very generous, Your Majesty.”  Percy said, and could not suppress his smile at the thought of his little Princess Sophia, “ I'm sure the queen will love that. How fairs she?”

“She's not dead,” Poseidon said like he was commenting on the weather, preferring a sunny day, but knowing a raining one would not ruing his day, “and I'm told there's no worry, yet,  that will change.”

“I will pray for her continued good health,”  Percy choked out, “and that of my new little sister.”

He was not able to excuse himself until after luncheon.  Luckily his father did not dwell on either the queen or princess. It made Percy despise the man if you never had before, but it also meant he did not have to think on it over much, and come up with things to say that we're not professing his love.

His father wanted to know about the estate and the Duchy of Thera. Percy was able to speak on that. On hearing petitions from his peasants and speaking to the Lord's under him. How his steward Grover had many ideas about the crops and how to get the best yields for many years to come, and how Percy was considering collecting taxes this year. His father nodded in approval, and Percy had never once cared about his approval less.

He finally got away when the king called for his pipe. Claiming exhaustion and thinking he would need to have someone seriously air out this room when the Royal Court finally vacated it, so he did not wonder about Annabeth and the baby.

He did not want to return to the library, but with so many members of court crawling around his house, he’d ended up having his steward make the library up as his bedroom so he would not have to figure out exactly where among the Dukes and duchesses he was supposed to be  housed. 

He’d brought the third best bed for those purposes. Leaving the first for Annabeth and the second for his mother and Paul. The king traveled with his own. And Triton would just have to make do. 

He splashed some water into his face and spent a few minute heaving over the chamber pot, just to make sure he wouldn’t throw up anywhere else.

Then he said his own private prayers for Queen Annabeth and Princess Sophia.  

His mother found him kneeling on the bed after the sun had gone down, and his valet had brought him his meal.

“She's all right,” she assured him as soon as the door had closed behind her, “and the baby as well. Both have gone to sleep right now, and I imagine after one more night and a hearty breakfast in the morning our Queen will be able to get out of bed. The wet nurse said the baby took her food well. So you have nothing to worry about.”

“They could take a turn.”   Percy said.

His mother sighed, sitting down on the bed next to him, and taking his hand, she squeezed it.

“My boy, tomorrow you could take a turn. Do not invite that worry into your life early. Both mother and child are doing well, all evidence suggests they will continue to do so. Perhaps as soon as tomorrow you shall see the queen.” Her eyes narrowed, “but you will give her several months rest.”

“I had not even thought…what do I need to do too…”

“Perhaps the three of us shall discuss that later. Right now I think you need to rest.  it's been a hard few days for you.”

“Yes mother,” He agreed. He would rest. He would say his prayers and rest and dream of his love and his daughter. 

***

He did not see Annabeth the next day. It was three days when she put in an appearance, sitting next to the king briefly. She looked pale and tired. But in good spirits.

He did not get to speak to her for over a week. But he knew his father would have him into a private reception after the baby’s naming blessing, so he would be able to speak to her there. 

She looked a bit better then. In a new gown, he thought, a beautiful blue that brought out her eyes. The nursemaid behind her, carrying Sophia wrapped in blue and purple. A royal princess. 

“He will still be the king’s blood.” Annabeth had told him once, some months ago. He’s has always known he’ll have royal grandchildren. The fact that he does not already should shame Triton.” And Percy knew that it did. And caused the King quite a bit of worry and anger. “We are taking nothing which was not our due.”

It felt a little too pat, Percy thought, and he did not think the words would sway the executioner's blade. But it wasn’t entirely untrue. 

Percy was not with the royal family for this event. Triton was standing on the dais with the Priest, King, Queen, and baby Princess. Normally he didn’t care, not really. But right this second he would give anything to be so close to his daughter. 

“We are gathered here today,” the Priest started, “to ask the gods to bless this child, and to name her for their work.” 

It was a routine speech. Percy had been asked by several of his vassals to serve as witnesses to a naming blessing, A high honor. So he knew what to expect. 

Each of the 12 ruling gods would be named, and their blessings asked for in her life. She would be introduced to all of them by name. And then she would be considered ready to grow up, protected by the gods. 

He hoped Poseidon had not changed his mind about letting Annabeth name the baby. Percy had spoken to him several times, and he’d said he’d told Annabeth she could. But he could always change his mind. 

“To the king of the gods,” the Priest was saying, “We present you Princess Annabeth of House Atlantis and ask that you…”

He looked up sharply, and from the dais, Annabeth caught his eye, smiling. She’d not named the child Sophia, she’d used his name.

Annabeth had let him name his daughter.

His little Annabeth. 

He could not have loved either of them more if he tried.