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niniluvsainz · 1 year ago

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sad beautiful tragic ☽ cs55

(5.1k words)

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in which... falling out of love was both relieving and terrifying.

carlos sainz x wife!fem!reader

(PLEASE READ) warnings... pregnancy, falling out of love, angst, pregnancy symptoms, baby delivering, carlos is a dad, reader is a mom, no use of y/n, public marriage proposal, yelling, yelling in front of a child, ferrari, how is it a carlos fic without lando norris being the adoptive son, abortion mention, aggressive carlos, slamming hands on surface, slight unwanted pregnancy, divorce, confusing ending bcs its eleven pm and im sleepy, not proofread.

WHEN YOU AND CARLOS MET, it was unprepared and you were both two naive children. carlos was just jumpstarting his motorsport career, and while he was in england, he met you. it was a small moment, at a nightclub, but the moment he laid eyes on you he knew he had found his person. the spaniard didn't know that night, july ninth, would change his life forever.

you, in your elegant maroon dress, swaying your body to the beats echoing around the small room. he had offered to buy you a drink, and you, already one too many drinks in, could not reject a handsome young man's offer.

you exchanged numbers that same night, and promised to go out one day again. two weeks later, that promise was fulfilled.

"i hope you like sushi," carlos mentioned, opening your side of his car door. you smiled, as you both walked hand-in-hand into the luxurious restaurant.

after hours of getting to know each other over sushi, a few appetizers, and two bottles of wine, you both decided to give the relationship a try. of course, with his career came many different events for carlos to attend around the world, but when he would be back in england, he'd spend all his time with you.

when carlos was called to be promoted into formula one to join the scuderia toro rosso alongside max verstappen, you were the first one he called to deliver the news. the next week, carlos had flown in to england to celebrate with you. you had both celebrated in multiple ways, and in one of those particular occasions, you became pregnant.

the symptoms began lightly, you became dizzy very frequently, and it wasn't until you could not take the sickness anymore that you went for a doctor visit.

when you heard the phrase, congratulations--you are six weeks pregnant, the pit in your stomach enlarged. how would you tell carlos? would he want to be a father? were you ready to be a mother? you didn't know who to tell, you felt alone. your parents were not in the picture, so you were actually and completely alone.

carlos was in italy, preparing for his formula one debut, and he would not be coming to visit you in two weeks. those two weeks were absolute misery, you couldn't pass down food, you'd felt horrible. when carlos arrived in your house, you tried applying makeup to hide the hollowness in your cheeks and how your warm skin tone had faded. however, carlos immediately noticed, including the drastic weight loss on your body.

"amor, what happened?" carlos had concern laced in his tone and features, holding you delicately as he pulled away from the welcome embrace. carlos' eyes scanned over you, as you tried to swallow the breakdown climbing up.

"let's go sit, please." you whispered, motioning to your couch. carlos had a million thoughts run through his head, all leading to different outcomes.

"i'm pregnant; eight weeks." you paused for a few seconds to register carlos' reaction.

being pregnant was not on carlos' mental list.

carlos' body language said it all, according to you. the slight arm hold loosening, his body slightly jerking away, and his eyes--oh, the eyes you grew to love and adore, now you could see the numerous emotions flooding him.

before he could say anything, you spoke first. "listen, i understand if you do not want to keep this baby. but, i made my decision, and i'm keeping it. i'm not going to force you to be in the baby's life, because i understand having a baby right now when the most important part of your career is just about to start--" carlos leaned in and placed his lips on yours. the tears began falling to your cheeks, staining his own.

when he pulled away, he stared deeply into your eyes. "corazon, you just made me become the happiest man alive. i love you." a smile formed on your lips, before you embraced him tightly. you clung to him for dear life, happy and relieved you wouldn't be alone in this after all.

"i can speak with my family, my mother and sisters can help you. but, you would most likely have to move to spain with me." carlos explained, releasing from the hug. "oh," was all you could mutter.

you had never seen past britain, it's always been home to you. but you knew if you wanted help you couldn't do it alone. "wouldn't you think it's kind of weird, that the first time i'm meeting your family it's because i'm pregnant with your child?" you asked, nervousness beginning to bubble in your stomach.

"no," carlos immediately answered. "i was thinking either way of taking you to meet my family during my time here, so they are expecting you, and they're really excited to meet you." carlos reassured. you nodded with a small smile. with one last look, carlos got up and headed to the kitchen.

"what are you going to do?" you asked, facing the direction he walked. carlos began grabbing pans out of your cabinet and multiple ingredients.

"i'm going to make sure my girlfriend and little carlitos are well fed. now, what are you craving?"

when you knew your baby would be on the way, you were actually on a boat with ana and blanca, carlos' sisters. you felt the painful kicks, and immediately told both sisters. the first thing they did was tell the boat to turn back to shore as fast as humanly possible, and then they called carlos, who was with his parents. you don't know how, but you truly believe a higher power was helping you. you blacked out for everything, and it wasn't until you regained consciousness again that you were being given your baby into your arms. carlos was right beside you, staring down at your newborn child. he was crying, just as you were. "it's little carlitos." you whispered, looking up at carlos with a large smile on your face.

carlitos seemed to grow very quickly in your eyes. you were eternally grateful for carlos sr and reyes, for being the most loving grandparents for your baby. they both took you in and treated you just like their own blood, "como una verdadera familia." (like a real family.) ana and blanca became close to you, and were the aunts that would spoil every little dime for carlitos.

carlos, of course, was the best father ever. you will admit, both of you walked into parenthood not knowing almost anything, but with the help of carlos' family, you both learned. you had decided to not yet accompany carlos to his formula one races, as you did not want carlitos out with the media at such a young age. carlos understood your reasoning, but you both were always supporting him by the television screen.

birthday celebrations were surrounded by friends and family, and carlitos was over the moon when he would see all the candy, piñatas, and colorful decor around the backyard of the sainz home.

a few weeks before carlitos turned three, you noticed carlos being very suspicious. you would catch him in his own lies, but decided on not commenting anything. instead, you tried speaking to ana and blanca but they would just divert your concerns to something relating to carlitos, and you would always fall for the trap, because you loved everything about your son.

of course you were not knowing what was about to come when carlos had simply invited you out to dinner. carlitos had stayed with reyes and carlos sr, the couple claiming they were wanting to spend quality time with their grandson.

it was a lovely dinner with carlos, as it had been quite a while since it was you two without carlitos around. your waiter had come to receive the check, but before leaving he informed you two, "there's a live band on the other side of the restaurant if you would like to enjoy some live music." you looked at carlos, a sparkling glint in your eye. carlos chuckled, and he got up from his chair, extending out a hand for you to grab.

you both walked towards the back of the restaurant that would oversee the city of madrid. the band, who was playing soothingly, added to the nice touch where one would stare out to the beautiful city and be able to listen to a calming tune.

“corazón,” carlos said beside you. you turned to look at him, only to see his gorgeous brown eyes staring at you with admiration. you smiled, and carlos cleared his throat before glancing down at the ground. he only looked back up to the band and gave them a slight nod, before getting down on one knee. he reached for his pocket, and you quickly glanced around your surroundings to see clients of the restaurant begin to take notice of what was about to happen in front of them.

the band’s music quieted down; you were sure carlos left them the notice in advance. your lips parted in shock, as you stared down at him. “mi vida, you are the love of my life. you have given me the gift of becoming a father to our son. i love you more than words and actions can describe,” carlos paused for a moment, as he saw you beginning to release tears from the corner of your eyes. he knew you hated ruining your makeup because of crying.

when carlos opened the small box he had put into view a few moments ago and positioned it in front of him to display to you, you felt the entire world stop for this one moment.

carlos said your full name, it sounded quite unnatural since he's only ever called you loving nicknames. "i'm already the happiest man right now, but will you add to that happiness and marry me?"

you nodded your head yes immediately and grabbed both his hands, helping him stand up and leaning in to meet your lips with his. the clapping sound surrounded you both as well as cheering sounds, but you paid no mind as you had everything you've cared for right in front of you.

once separated from the loving kiss, you opened your eyes to see carlos placing the gorgeous engagement ring on your finger, and you looked up as you saw the entire family standing feet away from you two. the tears from your eyes were uncontrollable, your emotions all over the place.

carlitos, only having a few months experienced in walking, wattled over to you and carlos. carlos picked his son up, and you placed a small kiss on carlitos' hand.

the family walked towards your own, congratulating you and carlos. "you knew, didn't you?" you asked blanca and ana. they both giggled, and you shook your head laughing. this is what family was. and you were so unbelievably happy you had won the lottery in that department.

the wedding came months later. it was a beautiful reception. a few of carlos' colleagues in formula one were invited. it was a wedding in december, so you and carlos would have enough time for your honeymoon before he would be back in racing. he was given his biggest opportunity yet in formula one, being promoted to drive in mclaren by the upcoming season.

both you and carlos agreed you wanted to expand your tiny family by adding another member. and by the time carlos had begun his new formula one season, you were already confirmed to be expecting.

being a mother in waiting is not pretty. you had gone through this process once with carlitos, and going through it again one would expect for it to go smoother, but it was just as difficult. this was all motherhood, was your motivation to keep going. for you, your husband, your son and your new baby on the way.

carlitos understood many things, including the fact he was going to become a big brother. when asked if he wanted a brother or a sister, he always answered he wanted "una pequeña hermanita." (a little sister.) you had also encouraged the entire family to speak spanish to carlitos so he would be fluent in both english and spanish.

your second child arrived during a very special event in spain. dia de los muertos (day of the dead.), to be exact. carlos was not with you, as he was halfway across the world in austin, texas.

you were with carlos sr and reyes, and they both took great care of you. ana and blanca took care of carlitos while you were in the hospital. you asked both in-laws to please do not tell carlos, as you thought this could completely flood his mind and he would not do good in the race.

your second child, camilo, was delivered on the second of november. if you were not mistaken, this day was the day of qualifying for carlos. and no way in hell would you ever call him for him to go ballistic and fuck it all up. and that's how it went. carlos did not hear from any of the family for the entire weekend, and even going into the next race. you did not want to tell him over the phone his newborn son was born. you didn't think he would take it so far, but he did.

after the brazilian grand prix, carlos was going back to spain to you. he would have a week and then he would fly to abu dhabi for the final race of the season. camilo was two and a half weeks already, and looked like the carbon copy of carlos. carlitos had more of your own features, but if someone were to definitely see camilo they would immediately recognize carlos sainz jr as the father.

when carlos arrived, you were putting camilo to sleep. carlitos promised to wait for his papi in the living room of your recently purchased family home. you didn't hear when carlos arrived, so when you heard the door of your shared bedroom open and you heard your husband's voice behind you say your name, you were startled and quickly turned around, not forgetting camilo was still in your arms.

"is camilo asleep?" carlitos asked in a hushed whisper. you turned around and placed your newborn son in his crib, before placing his blankets over him, and turning on the baby monitor.

"yes, he just fell asleep." you responded to your son's question. carlos' eyes were burning your skin, and you couldn't dare to look him in the eye. you even flinched when carlos spoke, but not to you.

"campeón, why don't you go to your room, i need to speak with mamá first. and then you can show me your new balón de fútbol." you pursed your lips before carlitos turned his head to look at you for reassurance, which you gave with a small smile and nod, and seconds later carlitos left to his own room happily skipping down the hall.

once carlos was sure his son was out of hearing distance, his attention was brought back to you. "i find out by my son, as soon as i walk through the door, that you had the baby?" carlos asked cautiously. his tone was neutral, but you felt the argument begin to approach. "you didn't even call to let me know?"

you took a deep breath before answering. "i didn't want you to find out over the phone, and you weren't going to be here because of your races."

carlos let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. "i had the right to know was son was born the minute someone had a hold of a phone at that hospital." his tone was aggressive, but not loud to wake up camilo or let carlitos hear.

"i didn't want you to mess up your races because i was having the baby and you wouldn't be around," you tried explaining. if it wasn't for camilo sleeping, carlos would be yelling right now.

"no, i would be flying back because i would want to see my wife and be there for her and for our new child!" carlos began whisper-yelling as he motioned to the sleeping baby behind you.

"i'm--i'm sorry, carlos. i thought i was doing what was best for you--" you were cut off by carlos' following words. "how do you know what's best for me? what's best was, knowing i had a son the second he arrived. i would have come back, and taken care of you and our sons. where the hell did you leave carlitos in all of this?" he asked, his face turning red from the anger he was projecting.

"he stayed with your sisters." you whispered, looking down. carlos nodded his head slowly before scoffing again. "when i could've been there!" he countered. you looked up to meet his gaze. "okay, but it happened! it's over, we can't erase time."

carlos stayed quite for a few moments, as if thinking his thoughts through. the argument was immature; of course on some parts you were wrong by not letting carlos know immediately, but carlos immediately went to argue instead of seeing his newborn baby for the first time.

carlos walked over to you and looked down at the sleeping child. you stared at the small interaction between both father and son, as carlos slowly gave camilo his pointer finger, to which the child, even sleeping, gripped the finger.

"he looks just like you," you whispered, staring between your husband and son. the corner of carlos' lips turned upwards, non-verbally agreeing with your statement.

"i'm sorry for the argument," carlos whispered, as he began carefully caressing camilo's head, which surprisingly had already a lot of hair.

"i should be the one apologizing. i wasn't thinking about anyone but myself in the moment." you muttered. camilo's grip on carlos' finger loosened, and he stepped back from the crib to embrace you into his arms. you hugged back tightly, in the end happy your husband was back with you to complete your growing family.

when the worldwide pandemic came about in the beginning of 2020, you were worried for carlos. worried how exposed he was to the sickness. that was until, the formula one season would be postponed until further notice. therefore, carlos went back to spain and although he was still staying in shape and training for when the season would resume, he also took this time to cherish the family bonding with his wife and two sons.

there were small moments, whether it would be playing fútbol with carlitos, both father and son teaching baby camilo how to play, but a baby can only watch. in carlitos' words, "when camilo is older we can team up and score the goals." you would be cooking, feeding your family, having movie nights, or even sometimes when the children would go to sleep early, you and carlos would cook a dinner for the both of you. it was these moments that made you cherish life.

in may, carlos was in talks with a new formula one team seeking him. carlos had accepted the deal, and it was a family celebration when he announced he would be driving for the scarlet red team next season, scuderia ferrari.

however, because of this, another person joined your family. and not in the way you thought. no, carlos' best friend, lando norris. you had not interacted much with the brit, but he seemed like a very funny guy based on interviews and crazy stories your husband would mention.

what lando norris decided, was that he would stay in your house for about a month before he would depart from his 'best mate.' staying as a house guest would later come to mean having another child and baby-ing him. the stay turned to two months, as lando also stayed to celebrate christmas, before he departed to his family for new years. lando meeting carlitos and camilo was wholesome, the brit would teach carlitos about golf, while camilo --who had began walking when he turned a year old-- would waddle the golf balls back to lando and carlitos, as this was his own way of playing with the two.

by the end of lando's stay, he was exclusively "uncle" or "tio lando" to carlitos. and lando spoiled the hell out of carlitos and camilo for christmas.

the 2021 formula one season brought many changes, one including carlos finally convinced you to attend a race. carlitos was not on your side either, as he has wanted to see his papa driving fast cars. it was three against one (as when camilo was also asked if he wanted to attend a race with carros, he would smile and laugh, which father and son took as a yes). you flew to bahrain with carlos and your two sons, and were actually entertained by everything going on in the paddock. carlos' new teammate, charles leclerc, was in awe of your children. carlos never talked about having a wife or even children, so your family entrance definitely turned heads from all around. you spent most of your time with your children, and sometimes accompanied by charles leclerc's girlfriend, charlotte, who also adored your children from the moment she saw them. your little family was cheering on for carlos in red the entire weekend.

however, as the year went by, you felt a shift. of course, family bonding was still there. you tried to hide it, but you felt a change when you were with your husband. sometimes you shrugged off the feeling, not wanting to think too much about it, but you knew. even if it wasn't spoken, your love for carlos had diminished. you almost felt empty inside at times, and maybe you blamed it on how back to back you had children and now that they're growing you just feel the nostalgia. this is what led you to ask your husband in the middle of the night the question.

"do you want to have another baby?"

carlos had turned his head toward you, staring deeply into your eyes. he held the eye contact for a few moments before responding. "i think we are perfectly well with carlitos and camilo, don't you think?"

"but wouldn't you like another one, carlitos keeps asking for a sister," you chuckled. "and our family will be complete."

"our family's already complete," carlos stated in a tone that projected, the conversation's over.

you nodded with a smile that didn't reach your eyes, before kissing his cheek and bidding goodnight. you turned on your side and closed your eyes, not another word spoken for the night. nights where you two would stay up until the next morning, whether it be to feed or change diapers, lay tangled in each other's arms, or just talk nonsense, too delirious to understand what the other would be speaking about. those nights were now a kiss goodnight, or just laying by each other and not speaking a word at all until you two would fall asleep, centimeters separating you both.

attending the grand prix's became a more regular thing, your boys always happy to be following their father, and you always cheering on your husband.

because carlos' good friend, max verstappen, had won his first world championship, he invited you both to celebrate. that night, both you and carlos had too much to drink, and weren't thinking of your decisions.

a month later, you're pregnant again.

carlos said he did not want another child, but what did you want? it was an innocent child's life, one who didn't even have an opportunity to see and experience the world.

you decided on telling carlos over dinner (the good thing is that tradition hasn't ended yet), and you were terrified to see his reaction.

"when did you find out?" carlos asked, taking a sip of his wine. "earlier this morning, i went to the doctor." you answered, trying to rub the sweat off your palms on your pants. "she said i was a month in."

of course, the night of max's celebration. that's the most recent time you have had sex, and before that it had been almost eight.

"i know you said you didn't want another baby, but carlos--" you were cut off by your husband slightly slamming his hands on the table, making you flinch. "you're pregnant, and now we move on with the pregnancy until the baby is born." he got up from the table and grabbed empty plates and silverware before taking them to the washing sink.

"goodnigtht." carlos said before departing to your shared bedroom. you stayed still in your seat, processing what you heard. one thing you were sure of, this baby was not wanted by its father.

the news was later given to your sons that they would become big brothers soon. carlitos jumped up and down in excitement, while camilo, still learning to understand words, only smiled widely.

nine months later, and you had a baby girl. carlos, someway between seven and eight months into the pregnancy, was deciding on girl names. you had chipped in that you wanted a 'c' name, as both your sons had one, so it would be neat if your daughter also had one. after much thought and debating, you both settled for carla. carlos sr and reyes helped calm the debate.

luckily, carlos was home for carla's birth. carlitos and camilo were with their grandparents, but carlitos had insisted he wanted to see his little sister before anyone.

when you and carlos arrived with carla back home, carlitos immediately wanted to hold her, while camilo was staring at her like she was an alien.

over time, carlos and you continued to try to make the family functional. but it started crumbling down, and you knew it was a matter of time.

your daughter was more difficult than how carlitos and camilo had been, so at some instances in the middle of the night carlos would get up from the bed while you were feeding carla and go sleep in the guest bedroom.

you took carla to the paddock earlier in age than you did with your sons. carlos insisted you accompany him, and to bring the entire family. you didn't want to, as carla was still small. but carlos begged and insisted.

the beginning of the 2023 year did not go as you thought it would. you tried hard, you really did, to keep your family in one stand. but carlos wasn't helping.

you tried showing you were a happy family to your children, because you did not want them to go through what you did. which is what made your parents divorce and leave you in the middle of it. you did not want that for your family.

your routine was now: wake up, feed the kids, do chores, feed the kids again, maybe go visit reyes and carlos sr, and if carlos was home take the kids to play, go to sleep. no more traditions, no more nothing.

you weren't happy anymore. you saw carlos wasn't either. it was just routine at this point.

when carlos got the call he was no longer driving at ferrari, he isolated himself. he didn't speak to you, he ignored the children, even his parents. you would be folding laundry and he'd come out of the guest room (which was now declared his) to see if there was food. you would just start cooking after you finished laundry, but he wasn't patient.

"the food isn't ready?!" he would ask agitated. you swallowed hard, not wanting to cry and seem weak. "i'll get started on it in a bit, let me just finish folding these clothes and--"

you would stop speaking because he would grab a jacket and the car keys, and leave without another word. carlitos would be the one to come out of his room, and ask if you were okay.

"yes, i am. dad just went for a pizza." you smiled. carlitos would jump in delight, before running to tell his siblings in the other room. you would grab your phone and order pizza delivery.

2024 was the year you were just exhausted. and the last turning point was after carla's second birthday party. you had both agreed to celebrate her birthday a week before, as carlos would be in baku for a race weekend on her actual day.

the whole day, carlos didn't show up. he didn't show up to his daughter's birthday at all. when you called numerous times, it would send to voicemail. you asked ana and blanca, even his parents, to contact him. it was carlos sr who he answered to. he was training, not even knowing his daughter was waiting for him.

when carlos arrived home well after the party had ended, you didn't direct a word to him.

carlos called out your name. "look, i'm sorry, okay?" you stopped washing the dishes and scoffed looking his way.

"you are apologizing to me? it's your daughter you dissapointed!" you yelled. you knew the children would hear, but that wasn't your current thought process at the moment.

"and i'm just, i'm sick of it all! i'm sick of excuses, i'm sick of you pushing me away, i'm sick of not being good enough for anything anymore!" you aggressively wiped your hands on a towel, before wiping your tear-filled eyes.

"what do you want me to do? be happy when i'm clearly not? fake a happy family when it's far from that?" the last statement was like a puncture to your breaking heart.

all you wanted, was a happy and loving family. you had it for a while, but now that was over. and maybe if you wanted to continue being happy, you had to step away this time.

"i can't be with you anymore." you spit out. carlos widened his eyes, your statement hitting him like a rock. "what?" he managed to blurt out.

"i can't pretend to be a happy family anymore. i won't."

your lawyer grabbed your arm lightly. "hey, are you okay?" he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. you blinked and nodded your head.

the judge had decided both you and carlos would share custody of your children. two weeks, they would be with you, the other two carlos would have them. you and carlos would still interact and would need to have 'family bonding' once every month with the children. carla would be the only exception, as until she is five years old she would be able to stay with carlos.

it would be hard learning outside a life you had always known, but you had your children to motivate you. you had supporters, who at the end of the day were your family.

it was a sad, beautiful, tragic love story. one you learned, cried, and were both happy and sad in.

author's note: OH MY GOSH. anyways hope y'all like it mwah. as inspo i was listening to sad beautiful tragic, all too well, tolerate it, and you're not sorry. i definitely prefer smau better than written fics, so expect more of those soonnnn

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr #scuderia ferrari #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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soleilpinto · 3 months ago

Text

DRS = Defining Relationship Status?: Love in the Last Corner °‧🫐𐙚⭒

“Defining Relationship Status Zone” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Synopsis: Motorsport fan and model, Y/n, and her thirst-filled tweets about Franco catch his attention, sparking a hilarious online banter that goes viral. As their playful exchanges become real connections, fans and media can’t get enough—will their chemistry survive offline?

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slowburn, (Slight) Angst

AU: Social Media AU!

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Note: I can’t believe we’re finally at the final part of this series, it’s been a wild time writing this fic 😭 Don’t worry though, I’ll have another smau coming out soon so you guys won’t get bored. Thank you guys so much again for the huge amount of love on the series, even if it is my first one on this account. Love you all!

DRS Masterlist. (PREV./NEXT.)

@williamzracing so y/n's been radio silent about franco for weeks... but now she’s in qatar and hanging out with lando? 👀 something’s up

@oversteerqueen y/n showing up in the mclaren garage with lando like she didn’t spend the entire season thirsting over franco... the AUDACITY

@chequeredflirt i’m calling it now: y/n and franco are done, and lando is moving in for the win (and i’m not talking about the constructors) 😂

@chicanechatter imagine being franco and seeing y/n with lando in qatar. the silence is deafening.

@formulafrenzyy this lando and y/n thing better be pr because I’m not emotionally ready for a breakup AND a new ship all at once

The McLaren garage buzzed with energy as checks were being made before the first free practice session.

You stood off to the side, leaning casually against a wall, chatting with Lando. His easy humor had you laughing, your shoulders relaxing despite the chaos of the paddock around you.

“You know,” Lando teased, crossing his arms with a sly grin, “if you’re going to hang around the McLaren garage this much, we might as well get you some team gear. You’d look good in papaya.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “I don’t know, Lando. Orange might not be my color.”

“It’s papaya,” Lando corrected with mock seriousness, making you laugh again.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention, and before you could turn fully, you felt it—Franco’s presence. He was walking past, his gaze locked on you and Lando, his jaw tight and his eyes unreadable.

You tensed involuntarily, your laughter dying down as your eyes met his for the briefest of moments.

Lando noticed the change in your demeanor and followed your gaze, his expression shifting.

“Speak of the devil,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

Franco slowed his stride as if debating something, and then, to your surprise, he pivoted on his heel and walked straight toward you. Your stomach flipped.

This wasn’t like him.

“Can we talk?” Franco’s voice was steady, but there was a sharp edge to it as he glanced between you and Lando.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

“Yes. Now.” Franco’s tone left no room for argument.

Lando raised an eyebrow, stepping back slightly but still hovering close enough to observe.

“Well, I think that’s my cue to check on the car,” he said, shooting you a quick look as if to say good luck.

“Thanks, Lando,” you muttered, your voice tight as he walked off, leaving you alone with Franco.

You crossed your arms, looking up at him. “What’s this about?”

Franco’s expression softened for a moment before hardening again, as if he were fighting some internal battle.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said bluntly.

You frowned. “Do what?”

“This... pretending like I don’t care,” he admitted, his voice low but intense.

“I saw you laughing with Lando, and I couldn’t just walk away this time. I’m tired of avoiding this, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched at the sudden vulnerability in his tone, your heart pounding as you tried to process his words.

“Avoiding what?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Franco’s eyes searched yours, and for the first time in weeks, the tension between you felt less like a wall and more like a thread ready to snap.

“You,” he said simply. “Us.”

Your heart felt like it had stopped altogether, and the world around you faded into the background. But before you could find the words to respond, Franco shook his head slightly, as if trying to steady himself.

“I just... I needed to say it,” he muttered. “I couldn’t let it go unsaid anymore.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there in the middle of the McLaren garage, your thoughts spinning faster than the engines roaring in the background.

liked by lettiemng, gabyprentice_ and others

ynbardot doha dump (day one)

lilymhe always so gorgeous

— ynbardot when YOU exist omg lily 😭

iamrebeccad 😍

— ynbardot 😚

The hotel room was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional sound of Elena scrolling on her phone.

You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the room service tray you’d barely touched, replaying the events from the McLaren garage over and over in your mind.

Elena finally looked up, noticing the faraway expression on your face.

“Alright, spill,” she said, setting her phone down and crossing her legs. “What’s got you looking like you’ve seen a ghost?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Franco came up to me today. In the McLaren garage.”

Elena’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“What? He actually said something for once? And here I thought the boy had forgotten how to talk.”

You managed a small, bitter laugh. “Yeah, he finally talked. He said he couldn’t pretend he didn’t care anymore.”

“Wait… what exactly did he say?” Her expression shifted, softening with curiosity.

You hesitated, trying to recall the exact words without letting your emotions twist them.

“He said he was tired of avoiding it. That he couldn’t just walk away this time. And then he said… he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t care.”

Elena stared at you, her lips parted in shock. “Wow,” she finally said, leaning back against the headboard.

“That’s big. That’s really big.”

“Is it, though?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I still don’t understand why he’s been so cold lately. Why he let things get so bad between us. I don’t even know if I believe him, Elena. It’s like… it’s like he’s just now realizing I exist.”

Elena frowned, tilting her head as she studied you.

“You’re hurt,” she said softly.

“Of course I am,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly.

“This whole thing has been a mess. He was fine keeping his distance for weeks, acting like nothing happened, and now he decides to come up to me and say all this? I don’t know how to feel.”

Elena reached over, placing a hand on your arm.

“Y/N, I get it. But listen to me—Franco’s been in his head about you for a while now. Probably longer than he even realizes.”

“What are you talking about?” You looked at her skeptically.

She shrugged, her tone matter-of-fact.

“He’s been acting this way ever since Vegas. I mean, the guy practically spiraled when he saw you and Lando hanging out. Do you really think he didn’t know what he was feeling back then? He’s just been too stubborn—or scared—to admit it.”

Your heart clenched at her words, the memory of Vegas flooding back. Franco’s sharp glares, his tense expression, the way he seemed on edge every time Lando was around.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“Because it wasn’t my place to meddle,” Elena said gently.

“He had to figure it out on his own, and it looks like he finally has. I’m just saying—maybe don’t write him off completely just yet.”

You sighed, burying your face in your hands.

“I don’t know, Elena. It’s not that simple. I’m still hurt. I still don’t trust him not to run away again.”

“And that’s fair,” she said, her voice firm but understanding. “But if he’s finally stepping up, don’t shut him out without hearing him out first. You deserve answers, Y/N. You deserve to know how he really feels.”

You leaned back against the pillows, your mind swirling with doubt and confusion. “What if it’s too late?” you asked softly.

Elena gave you a small smile, her tone reassuring. “If it’s real, it’s never too late. But you have to decide if you’re willing to find out.”

You closed your eyes, her words settling over you like a weight.

Part of you wanted to keep your walls up, to protect yourself from further hurt. But another part—a smaller, quieter part—couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Franco was finally ready to let you in.

The next afternoon, the buzz of activity in the McLaren garage was a welcome distraction. Engineers hurried around, adjusting setups, while mechanics prepped Lando’s car for the third free practice session.

You were perched on a stool by one of the monitors, sipping on a water bottle as Elena scrolled through her phone beside you.

Lando strolled over, helmet tucked under his arm, his signature grin plastered on his face. “Enjoying the chaos?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter.

You laughed softly. “It’s actually kind of relaxing. Well, compared to my brain lately.”

Elena shot you a knowing look, but said nothing, letting Lando take the bait.

“Oh?” Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s going on in that overthinking head of yours?”

You hesitated, glancing at Elena, who nodded encouragingly.

“It’s… about Franco,” you finally admitted.

Lando set his helmet down, folding his arms as he leaned in closer.

“Alright, now I’m invested. What did he do this time?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Remember how he came up to me yesterday? Before free practice. He said he couldn’t pretend he didn’t care anymore.”

Lando blinked, clearly surprised. “Wow. That’s… actually huge for him. But I’m guessing there’s more to the story.”

“Of course there is,” you said with a dry laugh.

“I just… I don’t know what to do, Lando. Part of me wants to hear him out, but the other part is still so angry and hurt. He’s been so distant for weeks, and now suddenly he wants to talk?”

Lando nodded thoughtfully, his expression unusually serious.

“Look, I’m not gonna pretend I know Franco super well, but from what I’ve seen? He’s not the kind of guy who puts himself out there unless he means it.”

“That’s what Elena said,” you muttered, glancing at your friend, who gave you an encouraging smile.

Lando shrugged, his tone casual but sincere.

“Then maybe Elena’s onto something. I get that you’re hurt, and you have every right to be. But if he’s finally stepping up, don’t you think it’s worth at least hearing him out?”

You bit your lip, his words sinking in. “What if he’s just going to hurt me again?”

“Then you’ll have every right to tell him to shove it. But at least you’ll know you gave him the chance to explain himself. Better than sitting here wondering what could’ve been, right?” Lando reached out, gently poking your shoulder.

Before you could respond, Oscar called for Lando, signaling it was time for him to suit up. He grabbed his helmet, flashing you a quick grin.

“Think about it, yeah? I’ve gotta go be a superstar now.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling as he walked off toward his car. Elena nudged your arm, her expression teasing.

“He’s got a point, you know,” she said.

You exhaled deeply, watching as Lando climbed into his car, the hum of the engine roaring to life. Maybe it was time to stop running from this and face whatever was waiting for you.

The podium celebrations had ended, and the Qatar Grand Prix winners were back in the paddock, mingling with team members and a few drivers who had stayed behind to offer their congratulations.

The desert night was cool, but the buzz of the race still lingered in the air.

You stood nearby with Elena, chatting casually with Lando and Oscar, both still riding the adrenaline high from their stellar performances that weekend.

“Not a bad day at the office, huh?” you said to Lando, who was leaning against a table, his trademark grin on full display.

“Not bad at all,” he replied, his tone playful. “But now, it’s all about getting some rest before Abu Dhabi. That’s where the real fun is.”

Oscar chuckled, his demeanor calm as always. “Yeah, if we don’t wake up late that is. Speaking of, we should probably head out soon.”

“Agreed,” Lando added, pushing himself upright. “Gotta make sure we’re fresh for the finale.” He glanced at you and Elena. “You two are heading to Abu Dhabi later, right?”

You nodded. “We’re on the early morning flight. Guess we’ll see you there.”

“Perfect,” Lando said with a wink. “Abu Dhabi’s gonna be a party.”

The sun casts a golden glow over Abu Dhabi, illuminating the city’s gleaming architecture and turquoise waters.

You wandered through the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque with Elena, Jade, and Alex by your side, the four of you taking in the breathtaking beauty of the place. Tourists moved around you, their whispers blending into the serene atmosphere.

Elena nudged your side as you adjusted your scarf. “You’ve been quiet all morning. Still thinking about Franco?”

“What do you think?” You shot her a look, but the slight heat in your cheeks gave you away.

“I think you’re pretending to enjoy the scenery, but all you can think about is how he looked at you back in Vegas—and maybe what he said yesterday.” She smirked knowingly.

You sighed, brushing your fingers over the marble pillars. “It’s just… I don’t know what to do. He seemed so genuine, but it’s hard to forget how much he hurt me. And this is supposed to be his weekend. His last race in F1. I don’t want to distract him.”

Elena stopped walking and turned to face you, her expression soft yet serious.

“Y/N, you’re not a distraction. You’re the one thing he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. Don’t you see it? He’s been aware of his feelings for you since Vegas, and the fact that he finally admitted them says a lot.”

You crossed your arms, feeling the weight of her words. “What if I can’t trust him again? What if I just get hurt all over?”

Elena reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm.

“That’s a risk, yeah. But what if this time, he’s ready to prove himself to you? You’ve always been good at reading people, Y/N. Trust your gut.”

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw Franco’s name flashing on the screen. Your heart skipped a beat, and Elena raised an eyebrow.

“Speaking of,” she said with a teasing grin.

You hesitated before answering, your voice coming out softer than you intended.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Franco’s voice was steady, but there was an undertone of nervousness. “I heard you’re out exploring the city. Do you have a minute? There’s something I want to show you.”

Elena gave you an encouraging nod, mouthing, Go.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, your pulse quickening. “Where are you?”

“Corniche Beach,” he replied. “I’ll send you the location.”

After hanging up, you turned to Elena, who was already grinning. “Go,” she urged. “I’ll be fine. Take the chance, Y/N.”

You gave her a hesitant smile before walking toward the exit. As you stepped into the warm Abu Dhabi air, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the moment where things between you and Franco would finally find clarity—or fall apart completely.

The sun dipped low over Corniche Beach, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose.

The gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore was a stark contrast to the whirlwind in your chest as you spotted Franco waiting by the railing. He was dressed casually, his hands shoved into his pockets, but the look on his face was anything but relaxed.

He straightened up when he saw you approach, his lips curving into a tentative smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied, stopping a few feet away.

The cool evening breeze swept through your hair, and you crossed your arms, unsure of how to start. “You wanted to see me?”

Franco nodded, exhaling deeply before gesturing toward the beach.

“Yeah, I thought this would be a good place to talk. It’s quieter.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Talk about what?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting yours again. “Us.”

The word hung in the air between you, heavy and loaded. You swallowed hard, trying to steel yourself.

“What about us, Franco?”

He stepped closer, his expression serious yet vulnerable.

“I’ve been a complete idiot. I know that. I messed everything up in Vegas, and then I made it worse by not talking to you. I let my own fear ruin everything. But… I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you. Because I do. I care so much it scares me.”

Your breath hitched, his words cutting through the layers of doubt and hurt that had built up over the past few weeks.

“Franco, you can’t just say that after everything,” you said, your voice wavering. “You hurt me. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been?”

“I know,” he said, his voice low and laced with regret. “I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I need you to know that it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It was because I cared too much, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. But all you saw was raw honesty, his dark eyes pleading with you to believe him.

“I kept telling myself this was fake, that it didn’t mean anything,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “But it wasn’t fake for me. Not then, and definitely not now.”

The weight of his confession settled over you, leaving you momentarily speechless. When you finally found your voice, it was soft but steady.

“Franco, I don’t want to be someone you’re unsure about. I don’t want to be second-guessing where I stand with you.”

“You’re not,” he said firmly, taking another step closer. “You’re not second to anything, Y/N. You’re everything. And I’m done running from it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the walls you’d built around it starting to crack.

“Franco, if I give this a chance—if I give you a chance—you have to promise me something.”

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Be honest with me,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “No more mixed signals, no more hiding. If you’re all in, I need to know.”

He nodded, reaching for your hands. His touch was warm, grounding you as he looked into your eyes with an intensity that made your knees weak.

“I’m all in,” he said softly. “I’m not letting fear get in the way again.”

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the sound of the waves and the distant hum of the city becoming background noise. Then, slowly, you nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Let’s do this.”

A smile broke across his face, and before you could say another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You leaned into him, the weight of the past weeks lifting as the warmth of his embrace wrapped around you.

When he finally pulled back, his grin was boyish, full of relief and happiness. “You won’t regret this,” he promised.

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension in your chest finally easing. “You better not make me.”

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach, you felt something you hadn’t in weeks—hope.

liked by francolapinto, alexandrasaintmleux and others

ynbardot headstart in abu dhabi

elenavalor omg she finally did it 😭

— ynbardot i love you 🥹

francisca.cgomes 🥹🫶

@gridgossips not y/n soft launching franco on her feed and him immediately liking it. y’all… we’re so back. 😭

@lightsoutndaway y/n subtly dropping franco in her post and he’s out here liking it like they didn’t just have the messiest fallout? this is PEAK f1 drama

@tifosiqueen that photo of franco and y/n in her post was so soft. are they finally on good terms or are we entering relationship announcement territory? 👀✨

@pitlaneinsider not me seeing y/n and franco walking together at the paddock entrance…i thought they weren’t on speaking terms? 🧐

@colapintcentral the fact that y/n and franco are literally together at yas marina right now after WEEKS of silence has me going insane. someone explain the timeline 🥲

The roar of the crowd at Yas Marina fades into a low hum as you make your way to the paddock after the race.

The air feels thick with tension, and the pit crews are busy packing up, but all you can focus on is Franco.

You had seen him in the cockpit, his car fighting for position before that unfortunate technical issue, and now you know he's out of the race.

He didn't finish.

You walk through the garage, your heart sinking a little with every step until you spot him by his team's pit wall.

Franco's shoulders are slumped, and his gaze is fixed on the ground. He doesn’t see you at first, too caught up in the frustration of yet another DNF.

“Franco,” you call softly, and his head snaps up.

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, and for a moment, you almost regret the words that follow. “Are you okay?”

He exhales sharply, his usual confident demeanor now worn down by the race.

“I’ll live,” he says with a tight smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m just... tired since it’s already the last race. Feels like I’m always on the edge, always close, but never quite there.”

You walk closer, carefully avoiding the space around him that feels like he’s trying to keep himself distant.

“You know, you're still one of the best out there,” you say, your voice soothing despite the ache in your chest. “None of this was your fault.”

Franco lets out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I’m not worried about that. It’s more... everything else. The pressure. The expectations. And... well,” he pauses, glancing at you through his lashes, “this.”

You swallow, trying not to let the weight of his words pull you under. “You don’t have to keep pretending with me, you know,” you murmur, stepping closer so there’s no space between the two of you.

You’re quiet for a beat, your heart hammering in your chest as his words echo in your head. It’s strange.

It’s been so easy to let things go, to keep pretending for the cameras, for the fans. But now, it feels different.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” you say, voice shaking slightly, but your eyes never leave his. “I don’t know if this is just a phase, or if we’re making something out of nothing.”

Franco steps a little closer, his hand brushing against yours.

“We take it one step at a time. No pressure. Just... let’s see where the world takes us, yeah?”

You nod, a small but relieved smile tugging at your lips. It’s not perfect. It’s not figured out.

But for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe you’ve taken a step toward something real—something you weren’t sure you’d get.

88 notes · View notes

senditcolton · 2 months ago

Text

Fire, Meet Gasoline

gasoline, pretty please, I wanna get off but you're such a tease..

summary: every time she stepped onto the motorcycle race track, Daphne Martin faced potential disaster. and yet, she was still able to ride. but when she is threatened with the possible destruction of two relationships she holds dear - her friendship with Jesse Compher and her tryst with Jesse's brother JT - will she be able to push through her fear. or will it all go up in flames? song inspo: reckless driving by Lizzy McAlpine word count: 10.9k warnings: forbidden romance [best friend's brother], alcohol mention, smut [fingering, oral - f receiving, unprotected penetration], and marijuana use. for Demi's (@wyattjohnston) Winter Fic Exchange to C (@comphy-and-cozy) - finally - with love

The can of beer in Daphne Martin’s hand was now lukewarm – a combination of time coupled with the fact she brought it into her shower. But she had needed both.

Her short, buzzed hair was no longer plastered to her skull from the sweat that gathered under her helmet. The lingering smell of burnt rubber that she always brought back home was no longer on her skin. And the two cans of beer dulled the ache in her shoulders and legs from where they hit the asphalt earlier that day.

First race of the season. And she failed. Spectacularly.

Her bike went flying. So had her body. And even though it was only one race in a season of twenty-two, it felt like her credibility crashed as soon as she did.

The first woman to climb the ranks of motorcycle racing, crashing out on the final lap. She bailed after an attempt to pass and now, all people would talk about is how she didn’t belong.

It didn’t matter that it happened between her and the racer in second. It didn’t matter that there was a significant gap between her and the next closest driver. Her failure was ‘proof’ to sexist fans, racers, teams, management – all of them – that she didn’t fit in the world of motorsports.

She had been hearing those whispers since she started. Most days, she could ignore them. But today…

So, yeah, she needed the shower. And the beers. And JT.

Her phone buzzes on the kitchen island, a text bubble popping up on the screen.

Almost there.

Speak of the devil.

The decision to call JT Compher was just as reckless as the decision to drink after a crash. If she was being honest, her tryst with JT had been a careless choice from the start. She should’ve thrown away the hastily scribbled number that he left on a scrap of packing paper six months ago; the morning he had shown up on her doorstep to help her move in.

Hell, she probably shouldn’t even had let him in her apartment. But perhaps the shock of her bar bathroom hookup from the night before turning out to be Jesse’s brother made all rational thought fly from her brain.

That was an excuse that she used when she thought back on that day. As for why she had kept his number and ended up calling it on a semi-regular basis for nights like these… she had no excuse.

Except the fact that JT Compher was amazing in bed.

There probably should’ve been some guilt in her chest about keeping this… relationship with JT from her best friend. But there wasn’t. Or, at least, Daphne didn’t think she had to face it. Jesse was still in Toronto, 372 kilometers away. There was no way that she would find out what her brother and Daphne were doing, barring a surprise appearance at one of their apartments while they were together.

However, that risk did still exist. Daphne was well aware that one wrong misstep could cause her to lose the friendship she shared with Jesse as well as JT. But as long as this was kept a secret, she was safe.

That was the compromise. This way, Daphne got to keep them both.

The knock on the door breaks her out of her reverie, her body unfurling from the sofa as she pads towards the front door. Her almost empty beer can is abandoned on the kitchen island before she unlocks the deadbolt, swinging the door open to find JT.

There is a brief pause as the two of them look at each other. Daphne can see JT’s dark brown eyes trace her face before darting down to glide over her body, the bruises and friction burns on her bare arms and legs plain to see.

“It could’ve been worse,” she says, simultaneously confirming and quieting his concern and Daphne notices the subtle relaxation of JT’s shoulders. But when his eyes lift to connect with hers again, a new expression flits across his face. One of understanding, most likely brought on by the heaviness shining in her own eyes.

“JT,” she whispers, the words quivering with a quiet plea.

The sound of his name is enough to make JT step forward into her apartment, taking her in his arms and kissing her. There is no stopping the sigh that escapes Daphne’s lips, her entire body melting into his hold.

This is why she kept calling JT when she knows she shouldn’t. No one else could make her mind empty with just a kiss. And that’s what she needed right now.

Daphne faintly hears the front door close; JT must’ve kicked it shut because his hands were still on her hips and his lips were attached to hers. He presses her body deeper into the apartment, manipulating her to his whim. And she lets him.

She feels the edge of the marble countertop dig into the small of her back, the sensation startling her enough to break the kiss. Her own brown eyes connect to JT, his own face desperate and she can feel his hands tighten around her hips. The silent implication of what he wanted is all she needs to plant her own hands on the island, helping him lift her onto the marble, even though her shoulders ache in protest.

The pain is immediately silenced by JT’s body slotting between her now outspread thighs, his lips reattaching to hers. Another sigh falls from her, this time unmuffled as JT’s kisses trail from her mouth to cross her jawline. His path forces her head to loll to the side, exposing her neck to his onslaught.

She can’t stop the way her hips roll towards him as he gently sucks a hickey into her pale skin, desperate and needy. The sensation of his calloused hands against the bare skin of her legs is sinful, as is the way his hands climb higher, dipping under the hem of her oversized shirt. JT’s hands glide higher underneath the fabric, over the ridges and dips of her hips, waist, and ribs. He traces every curve deliberately as if she was a racetrack that he needed to memorize.

Daphne’s own hands scramble across his shoulders, relishing the feeling of his muscles moving beneath his cotton t-shirt, tugging at the fabric in a silent request. JT complies, pulling away from her before tugging the material over his head. Her eyes rake down, never tiring of the sight of him. JT lets her before his hands return to her body, this time removing her own shirt, leaving her perched naked on the countertop, except for a pair of underwear on her form.

Normally, the way JT’s eyes appraise her exposed skin makes a heat pool in her lower abdomen, his carnal desire always on full display. But when his eyes zero in on her torso, another flash of concern appears in his eyes instead of the usual hunger, Daphne knows the cause:

The bruises mottling her torso.

“I’m fine,” she says, her voice calling JT’s attention back to her.

“Are you?”

Daphne can hear the weight of the words and part of her knows that he is not just asking about the physical pain. It’s like he can see her completely. He didn’t just strip her of her clothes – it feels like he’s stripped her down to her soul and can see the deep-seated hurt lingering within her. How he can do that, Daphne doesn’t know. She doesn’t really want to find out.

It’s too intimate. It’s too close. It’s too dangerous.

She should make him leave. She shouldn’t entertain this anymore. JT was fire and she was gasoline. She knew that he would be her destruction. But at the same time, she wanted him. Desperately.

“I just need you,” she whispers, a sliver of truth falling from her lips. She can see the soft smile appear on JT’s lips as he steps forward again, his hands guiding her legs to wrap around his waist.

“You have me,” JT murmurs, his voice dripping with emotion before he kisses her again. His head once again ducks down, only this time, his lips move against the soft skin of Daphne’s decolletage before wrapping around one of her nipples. Daphne’s body leans back, her shoulder blades connecting with the marble. The contrasting sensations of the cool stone and JT’s hot mouth creates a rush of arousal.

“JT, please,” she whines, fingers brushing his ginger hair away from his forehead, her words emphasized with another roll of her hips. She can see those dark eyes dart up to hers, tongue never ceasing its movements against her chest. One of his hands however, glides over her hip and down her leg. A sigh of relief falls at the sensation of JT’s touch, dipping inward and tracing up her thigh, moving closer and closer to her molten center.

The mutual moans bounce around the space when JT’s fingers hook around the cotton of her panties, pulling it to the side before they slide over the slickness of her folds, no longer obstructed by the fabric.

“You really need it, don’t you sweetheart?” JT murmurs against her skin as he continues to stroke her pussy, more and more of her essence coating his skin. “That desperate, huh?”

Daphne’s only reply is a sharp moan as one of his fingers dips inside of her. The curl of his lips against her skin makes her more needy, her hips rolling as a silent plea for him to continue. JT doesn’t tease, wasting no time before sliding another into her heat, his hand almost covering her core. Daphne grinds her hips against him, her clit catching against the rough skin on the heel of his palm, making shivers run down her spine.

“That’s it. Take what you need,” JT mutters before his lips wrap around her other nipple, teasing the flesh into a stiff peak. His encouragement is all Daphne needs, her body desperately chasing that impending orgasm that she can feel coiling in her stomach.

When JT’s teeth gently scrape over her pebbled skin, the spring snaps, the warmth of her release rushing through her and her body stills. She can feel the vibration of his moan against her chest; a reaction to her trembling body as the high ebbs, her breathing returning to a steady pace as he removes his hand from the apex of her thighs.

JT finally lifts himself up to stand over Daphne splayed out on the countertop. Her eyes take in the sight of his normally plush lips now even more pink from his previous ministrations. His own darkened eyes glance down at her body, surely admiring his handiwork: her cunt exposed, tits slick with his spit, her neck and collarbones littered with the bruises that he had left instead of those made by the pavement.

JT’s hands move up her body, sneaking under her arched back to pull her up into another kiss. She holds onto him, practically clinging to his frame before their lips separate and Daphne voices the only thought bouncing around her mind.

“More.”

A wicked grin appears on JT’s face, all too willing to grant her request. He guides her body back down, hands dropping again, twisting in the waistband of her underwear. This time, he pulls the material down, sliding it over her legs before crudely discarding it somewhere in the room. The sensation of the cool apartment air hitting her core causes Daphne’s legs to instinctively close, JT’s body no longer between them. However, their path is stopped by JT’s hands instantaneously pulling her thighs back open, his fingers digging into the supple flesh.

Another gasp turned sigh escapes Daphne’s chest as JT’s lips reattach to her body, trailing across her collarbones and down. She thinks he must feel her heart beating against her ribcage as he places soft kisses in the valley between her breasts before descending even lower.

The feeling of his lips pressing against her inner thighs is both delectable and yet, still not enough to satiate the hunger thrumming through her body.

“Please,” she whines, her hips moving to coax him to the place she needed him most until JT’s lips finally connect with her soaked core.

A moan rumbles from him at the taste of her, the vibrations causing a similar moan to fall from Daphne. His mouth moves against her, his tongue tracing her folds and there is no stopping the curses that fall from her lips.

When JT’s lips close around her clit, Daphne’s entire body shudders, the muscles in her legs desperate to close around his head; which they would have if it weren’t for his strong hands holding her open.

“So fucking sweet, darling,” JT mutters before reattaching his mouth to her core. After having her in his bed multiple times, it doesn’t take long for JT remember what makes her writhe and gush, alternating between quick flicks of his tongue and gentle suction of his lips. But when his mouth dips down, his tongue plunging inside her, there is no stopping the way Daphne’s breath catches in her throat, body jolting upright.

“Oh god, fuck JT, right there,” she whines, one hand supporting her as the other tangles in JT’s red hair, holding him against her. Even though she knows he would never be cruel enough to pull away.

JT’s dark eyes lift to meet hers and Daphne whines at the sight of his face nestled between her thighs, tongue expertly continuing its movements, pushing her closer and closer to that edge. Daphne dissolves into a moaning mess above him, hips practically grinding against his face, head thrown back as her free hand attempts to find purchase on the smooth marble.

“Fuck, ‘m close,” Daphne gasps – as an encouragement or as a warning, she isn’t sure. JT isn’t deterred, keeping the same steady pace of his movements, those brown eyes glued to her face. The slow-building pressure finally comes to a head and Daphne can feel her entire body tense, the orgasm barreling through her.

She hears JT groan at the way her cunt clenches around his tongue, her essence coating his lips and chin as he works her through her orgasm. Daphne’s thighs tremble against his shoulders as she slowly comes down, JT’s tongue lapping up every trace of her release before finally tearing himself away.

The sight of JT’s russet beard now soaked with her arousal make a soft whimper fall from Daphne. He lifts himself up onto his feet, one hand coming to cup the back of her head and pulling her in for another passionate kiss – one that she gladly melts into, moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue.

Daphne lets out a surprised squeal as JT’s hands slip under her thighs, lifting her off the countertop. Her legs hook around his waist as he carries her across her apartment before pushing open the door to her bedroom and depositing her on to her bed.

“Better?” he asks when he pulls away, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Much. Thank you,” Daphne sighs before glancing down his body. She can clearly see the outline of his cock straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, her mouth watering at the sight. “Want me to take care of that for you?”

“Nah,” JT chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Not necessary. Could I use your shower though?”

“Yeah, of course.”

JT gives Daphne another gentle kiss before he disappears into her adjoining bathroom. Soon after, she hears the shower turn on and she finally lets her body sinks into the sheets.

Unfortunately, the absence of JT causes the memories of earlier to return to her brain unbidden. That was the only bad thing about a temporary fix – when the high fades, the fears and worries are still there. However, she couldn’t even begin to fix her racing mistakes until a week later – the scheduled next race. Right now, temporary fixes were all she had.

Daphne rolls her body over, hand reaching for her nightstand, pulling open the top drawer and taking out the small box from the depths. She sits up in the bed, her legs crossing as she flips open the box’s lid, grabbing the rolled paper and a lighter from the contents. She places the joint in her mouth, flicking the lighter to life and igniting the tip. The smoke hits her lungs as she inhales and she lets out a sigh, climbing off the bed and returning the box to its place before wandering over to the window and cracking it open.

The night air cools her skin, which is beneficial as it both further relaxes her but also dims the desire that surges when she hears JT’s moans, not completely muffled by the sound of rushing water and her bathroom door.

She could join him. But the combination of the alcohol she had drank earlier, the two orgasms that JT brought forth, and the weed now penetrating her already tired muscles forces her to return to the bed, her body sinking further into the pillows.

Daphne looks out the window, breeze gently ruffling the curtains as she lets her mind go blank. The sound of the bathroom door opening, the released steam creating a delectable contrast on her bare skin causes Daphne’s eyes to return to JT. His sweats are back on his body, his damp hair now cascading over his forehead.

She wordlessly holds the joint out to him – an offering that he gladly takes after he climbs onto the mattress beside her. The roll is passed between the two of them until it burns down, Daphne snubbing it out onto the ashtray next to her bed. It is impulsive, the way she turns towards JT, her body curling around him but the cross-fade must’ve removed her inhibitions. JT has no such qualms, moving to wrap his arm around her, fingers caressing her bare skin as she rests her cheek against his chest.

“Are you okay?”

JT’s voice breaks the silence, soft and delicate as if he was afraid to shatter any sense of peace that had been created. A heavy sigh falls from Daphne’s lips, her shoulders raising in a shrug.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

The question could easily be seen as a dismissal – a sign that Daphne didn’t want to talk about it. Looking back at this moment, Daphne wishes JT would’ve taken it as one. But he didn’t – doesn’t.

“I just saw the headline about your crash,” JT confesses.

Daphne lifts her head to look at him, catching the look in his eyes, much like the one he gave her when standing on her doorstep. He knew. And he was worried about her.

“Is that why you came over?”

“Is that why you called me?”

Daphne doesn’t give a reply because he was correct… but perhaps not for the reasons he thought.

Earlier that night, she had dialed JT’s number to give herself a distraction from the mistakes she made playing on repeat in her brain. But now, pinned under JT’s heavy gaze, the quiet voice that had recently grown louder over the months shouted a different reason for her call.

She needed him – not just as a distraction, but as a source of comfort.

And that need – that dependency on someone else – frightened her. It scared her back when she first realized how much she yearned for him, but it was even more terrifying now as JT looks at her with the utmost tenderness, his fingers still tracing mindless patterns against her skin.

That fear is what causes her shoulders to shrug again, her body lifting fully, forcing JT’s arm to fall from around her.

“It was nothing. I tried to pass and bumped, causing my bike to spin out. Completely normal.”

“Then why do you seem so upset?”

“Because I’m the one that it happened to,” Daphne humorlessly chuckles. JT doesn’t respond and she looks over her shoulder to see him staring at her, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m a woman, JT. In a very male dominated sport. Any mistake I make is just fodder for the people who believe that I don’t belong. A chance for them to say, ‘look, we told you so’.”

Another sigh falls as she turns away, her fingers absentmindedly playing with a loose thread in her comforter. The cross-fade could be blamed for why the next words slip from her mouth.

“Maybe they’re right.”

“What?”

The incredulous voice of JT, coupled with the shift of the mattress as he sits upright partially startles Daphne before she realizes that she spoke that thought out loud. And now she had to answer for it.

“Maybe this is as far as I go,” she explains. “I’m tired, JT. I’m tired of having to constantly prove myself and it’s never enough. I’m tired of giving miles and getting an inch in return.”

“That – that doesn’t make sense. This doesn’t sound like the Daphne I know.”

A sharp huff escapes Daphne unbridled, her head whipping around to stare at JT. She couldn’t say whether it was her inebriated state that made her react so sharply, or whether it was his words – the presumption in them even as care hung on every syllable.

“How would you know what I sound like?” she retorts, not bothering to keep the venom out of her voice. “Who even are you in this equation, JT?”

She can see JT recoil at her viper sting, shock dancing across his face before it hardens into sheer determination.

“I’m someone that cares about you.”

“You don’t get a say in how I live my life. You’re someone that I fuck on a semi-regular basis. Nothing more. Hell, I shouldn’t have even continued to entertain the idea of you in my bed past that first night.”

“Then why do you keep calling me?”

Daphne knows the answer and yet it dies on the tip of her tongue. The fear kills it before she can speak. The sheer desire for JT just meant more to lose if she ever lost him. And considering who both of them were in this situation – brother and friend to Jesse – the chances of this ending sooner rather than later were exponentially higher.

Murphy’s Law: everything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

So why risk it?

“Because apparently I have poor judgement,” Daphne spits out, directing every ounce of malice into the words to mask the pang of her heart.

The silence falls, weighted with every word said and every word left unsaid. JT just looks at her, those big brown eyes seeming to pierce through her ski, down to her bones. Whatever he finds there good enough as JT lets out a sigh before throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, removing himself from her sheets. Daphne watches as he walks across her bedroom, opening the door to the rest of her apartment.

“Where are you going?”

Her question stops him at the threshold, his hand gripping the molding around the doorframe as he glances back towards her.

“I’m leaving. If you want to quit, I’m not going to stop you.”

His words could be referring to her racing career alone, but based on the heartbroken glimmer in his irises, Daphne is inclined to believe that he’s also talking about them. He doesn’t confirm her suspicions though. Instead, he keeps his word, disappearing from her line of sight. A few seconds pass before Daphne hears the creak of her front door opening, followed shortly by the click of the latch returning to the doorjamb.

That click resonates through the apartment and penetrates her ribcage. The reverberation of that finality is what shatters her already delicate heart, the ache incomparable to the ache in her already bruised and battered body.

And this time, she knew temporary fixes would never be enough.

She was here for Jesse.

That was Daphne’s manta as she walks towards Little Caesars Arena. Her motorcycle was parked in a garage a few blocks away and her blue denim jacket hangs over her shoulders, the gold jewelry adorning her septum and ears sparkling in the downtown lights – a call towards the Toronto Sceptres logo and colors.

The PWHL had come to Detroit for their Takeover Tour and the city was blessed to be able to watch another Compher play hockey. The tickets had appeared in Daphne’s email months ago from Jesse, with a silly gif attached begging her to show up.

There was always a glint hesitation in her attendance, and although the reason for that hesitation had shifted and changed, it still existed. Because Daphne’s ticket was situated right next to the rest of the Compher family; Jesse’s mom, dad, her sister Morgan, and JT.

The initial concern was having to sit next to JT through a two-hour game, pretending like they were just friends and not each other’s regular hookup. Now, she had to sit next to JT and act like her heart didn’t ache for him still.

It had been almost a month since JT left her apartment and left her reeling. She had returned to the racetrack, to distract herself from feeling the shattered pieces of her heart piercing into every space of her chest. Heartbreak turned out to be a great motivator and she placed podium in the past three races she had competed in. Although the success didn’t fill the hole in her life where JT used to reside.

Daphne descends the stadium stairs, her hand gripping the railing a little tighter when she spies the bright ginger hair of JT, an empty seat next to him. She takes a deep breath before walking down the row, apologizing to the fans already sitting until she stops right next to JT. He must see her jean-clad legs out of the corner of his eyes, his hands finding the armrests as if he was about to lift himself up to let her pass. Until his face turns towards her and the action stills when he registers that it’s her standing next to him.

“Daphne.”

Her name falls from his mouth in soft exhale, so quiet that she barely hears it over the din of the other voices in the arena.

“Hey JT,” she replies, offering him a gentle smile. He doesn’t return her grin, his face reverting to a neutral that stings more than if he had glared at her in disgust.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for Jesse,” she explains, settling down into the vacant seat and trying desperately to ignore the woody scent of his cologne flooding her senses. “She invited me and, well, she’s my friend so I’m here to cheer her on.”

She swears that she can see JT’s face soften, his lips twitching into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before it was interrupted by a feminine voice.

“JT. Who’s this?”

Daphne looks down the row to see the bright smiling face of who she assumes to be Jesse’s mother. It’s easy for Daphne to stick out her hand across JT towards the woman.

“Hi, I’m Daphne. I’m a friend of Jesse’s from Toronto. You must be Valerie.”

“That would be me! This is my husband Bob and Jesse’s sister Morgan. You seem to already know JT.”

“Yeah,” JT says to his mom, although his eyes never leave Daphne. “Jesse asked me to help Daphne move in when she first moved to Detroit.” His explanation is both accurate but also a little misleading – ignoring their actual first meeting was a little more illicit than JT unpacking boxes.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Valerie replies, leaning back in her seat. “It must have been nice, being able to know someone in the first few days of moving to a strange city.”

“Yeah, it was.”

Daphne more so directs the words towards JT, letting them linger in the hope that he can read her as easily as he always could. Unfortunately, the lights dim before she can decipher any expression appearing on JT’s face, a cheer going up from the crowd. Daphne directs her attention to the giant screen hanging over the ice as the teams are introduced, cheering loudly when Jesse’s name is announced.

The game is fun and exciting, the Septres scoring a last-minute goal to win and collect 3 points (something that JT explained is different than the NHL’s point system). Daphne enjoyed listening to and learning from the Compher family – even if they might not have been the most unbiased source. But then again, what sports fan was? Even the people in the stands at the raceway were aggressive in their support for their favorite driver and the Compher’s weren’t just cheering for a team. They were cheering for their family.

Valerie insisted that Daphne join them afterwards, JT leading them towards the parking lot where Jesse would leave from. She tried to give an excuse as to why she couldn’t but before she could, Morgan linked their arms together and pulled Daphne forward. That effortless acceptance made Daphne’s heart skip a beat – the way that they allowed her to slot so easily into the Compher clan, getting lost in the chatter as they wait for Jesse to appear. It made her wonder how much she had really lost that night a month ago.

Her eyes occasionally dart to JT to see if similar thoughts are running through his mind but every time her gaze lands on his face, it’s entirely neutral – a pleasant smile but no sense of emotion directed her way.

An excited squeal breaks through the noise and Daphne sees Jesse running towards them, her arms outstretched. She steps back, letting Jesse embrace her parents first before hugging Morgan and JT in kind. Her heart softens at the sight of the family, so perfectly united and she has to push back the images of herself included in the group as JT’s girl, not just Jesse’s friend.

Daphne finally clears her throat, the sound catching Jesse’s attention and Daphne can’t stop the grin that pulls at her lips at the sight of Jesse’s jaw dropping open in joy.

“Hey girlie,” Daphne says, her voice lifting in a playful tease and it seems as if those words are what snaps Jesse out of her frozen trance, her body lunging forward and practically leaping into Daphne’s arms.

“Oh my god, you made it!” Jesse squeals, jumping with joy as she embraces Daphne before finally pulling away. “How have you been? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in months!”

“I’m good,” Daphne laughs, the bright energy rolling off Jesse in waves making her feel lighter.

“Has Detroit been treating you well?”

The question is innocent but Daphne can’t stop her eyes from flicking back towards JT. And for the first time that night, she feels like she can see a flash of some emotion pass over his face. Daphne sighs, turning her attention back to her best friend, not wanting to get lost in… whatever her and JT shared.

“As well as it can,” she answers truthfully.

She isn’t sure if it’s the drop in her voice or the sadness that twinges the edges of the syllables that causes Jesse’s eyebrows to furrow, noticing the weight on her friend’s shoulders. But before she can press further, Bob’s voice forces her attention back to her family.

“Sorry sweetheart, but we’ve gotta go. Gotta catch an early flight to Chicago tomorrow.”

Daphne lets go of Jesse, allowing her to run back to her parents, hugging them both. She can hear the murmured congratulations that pass between them before Bob and Valerie depart, waving back to the four of them one last time as they melt into the crowd. It isn’t until they are completely out of sight does Jesse turn to the remainder of them.

“What about you, Morgan? Do you have to leave?”

“My flight isn’t until tomorrow evening.”

“JT?”

“I’ve got to get on a plane to D.C. but that’s not until the afternoon.”

Daphne laughs at the sight of a wide smile splitting across Jesse’s face as she glances mischievously at her siblings.

“So… drinks? I’ll buy.”

“Why would you be buying? Your team just moved into third place in the league,” Morgan teases her back before jostling her brother’s shoulder. “If anything, they should be on JT since his sisters are visiting his city.”

“I can see what you’re trying to do lil sis and it’s not gonna work,” JT quips in response, a soft grin on his face.

“Fine. Then I guess, Daphne’s paying, since it’s her city now too,” Jesse replies, turning her attention back to her friend. “What do you say? Down for a few drinks?”

“As tempting as draining my bank account sounds, I can’t tonight,” Daphne says, a light apology in her voice. “I’m planning on going to the racetrack early tomorrow morning, getting a few laps in before it gets too crowded.”

“So, you didn’t quit.”

The statement falls from JT’s mouth, forcing Daphne’s attention to turn to him. He is staring at her and once again, she can see some emotion flicker in his gaze. But her focus is interrupted before she gets a chance to understand it – this time by Jesse’s shrill voice.

“Quit?”

Daphne can understand her confusion. The two of them bonded over fighting through boundaries in a male-dominated industry after meeting at a Women in Sports conference in Toronto. Their shared sense of grit and determination is what really brought them together as friends. It was probably was unthinkable to Jesse that Daphne even considered quitting.

“I had a moment of weakness,” Daphne shrugs, giving the very abridged version of events. “I can tell you all about it over coffee if you’re still in town in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, the team isn’t heading back to Toronto until Tuesday. Text me the location and I’ll be there.”

“Will do.”

Daphne hugs Jesse, murmuring a congratulations to her before turning to Morgan. Morgan wastes no time scooping her into a similar hug, telling Daphne that it was great to meet her and she replies similarly. They separate, leaving her and JT.

There is a moment of awkwardness, the two of them just standing there appraising each other. Daphne doesn’t let it linger to the point of uncomfortable, choosing to finally utter a soft ‘see you later’ to him. She gives the Compher siblings a wave before turning and walking towards the parking garage.

She is almost out of sight when some instinct tells her to look back. She does. And finds JT’s eyes fixed on her retreating form, clearly not listening to a word his sisters say around him. Daphne finally has enough time to process the emotion on his face.

It was regret. It was longing.

And it gave her hope.

The bell over the café door rings out, entirely too cheerful for a Monday afternoon, as Daphne walks into the shop. She doesn’t need to scour the store for Jesse, the redhead’s hand sticking up and waving her over before Daphne even takes off her leather jacket.

A grin appears on her face as she makes her way over to Jesse, her body relaxing even further when she sees an extra cup of coffee sitting in front of the empty chair at the round table.

“White chocolate mocha, just how you like it,” Jesse says, pushing the cup further towards Daphne as she sits down.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this.”

“The coffee or my sparkling presence?”

“Both,” comes Daphne’s quick reply, a giggle falling from each of them.

The conversation starts with the typical catch-up topics of two people who used to live in the same city now living 372 kilometers away. Family, friends, adventures, work. Jesse regales Daphne with the PWHL season thus far and how exciting the Takeover Tour has been for the league – seeing the demand for women’s sports firsthand. It makes Daphne happy as well because this was the goal when they first met at that conference; giving women’s sports an equal spotlight. The conversation of their perspective careers eventually leads to the question Daphne was waiting to hear from Jesse. She is thankful that her friend at least waited a little while before confronting her.

“So, what was this moment of weakness that almost made you quit motorsports?” Jesse asks, her own brown eyes pinning Daphne down – so like her brothers. Daphne sighs, shaking her head as she often did whenever she replayed that night.

“It was stupid really,” she begins, looking back to see Jesse patiently waiting for her to elaborate. “I crashed during first race of the season and… I don’t know. Just let those doubts creep in and thought it might be best if I just stopped racing.”

“You usually never let those men get to you,” Jesse teases.

“To be fair, I was a little intoxicated when I said it.”

“How did JT know about it?”

The mention of JT’s name in the context of the situation catches Daphne off-guard, even though she should’ve figured it would be asked. The only reason Jesse knew about Daphne’s wavering self-confidence was because of her brother’s words. But it takes a moment for Daphne to think of a plausible excuse.

“I went to a bar that night. JT happened to be there with his teammates and found me.”

If Jesse notices Daphne’s hesitation before answering or even suspected her of lying, she doesn’t show it. Just leans back in her chair, her arms crossing as she takes in her friend.

“I still find it hard to believe that you even thought about quitting,” Jesse says with a shake of her head. “I mean, you hurdle down a racetrack at over 180mph while controlling a 350-pound machine, taking turns with your body nearly pressed against the pavement, risking serious injury every time you race. You’re fucking fearless, man.”

“Fearless,” Daphne mutters out, a sharp humorless laugh painting the words. “I’m fucking terrified.”

The confession clearly catches Jesse off-guard, her body straightening even as her head cocks to the side in confusion.

“You know what makes me a good racer?”

Daphne waits for a response from Jesse – which comes as a shake of her head – before continuing.

“Always being ready for the worst-case scenario. Motorcycle racing seems wild and reckless but I guarantee, every racer steps onto that track with the utmost preparation and control. Because it’s so dangerous. You can’t go in there half-cocked. You’ve gotta be ready because anything that can go wrong will go wrong.”

“That seems like a bleak outlook.”

“It’s Murphy’s Law,” Daphne says with a shrug, before elaborating. “An old adage from an aerospace engineer.”

“But I feel like you have to balance it,” Jesse says. “If you’re always expecting things to go wrong then it’s easy to stop believing things will go right.”

The truth in Jesse’s statement sinks into Daphne’s heart, those words echoing throughout the past month, the soundtrack to that night in her bedroom, another Compher staring at her with hurt reflecting those brown eyes. Daphne chuckles again, her head shaking before she playfully looks up at Jesse, her next words twinged with a gentle tease.

“Where were you a month ago?”

“What do you mean? You’re still racing so must’ve figured something out.”

“Yeah, but…” Daphne starts, her words halting as she debates telling Jesse about her personal failures. A deep breath rattles through her before she continues. “I think I might have quit on something else that I’m not sure I can get back.”

The story tumbles out of her mouth in a cascade, although with enough control to not mention the starring character was Jesse’s brother. In this moment, he was just Jay – a guy that Daphne met at a bar her first night in Detroit and had been regularly hooking up with since then. But Daphne tells her about the downfall: him coming over that night, the care that was so plainly painted on his face, and the fear that that look brought forth in Daphne’s mind.

“I could tell he wanted more. And I was just scared of that.”

“Scared because you didn’t want it or scared because you wanted the same thing?”

“The second, I suppose,” Daphne sighs. “Because the worst thing that could happen is that I could give my all to him and he would still leave me.”

“But you lost him anyway.”

There it was; the truth laid out plain for all to see.

Jesse just stares at Daphne, once again letting the words register before letting out a sigh of her own.

“Fear is a natural part of life, Daphne. You obviously know that – you’ve just told me that you are terrified before every race. That in your mind, you’ve played through all the worst-case scenarios. But you still get on the bike and ride. How?”

“I let myself only focus on what is right in front of me. The next turn, the next stretch of road, the next lap. Not what could happen, not what will happen. Only what is happening now.”

“Maybe you should try that in life as well,” Jesse says, the lightness and genuine care in her voice obvious, a small smile tugging at her lips. The sight of it causes a similar grin to appear on Daphne’s face as she leans back in her seat.

“God, what am I going to do without Jesse Compher knowledge when you’re back in Toronto?” she jokes, a light laugh falling from Jesse’s lips.

“I suppose you could try JT,” Jesse replies. “It probably won’t be good as mine but at least it’s Compher knowledge.”

The mention of JT’s name makes Daphne hesitate, her smile slightly faltering at the thought of being able to talk to him one-on-one again. Instantly, she takes a deep breath.

One thing at a time.

“He mentioned flying to D.C. last night,” Daphne says, a slight raise at the end of the statement indicating the question.

“Yeah, Red Wings have a like a ten-day road trip,” Jesse explains, her hand a dismissive wave before shooting another grin toward Daphne. “I guess you’ll have to wait until next Wednesday to see if he can compare to me.”

“No one can compare to you, Jess.”

“Damn straight.”

The conversation ends shortly afterwards, a text from one of Jesse’s teammates calling her back to the hotel. When Daphne hugs her outside the café in one last embrace, she almost didn’t want to let go. Having Jesse back in her life was a like a fresh breeze blowing in from the North and she didn’t want to lose it. But as Daphne rides away on her bike, her brain tossing over everything discussed in that small café, she knew one thing that she absolutely had to do: she had to see JT again.

There was no telling what would come from the conversation, every potential ending turning over in her head from best to worst. But at the same time, that didn’t matter right now.

Who knew what their future together looked like – if they even had one. That was miles down the road. All Daphne needed to do was find enough bravery to take the next step.

The wooden door in front of Daphne is familiar, as was the road that led her to it. She had been here before, had walked up these same front steps. The porch light gleams in the early evening, the dusk turning dark enough to trigger the sensor.

If Daphne wanted to turn back, now was her last chance.

Sure, she was here, standing on JT’s doorstep but he had no idea that she had come. There was no text, no call, no warning. Daphne didn’t want him to stop her before she even started. And so far, it was working. She managed to make it all the way here, after ten days of waiting for him to come back to Detroit.

The only thing left to do was knock on his door.

A deep inhale lifts her chest, her eyes fluttering close, grounding herself to the present moment. The same exercise she did before a race, telling her mind not to focus on anything else; not a setback that happened before, not an obstacle that you could encounter later. Look only to the road in front of you.

Daphne’s eyes open and with one final press of courage, her hand lifts, knuckles rapping gently on the door.

The pause afterwards is almost long enough to send her running until the sound of the deadbolt clicking open pricks at her eardrums. Her eyes stay trained to the door, watching as it swings open and JT appears in her line of sight.

Daphne registers the look of shock that dances across his features when he sees it’s her on his doorstep. The two of them stand there, letting the only noise between them be the quiet evening birdsong. Finally, Daphne manages to find her words.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology is barely a whisper, the words not seeming like enough to accurately convey how much she messed up. Daphne hopes that JT can hear it in her tone but when he doesn’t say anything – doesn’t even move a muscle – she starts to panic.

Daphne’s mouth opens again, ready to let every fear, every confession tumble from the deepest parts of her soul: how scared she was to lose him, how sorry she was for snapping at him, how stupid she was for letting him leave, how much it ached not having him around for those weeks afterwards.

However, she is only able to inhale. Because before she can utter a single syllable, JT moves.

His arms reach out, hands landing on her hips before pulling her into his embrace. And then he is kissing her.

Kissing her with such fierce passion, with such deep devotion that Daphne is helpless to do anything but let her body melt, pressing herself impossibly closer to him.

She missed this. God, she missed this. The smell of his cologne, the taste of his lips, way her body slotted so perfectly against his, the way he kissed her without pretense. There was nothing she wanted more than to spend her entire life wrapped up in his arms.

Her only regret was how long it took for her to realize that.

There is no more wasted time. JT doesn’t hesitate to pull Daphne entirely over the threshold, his lips still attached to hers. Daphne lets herself get lost in his kisses, lets him guide her around his space, lets him take the lead. Every kiss is a confirmation that he missed her too. Every kiss just sends more courage thrumming through her veins.

It’s impressive that the two of them even manage to get to JT’s bedroom, clothes discarded along the way, the desperate need for each other no longer hidden as hands touch newly exposed skin.

The way JT gently lowers Daphne onto his bed it almost reverent, his frame covering hers as their tongues dance together. Daphne can feel his touch trace each curve of her frame, travelling across the peaks and valleys of her body before dipping between her thighs.

A gasp falls from her lips as JT’s rough fingertips press against her, finding her wet and wanting.

“JT.”

His name falls from her lips like a plea, begging him for everything that he was willing to give. It is only emphasized by her own hand reaching down to wrap around his length, the weight and pulse of it in her palm only increasing her desire.

JT pulls away, his breathing heavy as he rests his forehead against hers. There is no hiding from those beautiful eyes, now staring into hers so deeply it felt like he was looking into her own soul.

Normally, the intensity would’ve frightened her; another reason to run from the things that made her scared. But she was done running. So, Daphne returns his stare and within those inky depths, she can see a glint of something – something she had seen before. The same something she saw a month ago.

Care. Devotion. Perhaps even… love.

“Tell me what you want, Daphne,” JT whispers above her, the pleading edge to his own voice cutting through the dusky evening. “Tell me what you need.”

Daphne isn’t sure if there is a combination of words in the English language that would encompass the depth of her desire for the man in front of her. What did she need? She needed his laughter. She needed his smile. She needed his encouragement. She needed JT’s fire to warm her, to fuel her, to set her life ablaze. That’s what she needed.

“You,” she whispers out, the words dripping with every ounce of sincerity she had. “I just need you.”

She watches as a glimmer of surprise flashes across JT’s face, he himself perhaps caught off-guard by her intensity. But – much like their previously shared moments – JT recovers quickly, taking everything in stride. A soft smile appears on his face before he leans down, his lips now mere millimeters from hers.

Perhaps it was another test. Perhaps JT was offering her another chance to turn away. But Daphne knew that she would never run from him again.

She lifts her head, closing the distance between them as her lips gently press against his, a hand coming to rest on the nape of his neck. A gentle tug pulls him closer to her as she pours every emotion into that kiss.

JT lets her guide him, lets her take the lead for a moment until his own desire surges forward, kissing her back with the intensity of a thousand suns. Daphne breathes a soft sigh into his open mouth, her chest arching into his, wanting him as close as possible. She can feel one of his hands tracing upwards along her body until it comes to rest on her jawline, pulling her deeper.

It seems like it takes all of JT’s strength to break the kiss. He doesn’t move far, his retreat prevented by her hand still resting on the base of his skull, fingers gently playing with his hair. His own thumb caresses over the skin of her cheekbone and the action is so reverent it almost makes Daphne think that JT can’t believe she is real. That she is here beneath him, wanting him as much as he wanted her.

Her hand falls from his neck, down the sharp cut of his collarbone before dancing over the strong muscles of his chest. The soft ginger hair that litters his abdomen tickles her fingertips, guiding her path downwards until her hand wraps around his cock. Daphne gently pumps her hand over his silken skin, spreading the beads of precum along his length.

A muttered curse falls from JT’s lips as he buries his face into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his lips coming to suck a mark into the thin skin there. Soft moans escape Daphne at both the sensation of his lips against her skin and the weight of his cock in her hand. JT finally lifts his body entirely upright, now towering over her, gently knocking away her hand away from him as he grips his length, his free hand now gripping her waist.

Daphne happily spreads her legs, opening her thighs as an invitation; one that JT accepts almost immediately, aligning himself with her center before slowly pushing in.

Daphne’s lips part in an almost silent moan at the comfortingly familiar stretch of him sinking into her heat. A similar expression crosses over JT’s face at the sensation of her walls wrapping around him, both hands now finding a hold against her hips as he continues to push forward.

“Still feel like heaven around me,” JT mutters as he bottoms out, pelvis flush against hers. Daphne can’t find any words, the only sounds falling from her lips come as soft mewls and desperate whines, her hands burrowing in the sheets.

The loss of one of JT’s hands against her hips pulls more whimpers from her chest, but it is the sensation of that hand now sneaking beneath hers that causes her eyes to open. She feels JT’s fingers wiggling against her own, silently coaxing her to release the fabric of his sheets. Daphne slowly relaxes her grasp, allowing enough space for JT to slot his fingers between hers, his grip around her hand tightening.

His body leans down again, their intertwined hands pressing into the mattress next to Daphne’s head before kissing her again, breaths mingling together as they both memorize the feeling of being so completely entangled in one another.

“Move,” Daphne whispers.

The single syllable is all the encouragement that JT needs as his hips roll, grinding against her body as he kisses her, swallowing every noise that falls from her lips. His pace is slow and sensual, as if he was making up for lost time, for all those nights he didn’t have her in his bed. Both of their breathing is staccato, the need for each other no longer hidden beneath sharp quips and homemade inner walls. The hand that had been holding Daphne’s hip travels down, gripping the back of her thigh, lifting her leg higher. The new angle makes every stroke of him brush against that damnable spot that had her seeing stars. There is no stopping the cries that fall from her lips, her head thrown back against the pillows, JT’s lips kissing her jaw.

“Always look so beautiful,” JT mutters against her skin, keeping his steady pace even as her body writhes against him. “So pretty against my sheets. Almost like you belong here.”

“I do,” Daphne gasps, the word wrapped in a strangled moan. “I’m yours, JT. I’ve been yours.”

“How long? How long have you been mine?”

“Since that first night. Knew it since then. I just wanted you.”

“I wanted you the same,” JT murmurs, nuzzling deeper into her skin, the heat of his breath fluttering against the shell of her ear. “Let me hear you. Prove to me that you’re mine.”

A whine falls from Daphne’s lips, her hips bucking up to meet his with every thrust, begging him for more. Her hand reaches up, wrapping around his torso and feeling the muscles rippling along his back, clinging to him like he was the sun and she had been abandoned in the darkness. JT’s hand on her thigh drops to her hip again before dipping in between their bodies, pressing against her clit.

The moans that fall from Daphne’s mouth increase in pitch as JT’s fingers rub against the sensitive bundle of nerves, a perfect contrast to the slow, languid tempo of his hips.

Daphne can feel her orgasm gradually building with each thrust. The sounds falling from her have become almost incomprehensible – a jumble of curses, moans, and JT’s name. She can feel JT’s body heat depart from her, his body lifting upright. His dark brown eyes take in her body beneath him, her eyes screwed shut, their hands still intertwined.

“Open your eyes,” he says, the quiet demand floating through the bedroom. There was something about his voice, his plea that has Daphne’s eyelids fluttering open without hesitation. And when her own brown irises land on JT, she can feel her breath catch in her throat.

It could easily be blamed on how good JT is making her feel, his ministrations never ceasing. It could be caused by the mere sight of him, strong and stunning over her, that ginger hair falling over his forehead.

But the real reason her breathing stalled was the look of pure adoration painted so plainly across every feature. And for the first time, the sight didn’t scare her – didn’t cause butterflies to erupt in her stomach, didn’t cause her heart to do somersaults in her chest. Instead, she felt… calm.

It was the same feeling she felt when driving on the open road, the whole world laid out in front her. It felt like freedom. It felt like peace.

“Please.” The beg falls from her lips, keening and needy. “Please, JT.”

JT doesn’t speed up his movements, slowly but steadily driving her to that delectable peak, her cunt fluttering desperately around him. It was a pleasure that she would welcome time and time again. It is a feeling that she never wanted to live without. She watches as JT leans himself down, his body heat washing over her like the summer sun before kissing her again. Daphne’s body arches to meet him, kissing him back fiercely.

His lips depart from her but don’t move far, his forehead pressing against hers as their eyes connect again.

“Let it go, sweetheart,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath fanning across her cheekbones. “Come for me.”

Daphne is helpless but to comply, her entire body tensing as her orgasm rushes through her. A quiet muttered curse rumbles from JT as he continues his movements within her, fucking her through her release, prolonging the pleasurable sensations, the muscles in her legs trembling around his waist.

The high fades, her breathing turning from staccato to deep sighs. The hand that wasn’t tangled in his lifts to cup JT’s face, pulling his lips to hers again. She can feel JT’s pace increase, chasing his own orgasm and Daphne gladly swallows the groans that fall from him, matching them with her own whimpers.

It doesn’t take long for JT’s body to still and there is a mutual moan that sounds from both of them at the sensation of his cock pulsing inside of her.

They stay there for a moment, still entirely tangled in each other as their breathing slows, sweat drenched foreheads pressed together. JT’s hand is still locked in hers as Daphne lets her gaze rove over his face, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips which JT blissfully returns before kissing her once again.

A soft whine falls from her as he slowly pulls out, his body collapsing against the sheets next to her. He pulls her close, hand gripping her waist until they are face to face. JT’s thumb strokes the taut skin of her hipbone as the two just rest there. Daphne’s own hand lifts to trace the outline of his jaw, memorizing the feeling of his beard against her fingers.

The silence remains but as the time passes, Daphne can feel the tension tug at the corners, the unanswered questions pushing to the forefront. Although JT doesn’t push. Instead, he just continues to stare at her, the lines of his face soft and patient.

“You were wrong,” Daphne says, finally breaking the silence.

She can see JT’s eyebrows furrow in a question, the first words spoken surely not what he was expected. But despite his apparent confusion, JT stays quiet, letting Daphne continue.

“I never really wanted to quit. On racing or on us. But I was scared. Scared of putting all that work in and losing you anyway. Scared of committing to this and then something happening that forces us to separate. Because you’re my friend’s brother, because you got traded, any reason. I had feared that ever since this started. It felt like you were fire and I was gasoline. And every time I was with you, I was always aware that one mistake could make everything incinerate. I thought it would be better – safer, really – to just let you go before that happened. But as soon as you walked out of my apartment, I knew I was wrong.”

Daphne’s words stop, the silence returning once again as JT takes in her confession. She waits, offering him the same level of patience that he gave to her, the only movements she makes is her thumb brushing against his hand, still intertwined with hers. JT’s eyes lift, a sparkle of humor glinting in those familiar dark irises.

“You do know that gasoline needs fire to work?”

There is no stopping the laugh that falls from Daphne’s lips at the gentle tease, the lightness of his voice banishing any form of heaviness that had settled over them previously.

“Are you really mansplaining motors to me?”

“Never,” JT chuckles with her before his face turns more serious. “I guess, that was my way of saying that I always thought we would work out. I knew you were scared – I think I figured that out from the look on your face when I showed up on your doorstep that first morning. When you learned that I was Jesse’s brother, not just some random stranger at a bar. But I never thought that would be a problem. I thought it might actually work to our advantage. She knows you and she already really likes you. You do know that, right?”

“I do,” Daphne says, the smile returning to her face.

“I could see the fear but… I mean, you can’t live your life in fear. Or else you’ll miss all the best parts.”

JT’s words enter Daphne’s brain, tugging another memory forward. The appearance of it in her mind makes another giggle fall from her lips. She can see JT’s head tilt and she shakes her head.

“I had another Compher recently tell me something similar,” she explains with a grin.

“Maybe you should listen,” JT teases in response.

Daphne doesn’t verbally respond at first, choosing instead to lean her body closer to JT, connecting their lips in a kiss, her hand pressed against his cheek. His own arm wraps fully around her, her body slotting perfectly against his until she breaks away.

“I’m listening now.”

Daphne always loved April. It was the month of renewal and it felt like hope was dancing on every gentle breeze. The weather had slowly been turning warmer, the promise of summer right around the corner. Unfortunately, on this April day, she was nervous.

The Red Wings regular season had ended a few days ago which signaled a few things. First, the start of the playoffs which Detroit had claimed a spot in. But second, and more importantly to Daphne in this current moment – it signaled the Red Wings annual gala.

Which JT had invited her to. As his plus one. As his girlfriend.

The two of them had been dating quietly for the past month and even though some of the guys on the team had met her already, this would be their first large public outing as a couple. This would also be the event where JT’s family would learn about them… the entire family. His mom Valerie, his dad Bob, his sister Morgan, and his sister (and Daphne’s best friend) Jesse.

That detail was what had Daphne standing in her living room with multiple pairs of shoes strewn around her, trying to find the ‘perfect’ pair.

JT was sitting on the couch, simply watching as she works through her nerves – mostly because nothing he had done previously had helped. Not the joint he rolled that they had shared. Not the orgasm that he coaxed out of her with her body splayed against the couch cushions, head between her thighs.

The vibrating of a phone against the coffee table sounds out, Daphne looking over to see if it was her screen or JT’s that had lit up. It had been a toss-up all afternoon: JT’s family and teammates asking where he was, Jesse asking Daphne if she’s seen JT. Right now, it’s JT’s phone, which he picks up to look at the message.

“Babe, we really need to go. We’re late,” JT says, his gentle eyes looking up at her, voice not pushing but still firm.

“I know,” Daphne replies, zipping up a pair of tall black boots. “How’s this?”

“You look beautiful.”

“You always say that,” she teases.

“Because it’s always true,” JT quickly shoots back, before holding out his hand to her. She takes it, following him downstairs to his car.

They drive through the Detroit roads, the sunlight glinting off the skyscraper windows as Daphne tries to breathe, grounding herself to the moment. Just like she did before a race. The weight of JT’s hand on her thigh is an additional comfort, letting her relax as he pulls up in front of the hotel. He helps her out of the car, his arm looping around hers.

“Nervous?” JT asks, his voice light and teasing.

“Tell me why I can hurdle down a racetrack at 300kph and yet this is more terrifying,” Daphne replies, her eyes staring at the glass front doors, knowing that a whole host of people were waiting inside.

“Need some fire to fuel you?”

JT’s odd turn of phrase snaps Daphne out of her nerves, a smile appearing on her face as she turns to look at her boyfriend.

“If that’s an innuendo, you should’ve made it in the comfort of the apartment,” she jokes, a laugh falling from JT’s lips.

He doesn’t say anything else, only leans in to kiss her and she’d be damned if the taste of him doesn’t make her feel braver. When they pull away from each other, she gives him a small nod and they walk forward.

They find the ballroom where the gala was being held, walking in to a room decked out in red and white. Teammates and their families mingle around the room, a few of them nodding in Daphne and JT’s direction. The nerves slowly start to dissipate as they continue to move through the crowd. Everything would be fine – it was just a normal day.

At least, it was. Until an all too familiar voice to both JT and Daphne rises over the din.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

a/n: could I have just had Homecoming: Crush be the exchange fic? yeah, probably. was it way more fun to do this instead? absolutely! is this fic entirely different than what I originally planned? 100% but do I love it anyway? duh! am I now a JT Compher girl? still debatable but I will always turn into one for my bestie 🖤

taglist: @laurenairay @fallinallincurls @svexhenthusiast

#nicole writes #winter fic exchange 2k25 #dividers by troublesomesnitch #jt compher fic #jt compher imagine #jt compher x OC #detroit red wings fic #detroit red wings imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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axkirak · 2 years ago

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Down The Road (F1 x Reader) SMAU Season 1

>> Down The Road 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

➡ Previous Part : Next Part

Taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @jpg3 , @tsukishimawhore , @minkyungseokie , @roseseraj , @bbhyuneee , @omgsuperstarg (If you want to be added in this fic, just tell me in reply )

A/N : I'm trying to write in time for the #QatarGP because I want the storyline in Part 2 to continue in real-time (spoiler alert: from Episode 3 onwards, there will be a one-year time skip). I hope you enjoy the racing and the fic too. If you do, don't forget to like and reblog. It's great encouragement for me, who has been sitting with a sore back at the computer for hours to write this SMAU fic

note ; age-gap, a bit of mentor/student relationship

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Season 1 : ── 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐬 ── (Lewis Hamilton x Reader) S1 : E02 𝐾-𝑝𝑜𝑝 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟

Beyond the thrilling competition on the F1 track, the off-track relationships of F1 drivers have also become an exciting topic for fans. That's precisely what's happening with Y/N, a rising star in motorsport, whose relationship with Lewis Hamilton, a seven-time World Champion, is being closely watched. Is it real, or is it just a theory from fans? It's a tough question to answer definitively, as only they can shed light on the situation.

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Source : GQ Sports (On YouTube)

On this episode of "Actually Me" Formula 1 driver Y/N goes undercover on the internet and responds to real comments from fans on Twitter, Instagram, Wikipedia, Reddit, YouTube, and TikTok. How does it feel to be the only woman racing in Formula 1 today? How does she handle the pressure of competing in a male-dominated sport? Which driver is she closest to? And the most pressing question everyone wants to know : What is the true nature of her relationship with Lewis Hamilton? Are they friends, colleagues, competitors, or something more?

For this final question, she simply laughs and replies cryptically, “You guys should ask him (rather than asking me), because I’m curious too.”

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Source : Formula 1: Drive to Survive (On Netflix)

In the show “Formula 1: Drive to Survive” Lewis Hamilton finally opens up about his relationship with Y/N for the first time after it became a hot topic on Twitter world recently. Hamilton said “It’s hard to explain, but we have a very special bond because we’ve known each other for a long time,” He further defined her as the ‘special one’ in his life, yet he still remained enigmatic regarding whether their relationship contains romantic aspect or not.

Additionally, he delves into their personal closeness, mentioning that Y/N is very much a Gen Z personified, enjoying Twitter and often sending funny memes to everyone. He humorously reveals that she sometimes replies to him "OK Boomer," when he doesn't quite grasp the memes she sends.

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Source : Lewis Hamilton's Instagram Story (update)

Lewis Hamilton posted a picture of himself wearing friendship bracelets and tagging @Y/N on Instagram Story before deleting it 11 minutes after

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Source : Twitter (update)

Rumors about a romantic relationship between Y/N and Lewis Hamilton started circulating after a Twitter exchange between the two, leading fans to speculate and gather evidence suggesting they might be dating.

This wave of speculation has received both positive and negative reactions from fans. Some fans disagree with the dating rumors, while others support them. drawing parallels to the F1 version of Tom Holland and Zendaya

While the rumors have been hot topics among F1 fans on Twitter, there has been no confirmation from either Y/N or Hamilton.

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Source : Y/N’s instagram (update)

"Get in, loser We're going to do hotlap"

Y/N posted on Instagram that she will be doing a hot lap for the team's VIP guest in #QatarGP There's speculation that the guest might be a fellow racing driver like Alex, Albon, or George Russell, especially after she previously did a hot lap with Russell without any sign of Lewis Hamilton

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Source : Lewis Hamilton's instagram (update)

"Ready to go with the winner @Y/N"

Lewis Hamilton posted on Instagram, confirming that he is the VIP guest who will get a hot lap with Y/N. Followed by a massive response from fellow F1 drivers and fans who are closely watching their relationship.

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Source : Y/N and Lewis Hamilton's instagram (update)

Y/N and Lewis Hamilton have arrived at the Lusail International Circuit to prepare for the #QatarGP race tonight. The media has been informed by their respective teams that there will be no interviews or comments regarding the rumors about them. They will solely focus on their performance in this race.

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Source : @PopBase

Reportedly the famous spanish singer Úrsula attended the Formula 1 race at #QatarGP amidst fresh rumors among fans that she might be rekindling her relationship with Y/N. This comes after her recent divorce from the Hollywood actor last month.

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𝙏𝙤 𝙗�� 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙙 (in the next chapter)

If you like it, don't forget to like and reblog for me.

Cr.https://x.com/PopBase/status/1708629114025116047?s=20https://twitter.com/GridRivalhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b025AznQiGk&ab_channel=GQSportshttps://www.instagram.com/p/CyBimW-Ocyr/

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motorsportficexchange · 10 months ago

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The Summer Break Fic Exchange is back!

And it's open to all Motorsport fandoms including -

Formula 1 (and all the feeder series),

MotoGP (and all its feeder series),

Formula E,

IndyCar,

WEC.

It’s running on ao3 (since it will do all the matching for me :D)

If you would like to take part, please sign up on ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SummerBreakFics2024/signups/new

Gifts are to be:

A 1000 word fic (minimum, longer fics always welcome!)

Schedule:

Sign-up deadline: Friday 12th July at 11:59pm GMT+1

Requests sent out: Sunday 14th July at the latest

Finished fics submitted by: Sunday 18th August at 11:59pm GMT+1

Gift reveal: Friday 23rd August at ~10am GMT

Submissions:

All gifts are to be submitted through ao3

Be proud of your work! I don’t like seeing when writers say that their work isn’t any good, and it isn’t fair on the person receiving the gift.

Please do not publish gifts elsewhere until after August 23rd!

(The surprise is some of the fun!)

If there are any questions please send me a message either through this blog or through one of the contact options on my ao3 profile.

If you need an ao3 invite to take part, drop me a message and I’ll send you out an invite code!

#motorsport fic exchange #motogp fic exchange #f1 fic exchange #formula e fic exchange #please excuse the weird dates #it's to fit around my shifts lol

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motorsporteventscenter · 2 months ago

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Welcome to the Events Center!

Hi! We're Zoom and Lyn! We love community events, and want to help people connect with different events across motorsports to participate in and find new communities!

Below is our list of events, separated by category and next important date. We are searching manually, so if you do not see an event or create one yourself, please tag us or send us an ask so we can reblog and list the appropriate posts!

How Does It Work?

Each event is categorized in five different ways:

By activity category (what stage the event is at)

By ship or driver (links at bottom for separate posts)

By upcoming date (closest deadlines are at the top)

By motorsport tag (ex. #formula 1)

By event name tag (ex. #f1 big bang)

Events Open For Sign-Up:

Charlos Fest (Prompt Based: Submissions close Apr. 1)

Multiformula Fest (Prompt Based: Prompts due Apr. 13)

Marchtian (Daily Post: Posting Mar. 1 - Apr. 20)

That Trope You Hate (Prompt Based: Works due May 1)

2024 Formula One Divorce Fest (Prompt Based: Prompts claims close May 18)

Max Fest (Open Event: Works due May 31)

F1 Big Bang (Writer/Artist Sign-Ups close June 14)

Fernando Fest (Open Event: First check-in June 15)

Upcoming Events:

FormulaGender (No date yet)

4433 Week (Daily Post: Posting begins Apr. 14)

Simi Week (Daily Post: Posting begins July 14)

BearCon Party (Daily Post: Posting begins Aug. 11th)

Events in Progress:

All available events are still accepting sign-ups!

Year Long Events:

Simi Fest (Bingo: Works due Dec. 31)

Carlando Prompt Fest (Prompt Based: no deadline)

Past Events:

Drivers Ship Centric

Recently Finished (in the past month)

F1 FemSlash Fest

F1 Throwback February

Roll the Dice RPF Smut Fest

Formula Mpreg Fest

Carlando Winter Break Exchange

F1 Rare Pair Fest

There’s Only One You 2025

F1 Playlist Fic Exchange

Simi Exchange

Formula E 2025 Spring Break Exchange

Formula 1 Graphic Challenge

#motorsporteventcenter #masterlist

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totothewolff · 1 year ago

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Grand Prix Elite Academy (3/10)

+18 | professor!Toto x reader fem!student, sewis, carlos x reader, collegue au | romance, smut, comedy, gossip, betray

Summary: Your life turns 180 degrees after receiving your acceptance letter for the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the most exclusive and prestigious Formula One College, designed to shape the future drivers of the motorsport world. You will try to navigate your new life among the Monaco elites, survive the campus dynamics and rivalries between the faculties, and try to win this year's Elite Cup to beat an undefeated Mercedes, all while befriending your eclectic classmates, join the wild parties, have a couple of make-outs under the racing circuit benches, lose your v-card and get over that stupid crush you have on professor Toto. Will you make it alive to graduation? Race to Greatness! Author's note: This is a Formula One college AU fic set in an elite academy in Monaco, where the F1 Teams are Faculties, their Team Principals are professors, the FIA is the college board, and all the grid drivers are your classmates. You are accepted under a scholarship program called WomenOne and have lots to catch on to after years of putting your racing dreams on hold. Becoming the outcast new girl is always challenging, especially when all of you live on one campus.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter > Chapter 3: Know Your Frenemies

When you finally make it back to your dorm room after a physically exhausting day, fuck that new workout class sure is intense!

To your dismay, you find the place in total chaos: expensive-looking designer clothes everywhere and a group of stylish people occupying all the space. Shoes, makeup kits, bags, and more are on all available surfaces.

Who are these people, and what are they doing here? You have NO IDEA.

But, gosh! You only wanted quietness to rest and decompress, not this circus you are surprised with when you open the dorm's entrance door.

Soon, you find out it's Naya's glam squad. They are polishing the details for her upcoming Teen Vogue photoshoot.

The two of you couldn't be more opposite.

One of their team members confused you with a delivery person as you walked in since they ordered takeout, which is rude!

Then Naya introduces you to them, but no one seems to pay you more attention than necessary as you close the door and cross the common ground to your room; not even a nice meeting you! gets exchanged.

Fucking rude, they are the intruders here!

About an hour later, you sense Naya sliding the large glass door to the balcony where you are, the one facing the sea.

You are sitting on one of the patio armchairs, enjoying the nightly fresh ocean breeze, finishing your "Further Math" essay, and enjoying a snack to help you not fall asleep. It indeed was a long day!

—You shouldn't be eating that crap! —Naya scolds you and gives a judging look at your bag of Cheetos as she pulls it out of your hands and into the bin, leaving you with just one in your hand. —If you want to make it into one of the good faculties, you need to stop eating this shit and start getting in shape!

Ouch, that last one hurt.

—Anyways, sorry about the chaos —Naya gives you the world's slightest smile. Human emotions aren't her thing, apparently.

—I get it. You are a superstar, so no worries.

—and I'm sorry about your mom; I lost mine too, in a different way, divorced parents; I never see her —Naya continues.

You get taken out by that comment, and by your clueless expression, she adds: —Torger told me about it —Naya explains. —Also, the part where you called him entitled rich man —a silence break comes along. —Girl!

—He was acting pretty rude!

—Maybe you took it to heart. Of course, it's a delicate subject, but Torger understands. He lost his father in the same way. He is just a very straightforward person!

—It doesn't give him the right. Please don't justify him.

—Maybe you are still too thin-skinned. Would you prefer it if Torger had told you mid-fly that the plane would crash or warned you beforehand? He did what he considered best for you.

—To act like an asshole?

—To be open honest with you. Frankly, it's a rare value around here.

—So I should be thankful to him, then? —you look at Naya and are now annoyed at her, too.

This is none of her business.

—No, I'm just saying you should think more before opening your mouth next time. It's just friendly advice; not all principals are as patient as him; under a scholarship, you don't want a report or get in trouble —Naya finishes the conversation with that before fondly patting your shoulder and informing you she is going to bed.

The breakfast buffet at the cafeteria is the most impressive one you have ever seen. There's just so much food!

Since it's about 6 am, Charles is sleeping, sitting next to you, head on the table, wearing a red dri-fit hoodie, not being hungry at all.

After around fifteen minutes of sharing breakfast with your new friends at the long table, you are impressed to see how much Lewis eats.

—How many more avocados are you going to eat? —you ask him with wide eyes.

Lewis mumbles something, mouth full of food that you interpret as "three more."

—Even his metabolism is fast! —Carlos jokes, finishing his bowl of berries.

As you all catch up about each other's weeks, you tell them about the Toto incident.

—I mean, it is private, isn't it?! Why Naya has to know about it?! It was a private conversation! —you mumble as you violently smash your scrambled eggs around and ask Leandra to pass you the bread before leaving it on the table again. —Why am I eating carbs?! Jesus!

They all look at you with funny expressions. Carlos tries so hard not to laugh. —You look so cute when in a crisis! —he lets you know, smiling fondly at you. Those sweet, damn big Bambi eyes make your mornings better.

—Nothing is private between those two. —Seb lets you know, looking nonchalant as if this is a common thing that happened, and as he bites the slice of avocado Lewis' is offering with his fork to his mouth.

Something clicked in Lewis's head at the sound of Toto's name. Purposely, he ignored the entire conversation and, for sure, the fact that Naya is now part of your life, not precisely by choice.

—Shit, Y/N! Right! What's your student PIN? I'll text you the invite —Lewis asks you suddenly and a bit out loud. Seconds later, after you two exchange information, a new DM pops up in your GPEA app.

It's a link to an IP address website; you enter it, and a fancy and cool as fuck video shoot, professionally shot and styled of Lewis as half a demon and half an angel, shows up along with a digital invite.

Of Saints and Sinners

Which one are you?

A Lewis Hamilton Birthday Party

Saturday 7th, 1:00 am, Buddha-Bar Monte-Carlo

Follow etiquette attached

Admission reserved

RSVP

You download the unique access QR code generated to be admitted to the party. It is attached with an agreement on the dress code for the party and all the logistics info in case you arrive there by yacht, helicopter, or car.

This is a lot! Ordinary people just text you the address and hour of their parties. God, now you are in desperate need of Leandra to hook you up with a nice outfit.

Lewis tells you, in case you need clarification on the website: —My birthday party is next week, and you are invited.

—All his parties are iconic —Leandra adds while refilling her green juice.

—And super exclusive —Lewis takes pride in it. —But I know many people, so don't expect a small gathering!

—People kill for that access QR code he just sent you —Sebastian states.

—Then thank you so much for inviting me! —you say wholeheartedly, and Lewis sweetly smiles back at you.

—Jesus, a lot of me is on display! —you let out as you look at your reflection in the large mirror in Leandra's dorm room while you stare at you behind.

Never in your life have you worn such a short skirt and such high heels. Leandra is thinner than you, so her two-piece white Miu Miu mini-skirt glittery see-through dress is even shorter on you, barely covering your ass, and because you are wearing the tiny matching panties, a lot of skin going on for you.

But she looks so delighted by how you are pulling the outfit.

—What?! You look so good; all boy's eyes will be on you —she reassures you as she continues applying bronzer on your cheeks and doing the final touches.

—Yes, because all of me is out and about!

Your hair looks so voluptuous and shiny, and you are so in love with it! You had no idea it could look like that! The two of you are finishing getting ready for Lewis' party, and "Angel" obviously suits you better.

—Oh, come on! Don't be such a prudest! —by looking at your hesitant and bit insecure look, Lea adds. —But I can give you one of Charles' Rick Owens white pants if you feel more comfortable wearing them on top instead of the skirt; you can slay that look, too.

—Hilarious —you say sarcastically.

—No, seriously, sometimes I wear Charles' pants. He is really petite!

—Oh, good to know in case I have a no-pants crisis!

You both laugh aloud.

—That's it, my masterpiece is complete —she informs you as she slowly steps away and looks you over.

You turn to take a complete look at your outfit, hair, and makeup. You look like a doll in the most flattering and sexy way!

—WOW

—Yeah, wow.

—I feel like I should pay you! I owe you one, bestie.

Leandra waves her refined hand at you, dismissing your comment.

Lea looks like the hottest demon you will not sell but gift your soul to. She is rocking a Vivian Westwood skin-tight, latex, corset mini dress that fits her silhouette perfectly, accentuating her curves, irs bright red with Victorian details, making her boobs look bigger and better than ever, along with iconic platform heels and genuine pearls necklaces; her hair is sleekly style up.

—Let's mother off that party! —she lets out loud and clear as she picks up her purse and starts checking its contents. —CHARLES! WE ARE READY! CHARLIEEE! —no answer came —I hate it when he puts the headphones on; I'm sure he is playing the electric drums again! I will get him!

You two exit her room to their common grounds when you notice you left your power bank at your dorm and want to scream at the clouds.

—FUCK!! Lea, I'm going to my room to pick up my junk!

—WHAT? —she screams at you from afar. —WAIT!

As she returns to your side now with Charles, he looks you up from all angles, nodding his head non-stop. —I approve! —he gives you a thumbs up.

You laugh and blush at this interaction. —I forgot my fucking power bank and didn't charge my phone like the idiot I am; we need to go quickly to my room.

—Sure, that's no problem. We still have time, but move it, people! —Leandra starts pushing you two out and turning off the lights on your way out.

—Let me guess!! Leandra came up with the "Like a Virgin" concept for your outfit. It suits you —Naya tells you from the couch, where she reads a novel in a comfy-looking outfit as you exit your bedroom with a charger and power bank in hand.

Your eyes widen at her words. Shit, she hit a sensible spot. How does she keep doing that?!

She senses you tensing. —Wait! Are you?! Are you still a? Are you a virgin?!

You go red as fuck. Naya looks astounded.

—Oh, I was messing around, I didn't know. I didn't mean it! You look good, Y/N. Well, then, you really need that angel to go down to hell. Have fun!

The desperate need you feel now to ask her, "Hey, you aren't going?" starts to overpower you. Now that she knows an intimate detail about you, you want to know one about hers. But for sure, she already noticed you became close to Lewis; she is not dumb enough to fall for it and spell out what happened.

—I will, thanks. See you!

The limousine Lewis sent to pick up all his GPEA friends stops before you three. You are the last ones to get on it.

The looks everyone gives you as you get in are priceless. Max eyebrows go almost to the roof of the car. —You almost made my nose bleed —he jokes, but he is a bit pinkish on the cheeks. —You look gorgeous.

—You look like a fairy who works as a hooker —Pippa tells you fondly. It's pretty accurate.

To Yuki's amusement, Lando dramatically drops himself on the car floor to pretend to kiss your feet.

Charles throws himself over Max to annoy him and starts messing Max's hair around, acting all stupid before the first round of shots. Dances, alcohol, and Inna's old hits songs turn up the mood of the road trip to Monte Carlo.

When you arrive at the venue, the waiting line of cars for the dropoff point is long, but it goes faster than expected, thanks to the partying inside the limousine.

You already feel a bit tipsy when you all hit the red carpet and start throwing poses and doing group photos.

Then you get the welcoming mezcal shots as one of the hot hostesses greets you.

The place is exotic and chic. The red walls match the décor, which features subtle mixtures of gilded moldings and ancient sculptures. The crowd is on fire as the welcoming DJ's set plays.

You make your way through the many hot-looking angels and devils, hand in hand with Lea, following her around, looking for Lewis to wish him a happy birthday before things spin out of control as the night goes on.

You find him sitting on a lounge sofa near a giant Budha statue with a beautiful blond girl in his lap, instantly making your blood boil, thinking about sweet Sebastian, and you feel you are about to protest when you give a second look and really pay attention.

As soon as she sees you, the girl gets on her feet and welcomes you with a warm hug.

—I'm glad you could make it with such short notice! —Seb greets you.

—Wow, you genuinely are a beautiful angel! No worries! You didn't think I was going to miss this? —you stare at him in awe. His entirely covered-in-crystals embroidered dress is stunning, and the high heels make him look even more like a Victoria's Secret angel. His makeup is on point!

—You look so good that you almost made me feel straight —Seb jokes with you, but he means it.

—Which is a lot to say! —Lewis jokes, reaching you two and wrapping Seb in his arms, placing a hand on his ass. —You look fine —he gestures to you with his hand to spin for him. —Like FINE!

—Happy Birthday! —Leandra and you interrupt him with a hug attack, giving him lots of kisses and throwing around him the golden confetti you brought especially to do this.

—Thank you, my girls! I will meet you later at your table. We still have some things to do, right baby? —Lewis lets you know while placing small and slow kisses on Seb's lips.

You aren't sure if it's sad or honest that the last party you had with these guys was the best party of your life. So naturally, you feel really excited about how the night will unfold.

—Damn, you two look good —Carlos lets out aloud, biting his lip while peeking.

Carlos is bare-chested and wearing a red harness around his shoulders. His skin is glowing, his hair is messy and wet, and his tight satin red pants suit him nicely.

You can't avoid the tingle you feel at how crazy hot he looks.

—Close your mouth —Leandra jokes with you. —Thank you, Carlos. It's the new squats routine that hottie has made me do; speaking of him, have you seen the trainer around? I'm not losing my off-campus shot with him; I have had my eye on him since day one.

—Yes, he is on that table near the exit —he points Lea where. —He came as the porniest angel you could picture.

—Mmm, delicious, those tiny shorts make him justice —Leandra follows the trainer with his gaze before letting you know she will meet you later.

—We are about to light up some in case you want to join us —Carlos offers you, but you politely decline. —I will meet you at our table then —he kisses your cheek very close to your mouth. You don't protest, and you look him walk his way to Charles and Max.

To your good fortune, as soon as you reach your table, you want to throw yourself out the window. Spread there on the curved sofa, to your delight, is Toto wearing a see-through wine red shirt, leaving non to the imagination, with tailored matching red pants and pointy porny shoes.

Good-ass, expensive men's shoes make you weak in the knees.

That devil turns you into a worshiper.

Toto has his eyes set to the side, looking over the party, looking bored by being alone at the table; it seems you two are the first to arrive.

When you start to feel the need to run away, he then turns his head around, probably sensing your eyes on him, and looks straight at you.

You aren't sure if the welcoming mezcal shots are playing tricks on your mind or if he totally scanned your every corner with his eyes.

You feel your cheeks going red as you shyly try to sit in the opposite extreme, trying not to reveal far more of yourself than you should. You try to sit as far away from Toto as possible, which is not that far since it is a small arched sofa.

—Hi —his deep voice greets you as the waiter in charge of your table approaches you two.

—Can I offer you guys something to drink?

Toto, with a devilish smile on his face, grins at the sexy waitress. —We will have whatever she has been drinking before getting here —he then turns to you.

—Ahem —you look at him blankly, a bit taken out.

—You have a reddish tint on your cheeks, but it's different from when you blush, so it must be the alcohol. I like the other better —Toto says.

That makes sense, but at the same time, it doesn't at all, so he pays you attention, huh? —I have been drinking the delicious mezcal you have been offering around —you answer looking directly at the waitress.

—Mezcal, it is, then —Toto addresses her, and she goes to get the bottle. —Feeling more at home now, Y/N?

—Yeah, it's been unbelievable.

—That's good, you little angel with wings and all.

You turn a bit to give him a better look at the golden sparkling mesh wings Pippa gave you. —It was a last-minute touch; my friend Pippa thought the wings suited me better than hers. She said they are more in-

—More innocent looking, yeah, you have that aura on you.

The waiter then returns, placing the bottle of mezcal on the metallic golden coffee table in front of you, along with a plate with tablespoons of salt and a line of small glasses filled with different juices. You have no idea what all that is for.

Toto then slowly slides on the couch to move next to you and explain, closing the distance between you and offering you what looks like concentrated orange juice.

—These are to spice the flavor of the mezcal. You sip them after drinking the mezcal to create a blend on your palate. Try it.

And you do. You start taking the mezcal and the juice a bit too much, and quickly, Toto stops you, placing his hand on your glass, preventing you from going all in.

—It's just a bit! For to be able to taste it! —He chuckles at the funny "Oh! Fuck!" expression you are doing. —Okay, I will do the same one. I will show you how.

Then, you two move on to the following five, having lots of fun.

To Toto's amusement, the last one tasted way too lemony, and acid made you shrug your nose and make faces. He starts laughing at your expense and showing that he is tipsy, too.

You now are walking on drunk territory.

—Stop it —you say, messing around and hitting Toto's bicep with your hand before your senses return and remember Naya's advice. Oh shit!— I'm sorry —you immediately change your tone and get serious, which he instantly picks up.

He comes closer to whisper in your ear. —We are off campus, don't worry —making all the tiny hairs in your neck stand up.

Then, you two move to the salts.

He places a tiny bit on the back of your hand. —Lick it —he instructs you, and you obey, feeling his eyes burning with every move of your tongue; you can't avoid it and dare to gaze straight at him as you slowly lick the spices.

It feels too intimate.

Then, completely surprising you, he licks the remaining salts out of your hand, his wet tongue making contact with your soft skin so that you don't waste them, and he is able to taste them, too.

And now it is your turn to do so, as he offers you the remaining salts in his hand. You feel Toto's warm skin under your tongue, and you can sense a bit of his knuckles and veins as you slowly slide, letting all the flavors into your system.

Suddenly, the lights dim, pinching your bubble and signaling the start of the much-anticipated live performance.

The guests quickly hush, moving their attention to the stage, where Lewis emerges from laser lights and a cloud of white smoke.

Wearing a dazzling white suit embroidered with rhinestones that seem to glow in the spotlight while wearing a smirk on his face, his brown eyes scan the crowd before grabbing the mic and screaming: —Let's dance this fucker off! —Lewis starts to jump energetically around while Gesaffelstein starts playing his set, making everyone go wild.

—Is that who I think it is? —Mick points out.

—What the fuck is Nico doing here? No way Lewis invited him —Lance answers.

—No way he sneaked in —Mick snaps back.

—You are right, but I can't believe it.

—What? That he had the nerve to show up dressed like an angel? —Mick jokes while rolling his eyes to the blonde.

Carlos comes to your table to steal you to the dance floor. Dancing the mezcal away makes you go back to your senses. As a new track unfolds, and you two move around, you look back at your table and notice Toto enjoying your moves from afar since lots of you is on display with every cadence.

When the group finally gathers, Leandra proudly lets you know she got fucked the hardest she has ever been fuck; the trainer was as good as she expected him to be. For sure, the entire bathroom, if not the whole club, heard her moan.

Then everyone starts to pass around a glass with an almost neon blue liquor, to which everyone sips a bit; you go for it, too.

After that you aren't sure how the rest of the night proceeded.

Still, you know you had a blast, as flashes of you dancing with Mick on top of the sofa, trying Seb's long hair blonde wig in the girl's bathroom while doing poses and snapping pictures with him in the mirror, Carlos telling you you make the hottest blonde, losing a heel somewhere, taking a shot that was placed between Pipa's tits, breaking a fight between two girls over Lando and more happenings come back to you.

At some point in the night, all goes blurry and kaleidoscopic; until you feel a warm embrace, a strong pair of arms picking up your body and feeling it pressured against a firm body as a warm touch in your ass holds your skirt in place, carrying you into the limousine where Charles and Leandra are as unconscious as you.

And Toto's dark eyes, that's the last thing you remember.

The following day, you all feel like trash.

You and Leandra are on Charles' bed, the three of you gathered there with the AC on to the lowest setting and the blackout curtains closed, like vampires rejoicing in the cold, wet dark.

Several empty bottles of electrolytes are lying on the floor in your attempts to hydrate again to feel better.

After sleeping, only God knows how many hours, you hear your stomach roar violently. —We should order takeout —you say in the roughest voice ever.

—Tai? —Lea proposes.

—Like noodles, or what?

As soon as you say that, Charles gets on his feet at the speed of light and storms off to the bathroom, barely making it. You two overhear him puking the life out of him.

Poor baby.

After spending Sunday on total repair, Monday feels like a brutal awakening, back to the routine and classes.

But something feels different this time; as you cross the gardens and navigate the hallways, you sense a lot of gazes set on you on your way to the main hall, making you feel paranoid.

"Okay, you need to calm down, girl."

But when you notice the whispering, you know something is not okay, and you find out what it is as soon as you reach your locker.

A sign welcomes you: "Is the sad rag looking for a sugar daddy? That's not such angelic behavior for this virgin." The sign is printed along with a crop-out photo of you licking Toto's hand. The picture is zoomed in, so there are no faces for the moment, just hands and tiny bits of your costume from that night.

You start to hyperventilate and panic and jump at the contact on your shoulder. You sense Sebastian next to you, reaching closer to comfort you.

—Everything is going to be okay. Easy. Breathe —Seb softly tells you.

When you two turn around to leave for class, you notice the couple of blondes standing by the end of the hallway, looking at you.

—It's always them, isn't it? —you let out between tears and rage.

—Yes —it's all Sebastian lets out, throwing daggers at them.

Great! Now, the entire academy knows you are a sad virgin who longs for an older man. Awesome. To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Thank you for your patience and for sticking around! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. By the way, I edited a lot of the previous chapters! If you feel like reading them again, I strongly suggest it. A couple of things changed, but nothing too major, tho. Sorry! This story needed a bit of an edit.

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