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xxblairexxss · 1 year ago

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A fresh start

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader

Theme : Angst, fluff

Word count : 4.2k

Part 2

Requested!

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!

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"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."

Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.

"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"

"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"

"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.

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"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.

"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.

"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.

"She just joined the team."

"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.

"Y/N!" Joris called out.

"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.

"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"

"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.

"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.

"I can figure that one myself!"

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"Charlie!"

"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.

"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.

"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.

"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.

"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.

"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."

Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.

"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.

"This will be your..."

Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.

"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"

Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–" Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."

"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."

"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.

"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."

He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."

"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"

"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid

"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"

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"Mommy, look!"

You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"

"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.

"A moustache? Is that a cat?"

"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"

"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"

"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"

"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.

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"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"

"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"

"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.

"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"

Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"

"Adam!"

The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.

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"Mommy!"

You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.

"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.

You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.

"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.

"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"

"Yes!" he squealed.

You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”

"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.

"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"

His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."

"Bye, Charlie!"

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"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.

"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"

"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.

"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.

"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"

"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.

"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"

"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"

"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."

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"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.

"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.

"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.

"No."

"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"

"Mommy only goes on a date with me."

"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.

"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.

"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.

"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"

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"Charlie hurt?"

"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"

Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.

Until you heard a knock on the door,

"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.

"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.

"Why didn’t you come to see me?"

"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.

"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."

To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"

"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.

"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."

You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"

"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.

"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.

"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.

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"Go! Open the door!"

"I can’t. Give me a second."

"Why?"

"I’m nervous, buddy."

"I’ll open it for you!"

"No, no!"

You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.

"Mommy?"

"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.

"Go, Charlie!”

"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"

"Y/N. Actually–"

"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.

The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?

And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.

"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.

"Would you go out on a date with me?"

You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“

"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.

"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.

"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."

He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"

"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.

"And what’s wrong with that?"

"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles."

He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."

"How did you get his permission?"

You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."

Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.

"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.

"Fine. Just one date."

To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."

"Sure, I’ll send you the address."

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"Be nice to Joris, alright?"

"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"

Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."

"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"

Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.

Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.

"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.

"It’s none of your business. Please leave."

"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.

"Leave, please."

"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.

"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.

"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.

"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.

You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.

"Y/N? Are you crying?"

You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."

"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"

"I–" You sobbed again.

"She wants you to leave, kid."

Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"

"I’m her husband."

You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.

Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."

"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.

"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.

"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"

"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."

"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.

"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.

Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.

"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."

"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.

It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.

But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.

"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.

"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.

"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.

"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.

"How long?"

"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.

"You didn’t report to the police?"

"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.

"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."

"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.

"You still owe me a proper date?"

"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.

"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."

"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.

"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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quickmotorstore · 2 years ago

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Fairly Used Truck Tyres, Rubber Truck Tires, Truck Tyres and New Tires

#new tires near me #best place to buy tires #best tire deals #michelin truck tires #cheap used tires #mud tires for trucks #cheapest place to buy tires #best all terrain truck tires #new and used tires #continental truck tires #commercial tyres

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megalony · 3 months ago

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Exploding Emotions

As promised, this is the new Evan Buckley imagine I have been working on, I am very happy with this one and I hope you will all like it.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: While out on a call, an accident gives (Y/n) flashbacks to the night her husband got trapped beneath the fire truck and what happened to her while he was stuck.

Enjoy.

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"Okay, what have we got?"

The team clambered out the truck one by one, each sorting their gloves and reaching for their helmets while they followed after Bobby. The Captain led them away from the truck and towards the scene they were here to assist.

(Y/n) could feel her legs starting to ache and she was beginning to lag behind. This was their fifth call and they weren't even halfway through their shift yet, and they had come here straight after their last call. They hadn't been back to the station for a drink or a snack or had a moment's peace.

Added to the fact that this was an evening shift, (Y/n) felt like dropping down here and now in the middle of the road.

She shrugged on her florescent jacket and stood near Ravi, looking out at the scene.

Each of them could feel their shoulders sagging and a grimace flooded their faces in turn when they looked around.

A lorry had crashed at an intersection. The large metal lorry was now on its side right in the centre, with a mangled up car resting in front of the bonnet. There were at least four other cars scattered around who had either crashed together, hit posts or swerved and burst a tyre trying to get out of the firing line.

"Hen, Chim, head for the lorry and the collision car in the centre, those drivers will be the worst off. Everyone else, fan out around. If anyone can walk, guide them to safety and get them off the scene."

Bobby's orders fell upon deaf ears when (Y/n) looked at the scene ahead of her.

The hairs on the back of her neck started to prickle and stand on end as a cold shiver passed through her blood. She could feel her lungs tightening and closing up and her eyes zoned in on the lorry.

It was the same crimson shade as the fire truck. Those bright headlights were shining in her direction, they were calling out to her.

It looked just like the scene over a year ago that (Y/n) had to endure watching over the news.

The scene that tore out her heart and made her feel like she was witnessing the end of the world with no way of helping. Being a firefighter meant it was in (Y/n)'s nature to help people. She wasn't used to sitting back and watching from the sidelines, unable to do anything at all. And when it had involved the one person who meant the entire world to her, everything else had become insignificant.

Dread clawed at (Y/n)'s lungs as she felt herself beginning to shake. It felt like a decade had passed since that night, but standing here, staring ahead at that crumpled lorry in the middle of the road, in the dead of night, (Y/n) suddenly felt as if the last year had evaporated into dust.

She felt like she had been transported back one year with her wish of being able to be on scene and do something to help. To look after Evan and get him out.

Was he there? Was Evan laid out on the concrete with one leg practically split apart and a hundred tons of metal crushing down on him? Was he pinned to the floor, unable to move in any direction? Was he screaming until his lips were blue and his lungs were on the verge of giving out? Was Evan in mass agony, violently screaming for someone to do something to help him when no one stepped forward to save him?

"(Y/n)? Everything okay?"

A quiet round of "He's not here," murmured beneath her breath, so quiet that her dad didn't catch a word.

But he could see by the faint, distant look in her constricted eyes and the trembling that set in her body that she wasn't here. She wasn't on scene with them, not mentally. Her mind had gone somewhere else and although he didn't know where, he could see she needed a few moments to come back to the present.

His eyes widened when he watched her suddenly stumble before she crashed down to her knees. Her arms were pinned around her waist with her head lolled to one side, but Bobby could see her eyes were intently focused on the scene ahead of them.

They couldn't see any of the number plates from this far away and there weren't any casualties yet or anyone they knew here on scene. So (Y/n) couldn't be panicking about having family or friends meddled up in this collision.

He hurriedly crouched down in front of her, moving his hands to hold her arms while he leaned his head to try and get within her line of sight. But even when he was in her view, it was like she was looking through him rather than at him. She wasn't here, she was lost.

"Honey, talk to me. Are you okay?"

Relief overtook Bobby when (Y/n) managed to nod her head. She could hear him. She hadn't collapsed in pain or mass agony, she wasn't having some kind of stroke or seizure or some sort of episode. Something was clearly going on, but it didn't seem to be a dire emergency.

Bobby couldn't be doing with any more emergencies. Not after this last year with Evan and all his operations on his leg and him and (Y/n) struggling to cope with those and a newborn baby. (Y/n) had only just come back to work from maternity leave while Evan's return to work date was still to be determined.

His daughter and son-in-law had been through enough.

"I just… I need- need a minute." Her voice sounded distant even to herself and she kept leaning her head to the right until she could look around her dad and stare back at the lorry that was looking more and more like a fire truck to her hazy eyes.

"You sit this one out, get back in the truck. I'll be back in five minutes, if you need help, radio through."

Bobby looked like he was going to try and help her up into the truck behind her, but she shook her head. She wanted to stay where she was, knelt down on the floor. She was okay, but she didn't have the willpower or the energy to get up yet. She couldn't move. She had to stay here.

He seemed dubious about leaving her, but (Y/n) clearly didn't want help right now and they were two men down with Eddie being on holiday and Evan currently off work. And if (Y/n) was sitting this call out, Bobby needed to get back out there and control the situation and help so they could be back at the station as soon as possible.

(Y/n) barely heard her dad whisper that he would be back soon and she tried to lean closer when he kissed her temple. His touch lingered for a few moments, giving away how badly he wanted to stay with her and truly make sure she was alright. But the faint smile she tried to muster told him she might just be okay for a few minutes while he got this scene under control.

All she could do was lean her shoulders back against the truck and close her eyes, but the image was still there. Those beaming headlights were aimed at her. They were shining on her, blinking at her, flashing for her attention and the light shone through her closed eyes that were illuminated into bright red lines. With the image of Evan burned into her cornias until the day she died.

The image of Evan laid out on his stomach, gloved fingers desperately clawing at the floor. Nails splitting apart beneath the gloves, fingertips wearing down and the skin rubbing off as he tried to prize himself free.

His lips, sodden with sweat and dirt and the odd speckle of blood, screaming until he was froffing at the mouth and his throat felt drier than the desert.

His eyes, shedding so manny tears he could have had his own ocean named after him. Red circles beneath his eyes, veins prominent in the whites of his eyes, cheeks glistening with little white tracks where tears had wiped through the dirt covering his face.

(Y/n) could hear those screams. She could see the blood creating a puddle beneath him. She could see people moving to lift the truck and she could hear the agony in her husband's shrieks when their team finally dragged him from the wreckage and prized him free too late for (Y/n)'s liking.

Tears began to streak down her own face before she could stop them and she found her trembling hands rattling through her inside jacket pocket, searching for her phone.

She had to make sure he was okay.

She had to call Evan.

She had to know he wasn't in danger.

To stop herself from staring at the scene ahead that was only inflating her panic and agony, (Y/n) snapped her eyes closed. She closed them so tightly pins and needles flooded her face and had her squirming from the tight pain ebbing away at her eyes. It didn't stop the tears from falling, but they were only silent tears of fading panic and old anguish she was trying to push away.

The line didn't ring for long and (Y/n) was suddenly overwhelmed. Usually when it didn't ring for more than three beeps it meant Evan's phone was switched off or he rejected the call because he was busy on a call. And if the line had rung and rung with no answer, (Y/n) wasn't sure what her panicked brain would do in that scenario.

"Hey baby, everything okay?"

Evan's voice was the calm after the storm. (Y/n) could feel more silent tears beginning to stream down her face when she listened to his lulling voice with that slight rough edge that implied he may have taken a nap with Lilah at some point tonight.

He wasn't quite used to being at home while (Y/n) was at work. It had been the other way around when (Y/n) took early maternity leave and Evan had been the one to call her while he was at work. Just so he could hear her voice or listen to how her day had been to take his mind off a rough or an oddly quiet shift.

He didn't like being the one stuck at home, not able to do his job. But now he didn't have a pot running from his toes midway up his thigh, it was easier to be at home. No one had to be here helping him hobble about the house, he didn't need (Y/n) to help him wash or help him up out of bed and down the stairs.

He didn't need Maddie coming round to babysit him and now he could walk- although with a limp for now- he could properly care for Lilah.

It crushed Evan to not be able to carry his baby girl or bathe her or take her for a walk when he had been on crutches. Seeing (Y/n) or Maddie or even Bobby come round and help with Lilah had been killing him. But now, until he was signed off for work, Evan was spending as much time as he could with his baby girl.

"Babe, you there?" There was a slight chuckle at the end of his words as if he thought (Y/n) may have called him by accident or not realised she was now on the phone to him.

"Hm."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah… just- just wanted to hear your voice." Her voice sounded steadier than she had hoped and it made her relieved. She didn't want to worry Evan unnecessarily and make him panic or think something was wrong.

Because nothing was wrong, not really. A moment of panic had now been quenched by the sound of Evan's voice. (Y/n) could carry on, she could pick herself back up and get out there and try to actually do her job and hope none of the team had noticed her lapse in concentration.

"Why, what's going on?" There was a softness to his tone and (Y/n) could just imagine him sat there smiling.

She wasn't going to worry him. There was no point when telling Evan why she had worriedly called him would only serve to upset him. And there was no way to open up that conversation and tell him she had a brief panic at the thought of his accident.

"Nothing, just missed you."

"You're sweet." He tilted his head back, sliding further down the sofa he was reclined on with both legs hanging over the other side. And he shuffled Lilah who was laid on his chest with her head just beneath his collar bone. "Who's on the phone? Is it mummy?"

He got a little babbling response, a jumbled sound that was drowsy and showed that the toddler was about to fall asleep at any moment. But it was enough to have Evan smiling as he kissed her temple and ran his hand up and down her back, holding his phone closer to his ear with the other hand.

"So, you're missing me, huh?"

(Y/n) allowed a smile to pull at her lips. She felt better already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(One year ago)

Lifting her head, (Y/n) looked up at Athena through blurry eyes when they both heard a knock at the door.

She reached her hand out to give her mum's hand a tight squeeze and the calming smile on Athena's face did wonders for (Y/n)'s raging nerves. They both had the same thought in mind. They both prayed it was Evan at the front door.

Athena leaned over to peck (Y/n)'s temple before she got up from the sofa and hurried out into the hall to open the door.

Just as Athena dipped out the room, (Y/n) leaned forward with one hand gripping the arm of the sofa and her other hand clutching at her stomach. she hunched over as much as she could until her stomach was pressing into her thighs and her head was tilted down.

God, these contractions were going to be the death of her.

A quiet groan burned at the back of her throat and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes but she willed them away. She couldn't be crying yet, not when she wasn't even fully dilated or at the point of pushing yet. But she couldn't help it.

She wanted Evan. She wanted him to come home.

She was two weeks away from her due date and had gone into labour right when Evan was in the middle of a night shift with the rest of the team. (Y/n) had been extremely lucky that when she rang her mum, Athena hadn't been on shift tonight. She had come straight over and when neither of them could get hold of Evan or Bobby, Athena called the next best person.

She rang Maddie who was on shift at dispatch and they kindly asked her to get the message across to the 118 that Evan would have to end his shift early. He needed to come home and be here when (Y/n) had their baby.

When the contraction subsided, (Y/n) let out a groan and started to rub circles along her stomach in the vain hope that it would take her mind off the budding pains. And the ache in her heart from not having Evan here. He promised to be here. He had been subtly whispering to her bump, telling the baby to make an appearance when Evan was home and that they had to wait patiently for him.

(Y/n) had playfully told Evan off two weeks ago when he had been talking to the baby and asked them to arrive promptly last week so Evan wouldn't have to go to dinner with his parents for his dad's birthday. It didn't happen. They all suffered through dinner together anyway. If (Y/n) went into labour then, at least Evan would have been by her side rather than on shift like he was now.

"Is- is that him?" (Y/n) tried to look over her shoulder but she couldn't see Athena in the hall from where she was sat in the living room.

But she couldn't hear voices either. Athena was speaking in hushed tones with whoever was at the door. That must mean it wasn't Evan, if it was he would have burst through the doors and found (Y/n) immediately.

With pursed lips set into a deep frown, (Y/n) reached across for the tv remote and promptly changed the channel. The stupid sitcom that had been on in the background was steadily getting on (Y/n)'s nerves. The gag lines were silly, the jokes weren't funny and the audience laughing was irritating her to no end.

She flicked through three channels, about to look through a few more until a headline on the late night news caught her attention.

LAFD Bombing.

Her head tilted to one side and her eyes narrowed as she watched the camera zoom in, clearly live recording from a helicopter hovering at the scene.

Someone had tried to blow up a fire truck. They were sectioning off the street while the fire brigade talked to the bomber who was actually on the scene. a few people had been hurt in the blast. Someone was trapped. One of the firemen was still stuck in the fire truck that had exploded on-route.

"We can't tell her-"

Maddie lost her train of thought and whatever she was about to say when a horrifying, gut-wrenching scream shook the walls of the house. She clutched the doorframe, her eyes locking with Athena as the pair of them bolted from the hall and into the living room.

It was too late.

More tears streamed down Maddie's face, despite the fact that she had been crying for over twenty minutes now since the news reel first started and showed her little brother in peril.

She had come straight over to help Athena take (Y/n) to hospital and be here with her while Evan couldn't. She had tried to explain what had happened, she didn't want (Y/n) to know. She didn't want her sister in law to panic or be in distress, not when she was already overwhelmed and in labour. But it seemed too late now.

Both of them scurried into the living room to find (Y/n) down on her knees in front of the coffee table. One hand gripping the table while the other clutched the tv remote close to her chest. She turned the volume up until all of them were wincing at the abrupt noises of the helicopter and the news reporters.

She had seen. (Y/n) had seen her husband, lying there on the floor with the entire fire truck crushing down on his leg.

No wonder he wasn't here already. He wasn't going to be here. Evan wasn't coming home, he was stuck. He was pinned down to the road like a fly trapped in a spider's web. Her husband was being crushed while she was splitting apart, about to have their first baby without him. There was no way Evan was going to be here to hold her hand or be by her side.

Did he even know she had gone into labour? Had he been told before this accident happened or was he still oblivious? What did it matter? Labour seemed insignificant compared to the horror Evan was going through.

Why were they broadcasting his anguish to the world?

"(Y/n)-"

"Oh honey."

A gurgling sob left (Y/n)'s lips as she pushed forward until her forehead was pressing down on the edge of the coffee table harsh enough that it was going to leave a mark soon.

When she felt Athena and Maddie reaching out for her, she roughly shook them off, but it wasn't like she could move very far. Not when her aching knees were now glued to the carpet and her stomach was tightening with every passing second.

"He- he's hurt!" The urgency in (Y/n)'s voice took Athena by surprise and only made fresh tears pour down Maddie's face.

This is what she had been afraid of. She had been worried about (Y/n) finding out and sending herself into a state of distress which wouldn't do her or the baby any good. She had hoped to keep (Y/n) ignorant and try to tell her that Evan had been caught up in a situation at work. Maybe tell her there was a bomber out there and the team were trying to diffuse the situation. She thought it would be easier to tell (Y/n) once she'd had the baby or once Evan was taken to hospital, whatever happened first.

"They're going to look after him, he'll be okay." Maddie looped her arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders and gently reeled her sister in law into her chest. She pecked the top of (Y/n)'s head and tried to rub her hand up and down her back, but she could see she wasn't helping very much.

Sobs continued to wrack (Y/n)'s body that was now trembling and when she reeled up, she looked back at the tv which was now zooming in on her husband's peril.

Showing Evan in all his anguish and agony, bright red in the face, spit dribbling down his chin as he screamed. Hands clawing at the road to try and drag himself free to no avail.

"Why isn't someone helping him?!" The words tore past (Y/n)'s lips with a violent scream before she launched the remote in her hand far across the room. Watching with anger and disgust as the remote hit the wall, rebounded into a picture frame and knocked it to the floor.

The shattering glass somehow made (Y/n) feel a little better. Something else other than her and Evan was shattering.

Why wasn't there someone knelt down beside her husband, telling him everything was going to be okay? Why wasn't someone holding his hand? Why was no one trying to move the truck and free her husband? How could they just stand back and leave him there like that, allowing the camera to get a closer view than the rest of them? That wasn't fair. They couldn't leave him in agony like that.

"We have t-to help him. I need to be there- be there with him." Each word came out with a hitched breath until (Y/n) was barely breathing and reduced to panting and gasping instead.

She moved her hands to the coffee table and tried her best to push up from where she was knelt on the floor. But both her legs were shaking and the moment she was on her feet, a cry errupted from her lips and her hands cupped her stomach that was twisting in agony.

She felt Athena rush to grab her arm and steady her and she allowed herself to lean into her mum's touch, letting Athena hold up some of her weight.

"Honey, we need to go to the hospital, these contractions are getting closer." Athena shakily brushed her free hand along (Y/n)'s cheek and leaned over to kiss her temple. (Y/n) was like another daughter to her. Since the moment she married Bobby, she had taken (Y/n) in as her own like Bobby had grown close to May and Harry.

She hated to see (Y/n) in distress like this much the same as she couldn't look at the tv and see Evan be trapped beneath that truck.

"No. No, I w-" She broke off with another cry as Maddie reached out for her waist to stop her from going back down on her knees. "Evan! He needs us."

Maddie couldn't stop her lower lip from wobbling and she sucked in a deep breath, doing her best to stop from bursting into another fit of tears. How could any of this be happening? How could her little brother be stuck in peril like that? How could (Y/n) be in labour at the exact same moment? How could they be separated in a moment where they should both be together? When they had both been planning to do this as one since the moment they found out about this baby.

"Buck has the team with him to look after him, and he wouldn't stand for you having his baby in the middle of the street, now would he?" The firm tone to Athena's voice made (Y/n) shiver and feel like she was a child being told the rules of the game.

Her head fell onto Athena's shoulder and a low whine passed her lips as she began to cry.

"Your dad is there with him, I'll call him when we're at the hospital to find out what's happening. And as soon as Buck is at the hospital with us, we can sort everything out. But we need to get you to the hospital to look after you and this baby."

"Buck will be taken to the hospital soon, better to be there waiting for him than stuck in traffic trying to reach him, hm?" Maddie's words made sense and seemed to calm down one of (Y/n)'s many erratic nerves.

The roads would be gridlocked. They had to get going now and it was lucky that Athena had sirens in her car so she could override the traffic that would undoubtedly be on the streets.

Rather than trying to get to Evan, by which time he could be transported to the hospital, they may as well get there first and wait for him. (Y/n) could be seen by the midwife, her and the baby would be safe and as soon as Evan was there, they would find out what was happening and get news of if he was alright or not.

They would wait for him at the hospital. And (Y/n) would try and hold on as long as she could. She didn't want this baby on her own, she wanted to know Evan was okay.

She wanted to see him before she gave birth.

***

"Why don't we sit down-"

"No."

Both (Y/n)'s hands planted down on the bed in front of her. Her lower back arched out and she leaned forward until her legs were ready to cave in beneath her and give way. Her knees were trembling. Her arms were rattling against the bedframe. She wanted to be sick.

She had shed so many tears she could have a river named after her. Both eyes were puffy and begging for rest, for a moment to sleep or fall closed and recover and to stop crying, but (Y/n) didn't know how. She didn't know how to stop crying when she could see her husband in dire distress, but she couldn't do anything to help him.

She didn't want to sit down, (Y/n) didn't want to be here in the first place. She changed her mind as soon as they arrived at the hospital. She wanted to turn round and go find Evan, she wanted to be there with him, to talk to him and tell him that she was here. She was nearby and she wanted him to know she wanted to help but she just didn't know how.

Another cry tumbled past her lips as her hands fisted in the bedsheets. She wasn't sure whether it was Maddie or Athena who was reaching out for her, but she didn't care. Their gentle touches and vain attempts to get her to move from her crouched position weren't working.

When the pain finally wore off, (Y/n) lifted her head and looked up at the tv in the corner of the room.

The news reel was playing. (Y/n) had been glued to watching any screen she could, looking at any monitor that was recording the live event and giving her a view of her husband in turmoil.

People had finally started to move to try and help him. Evan was no longer sprawled out on the floor on his own, in mass agony, with no way of getting himself free. The rest of the team had managed to pull themselves together and were trying to move the truck. As if any of them could lift that ten ton of steel and and equipment and oversized engine.

"How are we doing in here?" The same midwife who had showed them in peeked her head round the door. She had been doing regular checks and kept trying to insist (Y/n) try to sit and calm down because this was doing her blood pressure and the baby's heartbeat no favours. But (Y/n) wasn't in any fit state to listen.

(Y/n) didn't bother answering, she kept her gaze intently focused on the tv. She couldn't believe Evan hadn't passed out by now and she couldn't believe no one had gotten him free yet.

If they'd of gotten him out by now he could have been in the hospital. (Y/n) could have been with him, she could of held his hand and promised him everything was going to be okay.

She wished there was a way to pause her body and stop labour until Evan was in a fit state to be here, but that wasn't possible.

When another pain hit, (Y/n) couldn't stop her knees from giving out on her and she crumpled down into a squatting position. She thrust more weight onto her arms, quivering through the pain as Maddie tried to stop her from kneeling on the floor and Athena's hands held onto her waist to try and coil her up.

"If you're pushing, we really need to get you on the bed." There was a sense of urgency in the midwife's voice and she got as close as she could considering Maddie and Athena were crowding her like bodyguards.

(Y/n) didn't have the willpower to argue with them anymore.

Her hands clawed at the bed once the pain wore off and left her cramping and aching and splitting apart in dull infrequent waves. It didn't feel good to be sitting down like it did to be crouching or pacing around the room. Pacing kept her mind busy and gave her something to do.

And (Y/n) was fearful that as soon as she sat down, she would progress further and have the baby without Evan, although that seemed inevitable now.

"I think you're ready, let's get settled to push, shall we?" The sympathy in the midwife's voice did nothing to settle the anguish in (Y/n)'s heart.

Her head began to shake and her lower lip wobbled as a horrid sob wracked her chest. This wasn't how things were supposed to play out. She was supposed to be safe at home with Evan when she went into labour. He was supposed to time the contractions and take her to hospital and hold her hand and help her through this.

He was supposed to be here making jokes and kissing her hand and telling her all the random facts about labour and kids that he had learned to go along with all the pregnancy facts he had been telling her the last few months.

Evan wasn't supposed to be stuck with their entire damn fire truck crumpling down on his leg and people desperately trying to set him free.

"I c- I can't have this baby yet-" Her head began to shake and she tugged on Athena's hand as if her mum could somehow do something to rectify this situation.

"Honey, you don't have much of a choice."

Maddie sat down on the left side of the bed and let (Y/n) deadlock their hands together. She reached out with her free hand and gently ran her fingers through (Y/n)'s damp, matted hair, brushing the strands away from her face as she herself was in tears once again.

She hadn't expected to be here when (Y/n) gave birth, she had expected to have the most overjoyed, hyper phone call from her little brother telling her when (Y/n) went into labour. And then another call to ask her to come down to the hospital once her niece or nephew was born.

But when she came along to bring (Y/n) down here, (Y/n) hadn't let go of her hand and Maddie took that as a silent hint that (Y/n) didn't want her to go. And she didn't want to go either. Maddie didn't want to go home and wait anxiously in vain for news of both (Y/n) and Evan.

She had to be here, whether that was in the room right now giving (Y/n) support or just sitting in the hallway waiting for news on either her or Evan. Being in here made Maddie feel useful and it was a distraction.

"You can push on the next contraction."

(Y/n) didn't reply, but she did as she was told and started to push. Her knees coiled up, she pulled both Athena and Maddie's hands towards her chest and she leaned forward as much as she could to see if it would help.

But she stopped, every part of her body going rigid and becoming tense as her head snapped up to the tv.

A small 'oh' left her lips before a round of "Evan!" croaked into the air causing the other girls to look up at the tv.

Dozens upon dozens of passers by in the street were pushing the fire truck. Everyone was leaning against it, forcing all of their weight onto the structure to try and get Evan free.

(Y/n) ignored the next contraction, droning out the midwife's nervous instructions and she tried not to push as she put all of her focus on the tv. Silent sobs wracked her lips and had her trembling back and forth as she watched Hen and Eddie reach out for Evan to try and pull him free, while every other civilian there pushed on the truck.

What hurt (Y/n) the most was seeing Evan scrape his hand against the road. He was trying to help. He had hundreds of pounds of metal crushing down on his leg, pinning him to the road, he was in more agony than he ever had been in his life. And there he was, trying to help get himself free, trying to drag himself along the road to make it easier on everyone else.

The news reporter was close enough that Evan's horrid scream of terror managed to get broadcast on the tv and (Y/n)'s only response was to cry his name through wet lips as another contraction hit and she started to push.

"He- he's free."

"They've got him, they've got him honey."

"He'll be okay now." Maddie leaned forward when (Y/n) dropped her head onto her sister's shoulder and Maddie kissed the top of her head, weaving her other arm around (Y/n)'s waist.

(Y/n) coiled her legs up tighter until her knees were pressing into her stomach and she pushed. Unable to stop herself from muttering Evan's name on a loop as if it was the only thing she could understand. She was almost there, she was about to have her baby in her arms, and the one person she wanted here with her was nowhere to be seen.

The news reel changed to a wider angle of the whole scene and the reporter switched back to someone in the studio. Evan was free, they weren't going to record the team getting him into an ambulance and racing him away from the scene. But he was free. He was free from the constraints of the fire truck and now he would be here within ten minutes, all being well.

But he was still going to miss the birth.

***

"We're here! Buck, we're here." Reaching down, Bobby gripped Evan's arm and did his best to try and smile, but he couldn't manage it. Not when he could see the damage done to his son in law's leg.

He could see the dramatic sight where skin and muscle had been split apart and the bone was visible. He could see breaks in the bone and splinters of bone pushing out at odd angles. He could see through the gauze that was moulding into Evan's wound from soaking up all the blood that the strap around his thigh couldn't cut off.

It didn't look good.

Both Eddie and Hen had been doing their best to make him comfortable on the ride down here, but it was hard. They couldn't give him any morphine, not when he was going to need X-rays and scans and an emergency operation. Morphine and anaesthetic didn't always mix well and Evan had a bad track history with medications causing severe reactions.

All they could give him was the gas and air tube to breathe through and although it had done nothing to take the edge off, Evan had been breathing it in since the moment they got him in the ambulance.

"Let's get you inside, you're gonna be just fine." Hen's voice was soothing, but Evan couldn't believe her words.

He didn't feel fine.

He didn't feel as if he was going to be fine or make a swift recovery from this.

He felt like he was going to be put under anaesthetic and wake up with one leg. He could feel each piece of tattered skin desperately trying to cling to his leg. He could feel his leg pulsing and aching from where the blood supply had been cut off mid-way down his thigh. Evan felt like his body was on fire, his leg was disconnected and each breath was becoming harder to take.

When Eddie reached across to try and take the gas and air tube from his grip, a deep growl emmited from Evan's lips and he clenched his hand tight around the tube.

He pulled the strange looking mask back to his lips and inhaled three fast, choked breaths. The tubes were always switched and cleaned out after every use, but Evan had a feeling they would have to bin this one. He had chomped down so hard on the tube that he had left puncture indents in the plastic.

"No! It f-fucking kills-"

"Buck, you can have more pain relief once you're inside, I swear. Mate please, please we have to move you now." Eddie felt horrible when he had to prize Evan's fingers from the gas and air and as soon as he let go, they clipped off the breaks and moved the stretcher.

Bobby leaned down and took Evan's hand once they all climbed down and Chimney rushed from the driver's seat. He held Evan's hand high to his chest as Evan started to thrash around on the gurney.

His chest stuttered up and down and repeatedly pushed back to the point the gurney was shaking and about to unlock and lower down. His free hand curled into a fist and slammed into the metal frame harsh enough to split some of the skin around his knuckles.

He was in agony. He needed it to stop.

"(Y/n). Have- have you- fuck. (Y/n)." Evan couldn't get his thoughts in order, the only thing in his head and the one word that could properly be muttered from his lips was his wife's name.

They had been on their way back to the station when the bomb hit. They had been going back specifically because Maddie came through the radio and said (Y/n) had gone into labour. That was the call Evan had been waiting for and dreading at the same time. He had been anxious about when (Y/n) would go into labour and if it would happen while he was at work.

He had been ecstatic. He had been bouncing in his seat, riding shotgun in the truck for the first time in ages and he and Bobby had been debating whether it would be a boy or a girl.

Now, Evan had no idea what was happening. He didn't know who was with (Y/n) or if she was alone right now. He didn't know if she was still home or if someone had taken her to the maternity ward. He didn't know if she was in agony, if anything had gone wrong, if she was having complications or sailing through labour without him.

Bobby tightened his hand around Evan's and leaned down so he could talk to him better because he knew Evan was now having a hard time concentrating and taking things in. Who wouldn't in his state?

"Athena and Maddie brought her to the hospital, once you're inside I'll go find them. She'll be okay."

While waiting for people to help get Evan free, Bobby had answered the third phone call from his wife. All he knew so far was they had brought (Y/n) in and labour was in full swing, they were just waiting for her to dilate. But his daughter was here and she was safe, that was all Bobby needed to know for now while he focused on looking after his son in law.

"I wa- I want-" Evan broke off into an animalistic howl when the gurney jolted over the threshold into the emergency room and the shock sent his leg jerking. Shockwaves rattled up and down his spine and both legs shook as if he had been electrocuted.

He lifted his head and shoulders, doing his best to sit up although he wasn't sure what he was doing, he just wanted to move.

He wanted the pain to stop.

Tears flushed down his face and a broken sob left his lips when he locked onto a familiar frame stood anxiously by the reception desk.

He could see his big sister stood with a bright red face, puffy eyes and tears streaked down her features. She had both hands interlocked in front of her in that panicked manner where she would scratch her nails along the back of her hands until they were rubbed raw. The moment she looked their way, it was as if a light had come and gone in her eyes all at once.

She ran across the floor and grabbed Evan's outstretched hand, pulling it up so she could kiss the back of his hand. Her fingers trailed up and down his arm and her lips wobbled, unable to hold back a sob when she looked at her baby brother who had been more of a son to her at times.

"Oh, oh Buck."

Evan let out another sob while the team paused the gurney in the hallway and Eddie moved to flag someone down. This was a dire emergency, they needed a doctor here now and they needed Evan taken to theatre before he lost his leg.

"W-where's (Y/n)?" Evan had spent the last few hours wondering what was happening with his wife, if she was okay, if he could be taken to her at some point.

He had tried arguing with Bobby on the journey down here, asking if he could see (Y/n) before he went for whatever surgery he was going to need. Of course Bobby said no, that wasn't going to be an option. Evan couldn't delay any form of treatment, not for a minute or an hour. He had to be taken straight to theatre.

"She's on the maternity ward."

"Is she-"

"She's fine… oh Buck, you've got a beautiful little girl." Maddie reached her hand out to brush her finger down his bloodied cheek as a broken smile formed on her lips.

But her smile faded into an open-mouthed, hollow frown when Evan's entire face fell. His jaw loosened and slacked like it had become disconnected, his eyes glossed over and his nose crinkled making him look like a snarling dog.

"I m- I missed it? I- oh God- Bobby-" The most horrid scream any of them ever heard erupted from Evan's lips and shook the walls.

He ripped his hand free from Maddie's hold, slammed his fist down into the frame of the gurney and writhed until he almost toppled off the gurney. He fought and thrashed against all the hands that pinned him down and ignored their panicked screams for a doctor.

He missed it.

He missed his daughter's birth. He hadn't been there. He promised (Y/n) he would be with her from the moment she went into labour to the moment their precious baby would be in their arms. He said he would do anything he could to be there and that he wouldn't let her down, and now, he had broken those promises.

He couldn't see (Y/n), he couldn't hold his daughter. He couldn't cut the cord or hold her for the first time the moment she was born. He wasn't going to see her on her birthday, if he was going for an operation he wouldn't be conscious or lucid enough to see her for another day, possibly two.

A chorus of exploding emotions erupted to life in his chest and wailed past his lips but it didn't feel like anyone was listening to him. And Evan was too far gone into his despair to hear anyone try to comfort him. He didn't want comfort. He wanted a time machine. Evan wanted the chance to go back and make sure this didn't happen.

He wanted to rewind time and sit in the back of the truck with the rest of the team so he could scramble out without being trapped. He wanted to get out of that truck unscathed and rush down to the hospital and hold his wife's hand as she gave birth to their daughter.

This wasn't fair.

Tortured screams left Evan's lips and (Y/n)'s name spat past his lips on repeat as the gurney began to move and hands continued to pin him down.

But the pain in his leg was nothing compared to the agony overwhelming his heart.

#imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #pregnant! reader #bobby nash #eddie diaz

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sserpente · 1 year ago

Text

By Chance

Synopsis: The very first time you meet Eddie the Freak Munson, it’s because you found his bracelet on the floor and decided to wear it, and he claims to have lost one just like that.

The second time you meet, he is absolutely flabbergasted because you are the only one outside of Hellfire who wants him to sign their yearbook.

The third time you meet, he’s feeding you drugs through a sloppy kiss before making you see stars.

The fourth time you meet, he is all but taken aback that you greet him with a boyfriend-and-girlfriend-kiss in plain sight of some other former Hawkins High students, thinking that you, just like all the other girls, would want nothing to do with him after one hot and high night together…

A/N: Just a couple of ideas that had been ghosting around in my head on digital paper. Enjoy!

Words: 4880 Warnings: drug use, alcohol, smut, RC has parents in this one, drunk driving

A/N: Both Eddie and RC are over the age of 21 in my stories.

The first time you met Eddie Munson, it was in the school cafeteria. You were new in town, damned to finish your high school years at a later age due to unforeseen circumstances in your past. Let’s just say it involved the military, an illegal weapon deal, you and your family being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a witness protection programme. Not exactly the funniest years of your life but here you were now, significantly older than all the other students trying to keep up with everything you had missed when one fateful day, you found a leather chain bracelet on the floor in the hallway near the boys’ bathrooms.

You figured it looked cool, so, instead of throwing it away, you decided to wear it. Little did you know it belonged to Eddie The Freak Munson himself who, as it turned out, was absolutely gutted he’d lost it. He ended up in line to get his lunch right behind you that day and of course, he instantly noticed the edgy accessory on you when you reached for a cup of chocolate pudding.

“Cool bracelet.”

You’d be lying if you said that the other students hadn’t “warned” you about him. But being old enough to legally buy alcohol, you were long past the silly idea of popularity in high school, knowing that once you were out of that building for good, no one—literally no one—cared anymore. Respectively, you turned around to smile at him.

“Thank you.”

“I had one like that too. Lost it recently,” he added a little distraught, underlining his words by throwing a single peanut in his mouth. Your eyes widened.

“Oh my god, what? I found that on the floor in the hallway the other day! It must be yours!”

And just like that, Eddie blinked and then frowned at you as if you’d just sliced the tyres of his van. “Why are you wearing it?” he asked—carefully, if not suspiciously.

“I just thought it looked cool. Here, take it back,” you announced, unclasping it from your wrist to hand it to him. “I’m glad it seems you didn’t lose it after all.”

“Yeah, uh… it was a gift from my uncle, so… it means a lot to me.”

You could have imagined it but you were pretty sure that you received something like an electrical shock when your hands touched.

“That’s sweet. Good thing I didn’t throw it away. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Eddie. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you around too.”

And that you did. Every day. You did have a few classes together, after all, and sooner or later you realised that you kept stealing glances at him. He was fucking handsome—a classic metalhead with an affinity for fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons, so you soon found out, and of course, a renowned bad boy selling drugs right under the noses of all the teachers which, strangely enough… did not hinder him from finally graduating that year. It turned out that 1987 was his year and to call what he pulled off at the graduation ceremony a show would have been an understatement and you certainly couldn’t stop clapping and cheering along with his friends when he did flip the principal the bird and acted like he’d just won the gold medal instead of his diploma. That man was a chaotic rockstar in the making, you just knew it. In fact, you were more excited for him than you were for yourself even though you had barely spoken after the bracelet exchange.

Unfortunately, apart from his beloved Hellfire club as well as two freshmen called Dustin and Mike, everyone else in the school just seemed to be happy to finally be rid of him—Miss O’Donnells the most, you figured.

So when it was time to get those last few signatures in for your yearbooks and students rushed from person to person with markers in hand, Eddie was left out entirely.

You guessed that this was why nothing prepared him for the very moment you approached him and two of his friends—Jeff and Gareth, you believed—and held your yearbook out to him.

“Hey, Eddie. Care to sign my yearbook for me?”

It took him a second to process your words, you could tell. “Me? You want me to sign your yearbook?”

“Of course.” And you meant it, if anything to have an excuse to speak to him again.

Eddie took your yearbook from you with slight hesitation, flipped the front page open and then, using the red ballpoint pen he must have been using for his friends’ yearbooks, scribbled something in yours.

You couldn’t wait to read what he’d written when he handed it back to you. Another moment of silence followed.

“Do you… want me to sign yours as well?”

“Uh… yeah… if you want.” Jeff and Gareth were a lot more suspicious than Eddie was, perhaps thinking you’d write something nasty in his. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what you were writing in it. Instead, and you could practically feel his curious brown gaze on you, he wouldn’t stop staring like you were some sort of hallucination.

The truth was, he probably didn’t quite know what to make of you. You’d never been part of a specific clique ever since your arrival and hence socialised with whoever circumstances put you in close proximity with. They’d all seen you with Jason and the others a few times—and given how the basketball team treated Hellfire, it was not short of a miracle they all radiated a pinch of hostility toward you.

Eddie almost flinched when you shut his yearbook shut and gave it back to him. “Thanks.”

“Thanks to you as well. After your stunt on stage, I have no doubt that you’re gonna be the next Ozzy Osbourne. I wish you and your band all the best, I’m sure you’ll rock it.”

Jeff and Gareth blinked. Incredulously so. Eddie on the other hand gave you a sheepish grin. “Thanks,” he said again.

You figured there was nothing else going to come out of his mouth—and you hoped that your phone number that you had scribbled into his yearbook and which he still hadn’t noticed yet was going to give him a broad hint.

That’s why your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you suddenly heard him calling after you. “We were going to, uh… celebrate together just outside of the town centre tonight. You know… snacks, dru- I mean drinks, music… care to come?”

It was only when you turned back around that you noticed Jeff and Gareth looking downright shocked at Eddie’s invitation. The head of the Hellfire Club appeared genuine though. And with those sweet puppy eyes, how could you turn him down? You simply could not, even if you had wanted to.

“Oh, I always fancy some snacks and dru- I mean drinks.” You grinned at him. “Should I bring anything?”

“If you want. Don’t have to though. Do you have a car or… should I come pick you up?”

“If it’s not too much trouble? Here, let me give you my address.” Using your pen from before, you snatched one of the napkins from one of the tables (almost wiping an empty champagne glass from the surface in the process) to scribble your address on it.

You decided to make brownies for the occasion. They were spiced with rum to add a little bit of flavour and dressed in your edgiest outfit before Eddie came to pick you up. To say you were excited was an understatement, for despite being generally friendly with everyone, you hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends in Hawkins yet.

Funnily enough, however, you were not even in the least surprised that Eddie drove straight to the infamous Reefer Rick house near Lover’s Lake. The entirety of the Hellfire Club, excluding the two freshmen, were there, along with a couple of other friends of Rick’s you didn’t know. It wasn’t a proper party per se—although they did have music but given Eddie’s taste and looks, it was metal blasting through the speakers for the most part.

“You’re insane, Munson. Who is she again?” Rick hissed into Eddie’s hair, grabbing his upper arm as you walked past and you took in the dimly lit boathouse. The atmosphere here was great. Foldable tables held a large selection of snacks, with two massive pizzas from Surfer Boy’s Pizza taking up the majority of the space. Another table was filled to the brim with so much alcohol you feared it would all topple over if someone attempted to remove one of the glass bottles. The fishing boat swaying in the water unsurprisingly took up most of the space in the boat house. Only for the occasion it had been repurposed to a cosy-looking lounging area and covered entirely with several layers of blankets and pillows.

The most prominent feature of this small get-together, however, was the smell of weed—and you were certain that those rolled little cigarettes were the most harmless drug Rick had on offer tonight.

“You’re telling me you invited the girl who found your bracelet a few months ago to a party at my house? What if she calls the cops on us?”

“I don’t think she will.”

“I brought brownies,” you offered, holding them out to him with a smile. Both Rick and Eddie blushed when they realised you had been able to follow their conversation over the loud guitar riffs.

“Oh. Thanks. Welcome to the party then.” And that was that. You set the homemade dessert on the table and had Eddie pour you your first drink of the evening.

“You know, it took me a hot minute to figure out you’ve written your phone number in my yearbook,” Eddie admitted after a few drinks and some casual chatting.

“Oh.” You chuckled, following up with a wink. “Well, I figured I’d take my shot.” Eddie had skipped prom, of course, not buying into the whole idea of wearing a suit and awkwardly asking someone out only to dance to shitty music and drink non-alcoholic punch in the school’s stinky sports hall.

It was a shame really—you would have loved to have seen him in a suit. Besides, you figured that the real reason Eddie hadn’t been to prom was because he’d been unhopeful any girl would have wanted to show up there with the town freak who was regularly accused of satanic rituals.

Well, you would have. But you ended up going with your classmates from chemistry class who had all sworn they didn’t need a man to have a good time. Which was also true.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, offering you a sweet smile.

“Why did you invite me? We’ve barely spoken all year and Rick is not wrong.”

“Listen, sweetheart… no one—and I mean no one outside of Hellfire has ever asked me to sign their yearbook for them. It might not sound like a big deal to you but you decided to come over to me despite what everyone else must have told you about me.” Sweetheart. Now that was a reason for your heart to skip a beat. The rising alcohol level in your body did the rest, of course, but you were far from drunk yet.

As of right now, Eddie’s hair was even messier than usual from headbanging to the latest Metallica hit that had come on after Rick had yelled “To our new graduates, Jeff, Gareth and Eddie!”. He was still a little out of breath. You were resting on the boat now, watching him giggle at a filthy joke Rick had just pulled and it was then you decided there and then that tonight was going to be the night. All good things started with a kiss, right?

Eddie must have noticed you staring at his lips. He took another draw from the cigarette he was smoking and then held it out to you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Want a draw?”

“Sure. Bring it on.”

Before you could close your mouth around it though, Eddie pulled away again, making you crawl closer to him in a confused manner. “Wait a second. You’ve… smoked before, right?”

“Duh,” you gave back. “Yes, I have. Never done anything stronger than weed though.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Just making sure you don’t throw up all over the boat.” Eddie didn’t hand the cigarette over. Instead, he brought it to your lips with his fingers, watching intently as you took a draw. The taste was just as awful as you remembered but it got the job done quickly. You relaxed, feeling more daring after only minutes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You stared at him matter-of-factly. It clearly confused him. You took another draw when he offered the weed to you yet again but this time inching even closer to him. His lips parted when you didn’t move away from him. “Can I kiss you?”

The metalhead grinned like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his ringed hand to your face to stroke your cheek and then, his mouth was on yours. Eddie kissed you softly and patiently, seemingly enjoying this first taste as much as you did. After you parted, you both smiled and as the night proceeded, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other anymore.

Eddie insisted on taking you to his place instead of staying at Rick’s, and after some initial protest that he too had had alcohol and shouldn’t be behind the wheel, you agreed to slowly drive back to his place. Fortunately for the both of you, you both made it out of this risky mission alive and you soon plopped yourself down on Eddie’s bed.

His room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes and cassettes along with handwritten song lyrics on crumbled paper were scattered everywhere, along with the odd guitar pick and lone sock. The walls were plastered with posters of metal bands as well as some maps and other drawings he must have made for his D&D campaigns.

His uncle wasn’t home—Eddie claimed he was pulling night shifts and that you had the house all to yourself. Which was certainly a good thing. You weren’t exactly quiet in bed and you had no doubt that you’d make use of those condoms sitting on his nightstand tonight.

Eddie grinned, turning his back to you for a moment. Then, he got rid of his battle jacket and leather jacket almost at the same time, kicked off his shoes and joined you on the bed wearing only his ripped trousers and a washed-out band shirt.

He was quick to take the initiative now that you had made the first step. Eddie leaned down, his hair tickling your face, and lowered his lips to yours to kiss you again, without any unwanted eyes watching you both this time.

He tasted like the weed you’d been smoking and the fatty pizza you’d all been munching on. His kisses were consuming, you had learned this much quickly. You sighed when his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing yours gently all the while his right hand went on an exploration quest, repeatedly stroking over your side.

Joyful anticipation of what would happen next flooded you like a hurricane, your body all of a sudden annoyingly aware of the fact there were way too many layers separating you both still.

It was then you felt the small pill on Eddie’s tongue that he passed on to you, gently biting your lower lip before breaking the kiss. You closed your mouth with wide eyes, returning his eager grin as he hovered above you.

“It’s ketamine,” he said, still grinning, “Rick got a new batch, fancy pill form. Nothing like anything else you’ll ever experience.”

You swallowed it down. “Shit. How long does it take to kick in?”

“With how strong that dose is I’d say about fifteen minutes. Thought you’d better have your first trip safely without accidentally drowning in the boat house at Rick’s.”

You hummed.

But what was the point of waiting around for it to kick in? You wanted Eddie. Now, and regardless of the drugs. Biting your lower lip, you pulled him back down to you and crashed your lips against his, kissing him ferociously.

“You’re wearing too much,” you announced out of breath when you had to pull away for oxygen.

“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”

“Hmm… we should do something about that, then.”

You both giggled like children. Eddie scrambled out of bed to get rid of his clothes, only leaving his plaid boxers on all the while you peeled yourself out of your shirt and your trousers.

“Do you know how to take off a bra?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

“You wound me, sweetheart.”

“C’me here and prove it then.”

He was on top of you again before you could blink, hands wandering behind your back as you arched it for him so he could take it off for you. He did in fact have no trouble whatsoever getting that last piece of clothing between your naked skin out of the way. When he tossed it out of bed, it landed straight on the neck of his acoustic guitar in the corner. Eddie chuckled but he soon gasped for air quietly when his brown eyes fell on your bare breasts, nipples hardening from both the sudden temperature change and your growing arousal—and perhaps the drugs, too. You could feel them kicking in now. It was like you were walking on clouds. Like everything you did was wrapped in cotton candy and each and every one of your senses was heightened.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way even though surely this wasn’t his first time on ketamine. In a haze, he cupped your breasts with his hands, kneading them gently all the while you tugged at the hem of his boxers, not failing to notice the growing bulge in them. Eddie’s erection sprung free when you pulled them down as far as you could in your current position, taking in his length. Damn. You didn’t have a lot of dicks to compare him to but you certainly liked what you saw.

Reluctantly, the metalhead let go of your breasts to reach for a condom. You moaned at the loss of them at the very same moment you started feeling like you were floating. Shit.

“I am craving ice cream right now.”

“You are?”

“Yes! I could eat three. No, six! You know what? Let’s go and have ice cream tomorrow!”

“At the mall?”

“At the mall!” you repeated, almost yelling the words. You blinked. Fuck. You were so high. Eddie grinned when he realised. You wriggled out of your knickers and tossed them out of bed with your foot. Utterly naked before him now, you watched him with your lower lip sucked between your teeth as he rolled the thin layer of latex onto his length and then positioned himself between your legs. You spread them even further for him, inviting him in.

“We can always stop, you know that, right?”

“Eddie…” You pulled him down to you, shutting him up with a sloppy kiss. The drug was really kicking in now and making out with him was like a whole new experience altogether. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. You needed him. Now.

You doubted he was still a virgin when he guided his member into you with skilled movements, slowly pushing in inch by inch without finishing instantly. You wouldn’t have minded to take a break and then try again but right now, the ketamine in your body was making you impatient for lust. Impatient for him.

“Move, Eddie, move…” you whispered, throwing your head back in the process. The metalhead obeyed. Slowly at first, he began to thrust up into you, each and every single movement eager and on the verge of madness.

You were an entanglement of sweaty limbs within a matter of minutes. Panting and kissing, you didn’t know where Eddie ended and where you started. You moved together rhythmically, your legs wrapped around his hips as he kept rutting into you.

It was the very first time you felt your arousal climbing higher and higher, that familiar knot of pleasure in your core tightening without any additional stimulation whatsoever. Surely, that was because of the drugs. It must have been because of the drugs. Eddie hit every single pleasure spot hidden deep inside of you but normally, even that was not enough for you to slip over the edge. Not so today. You could already feel your orgasm approaching, your toes curling and your cunt tightening around him.

Eddie groaned. “You going to cum, sweetheart?”

The sound that escaped your lips didn’t even remotely resemble a yes. So you nodded with your lower lip between your teeth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You shattered underneath him like a piece of glass, breaking into a million pieces scattering across his room.

Moaning his name, you dug your nails into his naked back and pulled him even closer to you. Eddie didn’t stop. On the contrary, he sped up. His strokes were erratic now, uncontrolled. Eager for his own orgasm, as you pulsed around him times and times again, you felt him tense up and then, find his release.

After a few more thrusts he stilled, burying himself as deep inside of you as he possibly could and shot his load into the condom. You wished you could have felt it, wished you could have felt him coating your still lazily contracting walls instead. Next time. There was always next time.

And fuck… that was quite possibly the best sex you’d ever had.

When you woke up the next morning, memories of last night came flooding back to you like a tsunami. Your head rested on Eddie’s chest. He’d draped his blanket over the both of you after he’d gotten rid of the condom—or simply threw it on the floor to be precise—and then cuddled up with you to keep you warm, to keep you safe while this trip lasted. You were almost a little disappointed you had sobered up now but the aftermath lingered like the taste of a particularly sweet strawberry on your tongue.

You opened your eyes, inhaling Eddie’s scent. Cigarettes, alcohol, leather and a little bit of sweat… it made for an oddly attractive mix. Unfortunately, however, your blood ran cold as soon as you spotted the time on the watch on Eddie’s wrist.

“Eddie! Wake up! Eddie, come on!”

He grumbled—and you wanted to kiss him senseless for being so cute and sleepy—but your parents must have been worried sick by now. Besides, you felt a little nauseous. Certainly the after-effects of the ketamine. You were lucky you weren’t hugging the toilet at the moment.

“What? You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay but I need to get home.”

“Huh?” Finally, he cracked an eye open. Another moment passed for him to take the time to wake up. You chuckled.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh, and I feel gross.” You needed a shower—and a change of clothes. “I need to get home and freshen up, and my parents are probably wondering where I am. Let’s meet at Starcourt? Around three?”

You wanted nothing more than to lazily wander into the kitchen and have a coffee and breakfast with him before doing what you did last night all over again—sober this time. But by now, his uncle was probably home too. You’d have to do that as soon as you got your own place. Then you could be fucking all day long and… you swallowed.

“Uh, yeah… sure. Three.”

“Alright.” You beamed at him. “I’ll see you there then.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed naked and gathered your clothes. Eddie grinned when you blew him one final kiss before you left the room fully dressed.

You had to admit it got a little awkward when you ended up walking straight past Wayne Munson who was at the kitchen table with a coffee and the morning paper in hand. There was absolutely no doubt the man new exactly what Eddie and you had done last night.

“Uh… morning, Mr. Munson.”

“Morning?” You didn’t need to explain. Well, Eddie did but not you, not right now. So you only gave him an apologetic smile and hurried out the door because three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You couldn’t stop grinning. Not when you apologised to your parents for worrying them and not calling, not when you took a shower, not even when you got some sustenance in to chase away the residue of the drugs and the alcohol in your body.

At around two thirty, you put on some make-up and then practically darted to the bus station to make it to Starcourt in time. Eddie was waiting for you already when you arrived. He leaned against a pillar near Scoops Ahoy wearing his usual attire, with one leg propped against it. His face lit up when he spotted you—only to darken only a fraction of a second later when he saw Jason and his laundry basket crew approach, instantly alert.

You paid them no mind. So you only nodded at Jason in greeting and then hurried toward Eddie, wrapping your arms around him to give him a long and passionate kiss.

“Hey…” he breathed out when you broke apart. Eddie blinked at you, incredulous at what you’d just done—almost as if you hadn’t had sex on a high last night.

“Hey. What’s… wrong? Are you alright?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine, sweetheart.” He glanced at Jason who kept on staring at you as if you’d just sacrificed a sheep to a demon. You shrugged your shoulders, interlaced Eddie’s fingers with yours and dragged him inside the ice cream shop.

“What do you want? I think chocolate chip mint is the best one but cherry sounds nice too. Pick whatever you like, it’s on me.”

Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you. “No, no, sweetheart. This is a date. I’m paying.”

“No you’re not. You can pay next time. You know how much the stuff you gave me…” You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “…you gave me last night normally costs. I’m paying.”

Eddie smirked at you—you just wanted to kiss him all over again. “Cherry and chocolate chip mint, how about that?”

“I like the way you think.” So you ordered and then made yourself comfortable in one of the booths to munch on your ice cream. Eddie glanced behind him and then, all of a sudden, he had that unbelieving expression on his face yet again.

“Okay, what’s up? Something’s up. Did I say something? Did something happen?”

“I just… didn’t expect you to want to be in public with me.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” It was you who had incredulousness written all over your face now. Your heart dropped to your feet. “What… do you mean?”

“The girls I hooked up with before, from school… they didn’t want anything to do with me after they’d gotten laid by the freak,” he admitted. “Granted, there weren’t that many but still.” Your lips parted. Shit. That’s why he was acting all surprised. You had just snogged him in front of the entire former basketball team, after all.

Of course that raised the question of why he would invite you to that party in the first place if he’d suspected that you’d only wanted some free drugs and to be able to claim you’d fucked the freak to find out if he was just that in the sheets as well. But there was always hope. Hope that it could be different this time even if it was all subconscious. You suppressed a sigh.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I want that?” you asked so you wouldn’t pause for too long.

“Don’t know. I’m just used to it, okay?” he said with a fake smile, scooping up some of his ice cream.

Oh. And now he was overwhelmed and flattered and touched and confused and… and he didn’t know how to act. You scooted closer to him in the booth, leaning against his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a shit about what the other people think, Eddie. I was in a rush this morning because I didn’t tell my parents I’d probably spend the whole night out. And I said I felt gross because I hadn’t showered and because the remnants of the drugs made me feel all icky. Not because I regret what we did. Actually… I can’t wait to do it again.”

Eddie’s face lit up. He grinned. “With or without drugs?”

“Both.”

In other words, that cheeky metalhead was your boyfriend now. And you’d be damned if you didn’t tell the world that you were his girlfriend.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn

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dragonnan · 6 months ago

Text

Nightmare

May 15

This one was published back in 2021. While it isn't a dreaming type of nightmare, I think it still qualifies.

Please let me know if you'd prefer not to be tagged :)

He could have taken the helicopter but, quite frankly, he had needed the drive in order to structure what he would say to them. Though, even as he pulled the sleek vehicle into the drive; gravel snapping and popping beneath the narrow tyres, he was no more prepared than he'd been when he'd left London. After turning off the engine he hung back for a beat – hands gripped around the wheel.

Whatever gods exist please let them not be home...

The house door opened and Mycroft swallowed – eyes closing for just a moment.

Before they could step out into the yard, however, Mycroft schooled his face and exited his car; feet settling onto the dusty drive. He should have changed into something more fitting; his polished black shoes were going to be scuffed beyond recovery.

“It's been three days; we've heard nothing – not even from that assistant of yours...” Words trailed away as Mycroft neared the door – those keen grey eyes taking in his features. Then, finally, his mother swallowed. “I'll go fetch your father.”

He followed inside. The trappings of the holiday still bedecked the walls and tucked in corners – red and green and things that glittered. The ghost of that wretched holiday nearly enough to spin his gut. Had it really been just three days? Having hung back in the sitting room, surrounded by the ruin of Christmas, Mycroft waited until he heard the back door open and shut – until he heard the tread of work boots cross the floor and the hiss of the tap as his father washed up at the sink. He'd been out in his workshop, then.

When he eventually made his way into the kitchen, his mother was setting the kettle to boil. There was a rum cake on the table – a holdover from their broken celebrations. Mycroft was quite certain he would never again deign to eat another slice of rum cake.

He felt caught in a current – his limbs disconnected from the floor below as he watched his parents carry out familiar movements cast in the die of decades – repeated and worn into the shape of the spaces around him until the very molecules in the air had been carved to fit their steps. It was nearly a head-rush that would have staggered him had he not been clinging with one hand on the door jam – that sensation of events playing themselves out to infinity. That sickening slip of déjà vu that wanted him to carry out his own predetermined patterns. He had taken these steps before... sat at the table, unburdened dire news which would fracture their family with regards to the youngest of them... that pall of death that had followed Sherlock from the very first time Mycroft had forced air into his stilled lungs in a filthy doss house. Seventeen years old and ODed on a tainted dose of cocaine from a disreputable dealer. Had he been the one, then, to stay that boney specter – to demand favor that would, eventually, demand its due?

Was this to be the payment demanded? To stand to the side while the blade of the guillotine fell?

Or was he the one required to let slip the rope from his fingers?

“Mycroft?”

His father's voice and proximity sent a rush of inhaled air through Mycroft's nose – head jerking back a fraction until his dark musings returned him to the room he'd fled. The tea was ready and Mummy stood next to the table while his father was less than a foot away – concern on both of their faces.

He stiffened his shoulders and walked to the executioner's block.

Once sat, he took his cup in hand and even sipped the warmth – his body so cold that it felt like a blaze sliding down his throat. He was aware that he was handling this all very badly.

His mother, likely sensing the impasse holding his teeth together, finally spoke to life the fear wrapping them all.

“Sherlock will not be allowed to go free.”

Mycroft's eyes fluttered shut, then, and he shook his head.

“No.”

“But you did not travel for over an hour to tell us that. We knew there would be a punishment of some sort. It's worse than that. Isn't it.” Her own tea remained untouched. At the edge of his vision, Mycroft watched his father take hold of his mother's hand. When had their home ever been so silent?

“He is to be held in solitary until the week's end. He is to have no visitors; myself included. On Friday, Sherlock will be escorted to my private airfield. There he will board a jet, to be taken to a location, deemed by M16 to be of high-value, which I am not at liberty to disclose... even to you. Such is the nature of this mission that, upon successful completion, Sherlock's debts will be forgiven and his slate wiped clean.”

Throughout this Mycroft kept his eyes fixed on his cup – watching the surface steam as it dissipated above the rim. When he finished, he considered another sip before noting the tremor in his hands that were held gathered in his lap. He breathed, measured in a count of eight, until they stilled.

Mummy, however, dithered with the cup in her free hand – the porcelain skidding on the old tabletop. Her voice, when it came, was stripped to a jerking hush. “Will he...?” Whatever remained of her question locked up tight behind her throat and when Mycroft lifted his head it was to watch a tear seep down one pale cheek.

But, then, he knew what it was she was asking. And maybe his silence, in reply, was more than enough answer because she turned into Siger's embrace and, with shaking shoulders, began to weep.

Some time later, Mycroft was halfway through his third cigarette, while overlooking the back garden. The burning fag jutted from between two fingers where they rested on the black metal gate. How recently he stood in this very place.

It had grown quite chilly, the past several nights; dipping down as low as six degrees. There was even the chance of snow flurries in the morning.

Finishing the cigarette, Mycroft tapped the ash tip against the fence before tucking the butt in his pocket. It struck him, then, that he would never steal away for a smoke with his brother ever again.

He didn't remember when he moved. He only knew that he came to himself as he was pounding his fists against one of the rough stone posts that stood on either side of the gate. The blood in his ears was pumping so loudly that he could not hear what tore from his throat – could only feel it in the vibration of his vocal chords. In truth he would have remained lost in his rage far longer had not arms wrapped around him from behind. In that moment Mycroft knew his father's embrace.

He sagged, then, in those strong arms. Stronger than the older man appeared to anyone who didn't know him. He held his oldest child as Mycroft tipped his face down into his spread hands and began to sob. Rough, jagged pieces of glass that left behind bleeding wounds where they ripped through his chest.

How long they stood there was lost to time. Mycroft only knew that at some point his father had laid an arm across his shoulders and was guiding him inside with soft words while Mycroft had all he could do to place one foot before the other in a mostly straight path.

When next he was logging events it was to blink owlishly at the stout mug of something steaming and alcoholic resting on the coffee table, before him. He lifted it and took a sip. Ah – father's special hot toddy spiced with cardamom. He had taken several sips before finally taking in more of the room. His eyebrows lowered when he noticed that the only other person in the room was his father – the older man sitting in his favorite chair next to the fireplace. His face was haggard and eyes rimmed red. At Mycroft's glance, Siger tipped his head towards the hall.

“She's lying down. It was... it's too much. We almost lost him, so recently, and now...” his throat bobbed and he subsided – long fingers twisting together. Mycroft held the warm mug in his hands – his fingertips tapping against the rim. Only then did he feel the sting rising in his knuckles. Blood filled every crease – though it was obvious the injuries had been cleaned and treated with a topical ointment. His eyes closed and he felt the flash of burn from his dried out stare. He was aware of losing time repeatedly and, were he not so emotionally flattened, it would have been troubling.

He held the mug in his hands until it cooled – setting it aside once he finally noticed the absence of heat.

“I've failed him.”

The words whispered free before his mind had fully formed them. Yet, the moment they were voiced he knew the truth of them. He had failed. The only mission in his life which truly mattered and he had failed... abysmally.

And his brother would pay for that failure. And there was nothing he could do to repair this.

He expected no response from his father – what was there to say? He was aware of Siger looking towards the low flames in the fireplace. His eyes were wet.

And so they remained; each trapped in their own misery.

An hour later his father stood, approaching to rest a hand against his cheek, for a moment, before going off to bed.

He had only intended to deliver his news before returning home but Mycroft found he scarcely had the energy remaining to slip his shoes from his feet before curling on his side.

He was asleep before he even finished the mental note to call Anthea in the morning.

The following day was possibly worse than the evening which had preceded it. His mother was, by turns, furious and horribly silent. Even his father, normally a stoic man, had a tremble in his jaw and more than once wiped beneath his eyes. It was a journey through hell as Mycroft forewent breakfast in his urgency to flee.

There were six additional texts from John as well as two voicemails. Certainly no point in perusing them – it was readily apparent what the man had to say and Mycroft deleted them without bothering to listen. He had no answers for him and the ones he could have provided would be a disservice to his brother's friend. There were too few things he could do for Sherlock. This, at the least, was a mercy he could offer.

There were many affairs he had to put into order. As it was they were not entirely new – having been established the last time Sherlock had confronted a madman. The difference, of course, was that Mycroft's involvement, back then, was to provide the greatest assurance of his brother's survival. Now...

It struck him, all at once, in a sort of breathless fashion so strongly that he was forced to pull to the side of the road. His hands clasped on the steering wheel and he felt a wild pounding through his chest and it was some outer observation of himself that recognized panic. That part of him, though, was incapable of offering more and even his sense of time was wiped away until he finally, eventually, came back to himself layered in sweat that felt icy against his temples. His mouth was tacky and dry so he opened his door to walk around back to the boot where he had a cooler among other supplies. The water almost hurt when he first swallowed – his throat was so parched. In short order, however, he'd emptied it and screwed the cap back onto the depleted bottle – tossing it into the cooler before retrieving a second and taking it back to the driver's seat.

It was an additional ten minutes before Mycroft felt confident to drive. But as he pulled out onto the roadway it was with a hum of determination that had begun to build from the moment Sherlock had pulled the trigger to end Magnussen's miserable life. He would not allow Sherlock to face this alone. Not while blood still pumped though his veins. No, he may not be able to alter this fate. However, he still had the autonomy his position afforded.

Even if it meant walking with his brother into the flames.

His uncle would have accused him of excessive drama. Rudy, though, had long viewed sentiment as little more than a tool for manipulation. And, in that moment, Mycroft found he didn't care one whit what Rudy Vernet thought.

He needed to contact Anthea again – an adjustment to protocols which had been previously established. She would not thank him, once she became aware of his intentions. However, she would, he hoped, understand. There was no other way.

In three days he would watch his brother board a private jet.

An hour later, Mycroft would take a temporary leave – boarding a commercial flight under an alias known only to Anthea.

He was quite certain he would never see London again.

He found no regret in this choice. In fact, for the first time since Christmas, he felt peace.

He only had one last task to accomplish – something he had promised his brother before Sherlock was locked away in a private cell. Contact dialed on his mobile, Mycroft was unsurprised when it was picked up scarcely after a single ring.

“Mycroft – what the hell is going on? Where is Sherlock...?”

“John. My apologies. Sherlock has been detained and I'm afraid he has not been allowed contact. However I...” he licked his lips; suddenly aware of a dangerous tremble which he forced aside before it could slip into his speech, “I was able to procure... a moment.”

“Moment? What...”

“To say goodbye. John.” Not fully silent, on the other end, Mycroft was able to note the sudden deep breaths. One last mercy, perhaps. “As recompense for the shooting, Sherlock is to avail himself to MI6 as a field operative. It was deemed a far better fate than to waste away in a cell.”

The breathing caught as John composed himself. When his voice returned it was subdued.

“How long?”

Mycroft rubbed his thumbs against the steering wheel. “Indefinitely.”

He had no trouble imaging John's eyes shuttering closed. “I see.”

They disconnected shortly afterward.

As grayed hills gave way to London streets, Mycroft pulled the tatters of self back around his shoulders. This was for the best. After 6 months, John Watson would receive a substantial deposit into his bank account – more than enough to see to his child's upbringing and education. He would know only that Sherlock had arranged for the funds via his trust. He would wonder – likely assume, correctly, that Sherlock was no longer alive. He would mourn and he would move on. After all, he had done so, once before.

As to Mary; Mycroft would have her under watch. Anthea would see it through personally. Should the former assassin ever show any indication of returning to her former life... should she ever present a danger to John or their child... it would be handled. His parents...

And here Mycroft faltered in his manic plans.

And not only his parents. He had responsibilities that only he, and very few others, were aware existed.

He... he could not do as he desperately wished.

There was only a vast emptiness of winter pale hills beyond the windscreen. The promised flurries had begun to fall shortly after five that morning – the roadway gilded with sparking flakes that frosted the browned grass and clung to the branches of trees. As the flakes began to thicken, building into a proper snow, Mycroft switched on the fog lights in spite of the fact he shared the road with no other vehicles.

Before the weight of it all could drag him beneath the rising waves, Mycroft mentally took hold of himself. He had allowed emotion to wrest control of his faculties. He had... indulged a fantasy. But that was all it would ever be. It was over now. It was all over, now.

It was time to move forward.

His parents would never forgive him. This, though, was something he had been prepared to face. And it wouldn't be the first child he had taken from them.

Before his maudlin thoughts could overtake him, yet again, Mycroft dialed a number on his mobile once again. There was no sound of a ring and only moments passed before he heard the click of a connection. “Anthea. I need you to make arrangements. It's for John Watson... and Sherlock.” He licked his lips; moving into a lane that would take him into the city and on to Whitehall. He remembered, with sudden and breathtaking vibrancy, a tiny face with watery blue eyes, peering up at him from the folds of the blanket cradled in Mummy's arms. And he knew, as well, that he gave himself away with the tremble that broke in his voice.

“It's time to say goodbye.”

Comment on AO3

Tagging: @totallysilvergirl

#sherlock #fanfic #may prompts 2024 #nightmare #mycroft holmes

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keelt9 · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 7

Masterlist

Mika takes out of the oven a new tray of cookies, white chocochips. “You fly right to Monaco or Belgium?” With her day off she insisted we should do a sleepover.

In her apartment the combination of color green and white makes you feel calm in every room, she said after a long day she could fall asleep even in the kitchen without a problem.

The last GP before summer break has me more excited than I could ever expect and with no race week in the middle of it, it only increases a little bit more.

“I have to pick my last bag from my brother's house, then from Belgium right away to here.” I take a sip of my tea. It's a sleepover but she refused to let another drop of caffeine be on my body, while she can avoid it.

She has that smile, the corner of her lips barely raises but her eyes full of admiration.

“I’m not going to be emotional if it’s what you’re expecting, I’m just proud, that’s all.” Mika takes her baking gloves off her hands, sitting next to me.“Just a few things we need to work on.”

I scoff, but she’s right. “Less caffeine, more vitamins and minerals, and proper hours of sleep…” I cover her mouth with another cookie.

“I got it, I got it. Take care of myself.” Her doorbell along my cell phone warned us the food is here.

“That’s mint, although.” She points to the sticker at the back of my phone. “Tell Lewis I wouldn't mind one of these.”

I turnt it around observing the sticker while she's walking to her door. A tyre and in the middle a small paw; is now on my phone case.

I whisper to myself before biting my lip. “It was someone's last request before I go.”

I arrived in Monaco Wednesday night, Lewis will come to pick me up on the weekend. Right now, he is America, fashion icon one more time.

All my boxes were successfully delivered to London; let me spend the days working, my determined conviction is to enjoy the last to GP without having to work in the paddock.

That Friday night, after I went for a glass of water; back in my room the screen on my phone is lights on, 2 missing calls. I don’t have to ask who it was because it’s calling one more time.

“Y/N?” The voice of Alexa is full of relief. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late but could you…”

“It’s urgent mon amour!” Alexa bluffs, the voice of Charles clearly hammered sounds so funny.

“Long story but can you com…” One more time she’s interrupted.

“Hellu, Y/N? It 's you right, bien sûr que c’est vous, Max is acting like a kid.” Yeah, only him.

Like he’s telling a secret he whispers right to the phone. “He refuses to go, maybe you don’t have notice but it’s late at night, really late..”

I heard Alexa asking him to sit one more time. “Sorry, it’s just…”

It only takes me one look around the dark room and the clock, 2:31 am. “I’ll go, send me the address.”

I bet the cab driver must have been chuckling when he heard the direction I asked him to take me and a girl wearing joggers, hoodie and a cap.

When I arrived a lot of people were coming out of a fancy club, nice clothes still some totter and others into a “deep” talk.

I took my phone out and dialed Alexa's number. “Where are you?” She told me, took them to a nearby bench so they could calm down.

The near bench was 2 blocks away!

The scene I found it’s far away, the one I'll picture on my way here. Alex is holding Charles hand who is leaning in her arm as Max sits still, eyes closing, when she sees me her face relax.

“Hi, I’m sorry for the delay.” My voice makes Charles open his eyes and point at me.

“There she is!” Alexa rolls her eyes but she is smiling at him.

“I’m the one who should say sorry, but… things went out of control.” I shake my head. “He refused to go.”

I softly touch Max’s shoulder, he opens his eyes like the last time the redness in his face is evident.

“Are you ok?” Max stands or at least he tries because immediately sits down one more time. “No, you don’t.” My hand on his shoulder is enough for him to rest his head over it. “Hm, I’ll call a cab to take you home, all right?”

Actually I called for two, one for Alexa and Charles and another for Max; she was worried if I would be ok, I calmed her telling her it’s not my first time, making her giggle.

A couple of minutes after they left, a cab stopped in front of us. “Come on Max, it’s time.”

I put his arm around my shoulder as he got into it, thank God the woman didn't mind taking a look at the boy who has a cap of Machster university.

After I made sure he’s safe, I was about to close the door, he slightly pulled my hoodie. “It's late, remember, I’ll protect you.”

Not again.

I take a deep breath, I try to get his hand from my hoodie but he covers my hand with his other hand. “Please.”

Who could I…

By the time we reached his apartment I already had backup in case I could need them.

Max has been dealing pretty well until we get into the lift, he comes out of the cab without so much fuss, walking inside of his building, swaying a little bit, but inside he leans back slowly slipping on the floor of the lift.

A deja vu. “Ok, no, no.” This time I’ll gladly help him to stand, however when he stands the metal door helps me to see he has a smirk on his face.

“Are you enjoying this?” I ask fighting to contain a smile, and his arm around my shoulder. Max shakes his head but a giggle escapes too. “Yeah, sure.”

Took Max 5 minutes to open his door, but he refused to let me help him, saying it’s a door, <Who can’t open a stupid door?> Well…

The impressive amount of trophies in his home along with some helmets and his sim, left me speechless. “Wow.”

Max smiles looking at me with eyes half close. “I couldn't make it all fit.”

“Let’s go, you need to lay down.” He points to the last door. “Believe me, you’re heavier than I think.”

His bedroom has a clear contrast, creamy colors with a navy blue and just a few frames with photos is all I can see.

With a smile on his face, lays down in his bed. Searching for a blanket, he rolls to his right with eyes closed so I thought he was already asleep; I was about to leave his room when he speaks.

“Tell me a story.” I tilt my head, his eyes still closed but he patted the side of the bed so I could sit.

“Am…I'm not pretty good at telling stories. Dad used to make sleep humming a Bob Marley song… And definitely I'm not going to sing to you.” The memories of dad taking me to my room in his arms as he sings a full song while he covers me watching me fall asleep are one of my most treasured memories.

“That sounds like a good story.” His bubbly laugh makes me smile.

I scratch my forehead, trying to find another story to tell him. “Fuck.”

Max opened his eyes, visibly tired, still making a huge effort to stay awake. “I never heard you curse…Interesting.”

I laugh because it’s the most silly thing I heard that night. “Let me think, you asked me where the idea of the shelter was, right?” Max nods. “Well, that will be..”

When I was 7 probably 8 years old, Lewis and I were walking around London; he was already in F1 and it was the summer break, near to our old house we found a big brown dog limping from one his legs, it took us 1 minute decided to help him, so I ran for bread in the nearest store. At the beginning he reluctantly smelled it but after we sat next to him, he approached us step by step.

Came late at night with a huge dog was the last thing our parents expected and after a long talk they agreed he would stay with us until he fully recovered. The next day the veterinarian told us he was an old dog probably 12 years old, his health was weak and the fracture in his leg doesn’t give him a long life expectancy, but could care less.

Moon, as we called him, spent the last 3 years of his life with us, waiting for me at the bus stop every time I came from school, making dad and mom company every second and trying to jump when Lewis came home.

Sadly on a hot night of summer, Moon says goodbye to us sharing the last night of tea under the table.

That week while I was crying in my room as Lewis hugged me, we made a promise, when I were older enough, we would try to help every homeless dog to at least have a safe place to live.

As I finished Max was breathing slowly, head buried in his blanket, fully asleep now.

I observed him for a couple of seconds, his eyes closed, the tight grip on the blanket and his face red for too many drinks.

“I’m going to miss you.” I chuckle, I leaned down for giving a small peck in his cheek. “Good night Max.”

I waited for my back ups in his living room. After 20 minutes Max's door opens one more time, Rupert, his personal trainer, enters quickly.

I think he finally breathed after I told him Max is peacefully sleeping in one piece. “I’ll take you home, we can leave him locked, making sure he doesn't make a bigger mess.” Nice offer but I need time to calm down, a little bit.

“No worries, I already called a cab, it’s ok, thank you anyway.” Rupert nods as he opens the door.

“Y/N, thank you so much.” Rupert said, reliving that Max is safe at home.

“Am, Checo has plenty of good numbers which I can call.” I joke trying to rest importance to the moment and my confused feelings.

Lewis arrived early in the morning to his apartment, finding me asleep on the couch; we just had a quick breakfast and left right away. We want to enjoy all the moments we can, just for us.

“I can understand it, it just doesn't make so much sense for me.” He keeps complaining that most of the time I have a tendency to sleep on the couch.

We’re waiting inside of his jet ready to leave. “Because it hasn’t, the couch could be really comfy sometimes.” Lewis raises his eyebrow. “What? Oh you’re so…” I fake a shiver that made him laugh.

“All right, let’s have fun this week.” He pulls me, grabbing my head and carness my hair. “My little baby is already leaving me.”

I laugh but I softly kick his leg for he let me go laughing like a little kid.

By the end of the day of practice, the social accounts of Mercedes made sure people knew Lewis brought company, with a picture of me on my first GP. A little girl who is wearing big headphones on her head as Lewis is next to me explain something I couldn’t remember; now, the picture is me, similar headphones watching Lewis is on the track, the description is <Time goes by…>

Walking inside the hotel Lewis keeps watching the first photo on his phone. “Look at you, when you used to be so cute.”

I roll my eyes, similar to all the comments friends and family have sent me along the day. “The <sexy> comments are still too much for me.”

Lewis put his phone in his pocket shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I’m sti…” My words stuck in my throat when I saw Max coming out of the lift.

All these days, my routine practically consists of going to the garage then the hospitality, with more cameras on me that I expect making me feel shy avoiding all types of contact with people who haven't a Mercede shirt.

Max smiles when his eyes are found with mine, but a weird tension on his shoulders appears when Lewis says hello.

“Let’s go Max, we’re late.” One of the girls from the Red Bull PR team waits for him a few steps away from us.

Lewis softly makes me walk inside of the lift, unable to say something to him.

“Did a <race> incident happen?” I ask to try to see him right to his eyes, but I only see his profile.

“He called around 4 am on Saturday morning, he wanted to apologize for the mess he made. He knows he has to do it with you but doesn't have your phone number.” Oh shit. The jaw tense only increased my nerves. “I asked what mess, and he told me you take him home late at night, drunk.”

He saw me, an uncomfortable expression on his face. “For the second time.”

Max Verstappen why do you like to complicate things?

“Well, I…only help, that’s all.” My finger starts to grip my purse tighter.

Lewis narrows his eyes and takes a deep breath. “What did you tell him?”

“What makes you think I told him something?” It's my turn to choke my head with a serious expression on my face. “Make sure it won’t happen again.”

Covering my face was the only thing I could do. “That’s the only thing I said to him then, he said he likes you.”

The sensation of the elevator going slowly makes me feel dizzy. We have to be on the last floor.

“I know.” Lewis choked as his eyes turned wide open. “He already implied that.”

As the doors open Lewis makes a sign with his head for going to his room, the talk definitely doesn’t end.

We talked for one hour… He let me talk. I told him about the first time we met until that Friday night. From time to time I feel an odd heat on my face and a peaceful sensation in my heart.

“That’s all.” I laid back on the chair feeling his eyes on me but he’s more relaxed now.

“You li…” He tried to speak but I cut him right away.

“NO! Don’t say it.” I stand walking to the big window.

The lights of the streets and buildings always make me feel calm, a spark of light in the dark. “I have a ton of things on my head, it’s just… a new friend, a stubborn friend, that’s all. Let’s not confuse things.”

Lewis stood next to me, tingling my arm with his. “Better.” I bluff, making him smile. “Seriously, I appreciate him so much but, like mom said, he’s too sassy most of the time.”

I laughed and leaned my head on his shoulder. “Trust me Lew, next week I’ll be at home, keeping me busy with all the things I have to do, all will go back to normal.”

“I just want to protect you, I couldn’t do it last time.”

I know Lewis believes he could do something for me those days, the truth is, not even myself could prevent how the things went that day.

“This is what it feels like?” Lewis saw me raising his eyebrow as we walked to the garage for the race day. “Be observed under a microscope.”

Lewis laughs head backwards, but for 3 days at least I have one camera so close to my face on the day.

“Stop right there!” Bottas reached us coming out of his garage, suit on. “You broke my heart, you told us you’ll be here until the end of the season.”

My sharp eyes go right to Lewis. “I thought they already knew.”

“They?” Checo came running from his garage winning exasperated eyes from his PR team. “Lewis Hamilton you’re so…”

Bottas grabs my hand about to give my brother a little punch on his chest. “We don’t use violence.”

“Is it true?” Checo asked, putting one more time on his cap which was about to fall from his head.

“I’m afraid it is.” Bottas hugs me, keeping Lewis safe from me.

Checo bluffs but he has an idea for the way he smiles. “We have to take drastic measures.”

It seems they already had this planned for the way they told me their idea so confidently. In a way to say goodbye after the race they already have reserved a nice restaurant for a goodbye dinner like they called.

“After all, I’m afraid we won’t see you soon, right?” Bottas asked with a funny expression on his face.

I scoff but he’s right. “I’m afraid I don’t have a clue either.”

A great close; Lewis gets second place in a tight final lap. I spent all the time in the front line even in the ceremony where I couldn't avoid seeing Max who from time to time, took a look where I was smiling at him too.

When all the fuss calmed down Lewis' team prepared a small cake for us, wishing success in our new project and like Rosa said. <Wishing we see you soon,>

I know I should be prepared for this, still it’s hard to contain the tears, for months they gave me a refugee and more.

As night falls, there are just a few technicians, most of the team's withdrawal from the garage. I told Lewis before going to the dinner I need to talk with Max, hesitant he nods but insite if I need something call him right away.

Checo told me Max is probably still in his garage; he won although he doesn’t like the way his car feels along all the race.

I found him leaning back in his car breathing deep seeing it like he could scan with his eyes to find the problem. I approach him slowly, hating the way my steps echo on the floor warning him about my presence.

Max turned his head but didn’t make another move, in his eyes you see a mix of surprise and ease, like he’s been waiting for this still wasn’t prepared for it.

I stand next to him unable to say or make another move, like a layer of ice born between us .

“I thought you had an appointment for dinner.” Max is always straightforward.

I look at his car but it’s hard to find some words, not now he clearly knows something.

“I wanted to talk to you before you hear it, even though I’m late, right? I will say it right away.” I let all the air on my lungs come out. “This was my last Grand Prix.”

Max knuckles turn white while he’s still grabbing his car, his blue eyes one more time start to form a storm inside of it.

“Yeah, I heard…something about it.” He clears his throat, his voice is the most serious I’ve heard from him. “Why now?”

“The project is getting into a critical phase, traveling around the world it’s getting more complicated.” My words are heavier than I thought it would be. “This is the best for me.”

Max finally stands quickly making me feel vulnerable but not intimidated. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

The moment his eyes found mine I saw more bewilderment than anger. “I thought I had more time.”

Inside of me there is a fight I clearly wasn’t prepared for, I don’t want to hurt him but I won’t quit my decision.

“I didn't want to tell you because things were pretty “weird” and you have a race. I want you to hear it from me, not for a rumor.” Max nods when he turns to his left slightly. I see the way his jaw tense.

A dry laugh it’s the only thing I heard for a couple of seconds, a sign that still he couldn’t believe it. “So this is it.”

That’s not a question and not a statement.

I take a step, not a physical one. “I’m being honest, I’m glad we got to know each other.” Even if I’m smiling, a nostalgic feeling makes my heart squeeze.

Max put his hands at both sides of his waist, frustrated on every move of his body, in his eyes you can see him searching for the right words to say, until something clicks on his head.

“I'm dying to ask you to stay but I won’t do it, but… if I ask you to come just one more couple of races, you will come?”

I observed him, always surprised with his honesty. “Max, I… I’ll be busy, you know?”

The determination in his eyes it’s really annoying in a good way. “I know, I’m, oh my God Y/N why are you making this so hard?”

I giggle, getting my head low. “Max, let's be honest, I’m not the one who complicates things, you said and do weird things and I…”

“Because I’m trying to flirt with you!” Max has his fist tight, and chuckles about the odd situation around us. “Ok, I say it, you want me to repeat it, I’ll do it.”

I shake my head; he seems it’s about to scream.

“Y/N…” I see around all the garage, unable to see or hear anything. “Now, can you please let me do this properly, you are taking away from me half of a year.”

“Max…” He definitely won’t shut up.

“I'm flirting with you because I like you!” As soon as that word came from his mouth I walked closer covering it with one of my hands as the other one grabbed his arm, otherwise I would fall over him.

Any of us expect that because of the way his eyes open and his arm tighten, from that moment on, something will change, things won’t return to normal.

I close my eyes trying to calm down but… Have you seen the sea when it’s dark blue with the soft white line of the waves crashing against each other?

I could see it right now on his eyes

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine #lewis hamilton #mercedes #sir lewis hamilton

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loganswdc · 4 months ago

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so....! yesterday's race was.... something....

firstly LET'S GO OSCAR !!!! HECK YEAH I'M SO PROUD OF HIM I CAN'T BELIEVE I GOT TO SEE HIM WIN HIS FIRST RACE !??!?!?! i do feel awful for lando ,, that entire situation created by mclaren was entirely unnecessary . their bullshit reason saying they needed to cover hamilton hence why lando got pitted first is so stupid -- it's like they realized they messed up and suddenly needed to come up with something to explain it .

it's especially frustrating because that entire mess that mclaren created only made it so that no matter what happened , fans would be mad: if lando won , people would be pissed that oscar didn't get his first win . oscar won , and now people are pissed that lando didn't win . and the entire win for oscar just doesn't feel the way it should: the energy surrounding his first win isn't as positive and exciting as it should be .

and that genuinely makes me so sad for oscar , because i know he's been waiting for this day . he's been waiting for his first win , and it's completely dampened and stomped on because of mclaren's awful strategy calls near the end . i was genuinely yelling at the screen when they pitted lando first , because what was that for ?? why pit him first ?? he did NOT need to cover hamilton , like there was genuinely no need for that . they were leagues away and lando was fast enough that he could have pitted second and still gotten p2 , or lando and oscar could have actually fought for p1 . and it wouldn't have had this bad , awkward energy around it like it does now .

mclaren seriously needs to get their shit together because they're only harming both of their drivers through these things . and them airing out dirty laundry (considering how they were saying "you need the team to win this championship" or how his race engineer mentioned the morning debriefs , etc. etc.) and trying to guilt trip lando over the radio is actually insane !!

it was honestly just a mess .

i also lowkey found it so funny how lewis was trying to break the tension in the cooldown room and lando was just NOT having it . bro was so mad , he threw his p2 cap on the floor and lewis just side-eyed him 😭 multi-21 all over again literally and lewis is in the middle of it , poor guy HAHA

now on to logan's race !! i felt so bad for him , i know he could have done well but unfortunately he had a really bad start and it all just went downhill from there :( the tyre strategy they had him on was... it actually pulled out of no man's land . i genuinely don't get what they were trying to go for there . it seriously sucks man , this weekend was almost his weekend and then it all went to hell 😭 his post-race interview broke me , too . the fact he looked like he was about to sob and said that start will haunt him ... please someone give him a HUG i need him to know we're so proud of him no matter what . shit start or not he did everything he could to fight for positions in that race :(

i was genuinely so confused about what their thought process was ,, and then the fact that logan had to pit for softs at the end because his hard tyres were destroyed... ugh . and we know logan is good at tyre management !! like that man gets a new set of tyres and he is gonna treat em REAL GOOD . so it just goes to show how much of a mess the tyre strategy was .

especially considering how on the radio alex was practically yelling at his engineer for being indecisive with the strategy , saying that the tyres are destroyed already and that they need to be more sure with what they want to do . williams seriously needs to start listening to both their drivers , honestly . it's incredible to me that this tyre fiasco happens SO often on race weekends . they need to get it fixed , and they need to fix it now.

also the fact we found out that alex's teammate is going to be revealed in two weeks... i am actually terrified !! i need either logan to stay with williams and they pull themselves together or he goes to another team that will treat him better .

overall this race was just . it was something . exciting for oscar , but still dampened by mclaren's mess ups and logan's race was doomed from the beginning , both because of his unfortunate start and tyre strat :/

hopefully next week will be better , for everyone , and the teams will get their shit together !!

and that concludes my weekly rant session , thank you very much for reading <3

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pinkandgoldensoul · 2 months ago

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Just an afterthought about today's qualifying (after mourning, as a Ferrari fan): starting on pole in Monza isn't an advantage AT ALL. Cars behind can attack you thanks to slipstream. I mean, Norris, in Zandvoort, where the meters before the first corner are few and chances of overtaking should be near to zero because of the short distance, also having a better reaction time compared to Max, lost the position simply by sliding a bit in first gears. Now, imagine what can happen when cars behind you sensibly gain speed compared to you and try to squeeze you both from inside and outside (because I feel like it'll be carnage... even with Oscar), leading to the first chicane, where chaos usually unfolds... I'm NOT hoping for Norris to have a bad start, as much as I don't wish it for anyone on the grid. I'm just saying that most is yet to be decided tomorrow and what feels like a huge disappointment now could be not as relevant at the end of the weekend. (Then, of course, with Monza's upgrades expectations were different. Personally, what upsets me the most is how narrow the tyres' window performance was in qualifying. Also, I wouldn't judge upgrades on such a particular track, and I unfortunately find it quite normal not to be able to find the sweet spot when it comes to setup when you bring huge updates.) Plus, let's not forget that the asphalt is new and tyre deg will be key in the race. Someone might even try a two-stops strategy. It's not unusual to see safety cars (Monza always being a drama queen). Despite all of this, I still have a bad feeling about the race. But I want to try to be reasonable, logical and as analytical as possible because I love this sport too much to behave like someone who only reacts to the moment sinking in despair and raising in excitement in the span of one lap without even reflecting (not like there's anything wrong with that, but that's just me and how I want to enjoy the sport). Just hope the race will be fun! 💓

P.S.: Norris' start in Zandvoort is simply an example. It's not meant to throw shade or anything

#monza gp 2024 #lando norris #max verstappen #ferrari drivers #scuderia ferrari #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 2024

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charles-leclerc-official · 7 months ago

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First, I just want to say that your analysis on the Suzuka race weekend was absolutely beautiful - thought out, concise, to the point and really well written!

I just have one question, since you seem really knowledgeable on the more physics - concerning aspects of a race - how is negative tyre deg even possible? I know what it is, the definition isn't the problem, what I don't get is how can it even happen? How can you go faster on older tyres, how does that possibly work? Considering physics point towards the maxima you, yourself mentioned - new tyres = ability to go faster. And yet negative deg is possible, which has me incredibly confused.

Admittedly, physics isn't my strongest subject, so forgive me if the answer to my question is something very obvious, I would still appreciate you taking the time to explain it!

Took me a while to get to this one because it is a very advanced concept as far as the physics are concerned, and full disclosure I am by no means a physics expert. I understand the principals at play but the calculations for these relationships are pretty advanced.

But the main thing for why this is possible has to do with a relationship between the suspension, the track temperature, the camber of the tyres, the specific setup a driver chooses for their car, and the driver and their driving during the race.

So the idea is if you have a car base that is gentle on the tyres like the SF-24 the tyres may not warm up quickly. Tyres that are warmed will be able to have better grip and thus go faster. So if you have a car that isn't warming the tyres on the first laps enough for maximum performance then there exists a window where it is possible to go faster in later laps. This window can be widened by a driver's specific car setup choices as well as driving. The wider a driver can keep this window the longer they can maintain zero to negative deg. This is I believe what is going on with the SF-24.

So basically if you drive and achieve almost zero deg at first, you are essentially still on new tyres and thus when you want to push to go faster or increase your speed you can. This is a very oversimplified explanation and it doesn't apply to every single instance where we have seen a driver achieve this but you get the idea.

You see this in miniature with some laps for some drivers, if they have a really clean lap you often see them able to do a slightly faster lap or an identical lap on the next one because they didn't degrade as much as expected. It's the sheer consistency in not wearing the tyres or achieving minimal wear over many many laps in a row that gets into the territory we saw with Charles in Suzuka.

However doing this in practice is difficult. The driver's personal setup and the way they drive plays a massive role. So in Suzuka for Charles to pull that off he essentially had to make zero mistakes when it came to slippage on the corners (and he was almost perfect minus that one slip we all saw onto the curb) If he'd made any consistent mistakes that would have added to the wear on the tyres and he wouldn't have been able to last anywhere near as long.

I will say that because a driver doesn't do this it doesn't mean they are doing something wrong. Most drivers operate under the expectation that the tyres will degrade at a predictable rate.

This is a phenomenon that also would not be possible every race, or at every track etc. Conditions do also have to be right. This will probably be impossible in say Qatar, the heat will just be too great for this to come up there.

It's very situation and skill dependent. Both things must align to achieve it. Also obviously you have to have a car that is gentle on the tyres, without that kind of base it doesn't matter how good you are the tyres will still degrade. There is a reason we've only seen this in the top 2 - 4 drivers on the grid at any given time, and that is because the skill to pull it off with so few mistakes is not to be under-stated.

Tyre data would be able to help us understand this better but detailed tyre telemetry is unfortunately not made available by teams. This telemetry records the rate of wear lap to lap, tyre temperature etc. So teams get to use this data to further understand these things in their car and their driver.

I hope this helps at least a little. This is really asking about one of the cutting edge physics topics in F1 that not even some teams fully understand. And since we don't get the detailed data it's really hard to look at what the actual relationships at play are.

What we can do is look at the results we get, the lap times a car and driver generate and we can understand the car behavior that way.

#luci answers #car technical talk

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aawestautomotive · 1 year ago

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Get the best new car servicing services Windsor from expert mechanics at AA West Automotive at the best prices. Contact us for the best services.

#new car service mcgraths hill #car tyres windsor #car service near me #tyre shop near me #car services #car service windsor

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chibrary · 11 months ago

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ARTICLE: AS A ROOKIE IN THE SHIFTER CLASS (AT 15 YEARS OF AGE) HE WON THE WINTER CUP… WITH A FEVER! (2022)

source: mattia livraghi, tkart series: karting, 2013

Among the classes of international karting there is one that represents the arrival point in the career of a professional kart driver: KZ. First it was called Formula C, then KZ1, but the name matters little, the essence is that we are talking about the top class, in which super experts race, even at 20-30 years of age. People who have practically nothing more to learn and who by profession demolish the new recruits, the rookies, until these, based on many overtakings and after a lot of competitions, cut their teeth and enter by right, in turn, in this small circle of drivers who are referred to as "the senators". But every now and then, to tell the truth, very rarely, particular rookies appear on the karting scene capable of overturning this practice. As in 2013, when in the opening round of the season, the Winter Cup at the South Garda Karting in Lonato, a teenager from Monte carlo showed up who, despite being physically KO, decided that certain habits ... were not his cup of tea.

It is 17 February 2013 and it is cold, as it should be on a winter Sunday when you are near Brescia, precisely at South Garda Karting in Lonato, for the Winter Cup. KZ was not scheduled for that weekend, so all the top drivers of the premier class poured into KZ2, which had something like 70 entrants. Among these, names that have marked or would go on to mark the history of karting: Davide Forè, Marco Ardigò, Paolo De Conto, Arnaud Kozlinski, Bas Lammers, Anthony Abbasse, Ben Hanley, Patrik Hajek, Roberto Toninelli, Fabian Federer, Yannick de Brabander, Flavio Camponeschi and Rick Dreezen, just to name a few in no particular order. However, there was also a boy from Monte Carlo born in 1997. His name is Charles Leclerc and he had already made himself known globally for his excellent results (above all by winning the 2011 CIK-FIA World Cup in KF3, the junior class of single speed karts at that time) in the other classes in which he competed. After a 2012 in KF2 (the year in which the now famous long-distance bickering with Max Verstappen occured, which we talk about in the article "Editorial - Leclerc vs Verstappen: the true story of the first clash in the days of karting"), his manager and Charles's team manager decided that the time had come for him to gain experience with "the seniors", in KZ and KZ2.

Charles did not hold back. To the contrary: "He was very motivated and eager to start his journey in shifter karts - Marco Lombardi told us, his mechanic in ART Grand Prix, the brand and the team for which Leclerc was racing at the time, also because he always wanted a more performing vehicle. He was thrilled to have the sensation of feeling closer to racing cars”. Leclerc had his first race ever in a shifter kart two weeks before the Winter Cup, in Muro Leccese, on the occasion of the first round of the WSK Master Series, where he finished in sixth position. His team manager Armando Filini, a historical face in karting, as well as one of the best chassis builders in the sector, was not that surprised by the disarming naturalness with which the young driver form Monte Carlo took his first steps in the new class: "I have known him since he was little, because Jules (Bianchi, editor's note) was his mechanic in France in the MINI class and brought him to me in Maranello Kart for his debut in the Junior class. Charles was very smart: he quickly adapted to everything. At any race he participated in, with any type of tyre, there was no need to spend a lot of time studying the track or anything else: he was already racing strongly at 90%, so it was much easier to get good results with him."But it's the difficulties that make certain stories worth telling.

Charles Leclerc heads to the track together with his mechanic Marco Lombardi.

Leclerc talks to Lombardi and Piergiorgio Ballarini, another mechanic who was working with him at the time, while he is leaning on his kart (ART GP - TM Racing), just outside the ART Grand Prix team tent.

Do you think that the Winter Cup, in the rookie class, could represent a fairly intense and arduous challenge? You would be wrong. In fact, another factor complicates things for Leclerc, the absolute co-protagonist of this story: a fever. That's right, Charles Leclerc showed up at the Winter Cup with a 39°C fever. "From the first days it was clear that he was not in great shape and from Friday he was not at all well", admits Lombardi. “He had flu and was physically weak. At the end of the day, after having raced, he was completely down and out”. A physical condition for which most mere mortals would stay in bed to rest, the most daring, perhaps, on the sofa watching TV. Instead, the fifteen-year-old from Monte Carlo was on the bends of a kart track taming a vehicle with a weight/power ratio comparable to that of the best road supercars. But on one condition: "I told him, Lombardi remembers, 'Look, if you have a high fever, at least skip the last free practice session', but he replied with an endless series of 'No'. He wanted to get on the kart and race to the last, regardless of everything". In the end, a short trip to the pharmacy, accompanied by the engineer of the ART Grand Prix, to buy some medicines was a must. But the real therapy for Charles seems to be another, as Lombardi explains: "When driving adrenaline kicked in, it was so intense that it gave the impression that his fever had passed". This allowed the young driver form Monte Carlo to work at it and improve during free practices: “His driving was quite clean. The problem arose when the track was a bit more slippery, like in the early rounds and he, despite this, wanted to see the time, even if the track was 'slow'. He complained if they gave him two tenths, not considering that there were more experienced drivers who knew how to adapt better to those conditions".

Leclerc laughs with Lombardi before entering the track.

Leclerc celebrates, together with Lombardi, the success he achieved, with a fever, at the 2013 Winter Cup.

It goes without saying that when Charles sets the 11th best time in the qualifiers, with his TM Racing powered ART GP, he was anything but satisfied: "He had suffered at the beginning because the track was was not rubberizing quickly and he loved grip", explains Marco. "He was a driver who tended to always keep his foot down, so in the first races in KZ he found himself in difficulty in slippery track conditions: he forced too much and wore the tyres a lot". But Charles does not lose heart: “he was demoralized, continues Lombardi, but he motivated himself as soon as he got back on the kart the following morning. When he was unable to do something, he was even more motivated and in any case it was enough to explain things to him once: he immediately took everything literally and put it into practice". In fact, Charles performed very well in the various heats, winning a second place as the best result and climbing up to eighth place in the general rankings. Thanks to his driving style, more and more effective with an increasingly rubberized track, and to excellent teamwork, Leclerc continued to progress and, as the weekend continued, managed to take fifth position in the pre-final. Marco Lombardi recalls that he “always earned at least one or two positions at the start. It helped to have the driver in front as a reference point, which always pushed him to say: 'I have to go and get him, I have to overtake him". While the performances on the track improved, the same cannot be said of Leclerc’s physical conditions, still with flu and feverish.

In fact, on the day of the final, looking at his face, which was pale and suffering during the parade of the drivers, anything could be predicted except what would actually happen. Charles still managed to stay calm on the starting grid: "I always told him, Marco says, 'You already have a heavy foot, but in the race you have to use your head, especially when overtaking: study your opponent, identify the right moment to pass and be firm. Don't pretend, because if they take advantage of the driver behind and, with him, the group following him, five of them will take you". In short, a fifteen-year-old in a cage of lions: Leclerc dashed from the third row, while the first was occupied by his teammate Ben Hanley and the Birel De Conto standard bearer. “We had more of a chance with Hanley, admits Armando Filini. “With Charles we still didn't have the certainty of the final, we didn't know how he could behave over the duration”. Only a phenomenon can surprise even a long-time karting figure such as Filini, who had already seen it all… But he could not have imagined what he was to witness that day. Ready, go and already the first surprise: the driver from Monte Carlo darted off and, overtaking the entire row in front of him, moved into third position. The spectators were almost stunned seeing that cat-like leap and Armando reveals that it was not only Charles' skill that allows him to do certain things, but also his attitude: "When he had his teammate in front of him, he had to go and get him, even at the cost of trampling over others".

Ever since the traffic lights went out, the race was of an incredible sporting intensity. However, after an excellent start, Leclerc seemed to be in trouble: in fact, he was overtaken first by Ardigò and then by Forè. However, the driver form Monte Carlo maintained an impressive coolness and was not intimidated, even when he happened to miss a gear and risk being "devoured" by those behind him. "It was difficult to give him advice", Armando specifies. "He was very instinctive, so we also let him do his thing a little bit. Especially because he was a youngster and you couldn't think that he already had the mentality of a 30-year-old professional". Charles still asserted himself in the midst of more experienced and titled drivers, so much so that he took back third position towards the middle of the race, thanks to two masterpiece manoeuvers: the first against Forè, the second against Ardigò (two multiple world champions). Leclerc thus found himself in the wake of his teammate, who in turn was staying very close to the leader De Conto, but a few laps from the end Forè tried another attack on the driver from Monte Carlo and went far forwards, hitting Charles. Ardigò took the opportunity to overtake and the young driver of the ART Grand Prix team returned to fourth position, also losing some ground against his rivals in the lead. When the chequered flag was just around the corner, in a situation like this and in a class like KZ, most people would naturally throw in the towel and accept that the gap with the podium was now unbridgeable, especially if they then suffer a "blow" like this as a fifteen year old, in his second experience in the highest class of karting, with a 39°C fever.

The helmet that Leclerc used at the 2013 KZ world championship and with which he became vice world champion. Charles gave it to Lombardi, autographing it and referring to the nickname that Marco gave him: “Sgrintela”, which means “lizard”. The driver for Monte Carlo made a small mistake and wrote "Sgrintera".

Instead, Leclerc still managed to amaze. A few metres to make sure there was no damage and the driver from Monte Carlo went back to pushing himself, without being discouraged: "I had five or six drivers like Leclerc, including Bianchi, Barnicoat, Harvey and Hanley, but in my opinion Charles was the one who was hungrier, he wanted to achieve results as soon as possible”, Armando reveals. "The others had a little patience: they knew they had to learn and were aware that sometimes someone else could simply be faster and therefore there was little to do. On the contrary, he refused this possibility. Even when he knew that drivers from other teams were more incisive on a certain circuit, he had to find something to stay ahead. With this goal, therefore, he tormented everyone: me for the chassis, Franco Drudi of TM Racing for the engines and the telemetry operator. He was obsessed”. And Leclerc proved this determination precisely in the last rounds of that Winter Cup. In fact, the driver from Monte Carlo firstly got back into third position, taking advantage of a spin by Ardigò, caused by a rear-end collision by De Conto. Then, following a contact between De Conto and Hanley for the leadership of the race, he managed to overtake his teammate thanks to an extremely shrewd manoeuver: after receiving a body blow, Hanley was forced to widen and Charles dived right into that space: “It was a crucial moment of the race, he managed to take advantage of it (taking second place behind De Conto, editor's note) without coming into contact with anyone.

However, he then began to have some fears," admits Marco. The driver born in 1997 was one step away from completing an unthinkable feat and it was natural that even he would be a bit insecure: "He kept looking back, watching who was chasing him and I kept signalling him to look forwards" . But in the end Leclerc kept up the pressure and crossed the finish line in second position. The young driver from Monte Carlo let loose his joy, while the spectators started rubbing their eyes to understand if what they had seen was true: "I knew he could do well right from the start, but I honestly wasn't expecting a podium and it surprised me" Lombardi confides. “He didn't expect it either, considering the fever problem too. But he never gave up, he gave 100% to the last. He had gained confidence in seeing himself improve constantly over the course of the weekend and in the final he drove with a knife between his teeth”. A great effort that deserved a great prize. If, in fact, Charles was already enthusiastic about the silver medal and having kept his expert teammate behind him, the icing on the cake came when, after the award ceremony, he learned that De Conto had been given a penalty of five seconds for his manoeuver on Ardigò.

Leclerc thus inherited the victory and was over the moon: "he was really happy and didn't even seem sick anymore" remembers Marco. "It was his first really important race in shifter karts and there were all the drivers participating in the world championship. That Sunday evening, he had so much adrenaline in his body that he wanted to stay and eat with us, but at a certain point his father told him that it was time to go home". As a winner.

#series:karting #format:article #year:2013 #charles leclerc

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camillemontespan · 10 months ago

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The best mistake he never had [drake x Camille au] [part five]

‘Honestly, Camille, he's a total jerk,’ Maxwell sighed. ‘I shouldn't have gotten so mad but he boils my blood.’

Camille winced and settled down on her bed, tucking her long legs up underneath her. She was talking to Maxwell on the phone, hearing about his run in with Drake last night.

She appreciated how loyal Maxwell was but she sometimes wished he would just let her fight her own battles. He seemed to view her like a delicate flower, someone who could easily break, not someone who was strong and capable.

‘I appreciate you having my back,’ she said gently, ‘but you don't need to fight with him. Just let it go over your head. What's done is done.’

‘He doesn't understand how hurt you were-’

‘He does,’ Camille interrupted. ‘He just doesn't want reminding.’

The call finished soon after that. Camille let out a noise of frustration that sounded like ‘gnnnnngh fuck fuck gnnngh!’ and raked her hands through her hair.

She looked out the window and surveyed the street below. Aside from a few houses and some trees, it was bare and didn't have much to it. Her eyes followed the line of the street until she settled on Walker Ranch up the hill.

Her heart twinged.

In the distance, she saw Drake step outside the ranch. He stopped at his pick up truck.

He began to hose it down and wash it. Camille watched, her eyes focused on him. He looked small from this distance.

She wished she knew what he was thinking. Drake kept a wall around himself, one that she thought she had managed to climb years ago. Scale the wall and get to know the real Drake Walker.

Clearly, it hadn't worked.

**************************

‘Mommy, can I go ride my bike?’ Lily asked.

‘Depends..’ Camille mused. ‘Have you finished the first lesson sent from school?’

She looked over Lily's shoulder at the laptop screen. Thank god Lily's teacher had been understanding and allowed Camille to take Lily to Texas during school times. Lily was currently being emailed online learning and she was working through it, happy to learn something new.

Happy that Lily had completed her maths lesson, Camille allowed her to take a thirty minute break.

Lily trundled her bike outside and clipped her pink helmet onto her head. After Camille had shouted at her about talking to Drake, she had decided that she was only going to cycle today and NOT speak to anyone under ANY circumstances. Especially if they had a horse.

She hitched her leg over the seat and began to cycle along the road away from her grandmothers house.

Lily cycles up the hill, nearing the ranch. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Drake who was washing his truck.

Nooooo!! she wailed to herself.

Drake looked up and gave her a weak smile. Lily watched him, keeping her eyes narrowed. She was NOT going to smile back. No.

She cycled faster to get away from him. Blinded by sheer determination, she didn't see the small rock on the road. As the front tyre hit it, the bike jolted, giving Lily a fright.

In her shock, she couldn't correct herself in time and without warning, she went flying off the bike.

She let out a piercing scream as she hit the ground.

***********

‘Lily!’

Drake abandoned his truck and ran across the road to where Lily lay on her side, the bike tangled up amongst her legs.

He reached her and sank down to his knees, gently picking the bike off her.

Lily was whimpering with tears streaming down her cheeks.

‘Shh it's okay, honey..’ Drake murmured. ‘Where do you hurt?’

A weird feeling had flooded Drake. He hadn't meant to call her ‘honey’ for one thing.

‘M-my head..’

‘Okay, look at me. Lily, look at me, it's okay-’

‘No!’ Lily shouted. ‘I’m n-not allowed to talk to you!’

Drake closed his eyes and exhaled. ‘Lily, I can help you. Let me just check your head-’

‘Lily!’

Drake turned to see Camille running up the hill towards them.

Fuck.

‘Mommy..’ Lily croaked.

Camille reached the pair of them, her eyes casting along Drake before settling on her daughter. She kneeled down close to Lily and gently scooped her up. ‘Baby, where are you hurt?’

‘My head-’

Camille’s eyes darted to Drake in panic. ‘It’s okay, baby. We'll just have to get you to the hospital just in case -’

‘Am I going to die?’ Lily asked in a small voice.

‘No, baby,’ Camille said softly. ‘You’ve just hit your head and the doctor will need to take a look at it.’

Drake studied Camille, a picture of worry and anxiety, and then looked Lily. ‘You know, she might not need a hospital. It could be okay. Lily, how’s your vision?’

‘Uhhhh..’

‘Are there two of me?’ Drake asked, half joking. He needed to make this light. Make her not worry. Make Camille not worry.

‘Just you,’ Lily told him. She snuggled into Camille, her small fingers gripped on Camille's sweater.

‘Thank god there's only one of me, can you imagine a world with two of me? Awful!’ Drake joked.

Lily giggled. Camille smiled faintly.

‘Right, since you can see only one of me, and you aren't babbling nonsense,’ Drake said, taking control, ‘let’s just get you a cold compress and keep you rested, okay?’

Lily furrowed her eyebrows together, looking rather serious. ‘So, no hospital?’

Drake looked at Camille. ‘She seems fine,’ he said gently. ‘We could monitor her and if she needs medical attention, then hospital it is.’

Camille didn't look convinced. Drake cleared his throat. ‘But hey, you're the boss, Camille.’

He felt he had overstepped.

Camille bit her lip. ‘Okay, let's clean up that head wound,’ she decided, ‘and see how you're feeling in an hour. How's that sound Lily?’

Lily grinned, happy to escape going to hospital.

Camille picked her up carefully and looked up at Drake. He watched her warily, unsure if she was going to give him hell again.

‘Thank you for looking after her,’ Camille finally said.

Drake gave her a small smile. ‘No worries. I'm here if you need anything.’

It was the wrong and most inappropriate thing to say. Camille’s eyes narrowed and she stepped back with Lily in her arms.

‘Let’s get that cold compress, sweetie,’ she said in a clipped voice.

She turned to walk down the street towards Gisele's. Lily looked over Camille’s shoulder at Drake, who stood watching them.

Despite herself, Lily raised her hand and discreetly waved at him. He did help her after all.

Drake smiled weakly and waved back

*******

Camille cleaned Lily up, cleaning the head wound which had stopped bleeding, before gently cleaning her hands that were cut from stones.

‘There, all better now,’ Camille said, pressing a soft kiss on Lily's hand. She gave Lily a cold compress for her head with instructions to lie in bed and relax.

Disaster averted.

****************

‘M-mommy?’

Camille had been busy checking in on Gisele who was sleeping at the moment. She slept a lot lately. She was tiny and fragile, like a baby bird.

Camille looked up to see Lily looking pale and quite faint. Alarmed, she stood up and moved to crouch down so she was eye level with Lily.

‘Lily, are you okay?’

‘I feel woozy..’

‘Right, hospital,’ Camille decided. She quickly cast a look at Gisele who was snoring softly. She couldn't leave Gisele by herself - she needed help with moving and she hadn't had anything to eat yet.

But Lily needed medical attention.

Camille bit her lip. She thought of Drake. She really didn't want to ask him. But she couldn't let pride get in the way here. She had to think of Lily.

‘Okay, honey, stay here, I'll be right back. Go lie down beside grandma.’

Lily nodded obediently. Camille rushed downstairs and out the front door, running up to Walker Ranch.

She knocked on the door rapidly.

Drake opened it and his eyes widened. ‘Camille? Is Lily alright?’

‘No,’ Camille burst out. ‘She’s feeling woozy. I need to take her to the hospital but I can't leave grandma-’

‘I’ll take you to the hospital,’ Drake interrupted, ‘and my mom can look after Gisele.’

Camille blinked. ‘I can just take a cab-’

‘No.’

Drake hollered for Bianca who hurried to the door, her eyebrows knitted together with concern.

She insisted on looking after Gisele. Drake gave Camille a smile. ‘Come on, let's go.’

*******************

Camille sat in the back of the pick up trick with Lily nestled against her. Drake drove, trying his best not to keep looking in the rear view mirror.

Every time he did, his eyes would lock onto Camille's and his breath would catch.

Her eyes were gorgeous. Drake had always thought that. Almond shaped, deep brown like chocolate with golden flecks.

Those eyes were filled with anxiety now. Not for the first time, Drake wondered when Camille had become so tightly wound. She used to be so carefree. Now, she looked ready to pounce just in case the worst happened.

Or maybe she was just a mom who had responsibilities now and she wouldn't rest easy again.

Drake felt his stomach twist. It was his fault she was like this.

They reached the hospital. Camille carried Lily in her arms as they entered the foyer, practically racing to the reception desk.

‘My daughter fell off her bike and hit her head,’ she explained quickly, ‘and now she's feeling woozy.’

The receptionist told them to sit down and a doctor would be with them.

Lily looked around the waiting room apprehensively. She'd never been in a hospital before. The smell made her want to be sick and the worried look on her mother's face made her wish that she'd never ridden the bike in the first place.

She caught Drake’s eye. He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It’ll be alright,’ he told her. ‘I promise.’

**************

Lily had to stay overnight so the doctors could monitor her, just in case.

‘But I don't want to be away from mommy!’ Lily wailed at the doctor, scrambling to get closer to Camille.

Camille took her in her arms and held her close. ‘Shh honey, it's okay -’

‘I don't want to be alone!’

The doctor smiled sympathetically. ‘You won't be alone,’ he said. ‘You’ll have a comfy bed in the kids ward. A few kids are already there, you might make friends.’

Lily shot a panicked look at Camille. She did NOT want to stay overnight.

‘It’s only for the night,’ Camille told her softly. ‘It’s to make sure you're safe. I promise, I'll be here first thing tomorrow morning to pick you up and we can get McDonalds. Would you like that?’

Lily clenched her fists in frustration. She didn't want to argue with Camille but she didn't want to stay here, in this weird smelling place, in a bed that wasn't hers.

But the doctor would make sure she was okay and that meant her mommy wouldn't worry and that was the important thing to remember.

She nodded mutely, accepting her fate.

The doctor smiled. ‘The kids ward is an animal theme!’ he said cheerfully. ‘Do you like animals?’

Lily smiled now. ‘I love animals,’ she said quietly.

Camille squeezed her hand. ‘There you go, baby.’

*************

After Lily was taken to the kids ward, Drake and Camille left the hospital.

Camille sat in the front passenger seat and looked out the window quietly, chewing anxiously on a fingernail.

‘She’s gonna be okay,’ Drake said, breaking the silence.

Camille looked down at her hands. ‘We’ve never spent a night apart before. It feels… like a part of me is missing. Something vital. Because she is.’

Her eyes filled with tears.

Drake bit his lip, unsure how to handle this. He wasn't good with crying women.

Come on. Say something to her. Help her feel better.

‘She’s a firecracker,’ Drake said. ‘She’s a strong girl, just like her mama. She's going to be fine and it'll be tomorrow before you know it.’

Camille let out a shaky breath and nodded. ‘I know,’ she croaked. ‘I just want her to be happy and safe and right now it feels like she isn't. What if it gets worse? What if she gets more woozy and gets sick? What if-’

‘Camille.’

Drake pulled the truck over and turned off the ignition. He turned to face her. Tears had started to fall down her cheeks.

He sighed. Slowly, he reached out and gently wiped her tears away. Camille stared at him with wide eyes, her lower lip trembling.

‘Nothing is going to happen to Lily,’ he said softly, enunciating every word. ‘She’s got doctors to monitor her and she'll be sleeping in an animal themed ward. She'll be comfortable and safe. Tomorrow morning, I will drive you to the hospital first thing to take her home. She's going to be fine.’

Their eyes bore into each others. Drake could feel himself getting lost in her golden flecks.

‘Drake…’ Camille murmured.

Drake swallowed. ‘Yeah?’

Camille’s eyes remained fixed on his. Drake couldn't breathe. He could feel his heart starting to hammer inside his chest.

‘Why did you make that decision five years ago?’ Camille finally asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Drake blinked. He hadn't been expecting her to ask him that question.

‘I.. Camille, I can't..’

Camille pulled back. In an instant, Drake could see her closing off to him. She rubbed her wet eyes harshly and cleared her throat.

‘Forget I even asked,’ she said, her voice remote. ‘Don’t know what I was expecting you to say. You didn't give answers then, you're not going to give answers now.’

She turned to look out of the window, her arms crossed.

Drake gripped the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. ‘Camille, I'm sorry -’

‘Just fucking drive.’

Drake exhaled and turned the key in the ignition. He stole a glance at Camille who continued to stare out the window. Her jaw was set.

Drake had done a good job building up his walls through the years.

Clearly, so had Camille.

***************

Drake pulled up outside Gisele's. They had driven in silence which had been excruciating.

Camille unclipped her seatbelt. ‘Thank you for taking us to the hospital,’ she said formally.

She sounded so far away.

Drake closed his eyes. He needed to do it. Now was the time. They were alone.

‘Camille, I wasn't cut out to be a dad,’ he finally said. ‘Can you imagine me as a dad?’

Camille kept her gaze fixed on the window. ‘You ARE a dad, Drake.’

‘You know what I mean.’

Camille shrugged. ‘You seemed pretty happy talking to Lily. Letting her groom Lone Star. Helping fix her up. Trying to help her feel better about the hospital.’

‘She was panicking, I had to say something to help her calm down -’

‘You didn't have to,’ Camille interrupted. Her voice was dangerously rising now.

‘You could have kept your distance. You could have let us just take a cab to the hospital. But you keep turning up and you're slowly getting to know her. And yet you don't want any part of her.’

Drake exhaled. ‘That’s not fair, Camille -’

Camille whipped around to face him, her eyes filled with fury. ‘No, Drake! What's unfair is you showing up all the time without warning! I'm trying to look after my grandma and make sure Lily is comfortable here and I keep looking over my shoulder wondering if you're suddenly going to be in the background. You can't reject me five years ago and never contact me again and then when I visit, you're here! THAT is not fair, Drake.’

Drake slammed his hands on the steering wheel. ‘She fell off her bike, what was I supposed to do-’

‘YOU DON'T DRIVE US TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL!’ Camille screamed. Drake jumped back in shock.

‘You don't act like a fucking father!’ she continued, her voice high and piercing, every word cutting into Drake like a knife.

‘You don't act all concerned and reassuring! You keep your fucking distance because if you didn't want to be a dad five years ago, you certainly don't want to be a dad now and I can't have Lily falling in love with you like I did -’

‘What?’

That last admission was all Drake picked up on.

Camille instantly went rigid. She turned away and brought her hands up to her face, covering her eyes.

‘Oh god..’ she muttered. ‘Oh god, oh god…’

‘You loved me?’ Drake asked.

Camille didn't answer. She was shaking.

‘Camille, answer me.’

Camille let out a shaky breath. She wound her hands together and not looking at him, she spoke.

‘I fell for you that night,’ she told him. ‘Sounds ridiculous. How can you fall in love with someone in one night? But I've known you for years and always liked you. Thought you were gorgeous in a rugged, disheveled way. But that night, getting to know you, talking till 3am about our secrets and dreams, being together… I fell over the edge. It makes no sense but I guess when you get that feeling, you can't deny it. You called it a drunken mistake but for me, it was a revelation.’

Drake stared at the steering wheel, processing her words. How could he tell her that everything he said to her, after finding out about the baby, was a lie?

It hadn't been a drunken mistake for him, not really. He had loved being with Camille that night. Everything had felt like it was supposed to. Like the universe had aligned.

‘But when I told you I was pregnant and you were so harsh… I realised I was stupid to have feelings for you,’ Camille explained. ‘I felt so rejected. Worthless. I couldn't hear staying in the same town as you, seeing you everyday and I didn't want my baby to grow up knowing you. If you could hurt me that badly, you could hurt her. And I still think that.’

A lump formed in Drake’s throat.

‘Then why did you ask me why I made that decision five years ago?’ he asked.

Camille kept her eyes away from him. ‘Closure.’

Without a word, she got out of the truck. She slammed the door. The sound jolted Drake. He watched her walk away and it felt like deja vu.

#drake walker #trr fanfic #the royal romance #drake walker x mc #drake x camille #trr #choices the stories you play

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