#till he wins his first race

[raekiastri]

just passed out on the floor multiple times and i cannot stand back up.

[landossnorriss]

i see you | ln x she.

Pairing: lando x she.

Summary: a new voice appears on the radio to get lando through the end of the hungary race. part 2 here.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: we've taken some liberties on whose allowed on the team radio ok? i'm in mourning. this is also my first time writing for f1 or lando so >.>

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the small crackle in his ear was a sure sign that someone was about to patronise him again. for years, for years he had bled for mclaren. he'd turned down calls from horner and the men in red, he'd turned his nose to them every single time and now he finally had a chance to put a closer dent in his gap on the world championship and they just wanted him to give it up. it wasn't fair, oscar couldn't even keep up he was the fastes-

"lan?" the quiet voice that appeared in his ear shocked him, his frown forming in his helmet.

"love? now they're using you to get to me?" he scoffed at the thought, his foot on the throttle a little harder as he made his way around turn 11. fuck the team orders, they couldn't do this to him.

for her part, his girl could feel the guilt eating at her chest. "i think so." she'd wanted to smack will when he had looked at her pleadingly from the garage. "but you tell me right now, if you want this win and i'll fight will for the radio for the rest of the race, i'll be out of here so quick and i'll cut them off, give you the time you need." she offered and lando knew she meant it. his girl was quiet, preferred to stay out of the lime light and would always pick his jolly over the flash cars he had, but when it came down to it she was scrappy.

a small smile appeared on the racers face as he thought about the sight, honestly he hoped she managed to trip will and cause some momentary damage. noting he had gone quiet she let her head drop a little, eyes closing as she tried to imagine was going through his head. "my love...can you look at him in the morning if you don't let him past now?" she asked quietly, ignoring the glares that were surrounding her in the pit wall.

"it's a win baby, i need to prove that i can win on my own after miami and i need...i need those points for the championship."

"so drive, put your throttle down lan, drive and don't stop till the flag if you can live with being that man, but i know you and i love you and i'll love you regardless of what you chose right now but i also know you and this won't be winning on your own merit, this will haunt you my love and he'd do it for you, you know he'd do it for you."

lando paused again, swallowing as he rounded the corner. "you'd love me even if i took the win?"

"even then." and now she was pretty sure will was going to murder her if she ever surrendered this radio, at the very least, andreas was never letting her back in the garage.

"you'll love me more if i give osc the spot back?" he hated how unsure his voice sounded as he asked the question and her heart broke for him over how much she knew he would tare into himself later.

"no lando, my love for you isn't based on what you do in that car, not ever, its the man that comes home to me i care about." chewing on her lip she let her gaze flicker to the monitors. "the pit lane straight is coming up..." the comment hung in the air between them and she watched as it happened, 6 seconds, 5.3 seconds, 4 seconds - lando was letting him past.

"you're my winner lando." she whispered softly into the radio, silently wiping the tear that fell at his act. the look of relief around the pit wall was enough to make her guilt grow even more, at what they had cost lando today, what they had made her do. if they could just get their damn strategies right he wouldn't have been put in this position in the first place, he'd had been free to race as he came out behind oscar but instead she would piece together the pieces they threatened to break again as she took care of him tonight.

"i love you so much." lando urged as he watched oscar fly past him, his heart stopping for a moment before his foot found the throttle again. he didn't want to hear wills voice again, not right now and they could make it through two more laps without his help anyway. "will you stay with me for the rest of the race?" he asked because wins and races could come and go so long as he had her.

her eyes flickered to andreas on the wall from where she knew he was listening, watching as he nodded. "confirmed norris, i'm with you till the end." they didn't say much as he finished his race but she kept the line open with him. if the rest of the world would have something to say about the lovers simply existing together for the next two minutes then let them, she was the only one who saw him sometimes she was sure, the only one who knew what he had just done would be doing to him inside.

the chequered flag came and she checked the screens once more before making the call. "that's p2 baby, p2, you know what to do from here." sliding from her chair she didn't bother to take the head set off as she made her way through the garage and out through the pit lane to where she knew lando would soon be parking. she was easy to spot with the bright yellow merch she wore, forever a lando girl over mclaren and her eyes shiny as she watched her man move to congratulate oscar. it left a bitter taste in her mouth, that the win would be tainted by shitty team orders but she'd get to celebrating with oscar later once she knew her driver was ok.

she continued to chew at her lip as lando removed his helmet, the green eyes she knew so well looking around for her and she let her smile return at the way his shoulder visibly relaxed at the sight of her. lando was slow to move, not wanting to risk any more hate that he already knew he was going to get but there was only one thing he wanted right now. the hands he felt cupping his face, an instant sanctuary for the male. "i see you lan." the soft words that meant more to him than even love would.

leaning forward lando let the gap between them close, his lips find hers softly for a moment. normally she would pull away and scald him, knowing just how many cameras were in this pit lane to capture the moment but he needed her more now than she needed to shrink into the shadows. "i'm so damn proud of you." she whispered against his lips, fingers finding the damp curls at the back of his head and her chest settling now that she could hold him once more.

he'd never been as good with words as she had, always seemingly saying the same thing but he wanted to try, for her. "you mean more to me than all this you know?" he could already hear the people calling his name for media duties and as tempting as it was to just face the fines, grab his girl and vanish, lando knew that it would be better for the team if he saved them face. all the blood he'd lost for them still had to count for something right? taking a final second to lock in her face, lando lent forward for a final singular kiss. "i'll see you in my drivers room." he promised before he stepped away.

with a small nod she moved back, eyes filled with tears once more as he stepped up to take the mike from nico and he demonstrated once more why he was the man she adored. racing could continue to test him all it wanted, but she would be the anchor whilst he weathered any storm for as long as he needed her.

[bunny-jpeg]

head principal!max verstappen was supposed to retire over five years ago. but that never happened. he often joked that the allure of racing pulled him back in. it was only on his second year of being head principal that he met you. painfully beautiful in the gear for the promising verstappen team. his logo over your heart as you followed him like a lost puppy around the paddock. max didn't want to think about the age gap, or the power dynamic or how you were able to bound the stairs so easily while he had a dull throb in his leg from decades of wear and tear.

when he was racing, he thought he had his whole life planned out. but, life never planned out that way. his fellow drivers all got married, moved on and even had families. while max was still finding his comforts on the track. it was why you were such a surprise. max took a gamble on you and it paid off. powerful on the track and a darling in front of the press. you were trained to a t for formula one. smiles and trophies, a beaut for them. max remembered when he saw you for the first time in the fireproof underlayer of your uniform. the 'm' and the 'v' of his logo partially warped due to the size of your breasts. his gaze lingered and made you stand up a little straighter. you swallowed and meekly asked, "does this look alright, mister verstappen?" and max simply replied, "you wear it with pride." as he reached out, testing the waters to rub your shoulder, "continue to wear it with pride." and you, with a big smile nodded happily. he knew you fought like hell to get to where you were, a girl from a small town in the middle of nowhere. no one wanted to sign you, except for max.

it was only about time you two collided into each other. and that started over your car. the pretty black of the vehicle looked lovely against your form as he bent you over it. his hands on the zip of your jeans before he pulled them down to your ankles. he admired your behind before he gave it a slap. you whimpered. when he eventually got the two of you naked enough and sank into your cock. it was like everything clicked together. this what was what he was missing. he held onto you tightly, like you were going slip away from his grasp. he groaned against your skin with his nose in your hair soon after. his cock nudged against some of the softest parts of you. he wouldn't find out till later that you were actually a virgin which only excited max more. oh, you were a virgin? no other man was able to get their hands on you just like no other team in f1 could. you were max's in any way he could get you. he had sex many times, there was no dry spell in his life for pussy. but when he pulled the first orgasm out of you, you having to cover your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut, he knew he was far gone. anything you wanted, he'd give you. except something licked at his brain, wearing verstappen branded gear was hot on you. but wearing his last name like a title only made you more stunning to him. wouldn't be the first time someone his age got with someone who was questionably younger. even though you were an adult, it would still raise a few eyebrows. your voice was strained when you called out for him, "mister verstappen! mister verstappen!" he came back to reality and heard your sweet voice say, "can you slow down, you're going to bruise me." and max almost came right at that moment. instead he slowed down, letting you enjoy this intimate feeling.

when he eventually finished inside of you, your sweaty half-clothed body over the hood of your precious car. he helped you back into your clothes and when you got back up right, you clung to him like a gentle kitten. you even pouted when you said, "you didn't even kiss me, mister verstappen." and he simply chuckled and took you by the chin before he kissed you. he then said, "if you win this weekend there will be more where that came from." max waited for the write up, or the press headline or something the following week. but nothing came, instead max received pictures of you whenever you were apart. speculation did swirl when a photo of you seated on max's thigh while he explained how your free practice went, his hand around your waist. those same hands would be on both hips as he buried his cock into you. your sweet moans echoed in his mind as he took you apart on the bed. you were in the netherlands and he wanted to 'wish you luck' which meant letting the fat tip of his cock nudge against your sweet cervix. after most races you'd whine about body pain in your lower half from how you couldn't sit comfortable due to the damage that max had did. "shouldn't you be going slower, old man!" you whined as he continued to fuck you. you tried to hit his strong back, but years of formula one followed by other trainings post "retirement" left him easy to overpower you. pin you down and take you by the waist. let his cock drool pre cum into your sweet sex. even if you hit and scratched up his back when it all became too much. it felt almost romantic, max's lips against your neck as he thrusted into you. when he wasn't fucking you quickly, he was taking so hard thrusts that made you drool all over the bed. you complained about him being too fast, but now you were going to feel every inch inside of your sore pussy.

you were so eager to please. you wanted to do the team right. max would make sure that you were taken care of. contracts, cars, all of it. you just sign the dotted line and keep looking as beautiful as you were. don't worry that the team branded t-shirts were always a little too tight on you and don't mind that it was max's last name on your track pass. "it was just a printing error." "they think i'm married to you though." "is that a bad thing to think?" "no, sir."

slowly seeding ideas into your head. could you imagine the contract you'd have if you got closer to max verstappen. he'd often hold you in his arms after sex and remark that it had been too long since there was a verstappen on the track. while he enjoyed the position he was in now, he longed for his last name on the podium. you simply cuddled closer to him and let him drag his hand across your thigh, "maybe one day, sir." you smiled, "maybe you'll get lucky and have a child!" while that idea was sweet, he didn't want to cut your career short. not that short at least. for now he'd have to simply put into your mind that while your last name was lovely. his last name would look a lot nicer. as he kissed down your neck, it was a promise. you'd be his super star on the track and his loving wife off of it. <3

a/n: reader is an adult, just with an age gap to raise and eyebrow at.

[harukyuu2]

hii could I request Till, Ivan, and Luka x Ado!reader (the singer) and could you write their reactions to reader singing crime and punishment in the stage with their opponent and after could you make a little scenario after?

(if you haven't heard the song I recommend you to listen to it so you have an idea on what it's about! <3)

ANON WERE SO CONNECTEDD im literally obsessed with that song this month, idk why but here you have it!!

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT !! - Ado!Reader x Till, ivan, luka ♪

!! ⇾ Headcanons more than all, little scenario, fluff, relationship not tagged so you can take it as what you want, weird behaviour for Luka, neutral reader, a little ooc maybe since its my first time actually writting for alnst :x - Small revision !!

◊▸ TILL !!

This man was soo nervous when you got into the stage, he wont tell you directly— but he loves you too much for you to lose.

Now, when the song started with you showing so much emotions. he losed it completely

His eyes couldnt leave your figure, he was already mesmerized by you— but it seems you always find a new way to make him fall more in love

The way you blended so easily screams on the song, showing with them lots of emotions made him want to sing at your side— even if he thinks he isnt at your level, he just loves your voice so much. He didnt even care how your opponent didnt manage to get too much of a line since you stealed it with your screams.

He leaved a relieved sigh when the hologram showed your win, even if it was a clear result. He isnt able to relax a second when youre on stage, he has to keep a watch on you even if he cant do too much about it. he was so mad he couldnt bring his sketchbook to atleast keep this moment in paper instead in only his mind, well— his sketchbook is already full of portraits of you.

⇒ After The Round... Till was waiting for you at the backstage, the first times he did this he felt nervous and all, but right now he just wanted to see you. Actually, he is nervous! but his feelings of admiration and love for you are stronger than that. When he saw your figure emerge alone from the darkness, his heart began to race, and suddenly, the words he had prepared vanished from his mind—replaced only by the tired smile you gave him when you stood face to face. For a moment, silence hung between you two, he was staring at you mesmerized. Then, realizing how strange he must look, he snapped out of it, shaking his head and quickly trying to speak. "H-hey...you did great back there, the way you singed- i liked it a lot, uhm..it was beautiful" - He said pretty nervous rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze a little, you were so bright in his eyes that his heart burned with a simple glance at your face. You were getting used to Till's nervous presence, leaving it up to his struggles with communication after everything he endured back in the garden. Letting out a soft laugh at how he avoided your gaze, you leaned in closer—tilting your head to meet his eyes. Speaking in a low, reassuring tone, you tried to ease his nerves. - "Thank you, Till. Thanks for being there for me."

Your gazes met, and with a gentle smile, you wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug, your head resting in his chest to feel his heartbeat. You understood how much he struggled to stay obedient to the aliens, so the fact that he did it just to watch you sing on stage filled your heart with warmth.

At first, Till didnt know how to reciprocate correctly the hug and just tensed his body at your touch— he sighed, knowing you were probably hearing his heartbeat, so with shaking hands and feeling his cheeks warm up, he hugged you back lightly, scared of hurting you since in his eyes you were so delicated and perfect... Seeing the figure of an alien emerge in the darkness behind you, his grip on you tightened— the hug was more important even if he would be punished after for being with you alone. Lowering his head to your shoulder, he whispered to you with a shaking voice, not really wanting to let go "Can we sing together someday...?" ◊▸ IVAN !!

This guy had a pretty calm expression, he believed in you— no, better said he knows youre better than your opponent.

If youre able to make him feel emotions he wasnt able to feel before with your voice, its obvious youre gonna win to that normal guy!

Obviously, a part of him was worried for you, but not that much since its not the first time he hears you sing. He loved to spy on you in the garden and you always had such a beautiful voice that gived him weird goosebumps

He was so captivated by your voice, the way you controlled it, the mix of emotions you putted in it, your facial expressions...he wanted to be the reason for you to show all of that, he wanted to be the reason you express like that, he wanted your attention.

The result of the round flashed on the hologram. A part of him was relieved—he’d get to spend more time with you. But another part couldnt ignore the sadness creeping in, you werent singing anymore, and he loved studying your expressions when you did. It drove him crazy how you seemed to pour everything into the raw emotions behind your screams and vocals, completely ignoring the fear in your opponent's eyes or even the outcome of the battle itself. ⇒ After The Round...

Thanks to your huge win in the stage, your guardian gived you a gift— the freedom of running into the rooftop of their agency to look at the night sky for today. Not an artificial sky or the ceiling of your room, the real one that inspired you to keep going until you were able to escape. Feeling the air hit your face, you taked a deep breath finally outside of the stage. Looking at the sky in a deep silence that soothed the fear of dying... Until you got interrupted by something or better said someone grabbing your shoulders - "Hello!" - You heared Ivan say making you leave a scared yelp "Ivan-! dont do that! imagine if i falled out!" - You said with a small frown since you were almost in the edge of the roof, as always, he dismissed what you said with a small laugh— walking more into your side. He was here since he conviced Unsha to make a negotiation with your guardian or something, just to promote the two genuises of garden ANAKT. "You did great on the stage, i loved those strong moments you had singing, were you mad at something?" - Ivan ask with his usual mischevious smile patting your head, the calm surrounding hitting you both even if he was trying to be playfull Hearing his words, you sighed, resting your weight slightly on his arm. Almost instinctively, he wrapped it around you, holding you close. "No, no… I just thought it would’ve sounded better if I put more emotion into it," you murmured softly. "Ah, I was also a little worried he’d sing over me since he’s known for interrupting his opponents—but thats all." You spoke casually, remembering how you felt on the stage, but Ivan was quick to reassure you that your interruptions with the high notes and all blended perfectly into the song The moment between you two was silent again, with him caressing your shoulder slightly before breaking it again with a small mix of playfulness and sweetness: "Lets stay like this for a moment, i promise to not push you.." ◊▸ LUKA !!

Talking honestly?? i dont think this man would be on the public tbh... But because Heperu doesnt want his star pet to be around common pets even if its to watch a show! He would probably watch you through a screen tho

even if his face doesnt show any emotions he would probably like your voice, a part of him softens slightly for you even if its unnoticeable

Unconsciously, he would start humming the song, trying to mimic the strength of your vocals and wondering if he could reach that scream you did.

Pretty calm about the situation tbh, he was trained to take death as normal and always try to win. So he expects the same for you, he prefers you winning tho more than taking your death normally

Im sorry but from these three he lacks a lot of reaction !! He loves you...in his own weird way!

⇒ After The Round... Luka waited for you in his asigned room, it was normal for you two to meet after the rounds since it bringed hype to the aliens that the "Ruler of the stage" and the possibly new ruler spended time together. Obviously, that bringed a lot of money to your guardians, so its a little treat of them for you two! You entered Luka's room tiredly and he standed up when he felt your presence in the door, walking closer to you. His usual calm and blunt expression bored into you while you wondered what he was thinking about since he usually waits for you to get to his side He grabbed your hand, making your breath hitch as you tensed up, only to be caught off guard when he suddenly decided to bite one of your fingers. You raised an eyebrow in confusion but let out a small laugh, feeling your mood lift slightly. 'Eeeh? Luka, are you perhaps hungry...?' you asked softly, mindful of your voice after such an intense performance Luka taked your finger out of his mouth before looking directly at you, continuing to grab your hand he decided to give you a quick response- "mhm...maybe, can i be hungry of you too?" - He asked like it was a normal question, even if it flustered you a little he didnt seem to care since he meant it in a literal way Sitting on the couch with him, he placed his head on your lap, still holding your hand tightly as he guided it to rest on his head, closing his eyes calmly. Wait a second—werent you the one who won the round? So why is he the one getting the pats?? You sighed in defeat, knowing there was no way to win an argument like that against Luka. He knew all too well that you’d end up spoiling him anyway "Stay like that for now...and move your hand, i let you."

[heartmix]

girl he's taking home - mv1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader, Charles Leclerc x ex-situationship!reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warning: angst, but happy ending. not my favorite ending but i didnt know how else to end it

A/N: wasn't going to do a part 2 to 'girl you're taking home' but the lovely @lilorose25 gave me an idea. I meant to get this out last week, but work happened. Hope you enjoy this!

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

If you were to ask yourself six months ago how you felt about the new season, you would have responded with dread, not looking forward to anything. The way Monza ended and the 2024 season ended in general did not benefit you emotionally. If you weren't living your dream right now, you would have definitely walked away. 

Having to continue and move on with Charles as his race engineer was harder than you thought. You could keep it professional, knowing how high-stakes this job was. The only mishap was being with Charles. 

The team noticed a change after that night. They expected him to be on a high in the following races but were met with the opposite. He didn't want to talk to anyone unless it involved racing. He spent most of his free time locked away in his driver's room or hanging out with Carlos. Even Carlos had a hard time trying to get Charles back to his old self. 

Soon, the headlines ran wild about his breakup with his girlfriend, the perfect excuse for his mood. No one batted an eye anymore, figuring he was just torn up. He was also fighting for second place in the WDC and first place for Ferrari in the WCC. The Prince of Ferrari had every excuse in the book at his disposal. 

You, on the other hand, distanced yourself as far as possible from the driver. Free times were spent with other engineers, going out for drinks after a team win was spent with the social media team and if you had extra time beyond that it was spent with Carlos with his last few races with the team. If you were in a bad mood everyone chalked it up to having to deal with a moody driver. An excuse was an excuse. 

When the season came to an end, you were beyond relieved. You didn't want to see a track or anyone from work till it was pre-season training. Distancing yourself from anything that reminded you of Charles was what you needed. 

Thankfully, with the new season and Lewis's arrival, you were busy making sure everything was perfect. Him personally requesting you sent you over the moon and you did everything to give your attention to him. From his first suit-up in red to pre-season training, you managed to avoid Charles, magically. It was hard since you had to work just in the other garage, but somehow, you made it work until the first race of the season. 

The paddock was roaring for the new season. Excited to see all the new rookies, all the new line-up changes, and Lewis in Ferrari red. This was the most anticipated season in ages. 

In the short time you had before you were needed back in the garage, you wandered around the paddock hoping to bump into a familiar face. There was a small chance you'd get to see him, but if it was for just a minute, you'd take it. 

While maneuvering your way through the crowd, it was going to be impossible to find him, but as fate would have it you bumped into the last person you wanted to see. 

"I'm so sorry." He apologized before he realized who it was. He stood there stunned for a second, taking you in. One would have thought he'd seen a ghost.

"Hi Charles," you smiled politely, wanting to be anywhere but in the middle of the paddock talking to him, where everyone could see. 

Anyone with a pair of eyes could see it was an awkward interaction. The better part of two years you've spent as his engineer and were as close as ever. When the news of you switching to team 44 broke out, there was speculation, but the public chalked it up to being part of Lewis' contract. It was no secret Lewis loved to shine the light on females in this industry. 

"Hi, um how are you? I haven't been able to see you at all in Maranello." He looked like he was forced to meet your eyes. Switching his weight to each leg and his hands fidgeting with the hem of his kit. 

Your response was curt and sharp, "That was the goal."

"I just wanted to apologize. I was selfish and wanted everything. I wanted the best of both worlds but realized you were the one for me. You were the only one I wanted to be around. I don't even know why I entertained the thought of another girl. I love you, and I'm sorry." Half a year ago you would have been over the moon hearing all of this, but now you wanted nothing to do with him and have him disappear.

"Charles, what did you want out of this?" A harsh tone slipped from your lips. You didn't mean for it to sound like that but you couldn't help it. After all the emotional damage he put you through you weren't about to cave in. 

"I just really needed to tell you this and to let you know that maybe we ca-" Before he could even finish his sentence you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders. At this, you couldn't help but smile, about time he showed up.

"Charles." His tone was calm but stern, setting the tone of his intention. 

"Max?" Charles was shocked, looking in between the both of you. The way you melted into his arms, the smile that replaced the scroll in a second. Charles also knew Max enough to know when he was protective and when he wanted to get a point across. You were his point. 

Max knew everything that had happened between the two of you. He was the one who caught you walking back to the hotel with tears in your eyes on that Sunday night in Monza—the one who let you vent about the situation. You were too emotional to even think about how bad it looked to dish out your affair to Charles' friend and another driver, no less. You haven't even had a proper conversation with the Red Bull driver, just being in his presence when he would talk to Charles. You expected him to degrade you and look at you in disgust. Instead, he did the opposite. He reassured your feelings, told you some not-so-good choices of his own, and made sure you weren't alone.  

Since then, you've built a small friendship. He checked up here and there to make sure you were okay. You send him a good luck text before every race. When he was declared 4-time champion in Vegas he invited you out to celebrate. How could you turn that down, especially with the drama that came out of that grand prix? After many gin and tonics, you don't remember much besides waking up in his hotel room. 

You were fully prepared for him to throw you out, never wanting to talk to you again, but were surprised that he didn't regret anything, that he wanted you to stay. There were, of course, reservations on your part. If you went through another incident, you weren't sure you could convince yourself to stay at the job you loved. 

Max, being the ever-understanding man that he was, told you to think about it, but he wasn't going to give you space. He wanted to continue going out with you and spending time with you. There would be no embarrassment being around you and couldn't care about the stories the media would spin. He didn't define you about what you did with your past relationship, he only cared about a possible future one with you. 

"If you don't mind, I'd like to take my girl for lunch with the little free time we have." He gave a tight-lipped smile, leaving no room for questions. 

"Oh, yeah, yeah, of course." What else was Charles supposed to say? No? You weren't his, not anymore, not really ever. Just a minute ago, he wasn't above begging for you to take him back, but how could he do that to you, seeing how happy his friend made you? At the end of the day, he still cared for you and wanted what was best. If that was Max, he would come to accept it. 

"See you on the track Charles." Max bid a farewell before turning the both of you in the opposite direction. 

"Took you long enough." You teased, being met with soft laughter. 

"Sorry schatje, next time I'll get you from Ferrari." 

"And have rumors about you moving to Ferrari? Horner would kill me." You could only handle so much news for this season. The cameras flash, capturing you and him walking together was enough to deal with. You couldn't imagine what both of your teams would think. 

"Not before I kill him."

Smiling at his serious intention despite the playfulness undertone, how could you ask for a better guy, "So romantic, Mr. Verstappen." 

"Only for you." At that moment, he leaned down for a kiss. Well, cat is definitely out of the bag. 

[mywritersmind]

GOOD SIDE - FC43

summary : She hates him, he’s intrigued and doesn’t understand why anyone would distlike him. Franco tries to win Charles’ sister over with coffee and good racing.

listen up : no warnings!! my first franco fic <3

word count : 1067

⋆｡‧˚⋆

All eyes have been on Franco Colapinto for the past three weeks. All eyes including mine.

I watch the boy walk across the pit lane, grinning widely at his team. My arms are crossed in the ferrari garage, Charles is talking my ear off but I'm not even listening.

I miss my paddock best friend. All the boys on the grid are like my brothers, but Logan was genuinely my friend. I didn’t even go to Monza and fucked myself while boycotting because I missed my brother win.

I watch the team embrace the boy. I never realized how young he looks until now. He’s a year older than me, found that out when I was stalking his social media.

Charles noticed my stink eye and nudges me, “He’s a good kid. Don’t be mean!” I know Logan wasn’t performing well. I’m not blind.

But I can’t help but be salty for him.

“I won’t be mean.” I turn to see Alex and Franco walking towards us, I try to walk away but the hoodie for my sweatshirt is grabbed by Charles and I'm yanked backwards.

“Franco, This is my baby sister, Y/n!” Charles swings his arm around me, I roll my eyes and look back at Franco.

He’s cute and as he smiles at me I have a weird feeling that I need to make it stop. I turn to my new favorite william’s boy.

“Alex!” I smile wide and I can see my brother eyeing me already, “Nice Quali! Proud of you.”

He nods, “Appreciate it Y/n.” He glances at Franco, forcing me to say something. I give them what they want and look at him.

“Colapinto, is it?” I blink. “You’ve got an interesting driving style.”

Franco’s smile doesn’t falter. “Interesting enough to earn me P9.” My eyes narrow at him, “Nice to know you were watching me.”

I cross my arms but before I can say more, Charles interrupts me.

He laughs loudly, trying to drown out my voice, “Alright! Don't mind her, Franco, she’s been a little salty recently- well actually she’s always like this.” He shakes his head and leads the men in blue away.

Franco looks back at me as Alex starts talking rapidly, and I swear I’m hallucinating because I think he winks.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m sitting on the pit wall, Susie is talking me through all the little buttons and graphs. Even though I'm Ferrari till I die, Susie is like family and has always been there for me. I feel an unexpected tap on my shoulder which makes me whip around.

I look down to see Franco holding two cups of coffee. “Morning Mrs. Wolff!” He smiles at Susie, then me. I didn’t even know he met her. My eyebrow is already raised, “Mind if I borrow Y/n?”

Susie laughs softly, looking at him then me, “Go ahead.” I get off the chair slowly and he motions for me to take the cup.

“Charles mentioned you liked coffee.” I hesitate for a second, taking the cup. I sip it and mentally groan because I’ve been needing to get some today.

“Buying my affection already, Huh?” I glance at him as we walk down the pit lane. I'm wearing a short, flowy, white dress and a Ferrari cap, happy since it's so hot.

“Don’t be silly, This was free.” I sip my coffee to stop myself from laughing, “I do have to get on your good side somehow.”

I look away from him, “You took my best friend's seat.”

“He lost it.” When I look back at him, he’s already looking at me.

I sigh and keep walking, he catches up quickly, “So… You’re Charles’ Sister.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder, “You’re sherlock?”

“You’re pretty.”

I let out a dry laugh, “You’re straightforward. I’ve seen three interviews of you flirting and you haven’t even made it to your second race yet.” He laughs and it makes me feel good that I made him do that.

“What can I say? The people love me.” He shrugs and it's my turn to laugh now.

“I’m sure your media crew hates you.”

“I can confirm they definitely do.” He stops when he gets to his garage, “I don’t want you too though.”

I take a breath, “Let’s see how you do in the race and we’ll see.” I hear someone yell his name from inside the garage.

He doesn’t move, “You base all your relationships off of driving results?”

“Relationships?” I scoff as he licks his lips, “Don’t get too cocky now.”

Franco shakes his head, a curl falling into his face, “Not cocky. Just a glass half full type of guy.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I hug Oscar as he walks out of his garage at the end of the day, “You fucking rocked it.” He laughs as I pull back, “Seriously, I'm proud and you beat my brother!”

Charles practically spawns, “We all know your loyalty is not to me.” All the boys have changed and are starting to leave. Carlos disappeared after crashing on the second to last lap but all I can do is smile for Lando who got bumped up to fourth.

Speaking of, Lando joins us with Franco by his side, his mouth running per usual. Everyone starts talking and congratulating Oscar again.

I find Franco by my side, he leans in slightly, “My result good enough for you?”

I look up at the sky, “Pretty good. I hate to say it but… you did well.”

He grins, “Well enough to get your number?”

I look to my brother to make sure he isn’t listening, “You’re playing with fire here, Colapinto.”

“Burn me.” He says it so quick that I almost don’t register the look on his face. He looks at me so genuinely with those hazel eyes and speaks again, “Por Favor? s'il te plaît? Please?”

The ‘Please’s’ makes me laugh. One in Spanish, one in French, and one in English to cover all his bases, “You’re such a flirt.”

“For you.”

“Don’t lie. You flirt with everyone.” I give him a look, he pulls a slow smile.

“If you were mine I'd never look at anyone else again.” Oddly enough, I believe him.

“If I were yours?” I step closer and he nods, “Hm… If I were yours- I think we would see pigs flying.”

He just grins, “I can arrange that.”

[wcters]

𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗩𝗘𝗚𝗔𝗦 𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛 𝗢𝗨𝗧

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!sainz!reader

word count: 1.3k+

summary: dating charles while he raced with your brother was complicated, but is even more complicated after the events of the las vegas grand prix

request: i cant stop thinking about the charles & carlos drama from vegas. would you be able to write an angst/fluff charles x sainz!reader fic where charles kinda lashes out on reader bec hes so angry at carlos. then they make up so some fluff in the end ,, thank you!

warnings: swearing, fighting (mostly charles being a dick, sorry), angst, fluff at the end, established relationships | sorry it’s so late, school and christmas has kept me busy 😔 i don’t think i can wait till march, and the way the eras tour ended the same day as the f1 season did had me sobbing 😭 i used translate for the spanish and french so if it’s wrong, please correct me, anyway, hope this is what you pictured !!!

For the first part of the race, you completely thought Charles had a chance of winning the race ━━ having moved from fourth to second ━━ but after the failed pass on George, you knew he was going to be upset. You also knew that he was going to be upset at your brother for overtaking him and getting podium when he was told not to. It was hard to be proud of your brother for getting podium while also mad at him for doing that to your boyfriend.

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Charles, but it didn’t make situations like these any better. Both would feel betrayed no matter what you did, and that hurt because you loved them both. Carlos was your big brother, the man who introduced you to this sport and your love for it. The man who always supported you with your school work and degree, and doing whatever made you happy. Charles was your boyfriend, the man who you came home to every night and had conversations in the middle of the night with. The man who you imagined your future with: dancing in the kitchen, kids, what you’ve wanted ever since you were a kid. It was complicated, and it got even more complicated after you found out Carlos was traded to Williams.

You knew he was incredibly upset when he wouldn’t answer Bryan’s call for him over the radio. Then the whole speech happened and when he wouldn’t stop even after Fred hinted at it, that’s when you were called in with a desperate look from the two. “Charles, miel, you did what you needed to. You did the right thing. We’re so proud of you, mi amor. You can talk about it when you get back. I love you.” Bryan and Fred thanked you with a look and nodded, walking over to them once the radio was off.

“He’ll be fine, it might just take awhile.” They told you as you crossed your arms. “I know, it’s just unfortunate. If he asks, just tell him I’ll be back after the podium. If he lashes out at you, let me know. It’s not your fault,” you told them, rubbing their shoulders. “Thank you, chéri.” Fred thanked you. You just nodded and started to make your way to the podium with the rest of the Ferrari staff. You knew Charles would be salty that you were there, but he needed some time to himself before he talked to people. Especially before media.

The podium celebration was like the rest of them, besides the worry building up in your stomach. You were so proud of your brother for how he did this race, especially since he’s leaving at the end of the season, but you were worried about Charles as well. You know what he’s like, and you know how competitive he is. It just hurt that you can’t be in two places at once right now. You were thankful no champagne got on you ━━ no matter how hard your brother tried ━━ so when you finally got to Charles you weren’t rubbing it in even more.

You chatted with Bryan and Fred, as well as a couple more people before finally making your way to Charles’ driver room. You knocked first before calling his name. “Not right now Bryan, please.” “It’s me. Can I come in?” It was silent before the door opened and there stood Charles, eyes filed with anger and face filled with disappointment. “Oh cariño,” you sighed, pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around you before you let him go and he sat back down on the couch in his room. “He always does this. Always.” He spoke up, his accent more noticeable as he got more upset. “Does what?” You asked softly, not trying to rile him up. Apparently that was the wrong move.

He rolled his eyes, “you know what.” You stayed silent. You had never felt this before, unwelcome. You didn’t know what to do. Charles was your boyfriend, but Carlos was your brother. “He did something wrong tonight, I know ━━“ “It’s not just tonight. Dieu, Y/n, why do you always stand up for him.” The anger in his voice was evident. “Excuse me?,” the shock displayed in your face, and in your voice. “You always do this. Always standing up for him and downplaying things he’s done wrong.”

At this point, you were tired of this conversation. Your boyfriend was gone to a point that nothing but some time would help him come down from his high. “I’m not talking about this.” You said, making your way to the door. “Yeah, go ahead, go to him.” You turned slowly. “Do not lash out at me because of something my brother did. I agreed with you, and you shut me out. Yes, he did something wrong, but it was him. Not me. I don’t deserve that. Now, I’m leaving and you better get yourself together before you do media because we all know you’ll regret what you’ll say when you’re angry tomorrow. I’ll see you when we leave.”

As the sounds of you walking away started to fade, Charles put his head in his hands. He knew you were right, but at this moment he was too filled with a mix of emotions that he knew he couldn’t work it out right now.

The car ride was filled with uncomfortable silence as you made your way back to your apartment. You could see the way that Charles’ hands gripped the steering wheel and how he refrained from putting his hand on your thigh like he usually did. You hadn’t talked after he lashed out at you. You understood he was frustrated, but you didn’t deserve for that to be put on you. That’s why you didn’t start a fight. You knew that he was upset and disappointed, so instead of trying to figure it out then, you saved him the stress ━━ and time ━━ and waited for him to apologize.

It stayed as you headed up to your apartment: in the elevator, as you opened the door, and as you started to come down from the race. You were the first one to speak. “You want water?” Although you were mad at him, you still cared and wanted to make sure he was okay. “No, thank you.” His voice was firm. You took a glance at him before getting your water and setting up on the couch. Charles probably wanted a shower, so you didn’t expect his shadow to fill your eye-line and for him to sit down next to you. “I’m sorry.” You paused the show you had put on as you faced him.

“I’m sorry. I was upset, but had no right to take it out on you. I’ve made a lot of mistakes tonight, that being one of them. I made a promise to you and your brother that I would never hurt you, and I know I slipped up tonight,but I intend to keep it that way. You are not your brother, and I know that he’s important to you as well as me. I should’ve apologized right away. I truly am sorry, miel.” He finally looked to face you. You grabbed his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“I know. I know you are. I understand why you didn’t. That’s why I didn’t start a fight and left you alone. I didn’t deserve that and I’m glad that you are acknowledging that. It’s over now. We’ve apologized, we understood what we did wrong. Let’s just go to bed and if we need to, talk about it more tomorrow. Okay, amor?” You smiled at him. He nodded and smiled as you went to hold his face in your hands. You kissed him softly on the lips before you got up and held out your hand.

“Come on. I’m tired and our bed is calling our name. Plus, I deserve some cuddles after today.”

[threecheers-forsweetrevenge]

simi bits during 2010-2011

I still hope that this wasn’t Kimi final choice, Sebastian on Kimi leaving f1 in 2010.

“Who is your best friend in F1?” “Unfortunately he isnt driving anymore in F1. Kimi Räikkönen is my best friend.”

Kimi Raikkonen on who he thinks will win the F1 World Championship in 2010.

So does the Finn think 23-year-old Vettel is ready to win the 2010 title?

“I think so. But mostly he’s just the nicest guy of them all,” said Raikkonen.  

Seb said he was inspired by Kimi’s championship to win his first one in 2010

“I haven't got that much experience but a good example is probably looking two years back, you know, three, four races to go, no-one had Kimi to win the championship. And in the end he did it by one point. So as long as it is possible I will fight till my last breath.”

"I was actually thinking about Kimi situation today, no one thought it was possible. He proves us wrong but the circumstances were special, same as today" – Vettel took inspiration from Kimi 2007 title comeback"I was actually thinking about Kimi situation today, no one thought it was possible. He proves us wrong but the circumstances were special, same as today"

Let's not forget about Kimi's brain going instanly to Seb when a Sebastian is mentioned

Seb mentioning him at every possible moment

Matching bikes..

Simi fans in 2010

[snoopychris]

introducing... hockeyplayer!matt and figureskater!reader

warnings: unprotected sex (please do not do this.), p in v, blackmail if you squint, matt's competitive

in which... matt needs to blow off steam but you never let him

the first time matt laid eyes on you he was hooked. he wasn’t sure if it was your general presence or the short skirt that you had been wearing, but he was hooked. the first encounter he had with you was months ago, but somehow you’re still one of the only things that circles through his mind. he feels like he just keeps seeing you everywhere. if he goes to the grocery store you’re there. if he goes to the car wash he swears that it’s always your car thats in front of his. if he goes to get a cup of coffee, your name is plastered on somebody else’s cup. he can’t stand it. he hates just how much youre stuck in his head. he wishes so badly that he could just go to the ice rink and blow off some steam without you being there, but as you once told him during a heated argument, theres enough room on the ice for the both of you. 

matt takes a deep breath and focuses on the shot hes trying to make from halfway across the rink, only stopping to look up at you with a frustrated expression on his face. “what d’ya want now?” he spits, noticing your stare. you let out a small scoff before dangling a pair of keys in his face. “well it’s 11:30 and i was supposed to lock up after the last skaters left at 11. you gotta leave.” he lets out a groan at your words, hitting the puck towards the goal. it just barely misses, ricocheting off the pole. you giggle at the miss, stopping instantly when you notice matt’s expression. “s’not fucking funny. and mike said i could stay till midnight.” you shrug as you move to the side when he exits the rink, tilting your head. “it’s a little funny. goin to college on a hockey scholarship and you cant even make a goal… bet i could even beat you across the rink.” matt’s eyes widen at your proposition, noticing the keys still in your hand. his tongue prods his inner cheek as he speaks up. “if i win you give me the keys and i leave whenever i want.” you consider his proposition for a moment before grabbing your skates from the bag besides you, slipping them onto your feet carefully. upon beginning the race, you realized just how rigged it was against you. his legs were so much longer than yours and your skates were made for spinning in circles gracefully, not tackling people to the ground. the only time you had an upper hand was at the start when your skirt flew up and matt got a peek at the lacy pink panties that matched your leg warmers. you let out a gasp the second you lose, climbing out of the rink and setting the keys in matt’s palm. as you gather your stuff to leave, matt lets out a set of tsks. you bite your lips anxiously as you wait for him to speak, receiving a smirk in response.  “i wanna change my prize.” 

11:49 pm and you still hadn’t locked up the rink. matt had an extra ten minutes allowed to him by your manager, meaning that you had 10 more minutes bent over the metal bench while matt continuously pounded in and out of you. his hand gripped your chin from behind while covering your mouth to muffle any sounds you were making, your previously perfect makeup streaming down your face. matt leans down to speak right beside your ear, nipping your earlobe. “youre all talk princess… acting like youre so much better than me on the ice when all it takes is a little bit of dick to make you fall apart. better see you at my next game wearing my number… or i could always tell your boss that this is what you’re doing in the building when you shouldve locked up by now.” 

Taglist : @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmattatt @m11rxx @chris-hallelujah @mattsbrat

a/n: hey guys... how yall doin... i dont remember the last time i wrote any sort of smut. take what you can get with me for now. love you all kiss kiss! reply or message me if u wanna be on my taglist for this au or my taglist in general! kiss kiss! - gen

[satoruhour]

Need sukuna in racer au 😩

REWARDS FROM A RACER

a/n: more of smut than him being a racer …. im not opposed to doing a ‘how they met’ ngl

wc: 2.1k

warnings: ooc sukuna, dom!sukuna, lewd declarations in public, he’s a little mean and calls you ‘whore’, ‘slut’, praise, degradation, pet names, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (m! receiving), light face-fucking, unprotected sex, riding, p → v penetration, clit stimulation, dash of daddy kink, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“doll, c’mon, we don’t have much time till the race starts.” 

“i know, ’kuna! give me a minute, ’m just tightening the screws on the crankshaft.” you already hear the joke from miles away, a soft chuckle comes after he mumbles “heh, shaft” and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while stifling a smile. it seems like sukuna had enough of waiting for you in the driver’s seat, so he meets you at the front of the car where the hood is popped.

if anyone told you sukuna was someone who would’ve made time for anyone else but himself, you would laugh in their face because when had ryomen “king of curses” sukuna ever thought about anyone but himself? he had all that he could have: a ’66 Ford GT40 (that he named king of curses — a tad bit goofy, he knows), girls on his arm, first place for every race he took part in. he was untouchable.

but during a night in the midst of a drag race he saw you outside a club, barely catching a glimpse of you shoving off a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. he wasn’t surprised to see kenjaku — another racer from another region and someone who he had an infamous rival with — laugh when he had come to your rescue, cut off when the king of curses landed a clean hit to the other’s face. sukuna made sure you were okay after the whole debacle, but he also fucked you silly to show you how a man should really be treating you.

it was the only race he ever lost.

“sometimes i forget how much shit you put up with when you’re with me,” sukuna grins, a sneaky hand moving from your waist to your ass to squeeze it, “fixing my engine like an obedient little girl.”

you simply turn to him with a bored expression, but you can’t deny the throb between your legs when he talks to you like that, “glad you’re self aware, ’kuna.”

“smart mouth you have there, hm?” sukuna pulls you even closer against his front and you can already feel the half-hard bulge there. he’s always hard before a race, too. that you know, because it’s an emerging characteristic of his that you’re not opposed to because sukuna ends up pounding into you in his driver’s seat once the race is finished. he just can’t help the adrenaline, can’t he?

“guess i’ll just have to ruin you,” sukuna cuts off your next reply with a messy kiss, swallowing the soft moans that leave your mouth at the temporary relief you’re getting from grinding on him, “later.”

you scoff, feigning annoyance, “yeah, yeah, i know. you never miss a race.”

sukuna just smiles, smacking your ass slyly and makes his way to the driver’s seat before you have time to gasp, simply raising an eyebrow (“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?”) when you slap his chest later in the passenger seat.

“oh god, he’s going to do that thing again right?” beside you are the other more prominent racers of tokyo, the famous four excluding sukuna. gojo is the one who asked the question, nudging you with a grin that’s got you groaning into your hands. slowly, you nod.

across from you is sukuna in his Ford GT40, shouting with his windows rolled down, “i’m gonna fuck you so good after i win this race, princess!” and while you’re turned on at the prospect, you’re also wincing at how everyone whoops and cheers because he does this in every race. it never gets old, though, just as the laughter of the other four floods your ears.

“do you really have to scream it every time?” you lean down to the window once the two cars are at the starting line, running a hand through his mildly sweaty locks. his perspiration is a little pink from the dye he’s used to top up the colour of his hair and you jokingly wipe your wet hands on his top.

sukuna grabs your wrist, pulling you gently to give you a noisy, sloppy kiss, his words whispered against your lips, “they have to know how you scream every night.”

you tsk with a laugh, hand reaching down to palm his dick that makes him grunt, “give ’em hell, baby.”

and he definitely makes the other wish he never was born. sukuna likes to play dirty, bumping into the rear of the other when he’s behind, sending a middle finger to the racer when he passes him, it’s part of why your boyfriend tends to prefer solitude because he’s not on everyone’s good side.

with skidding tires, sukuna finishes with a dashing grin, but he’s so focused on you that he doesn’t realise the crowd around him, some reaching forward to congratulate him, others wanting to touch his car. the racer barks out before anyone can violate his ride.

“oi, you fuckin’ idiots dare touch my car and i swear i’ll fuck up yours.”

beside you, geto mutters out a yeesh while gojo just giggles, patting your shoulder before you bid goodbye to the famous four. the crowd makes way for you, naturally, when you walk towards his car, because what kind of mental person willingly dates sukuna? they follow your figure as you make your way to him, swaying your hips for everyone to see, but you hardly care when all you can fixate on is his promise to you before every race starts.

and all he does that night is fulfil his promise, whisking you away from the cramped parking lot and into the late tokyo roads, whizzing past street lamps and cop cars and howling at the top of his voice. he loves it, he loves you and you see it every time he drives you home after a late night race and every time he noisily drives up to you when someone’s bothering you.

sukuna loves your body, too, because all you know later on is his cock in your mouth on a quiet, remote mountain used for drifting. with the winter season approaching, it was desolate, except for the way your head bobs up and down on his length, which hardens even more inside your mouth.

“that’s it, fuckkk yes.” sukuna groans, a hand clutching onto the leather of his seat while the other finds purchase in your hair, pulling on your locks till it hurts. with his hips moving erratically paired with the soreness in your jaw, it’s really the only thing you can concentrate on in an awkward position while hovering over the stick shift. “suck like the dirty cockslut you are.”

“’kuna, mmfhh—!” your hands rush to find his thighs on a particularly deep thrust, tip hitting the back of your throat and you look up at sukuna through teary lashes and breathe through your nose before he lets you off briefly. but your mouth is too warm just like how your pussy feels and sukuna forces your head onto him again.

sukuna groans when he lets you do your own thing, mouth taking half of him while your hands help you with the other, alternating between taking sucking the bottom of his cock and lapping at his tip, continuing to flutter your lashes at him.

“stick out your tongue f’me, doll,” he manages to choke out a moan, grabbing his cock to slap it on your tongue (it’s so heavy that you moan), making lewd sounds before he starts thrusting again, feeling every inch of your mouth with no time to warn you of his impending orgasm until the car is filled with his incessant groans and grunts, hips faltering at how your mouth just keeps sucking. “fuck— i’m cumming.” sukuna spills unexpectedly, shooting his cum deep down your throat and you moan around his shaft. he’s not laughing now, focused solely on getting every last bit of cum into your system as he tilts his head back in utmost pleasure. 

“take all of it,” his movements slow down, admiring how you look like you worship him with a lax mouth and pleading eyes, and he knows you do, but before that he’s ensuring you know that his worship of you overtakes yours by miles, pulling you impatiently to his seat before dragging your panties to the side. the other likes it when you wear skirts, easy access he says, licking his lips in anticipation when he sees how the fabric sticks to your cunt from how wet you were, leaving a string of arousal that snaps once it’s far enough.

“well? what’re you waiting for?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle leaving him when you mumble out a i’m getting to it! as you gather the slick leaking from your needy pussy. the feel of his mushroom tip against your clit is gratifying and you line him up before sinking down slowly. even after taking him multiple times, his size always makes your eyes widen and jaw drop at the stretch, incoherent whimpers leaving as he watches you take all nine inches of him.

“s’kuna, f-fuck…” you wrap your arms around his neck, suddenly shy at being so spread open for him to see, “s’big, you’re so big!” he hums, pressing little kisses down the side of your face while kneading your ass, plush thighs nestled around his pelvis so cutely that he appreciates your brief pause before you start riding him — because he can’t resist cumming when he sees you crying on top of him, trying his best to prolong the way you feel around him.

“i know i’m big, but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?” sukuna coos, holding your eyes that struggle to stay open as you bounce on his thick cock, ass meeting his hips in noisy pap’s as you flood his car with whining pleas of him filling you to the brim. there’s a white ring of pre-cum at the base of his shaft where your juices mix, dripping down the hilt and onto his balls, definitely soaking his leather seats. “just a whore for me to fuck stupid, yea?”

you nod frantically, babbling to no one as you throw your head back, pussy clenching when his lips meet your tits and he sucks hard on your nipples, flicking his tongue around your buds before moving to the other. “got so t-tight from me doing that,” sukuna laughs, wrapping a hand ’round your chin to force you to look at him. lips pursed, eyes blown wide from his cock in your cunt, hair sticking to your forehead, he swear he could cum deep in you right there and then.

“you love how i stretch you out?” he then yanks your head down to make you watch how your pelvis meets his, juices spurting in all directions by how wet you were. it truly was a sight, how his cock disappears into you and reappears, thighs burning from how fast you were bouncing on him.

“love it s’much, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you grab his free hand, bringing it to your neglected clit that’s been throbbing all night, “but i n-need you here, s’kuna…” and when he starts to rub circles into your puffy clit, you jolt at the feeling, screaming out obscenities at the sensations that overwhelm your body. he knows you’re getting tired and close, too.

so he shocks you by thrusting up, your body immediately halting to receive the way he rails into you and while your muscles are still cramping, it’s infinitely better than riding him. with his thrusts and his hand on your clit, you can already feel the coil in your stomach turning as your body slumps against him, “daddy!”’s spilling from your lips with mixed wanton moans. “that’s it, a good little slut who’s taking daddy’s cock, fuck—”

“so warm, and tight,” within seconds, his thrusts are irregular when you start to clench around him again, high-pitched whines filling his ears before you reach your high with a slack jaw and trembling thighs, body lined with sweat. but it’s the way your cum leaks down his length that gets sukuna releasing after you, the familiar pleas of wanting his cum deep in your cunt. he does just that, grunting into your neck when his hips thrust deeply before he releases his hot, thick semen into your pussy, gushing out because there’s just so much.

“love it when i breed my girl,” he mutters with a laugh breathlessly while you’re moaning softly at how he’s still spilling into you, overflowing cum leaking from your cunt even when he’s still inside. sukuna grins when your hips never really stop, still continuing to grind aimlessly.

“love my sweet girl who can’t think of anything but getting fucked stupid.”

[batboyblog]

Happy 100th Birthday to President Jimmy Carter

Born October 1st 1924

Carter was America's 39th President serving from 1977 till 1981. President Carter is notable for many reasons, the first American President to oversee a Middle East peace deal ending 30 years of war between Egypt and Israel, the first President to address climate change, and established the Departments of Education and Energy. After his 1980 defeat by Republican Ronald Reagan Carter would redefine what it is a former President is supposed to do. His 40 years out of office saw the Carters work tirelessly on humanitarian projects around the world. Carter worked with Habitat for Humanity to build houses for those in need across America well into his 90s. Carter also worked to combat decease in the developing world particularly Africa. President Carter once said he wanted only to live long enough to outlive the last Guinea worm, a goal he may have reached, when the Carter Center started its work in 1986 there were 3.5 million cases, so far in 2024, 4. In 2002 President Carter became the first and only American President to win the Nobel Peace Prize for activities after their Presidency. He was awarded the prize for the Carter Center's work promoting Democracy and Human Rights around the world. Carter's political reputation in the US has long been overshadowed by his 1980 loss and the rough end of his Presidency but in 2010s and 2020s President Carter has become more engaged with domestic politics campaigning and speaking in his native Georgia. In February 2023 aged 98 President Carter decided to enter hospice care, and many believed the end was near. 19 months later Carter is celebrating his 100th birthday. Sadly his beloved wife of 77 years former First Lady Rosalynn Carter passed away in November 2023. Many commented on a frail President Carter's personal strength appearing in person at her funeral. President Carter's Family reports that since Kamala Harris entered the 2024 race he's become more alert and following events more closely. When asked about his upcoming birthday Carter told his grandson that he's looking forward to being 100, but what he really wants is to make it to November 5th and cast his last vote for Kamala Harris for President.

[freshxsturniolo]

4th July - Part 6 - chris sturniolo x femreader

pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4 pt5

you flop down on the seat with a frustrated sigh, finally admitting defeat. you'd played the 3 games you had paid for and had chris had beat you every time. of course he had. you'd never played a game of top golf in your entire life.

chris smiles at you cheekily as he walks his way over to you, before he flops down and instantly puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest.

"dont be a sore loser, pretty girl" he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers across your whole body before he lets you move away from him again, leaning forward and grabbing his drink.

you pull your hair away from your eyes as you look at him.

"you could have let me win at least once" you moan, and he chuckles again as he puts down his drink.

"and not teach you how to play properly? never. i tried to help, didn't i?"

yes. he had tried to help. your heart was still racing with it now.

you had let out a frustrated cry as the ball once again went no where, and you had automatically looked to chris for guidance. he didn't even notice you weren't hitting the ball right to start with, his eyes trained all over your body. the jeans your wore showing off your ass. the skin of your exposed stomach as you wore a off the shoulder crop top, shoulder moving as you swung the club. your make up the most beautiful he had ever seen it. he could tell you had made an effort for him, and it made him smile, even thought he thought you were beautiful with or without it.

he had chuckled as he walked over to you, taking position behind you. hands on your hips as he angled you better before his hands held onto the backs of yours, as he practically took the shot for you, just your body entwined in front of his. when you and he hit the ball and watched it fly further than it had done all night, you turned your head over your shoulder to look at him, but your nose brushed together. he had smiled and looked down at your lips, before you uttered out a thank you, and pressed your lips against his.

it was your first kiss of the night, and you had lost count of how man kisses you had had since that moment just a little under an hour ago.

you rolled your eyes at him now, but a smile escapes you. "okay, yes. you did."

and he leaned forward and gave you another kiss. you weren't sure you were ever going to get enough of him and those lips.

he looked down at his phone now and saw the time was just nearing 6pm, because yes, you had called him the moment you were ready earlier in the day as you simply couldn't wait till the evening to see him, and he looks to you.

"so, what now? do you wanna go somewhere for drinks?" he said, his hand coming to your thigh. you look down at his fingers before placing your hand over his.

"you want to keep the date going?" you tease. he smirks as he bends forward now, his lips just inches from yours.

"i fear i want to keep this going forever." and then his lips press yours again. your hands come up to the nape of his neck as his hands rubs against your thigh, and for a moment you forget where you are. you forget the prying eyes likely upon you. you forget that people might even recognise who you both are. but you don't care. this felt right. this felt comfortable and so okay.

he pulls away from you now and theres a hazy look in his eyes, like he's contemplating saying something. so you wait. his eyes scan your entire face for a second, hand squeezing at your thigh, a sharp breath escaping your lips.

"i might be crazy, but-"

"are you done with these?" a voice comes from the side of you. you jump, turning your head to look at the voice and noticing the staff member pointing towards your plates and trays of food. you'd gone for a mixture of things, picking at them as you went along. wings, fries, ribs. but truthfully you hadn't eaten a lot, both too infatuated

"uhm, yeah, thank you." you smile.

the staff member smiles at you as he picks up the plates and trays, and when he finally walks off you give him a smile before turning back to chris. but he's shifted in his position and his cheeks are slightly red. his hand no longer on your thigh but clutching his phone, his knees doing a nervous jig. when he knows you're looking at him again, he smiles and stands, shoving his phone back in his pocket before holding our your hand.

"shall we go, then?"

"yeah," you start, lifting yourself from the seat and grabbing his hand. he pulls you forward immediately before you can even finish your sentence.

you make your way to the exist, the hustle and bustle of the place becoming quieter as you get to the car park, but you don't reach for your car keys just yet.

"what where you gonna say in there?" you ask.

he ignores you. you can tell he's ignoring you.

"chris" you press on.

"hmm?" he says, but he still doesn't turn to look at you, so you stop. you'd be lying if you said your heart didn't hurt a little. had you done something wrong? was he about to get in the car and tell you that actually, he didn't want to go for drinks and if you could drop him off home?

"are you okay?" you ask, and he stops now to look at you. luckily theres no cars wanting to come through the car park because you'd be swiftly moved along.

"yes. sorry. im good. really good. are you?"

you can see him panicking slightly, but it only stresses you out more.

"i just - im not sure. you dont seem yourself."

he smiles before he grabs your face in his hands, his eyes looking all over your face.

"sorry, i didn't mean to give you that impression. im okay, promise."

"its not me?" you blurt. you're being annoying. you're being overbearing, you know you are. but damn, there is something about this boy.

"oh my god" he says, shaking his head. "its never you. you're everything, pretty girl."

and then he kisses you. soft. but lingering for a second or two. when he parts he looks at you, and you can tell he's sincere, so you giggle. you actually giggle.

"so fucking cute" he laughs, but you push his hands away and roll your eyes, which only makes him laugh more, head back and hair flowing with him. you're addicted to him. you're actually addicted to him.

"come on then, pretty girl. where are we going for drinks?"

you laugh as you walk back towards your car, chris by your side.

"well, do you mind if we take my car back to mine and uber there? the night is ours then"

he comes behind you, hands on your hips, continuing to walk forward.

"sounds perfect."

___ the drive back to yours is filled with laughter. continual yapping about anything and everything, and his rests on your thigh the whole way, only taking it away to sometimes send a few texts to his brothers.

you throw your car keys on the side and show him into your living area, and he smiles as he looks around. you were proud of your house and everything you'd done to achieve it, so to see him enjoy it made you smile.

"do you fancy a drink whilst we wait for an uber?" you say now, walking across to the fridge in the kitchen. you can hear him on your heel.

"what you got?"

you open the fridge and let your eyes scan.

"uhmmmm," you start. but you feel him behind you. his breath on your neck, his fingers brush against yours as he takes the fridge door in his hand too and opens it wider, and suddenly you can't speak. suddenly the tension fills the air.

"beer will do" he says, his voice low.

and you both go to grab a bottle at the same time. he's leaning over your shoulder as your fingers brush the bottle and you both stop. your breathing higher, his breath hotter down your neck.

and then your phone rings, and you almost jump out of your skin.

"fuck" you whisper, and chris chuckles into your ear as he grabs the beer from the fridge, and you feel the heat of him move away from you.

you close your eyes before fishing for your phone in your pocket, and you screw up your face when you see the caller ID. spinning around, chris has perched himself on your kitchen table, and he sees the look on your face.

"everything okay?" he asks, genuine concern lacing his voice, and you smile.

"yeah, its carrington."

you see his smile fade. "oh."

"he never calls."

he raises his beer to you. "answer it, check hes okay."

you smile as you watch him take a sip, before sliding across your phone screen to answer the call. you hear the chatter of people before you even press your phone to your ear.

"babeeeeeee" carrington calls, and you can't help but laugh as a rush of relief washes over you. he's okay.

"hello, carrington" you laugh, and chris raises an eyebrow. you smile at him.

"where the fuck are you?" he shouts. its a quiet bar but you know the amount of people he's going to be surrounded by.

"im at home." you admit, walking back to the fridge and taking out your own beer. you walk over to chris and pass it to him, and he laughs as takes off the lid for you. you mouth a thank you before taking it off of him.

"what?! are you not coming out?"

"erm,"

"oh. fuck." you hear him say. "you're with chris, aren't you?"

"yes." you say, and you can tell chris can hear him on the other end, his eyes are surveying you as he takes another sip from his beer.

“shit.” carrington says “wait, at your house? did i just call you mid FUCK?”

he’s drunk, so drunk, but you laugh.

“no carrington, you did not.”

“oh thank god. put me on speaker” he slurs.

“not a chance.”

chris is eyeing you further. and you give him a sorry smile, and he shrugs. he shrugs.

your mind instantly goes back to the party. you in the pool and him sitting on the edge after you’d been thrown in there, and you instantly remember his words. words you’d forgotten about until now. ‘is there anything going on between you and carrington’. and then you realise the shrug and the eyes, are jealousy. you smirk almost. something about him thinking of you with another guy and being mad about it only makes you find him so much more attractive.

“go onnnnn” carrington pleads in your ear, and then the pull the phone away and press louder speaker.

“you’re on” you say. and chris looks towards your phone.

“CHRIS” carrington shouts, and chris laughs.

“hey, bro” he says as you walk closer to him so he can be closer to the phone. he doesn't look at you once.

"you guys should come here. the whole gangs here and it would be good to see you."

chris looks at you now and you realise in the excitement of the day, you hadn't mentioned the drinks. truthfully, you were going to text tara and tell her you wouldn't be going, as you didn't want the alone time to end with him. you were having fun, and you knew your friends would understand.

but you begin to tell him. "we have drinks at this bar. is usually pretty lowkey but its just a place to catch up properly." you shrug, and chris nods.

"you wanna go?" he asks, the chatter of people around carrington as he awaits for one of you to speak to him.

"we dont have to." you say, and chris studies your face for a second before he leans into the phone.

"we'll get an uber there now, bro." he says, and your eyes widen.

"urgh, thank god. i miss my girl.” carrington speaks.

you close your eyes, hoping chris doesn’t latch onto it, but he laughs as carrinton hangs up. you open up your eyes just in time to see him staring at you, but he looks away quickly. and that look on his face again.

“you know” you say, and he diverts his eyes to you again. “i meant what i said. there’s nothing going on between me and carrington.”

he shrugs. again. that damn shrug. “i know.”

and you look at him for a second, before walking closer to him. you force your legs in between his and he opens up immediately, your hands coming to the nape of his neck again. it takes him a second but that beautiful smile emerges on his face again as he puts his free hand on the back of your thigh, giving it a small squeeze.

“tell your face that then”

and then you kiss him.

TAGLIST : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss @slut4chriss @valkatriee @sturnsjtop @viiiwwwee @gwennysturniolo @melanch0lybby @sturnioloblues @mattstrombolii @sturnsbella @hearteyes4chris @le4hsblog @nervoussagittarius @chrissypook @sarosfilms @somegirlfromasgard @carringtonsgirlfriend @h3arts4harry

[thearchercore]

Waiit, the inchident was charles' fault?

oh, dear. let's introduce you to charles' deep history of gaslighting max. it's rich.

the inchident video.

while the video made it seem like max was the insane one, he was not. charles was the one who caused it and pushed max into the puddle AFTER the chequered flag, which got them both disqualified. (max pushed him first earlier, but charles managed to wait till the end to push him when they didn't have to race)

then he managed to say it was "just an inchident" and refused to comment on it further while max was MAD since charles pushed him into the puddle first lol.

when charles got asked about it in an interview years later, he ignored the question about when he pushed him (if it was after the flag went up) and changed the topic lol. he's really trying to push the narrative it wasn't just him being bitter and acting out on track.

he also said during an F1 interview that “Max calmed down… quite a bit” when like?? brother you were the one who pushed him into a puddle!

a race later, they both got lectured to not act out like this again and charles refused to look at max and kept his helmet on during the entire conversation:

(from @il-predestinato)

another fun interview from their past is charles giving one of his first interviews in italian

charles said: "all of them [other drivers] have more experience than me, except for verstappen" like?? charles KNEW max had more experience but still consciously singled him out and SPECIFICALLY claimed that max was the least experienced one when everyone knew it wasn't true lmao

another instance is when max took the lead in austria in 2019 and stole charles' first possible GP win. charles thought the move max did was illegal and was mad to the point he LEFT THE PODIUM EARLY

then he "congratulated" max in the following ig post:

and right after unfollowed max while they were ON THE SAME PLANE.

charles then proceeded to repeat the "illegal" move max did on him in the following race since he had the precedent that it was legal now since max did not get punished.

so to quote @tsarinablogs "The best gaslighting Charles has ever done was to convince the people that Max was and is the insane one, not him"

[iimplicitt]

KEEP YOUR EYES ON ME BOY | CL16

charles leclerc x girlfriend! character

wanrings/an: mentions of an eating disorder, bullying, depression, angst, fluff, hea, monaco gp 2024 win

requests open

wc: 3.9k

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Stress wore at the edges of her body. She could feel it, every ache of muscle and her bones felt dry. It all felt wrong. Her skin not fitting right and she was tired. Always tired.

Sighing, she rubbed tiredly at her eyes before she started to get ready. It was a race weekend, in Monaco at that, so the tension and excitement was bubbling in the air. Palpable. Nearly tasting of champagne given that’s all anyone seemed to be drinking.

As she did her makeup in the bathroom, her eyes kept dancing to the bedroom reflected behind her. Taking in the sleeping form of her boyfriend wrapped in white linen sheets. She always woke up earlier than him. Sleep wasn’t something that came often, she was always restless. She also liked to get ready before he woke up, get all dolled up so he would call her pretty first thing in the morning. She liked keeping him satisfied.

Being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver meant she always had to look her best. At least that’s what it felt like.

She was terrified of him leaving. His eyes wandering. So many of the other girls were models. Drop dead gorgeous. She was just trying to keep up.

Charles’ body rose and fell gently, his brown hair a mess on the pillow case. Looking peaceful as he slept.

She knew how much this weekend meant to him. His home race, right on the streets he grew up on. She had wanted to give him the space. No distractions. She’d stay in their apartment and watch on tv. Let him have his moment. Not admitting to herself or him that she was really just scared. Scared of the photographers and fans who seemed to hate that she existed. Scared of feeling insecure of all the other girls in the paddock.

Fake it till you make it is what she had tried to tell herself. But the moment her and Charles went public all the comments got to her. The criticism. She wasn’t pretty enough for him. She was a gold digger. She was too young. She was using him to further her own career. She was a lapse in his judgement. She was a whore.

She wanted to delete all her socials but Charles had talked her out of it. “It’s just noise,” he would say, like it was so easy. Plus, she didn’t have much of a choice. Having a good social media presence came with the territory of dating him.

To manage it, every once and a while she’d post a random photo dump of her travels and then turn off her notifications. Out of sight, out of mind. But she knew those comments were there. The hate pages. Lingering in the back of her mind every time she looked at herself in the mirror. Chewing on ice to stay skinny enough. Not just for them or Charles, but her own happiness.

She just wanted to be enough.

She felt guilty sometimes. It’s not like Charles had necessarily done anything to shovel these worries into her. She was just insecure, she knew that. But sometimes it felt like she loved him and he loved the vanity of it all. The image. They looked good together on paper. A young couple, rich, lavish, traveling the world. She sometimes felt like a status quo. A status. His favourite toy he liked to play with. Driver’s always got more attention when they were seeing someone.

Doubts on top of doubts.

She felt like an ungrateful bitch. But she was greedy. She wanted all of him, all of his attention. Hating that she had to share him with the world.

She didn’t know why her heart felt like this. Charles gave her every piece of him that he could. He was a public figure, had been for years. Long before he even knew she existed. She respected that, she did. But he lived life in the fast lane and she was terrified of getting left behind. Of him finding someone better around the corner. She wouldn’t blame him, if there was another girl out there who looked like heaven on earth and had all the self confidence in the world she’d leap at the opportunity.

Stress was the last thing he needed, so she kept her sadness to herself. Smiling warmly every time he looked at her. Making sure she gave him support in all that he did. Cheering him on, trying to make him feel on top of the world even if he had a bad day.

“Ma chérie?” His tired voice called out, rough with sleep and she turned, watching him rub at his eyes before sitting up on his elbows.

His smile was lazy, sleep still clinging to the edges of his features. Always so handsome.

She knew she was the luckiest girl alive.

He held his arm out, “C’mere.” His voice was soft but carried over the apartment easily, the early morning sun dancing over his tan skin through the window.

Her feet padded across the floor, her heart beating in her throat. She didn’t know why she always felt nervous around him. Always on her toes. She didn’t want to mess this up.

Charles’ arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close and his body warmth melted into her, calming her lungs. Touching him always seemed to ease her a bit. Reminding her he was human, like the rest of the world.

His head rested against her sternum as he held her close, sighing into her. She took to running her nails gently through his hair, which seemed to help him whenever he was anxious. Something she had originally never thought possible. Charles gave the impression of someone who could easily carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. But as they got to know each other more she realised how good he was at hiding. Putting up a front because he knew eyes were watching.

The press wasn’t kind to the drivers if they showed any strain. Saying they were losing their edge. They weren’t fit to race. That they should get over it and stop complaining. That men shouldn’t even have such ailments. Grow up.

His other arm snaked around her waist as he looked up at her, resting his chin against her and she took in the flecks of gold in his pretty eyes. “I think we got carried away last night.” His tone was light, teasing. His dimples showed slightly in his cheeks and she held his face in her hands. A blush bleeding into her own.

“I think you got carried away, you know I can’t say no to you.”

He shrugged, “you looked pretty naked on the balcony.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help it as anxiety clawed up her throat. Tickling like a spider who wanted to pry its way out. Worried that there were tabloids going viral, that they had been caught and she was being called a list of synonyms for the word slut. That she was ruining his reputation. His career. That she was sabotaging his home race.

As if reading her thoughts, Charles tugged her onto the bed and she laid down in the space between his legs, her back resting against his chest. He kissed the side of her head. “No one saw us. Trust me, if they had my phone would be blowing up right now.”

She supposed that was true, but what they had done was too risky. Regardless, she didn’t want to worry him. This was his weekend. She’d sugar coat anything for him, be who he needed her to be.

“Are you ready for today?”

They had their first practice sessions yesterday and it had gone well, though she stayed behind. Today was quali and she knew how much he wanted this. What it would mean for him. What it would mean for Monaco to have one of their own on pole.

His fingers dusted over her shoulder, down her arm to her hand before he twined his fingers with hers. “I want you to be there. Today and tomorrow.”

She held her breath for a moment, debating on how to respond. “This is your weekend I don’t–”

“Hey,” he lightly took hold of her chin and tilted her head back so they could look at one another. “I want you there with me. Forget about everyone else, it’s just you and me.”

She didn’t know why but she felt like crying. Sadness was weird that way, taking hold of every nerve even when one should be happy. He was always so reassuring yet her brain would still trip over itself on an invisible problem.

Smiling, she felt stiff all over. Wrong. An imposter. “Okay.”

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Her nails tapped a rhythm into the table, hyper aware of how she was sitting and what she looked like. Was she breathing normally? Did it look too forced, too quick, too shallow? Was her outfit okay? She wore one Charles had bought her a few weeks ago, delighted in the way he smiled at her when she walked out of the bathroom in it.

She liked it when she made the right choice.

When cameras flashed she tried not to flinch. The worst part was always when she walked into the paddock. It didn’t matter if she was alone or with Charles. Though if he was with her she usually idled back a few paces, letting him have the limelight and smile as people walked up to him for photos or autographs. This weekend he was the main point of interest, the Prince of Monaco in his own regard.

She smiled all the while, lightly to give the impression of being casual. It was just another day yet she also needed to look grateful. It was complicated, trying to win people over. She wasn’t allowed to look entitled but she also needed to fit in.

When Charles grabbed onto her waist to kiss her a quick goodbye before disappearing into Ferrari’s garage, panic seized her. She couldn’t breathe. But she kept smiling.

Rebecca had given her some advice; never let them see you break.

She still felt like she had to walk carefully around Carlos’ girlfriend. She was sweet and understanding, knowing how stressful it all was. But she couldn’t help it, she always wanted to appease those around her, desperately wanting to be liked. It was intimidating, being surrounded by models. Rebecca was also older than her, more experienced so she handled it with an air of grace that seemed impossible.

She heard another flicker of a camera lens, snapping her out of it and her eyes slated to the side, noticing a photographer taking pictures of people. Her stomach churned uneasily, her curiosity itching to glance at her phone but she knew better.

Watching them drive always made her nervous, that’s partly why she preferred staying home. In the safe haven of privacy. She tried to always be poised, giving support when appropriate. Trying not to over do it.

Yet when she watched Charles land on pole, her along with the rest of those in Ferrari’s paddock club shot up out of their chairs. Yelling and chanting, hands in the air. She was beaming. It was only a stepping stone for tomorrow, but she knew he must’ve been over the moon.

Someone then tapped her on the shoulder. She didn’t notice at first, still clapping and grinning as Charlotte pulled her into a quick hug. The tap came again, more pressure this time and she turned around, her eyes flicking across the room before they landed on a woman who must’ve been around her age.

“Yes?”

The woman smiled, looking kind enough and she held a notepad in her hand. “So sorry to bother you, but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity. Could you step just outside for a moment. On the balcony?”

She hesitated, realising this was probably a reporter of some kind. Not seeing why they wanted to talk to her, but Charles did just get pole so she assumed it was because of that. Maybe she just wanted a quote from his supportive partner. Besides, the balcony was right there.

So she smiled, ever the people pleaser. “Okay.”

Following her out between the crowd, the warm salt air greeted her skin, mingled with the faint smell of petrol. Her eyes danced back through the window, hoping she wouldn’t miss his post-quali interview.

“So,” the woman leaned slightly on the railing and looked down at her notes. “First, I just wanted to ask your thoughts about Charles getting pole.”

“Oh, wonderful. I’m so happy for him.”

The woman continued to stare at her and she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to add more. Wringing her hands nervously she cleared her throat. “Winning this race has always been a dream of his.”

“Obviously.”

She blinked at the tone shift. It wasn’t obvious, but she still picked up on it. Did she say something wrong? “Um, is that all? I should really–”

“You aren’t often seen at races. Why not go more often, given you should be supporting him? Or does he not want you there because you don’t know anything about racing?”

Her ears began to ring, pressure slowly building behind her eyes. She lightly shook her head, “I’m sorry what–”

“You two have been dating for a few years now but there’s still no ring,” the woman made a point to stare at her bare ring finger. “Then again, he doesn’t seem the marrying type. With his promiscuous past love life and all, do you think you’re a bench warmer to him?”

“No, I– I’m sorry but what paper were you with again?” She could feel her heart beat in her finger tips. The sun suddenly felt too bright, too close.

“Your dress is stunning, how much was it? I know you love coming off as relatable online so it’s affordable right?”

“Charles–”

“Bought it for you? Right. How much else does he buy you? I’m sure you’re aware of the allegations.”

She could barely hear her. Comments were bad enough, but having someone say it to her face was suffocating. It felt like the floor was moving, swaying beneath her feet. The roof sinking lower and lower yet not moving at all. It was too hot and she felt light headed.

“What about your diet? Many believe you're suffering from an eating disorder yet you promote yourself at all these restaurants. Do you realise how damaging that is to girls who look up to you?”

She felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach. Yanking the breath out of her lungs with greedy hands. God, she felt like she was about to pass out. She didn’t know what she said next. Didn’t know how she replied. Didn’t know how she got away.

No memory of making her way to Charles’ drivers room. She just wanted to get away. She knew she shouldn’t have come, though she supposed it didn’t matter. People thought that way about her regardless if she heard it in person. Her head was spinning, guilt clawing at her. What was she doing? She had been so selfish, all these awful things were making him look bad and she was just letting it happen?

Tears were hot as they ran down her cheeks, her hands tried scraping them away but her skin felt too rough. It’s not like it helped, she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t breathe, her lungs tripping over themselves as they tried to catch up. She didn’t know where to go. The room was too big yet too small and she slid to the floor against the foot of the small cushioned bench in the room.

What was she doing here? Why her? Charles could have anyone he wanted. She didn’t understand what the point of her was.

She didn’t hear the door open, didn’t hear him mutter her name with concern lacing his tone. She didn’t even realise he was there till he lightly touched her arm and she flinched away from him.

Everything was falling apart. He wasn’t supposed to see her like this. He never saw her cry. She was supposed to be happy. Grateful all the time.

She choked out apologies, turning away from him to try to wipe her tears away but nothing was working.

His hands sought her out again, this time she didn’t fight it as he pulled her into his hold. He was on his knees, cradling her to him and he held her head against his chest, shaking with sobs she tried to silence.

“Parle moi mon amour,” he said softly into her hair, tone slightly pleading.

She was awful. This is the last thing he needed.

Shaking her head, she tried to pull away from him but he tightened his hold on her, kissing her gently on top of her head. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” she managed to get out. “I’m sorry this isn’t–”

“Hey, don’t apologise.” He leaned back, gently cupping her face in one hand and his brows furrowed when he took in her red glossy eyes. “What happened?”

She leaned into his hand, embarrassed. “This woman… just, nothing I’m overreacting.”

Charles went tense but his thumb gently wiped away another tear that slipped out. “Who?” His tone was off, she hadn’t heard him sound like that before. Slightly cold. Angry.

“It’s nothing. You don’t need this right now and–”

“Who? What did she say to you?”

“What they always say.” Her voice shook. She was tired. Of it all. She had been teetering on the edge of a knife for months now, she just wished she hadn’t fallen off now of all days.

Charles held her tighter, sighing slightly but she could tell he was angry.

She squeezed her eyes shut, “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have come today.”

“I told you I want you here–”

“You aren’t even able to celebrate pole. You’re in here consoling your girlfriend who’s a mess.”

“I don’t need to celebrate until tomorrow. And this isn’t a burden, you aren’t. Someone made you cry and I’m going to hit them with my car.”

She couldn’t help it as a laugh left her. “Yeah, right.” Nonetheless she sunk into him further, the tears finally calming down. She didn’t realise how much she needed this, to be held by him. She'd gone through most of their relationship putting her emotions on the backburner. Too afraid to screw things up. She should’ve known better, Charles wasn’t the type to just drop people when it got inconvenient.

Sighing, she finally looked up at him again. He was always so beautiful. Heaven on earth in the form of a human. “I don’t know who she was. Some woman pulled me aside with a note pad and she just started saying and asking all these things that really got to me. The same stuff that they all say, I know it’s nothing new but hearing it said was a lot to take in all of the sudden.”

Charles clenched his jaw, his tongue running along the side of his cheek as he looked away from her. His eyes suddenly became darker than usual. “Was she a reporter?”

“I mean I assume so.”

“Did she have a press pass?”

“I don’t know, she had a lanyard. She was in the paddock, I just assumed. I…” she bit at her own cheek. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes flicked back to hers, softening a bit at the edges. “Please, stop apologising.”

Charles stood up, taking hold of her hands to guide her along with him. Never letting go of her and she didn’t think she could express how grateful she was for him. He always knew what to do.

“I’ll fix this.”

She shook her head, her eyes feeling dry and puffy. “There’s nothing to fix, I know people will always talk.”

“Tell me what I can do to make it better.”

She smiled slightly, lifting up one of his hands to kiss his knuckles. “Just keep your eyes on me and win that race tomorrow. You deserve it, Charles.” He deserved everything he wanted and more, she just wished she could provide that for him.

But she was only human. She knew there’d be times to come where they made each other mad, annoyed, sick of each other. She’d fight it though, fight for him. She hoped he felt the same.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

She was still crying, for a whole list of other happier reasons, when Charles walked up to her soaked in champagne and beaming. He set his first place trophy down and wrapped her in a hug, not being able to help it as he picked her up and spun her around.

“Thank you for being here,” he mumbled into her hair.

Setting her down, her arms were looped around his neck and she toyed with the wet strands of hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m so happy for you. You should’ve seen us, I thought your mother was going to faint.”

Charles laughed, shaking his head and catching her mouth in a kiss, his arms tight around her waist. The fact that they were surrounded by hundreds of people and cameras didn’t even cross her mind. She didn’t care.

It was just them, no one else mattered.

Her eyes danced to the side as they began walking towards the pier for further celebration when she spotted her. She froze slightly, her hold on Charles’ hand tightening and he pulled them to a stop.

His brows creased as he looked down at her, “what?’

“That’s her, the woman.”

She blinked a few times, taking in how normal she looked yet she was capable of being cruel for no reason.

Charles turned to follow where she was looking. The moment his eyes landed on her, his jaw clenched. “You’re fucking kidding.”

“What?”

He had that tone again, the one rough around the edges that she rarely heard him use.

“She’s not with any paper or the press, she has a VIP pass.”

“So?” Looking at him, Charles gave the impression of someone ready to rip a head off a neck. “It’s fine. Let’s go celebrate, I’m over it.”

He gave her hand a squeeze and turned to her. “That means she was invited. Unbelievable they let people like that in here.”

“Charles–”

“I’ll be back.”

Before she could argue he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and handed her his trophy, turning sharply on his heels and made a beeline for the rude woman.

She held her breath as she held the trophy, watching in both admiration and worry as he stalked up to her. Clearly pissed off and she watched as the woman’s eyes widened as she realised Charles was looking right at her.

They were too far away so she wasn’t able to hear what he was saying, but she was pretty sure he was quietly yelling at her given the way the woman flinched back, her own eyes dancing past Charles' shoulders to look at her. It didn’t last long though, Charles stepped to the side to block her vision, lowering his head more and a few seconds later the woman practically ran off with her tail between her legs.

Charles turned, still aggravated but gave her a reassuring smile as he neared her. Taking the trophy from her arms and placing a hand on her waist.

“Let’s go.”

He offered no explanation and she didn’t ask. All she did was smile when he kissed the top of her head again.

tag-list: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hi, Sorry for bothering you but I just read your stories, and they are wonderful. Do you mind me asking if you post these on any of the reading websites? Like Archive or Wattpad. Also I have a prompt for you if you would mind to please write a story on this at your convenience. Its Max with his daughter Eloise (I just created this name here) and well if you could write angst, anything like but a bit angsty. If you cant then no problems at all. I have a fluff one as well, Lando being a young father hiding his daughter till his first win in 2024. He got his daughter at an young age like in 2020. And he is a single father.

I hope you didnt offend by any of my words, and if I did I am sorry. It was unintentional. Hope you have a nice day. ✨

Lando's daughter?!

Lando never thought his life would change so drastically at twenty-one. One day, he was a rising star in Formula 1—barely an adult, living his dream, and surrounded by fans who hung on to his every word. The next, he was holding a squirming, pink-faced newborn in his arms, her tiny fingers curled around one of his. His daughter. Yn.

He still remembered the weight of that moment. The sheer panic flooding his veins when he first read the letter the mother left behind, explaining that she couldn't do it. Couldn't raise their child. She hadn't even wanted to meet his eyes when she handed him the baby carrier. And then she was gone, leaving him with a helpless infant and a heart full of confusion.

At first, Lando doubted himself. How could he, a twenty-one-year-old who could barely keep houseplants alive, take care of a baby? His career demanded everything from him. He had no time for diaper changes, midnight feedings, or learning how to soothe a crying baby. But then he looked down at her. Yn. With her soft, dark curls and big, curious eyes. And in that instant, his hesitation melted away.

He was her dad. She was his world. There was no turning back.

The first year was chaos. Sleep deprivation became his new normal. His apartment was overrun with baby supplies. His friends barely recognized the version of Lando who spent more time researching baby formulas than playing video games. But none of that mattered when Yn gave him her first smile, or when she clung to him like he was the safest place in the world.

Only a select few knew about her. His family, of course. His best friend Max Fewtrell, who had been there since day one with jokes, support, and emergency diaper runs. His team at McLaren, who adjusted travel schedules and provided quiet rooms for Yn during race weekends when necessary. And then there was Dolores.

Dolores had been an unexpected blessing. She lived across the hall, a warm-hearted Colombian woman in her sixties with a booming laugh and a soft spot for babies. The first time she found Lando on his doorstep, frantically bouncing a wailing Yn at six in the morning, she took charge without hesitation. “Ay, mijo, give her here,” she'd said, scooping Yn into her arms with the confidence of someone who had raised three children herself. “You need to sleep before you pass out. I’ll take care of her.”

From that night on, Dolores became Yn’s second family. When Lando had to travel for races, Yn stayed with her. She taught Yn Spanish nursery rhymes, cooked meals that filled Lando's apartment with mouth-watering aromas, and spoiled Yn with the kind of love only a grandmother could provide. Yn adored her.

And through it all, Lando kept his daughter a secret from the public. He didn’t want her life overshadowed by his fame. Yn deserved a childhood untouched by paparazzi or invasive fans.

Which was why, four years later, no one batted an eye when Dolores and a bright-eyed little girl took their seats in McLaren's VIP section during the Miami Grand Prix.

Yn's curly brown hair was pulled into two lopsided pigtails, and her big, curious eyes scanned the bustling scene below. She swung her legs back and forth, the tiny McLaren hoodie she wore swallowing her frame.

"Dolores! Did you see Daddy's car?" Yn gasped, her voice bubbling with excitement. "It's so fast today!"

Dolores chuckled softly beside her, her wrinkled hands folding neatly in her lap. "Of course, mija. Your daddy is very fast. But today, I think he is also a little bit magic, no?"

Yn giggled, leaning against the older woman. She loved Dolores like a grandmother. The warm smell of her lavender lotion always made Yn feel safe, even when Daddy was away.

"He's gonna win," Yn declared confidently. "I just know it."

"I hope so, mi corazón," Dolores said, brushing a stray curl from Yn's forehead. "He works very hard. And I know he wants to make you proud."

Yn nodded vigorously, as if there was no question at all. To her, Lando was already the best. He gave the best hugs, made the silliest pancake faces, and always kissed her forehead before bed, even when he was tired. Winning a race? That was just another thing he could do.

A few rows away, Max Fewtrell leaned casually against the railing, his sunglasses shielding his eyes as he scanned the crowd. He was there to support Lando, of course, but also to keep an eye on Yn and Dolores. It wasn’t that he thought they needed babysitting — Yn was a handful, sure, but Dolores had handled far worse in her years — but Lando had made one thing clear: protect his daughter. Always.

The world didn’t know about Yn. Not really. To the public, Lando was the cheeky, carefree McLaren driver who loved gaming and laughing with his friends. No one knew about the nights he stayed up with a teething baby or the mornings he tiptoed through his apartment to avoid waking Yn before breakfast. And that was how he wanted it.

She deserved normal. And as long as Lando had a say, she would get it.

The race was a blur. Yn squealed and cheered every time she caught a glimpse of the papaya-colored car speeding down the straights. Her tiny fingers clutched a homemade sign that said "Go Daddy Go!" in wobbly, marker-scrawled letters.

When the checkered flag waved and Lando crossed the line first, the entire McLaren garage erupted into chaos. Mechanics cheered, hugging each other as the engineers pounded their fists against the monitors. Dolores clapped softly, a proud smile spreading across her face.

Yn, however, had no such composure.

"He won!" she shrieked, jumping up and down. "Dolores, he did it! Daddy won!"

Dolores laughed as Yn pulled at her hand. "Sí, sí, mija. Calm down or you will fly away."

Yn didn't care. Her heart pounded with joy. She wanted to see him — needed to see him. Daddy always told her winning was special, but it wasn’t everything. But to her, this moment felt like everything.

Lando stood on the top step of the podium, heart hammering in his chest as the British national anthem blared around him. The weight of the winner's trophy felt surreal in his hands. He’d dreamed of this day for years.

But only one thought consumed his mind.

Yn.

As soon as the celebrations wrapped up, he bolted from the podium. He barely registered the cheers from the crowd or the flashes of cameras. His legs burned, but he didn’t stop. He needed to get to her.

The McLaren VIP section was quiet compared to the chaos outside, but when Lando pushed open the door, Yn was already rushing toward him.

"Daddy!"

The sound of her voice hit him like a lightning bolt. He dropped to his knees just in time for Yn to throw herself into his arms. She clung to him tightly, her little face buried against his neck.

"You did it! You won!" Yn said, her voice muffled but filled with pride.

Lando squeezed her tighter, pressing kisses to her temple. "I did, baby. I did it for you."

Dolores, watching the reunion with quiet warmth, stood back respectfully. She had known from the moment Lando took his daughter into his arms for the first time that this boy — no matter how young or unprepared he might have been — was meant to be a father.

Lando pulled back just enough to cup Yn's face in his hands. "Did you watch the whole race?"

Yn nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Every lap. You were so fast!"

His heart melted. "I wanted to make you proud."

"I am proud," Yn whispered. "Always."

He laughed softly, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"I love you too, Daddy."

For a moment, the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was just the two of them, and the love that bound them together.

But outside the VIP section, murmurs began to ripple through the paddock.

"Did that kid just call him Daddy?"

"Wait, does Lando have a kid?"

"Since when?"

Lando didn’t care. He had spent four years protecting Yn from the spotlight. He wasn’t about to let a few rumors take away the joy of this moment.

Max slipped into the room, a wide grin plastered across his face. "Told you she'd be your lucky charm."

Yn turned in Lando's arms, spotting Max. "Uncle Max! Did you see? Daddy won!"

Max laughed, crouching down to their level. "I saw, mini. You must be magic or something."

Yn giggled, and Lando shook his head fondly. "Thanks for keeping an eye on them," he murmured.

"Always," Max said quietly. "But hey, maybe next time warn me when you're about to blow your own cover."

Lando snorted, standing up with Yn still perched on his hip. "It was worth it."

And as Yn snuggled against his shoulder, her soft breath warm against his neck, Lando knew with every fiber of his being that no trophy would ever mean more than being her dad.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves! I hope you enjoy this story. My requests are always open for you!

-💙🦋

[whatifitis]

♡ I knew it, I know you - FC 43 ♡

Based off the song: I knew it, I know you by Gracie Abrams

Summary: You and Franco dated but when things took a turn with your career, your world got turned upside down.

Author's note: i was told i should add additional parts to this plot so lmk if that's something you guys would like to see <3

WC: 3309

CW: fights, brief mention of a car crash, a bit of angst i think

You swore to god, you hadn’t thought of him in ages. But there he was, plastered all over social media as a driver for Williams for the remainder of the season in F1. The man who absolutely destroyed you. But you had also destroyed him. You had destroyed each other towards the end of your relationship. 

You and Franco dated back when the two of you were in F2 and F3. The two of you had hit it off almost instantly, already so drawn to each other. You weren’t gonna lie, the two of you almost weren’t a thing. You are terrible at not only initiating, but also keeping conversations going. But the fact that Franco was so bold and carefree, he was able to stick with you till you opened up out of your shell, which was truly insane to you. And you’re grateful for him and everything he has done for you, no matter what went down all that time ago. 

The two of you were always there for eachother, whether one was winning races or not. You would always scream the loudest when he won. Every single time he was on the podium, you’d be so incredibly proud of him, standing there watching in awe, tears streaming down your face. You’d never met someone so perfect. 

He was so different from anyone you’d ever met. He was valiant, hilarious, strong, and so beautiful, on the inside and out. He knew you’d often struggled with your mental health and maintaining relationships, whether platonic or romantic. But he stayed, he actually stayed, through all your faults. He loved you anyway. He was the best thing that ever was yours. 

But now it’s like he’s on another planet, you wonder how the weather is there. 

While you were proud of him for making it to F1, you still couldn’t help but feel a bit of annoyance. The two of you would often talk about the future together. The plan was always to work your asses off and make it to F1 together. He was gonna be the first Argentinian driver in ages, and you were gonna be the first woman in ages to drive in F1. During this time, you guys were gonna save money and buy your dream home together. He’d always wanted a big patio where you two could do barbeques together, where he could bring his family. He also wanted a pool where everyone could enjoy their time together, away from the cameras and chaos. 

But now those dreams are just that. Dreams. 

The breakup wasn’t necessarily mutual or on good terms. Franco initially wanted to work things out and talk but you didn’t think it’d fix anything. Things were already getting rocky as your racing career was coming to an end. After a bad accident all those years ago, you weren’t able to get back in the car. And for that, you were so angry. Racing was all you could do, you didn’t have a backup plan. Your anger got the best of you and you were taking it out on those around you. Franco got the worst of it though wanting to do his best to help you, but all it did was make you feel pitied. 

Things just kept spiraling from there, til you officially ended things with him. 

It was the night after the F2 race in Monaco. You had been there the whole weekend, cheering on all your friends. You were making your way to see Franco but you were stopped by a journalist. You weren’t really in the mood to speak to a stranger but you decided it wouldn’t do any harm to stop for a minute or two. 

The journalist was a young man, about your age and a bit taller than you. 

“Hello, thanks for taking a moment to speak with me.”

You simply smile at him, still not feeling all that sociallike. 

“I just wanted to ask you a few questions, if that’s alright.”“Sure. Hit me.”

“My first question is, how does it feel to have had to drop out of racing due to your crash back in Australia?”“Oh well, you know, it didn’t feel great. I’m super disappointed in my performance from that day and of course not being able to race again has been a big struggle. I miss it a lot, but there’s nothing I can do now besides keep going. I’m still gonna come to some of the races and cheer on and support my friends.”

“Amazing. Now, how does it feel to know you won’t be the next woman in Formula 1? To know that you’ve essentially let down so many women, young and old, with you leaving the sport?”

You were honestly baffled by that question. Why the fuck would he ask that? Who in their right mind asks that? 

You seriously had no words, so you simply nodded your head and walked away. 

When you reached Franco, he could practically smell the rage emanating from you. 

“Amor, what’s wrong?” going to touch your arm, before you quickly pull away.

“Nothing. Let’s go.” 

Your shortness with him wasn’t new at this point, so he stayed quiet till you guys reached your flat.

Once you guys had walked in, he was quick to ask what happened at the track that led you to be stomping around with smoke coming out your ears. You told him everything that happened with the journalist, and he was nothing but sorry that something like that had happened to you. He knew how hard your transition was into a life without racing. 

“Baby, I know things are hard right now, but we can figure it out. This isn’t the end.” Franco tried to reason with you. But all you could see was red, feeling an intense pressure and heat in your chest. 

“You don’t even get it. My career is over, everything I’ve worked towards is gone. I have nothing left.”

Your words hit Franco, like a knife. You had nothing left? What about him?

“There are so many things you can do. We’ll find something that works for you. Stop being negative and actually try.” 

“Fuck you. I am trying, you don’t understand how hard this is. Everything’s working for you. Your life is perfect and amazing. Stop pitying me. I’m not a child.”

Somewhere in the chaos in your mind, you had lost all sense of where you were and who you were talking to. All you knew was that you were screaming everything you felt. 

Your mind was racing, you weren’t making total sense. 

After the race today and having dealt with you these past few months, he was tired. He wasn’t gonna coddle you and go easy on you anymore. 

“Well you’re sure acting like one. You need to grow up. Shit happens and you have to deal with it. Not everything will work out in life, you just have to deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say. Your life is perfect and you have everything you want.”

“If I had everything I wanted, then I wouldn’t have a girlfriend who’s giving up. I’d have a better girlfriend.” 

What? Did he really just say that? I hate when we fight, sucks when we fight. 

“I can’t pretend I’m sorry, when I’m not sorry. All I’ve ever done was my best when it comes to you and us. Unfortunately your girlfriend is awful.” 

You looked him in the eye one final time, “Get out. We’re done.” 

“That’s it? You’re gonna give up so easily?” he lets out a huff, “Typical of you to give up, again. Let me know when you’ve grown up.” 

With the slamming of the door, he was gone. That was the last time you saw him.

After a few days of radio silence from you, Franco felt abandoned. He’d already felt lost when you told him to leave, the second the door slammed closed, he almost went back in through the door to fix everything. It felt as if you didn’t care about his feelings, like he’d been cut a thousand times. Franco actually struggled to keep it together. He didn’t realize how much he needed you in his life. He didn’t realize how he depended on you, on your support, your touch and how it kept him sane and stable when everything around him was just pure chaos. 

It was hard for him to race after that day. And words could never describe how his heart hurt when he got called up to F1, when he got a seat. He immediately thought of you, he was living your dream after all - he couldn’t even share the experience with you, you weren’t by his side anymore. You were gone. 

Until now. 

Since that day, you have been working on yourself. You were in therapy now and continuing school to become an engineer. You thought, maybe since you can’t be in the car, you could work around it or with it. Things had been looking better. You started to surround yourself with love and support from your friends and family. 

You were on a work trip in Texas, helping a company work on a new up and coming project that could be innovative, when you got a call from an old friend. Oscar had seen through social media that you were in Texas, and invited you to see the race at COTA. When he initially offered the invitation, you almost didn’t go since you didn’t think it’d be a good idea, considering how you and Franco had left off. But it had been years, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. You would be able to go and support the rookies and maybe make up with Franco. 

It’s not like you didn’t feel love for him anymore. Maybe you two could work things out and get back to where you were. So you told Oscar you’d be at COTA. 

“That’s great! I’m so glad you’ll be able to make it. It’s been so long and I’m sure Lily would love to see you too.” “Omg, I’m so excited to see her again! I’ve missed her so much.” “Yeah. So, I’m sure you’ve heard. Franco is driving for Williams for the rest of the season, so he’ll be at COTA. Will you guys be able to keep it civil if you run into each other?”

“I can. I’ve lived a lot and I’ve let the rain in since everything. It’s just a matter of how he’ll react.” “I’m not gonna lie, I think he’s been waiting for an apology from you. Er, at least he did for a while.” “Yeah, he deserves one from me. I was pretty shitty to him, I know that now.” 

“I’m glad you were able to sort everything out on your end, hopefully you two can be friendly again.” “Maybe. I gotta go, Osc. Talk soon.”

“Talk soon.”

The amount of various feelings flowing through your body was making you physically shake. You were excited, nervous, happy, and everything mixed into one. 

You pull up Franco’s contact, thinking it’d be better to reach out and arrange a meeting rather than bombarding him at the track. 

You must have typed and deleted about 50 messages before settling on a simple “hey”

Franco didn’t expect to see your name show up on his screen. He chuckled bitterly at the irony of life, bringing you back onto his path after being the one to send him away. He doesn’t even know how he feels about you anymore. 

“Hey” he replied

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. You?”

“I’m okay”

Three minutes pass, you simply just stare at the screen, not knowing how to proceed. You watch as three dots float on the corner of your screen. 

“What do you want?”

Damn, harsh much?

“I was wondering if you wanted to meet up sometime this weekend? Oscar invited me to watch the race and I thought maybe we could talk. I think I’ve calmed down since the last time we spoke.”

“Sure. I don't know when exactly I’ll be available but I can text you closer to the weekend”

“That sounds good. Thanks for being cool about this.”

“No problem, see you soon.”

He was quick to cut the conversation. Maybe he's just busy. You decide to put your phone away and focus on some work stuff. 

The weekend comes around quickly and you find yourself wandering around the paddock alone. You weren’t able to make it Friday, but at least you’re here for qualifying. You managed to get a few minutes with Oscar and Lando, catching up a bit before they had to get ready for qualis. You made your way to where you were gonna watch the race, texting Franco at the same time. 

He was letting you know he’ll be able to meet up with you after the race today. You were so incredibly nervous because you wanted things to work out between the two of you. You missed him. He was your best friend, and you guess that was the worst part of losing him. If he just said when, you’d play again because you felt more in brief moments with him, than with anyone else. 

You sat down and watched the qualifiers, screaming and cheering everytime one of your boys passed someone or did something impressive. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed this. Watching and cheering on your friends from the sidelines. It felt good to watch them achieve their dreams, even if you couldn’t reach yours. Franco ended up in P6, which was impressive considering he’s only raced a few times in an F1 car, and he’s in a Williams car. 

After about 20 minutes, Franco texted you, letting you know to meet him in his driver's room. You made your way to his room after getting lost for about 8 minutes, when someone eventually felt bad for you and pointed you in the right direction. 

You walked up the steps to his room, standing there for a minute, nervous about seeing him. It’s been about 2 years since you last saw each other. You wonder if he looks any different now. Of course you’d seen his pictures around, but sometimes the cameras don’t catch certain things. Like how his eyes are essentially a kaleidoscope of everything you’ve ever loved, how his nose crinkles a bit at the bridge when he’s happy. 

Fuck it, enough stalling. You knock on the door and wait there for a response. After a minute, you don’t hear one so you assume you didn’t knock loud enough. You raise your hand to knock again when the door swings open. When it opens, your eyes quickly find his. 

He looks deep in your eyes, trying to find a glimpse of the past in them, a recollection of the memories you shared together, but it’s like you’re not there anymore. Sure, you’re standing right infront of him, but the you that he knew, the one he fell in love with, is missing. 

“Hey” he said softly. 

“Hey” 

You two stood there in silence for a moment, sort of processing that you’re seeing eachother again in person. As if your brains are trying to decipher whether this is real or a hallucination. 

The silence breaks when Franco shakes his head and clears his throat, 

“Come in.” he says, holding the door open for you. 

You walk in, brushing past him. 

The room is spacious, quiet, yet suffocating. 

You walk to the middle of the room, feeling a bit self-conscious. Turning back to face Franco, you watch as he closes the door and turns his body to you. 

“So’’ he says. 

“So”

“What did you want to talk about?” 

“I wanted to catch up, see how you’re doing. A lot has changed since the last time we saw each other.” you look down, swallowing a gulp before continuing, wringing your hands together, “I also wanted to apologize, for everything. The way I had acted all those years ago, especially towards the end. I wasn’t being fair to you and all you wanted to do was be there for me.”

“It’s fine.” he replies, leaning against a counter, crossing his arms over his chest, not giving you an ounce of emotion.

The burning sensation he feels in his chest now isn’t love anymore - instead it’s a mixture of pain and anger, feeling a riot form in his emotions. He’s wasting time on listening to someone who kicked him to the side without caring about how you had let him down when he needed you the most. 

Well, you didn’t know what to expect, but it surely wasn’t that dry and short answer. 

“That’s it? I came all this way to come and see you and apologize, and all I get is ‘fine’?!”

“I said ‘it’s fine’ actually.” 

Why was he being like this? You get that you fucked up a lot and that you had hurt him, but if this was how he was going to act, you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue this conversation. 

“Why did you even agree to talking to me, if this is how you’re gonna act?”

“How am I acting?” “Like you don’t give a fuck. Like you just wanna gloat, see how badly I was doing. You don’t know how to step outside yourself.” “You think so little of me? It’s not my fault you can’t sit with the hard thing.”

“Well when the proof is in the pudding then yeah. Are you even sad about the fact that we don’t talk anymore? That all we had is gone?”

“I’m not the one who ended things, you were. You’re the one who ruined us.” 

“I blew all my plans, just to get to talk to you today. I’m trying to fix everything that I broke but you’re not letting me.” “Maybe you aren’t trying enough.” he says as he pushes off the counter and walks towards you, stopping a few inches from you. Close enough that you can feel each other's breathing. 

“Not trying enough? Or not enough for you? For your deluded self?”

“I’m not the problem here, especially considering I’m the one driving in F1.”

“I should be the one with this chance, not you! All you have is an inflated ego and your shallow thinking.”

“I was the one who worked my ass off to get here. I’m sorry you couldn’t join me in this like we had planned, but it’s not my fault that things fell this way.”

“I should be in your seat, not you!” 

“No, you don’t deserve this seat. I actually put in the work to be here.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I earned my way through those races. I was one of the best.”

“Keyword: was.”

“You know that crash stopped me from driving. I can’t get back in the car.” “Can’t or won’t” 

“Can’t”

“No, you’re just a fucking pussy. You’re too scared to get back in the car cause you know you can’t do it. You can’t amount to anything.You know that even if you get back in the car, you’ll never get a seat in F1.”

You stand there for a beat. You never knew he could be so mean. Maybe you brought it out of him. 

It’s all your fault. You’re the problem. 

You feel the tears threatening to spill. You take a breath before saying, “I thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn't lose.”

He looks you up and down, lip twitching, “I guess I lied. I had the wrong idea about you.”

An all too familiar sight, his back, as he walks out the door, again, because of you. 

You really thought you would get what you wanted. But what did you want?