#race angst
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cherry-leclerc Ā· 7 months ago
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cherry cola ā˜† op81
genre: smut, humor, yearning, tiny bit of fluff, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, experienced!oscar, sub!reader (for a while!), dom!oscar (for a while!)
word count: 8.5k
After a painful break up, Oscar finds himself head-to-head with an enticing girl, filled with pure innocence. Also known as, his parents secret weapon, and his worst temptation.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...f!receiving, fingering, brief mentions of masturbation, face riding, missionary sex, doggy style
inspired by this !
cherry here!... hellooo anons, long time, no see haha sorry for the lack of posts, but hopefully this makes up for it, somehow? formal apology for my last post too while we're at it. though this fic is inspired by cola by lana del rey, it will not have a sour ending like past fics (iykyk). missed u all, so here ya go! enjoy :)
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There is an apprehensive sensation that towers over him as soon as she walks in; shy mannered, tall, and firm with a hint of hesitationā€”itā€™s something he adores about her, but also something that has him feeling jittery. Oftentimes, her lips are his most prized possession, enjoying the way they move. All except at this very moment.Ā 
Everyone notices his bitter, broken, and quiet mood despite always laying low. Heā€™s never been one to share his problems with others, and he most definitely was not going to start now. It should be the best moment of the seasonā€”his first winā€”but he doesnā€™t have the joy to celebrate it with anyone.Ā 
Oscarā€™s brown eyes are low and dull; empty. Heā€™d be a damn liar if he said he didnā€™t see any of this coming. If he didnā€™t feel an ounce of guilt and misery. Should he have been more attentive, a better boyfriend, then he wouldnā€™t be regretting his life choices. Dramatic, but true.Ā 
ā€œHow are you spending your summer break? Are you and Lily traveling?ā€
The Australian tries to scoff at the innocent inquiry beaming from his teammate, but he settles with a wince, not being able to hide it. ā€œShe, umā€¦we broke up, actually.ā€ Heā€™s never been a religious individualā€”has never even set foot inside a churchā€”but for the first time in his life, he prayed no more questions would be asked.
Lando raises his thick brows, clearly surprised by the sudden confession. Sure, they were a private coupleā€”likely the most in the entire paddockā€”but he never saw this coming from Oscar and Lily. Though he only met her a couple of times, simply exchanging a kind greeting, he wouldā€™ve bet his entire Rolex collection that the couple were smitten with one another. ā€œAh, Iā€™m sorry, mate.ā€
The rude sound of his race suit being zipped up harshly makes the Brit flinch in the slightest. ā€œDonā€™t worry about it. Thatā€™s life, no?ā€
Costa Ricaā€”they were supposed to go to Costa Rica. Instead, now, he sits alone on a flight back to his home country. Heā€™s ecstatic to be sleeping in his childhood room with outdated posters hung of all his favorite drivers, but the feeling lingers.Ā 
Sprawled like a koala, humid t-shirt pressed against his skin, he tosses and turns for an estimate of five whole minutes. He should be enjoying the beach, sipping on highly sweetened margaritas, getting the worst tan of his life, but heā€™s here. The hot summer air in Melbourne makes him spit out a string of dirty curses that would send his mum into a coma.Ā 
The brunette might as well be an only child since not a single one of his three sisters were here to keep him company, ditching him with his parents. He loved them, of course he did, but a full house was his ideal way to spend his break. His home gym isnā€™t even enough to help him forget, even for a second.Ā 
ā€œDinner is ready, honey,ā€ Nicole announces, peeking carefully through the crack of the door. She grins widely. ā€œThereā€™s even pavlovaā€”your favorite.ā€
He forces a polite nod, shaggy hair dangling just above his eyes. ā€œThank you. Iā€™ll be out in a bit.ā€ It actually takes a sum of thirty-minutes for him to jog down the stairs, a strong scent of apple expanding from his now washed hair. His dad hums as soon as he spots the McLaren driver.Ā 
ā€œItā€™s rude to leave guests waiting, Oscar,ā€ he warns with a deep voice.Ā 
The twenty-three year old assumes itā€™s a lame dad joke, perhaps, so runs along with it, taking a good look around the dining room. ā€œWonā€™t happen again. I showeredā€”ā€
ā€œWhere would you like to place the dessert, Mrs. Piastri?ā€ a soft voice echoes down the hallway as he turns at the unfamiliar tone. You halt, caught off guard by the new presence. ā€œIā€™m sorry, I didnā€™t know you would be here.ā€Ā 
ā€œIn my own home?ā€ he finds himself squeaking involuntarily. The stern look that dances across his parents faces is enough for him to bite down on his tongue. He doesnā€™t even know why he said any of thatā€”especially to a stranger.Ā 
They introduce you two quickly, though youā€™re just as fast as to say that you obviously knew about his existence. Do you follow my races? You shake your head, glossy hair shining. ā€œI work for your parents, soā€¦I sort of know. Plus, your sisters always talk highly about you when youā€™re gone.ā€
He blinks. ā€œYou work here?ā€ Brown eyes flicker to his parents, confusion written all over. ā€œWhat could she possibly do?ā€
ā€œOscar,ā€ Nicole scolds. ā€œI thought you left all the unnecessary questions back in junior high.ā€
Chris slides a large hand over her smaller one, calming her down just a tad bit. The older man sighs. ā€œYou know your mum, always looking for something new to doā€”ā€
ā€œI wanted to grow a garden!ā€ she squeals, delighted. ā€œLike in all those magazines you get me for my birthdayā€”oh, so lovely, honey. Only I realized, I donā€™t know anything about gardening.ā€
ā€œAnd this lovely girl standing right here is a total natural. Her hands must be magic.ā€ Oscar blushes hard at his dads choice of words. ā€œSheā€™s helping us out for the time being. Until we get back.ā€
The Australian's mouth opens, then snaps back shut, swallowing. ā€œGet back from where?ā€
ā€œCosta Rica!ā€
He gapes. ā€œYouā€™re using my tickets?ā€
Nicole winces. ā€œCanā€™t let them go to waste, honeyā€¦ā€
His father butts in. ā€œHow is Lily by the way?ā€
The brunette groans, running his hands through his waves. ā€œHow should I know? Come on, you guys canā€™t be serious.ā€ The tickets werenā€™t the problem; the fact that they were leaving was.Ā  He spots you awkwardly placing the pastry down onto the table. ā€œCan you give us a minute?ā€Ā 
ā€œYes, of course,ā€ you quip, glad to have a reason to flee far enough away from the premises. You turn to the Piastriā€™s who smile fondly at your understanding. ā€œIā€™ll be out in the garden.ā€
As soon as you rush out, the twenty-three year old turns swiftly. ā€œI guess Iā€™m leaving too.ā€
ā€œDonā€™t you dare, Oscar Jack Piastriā€”ā€ He fumes. ā€œWhy not? Youā€™re all going to be gone!ā€
ā€œShe wonā€™tā€”you are keeping her company.ā€ Sheā€™s not asking; sheā€™s demanding. Staring back in shock, the McLaren driver avoids eye contact, fidgeting like a kid at their first day of school. His mum stands up, makes her way over, and pecks his soft cheek. ā€œSheā€™s a sweet girl. She wonā€™t be a botherā€”sheā€™s just down the hallway.ā€
Thatā€™s where Lily would always stay back when they first started their relationship; too afraid of making a bad impression on his parents. He found it adorable. He rolls his eyes and releases a heavy breath. ā€œFine.ā€ He stares out the glass window, focusing on where you patiently sit on the wooden bench, delicate hands pressing your dress down against your thighs. ā€œFine...ā€
-
The following morning, his parents wake him up at the crack of dawn, bidding goodbye. It comes as a total surprise, thinking he had a few more days left with them, but no. Heā€™s barely registering any of it before they whisper inaudible nonsense and scurry out of his bedroom.Ā 
After some debating, he changes and decides to go on a quick run. The sight of Ms. Alleck watering her burnt grass makes him smile as he sets off. It would have been easier to not get as tired if it were a slight bit chilly, but itā€™s blazing hot. He cuts it short, dashing back home and immediately serving himself a glass of cold water.Ā 
ā€œYouā€™re up early.ā€
The brown eyed boy jumps in sudden surprise. Standing in a pastel yellow sleeping gown, you grin brightly. Long lashes lay flat, nose pinching rosy pink, and breath minty. ā€œYeah, my folks sort of woke me up. Couldnā€™t fall back asleep.ā€
ā€œOh.ā€ You pout. ā€œThey left already?ā€
ā€œYou knew?ā€
ā€œYup. They mentioned it last night before bed.ā€ A beat. ā€œI hope me staying here isnā€™t making you uncomfortableā€¦itā€™s just that they offered, andā€”ā€
ā€œItā€™s not.ā€ Lie. ā€œMake yourself at home.ā€
Not much is seen or heard from him for the majority of the day; occasional glaces coming here and there. They put you in an uncomfortable spot yesterdayā€”you had been working on the garden for a year now, damn itā€”but their son's demeanor took you by surprise. The pictures and stories were something you relied on as the only source of getting to know him: polite, tall, and swankyā€”boyish.
That was so far from the truth. Oscar Piastri has grown into his body; almost appearing to be a handsome giant. Despite his warm face, his attitude is a bit snarky. He has no problem in saying whatā€™s on his mind. And he is most definitely not a boy.Ā 
Heā€™s a man.
ā€œWhat do you say?ā€Ā 
ā€œSorry?ā€Ā 
He chuckles, Adam's Apple dancing up and down. ā€œWould you like to join me for dinner?ā€
It wasn't his intention to try and get close to youā€”not purposefully, at leastā€”but he thought; why not? Who knows when his parents are coming back, when his sisters would, and he wanted to prove to you that he wasnā€™t some snotty guy. Summer is summer, after all. A friend to spend it with sounds quite nice.
Pursing your red lips, you nod, setting your book aside. The dinner table is already set up. Chicken and rice. Thatā€™s it. Given, it looks and smells amazing, but plain. You quirk a brow. ā€œArenā€™t you supposed to eat your greens? To drive quicker?ā€ He burns up at you teasing tone.
ā€œI didnā€™t want to risk burning the house down. Weā€™re lucky I was able to get even this done.ā€
ā€œVery well.ā€ The refrigerator opens, colorful veggies staring back at him. You grin, slow and easy. ā€œIā€™ll take care of it. Itā€™s only fair, roomie.ā€
-
Oscar left home a few years ago, migrating to the United Kingdom for work, so it had been a while since he had stepped foot in his backyard. He faintly remembers his pirate treehouse, his sistersā€™ Barbieā€™s cluttered inside. It was a bone-chilling sight for baby Oscar back then, but now, the paint is chipping off, the wood looks a lot weaker. Itā€™s a nostalgic feeling.
The new additions are stunning. A bunch of healthy flowers beam back at him and he swallows when he realizes he canā€™t name a single one. Waxflowers, Calamint, Dahlias, Peonies, Carnations, California Poppies. One by one, he admires with an open mouth. ā€œTheyā€™re beautiful.ā€ He turns to you with a proud smile. ā€œYouā€™ve done an excellent job.ā€
Pink feathers onto your already blushed cheeks, biting back a cheesy grin. You had decided to eat out on the bench, choosing to enjoy the now fresh air. Still humid, but less than before. The scent of coconut sunscreen makes his whiff constantly. ā€œSoā€¦Costa Rica?ā€
He winces. It was too soon to talk about the situation, but something in your calm voice makes it easier to spit it out even though you probably already heard from his parents. All of a sudden, your savory carrots taste like complete shit. ā€œTā€™was supposed to go with my girlfā€”my ex. My ex-girlfriend.ā€Ā 
You pout, sorrowfully. ā€œOh, Iā€™m sorry, Oscar. I didnā€™t mean toā€¦I had no clue.ā€ And itā€™s genuine. Guess his parents werenā€™t complete traitors.Ā 
ā€œTell meā€”how long have you been working on fixing the garden?ā€
ā€œSince last summer,ā€ you hum, chewing down on a piece of grilled chicken. ā€œThis is the first time I have actually stayed here, though. Your parents are sweet. As soon as they heard that you were coming back home, they insisted I kept you company.ā€
Sharp jaw clenches and he scoffs. You simply blink back innocently. Then, he notices it. The way it reflects against the yellow ray of the now setting sun. He knows what it is, so he doesnā€™t ask. Too busy staring off into the distance, you place your plate down. ā€œLet me show you a few other things Iā€™ve been working on.ā€
Thereā€™s row and row, further into the open area; every twist and turn makes his brows raise up higher, impressed by the noticeable updates. Coming to a halt, he spins his head around, brown locks hitting his temples. ā€œSince when do we have a cherry tree?ā€
You beam, orbs shining with excitement. ā€œSince last summer!ā€ you repeat, cheerfully. You pick one, handing it for him to try. An embarrassing moan erupts once the sweet nectar slides down his throat. ā€œGood?ā€
ā€œBloody amazing.ā€ Every compliment makes you squeal with delight. ā€œMy mum is actually allergic to cherries, so howā€¦ā€
ā€œShe was actually the one who brought it up. Said she knew how much I loved them, and that I deserved a little something for flourishing her garden. I couldnā€™t deny the chance to do so.ā€ You bite down on your lip, sheepishly. ā€œThey are my favorite.ā€
Reaching for one makes him look away as soon as your dress rises up, soft legs poking through. Bare feet press against the wet grass as you tippy toe. He mustered a fake cough, but as soon as you bite down onto the bloody fruit, he clicks into a trance.Ā 
Plump lips; thick and juicy. Long lashes fluttering shut against your glossy cheeks. That could have been because of the summer heat, but it affected him just the same. The familiar sensation of attraction rushes to his cock as he stands stifflyā€”but also loosely. He was loose. So fucking loose.
Something hits his cheekbones and it rips him away from his drooling. A singular seed now lays by his feet; indicating what you had done. A crinkled, wobbly smile shines back at him, hands nervously flattening your dress back down. The Australian jokingly lunges towards you as you squeal, backing away.Ā 
ā€œYou were disintegrating! I had to get your attention one way or another!ā€
Oh, you definitely got his attention. Giving you one final scowl, he stops his steps. ā€œEverythingā€”all of itā€”itā€™s great. Thank you.ā€ The wind picks up and you shiver. ā€œ...for doing this for my parents.ā€
Neat hair flies against the breeze, covering your eyes for a minute. Pushing it aside, you scrunch your nose faintly. ā€œAnytime.ā€
-
Technically, what youā€™re getting paid for was to watch over the beloved yard; thatā€™s all. But you offer to do more. Mow the lawn? Paint the chipped wall? Wash the windows?
ā€œGod no, darling,ā€ Oscarā€™s mum laughs through the end of the line. ā€œYou are doing enough already. Please. Relax.ā€
But you canā€™t. Nibbling on your thumb, you brush the counter, strolling past countless family portraits. A smile slips when you spot a toothless Oscar. ā€œI insist.ā€
So, here you are; decluttering the attic. After a bit of bickering with Nicole, she eventually gives in and asks for a favor. Clean and tidy the small room. Easy peasy.Ā 
ā€œOuch,ā€ you hiss when a nail digs through your skin, gore immediately pouring out of you like a waterfall; you squeak. Just then, a certain brunette peeks their head through the entrance.
ā€œOh good, itā€™s you. I thought we had an intruder.ā€
Raising a skeptical brow at him and the thin duvet, you quickly take it from him, pressing it down to ease the bleeding. ā€œHoly crap, are you okay?ā€ In one motion, he steps closer to you, analyzing the injury with worried eyes. You groan.
ā€œItā€™s only a little cut. No biggie.ā€ But the way your face is slowly losing color lets him know that your words aren't true. Brown eyes flicker, searching for a spot to sit, but everything about this is crowded. You were just about to start tidying; the mess was still there. Crouching onto a tiny stool, he takes a seat, somehow still towering over you. Or at least that's what it felt like, because suddenly, you felt suffocated.Ā 
His long legs are spread as you stand between them, hand out towards him as he winces at the brutal cut. ā€œAhā€”thatā€™s pretty deep.ā€ He gags when he notices the underneath flesh. You suppress a giggle. ā€œWe should go to the ER.ā€Ā 
You scoff, ripping away from his grip, tripping over a box. Regaining your balance, you drape the cloth over your hand once again. ā€œThat wonā€™t be necessary. Iā€™ll be right back.ā€
After rinsing your hand with alcohol, covering the wound with the largest bandaid to ever exist, and balling your eyes out, you make your way back up. The Australian is drenched in sweat, huffing and puffing. ā€œGot it,ā€ he pants. Confused, you tilt your head to the side, but thatā€™s when you pick out the nail in the palm of his hand. You blink, too bewildered to make sense of how he retrieved it without the help of a hammer. ā€œI also found lots of old trophies. Extremely bittersweet.ā€
ā€œWhyā€™s that?ā€ you hum, kneeling down next to him, reading through the labels. Each makes you more and more dazzled.Ā 
A minute passes by. ā€œBecause I grew up.ā€
ā€œThatā€™sā€¦sad.ā€ Shrugging, he digs for more. He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. ā€œDear Gā€”I forgot this even existed!ā€
Oscarā€™s 81 Things To-Do During the Summer [List]
Learn how to bike.
Learn the Australian National Anthem (Sophie will be beautifully impressed)
Get better at being more outgoing (Mum is worried)
So on and so forth. ā€œYou were an extremely creative lad. Eighty-one things to doā€¦eh.ā€ A tongue click. ā€œPossibly buy a pet dragon?ā€
He cringes. ā€œNot all were realistic. I actually never really got around to it. Mainly added, if anything.ā€Ā 
Crimson red flashes. ā€œI, um, I could tell.ā€
69. Oscar Piastri, you know what I mean.
The brunette chokes on his saliva, yanking it away as fast as he can. Standing up to his full height, he rolls up the piece of paper and points towards the exit. ā€œI think I should, umā€¦yeah. See ya.ā€
ā€œYeah.ā€ He dashes off. ā€œSee youā€¦ā€
-
Eighteen-year old Oscar was a horny bastard. But every guy that age is, so itā€™s not really fair to feel bad about his list. The writing is obviously his, but the things jotted down made him almost feel like it wasnā€™t. Blowjobs? Hand jobs? What was he thinking?
And then, there was youā€”a curious cat. He had to be a virgin; he just had to. Why else would he be embarrassed? You werenā€™t one to judge, though. You knew nothing about the sexual world, having never partaken. The thin band wrapped around your ring finger is enough proof.Ā 
And noā€”you werenā€™t married.
It would have been absolutely diabolical to mention sex in your household growing up. Being Roman Catholics is no joke, believing religiously to wait until marriage. You never had a problem with that; you would wait. Doesnā€™t mean you didnā€™t know what any of the common terms meant. Sort of.Ā 
Only nowā€”for the first time in your lifeā€”there it was.
Temptation.
The McLaren driver was no newbie. He has had his fair share of experiences; before Lily, with Lily. He knew just about anything and everything. His good-boy act was no facade. At times he didnā€™t like that about himself, but itā€™s who he was. Obeyed the rules. Never crossed the line with anyone he wasnā€™t romantically linked to. And yetā€¦
There you were.
The flowers were perfect; only needing to be watered. The cherry tree was much moreā€¦complicated. The chances of animals recklessly hunting for the sweet fruit was high, the chances of the red drupes rotting also was. Therefore, you spent most of your time there.Ā 
Maybe you were avoiding him; you told yourself you were already horrified at the dirty thoughts taking over like the plague. And perhaps he was doing the same; he had only been locked in his room for the past three hours.Ā 
Golden hour. With your hands on your hips, you squint, admire the polished drupes, tickling with water. Walking back to the bench, you lay down, picking up on your reading, occasionally taking sips from your Cherry Cola.Ā 
Pacing the small bedroom, Oscar mutters to himself. Maybe she didnā€™t read all of it. Maybe she doesn't know what it means. Yeahā€”he was exaggerating. Clicking his window open, he gasped for needed air. As soon as he spots you reading, he grunts.Ā 
White skirt brushes down your smooth legs, challenging the sun to see who shines the brightest. Lips wrap around the glass bottle, puckering in the slightest. And he wonders; would you taste as sweet as the cool beverage?
Heā€™s a grown man; an adult. Thereā€™s no need to be uncomfortable. Sex was a part of everyone's day to day life. He was the one making it a bigger deal than it actually was. Still, he slips on a pair of sunglasses, perched perfectly onto the bridge of his nose.Ā 
ā€œIs it any good?ā€
His voice makes you flinch, dropping the book flat on your face. A tiny groan rings through the air. Flashing him a weak smile, you sit up straight, fixing your clothes. ā€œWant one? Thereā€™s plenty in the fridge.ā€
He had noticed, of course he had. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his refrigerator stocked up with the sweet drink. He never cared enough to ask who they belonged to; figured they would just expire.
Wavy hair swings back and forth when he shakes his head. ā€œGotta keep in shape.ā€ I see, you murmur, loopy eyes peeking over at him, taking another gulp. The sizzling feeling is utterly childish compared to what heā€™s making you feel. The burning sensation between your legs is annoying and painful, you almost want to plead for help. ā€œI meant the book, by the way.ā€
ā€œNo!ā€ You laugh, nervously. ā€œI meanā€¦itā€™s alright?ā€
After he stormed off and left you a breathless puddle, you biked and bikedā€”until you hit the local bookstore. You werenā€™t looking for anything in particular, simply browsing, but as soon as you reached the section of Erotic Literature, you stopped.Ā 
So manyā€”manyā€”wrong choices. Still, humiliated, you paid and fiercely ran out. Maybe this was some sort of punishment for reading what youā€™re reading; had to be. And Oscar asking questions wasnā€™t helping. Licking your berry lips, you swallow a thick layer. ā€œWhat have you been up to?ā€
Fuck, he moans, large hand sliding up and down his cock; more and more pleasure intensifying. Your tiny dresses. Your short skirts. Your angelic face. The way your lips would separate before every sentence. Your sweet scent that would have normally given him a headache, but instead made him chase after you like a dog.Ā 
Finishing all over his thighs, he shudders. White liquid never looked more sinister than at this very moment. After changing, he paces the room with regret.Ā 
Pushing the frames further into his face, he hums. ā€œOh, you know. Justā€¦ cleaning up my room.ā€
-
Itā€™s been a week in a half now and youā€™re happy to announce that you have fallen into a routine. While Oscar did his daily workout, you would make breakfast. While you worked on the garden, he cooked dinner. Though, he was unbeknownst over the way you would drool over him when he would walk out the door; a compressed shirt hugging his built body tightly, arms begging to be kissed. You were unaware of the way he would rub his face in desperation when you walked out, banging his head purposefully against the cabinet; the way you would skip out with your book and infamous drink, or how you would prettily tie up your hair before you even got started.
It was a mess.
A mocking mess.
This afternoon though, you arenā€™t flying out the door to the yard, but rather frolicking over to Ms. Alleck, ready to assist. I try my best, but they always wilt! Could it be the humidity? Laughing, you toss your hair up into a bun, messy strands poking out as you cock your head to the side. ā€œCould be, but donā€™t you worry. Weā€™ll find a way to make it work. Promise.ā€
He had always known you were kind, gentle, soft spokenā€¦pure. And you doing this only added to his attraction. Itā€™s salad, spaghetti, and salmon that afternoon. Sweaty, you pant. Iā€™m going to squeeze in a shower real quick. But you werenā€™t sweaty, like you believe; you were glistening.Ā 
ā€œThis is so cute,ā€ you chirp, sitting cross cross in the old treehouse. A few spider webs make your blood run cold, but he quickly took care of it, apologizing. The brunette blushes.Ā 
ā€œI wanted to use it one last time. Before we get rid of it.ā€ Neat brows furrow. ā€œItā€™s just that itā€™s oldā€”only a matter of time before it plunges down.ā€ ā€œWhat?ā€Ā 
ā€œO-obviously not now!ā€
After a bit more convincing, you finally relax and enjoy the way the crickets sing against the night. Small feet press against the wall, white tube socks turning slightly brown from the lack of sweeping. For a moment, he shuts his lids, breaths shallow, body loose. The high temperature almost made him feel as if he was cuddling into the warmest blanket; it felt nice.Ā 
Whoops, you mumble when hollow glass pounds against the wooden floor. He perks up at the sound, brown eyes burning with high alert. ā€œYou do shit on purpose?ā€ he screeches when he detects scarlet blood. Wincing in pain, you curl your hand towards the hem of your dress.Ā 
ā€œHelp me,ā€ you plead, slight annoyance written all over your face. He mustā€™ve broken the world record of running into the house to retreat the first aid kit, and running right back to you. The way he sanitizes the skin, to the way he wraps your hand with a gauze pad, is honestly hilarious.
ā€œWhat so funny?ā€ he murmurs, attention never leaving the wound.Ā 
ā€œMmm. Nothing.ā€ He snickers and you giggle harder. ā€œIt just seems as if Iā€™m making you a professional. You ought to be ready if anyone else needs your help to treat injuries.ā€
ā€œOh, of course. Iā€™ll tell them a certain klutz made me learn from day to night with all her clumsiness.ā€ His voice drops, laced with concern. ā€œSeriously thoughā€”you were just healing. You have to be careful.ā€
Plump lips part with the sound of his delicate voice, accent almost disappearing. Wandering eyes admire the way his brows are knitted together and orbs soften. Swallowing, you nod. ā€œI will.ā€
ā€œGood.ā€
The once vibrant room is now hazy and suffocating. Does he not know what kind of effect he has on you? The type of power he holds? Oscar doesnā€™t seem to, though, with the way he chugs down his entire glass of water. Stuck in a trance, your hand briskly reaches out for your own drink. He roars with laughter, clutching his stomach. ā€œYou just broke your bottle, you donā€™t have a drink anymore.ā€ He picked up the Cherry Cola you had offered, but he had declined. ā€œTake mine.ā€
You donā€™t put up a fight, simply allow him to open and give it to you. The sweet drink doesnā€™t do a great job at hydrating your foaming mouth, but it helps as a distraction. On the other hand, the brunette canā€™t seem to not watch the ways your lips suck in and out, eagerly. As if this were the only source of air. He shudders.Ā 
ā€œWe should probably head downā€¦ā€
Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you comply, already standing up. From the floor, he has a good view of your legs; long, soft, sweetly scented. He wonders if you use honey as lotion because that would explain his urge to nuzzle his face against them. Picking up the broken glass and plates, you turn back. ā€œComing?ā€
A sigh rings through the air once, and suddenlyā€”heā€™s cradling your face with high intensity and lust, molding his lips against yours. Tomato sauce stains his shirt and your dress from the plates that still remain between you two. One second, you're wide eyed, and then the next, you're allowing yourself to kiss him back.Ā 
You want to cry with how pleasant the feeling feels and he wants to scream with how much he wants to fuck you. But alas, one of you pulls away firstā€”you canā€™t really tell whoā€” and youā€™re both left gasping for air. Completely winded and fucked.
You both are fucked.
-
The treehouse comes crashing down the day after your first kiss. Yes, first kiss. You would like to blame him and say that he stole it from you, but the arousal that was dripping between your thighs last night was a clear indication that you could never actually say so because you liked it so much.Ā 
The wooden house tearing down is something you take as a sign; youā€™ve sinned. Okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic, but you were honestly thinking about it. That night you dreamt of the wildest things imaginable; his pretty face in between your legs, large hands squeezing your perky breasts, fingers swirling inside your velvety walls, cock tearing you in half.
It was unacceptable.Ā 
So, while Oscar worked on picking up the tiles with a hometown buddy, you marched right over to beg for forgiveness. Kneeling down against the cushion, you say a silent prayer.Ā 
I donā€™t want to think like thisā€”not when I know I can help it, but God this is getting way too out of hand. And you know Iā€™m not like this, you know that! But he justā€”AGH. Maybe itā€™s his personality that makes him so attractive, or maybe itā€™s his sudden growth spurt, but please let me get a hold of myself. Heā€™s just a friend, heā€™s just a friendā€”HEā€™S JUST A FRIEND.Ā 
ā€œWould you mind keeping your words to yourself, sweetheart?ā€ an older lady whispers, two rows ahead of you.Ā 
Pink feathers onto your cheeks. ā€œOh, yes, of course! Iā€™m so sorryā€¦ā€
I donā€™t ever ask for much, no, thatā€™s never been necessary, but I am now. So please. Hear me when I say: Push this desire I have, far, far, far away.
-
If you were to say, there was a ninety percent chance that you would walk away. Not even spare him a passing glance. He would call you out on it later, but whateverā€”too late. Ignored you, you say? No, really I did? I had no idea, Iā€™ll make sure to not let it happen again!
If Oscar were to say, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would let you walk away. He didnā€™t need your company; he was doing just fine. But then again, that one percent tugs at him like the devil on his shoulder.
ā€œHey. Youā€™re back.ā€ Cool. Calm. Collected.
ā€œOh! I suppose I am.ā€ Cool. Utter. Mess.
He grins, eyes crinkling like the leaves that hang upon the crimson tree. Signaling up, he cocks his head in deep thought. ā€œJust finished. Cole said his uncle could shredā€¦ā€ A pause. ā€œHe owns a massive wood chipper.ā€Ā 
Blinking like a deer in headlights, you chew on your bottom lip, simply nodding along. ā€œSounds good? I think. No. Yes. Very good.ā€ You wince at all the uncontrolled mumbo-jumbo. ā€œIā€™m sorry I was no help, too. I had toā€¦talk to the man up above.ā€
ā€œEh, donā€™t worry about it. That must be why your pretty little knees are bruised.ā€Ā 
Your breath comes to a harsh halt, ears burning like a wildfire. The Australian just keeps his brown eyes set on the tree for a second longer before turning to face you. Quickly, you relax your muscles. ā€œYou could make up for it by helping me with something else.ā€
You gulp. Suddenly, your mouth is overflowing with hot saliva. ā€œWith what?ā€
Dark orbs glue onto your delicate figure, a slight smirk playing out. And it looks so unfamiliar, not his own, that you create a distance. And just like that, itā€™s gone. Vanished just as fast as it slipped onto his pink lips. ā€œGet on.ā€ He crouches down and your jaw drops.
ā€œWhaā€”like onto your shoulders?ā€ Rolling his eyes in a goofy manner, he nods, picks you up safely, and places you on top. You screech, dizzy by the sudden altitude. ā€œPut me down!ā€
ā€œYouā€™re fine. Just help me reach those. Been craving them all day,ā€ he murmurs, voice raspy. The twenty-three year old is still slightly sweaty from his hard labor, and thatā€™s clear when you cling onto his brown locks. Other than that, youā€™re as high as a kite; both figuratively and literally.Ā 
Youā€™ve knownā€”seenā€”how tall and broad the Australian was, but being perched onto his wide shoulders was a sweet confirmation you couldnā€™t help but enjoy. ā€œMove a bit forward.ā€ He follows instructions, wide hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you steady. You giggle when a few fruits hit your face. ā€œWatch itā€”and donā€™t you dare drop me.ā€
ā€œGet,ā€ he commands.
About three minutes pass by. You rip the cherries carefully, candy aroma filling the air, and plop them onto the basket. By all accounts, youā€™re well aware of your actions. The basket was full, now overflowing, really, and you could plant your ballet flats back onto the tall grassā€”but you donā€™t.
Thereā€™s something about feeling his touch; high electricity, shock waves nipping at your skin, soft pants. Itā€™s pathetic how much you crave any ounce of physical touch heā€™s willing to give you, unknowingly.
ā€œThat should be good,ā€ you whisper, meekly. He doesnā€™t respond, just swings you down as you let out a yelp. All of a sudden, youā€™re magically magnetic. And he wonders; if only. You hand the basket over, waiting nervously for him to thank you, at least.Ā 
ā€œThank you,ā€ he feels himself saying. ā€œWhat do you say we play a little game? No prize. Only bragging rights.ā€
ā€œO-okay.ā€
A singular cherry is handed over. He grins. Can you tie a knot using your tongue? ā€œWaitā€”are you being serious?ā€
The red fruit dissolves inside his mouth, spitting the seed somewhere far enough away. Then, the stem flips into his mouth. ā€œCome on. Iā€™ll give you a head start.ā€
With wary hands, you rip the stem away from your own drupe, fitting the thin stick into your suddenly dry mouth. He stares intently, clenching his jaw, ā€œGo on. Ten seconds.ā€ Quickly, your lips start to move, twisting and turning. Pouting, then sucking back in. Your low breaths become heavy after a few tries. You think youā€™re getting it done right, the sudden ball forming is enough for you to guess that you must be doing something correct.Ā 
The sound of his low mewls is what ends you. Doe eyes flicker up to face him, paying close attention to how his brown eyes wander up at the sky in concentration, occasionally squinting due to the bright sun. You can feel a thin layer of sweat hug you like a blanket as your movements slow down; a snail's pace compared to before.
For good measure, you fake your twists as you continue to simply admire. Too far gone, you blink hastily when he sticks his pink tongue out towards you, a stinking knot sitting nicely atop.
ā€œI won.ā€
Gulp. ā€œYou sure did. Good job, Oscar.ā€
Long lashes flutter shut momentarily, head tossed back, sighing. ā€œIt wasnā€™t a fair fight. You werenā€™t doing anything. Other than staring at my lips.ā€
Flustered, you dig your hand into the bucket. ā€œThatā€™s not true! At all. At all, at all.ā€ You munch harder, splitting a seed in half. You spit it out sourly. ā€œYou're just better at using your mouth than I am.ā€
It goes straight to his cock, your words. Opening his eyes, the brunette scrunches his nose. Youā€™re avoiding his gaze. Youā€™re good at doing that. A pro. But it leaves him to wonder some more. And that itself was dangerous when it dawned on him.Ā 
He doesnā€™t like daydreaming anymore.
ā€œFuck it,ā€ he grunts, kissing you harshly, like the night before. And you thought that blew your mind, but this? This left you gasping and reaching out for him even though he was pressed right against you. You could feel him buzzing, pinching your hips against his large hands. Itā€™s perfect.
You donā€™t really understand how you end up straddling him on the grass, green straining your knees as you grind harder onto him, forcing your skin to burn with each stroke. Thisā€”thisā€”must be as good as it gets. There canā€™t be more, but you werenā€™t complaining. It was enough.Ā 
When his fingers dance underneath your dress, you halt, and everything comes crashing down. ā€œNo,ā€ you pant. ā€œI canā€™t. Iā€™m sorry. I really am.ā€
ā€œWhy is that, baby?ā€ he mumbles, lost on sucking the side of your neck. Looking up, his straight brows drew in together with concern. ā€œWhat is it?ā€
ā€œItā€™s just thatā€¦Iā€™mā€”ā€ Why is it so hard to admit? Brushing a strand of hair away, you purse your lips. ā€œIā€™m a virgin, Oscar. Itā€™s odd, I know, but I canā€™t sleep with you.ā€
ā€œYou think I didnā€™t know that?ā€™
You freeze. ā€œWhat?ā€
His thumbs circle your thighs, gently, swooning with how soft you feel. ā€œI figured you were. Your purity ring sort of gave it away.ā€ You blush hard, rolling off of him, playing with the thin band.Ā 
ā€œI wish I could do thisā€”God, I really want toā€”but I canā€™t.ā€
Respecting your decision, he pats your hand with reassurance. The hot feeling remained between your legs and the pain between his. This was torture, you both know that, but what was there to do? Itā€™s awkward for a while, that is, until he starts asking you about things that shouldnā€™t make you glow with happiness.
How was your day? I want to hear all about it. Do you think itā€™s bad to eat an entire bucket of drupes? Must be, right? In the long run? Hey, would you mind teaching me how to garden? You make it look intriguing.Ā 
That seems to do it for you. Everything you ever promised flies out the window as you climb back onto his thick lap, and this time, heā€™s surprised by your actions. Clumsy fingers try their best to unzip his pants, but he only stutters against your kisses. N-no, we donā€™t have to rush anything. I, you, weā€”
ā€œShit, o-okay,ā€ he sighs when you finally touch him, even in the slightest. He may be touch deprived, but so were you, so how far would any of this go? Flipping you over to lay against the tall grass, he winks teasingly and that effectively makes your heartbeat quicken. ā€œRelax, sweetheart. Do that for me, yeah? Can you?ā€
ā€œYes. Yes. Yes.ā€Ā 
The McLaren drivers press a kiss on the inside of your thighs before licking them. You shiver, though try your best to even your breaths. You shut your eyes, maybe if you act hard enough, you could somehow convince yourself that this wasnā€™t a war itself. To see how long youā€™d last. Noā€”you would last. You had to.
ā€œIā€™ve thought about it.ā€ He slips your panties down, inch by inch. ā€œA lot, as of lately. If you would taste just as sweet as I imagined. As sweet as those Cherry Colaā€™s you're overly obsessed with.ā€ And he dives in, licking your arousal clean as you pant, chest heaving up and down like an erupting volcano.Ā 
What were you supposed to feelā€”relaxed? In a frenzy? Most likely the latter because considering the way he was making your head spin said it all. The sounds heā€™s making forces you to involuntarily shut your legs around his face and his hand that now lies between you two. The stretch is a burning sensation that leaves you both gasping and moaning; itā€™s too much, but not enough.
More. Grinning up from in between your legs, he shakes his head full of curls, all thanks to the Aussie weather, and your dirty foreplay. ā€œDoes it feel good?ā€ You whimper. ā€œGoodā€”good, baby. Thatā€™s all Iā€™ve ever wanted.ā€ Velvet walls clench around his long digits. ā€œHey, hey, look at me.ā€
Once your soft orbs connect to his intoxicating ones, his cock grows harder. ā€œOkay, listen, itā€™s going to hurt a little bit, okay? But thatā€™s completely normal; itā€™s like aā€¦a stingy feeling. Do you understand?ā€ I do, you pant. He grits his teeth when his calloused fingers brush against your g-spot and your head lolls back, exposing your sharp clavicle. He itches to mark you all over. ā€œDo you want it, then?ā€
A zing. ā€œFuck, Oscar. I fucking want you.ā€
The brown eyed boy is all over you, kissing you up and down, gripping you tighter. It was an addiction in its truest form. For a split second, you frown when he slips out of you, but as soon as he starts unzipping his pants, you feverishly lick your lips.Ā 
It dawns on you that you arenā€™t scared, nervous, or anything; youā€™re bubbling with excitement. You watch carefully as he jerks himself off a bit, his already large girth growing bigger. How is that possible? ā€œIā€™ll start with the tip.ā€ Leaning down, he pecks your pouty lips and you smile. ā€œLet me know if itā€™s too much, weā€™ll stop and take a break. Or do anything, really,ā€ he adds, cheekbones flushing red.Ā 
ā€œIā€™ll be okay,ā€ you whisper. ā€œI swear.ā€
You were being skinned alive, it was excruciating pain. You know he notices it when he starts brushing your hips, hoping to comfort you in some sort of way. Heavy breaths, numb lips from biting too hard, exposed breasts arching straight for him. He didnā€™t know whether to enjoy this or worry.Ā 
ā€œBreathe, darling, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go,ā€ he congratulates, admiring your shaky breath. ā€œYouā€™re doing so good.ā€
ā€œOsc, moveā€¦please.ā€
There was no more confirmation necessary that you were ready to go. His hips find motion, thrusting into you slowly. Nails scratch down his back as you moan loudly, almost yelping. ā€œY-youā€™re so big.ā€ So, so, so, so big. Ā ā€œSo good.ā€
Nearly animalistic, he releases a grunt, pounding deeper into you, getting lost with the way you hug him tightly. You mewl, pressing your naked chest against his, and he nearly slips from his hands being set on top of the cold grass, but it was beautiful torture, all at once.Ā 
From the way you tremble, to the way you look up at him, he loves it all. He realized it been too long, heā€™s missed this, heā€™s missed having a body undeaneath his, as fucked up as that sounds.Ā 
And heā€”he must be a saint, himself. Thereā€™s a sort of invisible halo that lightens up around him, nearly blinding you. Thereā€™s a gut-wrenching stare heā€™s gifting you, making your stomach churn with pleasure.Ā 
Wrapping his mouth around your sore buds, you let out a shaky sigh. Skillful tongue swirls the way one would suck on a lollipop; the heat intensifies. ā€œClose?ā€ But youā€™re not sure, you just know it feels goodā€”ridiculously good. He must have known so, and must want to make your first experience the best youā€™ll ever have, because suddenly, youā€™re on all fours.Ā 
As he slips in and out with such ease, you grip harshly at the tall grass. You can hear the sad rips with every thrust and every tug, but how can you feel bad when he feels so good? His cock rapidly brushes the magic spot, and youā€™re left seeing stars. ā€œOh God. I feel it, Oscar, fuck, fuck, fuckā€”ā€
ā€œTell me. Describe it.ā€
Your jaw locks, and your arms give up, flying down towards the grass, round ass high up in the air as he continues his movements. He groans at the sight, slapping your sweaty skin. Whining, you look back at him, grinning from ear to ear. The Australian looks up at the open sky, trying his best to push back the feeling of his upcoming orgasm, but it's hard to ignore the fact that an absolute angel takes him like no other.
And an Angel you were.
ā€œCan feel your cock, Oscar. The way it pulsesā€”so thick, so veiny, so sweet.ā€
An Angel with a vocabulary of Heathen.
ā€œGod, fuck me harder, please, Oscar, please.ā€ Heā€™s pretty sure youā€™re half-gone, half-present, but it only adds to the lust he carries for you. Just then, you feel the fresh cherry pressed up against your lips. Open, he demands and you follow straight away, ripping it from its stem. You nearly choke on the seed when he suddenly speeds up, limbs and arms burning from holding upright. For a moment, you stare back with an open mouth, admiring over the way his abs contract with every brutal push.
ā€œNow spit.ā€ Two seeds fly out towards the grass, laying there to taunt you as you pick up on your moans, ringing through the air. If you squint hard enough, you can spot the stars that mock the daylight sky. It doesnā€™t make sense, but then again, none of this does. ā€œSo pretty, sweetheart.ā€ You swoon, feeling his arms hold you down. ā€œAgainā€”open.ā€
Youā€™re expecting another set of cherries, thinking this might be some sort of prize, but as soon as you feel the familiar stick, you pout. No, you cry out. He chuckles. ā€œYes.ā€ A pause. ā€œYou only get to come until you tie a knot.ā€
ā€œYouā€™re not being f-fair, holy shit.ā€ Long fingers rub slowly against your puffy clit, throbbing with pain, begging to come all of his numbing girth. You clench your jaw, eyes screwed shut.
ā€œWe donā€™t have all night, go on. Move that pretty little mouth of yours.ā€
Itā€™s a mission, itā€™s a task, itā€™s a fucking wreck. Itā€™s impossible. Youā€™re not that surprised, though, not when he thrusts into with twice as much force, triple speed; what a man. Loose tongue swirls at a weak attempt, but then he pinches your swollen bud, and youā€™re back to square one. Youā€™re nearly there, excited to prove to him how much you wanted this and how you were able to multitask, but then heā€™s pulling all the way back, only his rosy tip awaiting by your entrance, and heā€™s coming back down, full-throttle.Ā 
It was cruel.
But two can play that game, you suppose.
You pull away quickly, he blinks, and then youā€™re pushing him back, sprawled on the grass. He nearly whines from missing your warm cunt, but as soon as you climb to sit on his face, he grows more and more turned on. ā€œGo on,ā€ you push. ā€œUse that pretty little tongue of yours.ā€
Dark eyes stare up at you, enjoying the way your body moves, hips rolling, riding his face at an impressive rate. The white nectar you're willing to spill out makes him lap at an embarrassing speed, desperate to taste the sweetness.Ā 
Meanwhile, youā€™re gripping his hair, trying to feign indifference with the way his nose rubs against your lips, the way he keeps you in place with his watch covered hand, the other playing with your clit. Itā€™s even, this is fair, but you still needed to reach your end.Ā 
ā€œIā€™m close,ā€ you moan, head rolling back, but jaw continuing to tick. He hums and the vibrations cause you to squeeze your legs around his face. That seems to make him enjoy this far more. Unless you show me youā€™ve done it, then no, youā€™re not coming anytime soon. Your molars grind harder, white spots forming throughout your vision. ā€œShut up, justā€”fucking stop talking.ā€
ā€œWhat do yā€™know? Miss Perfection has a potty mouth.ā€ He pokes his tongue against your hole. ā€œDirty girl, eh?ā€
With one final suck, and one soft moan, you cum all over him. The Australian is quick to lick you clean, groaning pathetically deep. Gasping, you fall from your climax, slightly twitching with sensibility as he hauls you onto his lap. You giggle when he raises a teasing brow.Ā 
ā€œYou got away with itā€”this time.ā€
ā€œThereā€™s going to be a second time?ā€
He stiffens, trying to play it cool. ā€œWell, not anymore, you didnā€™t do what I asked for you to doā€”ā€
Opening your mouth, you stick your red tongue out, displaying the most perfect knot. He gapes, sticking his fingers in to retrieve it. ā€œH-how?ā€ A beat, sharp and accusing eyes. ā€œSeriously, how?ā€
ā€œDoes it matter?ā€ you ask, wide eyes back on for show. ā€œI did it.ā€
ā€œIā€¦yeah, yeah you did,ā€ he repeats in disbelief. He laughs. ā€œYouā€™re wickedly talented. That's an art.ā€
ā€œThanks,ā€ you mumble, slowly, mixed with a giggle. ā€œI tried my best for you.ā€
ā€œI see that.ā€ The brown eyed boy pinches your hip. ā€œHow was it?ā€
Sighing dreamily, as if napping on a cloud, your eyes twinkle. ā€œI get it now. Why people have casual sex, I mean. It was amazing. Thank you.ā€
Casual, casual, casual, yes. Of course this was casual, why wouldnā€™t it be casual? Heā€™s not looking to have anyone new in his life, and youā€™re barely understanding what any of this is, so yeah. Casual.Ā 
ā€œWas I bad?ā€ you ponder, chewing on your bottom lip. ā€œI know Iā€™m no professional, but Iā€”ā€
ā€œYou were perfect,ā€ he reassures with a soft smile. ā€œBest thing to come around, solemnly swear.ā€ Swatting his arm, he snickers, catching your hand. You purse your lips. ā€œI was right,ā€ he murmurs when his lips graze over your own. You open your mouth, waiting for more.
ā€œAbout?ā€
ā€œYou tasting as sweet as a Cherry Cola.ā€ Then he connects your lips, and youā€™re left utterly smitten. You can hardly feel him slip your ring off, but you know so when your finger feels empty since the moment you first put it on. ā€œGuess you wonā€™t be needing this anymore?ā€
ā€œGuess not, no. Keep it.ā€
ā€œCould take it to a Pawn Shop, sell it for a couple dollarsā€¦ā€
ā€œHey! Be nice, you dimwit,ā€ you warn. ā€œYou should feel special. Stupidly special.ā€
ā€œIā€™m kidding. Iā€™ll cherish it.ā€
ā€œCreep.ā€
He groans, slapping your ass as you squeal. ā€œThereā€™s no right or wrong answer, it seems like. Very well, let's just leave it at thanks. Soā€¦thank you for trusting me.ā€ You blush, looking away. Awkwardly, you reach for your dress, slipping it over your head. He coughs, dressing himself before choking back a much needed chuckle. ā€œLooks like we got dragged through the mud.ā€
ā€œAh, ew, I canā€™t. I need to shower.ā€Ā 
Reaching your end of the hallway, you press your back up against the wooden door as you sheepishly giggle when Oscar does the same. ā€œOkay thenā€¦see you around?ā€Ā 
ā€œAround town?ā€
ā€œAround the house.ā€
ā€œIn the garden?ā€
ā€œIn the attic, too, maybe. It still needs a good sweep.ā€
He rolls his eyes. ā€œDo we still have time?ā€
ā€œBefore your parents get back from Costa Rica?ā€
ā€œYes.ā€
ā€œWhich is inā€”ā€
ā€œA week.ā€
ā€œWhich isā€”ā€
ā€œSeven days.ā€
ā€œAnd roughlyā€¦ā€
ā€œEnough time.ā€
ā€œEnough time to do what?ā€
He laughs, eyes crinkling suggestively, and your heart pounds hard against your ribcage. ā€œCome here and Iā€™ll show you.ā€
ā€œYeah,ā€ you ponder in deep thought before your lips stretch out into a bright smile of your own. He raises dark brows as you scurry over with bruised knees, a muddy dress, and an exploding heart. ā€œYeah, okay. Just until they get back.ā€
taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious
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theonottsbxtch Ā· 2 months ago
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THE OTHER GUY PT.1 | FC43
an: @isaadore this one is for you. i've realised i haven't written anything for the latest pookie of the grid, so lets kick it off with some enemies to lovers
fc: random brunettes on pintrest
requests: open
ynpiastri
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri and 67,938 others
my dearest lo, the boy who turned oscar and i into apart of a triplet and not twins, the racing world has been cruel to you. i will forever stand by your side no matter what. i love you forever and cannot wait to see what greatness you achieve. love, your unofficial little sister by four months, six days and ten minutes
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logansargeant: i love you ducky šŸ¦†šŸ’›
ynpiastri: love you more sarge :)
userone: the cutest unofficial little sister he could ever ask for
usertwo: when the world doesn't have logan's back, we can trust that the piastri siblings have his back
userthree: god i love his relationship with them
oscarpiastri: well said ducky
ynpiastri: hire me as your pr
oscarpiastri: over my dead body
nicolepiastri: oscar be nice to your little sister
userfour: they still call her ducky
userfive: am i missing something here, why do they keep calling her ducky soz im new to this
usersix: she used to hide rubber ducks whenever she could for oscar and logan to find in f2 & f3
userfive: stop that so cute
williamsracing
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liked by mclaren, alex_albon, francolapinto and 985,248 others
we are delighted to announce that franco colapinto is going to join us, racing for williams as of monza. welcome to formula one, franco!
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userone: šŸ‡¦šŸ‡·šŸ‡¦šŸ‡·šŸ‡¦šŸ‡·
usertwo: poor logan ā˜¹ļø
francolapinto: thank you!
userthree: where was logan's goodbye?
userfour: finally some real talent
userfive: williams try not sign an underprepared rookie challenge: failedĀ 
usersix: jv keep an eye open at nightĀ 
ynpiastri: womp womp
francolapinto: Āæque hice? (what did i do)Ā 
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ynpiastri
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 45,234 others
monza šŸ¤˜šŸ¤˜
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userone: i want to be her šŸ˜©
usertwo: i want to date her šŸ¤­
nicolepiastri: very tame post
ynpiastri: they can't tame me šŸ‘¹
userthree: ten minute penalty for ocon
oscarpiastri: who's dog is that
ynpiastri: i stole it šŸ˜¼
instagram story
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interview with franco colapinto
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the end.
lmk what you guys think of this! luv luv luv <3
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its-avalon-08 Ā· 3 months ago
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what are we running from? (op81)
(monza has my heart, but what is mclaren doing? papaya rules and all that shit for more tension? our boys deserve better! enjoy this one because i shed a few tears writing it <3 )
āœ¦ pairing - oscar piastri x female!reader
āœ¦ genre - friends to lovers, neglect, a LOT angst, alot of tears, super long im sorry
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Oscar Piastri and Y/N had always been inseparable, their bond forged in the fires of shared experiences and unwavering support. From the outside, their relationship seemed almost too good to be trueā€”two best friends who had known each other for years, with a connection so deep that it felt like they were more than just friends, even if neither of them had ever dared to say it out loud.
It had started back in their school days, when they first met in a classroom filled with the nervous energy of new beginnings. Oscar, with his quiet determination and sharp wit, had caught Y/Nā€™s attention almost immediately. She, on the other hand, had this vibrant, magnetic personality that drew people in, and before long, they had become fast friends.
As time went on, their friendship only grew stronger. They spent countless hours together, whether it was studying for exams, watching movies, or just hanging out at each otherā€™s houses. They knew each otherā€™s quirks, habits, and fears better than anyone else. Oscar could tell when Y/N was upset just by the way she fidgeted with her hair, and Y/N knew exactly when Oscar needed a distraction by the way his smile didnā€™t quite reach his eyes.
They were a team, an unbreakable pair that everyone else could only admire. Friends would often joke about how they were like an old married coupleā€”finishing each otherā€™s sentences, knowing each otherā€™s favorite foods, and sharing a kind of unspoken communication that others found both endearing and perplexing.
But it wasnā€™t just their closeness that made their relationship special; it was the way they supported each other through everything. When Oscar started his journey in racing, Y/N was there every step of the way, cheering him on from the sidelines, offering words of encouragement when things got tough, and celebrating with him after every victory. She was his rock, his constant, and in a world that was often unpredictable, Y/N was the one thing Oscar could always count on.
And Oscar was just as devoted to Y/N. He was the one she called in the middle of the night when she couldnā€™t sleep, the one who listened patiently to her dreams and fears, the one who knew exactly how to make her laugh when she was feeling down. He was the calm to her storm, the steady presence that grounded her when everything else felt chaotic.
Their physical closeness was another thing that set them apart. Oscar and Y/N were never shy about showing affectionā€”whether it was cuddling on the couch during movie nights, holding hands when they were out together, or the way Y/N would rest her head on Oscarā€™s shoulder when she was tired. It was the kind of closeness that blurred the lines between friendship and something more, but they had always kept it in the realm of friendship, never daring to cross that invisible boundary.
Yet, underneath it all, there was something unspoken between them, something that both of them felt but neither of them acknowledged. It was in the way Oscarā€™s heart would skip a beat whenever Y/N smiled at him, or the way Y/Nā€™s breath would catch whenever Oscar hugged her just a little too tightly. It was the feeling that there was something more between them, something that could change everything if they ever dared to explore it.
But that unspoken connection, as strong as it was, also carried a weightā€”a fear of losing what they had if they ever tried to turn it into something more. And so, they kept it hidden, buried beneath layers of friendship, where it was safe from the risks that came with love.
They were best friendsā€”inseparable, devoted, and utterly reliant on each other. But beneath the surface, there was a tension, a yearning that neither of them wanted to admit. And it was only a matter of time before that tension would come to a head, forcing them to confront the feelings they had both tried so hard to ignore.
<3 <3
Oscar had always known he was in trouble when it came to Y/N. From the moment they met, they had clicked in a way that felt effortless, naturalā€”like they were meant to be in each other's lives. She was his best friend, his confidante, his comfort. But somewhere along the way, Oscar had started feeling something more. He fell for her, hard, and though every fiber of his being screamed to tell her, he never did. He couldnā€™t risk losing her.
But things had changed. Y/N had started seeing someone new, and for the first time, Oscar felt the ground shift beneath him. Their usual routine of late-night calls, movie marathons, and endless cuddles had been replaced by her excited chatter about her new boyfriend, her plans for dates, and the moments that didnā€™t include him.
flashback
The shift in Y/Nā€™s behavior started subtly, but it grew more apparent with each passing day. Oscar noticed it first at the small gatherings they used to enjoy togetherā€”nights spent with their closest friends, where they would usually stick close, laughing at inside jokes and exchanging amused glances from across the room. But now, things were different.
It began with Jake, the guy Y/N had started seeing. At first, Oscar didnā€™t think much of itā€”heā€™d seen Y/N date before, and it had never really affected their friendship. But something about Jake seemed to pull her further away from him in a way that felt like a slow, painful drift.
The first time it really hit him was at a party one of their mutual friends was hosting. Oscar had arrived a bit late, expecting to find Y/N waiting for him with a drink in hand, eager to catch him up on everything heā€™d missed. But instead, he found her on the other side of the room, wrapped up in Jakeā€™s arms, laughing at something heā€™d said.
Oscar tried to brush it off, forcing a smile as he approached. ā€œHey, Y/N,ā€ he greeted her, hoping for the usual warmth in her eyes.
She glanced over at him, but the smile she gave him was distant, almost distracted. ā€œOh, hey, Oscar,ā€ she replied, her tone casual, as if he were just another guest at the party.
It stung, more than he cared to admit. ā€œWhatā€™s going on? Missed anything exciting?ā€ he asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
Y/N shrugged, her attention already shifting back to Jake. ā€œNot really. Just hanging out.ā€
Oscarā€™s heart sank. This wasnā€™t like her. She was usually the first to pull him into the fun, to drag him into ridiculous games or tease him about not dancing enough. But now, it felt like he was intruding, like he didnā€™t belong.
The night went on, and the gap between them only seemed to widen. At one point, Oscar found himself standing near the bar, watching as Y/N and Jake danced together, completely absorbed in each other. It was as if the rest of the room had faded away, including him.
When they finally took a break, Oscar made his way over, hoping to at least steal a few minutes with her. ā€œSo, howā€™s it going with Jake?ā€ he asked, trying to sound supportive despite the knot in his stomach.
Y/N looked at him with a small, polite smile, but there was no spark of excitement in her eyes, none of the usual fire that had always drawn him in. ā€œItā€™s good. Heā€™s great, really.ā€
ā€œYeah, he seems nice,ā€ Oscar said, forcing the words out. ā€œWe should hang out moreā€”like old times.ā€
She hesitated, her eyes flickering to Jake before she answered. ā€œYeah, maybe. Weā€™ll see.ā€
That was it. Just a vague, noncommittal response that left Oscar feeling more isolated than ever.
The next few days were more of the same. Y/N started canceling plans, saying she was too busy or that she had already made plans with Jake. When they did hang out, she was distracted, constantly checking her phone, as if waiting for a message from Jake to pull her away again.
Oscar tried to hide his frustration, but it grew harder with each passing day. He noticed how Y/N seemed to change around Jakeā€”she was more subdued, less like herself. The playful, confident girl he knew was replaced by someone who seemed almostā€¦ unsure. She laughed at jokes that werenā€™t funny, agreed with things she would usually argue against, and even started dressing differently, like she was trying to fit into some version of herself that wasnā€™t real.
The breaking point came when they all went out to another party, this time with a larger group. Oscar watched from a distance as Y/N and Jake mingled with people he didnā€™t recognize, her hand firmly in Jakeā€™s as she introduced herself with an unfamiliar edge in her voice.
It wasnā€™t until someone asked how long she and Oscar had known each other that the real blow came.
ā€œOh, weā€™ve known each other for a while,ā€ she said casually, almost dismissively, as if they werenā€™t best friends who had shared everything.
Oscarā€™s heart clenched painfully. He stood just a few feet away, and it felt like heā€™d been slapped in the face. A while? That was all she had to say about him? The countless nights they had spent talking until sunrise, the secrets they had shared, the times they had been there for each other through thick and thinā€”all reduced to ļæ½ļæ½a while.ā€
For the rest of their time together, Oscar felt like a ghost, present but unseen, and the realization that Y/N barely noticed was what hurt the most. He couldnā€™t keep doing this, couldnā€™t keep pretending that everything was fine when it was far from it. He couldnā€™t stand it any longer. ā€œIā€™m heading out,ā€ he muttered to no one in particular, but Y/N didnā€™t even notice as he slipped out the door.
Later that night, Y/N texted him, asking if he got home okay. There was no apology, no acknowledgment of how she had brushed him aside. Just a casual check-in that felt more like an afterthought.
Oscar stared at the message, feeling a deep sadness settle in his chest. He had always known that Y/N was special to him, that she held a place in his heart no one else could ever fill. But now, he was starting to realize that she didnā€™t see him the same wayā€”not anymore.
Maybe she never did, he thought bitterly, tossing his phone aside and sinking into bed, the weight of her neglect pressing down on him like a lead blanket. Maybe Iā€™ve just been fooling myself this whole time.
end of flashback
And Oscarā€¦ he was hurting.
One evening, Y/N burst into Oscar's apartment with her usual energy. ā€œOsc, you wonā€™t believe it! Weā€™re going on another date tonightā€”heā€™s taking me to this really cute cafĆ© downtown!ā€ Her voice was full of excitement, but Oscar barely heard her.
He was curled up on the couch, a familiar spot that once felt warm with her presence now felt cold and empty.
ā€œThatā€™s great,ā€ he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual enthusiasm.
She frowned, finally noticing the difference. ā€œWhatā€™s wrong? Youā€™ve been weird lately.ā€
Oscar wanted to say it. He wanted to shout that he was tired of being pushed aside, tired of being the second choice. But instead, he just shook his head. ā€œNothing. Iā€™m fine.ā€
Y/N wasnā€™t convinced. She moved closer, sitting beside him. ā€œOscar, talk to me. Please.ā€
Oscar looked at her, really looked at her, and felt his heart shatter a little more. He was losing her, and the worst part was that she didnā€™t even realize it. ā€œI miss you,ā€ he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N blinked, surprised. ā€œIā€™m right here, O.ā€
ā€œNo, youā€™re not,ā€ he replied, his tone sharper now. ā€œYouā€™ve been so wrapped up in your new relationship that Iā€™ve barely seen you. Youā€™re always with him, talking about him. And Iā€¦ Iā€™m just here, waiting for you to remember me.ā€
She frowned, her face softening as she reached out to touch his hand, but he pulled away. ā€œOscar, Iā€™m sorry. I didnā€™t realizeā€”ā€
ā€œOf course you didnā€™t,ā€ he interrupted, his frustration boiling over. ā€œYou didnā€™t realize because youā€™re happy, and Iā€™m justā€¦ Iā€™m just the friend whoā€™ll always be there, right? The one you can ignore until you need him.ā€
Her eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face. ā€œThatā€™s not true, Oscar. You know you mean everything to me.ā€
ā€œDo I?ā€ he challenged, standing up and pacing the room. ā€œBecause it doesnā€™t feel like it, Y/N. It feels like Iā€™m losing you, and itā€™s killing me.ā€
The air between them grew thick with tension, the kind that had never existed before. Y/N stood up too, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to reach out to him again. ā€œOscar, please donā€™t do this. I donā€™t want to lose you.ā€
ā€œThen why does it feel like youā€™ve already left me?ā€ he snapped, his voice breaking. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep his emotions in check but failing miserably. ā€œYou donā€™t get it, Y/N. You have no idea how much this hurts.ā€
ā€œThen tell me!ā€ she cried, her voice cracking with desperation. ā€œTell me whatā€™s wrong so I can fix it!ā€
Oscar froze, the words caught in his throat. This was it. This was the moment he could tell her everything, but he couldnā€™t find the courage. Instead, he just shook his head, his eyes filled with unshed tears. ā€œI canā€™t do this anymore.ā€
ā€œOscar, please donā€™t say that,ā€ she whispered, stepping closer to him, but he stepped back, creating a distance between them that felt like miles.
ā€œI love you,ā€ he blurted out, his voice trembling. ā€œIā€™ve loved you for so long, and Iā€™ve tried to bury it, to just be your friend, but I canā€™t anymore. I canā€™t stand watching you with someone else. Itā€™s killing me, Y/N.ā€
Her breath hitched, her eyes wide with shock. ā€œOscarā€¦ Iā€¦ I didnā€™t know.ā€
ā€œOf course, you didnā€™t,ā€ he said bitterly, wiping away a tear that had escaped. ā€œYou didnā€™t know because I never told you. But nowā€¦ now itā€™s too late. Youā€™re with him, and Iā€™m justā€¦ Iā€™m nothing.ā€
Oscarā€™s voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt as he stared at Y/N, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had tried to hold it in for so long, but the weight of her neglect was too much to bear, and now, it was all spilling out.
ā€œYou know, Y/N, I get that youā€™re excited about Jake. I really do. But do you even realize what youā€™ve been doing? Or should I say, what you havenā€™t been doing?ā€ His voice was laced with bitterness, the words cutting through the air like a blade.
Y/N blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. ā€œOscar, what are you talking about? Iā€™ve just beenā€”ā€
ā€œNo, donā€™t,ā€ he cut her off sharply, shaking his head. ā€œDonā€™t you dare try to brush this off like itā€™s nothing. Youā€™ve been so wrapped up in your new relationship that youā€™ve completely forgotten about me. About us. Do you even remember the last time we had an actual conversation that wasnā€™t interrupted by you checking your phone? Or the last time we made plans that you didnā€™t cancel for Jake?ā€
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She was struggling to process the raw emotion pouring out of him.
Oscar continued, his voice rising as the frustration he had been holding back for weeks finally broke free. ā€œIā€™ve been your best friend for how long now? Iā€™ve always been there for you, always. But ever since you started dating him, itā€™s like I donā€™t even exist anymore. You barely text me back, you cancel on me all the time, and when we do hang out, itā€™s like youā€™re not even here.ā€
He took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers, pleading for her to understand. ā€œDo you have any idea how that feels? To go from being someoneā€™s everything to feeling like youā€™re justā€¦ nothing? Like youā€™re just a placeholder until something better comes along?ā€
Y/Nā€™s eyes filled with tears, but Oscar was too caught up in his own pain to notice. ā€œI get that things change when you start dating someone, but you didnā€™t just changeā€”you fucking disappeared. And Iā€™m left here, trying to figure out where the hell my best friend went. The person I could always count on, who knew me better than anyoneā€¦ sheā€™s gone.ā€
His voice cracked, the anger giving way to the deep hurt he had been carrying. ā€œAnd you know whatā€™s worse? Iā€™ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. But I was too scared to say anything because I didnā€™t want to mess things up. I didnā€™t want to lose you. But nowā€¦ it feels like Iā€™ve lost you anyway.ā€
Y/Nā€™s breath hitched as she took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never seen Oscar like this, so raw and vulnerable, and it terrified her.
ā€œI tried to be happy for you,ā€ Oscar continued, his voice quieter now, filled with a deep sadness. ā€œI tried to convince myself that I could just be your friend and that would be enough. But itā€™s not enough, Y/N. Not when you treat me like Iā€™m nothing.ā€
He looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. ā€œI thought I meant more to you than this. I thought we meant more. But maybe I was wrong.ā€
Y/Nā€™s heart shattered at the sight of him, at the pain in his eyes. She reached out to him, desperate to hold him, to comfort him, but he pulled away again, shaking his head.
ā€œI canā€™t be around you right now,ā€ Oscar said, his voice broken. ā€œI need timeā€¦ I need to figure out how to stop loving you.ā€
ā€œOscar, please donā€™t go,ā€ she begged, tears streaming down her face. ā€œWe can talk about thisā€”ā€
But Oscar had already turned away, grabbing his keys and heading for the door. ā€œIā€™m sorry, Y/N. I justā€¦ I canā€™t.ā€
With that, he left, leaving Y/N standing in the middle of the room, her heart aching with the weight of what had just happened. She sank to the floor, sobs wracking her body as she realized that the one person she needed most was the one she had pushed away.
And Oscar, driving aimlessly through the city, felt more alone than he ever had in his entire life, knowing that he had finally spoken his truth, but at what cost?
time skip
Y/N was left alone in the apartment, her mind reeling from everything Oscar had said. As the door slammed shut behind him, she crumpled to the floor, her chest tightening with an overwhelming sense of loss. The tears came in uncontrollable waves, each sob tearing through her as she gasped for breath.
How did I not see this? she thought, her mind racing. How could I be so blind?
She buried her face in her hands, the memories flooding backā€”every moment they had shared, every laugh, every hug, every time Oscar had been there for her, and she had taken it all for granted. They played like a cruel montage in her mind, the pieces finally falling into place.
Iā€™ve always loved him, she realized, the truth hitting her like a punch to the gut. But I was too scaredā€¦ too scared of losing him, of ruining everything.
She thought back to every time they had cuddled on the couch, his arms wrapped around her, making her feel safe and warm. She had always known there was something more between them, something unspoken, but she had pushed it down, terrified of what it would mean if she acknowledged it. Because if I lost Oscarā€¦ Iā€™d lose everything.
Her phone was in her hand before she even realized it, her fingers trembling as she dialed his number. Each ring felt like an eternity, the silence on the other end growing heavier with every passing second.
Voicemail.
ā€œHey, this is Oscar. I'm probably driving really fast or I'm not in the mood. Anyway Iā€™ll get back to you.ā€
The beep echoed in her ears, and she quickly hung up, her heart pounding as panic set in. She dialed again, desperately hoping he would pick up this time, that she could tell him everything she was feeling before it was too late. But once again, it went to voicemail.
ā€œOscar, please,ā€ she whispered to herself, her voice shaking as she redialed, only to be met with the same message. Each time the voicemail beeped, she hung up, feeling the hope drain out of her.
Finally, after the fifth failed attempt, she couldnā€™t hold it in any longer. The voicemail beeped, and she began to speak, her voice thick with tears.
ā€œOscar, itā€™s me. Please, please, just listen to thisā€¦ Iā€”Iā€™m so sorry,ā€ she started, her voice breaking. ā€œIā€™m sorry I didnā€™t see it, sorry I didnā€™t realize how much I was hurting you. Iā€™ve been so selfish, so blind, and I didnā€™t even notice what I was doing to you.ā€
She paused, trying to steady her breathing, but the tears kept coming. ā€œIā€¦ Iā€™m terrified, Oscar. Iā€™ve always been terrified of losing you, of messing this up, of losing the best thing in my life. And thatā€™s why I neverā€¦ I never let myself feel what I was feeling. I thought if I pretended it wasnā€™t there, we could stay the same forever.ā€
Her voice cracked as she continued, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. ā€œBut I do love you, Oscar. I love you so much it hurts. And the thought of losing youā€¦ of you walking out of my lifeā€¦ I canā€™t bear it. I was so scared that if I admitted how I felt, everything would change, and Iā€™d lose you forever. But now I realizeā€¦ I was losing you anyway.ā€
She choked on a sob, pressing a hand to her mouth as she tried to hold herself together. ā€œPlease, Oscar, donā€™t shut me out. I know I messed up, I know I hurt you, but I need you to know that you mean everything to me. You always have. And Iā€™m so sorry I didnā€™t tell you sooner, that I didnā€™t see it until now.ā€
Y/N wiped at her tears, her voice trembling as she spoke the final words. ā€œPlease, Oscar, donā€™t walk away. I love youā€¦ I love you so much, and Iā€™m begging you to give me a chance to make this right. Pleaseā€¦ please donā€™t leave me.ā€
The message ended, the silence that followed felt deafening. Y/N let the phone slip from her hand, her body shaking with sobs as she curled up on the floor, consumed by the fear that it might be too late, that she might have lost him for good.
Please, Oscar, come back to me.
time skip
Oscar sat on a bench near the parking lot, his car parked a few meters away. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. His heart felt heavy, his mind spinning with everything that had just happened. He didnā€™t know where to go, or what to do, so he just sat there, staring blankly into the distance, replaying their fight over and over again in his mind.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking through his thoughts. He pulled it out, seeing Y/Nā€™s name flash on the screen with a voicemail notification. His thumb hovered over the play button for a moment, hesitant. Part of him didnā€™t want to hear what she had to say, afraid it would only hurt him more. But another part, the part that had loved her for so long, needed to know.
With a deep breath, he pressed play.
As Y/Nā€™s voice filled the air, raw with emotion and thick with tears, Oscarā€™s heart clenched. Each word she spoke was like a dagger, cutting deeper into the hurt he was already feeling, but there was something else tooā€”something that made his breath catch in his throat.
ā€œIā€¦ Iā€™m terrified, Oscar. Iā€™ve always been terrified of losing you, of messing this up, of losing the best thing in my life. And thatā€™s why I neverā€¦ I never let myself feel what I was feeling. I thought if I pretended it wasnā€™t there, we could stay the same forever.ā€
He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him. He could hear the desperation in her voice, the regret, the love she had been too scared to admit. It mirrored everything he had felt for so long, everything he had been too afraid to say.
Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as the message continued, her confession unfolding in a way he had never imagined but had always longed for. The voicemail ended with her pleading, the words echoing in his mind, ā€œPlease, Oscar, donā€™t walk away. I love youā€¦ I love you so much, and Iā€™m begging you to give me a chance to make this right. Pleaseā€¦ please donā€™t leave me.ā€
He sat there, stunned, the silence that followed almost unbearable. He played the message again, needing to hear it one more time to believe it was real. As Y/Nā€™s voice replayed, full of vulnerability and love, something shifted inside him. The anger he had felt earlier began to melt away, replaced by a deep, aching love that had never gone away.
Just as the message ended for the second time, Oscar became aware of a presence behind him. He turned around slowly and saw Y/N standing a few feet away, her face pale and tear-streaked, her eyes wide with uncertainty. She must have found him while he was listening to the voicemail, and now she stood there, silent, waiting.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The weight of the situation hung between them, both of them trying to process what had just happened. Finally, Oscar broke the silence, his voice soft and tentative.
ā€œYouā€¦ you really mean that?ā€ he asked, his gaze locking onto hers, searching for any sign that this was all some kind of cruel joke.
Y/N nodded, her voice trembling as she spoke. ā€œEvery word, Oscar. I mean it. Iā€™ve been so scared of ruining what we had that I didnā€™t realize I was ruining it by pushing you away. But I do love you. Iā€™ve loved you for so long, and Iā€™m so, so sorry it took me this long to realize it.ā€
Oscar stood up, taking a hesitant step toward her. ā€œI didnā€™t want to lose you either,ā€ he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. ā€œI thought if I kept my feelings to myself, we could just keep going the way we were. But it was killing me, Y/N. Watching you with Jakeā€¦ it felt like I was losing you, and I didnā€™t know how to stop it.ā€
Y/N took a shaky breath, stepping closer until they were just inches apart. ā€œYou were never going to lose me, Oscar. Youā€™re my best friend, and you always will be. Butā€¦ I want more than that. I need more than that. I love you, and I want to be with you, if youā€™ll have me.ā€
Oscarā€™s eyes softened, the pain of the past weeks slowly fading as he looked at her, really looked at her, and saw everything he had ever wanted. ā€œOf course Iā€™ll have you,ā€ he said, his voice breaking slightly. ā€œIā€™ve wanted that for so long, Y/N. I love you too, more than anything. I justā€¦ I didnā€™t think you felt the same.ā€
She smiled through her tears, reaching out to take his hand. ā€œI do, Oscar. Iā€™m sorry it took me so long to see it, to admit it. But Iā€™m here now, and Iā€™m not going anywhere. I promise.ā€
Oscar pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if he was afraid she might slip away if he let go. ā€œI donā€™t want to lose you,ā€ he whispered into her hair, his voice filled with relief and love.
ā€œYou wonā€™t,ā€ Y/N whispered back, burying her face in his chest. ā€œIā€™m not going anywhere, Oscar. Iā€™m right here, and Iā€™m not letting you go.ā€
They stood there in the quiet night, wrapped in each otherā€™s arms, the weight of unspoken words finally lifted. It wasnā€™t going to be easy, but they had each other, and that was all that mattered. In that moment, they both knew they had found something worth fighting for, something that had always been there, waiting for them to finally see it.
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hemmingsleclerc Ā· 9 months ago
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max is streaming and olivia just starts putting like hair clips in his hair and doing him hair styles and putting on some kids makeup on his facesšŸ˜‚šŸ˜‚ this is so girldad
Daddy's Girl ā”ƒMV1
So so cute this request!!šŸ„²šŸ’—
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It was a Saturday afternoon and Max was at home with his wife and daughter Olivia. Max, being on a vacation from the world of f1, was enjoying some time off, so that day he had decided to do a live on Twitch since he hadn't done one in a while.
While Max played concentratedly on the virtual track with his friends, the chat was filled with comments. Suddenly, the sound of small footsteps echoed in Max's room. Olivia, with her small pink backpack with the Disney princesses logo, made her triumphant entrance.
Viewers couldn't believe their eyes when Olivia appeared on screen. Max, still focused on the race, seemed taken aback when he heard the rustle of her small backpack.
Out of nowhere, Olivia pulled out a Barbie makeup set, complete with a variety of bright and colorful colors along with butterfly and flower clips. With the confidence of a professional makeup artist, she approached her unsuspecting father, who was still competing against his friends.
While she laughed with joy, Max played along, pretending to be a serious player with a new hair and matching makeup.
She delicately applied brightly colored makeup along with small sparkles in his eyes, creating a masterpiece on his father's face, much to the delight of the viewers.
''Daddy smile to put you pink blush''
''Like this?'' Max said without taking his eyes off the screen.
''Yes''
Just before finishing her work she told her father to put on ''duck lips'', Max not knowing what that meant took a quick look at what his daughter was trying to say before copying her action to put lip gloss on him.
"You look bonita, papa!" Olivia exclaimed, using her limited Spanish vocabulary she had picked up from her mom.
''Thank you very much angel , all this thanks to you''
Before Olivia left she could hear her uncle Lando tell her father "Max, you've never looked more handsome mate!", clearly mocking him but with Olivia's innocence, she happily approached her father, grabbed the small microphone and said with a loud voice ''Uncle Lando, you will be my next client!''
''Of course he will, angel'' Max responded, laughing with his little girl.
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reincrimination Ā· 2 months ago
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race against the clock
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criminal minds | aaron hotchner x reader
content warnings: canon-typical violence, guns, death (unsub), panic attack, kidnapping, mild injury.
collection: whumptober 2024, day 1: race against the clock/search party/panic attack.
ā€œDrop the weapon!ā€ Morgan yelled. Hotch looked at Morgan, and then to where Morgan was looking. The rest of the police force did the same, and suddenly, twenty guns were all drawn on him- the man who had you. He had a gun, too, but he wasnā€™t aiming it. He held it in his left hand, which Hotch- and you- had known was his dominant one, by the characteristics of the stab wounds that he had left on his victims. Stab wounds that he mightā€™ve- Hotchā€™s breath hitches- left on you. ā€œWhere is she?ā€ Hotch yells. Another agent had been talking, maybe Morgan, but he didnā€™t give a shit right now. ā€œWhat have you done with her?ā€
Aaron Hotchner knows how to keep his cool. Probably better than anyone on the team. In fact, he was the one to remind everyone to do just that before they breached the doors on this unsubā€™s decrepit cabin.
The woods were dark and eerie, as they always are on these types of days. It was some hour past midnight, Hotch couldnā€™t recall- all the numbers had started to blur together. The only time he had in his head was twelve hours, twelve hours since youā€™d gone missing. Taken right out of the parking lot of the precinct.
At least there hadnā€™t been much question about who had taken you. Finding the unsubā€™s cabin had been easy once Garcia had been given a name. Hotch only hoped recovering you would be that easy, and that youā€™d be unharmed.
ā€œFBI! Open the door!ā€ a man fully decked out in black SWAT gear and significantly more firepower than Hotch yelled, pounding on the front door.
The slats of the porch creaked under their feet, the paint flaking off the railings and the door-frame. The light shining through the smudged windows was the only clue this place was even inhabited.
There wasnā€™t even a car in the driveway.
The battering ram took the rotting door clear off of its hinges. The SWAT team fans out inside, searching room after room. Hotch hears them yelling ā€œclearā€ as they proceed through the house. He waited with baited breath. If it were up to him heā€™d have been inside with them, but they knew this guy had lots of firepower at his disposal, so it was SWATā€™s job to clear the house. Which, they had. Finding no one inside. Not even you.
Hotch felt the small balloon of hope inside him pop; the wind had been knocked out of him without so much as a physical punch. The SWAT team filed back out of the house. There was no unsub, and there was no sign of you.
A loud bang pierced the quiet night air.
The entire assembly of police and FBI agents all whirled around, guns drawn without a second thought. No one knew where to point them, though. The dark forest pressed in on all four sides of the cabin, the dirt road driveway even consumed by darkness after a few hundred feet.
ā€œDrop the weapon!ā€ Morgan yelled. Hotch looked at Morgan, and then to where Morgan was looking. The rest of the police force did the same, and suddenly, twenty guns were all drawn on him- the man who had you. He was half-hidden by the shadows cast by the tall pine trees, the moonlight unable to illuminate anything this far down from the forest canopy.
He had a gun, too, but he wasnā€™t aiming it. He held it in his left hand, which Hotch- and you- had known was his dominant one, by the characteristics of the stab wounds that he had left on his victims.
Stab wounds that he mightā€™ve- Hotchā€™s breath hitches- left on you.
ā€œWhere is she?ā€ Hotch yells. Another agent had been talking, maybe Morgan, but he didnā€™t give a shit right then. ā€œWhat have you done with her?ā€
The unsub smirked, his grubby little brows furrowing, beady eyes narrowing, as he stared at Hotch.
ā€œAnswer me!ā€ Hotch screamed. His voice broke on the last word.
ā€œTake it easy, man,ā€ Morgan said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
ā€œLet the others talk to him. Take a breath.ā€
Taking a breath seemed like an objectively good idea, but Hotch found, he could not. His chest felt tight, like a rope was being pulled taut around him. His vision had begun to swim, the only thing he was focused in on was that disgusting, abhorrent man who had- who had-.
ā€œHotch,ā€ Morgan repeated. He holstered his gun and took Hotchā€™s from him. ā€œCome here. Donā€™t let him see you like this. Thatā€™s what he wants.ā€
ā€œI needā€¦ā€ Hotch gasped. His hands were tingling, his fingers cramping. He tried to make fists with his hands as he followed Morgan back and around the back of an SUV, hidden from the unsubā€™s line of sight, but his hands werenā€™t cooperating. ā€œI need to get her back, Morgan.ā€
What was happening to him? He had never felt like this before. He wouldnā€™t even be able to fire a gun like this, not with his hands cramping. How was he supposed to do anything?
ā€œIs- are they talking to him?ā€ Hotch peeked around the side of the SUV. He saw Spencer, his hands out placatingly, trying to talk to the unsub. He trusted Spencer, he trusted all of his team, but he needed to be out there. What if the unsub said something that they all missed. That only Hotch could put together. What if he said that he had killed you? Stabbed you, like all the others, or worse? ā€œI need to- Morgan, give me my gun.ā€
ā€œHotch, relax,ā€ Morgan tapped his shoulders again, trying to draw his attention back. ā€œFocus on me. Breathe, slowly. Youā€™re hyperventilating. Youā€™re panicking, man. Youā€™re no help to her like this.ā€
ā€œMorgan, sheā€™s not just- fuck- sheā€™s not just an agent, sheā€™s- weā€™re-,ā€ Hotch stammered.
ā€œI know, Hotch. We all know. And weā€™re going to find her.ā€
Hotch felt his hands relaxing, his chest loosening, his composure returning, like clouds parting after a storm. Leaving a clear sky. He needed to focus on finding you, and he couldnā€™t do that if he was panicking. He held his breath and counted to seven and then exhaled and did it again, until his hands were steady and his vision was clear.
ā€œI told you,ā€ Hotch heard the unsub groan to Spencer, ā€œI donā€™t want to talk to you. I want to talk to Hotch. To Aaron.ā€
Morgan handed him his gun back and they left the shelter of the SUV. The unsub was still talking with Spencer, but had clearly noticed Hotchā€™s absence. The unsubā€™s gaze had flicked to track Hotch as he strode to the front of the crescent of officers. He kept his gun at his side- enough officers had their guns trained on the unsub anyways- in an attempt to be non-threatening.
ā€œIā€™m Aaron,ā€ Hotch said. He stepped forward, closer to the unsub. Hotch scanned his clothes, hands, arms, boots, everything, for any trace of blood, or dirt, or any clue as to where you were hidden. ā€œWhat do you want to talk about?ā€
ā€œI think you know what I want to talk about,ā€ the unsub huffed a laugh. ā€œYou were all she wanted to talk about.ā€
Wanted? In the past tense?
Hotch felt the panic rising again. He took a deep breath. He could do this, he could stay focused for you. He had to, if he ever wanted to see you- alive, or otherwise, again. He had to pretend this was no different than any other case, that you were just another victim. That was the only way for him to avoid panicking- something he had never known he needed to avoid doing, before. Before you. Before he cared about someone as much as he cared about you, before you were put in danger.
ā€œWhat else did you talk about?ā€ Hotch asked. He needed information, any small hint at where the man had hidden you.
ā€œPlenty.ā€ The unsub shifted his weight from foot to foot, his left hand flexed around the hilt of his handgun. ā€œWe talked about how I couldnā€™t wait to shoot you. How that would be more painful to her than any physical would I could inflict. She begged me not to. Have you ever heard her beg before?ā€
The unsub began to raise his left arm up, gun in hand, but before it passed his waistline, a hail of bullets rained down on him. His body hit the ground before Hotch could even blink.
ā€œNO!ā€ Hotch shouted. He holstered his own gun, and kicked the unsubā€™s gun away from his side. He sank to his knees, suit pants sinking into the damp mud and pine needles. Hotch knotted his fists in the manā€™s shirt, and shook him, hard. ā€œWhere is she?ā€
ā€œHotch,ā€ Emily murmured, somehow kneeling beside him now.
ā€œHotch, heā€™s gone.ā€
ā€œTell me where she is, you bastard!ā€ Hotchā€™s voice had begun to go raw from screaming. He shook him one more time. Then he noticed: the dark, round hole in the center of his forehead.
Hotch released his grip on the unsubā€™s body and stumbled to his feet.
His knees were wet from the mud, and maybe from the blood that had undoubtedly already pooled out around the body from the various gunshot wounds.
Now we have nothing, he thought, pushing past the crowd of officers. He glanced at the empty driveway. Not even a car.
Not even a car.
Hotch whipped around.
ā€œFollow the tire tracks!ā€ he ordered, breaking into a run. ā€œHe has to have used the car to move her. Wherever it is, she is.ā€
He pulled out his flashlight and shone it on the dirt driveway. The earth was wet and covered in pine needles, making it difficult to analyze what he found. Two divots on each side of the path denoted the place the tires mustā€™ve usually rested when the car was parked. They extended down the path through the forest, down a few miles to the main road. There wasnā€™t much room between the trees for the car to have pulled off, but he mustā€™ve found somewhere, because if he had taken you to the main road, the officers at the roadblocks there would have seen him.
Hotch broke into a run, shining his flashlight ahead of him, looking for the slightest disturbance in the forest floor. He heard footsteps and clamor behind him as the rest of the cops and his agents spread out into a search party. He knew they could get scent dogs out in a few hours, but your scent would be hard to track, if not impossible, especially if he was right and the unsub had moved you using a car. Searching on foot was Hotchā€™s only hope to find you soon.
He had said that they had talked about shooting him- how it would be more painful for you than anything he could possibly have done to her.
Implying that you had to have been alive when the unsub shot Hotch- or had tried to.
The relief and hope that flooded Hotch at that realization almost distracted him enough to miss what he had finally found- a tire track, veering off between two trees that the car had probably barely fit between. Hotch shone the beam of the flashlight on the trunks and noticed the bark had been scraped off, and chips of white paint were left in the gouges. You had to be somewhere close, if the unsub had walked on foot from where he had hidden you.
Hotch began yelling your name, and then, all the other officers started, too. They moved forward like in a grid search, looking behind every tree, kicking through the leaf cover for anything left behind. ā€œI found the car!ā€ Morgan yelled. Then, the words that Hotch had been waiting to hear for the last twelve- now more like thirteen- hours: ā€œI got her! Sheā€™s alive!ā€
Hotch ran towards the sound. The officers had already clustered around a small wooden structure, a hunting blind. A few meters behind it was the unsubā€™s parked car. The area quickly became illuminated in bright white lights as all the cops present shone their flashlights on you.
Hotch watched as Morgan began to help you up. Your hands were zip-tied tightly behind your back; Hotch could see dried blood around your wrists where they had cut into your skin. A pair of zip ties hung off of your ankles- Morgan must have just cut them off. He used his pocket knife to slash the ones holding your wrists together, too. Your hair was disheveled and full of leaves and debris, like you had been dragged along the floor, and a huge gash and bump to your right temple, like youā€™d been pistol whipped, glowed in the bright light of the flashlights.
ā€œWhere is he?ā€ you sobbed, clinging onto Morganā€™s arms as he helped you out of the blind. ā€œIs he dead?ā€
ā€œHeā€™s dead, sweetheart,ā€ Morgan tried to soothe you and pull you in for a hug, but you pushed him away, more strongly than you shouldā€™ve been able to after being tied up for so long.
ā€œNo!ā€ you wailed. ā€œHow could you let this happen?ā€
Confusion flashed on Morganā€™s face, and through Hotchā€™s mind.
Then, he realized. The unsub had known that he would die when he faced the police, but he knew that his final act would be to psychologically torture you, leaving you to wonder if one of the gunshots you had heard had been him shooting Hotch, like he had promised you heā€™d do as his final act.
Morgan had misunderstood your question. He had just told you that Hotch was dead.
Hotch finally closed the distance between the two of you. He grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. A broken sob wrenched its way out of your throat, tear tracks already cutting through the layer of dirt and dried blood on your face.
ā€œAaron,ā€ you croaked. ā€œOh, thank God.ā€
ā€œIā€™m here,ā€ Aaron murmured beside your ear, so softly no one else could hear. It was just you and him now, in your own world. The secrecy of your relationship be damned, he would deal with the consequences later. ā€œIā€™m right here. Iā€™ve got you.ā€
You broke down sobbing into his arms, all the fight flooding out of you as soon as you realized that Hotch was alive. The dehydration, the hunger, the fear, and the pain in your head all rushed back in. Hotchā€™s arms tightened around you, the only thing holding you up anymore. His face was smushed into your dirty hair, the blood on your wrists was staining his shirt and tie, but neither of you noticed, nor would you have cared if you had.
ā€œI knew you- I knew youā€™d find me,ā€ you gasped, fisting his shirt in your trembling fingers. You stared up at him, into his beautiful glossy brown eyes, committing every inch of his face to memory. You had thought youā€™d never see him again, never hear his voice again, never feel his touch again. ā€œWhen I heard the shots, I thought- oh, my God- I thought you were-.ā€
ā€œShh,ā€ Aaron soothed. He wrapped a hand around the back of your head, near the base of your skull, and guided your face into the crook of his neck. His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, a wet, raw sound. ā€œI know.ā€
ā€œI thought heā€¦ā€ you mumbled into his neck, the words dying on your parched lips, or before that, in your sore throat. ā€œAaron.ā€
ā€œIā€™ve got you, honey,ā€ he murmured back, cradling your head so softly in his big hands. ā€œYouā€™re safe now.ā€
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madelynn-sienna Ā· 3 months ago
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coney island p. I (max verstappen x reader)
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ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
ā˜…Ā prompt:Ā ā›ā› what's a lifetime of achievement? if I pushed you to the edge? āœāœ ā˜…Ā pairingĀ : max verstappen x reader ā˜…Ā face claimĀ : lily collins (+ one picture of kelly piquet and margot robbie each) ā˜…Ā genresĀ : angst ā˜…Ā a/nĀ : this will be a two-part hurt/comfort story inspired by the song coney island. be rest assured while this half is quite sad, the second half will make up for the angst and we will get a happy max x yn ending! also, per some creative liberty i took, max is only 23 years old here (he started racing in 2019, won his first gp in 2021 and was in school with the reader before he dropped out to pursue racing full time). ā˜…Ā feedback and requests are always appreciated!
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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liked byĀ yourinstagram,Ā redbullracing,Ā landonorris and others
maxverstappen simply lovely race šŸ† what an amazing weekend and victory in jeddah, thank you all for your incredible support šŸ‡øšŸ‡¦
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yourinstagram another fabulous performance #mv01 šŸ”„šŸ”„šŸ”„
redbullracing incredibly strong race today, a 1-2 finish is all we could have asked for šŸ’™
user1 tu tu tu du max verstappen! user2 fastest pit stop too.
yourinstagram made me so proud max, ik houd van je šŸ’•
maxverstappen ik hou ook van jou mijn liefste ā¤ļø user3 they said they loved each other in dutch. user4 he also called her 'his sweetheart' šŸ„¹ user5 max and yn are literally the it couple on the circuit rn. user6 right? three time world champion and a bestselling author. user7 they so need to make a movie about it. user8 or a book, imagine a twisted lies style drama šŸ˜­
ruthbuscombe the strategy šŸ’Æ
landonorris congrats mate!
maxverstappen thanks. user9 we're waiting for a win from you too lando! user10 this aged well haha
schecoperez Ā”bien hecho!
user11 presenting our four time world champion everyone!
user12 we're only on the second race of the season šŸ˜­ user13 i mean if last year's anything to by, that's enough.
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
text exchanges between yn & max dated 23/07, 02/08 and 04/08.
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ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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liked byĀ yourbestfriend1,Ā lilymhe, francisca.cgomes and others
yourinstagram it's supposed to be fun, turning twenty-one...
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user1 faster than the flying dutchman?
user2 yoo-hoo, @.maxverstappen where are you? user3 right? like he's usually the first one here...
carmenmmmundt happy birthdayšŸ„‚
danielricciardo happy 21 yn šŸ¾
user4 why isn't max in the pictures?
user5 he's been busy with the belgian gp! user6 dude, that finished on sunday ā€” it's the next saturday. user7 he's prolly just really stressed, he hasn't won since canada. user8 yeah, but yn through him a massive party last year. user9 so? circumstances were different... she isn't busy 24/7. user10 she literally has a job.
alexandrasaintmleux belle filleā£ļø
charlesleclerc joyeux anniversaire šŸŽ‰
user11 that caption's giving me bad vibes...
user12 me too! user13 its from all too well, that's such a sad song šŸ˜­ user14 i wonder why she chose it? user15 this better not be a sign.
user16 seriously? where is max, it's been 24 hours...
user17 check their stories, they're like done done. user18 nooooooooošŸ˜­ user19 she gave so many signs...
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ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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yourinstagram added to their story. maxverstappen added to their story.
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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liked byĀ charlesleclerc,Ā redbullracing,Ā landonorris and others
maxverstappen 5 wins in 5 races - thank you for your support in monza, baku, singapore, texas and sao paulo. you've made me happier than you know, happier than i've ever been before.
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user1 he really do be out here pretending he didn't break yn's heart.
user2 of course, he needs to maintain his bravado. user3 otherwise people, and he will realise, he messed up. user4 i can't believe he's trying to snub our girl yn.
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ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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redbullracing max verstappen wins the world drivers championship 2024, after an outstanding race at the las vegas street circuit that leaves him at with a 62 point lead in the standings ā¤ļø šŸ’› šŸ’™
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user1 max, max, max, super max, max
user2 tu tu tu du max verstappen user3 i called it! i said he'd win the wdc back in jeddah šŸ†
user4 were you standing in the hallway with a big cake? happy birthday.
user5 of course, he just painted yn's bluest skies the darkest grey. user6 you are getting pressed for a breakup you know zero about! user7 max literally said it in his interviews and his statement. user8 they broke up because he was too busy. user9 ergo, he wasn't there for her, not even on her birthday!
lewishamilton amazing work - congratulations max
user10 what a goat ā¤ļø
danielricciardo maaaax verstappennnnn! four time world champion.
user11 why'd I read that like pierrreeee gaslyyyyy? user12 me toošŸ˜­ daniel's an icon.
fernandoalonso Ā”muchas felicidades!
user13 real question here is, what's a lifetime of achievement?
user14 especially when he pushed her to the edge. user15 right like did you see her in miami, she looked so sadšŸ˜­ user16 we all know she was just too nice too leave. user17 i'd have dumped his ass ages ago.
user17 definition of a LEGEND
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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f1Ā šŸš© Red flag in the Abu Dhabi as Max Verstappen suffers a huge crash. The medical rescue team is currently trying to get the Red Bull driver away the resultant debris and fire as safely as possible.
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rubywingsracing Ā· 3 months ago
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I present to you my most ambitious project yet:
I love yall the mostest so you get it firstest šŸ„°
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vettelsvee Ā· 4 months ago
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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel āœ©ā‚ŠĖš.ā‹† PART 1: I'LL SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN [NEXT PART]
goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!
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rb sebastian vettel x gf!reader
word count: 4095
summary: seb's gf finds out she's pregnant, and she decides that hiding her pregnancy is the best she could do due to seb's career
warnings: pregnancy, mentions of cheating, curse words, angst, fighting. set on may 2013. for a bit of background: reader and seb have been friends since they were literal babies, but growing up their feelings changed and started dating on 2006.
a/n: this is actually the first chapter of the very first series, Infinity, i posted here! i had to cancel it because i had some problems with wattpad people telling me through indirects i copied their work and i got very, very unmotivated with this story i absolutely love (when actually this was a draft I had of a tom holland fic back in 2017 lol), but i'd love to post the following parts if you like this one! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3
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Ā© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
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You pulled the flush and got up, being careful not to get dizzy. You took some paper and wiped the corners of your mouth to remove any possible traces of vomit. You headed to the sink automatically, quickly pulling out the toothbrush youā€™ve gotten used to carrying since nausea became part of your daily routine. You really tried to get rid of the acidity in your throat and the bad taste in your mouth, but as you expected, and knowing you've been experiencing this more times than you'd like in the past month and a half, it was impossible.
"Y/N, are you still there? Are you okay?" Britta's voice, accompanied by a few knocks on the door, snapped you out of your trance. You startled and forced yourself to answer, even though it was the last thing you feel like doing.
"Yes, Iā€™m coming. Just a sec!"
"Donā€™t take too long," she replied. "Not that I donā€™t want you to take your time, but Seb is worried."
Panic-stricken, you suppressed a laugh that almost escaped.
If only he knew what you were about to doā€¦
"Donā€™t worry, Iā€™ll be right out," you answered.
You stared at yourself in the mirror, contemplating your own reflection longer than youā€™d like. Minutes passed, and you almost completely lost track of time, aware that you needed to put an end to the intrusive thought that was telling you that what you were about to do was, wrong but inevitably the best thing.
You were going to break away from everything youā€™ve wanted since you were a child just because things hadn't turned out "right." Seb was at the peak of his professional career, constantly surpassing himself in every race, making history, while you remained stuck in your hometown, working at a bar, dealing with drunks and immature kids pretending to be adults daily, because you didnā€™t have the luck, or perhaps the financial means, to study what you had dreamed of since you were a child who just wanted to make music.
You leaned on the sink, feeling the cold starting to penetrate your body. A great tremor shook you, and it became increasingly difficult to stay on your feet. Your eyes filled with tears as you confronted the reality of what you were about to do, of the decision you'd made.
Since your boyfriend began not only achieving his dreams but making a name for himself, you thought you didnā€™t deserve him because you were heading in the opposite direction. Now that youā€™ve gotten pregnant by him, possibly because the birth control pills you were taking failed for some unknown reason, you felt like this even more.
Despite the love you still felt and possibly always will feel for Sebastian, since you took the pregnancy test with Hanna at one of the most secluded malls in Heppenheim, you knew that letting him know he was going to be a father was never part of your plans.
"Come on, Y/Nā€¦" you told yourself, still staring at your reflection. "This is for Seb. You're doing this for him and his career."
You took a deep breath a couple more times, feeling the knot in your throat choking you. You looked at the girl full of insecurities you were one more time. Her eyes reflected doubt and, above all, fear, and you sadly sensed that it will continue to be this way from now on.
Trying to control yourself, you slowly opened the bathroom door, as if wanting to torture yourself. Britta was sitting in one of the chairs, reviewing something in a notebook until you closed the door a bit harder than you meant to.
"Are you really okay?" she asked again, giving you an uncertain look. "I've been hearing you vomit for several weeks now. Donā€™t you think you should go to the doctor?"
The knot in your throat seemed to tighten even more. See a doctorā€¦ Of course youā€™d been to the doctor! Four weeks and, as of today, four days pregnant was the answer, but no one beyond your parents and your best friend could know.
"Yes, Iā€™m fine," you replied quickly, trying to fake your answer as best as you could. "Donā€™t worry. Itā€™s probably just a bit of stress," you added, praying she believed you. "I haven't had time to see a doctor, but I assure you, with all my heart, that everything is fine."
And that's why you're leaving the love of your life today.
Britta seemed to hesitate for a moment. Her lips remained slightly open, as if she wanted to say something. Her look gave you the feeling that she didn't quite believe what you were saying.
"Whatever you say, Y/N," she finally said, standing up from her seat. "But seriously, if you need to talk or anything, Iā€™m here for you."
"I know."
"Well, seeing that you're as calm as a lake, weā€™d better hurry up," she told you. "The last free practice session is about to start, and Seb is probably worried why we havenā€™t come back yet."
You prepared to leave the room with her. You were more than sure to go with her, but as you were almost out the room, you realize it was now or never.
You stopped before going from the driverā€™s room to the garage, watching Britta hurry down the stairs, probably aware that you were running late even though there were still about forty-five minutes before the session started.
"Wait, Britta. Just a sec!"
You were convinced your shout from the top of the stairs was heard by more people than youā€™d like. You wished you could turn invisible as you saw some eyes on you, including Brittaā€™s, which made it hard to speak, and not to mention the variety of emotions you were feeling inside you.
You needed to calm down and act a bit better, or everything youā€™d been mulling over will end up falling apart.
"Iā€™d like to talk to Sebā€¦ alone," you finally said.
"Y/N Y/L/N," she said your name much more seriously now. "Youā€™ve told me that everything is fine, butā€¦ are you sure it really is? Are you sure nothingā€™s wrong?"
No, everything is wrong, and yes, more things are happening than Iā€™d like.
You knew you could trust Britta completely. You were sure that if you told her the news before you did to Seb, she wouldnā€™t say anything, at least not right away. You wanted to do it; in fact, youā€™d love to do it because she was like a second mother to you, but you knew you couldn't because, once you left, thereā€™s a really high chance she might end up telling him everything in a moment of weakness.
"Yes, yes, Iā€™m fine. Itā€™s nothing serious, donā€™t worry," you replied with a sigh, trying to console the PR woman and yourself. "I just need to talk to him aboutā€¦ well, a minor issue."
"Of course. Go get him, Iā€™ll wait here. Heā€™s probably talking to Rocky or Horner about who knows what. He hasnā€™t gone far, especially considering how eager he was to see you."
"Can you get him for me?" you let it out casually.
You ignored her last comment because now, your nerves were eating you alive. Britta seemed to notice your anxiety, so you were grateful she ignored it and acted as if nothing is wrong.
You sighed in relief when you saw her nod, and you couldn't stop thanking her out loud for what she just did for you.
"Lie down on the physioā€™s couch and try to rest a bit, you look a bit pale," she insisted. Reluctantly, and after repeating it a couple more times, you finally listened to her. "Seb will be here soon. You know heā€™ll drop everything when it comes to you."
And it was true. Once she left, you remained lying down, drawing small shapes on your stomach with your index finger. As you whispered things to what would supposedly be your child, a whirlwind of varied thoughts flooded your mind.
A small pressure settled in your chest as you became aware that the idea of breaking up with Sebastian was becoming a reality. You didn't want to face it and largely refused to, but you knew that for both of you, especially him, it was actually the best.
Hiding the truth from the guy youā€™d loved longer than youā€™d like to admit is exactly the opposite of what you should do, but because he was the most important person in your life, and you knew him almost as well as yourself, you knew he'd have time to play moms and dads in real life.
This year, the only thing he should focus on was winning his fourth Formula 1 World Championship, not learning how to change diapers or feed a baby.
Your thoughts vanished when the door opened abruptly, startling you. Seb appeared with his suit hanging at his waist, hair completely tousled, and a face revealing worry matching the situation you havenā€™t told him about yet.
"Sunshine! Britta told me youā€™re not well. What happened? Do you want to go to the doctor? I donā€™t care about missing the free practice: youā€™re the most important thing."
The German quickly took your cheeks in his hands. You hadnā€™t even sat up, and he was already trying to warm your face with his palms, moving it from side to side and examining you as if he was a doctor with the solution to your problems.
"Iā€™m fine, love, relax," you said, breaking free from his grip.
"I know you better than Iā€™d like, Y/N. Youā€™re pale," he pointed out. "You rarely get pale. The last time I saw you like this was when the police chased us after they caught you doing an illegal concert in the school square."
Your anxiety grew more at his perception. You couldn't hide the lie you concocted with Hanna for much longer.
"Seb, really, Iā€™m fine," you insisted, swallowing hard as you tried to find the right words.
He didn't seem to agree with your answer once again, and he didn't seem willing to let it go easily.
For a moment, you were tempted to tell him the truth, especially when you noticed his eyes fixed on you, not intending to look away until he found out what you really wanted to sayā€¦ As if he wants to know that he was going to be a father next January if your gynecologistā€™s calculations and the latest technology were correct.
You mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. His concern overwhelmed you completely. When he made a move to hug you and you fell into his arms, you knew you couldn't keep dodging the truth.
"Sebā€¦" you started to say, slowly pulling away from him, "the truth is that... well, there's something wrong."
He clenched his jaw and got very serious.
"Tell me, Y/N. Whatever it is, you know you can tell me."
"I know, love. I want to tell you everything, butā€¦" you began calmly, your voice breaking. "This is different, and itā€™s going to be a bit difficult."
"What do you mean by different and difficult? Y/N, whatā€™s going on?"
Your hands fidgeted nervously as you tried to find the best way to cause him the least harm possible. You noticed that the German's nervous and worried tone had dissipated, and now it was anger that seemed to be consuming him.
"I want to tell you, but I donā€™t know how to do it without hurting you," you admitted in a whisper.
There it was, you had let it slip.
You didnā€™t know what else to say, so you decided to wait for Sebastianā€™s response. Anguish had taken hold of him, and you knew he was waiting for your words as much as you were waiting for his.
His behavior wasnā€™t helping you; on the contrary, the feeling of guilt was consuming you, as you had foreseen, but there was no turning back now.
It was impossible for you to even think coherently enough to say something that made sense.
You watched as your boyfriendā€™s gaze turned into pure pain, a pleading search for answers that you didnā€™t dare to give him.
"Sebā€¦" you spoke again, struggling to maintain your composure and reaching for his hand at the same time. "I need you to listen to me, please."
"I just want you to tell me the truth, Y/N," he called you by your full name. That was the indicator that things werenā€™t going well and wouldnā€™t be again. "Whatever it is, Iā€™ll be able to deal with it."
"I donā€™t want us to be together anymore," you declared. "Iā€™m not in love with you anymore. I havenā€™t been for about a month or so."
The silence that flooded the room after your false confession was too uncomfortable. His eyes filled with tears; yours did too, but for a different reason than his.
He thought you had stopped loving him when, in fact, you loved him more than ever, especially now.
"Why are you telling me this? Why, Y/N?" he wanted to know. "I thought we were greatā€¦ I really believed we were better than ever."
"I donā€™t know, Seb," you murmured between sobs, trying to hide your face so he wouldnā€™t see how truly affected you were. "There areā€¦ there are couples that stop loving each other, and thatā€™s what I think has happened with me. With us."
"What can I do to make you fall in love with me again? I canā€™t lose you. I canā€™t lose the sunshine of my life, not when we promised each other a life together."
"You canā€™t do anything, Seb, and Iā€™m really sorry," you falsely admitted with sadness, trying not to succumb to his desperate plea.
"Sometimes things stop being what they were in the beginning, and, wellā€¦ ours is no longer what it used to be."
"Of course, itā€™s not what it used to be! Everything was getting better until you decided to drop this on me, Y/N!" Sebastian yelled at you.
"I was even going to ask you if you wanted us to getā€¦"
"And thatā€™s why I feel itā€™s better if we move on, but each on our own path!" you interrupted with another shout.
Itā€™s not real, Y/N. Everything youā€™re saying is a lie.
You inhaled and exhaled more times than you would have liked, but it felt necessary. This charade to try to make Sebā€™s life a little better was not only costing you your relationship but also your mental health in the long run.
"Is there someone else, Y/N?"
Vettel's voice denoted anger. Rage consumed him at the possibility that there was an answer he didnā€™t want to hear. His fists, clenched tightly and turning his knuckles white, were proof of it.
"No, not exactly."
And once again, the camouflaged truth.
"What are you saying?" he spat at you, getting closer and closer, consumed by anguish.
"I mean not exactly, butā€¦ yes. There is someone else, Seb," you admitted.
The shouts, full of reproaches, insults, and slurs, flooded the room.
You tried to turn a deaf ear. You thought this was all part of a performance and tried to convince yourself that in the future, everything would be fine when you knew it would be the opposite.
"How could you do this to me, Y/N?! How could you cheat on me after almost seven fucking years together?!" Sebastian shouted, taking out his anger on a vase on his desk, throwing it to the ground, spilling the water and the flowers he had given you just a day ago.
"Weā€™ve been through so many things together. Weā€™ve grown up together and fulfilled our dreams together, and now youā€™re leaving me for some guy you must have slept with on a whim?!"
"Do you think this is easy for me, Sebastian?" you replied, your words true for once. "Stop lying, okay? The only person who has fulfilled their dreams here is you," you said, showing your disagreement on that topic that you knew hurt you and that he had mentioned to hurt you. "While youā€™ve been living your life as a driver and being the center of attention, Iā€™ve kept working in the same disgusting bar full of creepy old men Iā€™ve been working at since I finished high school," you shouted, furious. You knew this kind of stress wasnā€™t good for the baby, but right now you didnā€™t care. "Iā€™ve been saving as much as I could to build a prosperous future even though my salary was a pittance, composing songs and singing them with the hope that theyā€™ll reach someone someday and not be forgotten."
"Iā€™ve told you a million times that you donā€™t need to work in that fucking bar full of drunk old men who fuck you with their eyes to have a good life," he protested, now much calmer. "With what they pay me we can live comfortably. It's more than enough for both of us."
"I know," you responded calmly, though you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, "but I also know that I can achieve things on my own without anyoneā€™s help."
The blonde let out an ironic laugh. Immediately, he crossed his arms, lifted his head, and looked at you.
"Youā€™ve always been too stubborn, Y/N. Now I see what your future expectations are. After all, I understand: if you never got into the Berlin Art Academy on your own, and youā€™re still working at the same place after so longā€¦"
You stood still, not knowing what to say or do because you knew exactly what he meant with every word that came out of his mouth. It felt like your feet were cemented to the ground; his words continuously hitting you, wanting to hurt you more and more.
"How dare you to say that to me?"
If you were already shaken and almost broken after this whole conversation, now you were completely sunk. Seeing your reaction, tears streaming down your cheeks non-stop, he seemed to regret it.
Quickly, he approached you, opening his arms intending for you to bury yourself in them. You, as stubborn as he said you were, refused not only the hug but any physical and non-physical contact he wanted to have with you.
"Y/N, Iā€™m sorryā€¦ I didnā€™t mean to say that," yes, that was clear, but it had already been said, and the damage was done. "I was wrong. Please forgive me."
No matter how much he kept talking, trying to apologize and make amends, there was nothing else to do.
Without saying anything else, you began to gather all your belongings from the driverā€™s room of who could now be considered your ex-boyfriend. You didnā€™t want to do it; you didnā€™t want to start the zero-contact phase with the boy you had loved since you were ten years old, the one who had loved you like no one ever had before and like no one ever would.
You were saying goodbye to the father of your child to venture into raising her alone so he could pursue his dream in peace and achieve all the successes he so longed for.
ā€œWhat are you doing, Y/N?ā€
ā€œPacking. Iā€™m leaving.ā€
Your eyes were fixed on the floor, your hands fumbling with the few belongings left to pack in the small backpack you usually took to the paddock. Now, you would have to return to your hotel room and quickly pack everything into the suitcase, rush to the airport, and pray you didnā€™t miss the flight.
ā€œWhat do you mean, youā€™re leaving?ā€ the blonde frowned, incredulous. ā€œItā€™s Friday, Y/N, we have the whole weekend ahead of us.ā€
ā€œWell, from now on, youā€™ll have all the weekends to yourself,ā€ you shook your head, unable to bear his comments trying to make you stay. ā€œFrom now on, you wonā€™t have me here on weekends, nor in your life. Iā€™m leaving your life, and Iā€™m not coming back,ā€ you repeated, emphasizing the finality of your words.
Vettel was speechless at your declaration. He kept shaking his head, approaching you, trying to take your belongings, but you stopped him.
No matter how much you wanted to, you werenā€™t going to stay.
ā€œWhat do you mean by ā€˜leaving my life and not coming backā€™?ā€
ā€œIt means Iā€™m going back to Heppenheim, Sebastian,ā€ you turned to him, trying to maintain composure. ā€œIā€™m going back, youā€™ll also end up going back even though we liveā€¦ you live in Switzerland,ā€ you immediately corrected yourself, ā€œbut I hope we never see each other again.ā€
The firmness behind your words scared you. Everything was a lie that, as the conversation progressed, had grown until you doubted what was real and what wasnā€™t.
ā€œI really hope you achieve everything you are working hard for,ā€ you continued, insisting to yourself not to break down right there. ā€œI hope you win the championship this year and get the four consecutive ones youā€™ve wanted for. You, more than anyone, deserve all of it, and I know youā€™re capable of that and much more.ā€
You said nothing more because you had stopped being strong. You left, without looking back, the room where you had spent much more time than imaginable, and one of the many places that made up the story starring Sebastian Vettel and you.
You carefully descended the stairs. You walked with a false sense of security through the RedBull garage, dodging any questions about why you were crying, where you were going, and if you had argued with the teamā€™s golden boy, including the endless questions from Britta Roeske that you were trying to ignore at all costs.
You felt curious eyes following you wherever you went, but you didnā€™t care in the slightest. It was all done.
Now, it was just you and the little pea, or whatever size the baby was.
ā€œY/N, wait!ā€
Sebastianā€™s desperate shouts echoed behind you, getting closer.
You stopped dead, clutching the only strap of the backpack hanging over your shoulder. You slowly turned toward the direction the voices seemed to be coming from and saw the driver running to you, almost choking, as he wiped tears from his cheeks and even those still falling from his eyes.
ā€œI love you, Y/N.ā€
His voice was choked, and his hands acted on their own. Still, it didnā€™t stop him from taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, where you tasted each otherā€™s tears as you had done many times in your relationship. Where you silently said millions of I love yous that only you and he knew perfectly.
ā€œPlease, donā€™t go, sunshine,ā€ the German expressed. ā€œWhatever it is, we can work on it, but please, donā€™t let us end.ā€
ā€œI love you too, Seb, but thereā€™s someone else.ā€
You finally confessedā€¦ not in the most ideal way, but in the right one, especially considering what your goal was after all this trail of lies.
ā€œThereā€™s a new person in my life, and Iā€™m afraid to say that no matter how much I love you, I love them more than I love you, and I always will,ā€ you continued, knowing that every word you were saying about your baby was true. ā€œI love you, Sebastian Vettel, and Iā€™ll never stop loving you, but that person is my main priority right now.ā€
ā€œHave you been unfaithful?ā€
Sometimes silence is worth more than a thousand words. In this case, it was the exact opposite.
You stood in front of him for a few seconds, debating internally whether to answer or leave as calmly as possible, without attracting more attention than you already had. You decided on the latter because you couldnā€™t speak, and the tears wouldnā€™t let you see clearly; not to mention your judgment was so clouded that you couldnā€™t think clearly about the next step to end this nightmare.
You finally directed one last look at Seb; whispered that you loved him and always would, even though it was over between you.
All it took was for you to lower your head, turn around, and continue walking, fighting not to look back, to realize that you had made the biggest mistake of your life and would never, for anything in the world, be able to forgive yourself.
And you knew perfectly well that Seb wouldnā€™t either.
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f1girliefics Ā· 5 months ago
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To Have It All
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Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: Sometimes even the most fulfilling lives have something missing.Ā 
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Max Verstappen, three times World Champion, should have it all.
Many thought he did.
He was successful in his career, he was rich and yet, he was missing something.
He would be lying if he said he didn't know what that something was.
You.
He was missing you.
Being established in your own career, you once dated Max.
It had been a couple years.
You two broke up due to an argument on both of your part. Max was never around when you needed him and he argued that it was his career.Ā 
It was a stupid argument.Ā 
Definitely not something you would split up with someone over.Ā 
Max has been missing you ever since.Ā 
It was his biggest mistake to let you go and he knew it back then, he knows it now.
But ever since you two broke up, you never went to any races. He tried to find you, apologize and make up but you avoided him, and he didn't blame you for it.
The day you two broke up, he messed up in more than one.
He crashed due to a careless mistake with Hamilton and he put out his frustration on you.Ā 
He shouldn't have. He had no right to do so.
But it wasn't the first time he blamed you for his mistakes on the track.
Today, as he stood on the podium yet again, on the brink of becoming a 3rd time World Champion, listening to his anthem, he felt empty.
He thought winning was everything, it was all his father ever told him.
And he used to believe it, but he wasn't so sure anymore.
He looked at the sea of people, some even booing at him. He felt their hate, yet he still watched them, hoping to see you.Ā 
But you weren't there.
So, once he had his phone back in his hands, he pulled up your Instagram, to his surprise you didn't block him, he looked at your newest shared post, oh how he missed you.
Then, before he knew it was another race day.
He is starting from P1, no surprises there.Ā 
He looked at your Insta again and saw a picture of the Paddock.Ā 
His heart raced as his stomach dropped.
He was both nervous and excited.Ā 
He still had time, according to the picture, you were close to the RedBull VIP.
So, he headed there.
Many people turned their heads as he passed them.
Soon, he saw Christian with his wife Geri as she was talking with you.
Christian soon left giving a small nod to Max.
You looked at Max and he saw you letting out a long sigh.
You looked just as nervous as he did, but you did have the balls to at least approach him first.
"Hi Max,"Ā 
"Nice to see you." his voice did not match his nervousness thankfully.Ā 
But he also knew that you could read him like an open book. You would know his true feelings even before he did.Ā 
ā€œCan we talk?ā€ Both of you said at the same time. You smiled and let him lead you to a secluded room where you could talk.Ā 
ā€œI posted the picture hoping you would see it. I guess it worked.ā€
ā€œYou set a trap?ā€
ā€œAnd you walked into it.ā€ You shrugged your shoulders as he looked at you dumbfounded. ā€œCongratulations on your many wins this season. You deserve it.ā€
ā€œIt means nothing.ā€
ā€œThat is not true. Your fans are proud of you. And so am I.ā€
ā€œAre you no longer my fan?ā€ He almost sounded desperate.Ā 
ā€œNumber 1. Forever.ā€
ā€œIā€™m sorry. I regret letting you go ever since. I am a dumbass. I took my anger out on you. If it means something, I still love you.ā€Ā  he held his breath, afraid to move. He knew the next couple of minutes would decide his happiness. He watched as you took a deep breath before you smiled and looked into his eyes.
"It means everything." Max let out a sigh he wasnā€™t even aware he was holding.Ā 
You were quick to rush into his arms and he hugged you close.Ā 
He noted how you changed your perfume.Ā 
He liked it.Ā 
He had you back now. And he knew, at the end of the day when he won, you would be there to kiss him and cheer for him.Ā 
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merchelsea Ā· 4 months ago
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i can take it ā€” logan sargeant
pairing: logan sargeant x girlfriend!vowles!reader
summary: she finds out about what her father (her boyfriendā€™s team manager) has been doing to him.
authorā€™s note: i know it has all been denied by logan himself but i wanted to do it anyways. DO NOT TAKE IT AS A FACT OR TRUE EVENT.
word count: 1k
warnings: idk if there's any cursing, not proofread, sad logan, kind of daddy issues (?)
masterlist | requests
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you were at home, laying down on the couch watching a show while you waited for hunger. everything you had to do was already done and dinner was ready, but you werenā€™t hungry to eat it.
you were tired, tho. you could easily go to sleep right now, but you knew better than to go to sleep without eating first.
that was when your phone started to ring and your best friendā€™s name appeared on the screen.
you stopped the show and picked up the call, putting it on speaker.
ā€œhi?ā€ you stretched your body on the couch.
ā€œhey, have you talked to logan recently?ā€ she asked, going straight to the point.
you could notice in her voice some kind of worry.
ā€œhm, yeahā€¦ why?ā€
ā€œand your dad?ā€ she asked again.
ā€œwhat? no, not really.ā€ you answered, not sure about what was going on.
ā€œopen up twitter, babe.ā€ her voice sounded alarmed. ā€œi think you might want to do this on your own, iā€™ll hang up now.ā€
you simply hummed a goodbye and started to see the panic on your twitter mentions.
everyone knew about you and logan by now, so you were not surprised with all the tags from his fans, but it seemed like they needed explanations on a certain allegation.
ā€œwhat the fuck?ā€ you screamed as you saw the caption of a podcast, your mind going red immediately.
itā€™s like you were only capable of feeling anger.
thatā€™s when you threw the blanket you had over your body away and got up. not caring about your clothing, that was just a pj, you got to your keys and left the house.
getting in your car, you drove as fast as legally possible to get to your fatherā€™s office.
while driving, your mind recalled everything you had learned about your boyfriendā€™s situation in williams.
a friend of a friend of logan told on a podcast that your boyfriend wasnā€™t even having fun in the team anymore. that was happening because of your father. apparently, the older vowles wasnā€™t giving logan the feedback he needed anymore and they were not on speaking terms.
you know how you say good morning to everyone? yeah, not even that.
you were more than pissed about all of this. you could understand that your father no longer had faith in logan, you did not agree with him but you could comprehend. but not even speaking to him? this was another level of childishness.
you got to your dadā€™s office in a matter of minutes and immediately asked to talk to him. you were told to wait, but, impatiently, crossed the building until you reached his room on your own and didnā€™t even bother to knock before going in and slamming the door behind you.
ā€œwhat the fuck is this about?ā€ you threw your phone on his table, an article opened.
ā€œwhat?ā€ vowles asked, a puzzled expression on his face. he started to read and his expression went from confused to worried in mere seconds.
ā€œyou are using silence treatment on logan?ā€ you asked, disbelief clear in your voice. he sighed as he supported his head with his hands. ā€œyou can not do this to a driverā€
another sigh.
you wanted him to say it was all a misunderstanding, that maybe this person was wrong or even lying. but you were just hurt when he spoke again.
ā€œohā€¦ this.ā€ he finally looked up at you. ā€œwhat do you want me to do? pretend iā€™m proud of the american like i donā€™t regret having him in my team?ā€ all you wanted to do in that moment was punch your father in the face. it was so not fair.
ā€œyouā€™re being childish.ā€ you pointed out.
he angrily looked over at you, as if you were in the wrong. as if he was the one who had to explain how you were wrong and why.
ā€œheā€™s not talented enough for f1, y/n.ā€ you were already angry, but when you heard your own father talk about the man you loved that way you completely lost it.
you could not care less about how loud you were being. maybe it wasnā€™t the most mature thing to do, but calling your father and imbecile felt pretty damn good.
ā€œhow the fuck is he supposed to deliver good results when he doesnā€™t have a clue about whatā€™s going on?ā€ you asked, honestly waiting for an answer before you started speaking again because the man in front of you was speechless. ā€œthe car isnā€™t good and the team isnā€™t good. youā€™re ruining it even more. he is talented and you know that, you just want to blame him for YOUR OWN mistakes.ā€
everything you had been holding in for some time, just because he was your father, was finally out. it should feel better than it did. you should feel way better than you did.
ā€œthatā€™s not true. and you should be ashamed of your little boyfriend for spreading things like this around.ā€
you couldnā€™t comprehend where this attitude came from. i guess you could really see how money changed people.
this was not the man you looked up to. this was not the father you wanted to be like when you were younger. and you had no problem of saying to his face that he had failed as a father.
ā€œif thereā€™s anything iā€™m ashamed of, is being your daughter.ā€ you heard him start to complain, but you're already out the door when a proper word came out of his mouth. you rushed outside, too tired to fake smiles to people around you.
you needed to find logan. that was the only thing in your head.
tears already filled your eyes when you started the car, and you couldn't see properly, because of them, the whole way.
but you never gave in, none of them fell from your eyes until you were at his door and he looked at you, worry stamped on his eyes.
"hey? baby?" his hands rushed to the side of your face to make you look at him.
you couldn't help but notice how selfless he was. that made your heart sink. the way he always worried about other people first, even when he is in the worst position possible.
"i hate you." you let out, in a cry, and let your arms circle his body, pulling him to yourself.
logan let go of your face to pull you inside, and closer to him. he was as confused as one could be. and the circumstances he was put in during the day did not help him.
"baby, please tell me what's going on." he asked once your grip over him loosened and he could look at your face again.
"my dad..." logan's heart skiped a beat. he knew the older vowles disliked him, but he never thought he could actually put himself between you and logan. he was desperate to know the rest now. "what he's doing to you, that's so not right. so not fair." you finished, and heard your boyfriend let out a relieved sigh.
he was actually happy that it was about the whole williams situation, and not your dad poisoning your mind.
"baby." the driver starts, but his face tells you he doesn't regret not telling you. that doesn't anger you, like you thought it would. it actually makes you fall in love with him a little more.
"you never said anything, you stupid american." he couldn't help a chuckle at the nickname and you punched him in the chest. he realized just how serious you were about this and guilt rose in his chest.
"i didn't want you to worry, y/n."
his blue eyes were a little darker because of the lighting but you could still see the pain in them.
formula one was his dream as a kid, as a teenager and as an adult. he fought like hell to get there, and even when things got tight, he never gave up. you knew all about the financial struggles that would've ended his dream if it wasn't for williams.
they noticed his talent and helped him get to better categories of the sport he loved so dearly. and the boy? he loved that team and was so thankfull for them that it actually hurt you. your father actually helped ruining his path at formula one and still, that boy stood loyal and helped the team and his teammate in everything. standing by their calls and decisions even when they jeopardized his races.
"logan, i should've known about this from the start." you knew you could've done something for him if you knew about the situation sooner. maybe if you had talked to your dad, bringing some sense into that old head of his. anything but let this circus keep going until it reached this point. "what they're doing to you... it's so unfair."
"but i can take it, love." he smiled softly at you and you almost felt the urge to punch him. how could he think so low of himself that he didn't see how much he didn't deserve that treatment.
"i know you can, the thing is you shouldn't have to. let alone go through it on your own." you said in a higher voice, capturing all his attention. "logan do you realize that you're not having fun racing? you said it yourself." tears were no longer falling out of your eyes, and the ones on your face were starting to disappear. "you have loved this sport ever since you were born, and they are ruining it for you."
"i know that." he almost screamed. he was quick to apologize with his eyes, but you couldn't care less about the tone he was using. you wanted him to be angry, you needed him to let everything out. "i hate it all, y/n. but it's my dream to be where i am today."
"i know, logan. and that's what makes me more upset. their ruining your dream and you're smiling through it, letting it happen."
"i'm not 'letting it happen'." he said, hesitating a little. "i'm just... maybe if i did things a little better, i would not be in this situation but i didn't. and i have to deal with it." your expression softened and you let out a sigh.
"it kills me that you think that this is your fault." he started tearing up and you pulled him to yourself. he hid his face in your neck and you gently stroked the back of his head. "it's not your fault, baby. you are doing amazing for someone with so many difficulties."
you took your time in each others arms, calming down while feeling the touch of the person you loved.
"i'm sorry that i never told you. but it's your dad and i needed you by my side." he pushed himself back to look you in the eye. "i don't know if i could do it without you."
you were still not over everything he had told you, and would definitely come back to the topic sooner, but right now what mattered most to you was that logan felt loved and appreciated.
he was already going through a lot, and it killed you to see the man you loved like that.
"you will never have to worry about that because i'm here, logan. and i love you, always."
with his face in your hands, you leaned closer and peck his lips. that's enough for him to remember everything he was fighting for. he had to fight for himself. and with you by his side, he believed it was possible.
"i love you too, always." he leaned his forhead against yours. "thank you."
478 notes Ā· View notes
cherry-leclerc Ā· 6 months ago
Text
star-crossed ā˜† mv1
genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut
word count: 9.1k
Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...penetrative sex, fingering
inspired by this !
cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)
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The table was long, practically going for miles, but not reallyā€”it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, whatā€™s that? The upcoming season. And youā€™ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick.Ā 
White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancĆ©ā€™s phone, connected to the Bluetooth.Ā 
Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesnā€™t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyoneā€™s heads turn. ā€œMerdeā€”finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!ā€ Crickets. His smile drops. ā€œI-Its me. Iā€™m the best man.ā€
ā€œMore like Best Party Killer. Sit down,ā€ Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head.Ā 
The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. ā€œComme je le disaisā€¦weā€™re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?ā€
ā€œWhy did you choose Pierre as your best man again?ā€ you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend.Ā 
ā€œAny more guesses?ā€
ā€œOkay, thank you!ā€ you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. ā€œThank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.ā€
The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. ā€œOui, oui, Iā€™m done, Iā€™m done.ā€ A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. ā€œI thought we could go around andā€¦share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. Iā€™ll start.ā€
ā€œGreat,ā€ Kika groans, massaging her temples.Ā 
ā€œSeptember 4, 2022.ā€
-
Circuit Zandvoortā€”September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)
ā€œYou said it would be warm!ā€
Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. ā€œI said slightly warm. More so cool.ā€ A harsh glare. She winces. ā€œYeah. Sorry about that.ā€
Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. Sheā€™s right, youā€™ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reasā€”
ā€œShould I just come back later orā€¦ā€
Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away.Ā 
And weā€™re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hissesā€”assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. ā€œMax Verstappen!ā€ The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. ā€œSo nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.ā€
Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. ā€œYeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.ā€
It wasnā€™t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry.Ā 
ā€œEveryone nowadays fears you, it seems like.ā€ He laughs, rolling his eyes. ā€œBut I do have one questionā€”how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?ā€
His smile slips away. ā€œSorry?ā€
ā€œUh-oh,ā€ Lissie mutters.
But you donā€™t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. ā€œWell you arenā€™t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?ā€
When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Letā€™s not air that last question, thank you.Ā 
Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. ā€œI still had a minute left!ā€
ā€œWhy would you say that?ā€ she screeches. ā€œWhy, why, why?ā€
You blink. ā€œIā€™m lost. What did I do wrong?ā€
The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. ā€œYou got on Max Verstappenā€™s bad side, thatā€™s what.ā€
-
ā€œTheir relationship had started ratherā€¦rocky,ā€ Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. ā€œBut donā€™t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.ā€
-
ā€œShe really said that?ā€Ā 
Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. ā€œSheā€™s new here, she must beā€”Iā€™ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?ā€
ā€œA legend, thatā€™s who,ā€ the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty.Ā 
Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. ā€œI donā€™t care if sheā€™s royalty, Iā€™m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.ā€
A few hours have now rolled by and youā€™ve finally realizedā€”you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, heā€™s just a strong driver. No one thinks heā€™s a villain, you think heā€™s a villain.Ā 
ā€œYou think heā€™s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?ā€
Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. ā€œNo. No. No. Maybe?ā€
Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. ā€œHello.ā€
ā€œOh! Hi!ā€
His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. ā€œIā€™m Pierreā€”ā€
ā€œI know who you are,ā€ you cut him off. ā€œItā€™s so nice to meet you. Iā€™mā€”ā€
ā€œNew?ā€
Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. ā€œYes?ā€
ā€œI thought so,ā€ he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. ā€œSoā€¦Iā€™m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasnā€™t meant to hurt his feelings?ā€
You soften up quickly. ā€œI hurt his feelings?ā€
A nose scrunch. ā€œLet me backtrack; Max doesnā€™t have feelings, therefore thereā€™s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.ā€ He lifts the frames. ā€œHe doesnā€™t like you.ā€
ā€œLovely,ā€ Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. ā€œIs there a wayā€¦weā€¦can fix all this misunderstanding? Because thatā€™s what this is! A misunderstanding!ā€
The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. ā€œThereā€™s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? Heā€™s very Old-Fashioned.ā€
ā€œOkay, yes.ā€ You scurry down the paddock. ā€œI could do that! I could so do that.ā€Ā 
ā€œOther way!ā€ he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.
You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. ā€œHeyā€”hi!ā€ Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. ā€œH-hello. Again.ā€
His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. ā€œYes?ā€
ā€œI just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorryā€¦please donā€™t demand for my release.ā€
A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. ā€œIā€™m not here to ruin your life, youā€™ve got nothing to worry about.ā€
You sigh in relief. ā€œGod. Thank you, thank you, thank you.ā€Ā 
Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. ā€œYouā€™re very welcome, but that doesnā€™t mean I like you.ā€
Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. ā€œSorry?ā€
ā€œYeah.ā€ He steps away. ā€œYou already said that.ā€
-
ā€œHe was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.ā€
ā€œIsnā€™t this supposed to make me look good?ā€ your fiancĆ© grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. ā€œYou know what? Just sit down.ā€
Pierre smirks. ā€œSee? Guarded.ā€
-
Autodromo Nazionale Monzaā€”September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)
ā€œIā€™m not a quitter.ā€
ā€œThere we go!ā€
ā€œBut he makes me want to quit.ā€ ā€œOh, well now weā€™re back to square one,ā€ Pierre groans. ā€œHeā€™s being hard headed, thatā€™s all. Iā€™ll talk to him again, donā€™t worry.ā€
And he does.Ā 
It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you werenā€™t wearing makeup.Ā 
ā€œYou lookā€”ā€
ā€œHideous?ā€ You blush. ā€œYeah, donā€™t even mention it.ā€
He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. ā€œI wanted to apologizeā€¦ for the way I reacted. It was immature.ā€
ā€œN-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and Iā€™m sorry.ā€
Max nods, Adamā€™s Apple dancing up, then down. ā€œTruce?ā€Ā 
Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. ā€œTruce.ā€
And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. ā€œPool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?ā€
With a cheesy look, you shrug. ā€œItā€™s one way to relieve stress.ā€
ā€œYeahā€”and whatā€™s another?ā€
His tone is sultry and irresistible, you canā€™t help but rip your gaze away. ā€œAnything that brings thrill, I suppose.ā€ A tick. ā€œWhatever that may be.ā€
ā€œAnd what if itā€™s something bad? Does that still count?ā€
You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchmanā€™s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. ā€œYouā€™re not a bad person, so yes.ā€
His tongue clicks. ā€œUh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?ā€
Groaning, you gently smack his chest. ā€œWill you ever let it go?ā€
ā€œMight take me a whileā€¦ā€
Just as youā€™re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. ā€œL-Lissie.ā€
Ā The blue eyed boy nods. ā€œAre you going to be interviewing me from now on?ā€
ā€œAhā€”is my ban lifted?ā€
ā€œYes.ā€
You roll your eyes. ā€œThen yes.ā€ Strolling past him, you wave. ā€œSee you around. And put on some sunscreen. Itā€™s good for you.ā€
-
ā€œWhere are you even going with any of this?ā€ Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. ā€œYouā€™ve just been talking about yourself, not them.ā€
Pierre scowls. ā€œIā€™m getting there!ā€ He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. ā€œSo, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problemsā€”your welcome, by the wayā€”a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.ā€
-
Marina Bay Street Circuitā€”October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)
ā€œNepo-Baby?ā€
You hum. ā€œThey all are.ā€
Lissie groans. ā€œSo how will I know which one?ā€
ā€œOh, youā€™ll know.ā€ Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. ā€œI have to go find Will. Something aboutā€”whatever, you probably donā€™t even care.ā€
You giggle. ā€œNope. Have fun.ā€
Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest.Ā 
ā€œDonā€™t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?ā€
ā€œDude, I was just falling asleepā€¦ā€ You peek an eye open. ā€œAnd yes. But it hasnā€™t started, so I'm clear.ā€
Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same.Ā 
ā€œHavenā€™t seen you around much.ā€
ā€œBeen hiding from you.ā€
ā€œSeems like. Donā€™t do that.ā€
ā€œFine.ā€ You grin, sitting up straight. ā€œShouldnā€™t you be getting ready?ā€
ā€œProbably.ā€
You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he canā€™t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. ā€œCā€™mon. Iā€™ll walk you.ā€
ā€œ...and I turned and said, isnā€™t that Celine Dion?ā€ Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. ā€œTurns out I was just really freaking high.ā€ Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. ā€œYā€™know, sometimes I wonder if it wasā€”ā€ A sharp gasp. ā€œHim? Oh myā€”itā€™s him!ā€
ā€œDonā€™t you mean her?ā€ Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.
But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down.Ā 
ā€œR-rightā€”her.ā€
-
AutĆ³dromo JosĆ© Carlos Paceā€”November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)
ā€œIs he cute? Yeah, maybe.ā€ A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. ā€œIn a weird way.ā€
ā€œHey,ā€ you warn.
ā€œIs he your type? Donā€™t know why, but yes. I could see why youā€™re into him.ā€
ā€œGreatā€¦ā€
ā€œBut is he the right choice? No. Not at all.ā€
ā€œ...and fantastic.ā€ Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasnā€™t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. Itā€™s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. ā€œDonā€™t you think youā€™re being a bit too harsh?ā€
ā€œOh no.ā€ A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. ā€œGod no.ā€ You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesnā€™t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. ā€œHeā€™s just soā€”and youā€™re just soā€”ā€ A beat. ā€œIā€™m just looking out for you.ā€
ā€œYeah.ā€ Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. ā€œYeah, I know.ā€
-
ā€œAnd for a while, that was that,ā€ Pierre announces, feigning indifference. ā€œNo more love birds.ā€
ā€œOh,ā€ George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. ā€œThen why are we here?ā€
ā€œOh God,ā€ you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. ā€œWhat if we just elope?ā€
He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. ā€œWe always can. Is that what you want?ā€ And he asks because he knowsā€”no. Thatā€™s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. ā€œNo. Thatā€™s not what I want.ā€Ā 
ā€œGood.ā€ Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. ā€œBecause I think this is actually going somewhere.ā€
-
Bahrain International Circuitā€”-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)
So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasnā€™t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.
ā€œHeads or tails?ā€
ā€œTails.ā€
A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. ā€œHeads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.ā€
ā€œYouā€™re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.ā€
ā€œUntil I can feel my teeth rot,ā€ you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites.Ā 
Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. Itā€™s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches.Ā 
Max tilts his head in greeting. ā€œWorking hard already?ā€ Your lips part. ā€œThe seasonā€™s barely begun.ā€
And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose.Ā 
-
ā€œAs your best friendā€”ā€ Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancĆ©ā€™s lap. She claps. ā€œI knew straight awayā€”he was the one for you.ā€
-
Miami International Autodromeā€”-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)
ā€œHow long has this been going on for?ā€ she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair.Ā 
With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. ā€œA weekā€”ā€
ā€œNo.ā€
ā€œWell, twoā€”ā€
Green paints her face. ā€œNo.ā€
ā€œOne month,ā€ he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. ā€œItā€™s been a month. Ever sinceā€”ā€
ā€œAzerbaijan.ā€ Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. ā€œEw, gross,ā€ Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. ā€œWhat the fuck are you doing?ā€
Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. ā€œBegging for forgiveness?ā€
ā€œOh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.ā€
You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. ā€œLissie, wait!ā€
Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. ā€œYou two know this isnā€™t a good idea, right?ā€
ā€œYesā€”ā€
ā€œFor a million different reasonsā€”ā€
ā€œI-Iā€™m aware,ā€ you stutter.Ā 
ā€œThen why did you do it?ā€ she whispers.Ā 
And the truth is, you donā€™t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. Itā€™s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago.Ā 
Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. ā€œThatā€™s it. Weā€™re done.ā€ You turn to the RedBull driver. ā€œTell her.ā€
ā€œDone.ā€
For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy heā€™s able to say that one word. Lissieā€™s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then sheā€™s focused, appalled.Ā 
ā€œAre those your panties?ā€
-
ā€œYou were like a dog who couldnā€™t bear the idea of leaving its bone.ā€ Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. ā€œAnd I knowā€”I knowā€”I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, theyā€™re scumbagsā€”ā€Ā 
ā€œEy. Watch it,ā€ Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring.Ā 
She shrugs. ā€œBut I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister soā€¦ā€ Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. ā€œIā€™m just so happy that youā€™re happy.ā€ A pause. ā€œThat you're both happy.ā€
Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. ā€œI love you,ā€ you start. I know. ā€œAnd Iā€™m so happy that you neverā€”ā€
A knowing smile. ā€œIā€™d do anything for you.ā€Ā 
-
Circuit de Monacoā€”May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)
Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of thisā€” the cramped room, his lips attacking your neckā€”makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him.Ā 
ā€œWe s-shouldnā€™t.ā€ You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you donā€™t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he canā€™t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm.Ā 
ā€œYouā€™re probably right.ā€ A steady stroke. ā€œYou should be out there.ā€ His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. ā€œPreparing those foolish questions.ā€ A muffled moan. ā€œBut youā€™re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.ā€
Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. ā€œYouā€™ve been a bit uptight. Could it beā€”ā€
ā€œNo,ā€ you cut him off. ā€œDonā€™t even try and blame it onā€”ā€
ā€œFine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?ā€Ā 
Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. ā€œMaybe, but who cares?ā€
Youā€™re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. Itā€™s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince.Ā 
Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissieā€™s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like sheā€™s reading right through you and your lies.
Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. ā€œWhoā€™s ready?ā€
-
ā€œFinally,ā€ Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. ā€œSomeone with an actual story to tell.ā€ A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass ofā€”
ā€œVodka, baby! That was my vodkaā€”your champagne is right there.ā€
Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. ā€œWhat yours is mine, no? Isnā€™t that what marriage is all about?ā€
He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. ā€œKeep this up and youā€™re not going to be able to sleep later.ā€
ā€œThe opposite, actually,ā€ you state as a matter-of-fact. ā€œJust need to get blackout drunk.ā€
He cocks his head to the side. ā€œThatā€™s not like you.ā€ ā€œ...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!ā€ the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. ā€œI found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they sayā€”only drunks and children tell the truth.ā€
-
Red Bull Ringā€”July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)
ā€œOui, the beer! Fucking amazing,ā€ Pierre declares with a mouthful.Ā 
ā€œSay it, donā€™t spray it,ā€ someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you werenā€™t a nasty drunk.
The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. ā€œI read your article.ā€
ā€œYeah?ā€
He nods. ā€œHave to admit, it's kind of boring. Itā€™s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort ofā€¦ā€ He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter.Ā 
ā€œYour time will come, Pierre, your time will come.ā€
ā€œShit, shit, shit! Bathroom!ā€ Lissieā€™s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her.Ā 
ā€œCrapā€”you smell like shit.ā€
The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. ā€œI smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I donā€™t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.ā€
A nose scrunch. ā€œThatā€™s not very lady-like.ā€ She paces some more. ā€œLetā€™s go.ā€
Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes.Ā 
ā€œYou should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.ā€
ā€œWhat? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?ā€
Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. ā€œDilation.ā€
The Dutchman gags. ā€œWhatā€¦like when a woman gives birth?ā€
A sore laugh. ā€œAs in your eyes.ā€ Another hit. ā€œYā€™knowā€¦they just lookā€”different. When you look at her, I mean.ā€
And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, heā€™s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, butā€¦
He licks his sudden dry lips. ā€œHm. Doesnā€™t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, sheā€™s not my type.ā€
The Australian frowns. ā€œSucks. Lissieā€™s really cool.ā€ His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. ā€œOh shit, noā€¦ā€
In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. ā€œYouā€™re right, she is so coolā€”ā€
Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. ā€œRight, but weā€™re not talking about Lissieā€¦ā€ A wince. ā€œMate, you canā€™tā€¦you know you canā€™t.ā€
And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. ā€œYeah. Of course.ā€ He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. ā€œI know that. I-I-I was never going toā€”yeah.ā€Ā 
-
ā€œHeā€”ā€ Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. ā€œ...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.ā€ A whistle. ā€œAnd if that isnā€™t love, then I donā€™t know what is.ā€
ā€œWow, congrats,ā€ George says to your fiancĆ©. ā€œFor not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.ā€ You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you canā€™t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder.Ā 
ā€œThatā€™s why I drank twice as much that day,ā€ Pierre announces with a firm voice. ā€œBecause he was missing out on some fantastic beer.ā€
ā€œDrunkard,ā€ Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker.Ā 
The tall Australian clicks his tongue. ā€œSo who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?ā€
Everyoneā€™s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.
ā€œWhat the fuck, I barely even drink!ā€
-
Red Bull Ringā€”July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)
ā€œYou.ā€
ā€œMe?ā€
You snarl, stomping over. ā€œShe's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.ā€
Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. ā€œShe kept insisting! I felt bad.ā€
An eye roll. ā€œDouche.ā€
He tries to make it up to you with a drink. ā€œPierre says theyā€™re good.ā€ You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. ā€œCome on, trust me.ā€ He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt.Ā 
ā€œDid you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?ā€
ā€œOh no. How many did you drink?ā€
Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he canā€™t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. ā€œI donā€™t know. Too many.ā€ He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. ā€œHe told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?ā€ Another sip. ā€œI told him I love him too.ā€
The Australian chuckles. ā€œI didnā€™t expect you to fall for someone like him.ā€
ā€œMe either. But I fellā€”tumbled.ā€ You frown. ā€œIā€™m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, yā€™know?ā€
His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. ā€œWhy not?ā€
ā€œBecause everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.ā€ A shaky laugh. ā€œAnd something that should feel fucking right, doesnā€™t.ā€ Glossy eyes switch over to him. ā€œDoes that make sense?ā€
ā€œNot really.ā€Ā 
ā€œGreat,ā€ you let out, wiping your tears away. ā€œItā€™s fine, I didnā€™t expect you to understand.ā€
Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. ā€œIt doesnā€™t, and you want to know why?ā€
ā€œWhy?ā€
A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. ā€œBecause it looks like you reallyā€”reallyā€”like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.ā€
You scoff, furrowing your brows. ā€œYouā€™re a bad influence.ā€
ā€œWhy?ā€
ā€œBecause it would never work out.ā€
ā€œAnd why not? Youā€™re giving up too easā€”oh.ā€ Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. ā€œYou canā€™tā€¦ā€
ā€œYeah. I know.ā€ A pause. ā€œBeerā€™s ass, by the way.ā€
-
Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. ā€œYou two, it works. It always has.ā€
-
Circuit Zandvoortā€”August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)
ā€œOh fuck,ā€ he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. ā€œH-holy fuckingā€”hell.ā€
You moan, mouth hung wide open. ā€œFeel so good, Maxie, so, so good.ā€
Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. Itā€™s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment.Ā 
He furrows his dark brows. ā€œWe-Weā€™re not made for one another.ā€
ā€œI know.ā€ He grunts, animalistically. ā€œThey warned me about you.ā€
ā€œThey told me to stay away from you.ā€ His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. ā€œBut God, itā€™s been impossible.ā€Ā 
ā€œMax, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckā€”Iā€™m close.ā€
He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves.Ā 
ā€œLissieā€¦Danielā€¦theyā€™reā€”ā€
ā€œRight?ā€ You choke up. ā€œYeah, you donā€™t know how much I hate that they are.ā€
He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almostā€”nearly. And youā€™re sure yours do too.Ā 
Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. ā€œSo do I.ā€ A tug. ā€œI love you. Y-you werenā€™t some fuck buddy to meā€¦youā€™ve always been more than that. Andā€¦I hate that too.ā€
A wet laugh. ā€œI love you, too.ā€ Wobbly smile. ā€œAnd itā€™s because I love you that I know what comes after this.ā€
He hums. ā€œWhat would that be?ā€
ā€œNothing.ā€
-
ā€œI know many of you guys are wondering why Iā€™m best manā€”ā€
ā€œNot wondering, more like questioning,ā€ Carlos quips with a sly smirk.
Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. ā€œBecause it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.ā€ The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look.Ā 
ā€œThen again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?ā€
-
Circuit Zandvoortā€”September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)
"You got on Max Verstappenā€™s bad side, thatā€™s what."
ā€œItā€™s probably nothing or heā€™s just a sensitive little pussy,ā€ you shoot back defensively.Ā 
Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. ā€œYou canā€™t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,ā€ she adds. ā€œJustā€¦think before saying anything.ā€
You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. ā€œFine.ā€
As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.
Or so you thought.
ā€œBefore I let you go, I do have one more question.ā€ Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. ā€œWould you consider yourself Ferrariā€™s savior or their scapegoat?ā€
ā€œJesus,ā€ the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment.Ā 
The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. ā€œI-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for yourā€¦questions.ā€ Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.
ā€œAlrighty then,ā€ Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. ā€œJitters, totally normal, but yeah, youā€™re done for today.ā€
-
ā€œI donā€™t care if sheā€™s royalty, Iā€™m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.ā€
ā€œWould you look at that?ā€ Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. ā€œMax Verstappen got butthurt.ā€
The Dutchman scoffs. ā€œNo, I did not. I just donā€™t like stupid questions, and she made one.ā€
Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. ā€œI could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.ā€
ā€œI donā€™t.ā€
ā€œWell too bad, Iā€™m going to.ā€
-
ā€œYeah. You already said that.ā€
Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldnā€™t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance.Ā 
ā€œHey!ā€
He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. ā€œHey.ā€
A wince. ā€œIā€™m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didnā€™t mean to make you uncomfortable.ā€Ā 
Charles blushes. ā€œAm I that easy to read?ā€
ā€œNo, but Pierre let me know.ā€ You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. ā€œI sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.ā€
He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. ā€œIā€™m not pissed.ā€ You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. ā€œYou just caught me off guard, thatā€™s all. Plus, I canā€™t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.ā€
ā€œOh. Duh. Of course.ā€ Now you burn up. ā€œI should have known. And itā€™s no excuse, but Iā€™m new and Iā€™m justā€¦figuring it out.ā€
His eyes crinkle as he nods. ā€œWho was the other driver?ā€
You groan. ā€œMax.ā€
He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. ā€œYikes. Yeah, now heā€™s probably pissed.ā€
-
Autodromo Nazionale Monzaā€”September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)
Ā ā€œWill you ever let it go?ā€
ā€œMight take me a whileā€¦ā€
As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. ā€œL-Lissie,ā€ you fill in with a subtle smile. ā€œSee you around. And put on some sunscreen. Itā€™s good for you.ā€
Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. ā€œA little Vitamin D is always necessary.ā€
ā€œDonā€™t care, I donā€™t want to look like a peanut in two years.ā€ You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.
Charles extends his hands. ā€œCan I have some more?ā€
You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. ā€œHypocrite.ā€Ā 
Green eyes glare down, playfully.
-
Marina Bay Street Circuitā€”October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)
ā€œI canā€™t believe someoneā€™s rocking your boat,ā€ Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. ā€œThis is monumental.ā€ A teasing giggle. ā€œWe should definitely document this.ā€
As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. ā€œAnd this, my dear, dear friend, is why Iā€™ve been keeping this a secret.ā€ She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. ā€œQuit!ā€
The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. ā€œCan I guess who it is?ā€
ā€œNo.ā€
ā€œItā€™ll be fun!ā€
You spin around. ā€œNo, Lissieā€”no.ā€
ā€œNepo-Baby?ā€
Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. ā€œThey all are.ā€
ā€œFucking hell. So how will I know which one?ā€
A mocking laugh. ā€œOh, youā€™ll know.ā€
The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but theyā€™re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess thatā€”
ā€œOh myā€”itā€™s him!ā€ She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. ā€œI, um, will be right back!ā€
Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. ā€œHow did I not notice? I mean, shit, youā€™re eyesā€”theyā€™re huge!ā€
You frown. ā€œWhatā€™s that supposed to mean?ā€
With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. ā€œIt means I know who it is.ā€
Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. ā€œWeā€™re just getting to know each other, but heā€™s really kind, and Iā€¦I really like him.ā€
ā€œOh, I bet you do,ā€ she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. ā€œYou get lost in his eyes, donā€™t you? Heard that could happen.ā€ A swoon. ā€œSo what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?ā€
ā€œHm. No. More like green apple.ā€
She halts, mid-shimmy. ā€œWhat do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would knowā€”they scare me half of the time.ā€
ā€œWhat are you talking about? Charlesā€™ eyes are green.ā€ The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but canā€™t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. ā€œI told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.ā€
-
AutĆ³dromo JosĆ© Carlos Paceā€”November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)
ā€œIā€™m just looking out for you.ā€
ā€œYeah, I know.ā€ Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles.Ā 
She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. ā€œItā€™s okay to be confused about your feelings.ā€
ā€œYou donā€™t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.ā€ You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. ā€œBut theyā€™re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. Itā€™s nauseating. Heā€™s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but itā€™s endearing.ā€ A soft smile and dreamy eyes. ā€œHe even helps with my notes.ā€
ā€œBut Maxā€¦heā€™s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isnā€™t like him to show me that heā€™s interested in getting to know me, butā€¦ā€ Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. ā€œI want to get to know him. The real him.ā€
Lissieā€™s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all.Ā 
She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. ā€œYouā€™ll know what to do, babe. But if weā€™re being realistic here, Charles wonā€™t wait forever.ā€ Pause. ā€œAnd Max isnā€™t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.ā€
-
Bahrain International Circuitā€”March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)
ā€œHeads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.ā€
Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces.Ā 
ā€œWorking hard already? The seasonā€™s barely begun.ā€ Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you havenā€™t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. ā€œH-how was your summer break?ā€
Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. Itā€™s embarrassing. ā€œNever bad to get ahead, and Iā€”had a good one. Much needed.ā€ He nods attentively. ā€œYou lookā€”ā€ You stop before admitting. ā€œHealthy. You look really healthyā€
A booming chuckle. ā€œThanks. You look really healthy, too.ā€
Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. ā€œWhy are you here?ā€ Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. ā€œI meanā€”here.ā€ You point at the tiny tent as if it werenā€™t obvious what you were referring to. ā€œHere, here.ā€
The Dutchmanā€™s lips dance, fondly. ā€œWell I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.ā€ He looks around with a subtle frown. ā€œIs now a bad time?ā€
ā€œWellā€”ā€
ā€œMate,ā€ a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. ā€œHow have you been?ā€
ā€œSo, so. Yourself?ā€
ā€œGood. Refreshed.ā€Ā 
ā€œFor me?ā€ he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. ā€œLazy Carlos, always sending you, right?ā€
The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. ā€œThank you, Charles.ā€
His smile widens, pecking your lips. ā€œStill donā€™t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, youā€™re welcome.ā€
Max blinks. ā€œW-when did this happen?ā€
The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. ā€œOver break.ā€
ā€œOh.ā€ Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. ā€œYou spent it in Monaco?ā€
A harsh tick. ā€œYes.ā€ With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. ā€œDo you want to start making your way over? I donā€™t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.ā€
Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. ā€œSee you on track?ā€
The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesnā€™t notice it, you do. Of course you do.
ā€œSee you on track.ā€
-
Miami International Autodromeā€”May 7, 2023
ā€œThen why did you do it?ā€ she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. ā€œYou canā€™t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.ā€ Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. ā€œHe adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?ā€
Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. ā€œLissieā€”ā€
ā€œNo. Justā€”stop. Stop talking.ā€ Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. ā€œHow could you do this, too?ā€
ā€œI never meant any harmā€”ā€
ā€œBullshit! Both of you are so stupid, itā€™s worrisome.ā€ Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. ā€œYou have to tell him.ā€
ā€œNo.ā€
ā€œWhat do you mean no? He deserves to know.ā€
Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. ā€œItā€™s going to kill him, Lissie. I canā€™t do that.ā€
And you can tell sheā€™s running through her options because sheā€™s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. ā€œThis has to end.ā€
You nod, desperately. ā€œThatā€™s it. Weā€™re done.ā€
-
Circuit de Monacoā€”May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)
ā€œYouā€™ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles thatā€™s making you feel that way?ā€
ā€œNo. Donā€™t even try and blame it on him.ā€
He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. ā€œYouā€™re not getting anything in return for lying. Itā€™s pathetic.ā€
You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. ā€œWhat's the lie?ā€
ā€œThat you love him.ā€
ā€œI do love himā€”ā€
He groans into your neck. ā€œYou sound so pretty.ā€ A sloppy thrust. ā€œWhen you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.ā€ Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. ā€œAdmit it, youā€™ve always enjoyed it.ā€
ā€œYouā€™re sick."
ā€œMaybe, but youā€™re well worth it.ā€Ā 
You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesnā€™t matter. ā€œYouā€™re a shitty friendā€”ā€
Jaw clenches. ā€œYouā€™re a shitty girlfriend.ā€ When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. ā€œFine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?ā€Ā 
ā€œMaybe, but who cares?ā€Ā 
And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more.Ā 
-
Red Bull Ringā€”July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)
ā€œRight, but weā€™re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you canā€™tā€¦you know you canā€™t.ā€ Daniel grimaces. ā€œSheā€™s taken.ā€
ā€œI know,ā€ Max stutters. ā€œWho do you take me for?ā€
The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. ā€œYou think sheā€™s prettyā€”thatā€™s all.ā€
ā€œThatā€™s all,ā€ he confirms.Ā 
ā€œAnd thatā€™s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,ā€ the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily.Ā 
ā€œExactly.ā€ A pause. ā€œYou get it.ā€
Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. ā€œY-yeahā€¦because itā€™d be bad if you liked her, liked her.ā€Ā 
ā€œI know that. I-I-I was never going toā€”yeah.ā€ His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charlesā€™s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh.Ā 
ā€œI wouldnā€™t be that stupid.ā€
-
ā€œYouā€™re a bad influence.ā€
ā€œWhy?ā€
ā€œBecause it would never work out.ā€
ā€œAnd why not? Youā€™re giving up too easā€”oh.ā€ In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because itā€™s not Charles that youā€™ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. ā€œYou canā€™tā€¦ā€ Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. ā€œYou canā€™t do that to Charles. He loves you.ā€
ā€œAnd I love him,ā€ you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. ā€œIā€™m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.ā€ A sore chuckle. ā€œW-what matters is that I choose Charles. Heā€™s the love of my life.ā€
And Daniel knows he probably shouldnā€™t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. ā€œJust between us.ā€
You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside.Ā 
Ā ā€œBeerā€™s ass, by the way.ā€
-
Circuit Zandvoortā€”August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)
Ā ā€œI love you. Y-you werenā€™t some fuck buddy to meā€¦youā€™ve always been more than that. Andā€¦I hate that too.ā€
ā€œI love you, too. And itā€™s because I love you that I know what comes after this.ā€
ā€œWhat would that be?ā€
ā€œNothing.ā€
He flinches. ā€œI-it doesnā€™t have to be that way. You could leaā€”ā€
You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. ā€œI canā€™t leave him, Max. Itā€™s not that easy.ā€
He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. ā€œA-and why not? Why canā€™t it be that easy?ā€
A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. ā€œBecause Iā€™m engaged!ā€
He ricochets with a scoff. ā€œOh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?ā€ You look away and he chuckles. ā€œBecause thatā€™s what you areā€”a fucking cheater.ā€
Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. ā€œAnd what does that make you?ā€
ā€œI am not a cheater.ā€
You snarl. ā€œNo, but youā€™re a God awful friend.ā€
He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. ā€œYouā€™re justā€”you know what? Fuck you.ā€
You gasp. ā€œNo. Fuck you.ā€
Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. ā€œYouā€™re scared, arenā€™t you? Of realizing what we actually are.ā€
Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. ā€œWhat are we? A cheater and a bad friend?ā€
ā€œNo. A villain and their accomplice.ā€ That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesnā€™t hurt, itā€™s not tight. Itā€™s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. ā€œYou know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.ā€
ā€œOkay, stopā€”ā€
ā€œAnd Iā€™m not innocent eitherā€”Iā€™m well awareā€”but Iā€™m not the one with a ring around their finger.ā€
ā€œStop!ā€ you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but thatā€™s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. ā€œYouā€™re right. Weā€™re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? Youā€™re fucking with my head, Max!ā€
He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. ā€œYou already know Iā€™m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.ā€
ā€œMaxā€¦ā€
He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. Itā€™s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time.Ā 
ā€œBe honest with me, please.ā€ Bloodshot eyes look up at him. ā€œIs he your safest option? Is that what this is?ā€
And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out.Ā 
ā€œHeā€™s someone I could envision a future with, Max.ā€ A beat. ā€œAnd youā€™re just a footnote.ā€
-
ā€œVoilĆ”!ā€ Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. ā€œThat was beautiful, really, it really was.ā€
Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. ā€œI had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.ā€
The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you theyā€™d like it! Your fiancĆ© kisses your cheek. ā€œThatā€™s why I chose him.ā€ A playful frown. ā€œYou see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.ā€
Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. ā€œI still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.ā€ A stern look. ā€œLike Lorenzoā€”wasnā€™t he the one that helped you buy the ring?ā€
ā€œYes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He wouldā€™ve felt left out.ā€
ā€œArthurā€™s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!ā€ The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. ā€œI loā€”ā€
ā€œWait,ā€ Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. ā€œWe all went around sharing but Max.ā€
ā€œYeah,ā€ Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. ā€œYeah, youā€™re right.ā€
Pierre hums. ā€œMate?ā€
Max blinks, shaking his head. ā€œAh, itā€™s alright. Weā€™ve heard enough, donā€™t you think?ā€ His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.
Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.
Because Daniel was Maxā€™s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.
But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.
ā€œOkay then,ā€ he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. ā€œIā€¦ā€
ā€œHe doesnā€™t want to,ā€ you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. ā€œIf he doesnā€™t want to, then he doesnā€™t have to say anything, itā€™s fine.ā€
ā€œNo.ā€ Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. ā€œI want yā€”ā€ He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. ā€œI want to.ā€
ā€œLet him,ā€ Charles says, chuckling softly. ā€œDonā€™t kill his stride.ā€
So, with neat brows drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder.Ā 
ā€œI think itā€™s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.ā€Ā 
ā€œOh shit,ā€ Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth.Ā 
Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. ā€œIf youā€™re not going to say anything nice, then donā€™t say anything at all.ā€
ā€œYou donā€™t even know what Iā€™m going to say,ā€ he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back.Ā 
ā€œIf you hadnā€™t taken Pierreā€™s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadnā€™t spent summer break with him, then we wouldnā€™t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldnā€™t be here.ā€ He swallows. ā€œItā€™s the little things.ā€
ā€œAnd, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesnā€™t then it wonā€™t ever work out, but you twoā€¦ā€ You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. ā€œYou two chose each other, soā€¦cheers to that.ā€
ā€œWow,ā€ Charles hums, blankly. ā€œThat was surprisingly heartfeltā€¦ā€ A sheepish grin. ā€œThank you, mate.ā€
Itā€™s as if heā€™s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didnā€™t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. ā€œDonā€™t mention it.ā€Ā 
So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybeā€”just maybeā€”you were right all along.Ā 
He gave his speech last.
He was the footnote.
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theonottsbxtch Ā· 10 days ago
Text
I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43
an: guys iā€™m so sorry for the atrocities iā€™m about to cause by posting this, iā€™m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they donā€™t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this
summary: for as long as sheā€™s remembered sheā€™s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesnā€™t know.
wc: 4.4k
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She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fastā€”kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didnā€™t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.
She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself thatā€™s just what friends didā€”waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. Sheā€™d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasnā€™t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.
Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what sheā€™d always knownā€”that Franco was going somewhere.
Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldnā€™t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasnā€™t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream heā€™d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.
But he didnā€™t.
Instead, Franco saw everything she wasnā€™t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies heā€™d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didnā€™t even seem real.
It was this girlā€”her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let itā€”who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that heā€™d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasnā€™t, but what good would it do?
It was easy to tell herself she was Francoā€™s friend. His best friend. The one whoā€™d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. Sheā€™d learned to wear it like armourā€”the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.
No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.
The nights she couldnā€™t sleep, sheā€™d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film sheā€™d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person sheā€™d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasnā€™t hers. Not really.
Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and sheā€™d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadnā€™t seen since they were kids. Heā€™d been invited to join a Formula 1 teamā€”a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.
And sheā€™d been the first person he told. ā€œIā€™m in,ā€ Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. ā€œIā€™m actually in.ā€
Heā€™d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her tooā€”that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.
And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road theyā€™d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.
ā€œSoā€¦ this is it, huh?ā€ she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything sheā€™d left unsaid.
Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin sheā€™d fallen in love with a thousand times. ā€œYeah. This is it.ā€
There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didnā€™t, couldnā€™t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And thatā€™s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.
ā€œYouā€™ll be amazing out there,ā€ she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.
ā€œThanks,ā€ Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didnā€™t see her watching him, didnā€™t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Because thatā€™s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.
His first race was in Monza.
And Franco had made sure sheā€™d be there.
The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Francoā€™s first Formula 1 race, the one heā€™d been chasing since the days theyā€™d spent on that dusty street back home. Heā€™d called her a week ago, saying heā€™d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldnā€™t feel right without her.
She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if sheā€™d see him. But instead, she saw herā€”Francoā€™s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.
She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as sheā€™d always done. But then Francoā€™s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.
ā€œHi! Youā€™re Francoā€™s best friend, no?ā€ she said brightly, as if sheā€™d been waiting for this meeting. ā€œFrancoā€™s told me all about you.ā€
She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. ā€œNice to meet you,ā€ she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfectā€”too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girlā€™s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasnā€™t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.
ā€œYou know,ā€ she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. ā€œFranco always talks about how youā€™ve been there from the start. He says he wouldnā€™t be here without you.ā€
It was a sentiment sheā€™d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. ā€œHeā€™s worked so hard for this. I justā€¦ wanted to support him however I could.ā€
The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. ā€œThatā€™s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone whoā€™s known him for so long.ā€ She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. ā€œI think heā€™s planning to introduce me to his family soon.ā€
A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. ā€œThatā€™s great,ā€ she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. ā€œThat sounds really important to him.ā€
The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. ā€œYeahā€¦ he said he wanted to wait until weā€™d been together for a year. Heā€™s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.ā€ She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. ā€œI think he got that from youā€”from seeing how much his family means to you.ā€
It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldnā€™t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was justā€¦ nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.
ā€œWell, his family will love you,ā€ she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. ā€œHe deserves to be happy.ā€
The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knewā€”if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.
As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. ā€œThank you,ā€ she said, her voice warm. ā€œFor being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell heā€™s lucky to have you in his life.ā€
She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was trueā€”but not in the way sheā€™d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.
And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stoodā€”at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.
The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. Sheā€™d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.
The evening had been a whirlwindā€”Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way sheā€™d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. Sheā€™d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.
A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.
ā€œHey,ā€ he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. ā€œI was hoping youā€™d still be up.ā€
ā€œYeah, justā€¦ packing,ā€ she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. ā€œIā€™ve got an early flight back.ā€
He frowned, like he hadnā€™t expected her to be leaving so soon. ā€œI thought youā€™d stay a bit longer,ā€ he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. ā€œIt meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. Iā€™m not sure I could have done it without you.ā€
She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. ā€œIā€™m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.ā€
He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. ā€œItā€™s crazy, right? Like, it still doesnā€™t feel real.ā€
She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.
ā€œOhā€”and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, Iā€™m planning to bring my girlfriendā€”ā€ he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared roomā€”ā€œback to Argentina. Sheā€™s going to meet my family. I think theyā€™ll love her.ā€
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldnā€™t hold it in any longer.
ā€œWhy her?ā€ she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. ā€œWhat do you mean?ā€
ā€œWhy her, Franco?ā€ She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. ā€œWhy not me? What is it about me that you donā€™t find appealing? Am I too loud? Tooā€¦ different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?ā€ Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. ā€œWhat is it about me that you donā€™t love, that you love about her?ā€
For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.
ā€œWaitā€”ā€ he started, his voice halting, uncertain. ā€œIā€¦ I didnā€™t know you feltā€”ā€
She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. ā€œI loved you first, Franco.ā€
He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.
ā€œWhat?ā€ he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.
ā€œI loved you first,ā€ she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didnā€™t want to cry, not now, not here. ā€œSince we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. Iā€™ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.ā€
She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love sheā€™d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.
He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. ā€œButā€¦ I love her.ā€
The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope sheā€™d held on to.
She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. ā€œI know,ā€ she whispered. ā€œI know you do.ā€ She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldnā€™t contain. ā€œBut it doesnā€™t make it hurt any less.ā€
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could sayā€”nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasnā€™t her.
ā€œI never meant toā€¦ I didnā€™t want to hurt you,ā€ he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.
ļæ½ļæ½ļæ½Itā€™s fine,ā€ she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. ā€œIā€¦ I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that Iā€™ve always been here. But nowā€¦ā€ She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words sheā€™d held for so long finally running dry.
She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.
When she noticed he still hadnā€™t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. ā€œI hope she makes you happy, Franco,ā€ she whispered, her voice barely a breath. ā€œReally. I hope she gives you everything youā€™ve ever dreamed of.ā€
She looked back down not wanting to catch Francoā€™s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.
Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.
It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldnā€™t quite decipher.
ā€œI almost forgot to mention,ā€ her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, ā€œFrancoā€™s coming back to town soon. Said heā€™ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.ā€
She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadnā€™t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since sheā€™d finally let herself say all the things sheā€™d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like sheā€™d left a part of herself behind.
ā€œOh,ā€ she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. ā€œThatā€™sā€¦ thatā€™s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.ā€
Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughterā€™s casual words. ā€œI thought maybe youā€™d be excited too,ā€ her mother ventured, her voice gentle. ā€œItā€™s been a long time since youā€™ve seen him.ā€
She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. ā€œActually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with TĆ­a Blanca. Iā€™ve been meaning to go see her.ā€
Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. ā€œYou canā€™t keep running from this, mi amor,ā€ she said, her voice tender but firm.
Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didnā€™t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasnā€™t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything sheā€™d been trying so hard to let go of.
ā€œI know I canā€™t keep running,ā€ she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. ā€œBut I can now. And I can cope with that.ā€
Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. ā€œMi amor, one day, youā€™re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. Itā€™s the only way to truly move forward.ā€
She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her motherā€™s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Francoā€™s wordsā€”But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.
ā€œMaybe one day,ā€ she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to beā€”far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.
Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. ā€œThen go,ā€ she said, with a small, knowing smile. ā€œBut youā€™ll know when itā€™s time to come home.ā€
And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldnā€™t say, she only hoped her mother was right.
A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her auntā€™s place.
She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted itā€”Francoā€™s car, parked at the edge of the drive.
Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, ā€œNo, no, noā€¦ please, not now.ā€ She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.
ā€œOye, there you are!ā€ he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadnā€™t heard from him in years. ā€œI was hoping Iā€™d run into you before you left. Itā€™s been too long.ā€
She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. ā€œYeah, well, Iā€™ve got to get on the road. Donā€™t want to get stuck in traffic,ā€ she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasksā€”closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.
He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. ā€œIā€™ve missed you,ā€ he said, his tone softening. ā€œYouā€¦ you didnā€™t answer my calls after Monza. I didnā€™t know ifā€¦ I just wanted to see you.ā€
She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. ā€œThatā€™s great, Franco,ā€ she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. ā€œBut I really should get going.ā€
ā€œWaitā€”ā€ He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. ā€œCan we talk? Please?ā€
But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldnā€™t bear to stay, couldnā€™t bear to let him see her break again. ā€œTake care, Franco,ā€ she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.
Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.
But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of himā€”their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.
Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images sheā€™d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams theyā€™d both carried.
She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where theyā€™d been inseparable, a past where she hadnā€™t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy sheā€™d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.
By the time she reached her auntā€™s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the cityā€™s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.
Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.
ā€œĀ”Mira! Is that really you?ā€
She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she rememberedā€”warm and solid.
ā€œAngelo!ā€ She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.
He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. ā€œLet me help. Youā€™re here for a visit?ā€
ā€œJust two weeks,ā€ she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain sheā€™d left behind.
ā€œWell, then,ā€ he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, ā€œweā€™ve got time to catch up.ā€ His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.
She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her auntā€™s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.
The door opened before they could knock, her auntā€™s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. ā€œThere you are, mi niƱa!ā€ She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. ā€œAnd look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, youā€™re a sweetheart.ā€
He grinned, shrugging. ā€œAnything for your family, seƱora.ā€
They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if sheā€™d left more than just a town behindā€”sheā€™d left the weight of everything sheā€™d been carrying.
As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.
Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.
to be continuedā€¦?
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its-avalon-08 Ā· 2 months ago
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moody pouty babies (cs55)
į“”Źœį“‡É“ Ź/É“ į“€É“į“… į“„į“€Ź€ŹŸį“źœ± É¢į“‡į“› į“į“į“į“…Ź į“€źœ°į“›į“‡Ź€ Ź™į“‡ÉŖÉ“É¢ į“€į“”į“€Ź źœ°Ź€į“į“ į“‡į“€į“„Źœį“į“›Źœį“‡Ź€
āœ¦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader
āœ¦ genre - very little angst, funny arguments, tears, comfort
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carlos getting moody after y/n comes back from a business trip
Carlos sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the door as Y/N came back from her business trip. He had been sulking ever since she left, and even though he had missed her terribly, he wasn't going to let it show right away.
ā€œHey, babe,ā€ Y/N called out cheerfully as she stepped inside, carrying her bag. She looked at him with a smile, but Carlos just gave her a moody glance, barely grunting in response.
She raised an eyebrow, sensing his weird mood. ā€œEverything okay?ā€
Carlos huffed, standing up and pacing around the living room. ā€œDo you know how much longer it took you to get home than it should have?ā€
Y/N blinked, confused. ā€œUh, I donā€™t know? Maybe ten minutes? There was some traffic from the airport.ā€
ā€œTen minutes!ā€ Carlos threw his hands up in frustration. ā€œWhy did you take the longer route? You always take the one through the main road, but today you decide to take the one that adds time? After being away for so long, youā€™d think youā€™d want to come home faster.ā€
Y/N stared at him, trying to gauge whether he was serious or not. "Carlos, it was just a little traffic. Itā€™s no big deal.ā€
He scoffed, his jaw tight. "Yeah, well, it is a big deal. And thatā€™s not the only thing. Youā€”" he spun around to face her, his expression frustrated, "ā€”you didnā€™t pick up my calls fast enough either."
Y/N blinked again. "What?"
"You picked up on the fifth ring," Carlos accused, his eyes narrowing. "You usually answer by the second. What, you were too busy for me?"
Y/N bit her lip, trying not to laugh. He was so serious about this, and it was becoming obvious that this wasnā€™t about the traffic or the phone calls. He was upset because he missed her, just like she had missed him. Only, unlike her, Carlos didnā€™t know how to handle his feelings. He just got pouty. And angry. Over nothing.
"Carlos, I wasnā€™t ignoring you," she said, trying to sound reasonable. "I was just busy. I missed you too, you know."
"Did you?" he snapped, his voice rising slightly. "Because it didnā€™t feel like it when you left me waiting on your calls. And you didnā€™t even text me when you landed! I had to figure out you were back from looking at the flight tracker!"
Y/N pressed her lips together, stifling her amusement. He was sulking so much it was almost adorable.
ā€œCarlos,ā€ she began softly, walking closer to him. ā€œAre you really mad about the route I took home? Or the phone calls?ā€
ā€œYes!ā€ Carlos insisted, though his tone wasnā€™t as convincing. ā€œAndā€¦ and you didnā€™t even bring me my favorite snacks from the airport.ā€
Y/N couldnā€™t help it. A laugh escaped her, and Carlosā€™s face twisted into an even deeper pout.
ā€œYouā€™re laughing?ā€ he grumbled, crossing his arms tighter. ā€œThis isnā€™t funny, Y/N. I missed you and all I get is a long wait and a bad route home.ā€
Seeing him in full pout mode, Y/N decided enough was enough. Before Carlos could protest further, she leaped onto his back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
ā€œY/N! What are youā€”ā€
She didnā€™t let him finish as she started peppering his face with kisses. One on his cheek, then his jaw, then the tip of his nose. "I missed you," she cooed between kisses. "I missed you so much."
Carlosā€™s protests faltered, his face softening even though he tried to hold onto his anger. "Iā€”"
Another kiss landed right on his pouty lips, and despite himself, he smiled. "Stop," he mumbled, though he didnā€™t sound convincing.
ā€œNope!ā€ Y/N kissed his cheek again, giggling. ā€œYouā€™re being so grumpy, Carlos. Why didnā€™t you just say you missed me?ā€
Carlos sighed, finally giving in, though he was still pouting a little. "I did miss you," he muttered. "But you took so long to get back, and I justā€¦ I donā€™t know. I hate it when youā€™re gone."
Y/N loosened her grip slightly, sliding off his back and facing him, cupping his cheeks with both hands. ā€œYouā€™re such a baby sometimes,ā€ she teased, planting a kiss on his forehead. ā€œI missed you too, you know. It wasnā€™t on purpose that I took the long route, and I wasnā€™t trying to ignore you. I just got caught up.ā€
Carlos sighed again, his pout fading as he leaned into her touch. "I know. Iā€™m justā€¦ itā€™s hard when youā€™re not here." He finally let his guard down, pulling her into a hug. ā€œI missed you more than I care to admit.ā€
Y/N smiled, hugging him tightly in return. "Well, Iā€™m here now. And next time, Iā€™ll make sure to take the shortest route home, okay? No more delays."
He chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. "And pick up by the second ring."
Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Youā€™re impossible."
Carlos smirked, his mood lightening completely as he kissed her cheek one last time. "Iā€™m your impossible."
y/n getting moody after carlos is gone for a triple header
The door to the apartment clicked open, and Carlos stepped inside, weary but smiling, his bag slung over his shoulder. He had just returned from a grueling triple-header and all he wanted was to relax. He was about to call out for Y/N when she stormed out of the living room, arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Hey, mi amor," Carlos greeted, still clueless about the storm that was brewing. "I missed you so much."
"Really? Did you?" Y/N shot back, her tone icy, though her eyes hinted at something deeper. She was upsetā€”no, more than upset. She was furious. About what? He didnā€™t know yet, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.
Carlos blinked, thrown off by her hostility. "Uh, yeah. Of course I did," he said, his voice unsure.
She scoffed. "Did you miss me enough to even notice that the painting in the hallway is crooked? It's been like that for weeks, Carlos!"
Carlos furrowed his brows in confusion. "The painting? What? Iā€”"
"You walk right past it like itā€™s not a big deal! How do you not notice something like that? Itā€™s right there!"
Carlos turned to look at the painting, squinting. "Itā€™s barely tilted, Y/N. I can fix it right now if it bothers youā€”"
"Thatā€™s not the point!" Y/N snapped, her frustration building. "Itā€™s about paying attention! To the little things! You walk in here like everything is fine and you donā€™t even care about how things are falling apart while you're gone."
"Falling apart?" Carlos repeated, completely lost. "Youā€™re upset about the painting?"
Y/N threw her hands up in the air. "No, Carlos! Iā€™m upset about everything! Youā€™ve been gone for weeks, and Iā€™m here, waiting, missing you, and you justā€”ugh!" She let out an exasperated sound and turned away from him.
Carlos watched her, realization starting to dawn. This wasnā€™t about the painting. She was missing himā€”really missing himā€”and all of this was her way of expressing it. But before he could respond, she whirled back around.
"And another thing!" she continued, her tone rising again. "Why do you leave your laundry in the same pile? Iā€™m not your maid, Carlos. Iā€™m not here to pick up after you every time you walk through the door. You could at leastā€”"
"Y/N," Carlos interrupted, trying not to smile. "Mi vida, youā€™re yelling about laundry now?"
"Yes! And the way you walk! You just stomp around like you donā€™t even care that people live here too!" She was pacing now, angry tears threatening to spill. "Itā€™s like you come back and nothing changes, and you donā€™t care about the things that matter to me, andā€”"
Carlos stepped forward, his hands reaching out to gently hold her arms. "Y/N, stop," he said softly, finally understanding.
She paused, glaring up at him, her chest heaving as she tried to rein in her emotions. "What?" she muttered, still angry but now starting to feel embarrassed.
"Youā€™re not mad about the painting or the laundry," Carlos said, his voice calm, his eyes soft. "Youā€™re mad because you missed me."
Y/Nā€™s lip trembled, and she looked away, her anger flickering. "No. I meanā€¦ maybe. Butā€”"
"You missed me, and instead of saying that, youā€™re picking fights about silly things," Carlos continued, his tone playful now. "The painting? Really, cariƱo?"
Y/Nā€™s cheeks flushed, and she crossed her arms again. "Well, it is crooked," she grumbled, her voice softer now.
Carlos chuckled, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You couldā€™ve just said you missed me. I wouldā€™ve held you and kissed you right away instead of talking about laundry and crooked paintings."
She huffed, her walls finally coming down as she leaned into him. "I didnā€™t want to sound clingy," she mumbled into his chest, her arms sliding around his back.
Carlos pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her tighter. "You could never be clingy. I missed you too, Y/N. So much."
She looked up at him, still trying to hold on to some of her frustration. "Well, I was alone for three whole races. You couldā€™ve texted me more."
Carlos grinned, his eyes shining with affection. "You know Iā€™m always busy on race weekends. But Iā€™ll make it up to you. How about I fix the painting, do the laundry, and then we spend the rest of the day together?"
Y/N narrowed her eyes. "And no more stomping around the house?"
Carlos laughed. "No more stomping. I promise."
Finally, Y/N let herself smile, her anger melting away as she rested her head on his chest. "Okay. But the painting better be straight."
Carlos chuckled again and kissed her softly. "Whatever you say, mi amor. Whatever you say."
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doromoni Ā· 6 months ago
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Gear Shift Failure | MV1, LN4
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Ships : Lando Norris x presenter! Reader , Max Verstappen x presenter! Reader
Genre : Fluff , Angst
Sub tags : Mutual Pinning , She fell too early , He fell too late.
Summary : A new f1 presenter and journalist has entered the paddock and she brings chaos along the way. And as competition looms , will the current Champion be as fast outside the track?
Face claim : Sofia Wylie
A/N: Upon receiving many requests, hereā€™s the continuation you lovely goblins šŸ¤. Also I am still continuing the Clash of Champions ~ i promise (finals end this week!!)
Part 1.
You fought the smile that was forming on your face, as you re-read your conversation with Lando from yesterday.
It has already been a week since your interview with Lando, yet you somehow found yourself in constant communication with the young British Driver. You werenā€™t going to deny that you enjoyed spending time and talking to him. And maybe going out on dates with Lando would do you good.
ā€œ Ok, so I have a friend and she has a dilemmaā€
You suddenly broke the silence in the room. You were in your designated office inside Sky yet again, but this time you had the older drivers lazying around your space. Some with a book in hand ā€” while the rest just played on their phones.
ā€œWhatā€™s your dilemma muƱequita? ā€œ Fernando asked as he set down his phone, giving you his entire attention.
ā€œNot me Nando! My friendā€ you exclaimed at the Spanish world champion who was lounging on your couch still munching on the chips he found in your stash.
ā€œMhmā€¦ yes your friend. Continue, sweetie~ ā€œ Lewis urged you to speak, as he settled further into your couch right beside Fernando
ā€œ Yes, let the girl speak! What is it Liefjeā€ Nico added as he clutched your oversized plush into his arms, a half-opened book dangling in his hands.
ā€œMy friend likes this guy right? The two of them are very close and they share this connection that to others seems more than a friendship- and at one point my friend thought that he felt the same with her aā€”ā€œ
You once again didnā€™t finish your sentence when Nando interrupted you once more.
ā€œReally? What happe-ā€œThe Aston Martin driver was invested
ā€œLET THE GIRL SPEAK!ā€
ā€œFERNANDO! ā€œ
ā€œMATE, I SWEAR!ā€
They all collectively scolded the Spanish driver ā€” prompting him to laugh and raise his hands in surrender
ā€œOk. So my friend thought that the guy that she liked was starting to like her back. But not a week later, the guy that she liked was rumored to have a girlfriend. And he started to avoid my friendā€¦. This was 3 months ago by the way.ā€ You finally finished your story, and now you look at their reactions
Fernando, Lewis, Nico, and Valterri had all fallen into thinking.
ā€œSo how long is the guy and the new girl going out? And how does your friend feelā€ the quiet Finnish driver gently asked you.
ā€œOh, officially for a few weeks, I guess? My friend felt hurt of course. But it gets less painful overtimeā€¦ uh she said that to meā€
ā€œOh. Thatā€™s good for your friend, liefjie! By the sound of it she slowly moving onā€ Nico uttered, a sense of comfort rushed through you
ā€œHow is your friend now, Is she feeling ok?ā€ Lewis asked empathically
ā€œ Sheā€™s great, and youā€™re right Nico. She slowly moving on.ā€
ā€œSo whatā€™s the problem muƱequita?ā€
ā€œWell, another person had asked her out and she feels guilty because she doesnā€™t want to use him to get over the guy she likesā€ you explained to the 4 older drivers.
ā€œWHO ASKED YOU OUT !? Young lady tell us this instance!ā€ You didnā€™t expect Lewisā€™ outbursts ā€” you expect Nando to react that way, but not Lewis!
ā€œItā€™s not me!!ā€ You tried to bluff once more
ā€œY/N, we know itā€™s youā€ Nico explained with a smile, while you pouted as they all chuckled.
ā€œOK FINE! Itā€™s meā€ You utter as you gave up the act.
ā€œSo I assume the guy you were talking about was Max, right?ā€ Valtteri asked, finally speaking.
ā€œIā€™m very obvious arenā€™t I?ā€ You said defeated, as you stood up from your seat and wedged yourself beside Nico.
ā€œEveryone with a pair of eyes knew something was between you and Max, ā€œ Nando said as Valterri nodded in agreement.
ā€œYoung lady, you havenā€™t answered my question. Who asked you? Is it another driver?ā€ Suddenly you felt like you were on the hot seat ā€” as all their eyes focused on you with eyebrows raised. It felt like you were being questioned by your dad.
ā€œUhmm yes, itā€™s another driverā€¦ itā€™s Landoā€ You said as you picked on your nails. A shy smile graces your face.
ā€œ He finally had the balls to ask huh?ā€ Nando snickered
ā€œWhat?? You also knew?!ā€ You asked flabbergasted. You surveyed the room and saw all of them snickering amongst themselves.
ā€œHe did ask for my permission, sort ofā€¦ it was just jumbled words that didnā€™t make sense thenā€ Lewis explained as he visibly got less tense.
ā€œLando asked permission from you?? What are you, my dad?ā€ You asked amused, come to think of it Lewis was sort of a father figure to you. Being that he always supported and guided you ever since the start of your journey in Formula 1
ā€œWell, you sticking around me like a toddler in your first year here doesnā€™t help, sweetie.ā€ Lewis could only laugh at the memories of him taking care of you. Memories like Lewis driving you around, giving you food, telling you to talk to others.
ā€œAnd what are you guys? My uncles?ā€ You asked the 3 drivers, who only shrugged and nodded.
ā€œWell, should I say yes to Lando then?ā€ You asked dropping all pretense and just laying it all out
ā€œIt wouldnā€™t hurt to try, Liefjieā€ Nico advised
ā€œYeah try something new, Dear. Max had his chance and he didnā€™t take it. So go have fun with Lando!ā€ Fernando added, patting your hand.
You set your eyes on Valtteri ā€” who only nodded his head with a smile.
ā€œ You have our approval, and weā€™ll support your decision, sweetie! Do what will make you happyā€ Lewis said comfortingly
the.Y/N
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the.Y/N Apparently, @lewishamilton is my father?? I was only made notice now, ok I guess.
lewishamilton thank you for the flattering pictures , sweetie šŸ„²
the.Y/N oh no worries, pops! More to come I swearšŸ¤
user1 Y/N please donā€™t dogshow the old man šŸ˜­
user2 HAHAHAHAAH I swear Y/N is a different breed
user3 Awwww! I always loved it when Lewis calls Y/N sweetie.
user4 The grid father and daughter pairing šŸ¤
landonorris Oh, You werenā€™t aware?
the.Y/N No, I was not :)) . I was made aware when someone asked for permission.
landonorris well glad to be of service
lewishamilton @landonorris get your act straight! I already approve
landonorris @lewishamilton will do my very best, sir. Thank you šŸ«”
the.Y/N I hate and love you both šŸ˜®ā€šŸ’Ø
User1 Approve of what Sir Lewis?? Lando is approved for what??
mercedesamgf1 family photo with Roscoe when?
the.Y/N already have tons of it in the gallery šŸ˜›
You continued to scroll past your feed and Kellyā€™s post appeared ā€¦
kellypiquet
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kellypiquet Happiest when with you šŸ’™
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maxverstappen1 šŸ’™
You knew that you shouldnā€™t feel jealousy or anger, but you couldnā€™t help but frown as you saw Max and Kelly acting all sweet. It still stung that you didnā€™t mean anything more to Max, all the memories youā€™ve made youā€™ve looked at rose-tinted, shattered.
So you strengthened your resolve and focused all your thoughts on your work. You then remembered that you had a date with Lando. You went back to your conversation a while ago
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Then slowly, without noticing, a smile bloomed on your face at the thought of Lando Norris.
One date with Lando turned into two, two turned into three, then four and five.
the.Y/N
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the.Y/N So much fun , laughs , and food šŸ§” 10/10 would do again!
charles_leclerc you arenā€™t sneaky with that orange heart y/n
the.y/n šŸ¤·ā€ā™€ļøšŸ¤·ā€ā™€ļøšŸ¤·ā€ā™€ļø
lewishamilton stay safe and go home early ~ iā€™m watching you two.
the.Y/N hehehe will do, promise
User1 Ms. Y/N are you seeing someone šŸ§
the.Y/N I dunno~ maybeeee
User2 ok! Im invested. Who is it @the.Y/N?? Please spill
User2 this is so Lando Norris coded I swear.
User 6 I know!! Golf and karting? Could they be more obvious. Ughh I ship itšŸ§”
User3 you look sooooooo pretty Y/N!! who everā€™s dating , I hope they could fight . šŸ˜¤
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User3 LANDO NORRIS LIKED MY COMMENT??? HELLO?!
User4 Lando????!!
You were progressively forgetting your feelings for the Dutch Red Bull Driver . How can you not? When Lando Norris had been showering you with so much love and affection.
Then finally, Lando asked you to be his girlfriend. You said yes. You were ready to let someone else in your heartā€” and this time you were sure that there was someone to catch you when you fell.
your story close friends
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charles_leclerc I made this couple šŸ’Ŗ It was all MEEEE.
landonorris šŸ§”šŸ¤ someones getting bolder ey?
maxverstappen1 haha iā€™ve been replaced as your bestfriend šŸ˜‚
landonorris story
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the.Y/N And I was bold? Ok soft launch ~ Kudos mr. Norris! I wonā€™t go down without a fight tho šŸ«”
charles_leclerc someones being braveee
carlossainz55 Landino! Are you and y/n ready to share to the world then?
The two of you kept everything on the low, yet you didnā€™t keep it a secret ā€” only very select few knew. Lando and you wanted to enjoy what you two had to yourselves first. Everyone outside your circle thought that the two of you were just friends.
But that didnā€™t stop either of you from posting online.
Max saw your posts and the feeling of something clawing in his stomach resurfaced. He didnā€™t like it one bit. It has been 2 months ever since he found out that Lando held feelings for you. And it has been a month since the two of you properly spoke. And if he were honest to himself, Max missed your presence dearly.
Kelly didnā€™t have anything in common with him. And most of the time, he grew bored and he just wanted to crawl back to his sim and drive constantly.
Max missed talking about everything and nothing with you. He missed how you shared his interests and how the two of you explored every one of them. Max just missedā€¦ You.
The longer he stared at his phone screen, the deeper his anxiety rose. He didnā€™t like what he saw, not one bit. He needed to do something about it.
***
You are lounging in your Boyfriendā€™s condo, dressed in a hoodie that you stole from his dresser. Soft music played on the centralized sound system.
Lando was inside his streaming room live on Twitch, while you made your way into his kitchen and started to cook dinner for the two of you. Lando did love your cooking.
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Then suddenly your phone rang and to your surprise it was Max calling. Without any further thought, you picked up the call.
ā€œHello, Y/N?ā€ You heard Maxā€™s voice on the line, the usual butterflies present in your stomach were now absent. You didnā€™t feel the bubbling sensation you used to feel when Max unexpectedly called.
Then suddenly, you heard Lando shout nonsense, probably at his best mate. A smile grazed your lips as you heard your boyfriendā€™s shout in the distance.
ā€œOh, hi Max! Whatā€™s up?ā€ You asked curiously, balancing your phone on your shoulders as you took out the ingredients from the fridge.
ā€œWhere are you, right now? No oneā€™s answering the front doorā€ Maxā€™s reply startled you. Why is he at your house all of a sudden?
ā€œWhat? Youā€™re in my houseā€¦ uh why?ā€ You asked, a tone of confusion present in your voice
ā€œItā€™s Wednesday, Movie night rememberā€ You were filled with even more perplexity for the Red Bull driver. The two of you havenā€™t talked one one-on-one for nearly a month, not even through chat. Movie nights with Max were long forgotten.
ā€œMaxā€¦. We havenā€™t had movie night in 3 months.ā€ You replied carefully.
ā€œUhm, we can start again?ā€ You sensed the hopelessness in his voice.
ā€œIā€™m sorry Max, Iā€™m at Landoā€™s right nowā€¦ and I donā€™t think your girlfriend would appreciate it if we suddenly continued movie nightsā€
ā€œYouā€™re at Landoā€™s? Y/N its already la-ā€
ā€œMax I think itā€™s best if we kept our distanceā€¦ yeah?ā€ You suddenly interjected, clearly stating your boundaries.
ā€œWhat?! Why?ā€ Max asked incredulously
ā€œMax ā€¦ you have a girlfriend! I donā€™t want to create any misunderstandings. And I donā€™t want Lando to have doubts ā€¦ considering that I used to have feelings for you before. But we can still hang out ā€¦ but in a group settingā€
You didnā€™t mean to spill everything and tell Max of your past feelings for him, but you found yourself relieved of letting it out of your chest. Now you could truly say that you have moved on.
There was silence before Max had finally answered. ā€œOhā€¦ ok. I understandā€
ā€œBye Maxā€ At that you ended the call, leaving that part of your past behind.
The sound of the call ending echoed in Maxā€™s head. The words youā€™ve said slowly dawned on him.
You liked him? Since when? Suddenly understanding and relief filled Max. He realized that he liked you more than just a sister. He didnā€™t look at you as just a friend. He suddenly understood the emotions that he was so afraid to explore before. What he felt for you was something so strong that it scared him. It wasnā€™t like what he felt when he was with Kelly, no. But with you, He felt vulnerable, He felt like everything was on the table because you understood him so well.
Then suddenly Max froze, as if cold water was dumped all over him. You said liked ā€¦ past tensed. You didnā€™t like him anymore. Max was suddenly filled with dread, chest hurting as if tons of weight pressed on it.
He had his chances in making you his, and his alone. Max Verstappen maybe the fastest driver on the grid , but outside the track ā€” he had failed to switch gears from making you from a friend to much much more. He had lost you and it was all his fault.
landonorris
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landonorris the world should see the forever view of my camera lens. Love you , stranger šŸ§”
tagged @the.Y/N
the.Y/N I love you more, strangeršŸ§”
taglist: @spookystitchery @bibissparkles @newlifeforus @steamy-smokey @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @charizznorizz @evesfile @j-lesca @gr1mes-cc @ironmaiden1313
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logansargeantsbabymom Ā· 5 months ago
Note
Can you write one about were Logan x female reader x oscar or Lando x female reader x Oscar or Logan x Female reader x oscar x lando
Where They are at a afterparty for a race and since y/n was being a needy and bratty all race week and weekend long before they went to the after party some one of the 2-3 drivers had put a vibrator up her ass and at the party since she was still acting needy and bratty they started to turn up the power of the vibrator as they keep teasing her until she is on the edge about to cum and they stop telling her itā€™s her punishment for taking bratty all week and race weekend long as she started to beg and plead to let herself finish, they all take a car home to there shared apartment and but the vibrator at max power again and continue this in their room were they end up have unprotected sex, use rope and a mouth gag, blindfold, call her dirty names and say dirtier things to her or in her ear and after for aftercare they take super good care of her
Oscar is a Dom and in charge Lando and Logan can we doms or switchs, y/n is a sub
I'm actually gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now, I love you anonymous šŸ˜˜šŸ«£.
You Shouldn't Have Done That
Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader x Logan Sargeant x Lando Norris
I hope I did you justice (for gotham)
Warnings: SMUT, Bondage, Vibrators, Overstimulation, Bratty Y/N, Sucker Logan, Mean Lando, MEANER Oscar, Crying, Slapping, Anal, Triple Penetration, probably more but I forgot
F1 Masterlist
Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
Instagram
part 2
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A knock at the door is what drew my attention away from my phone that I'd been staring at for the last 15 minutes reading a few of these 'fan fictions' about my boyfriends that people were DMing me. Apparently somebody with no life named 'logansargeantsbabymom' has been making shit smut and posting it on Tumblr.
"Baby, race is about to start" I could recognize that beautiful English accent from a mile away.
Normally hearing Lando's incredibly sexy voice would make my bones start jumping in my skin but apparently I'm not the only fucking one because people fantasize about having the filthiest sex with him, write about it, post it on Tumblr and his fans eat it up!!
"I'm coming" I said nonchalantly as I got off the sofa that Lando had in his drivers room.
Lando held the door open for me as I brushed past him making my way to the back of the garage and then out of it. I didn't want to see him.
"What's wrong with her?" Oscar says as he came up from behind Lando
"I've got no clue but if she keeps it up I'm fucking it out of her" Lando shrugged before putting his helmet on
One thing about me is that I will make sure I am the one that puts on all three of my boyfriends helmets on them. I love to go up on my tippy toes to bite the tip of their nose before placing a kiss on it then the helmet on them. I've always done it even if we had gotten into the biggest argument on planet earth but right now, that's the last thing I wanted to do for Lando. I couldn't do it for Oscar either because then I'd fell bad for doing our normal race day tradition on Oscar and then just dipping and leaving Lando alone.
I also didn't want to deal with the consequences of "favoriting" Logan if I only did it for him so I skipped out on the tradition as a whole. The race was about to start in 10 minutes which means the drivers are all about to or already in their car and getting ready to get out on the track. I couldn't go back into the McLaren garage or I'd have to face two of the three boyfriends I'd just pissed off and I couldn't go to the Williams garage because they probably already texted Logan. So I went to the next best place: The Mercedes Garage.
I was forbidden to go in the Mercedes garage alone because apparently Lewis has a 'thing' for me, which wouldn't surprise me because I'm hot.
"Hey Y/N, what're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be biting your boyfriends' noses?" I knew that cheeky English accent and it belong to the man that I was never to be in a room with alone.
"Lewis! Supposed to? Yes. Am? No, they pissed me off so I'm ignoring them." I shrugged. I really couldn't care less how they were going to react to me breaking tradition.
"Isn't that just going to get you in trouble?" Lewis said cautiously
"Not as much trouble I'll be in if they find out I was here with you alone." I chuckled as I shrugged.
I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket like crazy which caused me to whip it out and see what the fuck was going on.
Fantastic 4
Fav Butt Plug: I swear to the heavens above Y/N if this girl whose on the screen right now is you in the Mercedes garage with Lewis ALONE, I'm having your ass tonight. Oscunt: I want to know what the fuck has you all pissed at Lando but I don't like your little stunt of ignoring ME. Me: Stalkers Logie: Baby, why didn't you come to put my helmet on? Fav Butt Plug: You have one more time to piss me off Y/N.
"Lewis do you want to help me with something real quick?" The idea I had in mind was sure to make the tabloids right away and send the internet into a frenzy
"I don't like the general direction of where your idea's go." I waved a hand at him
"Let me put your helmet on you, I promise there will be no kissing" I looked at the clock, Lewis had 5 minutes before he was to be getting on the track and with a quick nod of his head I took the helmet out of his hands before securing it on his head before giving him a big smile and a bear hug before he was ushered into his car.
As I was exiting the Mercedes garage, I didn't know where I was going to go. Everyone is still in their respective garages and I'm NOT facing my boyfriends right now. Shortly after my encounter with
Fantastic 4 Fav Butt Plug: expect 10 orgasms MINIMUM tonight. Oscunt: None of which from me so don't ask. Logie: Did I do something baby? Why did you put Lewis' helmet on and not mine? Oscunt: Logan, she's being a brat. She didn't put mine or Lando's helmets on. Logie: I'm sorry for whatever I did to you, my sweet girl Oscunt: She acts this way because you give into her every ask, this is your fault Logan. I hope you crash. Logie: first of all, don't say that because I still don't have a seat for next season. Secondly, I do give into her every word because she's my pillow princess. Me: At least someone appreciates me, I love you Logan Logie: I love you more. Oscunt: She was never spoiled or a brat until you came along Logan, maybe you deserved to get punished alongside your dear 'pillow princess'. Me: Don't you dipshits (not you Logan) have a race? Stop texting me and drive.
ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”
And drive is exactly what they did because Lando came in 1st, Oscar 3rd and Logan 4th.
The race was definitely a hard one with the on and off rain, the wall of champions and the hairpin but somehow they all managed it and they did it well.
Usually when one of my boyfriends has a good race weekend the victory sex is amazing but all 3 of them placed in the top 4? I donā€™t think Iā€™m getting ANY rest tonight.
I stood by the scale so I could congratulate 2 of my boyfriends for their victory podiums but after they were congratulated by their team and they recorded their weights, they walked right past me.
I felt a sharp pain in my heart at their act but then I realized why they did what they did, I was being a brat before the race but if they wanna act like that, I will one up them.
I turned my head to the man who was currently getting his weight recorded and the man who came in second. It also happens to be the same man who Iā€™m not allowed to be alone with.
ā€œLEWIS!! CONGRATULATIONS!ā€ I screamed as I hugged him, making sure to make the hug last a little longer than a typical ā€˜friendā€™ hug would last while also swaying us side to side.
"Y/N! Thank you, thank you. Are you coming to the after party, we already rented out the whole bar?" There was a little sparkle in his eyes that gave me an idea.
A sly smirk plastered itself on my face "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world, especially if you're going to be there!" I placed a quick kiss on his cheek before placing my hand where I had just placed the kiss.
"Y/N!!" It was a loud and angry yell that should've scared me but it did the exact opposite, it turned me on.
I turned to face the person the voice belonged to, to see Lando with the meanest glare I've ever seen on his face. I gave a little nod goodbye to Lewis before making my way to Lando.
"Hey my handsome winner" I said when I got close enough as I ran my hand through his thick and messy curls, it didn't last long though because he grabbed my wrist and dragged me with him to his drivers room.
When we got there he opened the door and shoved me inside where I was met with my other two boyfriends who looked less than pleased with me. Lando slammed the door shut which caused me to jump and face him.
Lando's face didn't shift a bit from his angry demeanor. "Oh, is bunny scared? Surprised she can act any other way that isn't bratty" I heard a voice from behind me say as a chest was up pressed against my back and felt the back of a hand trace the side of my face before gripping the flesh of my throat.
"Oscar" it came out as a choked groan
I saw Logan from the corner of my eyes fishing something out of a box that Lando had stowed away behind the sofa before he made his way over to us. Oscar still had his hand on my throat but he ushered me towards the massage bed Lando has before aggressively bending me over on it which caused me to let out a groan. I could hear Logan's footsteps coming closer to where Lando was before handing him a pink object and I felt Oscar's hand at the hem of my leggings before yanking them down along with my panties.
At first Oscar was just playing with the flesh of my ass and occasionally leaving harsh slaps on it saying things like "You asked for this", "take this part of your punishment like a good girl and maybe I'll tell Lando to go easy on you." I heard Lando whisper something to Oscar and then I felt one more final and harsh slap on my ass before I felt Oscar's hands spread open my ass cheeks and forced his thumb in my tight asshole thrusting it in and out before shoving the Lush lovense vibrator where his thumb once was.
A loud string of moans and curse words left my lips before I felt a pair of lips on mine swallowing my moans. When he pulled away, I opened my eyes to see my favorite American right there looking at me with sympathetic eyes. Logan never liked when I got punished and had to deal with all the roughness Lando and Oscar put me through, he only liked soft, vanilla sex most of the time.
"It's okay baby, just be good" Logan said before he placed a soft and tender kiss on my lips.
Oscar's rough hands yanked me back into a standing position and Lando bent over to lift my leggings back up and over my waist before lightly slapping my cheek
"This is how you're going to the afterparty, don't you even think about cumming until we get home OR unless me or Oscar give you permission." I knew he was going to leave Logan out of giving me permission because he gives me basically everything I want with just a bat of my lashes.
-----
We've only been in this bar/club for less than 30 minutes and I'm already sweating. I'm not sweating because there's a lot of people in here all grinding against each other, no I'm sweating because Lando keeps turning the vibrator on the fastest setting and letting it go just until I'm about to cum before he turns it off denying me any sort of relief and he's done this about 6 times already. I can't do this anymore.
Lando turned the vibrator on full blast and watched as I squirmed in my seat as I was having a conversation with Alex
"Are you okay? You're sweating more than normal right now and you keep fidgeting" Poor Alex, she seemed so concerned
"Yeah I just have to go to the bathroom, I've had to pee for a while now but I didn't want to interrupt your story" It wasn't a total lie, I didn't want to interrupt her story but I didn't have to pee.
"Oh Y/N, go to bathroom, I'll be here!" with that I quickly made my way to the ladies room quickly checking every stall before settling into one and taking the vibrator out of my ass, sighing in relief before wrapping it in toilet paper and tossing it into the bin.
Exiting the stall with a smile on my face, I quickly washed my hands before making my way back to Alex.
"Hey, sorry about that again. I really had to go" I tried to sound sincere, mainly because I was.
Alex finished telling me about her story about how Charles surprised her with a trip to Sydney and all the fun things they did over in the down under when I felt quick and rapid taps on my shoulder, prompting me to look at the man who was tapping me aggressively.
"Baby, we have to go now, Logan just got really sick" My heart dropped and I looked over Lando's shoulder to see Oscar helping Logan out of the bar.
"I'm sorry Alex, I have to go" I didn't wait for her response before I bolted past Lando and out the door.
Much to my surprise when I made it past the bar doors, I saw Logan and Oscar laughing up a storm and having a good time. My mouth hung in shock as I couldn't believe the sight in front of me. I was about to turn around to give Lando a piece of my mind for lying to me and making me cut my conversation short.... AGAIN.
"Lando! How dare you lie-" I couldn't finish my sentence due to Lando holding up his hand signaling me to shut up before pulling his phone out and flipping it.
The sight made my face drop, he was currently showing me the app he has to control my vibrator setting and it was all the way up.
"Bunny, do you know how many times I turned this up tonight?" Lando tilted his head and when I didn't answer he tsked before walking closer to me "I'm not asking you again. Answer me like a good girl and I won't punish you."
"You won't?" he shook his head "I took it out at 6, I don't know how many more times you did it after"
"I turned it up 4 more times after you took it out." I felt a body against my back
"Just wait until we get home for your punishment " Oscar whispered in my ear before slapping my ass so hard I let out a little yelp
"I thought I wasn't getting punished?" I said confused
"No, I said I wasn't punishing you. I said nothing about Oscar" A cocky smirk plastered itself on Lando's insanely hot face and I watched as him and Oscar both got into Lando's McLaren.
I felt a hand on the small of my back and I turned to see Logan, he seemed to have a sympathetic look on his face "I tried to get them to come up with a different type of punishment then what you're getting but they didn't want to hear it. Don't say I didn't try to help you"
Oh god.
----
When we got back to Oscar's apartment, I almost didn't want to go in. I didn't have to have to endure the punishments they had in store for me but Oscar didn't take lightly to that and in 2 seconds flat he threw me over his shoulders and walked me to his room.
Lando had made his way to his room to get what he claimed was 'part of your punishment' while Logan closed the door to the apartment. Oscar had chucked me on the bed before yanking me to the edge of it, holding a hand on my chin forcing me to look at him in the eyes.
"Strip" was all Oscar said. I did as I was told because I already knew I was in for a long night and I didn't want to push Oscar any further.
I started slowly unbuttoning my dress shirt but Oscar didn't like that, he ripped the shirt open sending the buttons flying everywhere. I wanted to yell at him for ruining my favorite shirt but I knew there was going to be no point. When Lando and Logan walked in the room I could tell they also knew that I wouldn't be in the pubic eye for about a week after all three of them were done with me.
Logan made his way around and on the bed to be right behind me "These tits, oh my gosh. You're going to be the death of me" Logan mumbled into the crook of my neck as his hands made their way around my body to grope my chest.
"I can't wait to burry my cock in her tight little ass" Lando said as he sat on the bed beside me and started to kiss my shoulder. I let out a string of moans as I had two pairs of lips kissing and sucking on two different parts of my body
"Wanna tell me what made you so upset earlier that caused you to be bratty all day today? Hmm?" Lando said as his hand snaked its way down my stomach and under the elastic of my leggings.
"Let's take these off, yeah?" Oscar said as he yanked them off my body.
My legs instinctively opened to allow Lando more access to where I ached for him the most.
"I saw- oh my gosh Lando, please" I was cut off my Lando having inserted two digits into my pussy, thrusting them in and out while his thumb started rubbing circles on my clit.
"I believe Lando asked you a question Bunny" Oscar said as he reached his hands around my body to unclasp my bra.
His one hand immediately found my breast and started circling my nipples as Logan moved to the opposite side of him to attach his mouth to my other breast, swirling his tongue around the bud of my nipple.
"I saw people fantasize about fucking you. All of you" it sounded pathetic and hypocritical coming from me because I did the exact same thing before I got with all three of them.
"Bunny, we only have eyes for you." Lando said as he kiss the tip of my nose "But you're still getting punished" with that Lando grabbed me and yanked my body onto his, my back against his chest as he fists his cock a few times before aligning it to my asshole and thrusting up and in my tight hole. A loud cry escaped my lips before Oscars mouth found mine drowning out the noise. I felt the cushion of the bed dip before feeling a tap on my face, I opened it to see Logan cock right next to my face.
My mouth instinctively opened and took his cock in, moaning at the taste of his precum on my tongue. Logan started to thrust his cock in my mouth at a pace that had drool running down my chin in no time. The sound of me choking on Logans cock and skin to skin contact from Lando's painfully rough thrusts was all that filled the room. Oscar soon joined the party as he shoved his cock into my cunt with no warning which caused me to pull my mouth away from Logan cock to let out an unexpected screech.
"I didn't say you could stop sucking my cock, now did I?" Logan said as he gripped my face and shoved his cock back in my mouth, this time he fucked my face with so much force I thought I was fucking a different guy.
Soon enough after everyones strokes and pace matched, I knew I was one step closer to the edge and I was about to break (pls get the linkin park reference) . I felt the coil in the stomach tighten and my orgasm was finally about to wash over me tonight.
As if they all read my mind or just knew my body, the all simultaneously pulled out and left me nothing.
"No!" I cried at the empty feeling washing over my body, it all felt like sudden coldness.
"You didn't think we were letting you off the hook that easily did you?" Lando's tone mocking as he ordered "Go up against the headboard"
I did as I was told knowing there was no point in fighting them. Once I was against the board, I watched Lando as he grabbed what he went to his room for: A blindfold, rope and one singular feather.
Lando tossed the rope to Oscar who immediately started tying my wrists to the bedposts and threw the blindfold to Logan who eagerly took it out the packaging and on my face.
The room fell silent for about a minute after I was tied up, no one moved, no one talked. I felt the bed dip and the movement caused my whole body to tense, soon after I felt the feather being dragged up my thigh to my stomach before feeling it swirl around my nipples. A mix of moans, groans, and "fuck"s all left my mouth as I felt my orgasm creeping closer.
"Baby, I'm going to fuck you now, okay?" Oscar said before he aligned himself with the entrance of my cunt before sliding in with ease, his thrusts started off slow and sensual, allowing me to adjust to his size before his thrust became rough and erratic.
Oscar wasn't the only one eager to get his dick wet because I felt a thumb tap my bottom lip, signaling me to open it before I felt a cock brush past my lips. Based on his thrust in my mouth, I could tell it was Lando's cock that I was currently sucking, his pace relentless.
Oscar's hips started stuttering against my body as his thrusts slowed and I knew he was close to his orgasm. One thing about Oscar is that when he cums, he never wants to do it alone which means I'm finally about to get my release that's been eluding me all night.
Oscar abruptly pulled his cock out of me leaving me empty and orgasmless again, my disappointment didn't last long because as fast as Oscar pulled out Logan just as fast attached his mouth to my clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud bringing me close to my orgasm, which I was fully prepared to not have again.
Much to my surprise Logan didn't stop which prompted me to wrap my legs around his head making sure he couldn't go anywhere as he pushed me off the edge and I came with a loud strings of cursing and chants of 'Logan' leaving my mouth as my body shuddered and my legs squeezed around Logan head. I felt him moan against my vagina which made my body jerk upward at the vibrations.
Soon after I came down from my high, I felt a strong pair of hands yanking my legs apart before feeling Logan because torn away from my pussy.
"You shouldn't have done that Logan" Lando whispered in his ear.
------
y'all- if there's typos or a part doesn't make sense its because I'm sleepy. I wanted to put something out because I haven't in like 3 days or something like that and I felt bad.
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madelynn-sienna Ā· 3 months ago
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ms americana and the heartbreak prince (logan sargeant x reader)
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ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
ā˜…Ā prompt : ā›ā› it's you and me, that's my whole world... āœāœ ā˜…Ā pairing : logan sargeant x reader ā˜…Ā face claim : unnamed women on pinterest ā˜…Ā genre : fluff and comfort ā˜…Ā a/n : i wanted to release this yesterday but got a bit busy, but in light of william's announcement, i figured a happy, feel-good logan piece would be nice for fans of his out there (+ i feel really bad for him) šŸ„ŗ ā˜…Ā feedback and requests are always appreciated!
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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f1 šŸš© Red flag in FP3 at Circuit Zandvoort as Logan Sargeant suffers a huge crash. Thankfully the Williams driver is out of the car and reports that he is doing okay, but the same cannot be said for his car.
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user1 he's making williams bleed money.
user2 he is definitely bringing in more than he costs. user3 logan's been in what four crashes already? user4 he's made them lose at least $3 million in repair work.
user5 glad he's okay!!
user6 they need to fire him.
user7 exactly, logan isn't good enough to race in formula one user8 dude roscoe or leo could probably drive better than him user9 honestly, how does he have a job atp user10 petition to fire sargeant before monza
user11 why is he still here?
user12 right? the crash was so avoidable. user13 he should have been replaced over summer break.
user14 how does his guy have any fans?
user15 he doesn't user16 mainly just fangirls who like him for his looks user17 how does he still have a car or a team?
user18 just sack him honestly
user19 guys stop saying bad things about him, i can't like everything!
user20 you got me at the first half šŸ˜‚
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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williamsracing We'd like to thank Logan for his work over the past two seasons. He will continue as a member of the Williams family and we wish him all the best for his future endeavours.
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user1 good riddance
user2 right? how did that guy have a car for this long!? user3 i mean i can drive better than logan šŸ˜‚ user4 that's not too difficult uk, just don't crash šŸ‘€
user5 well done williams!
user6 took them long enough to come to their senses user7 now that they have a good car, it really was time to sack him
user8 i feel so bad šŸ’”
user9 thank god, he's just a financial liability
user10 bye bye šŸ˜Š
user11 really was about time! user12 can't wait to see colapinto in the car user13 watch him make the points in his debut race user14 that'll be so embarrassing for sargeant user15 who cares?
user16 nooooooo šŸ¦… šŸ‡ŗšŸ‡ø
user17 let's go franco colapinto šŸ‡¦šŸ‡·
user18 is this really a shock to anyone?
user19 i was counting down the days after zandvoort user20 i thought they'd sack him right after that fp3 crash!
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
text exchanges between y/n & logan dated 27/08.
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logansargeant added to their story.
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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yourinstagram there's escape in escaping.
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lilyzneimer this is so cute šŸ’–
user1 couple goals fr fr
user2 right? i need a logan in my life šŸ„ŗ user3 why so he can crash into you? man's jobless.
logansargeant a much needed break with my favourite person ā¤ļø
yourinstagram you deserved every second of it! logansargeant thank you for making it so special, babe. logansargeant i'm still smiling šŸ˜Š yourinstagram awww, i love you more than words can describe šŸ’• logansargeant not as much as i love you, but nice try šŸ˜‰ user4 why are they so adorable?!?
oscarpiastri i hope you two enjoyed france, it's a beautiful place!
user4 i'm sure they did šŸ‘€ yourinstagram we had a great time, got to visit annecy too. lilyzneimer they took our suggestion oscā£ļø
alexalbon been to france twice in less than two months šŸ˜®
logansargeant did it without the yacht this time dude. yourinstagram its logan's new favourite country šŸ‘€ user5 what happened to mr america?! logansargeant the betrayal babe šŸ˜¢
user6 they're so cute together šŸ«¶
user7 right? we love ms americana and her heartbreak princešŸ’œ
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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logansargeant Couldn't be prouder, dr. l/n šŸŽ“ ā¤ļø
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georgerussell congratulations y/n!
yourinstagram aww, this is so cute babe - i'm going to cry šŸ„ŗ
logansargeant you deserve this moment so much ā¤ļø logansargeant i can't wait to watch you shine as a doctor šŸ¤©
lilymhe such a beautiful graduation šŸ’•
alexalbon where are my photo credits logan?!? congrats y/n
logansargeant you took one picture. alexalbon which you used! yourinstagram why do i sound like an afterthought alex šŸ˜¢ alexalbon sorry? šŸ˜… yourinstagram that sounds like a question, i'm heartbroken! alexalbon you're dramatic yourinstagram well, so are you. logansargeant presenting the drama king and queen, everyone. user1 i live for the alex and y/n banter! user2 right? they are so sibling-coded.
oscarpiastri we're so proud of you, y/n!
lilyzneimer ā¤ļø
user3 excuse me, logan's girlfriend is a doctor?!?
user4 yeah, she graduated from oxford, she's like super smart! user5 i'm so happy for her tbh
user6 love how successful they both are rn!
user7 right? logan's doing amazing in indycar rn šŸ¤© user8 they're honestly living the american dream user9 after all the williams and f1 drama, i'm so deserve it
user10 it's giving miss americana
user11 so demure, so mindful user12 that trend's getting so old now šŸ˜­
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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yourinstagram It's you and me, that's my whole world šŸ’ šŸ«¶
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user1 oh. my. god.
user2 we're finally getting mr and mrs americanašŸ¤© user3 i can't believe she'll be mrs sargeant soon!
lilyzneimer congratulations šŸ’•
user4 just can't take the florida out of the man
user5 i was just about to comment that! user6 this is definitely in fort lauderdale user7 they met there, so it's probably really special <3
georgerussell can't wait for the wedding mate!
alexalbon can we take a minute to appreciate my help?
logansargeant shhhhh šŸ‘€ yourinstagram go on... lilymhe please, you literally did nothing alex alexalbon i did too, i let logan borrow the marquee letters! lilymhe you let him borrow two m's and a y user8 i live for lily roasting alex in the comments šŸ˜‚
oscarpiastri congrats, just saying, i expect an invitation šŸ„ŗ
yourinstagram the matchmaker gets a spot on the bridal party šŸ‘€ user9 oscar introduced y/n and logan?!? user10 don't be afraid to spill the story oscar, we're all waiting...
user11 this is going to be the wedding of the year!
user12 more like the century user13 of course, it's the royal american wedding šŸ¦… šŸ‡ŗšŸ‡ø
user14 i'm so happy, this has been such a good year for them
user15 right? y/n's a doctor now and logan won rookie of the year user16 what a turnaround after his f1 career user17 counting the days till they're begging him to return user18 his replacements haven't even bagged any points šŸ˜‚
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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yourinstagram I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover...
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logansargeant you made me the luckiest man alive, mrs sargeant ā¤ļø
logansargeant or should i say dr sargeant šŸ‘€ yourinstagram not as lucky as i am mr sargeant šŸ’• yourinstagram or should i say indycar drivers' champion šŸ˜‰
oscarpiastri so happy for the two of you!
lilyzneimer what a beautiful wedding ā¤ļø
user1 you can't just drop a whole wedding with no warning šŸ˜­
user2 right? like i'm going to need 2-3 days to recover user3 i love how they were able to keep a whole wedding hidden user4 exactly, i'm glad they got some privacy.
alexalbon and best man of the year goes to...
oscarpiastri me! alexalbon the lies, the outrage, we both know it was me šŸ˜® oscarpiastri please. alexalbon y/n, logan, what's the verdict? yourinstagram i plead the fifth! logansargeant what she said. alexalbon traitors.
user5 y/n's the prettiest bride i've ever seen šŸ’•
user6 and logan's the most handsome groom! user7 they really are a match made in heaven. user8 i'm so, so happy for them!
user9 these pictures are so cute
user10 definitely the wedding of the year šŸ’–
user11 that dip is so extra, but we love it šŸ’™
user12 presenting miss americana and her heartbreak prince!
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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logansargeant I was enchanted to meet youā£ļø
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yourinstagram the best christmas gift ever ā¤ļø
logansargeant absolutely, i couldn't have asked for anything more logansargeant thank you for giving me this opportunity darling šŸ’• yourinstagram couldn't have done it without you love šŸ’– alexalbon they may be all love dovey here, but that's all lies alexalbon y/n threatened logan so many times during labour šŸ˜‚ lilymhe cut my girl some slack, you'll have a broken hand if you put me through that kind of pain šŸ˜  alexalbon but babies? šŸ„ŗ user1 we all know who's sleeping on the sofa tonight...
oscarpiastri so who do we have a godfather in mind?
alexalbon we both know it's going to be me. oscarpiastri i'm just saying, i am more responsible alexalbon for the 100th time, i didn't lose my cousin oscarpiastri no, you just misplaced him in a massive crowd šŸ‘€ user2 i didn't know i needed alex and oscar banter in my life.
user3 awww, the baby is so adorable
user4 right? logan and y/n make such cute babies user5 i wonder what they've named the baby... user6 we all know it's going to be the most american name ever!
user7 congratulations!
georgerussell amazing news guys! can't wait to meet her šŸ’•
estebanocon FĆ©licitations Ć  vous deux!
ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ļ½„ļ¾ŸĀ·:ļ½”ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„Ā ļ½„ļ¾Ÿļ¾Ÿļ½„ āœ© ļ½„ļ¾Ÿ
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logansargeant I am incredibly excited to announce that i'll be returning to formula one in the coming season to drive for Haas. I would like to thank Andretti for giving me three phenomenal seasons with IndyCar and two drivers championships. I wouldn't be here without your help and guidance. This a dream come true for me, and I cannot appreciate my wife enough for all the sacrifices she has made and love and support she has showered me with in the last seven years. I am who I am today because of her.
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yourinstagram so proud of you logan, i love you ā¤ļø
logansargeant you mean the world to me, i love you so much šŸ’•
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