#why doesn’t he want to drive for Ferrari it’s so interesting to me

[britney-rosberg06]

smth smth Ollie being the british driver, signing up for the italian academy, living in Italy, learning the language, basically becoming more Italian than british, becoming seen as something precious to Italians and Ferrari fans vs Kimi signing up for the British made (german founded) team, moving to England, learning English, becoming something seen as a rare and precious asset to the team and a replacement to a british driver…thinking thinking

[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.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Riding Shotgun || CL14 & PG10 {1}

Pairing: boyfriend!Charles Leclerc x fem!reader x ex!Pierre Gasly Summary: A trip away with your boyfriend takes a turn when your ex comes along. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, mentions of historical cheating, unprotected sex, voyeur/exhibition kink. WC: 1.9k F1 Masterlist || one || two

Charles’ Ferrari pulled up outside his apartment just as you stepped outside with the overnight bag he had asked you to pack. The excited smile on your face hadn’t wavered since he promised to take you away for the night, just the two of you. So much of his time at home this trip has been spent with others, like going to the tennis open or some photoshoot, that he wanted to treat you to something special. 

But as the passenger door swung open you saw he wasn’t alone. 

“Oh, hey Pierre,” you greeted your ex who was sitting in your seat before lifting a questioning eyebrow to your boyfriend behind the steering wheel. “What are you doing here?”

“I hope you don’t mind, when Charles said he was going to Milan I thought I might catch a ride,” Pierre said as jumped out and took your bag to the boot.

“Should I call a taxi?” you asked as Pierre sat back in the passenger seat.

“You can sit on his lap,” Charles offered with a nod in Pierre's direction, “it’s not that far to the airport.”

“You want me to sit on my ex-boyfriend's lap for half an hour,” you stated, hoping he would pick up on the strangeness of the set up but he seemed oblivious. “Why doesn’t Pierre just drive?”

“No one drives my Pista,” he scoffed, like what you had said was absurd and not what he had. “Just get in or we’ll be late.”

You looked back at the apartment but knew you weren’t going to miss out on a night away with Charles so you took a steadying breath and climbed into the car. 

You had forgotten how muscular Pierre was until you sat on his lap, not that Charles wasn’t, but Pierre took more interest in bulking up when he went to the gym. It made for a very uncomfortable seat in a car built for luxury.

“Stop squirming,” Pierre muttered in your ear as you shifted once again.

“You’re not exactly soft.”

His large hands gripped your hips and planted you firmly in one spot as Charles left the city and started the ascent through the winding mountain road to Nice. 

“Charles, slow down,” you warned as you grabbed the handle above the door and the dash. 

Without a seatbelt you were rocking side to side with each corner and Pierre had wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from jolting forward whenever Charles broke into the tight corners. Attempting to stabilise you further, Pierre widened his legs but the movement caused your jeans to pull tight as he forced your thighs apart and the seam pressed into a very sensitive spot.

Charles didn’t hear your sharp intake of breath over the music that was playing but Pierre did and a quiet chuckle teased your ear. 

“Everything alright, princess?”

His words were mocking, the title one you had been given since going public with the ‘people’s prince of Monaco’. 

“Fine,” you bit back sharply before Charles took another corner quickly and the seam of your jeans rubbed over your clit, a small unexpected moan escaping at the sensation. You froze at the sound and became hyper aware of everything happening in the car; from Charles pressing the volume up on the steering console to the length growing hard beneath you. 

“You don’t sound fine,” he teased, his hands slipping lower down your waist. “You sound…needy. Does Charles not satisfy you like I did?”

Your fist clenched around the handle as you fought the urge to drop your elbow on his head but that would certainly draw Charles’ attention to the situation you had found yourself in.

“Shut up, Pierre,” you whispered angrily under your breath.

“You didn’t deny it,” he pointed out. 

You shifted to your side so you could see his face when you spoke to him. “Charles not only satisfies me, but he satisfies only me and doesn’t fuck with every woman that bats her eyelashes his way.”

“We established I was a shit boyfriend, but he could never make you come like I can.”

“This also makes you a really shit friend. What happens if I turn the other way and tell him about this?”

Pierre smirked and leaned closer. “Go on, princess, I dare you.”

“Charles?” You called his bluff and turned the music down, your boyfriend’s eyes  darting over for a moment before returning to the road. “Pierre has an erection.”

Pierre choked on a laugh as he dropped the pretence of holding you in place and let his hands fall naturally between your legs. “And Y/N is about three corners away from an orgasm.”

His fingers pressed over the seam of your jeans and the breath you had been taking to yell at him shuddered in your chest at the touch, the shiver a betrayal of your body. You grabbed Pierre’s hands to pull them away but he was far stronger and when you looked at Charles for help you expected to find anger in his eyes.

“I know your fantasies, princess,” Pierre smirked and looked over at his friend as his fingers teased over the denim between your legs, “you don’t have to be shy. Has Charles told you his yet?” His stubble tickled your neck as his lips brushed behind your ear and he whispered, “Before you two got together he would get off on the stories of us fucking.”

Your resistance faltered as your stomach flipped and you peered over to Charles who was biting his lip and stealing every glance he could as he drove, his eyes focused on Pierre’s hands between your legs and his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. You dragged your eyes down his body and saw his jeans barely containing the evidence of his arousal.

“You always wanted to have someone watch us, someone we could trust,” Pierre continued, announcing your secret to the car as one hand snaked up your body and gently wrapped around the base of your throat. “Now you can.”

“You’re insane,” you rasped breathlessly but it had nothing to do with the hold he had.

“Am I?” he chuckled as he flipped the sunvisor down and opened the mirror so you could see your face, your pupils blown out with desire. He reached for your jeans and popped the button before dragging the zip down slowly but you didn’t fight him. “Didn’t think so.”

Charles pulled over into the road shoulder overlooking the French Riviera and turned the car off. “You were meant to wait until the hotel,” he said as he palmed his erection. 

“It’s hard to keep my hands to myself when she’s grinding on my fucking dick, Cha.”

“You planned this.” You felt stupid as you realised it. The feeling quickly passed when Pierre’s hand slipped beneath your panties and he felt how wet you were for him as he started to fuck you with two fingers.

“Fuck,” Pierre growled with the husky tone that came out whenever he was about to lose control and you trembled in anticipation. “Get these off, now.”

You shoved your jeans down your legs and he lifted your hips up so he could free himself from his own before pulling you back down on his lap. A cry filled the car as he stretched your cunt and you revelled in the burn that danced the thin line between pleasure and pain.

“Cristo,” Charles moaned as his hand disappeared into his jeans and he watched you bounce on his friend's cock. “Come sei bella.”

Pierre grazed his teeth over your racing pulse before sealing his lips over your skin and leaving his mark while his middle finger found your clit.

“Do you like seeing another man fucking me?” you asked Charles as stroked his cock, the swollen head weeping with precum as he tightened his fist around it. “Do you like being cuckolded?”

“Mon Dieu, oui,” he moaned and your cunt clenched in response.

“I’m not going last when you do that, princess,” Pierre growled in your ear and your body heated at the look he gave you in the small mirror.

The atmosphere intensified as the sounds in the car grew louder and you planted your hands on the dashboard so you could rock your hips against Pierre. The shift in angles hit that perfect spot that sent stars dancing across your vision and your head fell back with the ecstasy that washed over you.

“Fuck, she feels so good,” your ex said to your boyfriend as he felt your orgasm rippling around him. His grip on your hips tightened as he guided you even faster before slamming you down on him and holding you there, filling you with his release and igniting another aftershock of pleasure.

Charles groaned at the sight of you sagging back into Pierre’s embrace as you basked in the afterglow and his cock pulsed in his hand with thick ropes of cum spilling over his fist.

Pierre tipped his head back into the headrest as he regained his breath and his fingers drew small designs over your thighs. “You’re a lucky man, Cha.”

“You had your chance.” You whimpered at the emptiness as you shifted off Pierre’s lap and pulled your jeans back up.

“Maybe we can come to some other arrangement,” Pierre suggested. “We both know I’m not boyfriend material, that’s all Charles, but you have to admit this felt good.”

The high you had been riding faded and reality set in as you looked at Charles. “Is this what you want?”

“I think it’s safe to say we all enjoyed it,” he noted as he found a napkin in a cup holder and started to clean up the mess on his hand and you giggled at the statement.

“Yeah, but it’s a recipe for disaster. Fuckboy’s don’t belong in relationships.”

“I agree,” Pierre chuckled as he tucked himself away and zipped his jeans up. “That’s not really what we had planned.”

“If you were comfortable of course,” Charles confirmed.

“I told him about your exhibition kink,” Pierre said with a smirk. “Turns out he’s a bit of a voyeur and likes to watch. And, well, I like to fuck. So whenever you want, I’m up for giving a little show. What are friends for?”

You chewed your lip at the thought of the arrangement, the idea making your skin heat once again. “And what if I want more than a show?”

Both men sat up a little straighter and Charles ran his thumb over his bottom lip. “Like what, cherie?”

Shyness had you looking away from his green eyes and you watched the sea way down the bottom of the mountain instead. “What if I wanted both of you, at the same time?”

Pierre’s chest pushed against you as it puffed with a sharp intake of air and he looked at Charles for an answer. Everyone knew Pierre was up for nearly anything but you had thought Charles was more conservative until today and you weren’t sure what his answer would be, or if you had in fact just ruined not only your relationship but their friendship too.

“I’m okay with that,” Charles said, his throat bobbing with the deep swallow he took. “Pierre?”

“Get us to Milan, Charles,” he replied. “Your car is too small for that.”

Click here for part two.

F1 Tagging: @91vhs @alwaysclassyeagle @applespiez @ravenqueen27 @booksobsess @tempo-rary-fix @baw-sixteen @im-an-overthinker @notleclerc

A/N: please let me know if you want to be tagged in all of my F1 fics 💕

[mionemymind]

The Driver & The Witch

Summary: Small moments of what it's like for Wanda and her F1 driver girlfriend.

A/n: For my favorite anon S!, Happy Birthday. I know you wished for incorrect quotes but I also wanted to give you this. I hope you enjoyed today's race and this past weekend. Much love! (Gif Credits to @overtake)

Masterlist

“Dekta, I need you to win this,” Wanda said as she strapped the HANS device to Y/n’s helmet. Everyone around them was busy making sure the car was ready for the race as Wanda and Y/n did their race ritual. 

The red head gave a small kiss at the lower side of the helmet, leaving an imprint of her lipstick on it for goodluck. “Do you understand me?” 

The sparkle in Y/n’s eye was hard to ignore as she nodded her head yes, feeling oh-so proud that she was able to even call Wanda her girlfriend. “Perfect, ‘cause if Max wins today, Tony will undeniably hold it over me for the rest of my life.” 

“Are you betting on today’s winner, babe?” Wanda acted coy as she looked off into the distance. “More like ensuring that Tony knows that my girlfriend is the best. Nothing more. Nothing less.” 

“Jesus christ, are they seriously trying to give Ricciardo his seat?” Wanda was in the kitchen cutting up tomatoes as she prepared their dinner. “Are they trying to piss me off?”

Y/n laughed from behind as she slid her arms around Wanda’s waist. “You seem to be more pissed off about me possibly losing my seat than I am.” 

Wanda turned around with a deadly glare. “Does it look like I want to be an Aston Martin fan? Last thing I need is you embarrassing the CEO’s son.” 

Y/n smiled widely as she kissed Wanda’s cheek, hoping to calm her girlfriend down. “And if I were to go to Ferrari?”

“Red would look good on you and I, but a messed up strategy doesn’t.” Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle at Wanda’s comments. 

“You know I love you right?”

“Set up the table and maybe I will.” 

“Why can’t I come over?” Charles whined as the two walked away. “It’s been ages since we hung out and I’m dying to play.” 

“Well my girlfriend kind of hates you.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders as she made sure no one was around to hear her comment. “Ever since you made me crash last year-”

“Oh come on! That wasn’t my fault.” 

“If you can tell that to my very powerful girlfriend, then sure, come over.” 

“....fine, I’ll just have to sneak in when she’s not around…”

“Your girlfriend drives pretty fast.” Tony said as he popped a grape in his mouth. The Avengers were having their monthly check in and Tony was dying to talk to Wanda. 

“She does.” Wanda hadn’t looked up from her phone, not wanting to give attention to Tony at that moment. 

“Would she be interested in driving for a new team?”

“Depends on the team.”

“Stark Industries?” Wanda finally looked up from her phone. 

“...tell me more…”

[cryingat300kph]

Pretty Thing

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Boytoy!Mechanic!Reader

(Bad) Summary: When Ferrari gets a new pretty boy for a mechanic a certain 4x world champion takes notice.

Rating: M Warning(s): Mentions of sex, but no actual sex. Cursing. Use of Y/N. Allusion to homophobia in sports. F slur (but in a self-descriptive and reclaimed way) -Not Proofread-

Length: 1.4K Words

A/N: This is Seb in his chaotic flirt Ferrari era, like 1st/2nd year at Ferrari vibes. Also the ending is kinda cut off because I lost steam, but wanted to put something out. Let me know if ya’ll want this continued, I have ideas ;) <3

“Lewis look, that’s who I was talking about.” Seb says poking Lewis’s arm gesturing towards the bar. “Him?!” Lewis asks turning back to Seb. “Yeah.” Seb suppresses the urge to add Isn’t he pretty? “Damn I'm surprised they would hire a mechanic so-“ “so gay?” Sebastian supplies. “Heh-Yeah.” “Well he usually doesn’t look like that.” Seb says again gesturing towards the man.

The “that” Seb is referring to is the absolute twink uniform you are wearing. You might as well be wearing a flashing sign reading “I like dick! ;)” And Sebastian thinks you look completely and utterly delectable; more than usual.

He’d had his eyes on you since you joined the team at the top of the year. At first he noticed you because were young for someone not on the PR team, and far too handsome to not be in a more front-facing role. He was glad he was known to make sure to get to know all new members of the Ferrari family, because it meant he could satisfy this curiosity; finding out you had climbed the ladder at the factory quickly and had always wanted nothing more than to be in the garage track-side.

His interest in you only grew as he got to know you better. He knew obviously that as a mechanic you weren’t just a pretty face, but he soon found out you weren’t just either of those things. But someone who was extremely funny, kind and just as much of a nerd about racing as he was.

And so, a friendship slightly-beyond coworkers started to form. Now, at halfway through the season you two could be called proper friends, but your friendship is still very tied to work. Either way, you feel comfortable around Seb, comfortable enough to speak freely of your interests and life outside of racing. However, one thing he doesn’t know about you was that you don’t mind sharing a bed with a man.

Its hard being queer in formula one. It’s 2015 and huge strides have been made, but motorsports lags behind. Especially as someone who is involved in a more “masculine” job at Ferrari you keeps your more flamboyant tendencies under wraps. European ideas of masculinity help a lot, but it’s still a bit lonely, stressful and draining, to be closeted.

Hence why you’re here.

It had been a stressful race weekend, but Seb ultimately got podium and everyone was rightfully really happy and the team planned to go for drinks with the winning Mercedes team.

Seb had protested a bit when you said you thought you’d sit this one out. “I would, trust me, but I’ve had this headache all day and I doubt a hangover will make it any better.” You lied. He had seemed to come back to himself, like his earlier protest was a slip. Laughing it off. “You’re right, go, rest. We need your brain intact!”

You had chuckled at that saying bye to him and driving back to the hotel to get changed before heading out for your real plans. You felt bad lying to Seb but after this weekend a guy needed some attention damn it! But most importantly you wanted to dress how you want and exist how you want for once even just for a couple of hours.

---

Without you at the party Sebastian is more melancholy than usual. He's cursing himself for crushing like a teenager, but without you there he’s lost interest. “Dude is this about the guy you told me about.” Lewis asks seeing Seb is obviously down about something. “what? no- it” “Where is he? Go talk to him!" “He’s not here, had a headache so he stayed back.” “Well you don’t seem to be having fun so go after him, just ask to hang out.” “But the team, i should-.” “Kimi is enough of a party for the team, he’d probably enjoy the company.” Lewis nudges him. “You know why I can’t Lewis.” Seb says seriously. “Yeah.” Lewis agrees and they’re silent for a bit before he speaks up again, mischief in his voice. “But maybe we could find some other entertainment for the night. To quell the ache?” “What are you suggesting?” Seb asks suspicious. “There’s a bar a couple blocks from here. Heard its a discreet spot, good for cruising.” He says like he’s stating the weather and not suggesting the two biggest F1 drivers at the moment go cruising for gay sex.“What if someone sees us.” “we’re in America, no one knows who we are.” And Seb is just tipsy enough, and yearning to fuck a stranger and imagine it’s you, so he agrees.

“Let’s do it!”

---

And so, Sebastian now finds himself at a loss for words, staring at you. At you, sipping a cocktail, half sitting on a bar stool, your back slightly arched. Honestly the picture is so inviting. Lewis is just looking at him with a smirk.

Sebastian sees that a couple men obviously have their eyes on you too. He watches as the bartender hands you a drink gesturing to one of the said men. You look over and the man starts to get up. Seb feels his fists tighten, but he relaxes when you hand the drink back to the bartender looking at the man apologetically. He’s glad the man gets the idea and sits back down, Seb doesn’t want to think what he would have done if the man had persisted.

Wait, so maybe you’re just out for a nice night alone, he doesn’t want to disturb that. But dressed like that? He’s having a hard time resisting.

“Lewis what do I do?” He asks. “The flirt is asking me?“ Lewis scoffs, but when Seb just looks at him annoyed, he Chuckles; he’s never seen the confident man so nervous before. “Just, go get him tiger.”

He knows it’s now or never, so Sebastian goes to the opposite end of the bar and tells the bartender to get you a drink.

-- The bartender hands you another drink. It’s top shelf which catches your eye. A couple men have bought you shots and stuff throughout the night but so far when the bartender pointed to who they all weren’t your type. Or they quickly stopped being your type the moment they opened their mouths.

When you ask who, this time, the bartender cocks his head to the end of the bar. You look over and it’s Sebastian! Your eyes go wide, unsure of what to do. What is he doing here?! Here, where you are looking like a complete faggot and nothing like you do at work. But he’s your friend right, he would’ve found out eventually and he just bought you a drink?

You tamp down the flicker of hope that tries to spark. So you just smile and raise the drink to him raising your eyebrows. It’s friendly coworker shit right? He’s just being nice. Your brain is forced to stop working overtime when he approaches you and starts speaking.

“I could barely recognize you y/n!” He says smiling and friendly, but with a hint of something? And he is blatantly looking you up and down. Tongue between his teeth. Oh. You can’t help lighting up despite being nervous. “Well let’s just say the Ferrari uniform is not my personal style.” You joke. “This definitely suits you much better.” He blatantly flirts, which catches you bit off guard, but you try not to show it, excitement now replacing your nerves. “You think the boss will let me wear a crop top to work?” “Maybe I could ask him nicely.” Sebastian says and then leans closer.

“Having something so pretty in my garage can only bring me good luck right?” “Oh, I don’t think you need luck, Seb.” You laugh because now you are definitely blushing.

“Every driver needs luck.” He says low.

The way he's looking at you. It’s almost too much. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. In the span of a few minutes you’ve basically come out to a coworker turned friend, but also discovered that apparently Sebastian Vettel, Ferrari driver, four time world champion also likes men. And now said Ferrari driver and friend is flirting with you.

You can't wait to see where the night goes.

[st4rg1rl-16]

━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ arabella talks about her past on her first appearance on drive to survive and attends her first formula one gala on melbourne

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 24 march

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ melbourne, australia

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ only cursing i believe

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ I wrote the fic a little over a year ago when I started to like f1 so the first chapters sucks, this one specially it’s short and doesn’t happens much on it but it’s a start. It will get better and more dramatic, you will see 😮‍💨

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @burberryfilms @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg

• — need for speed’s masterlist

"ARE you nervous?" At the cameraman's question, the girl dressed in red looked up but didn’t raise her head.

“Why?” English slid across her tongue mixed with a soft spanish accent. Her accent was not as pronounced as the other two hispanic drivers, but if you listened carefully, you could hear it clearly “Do I look nervous?”.

“No, no, no, you look very good” The man was quick to shake his head at her, making her smile slyly.

“Damn right I do” The staff laughed at the girl's self-centeredness when she moved in her seat in a more comfortable position and looked directly at the camera raising both eyebrows.

The coordinator approached the cameraman and looked at her with a slight smile "Okay, Arabella. Are you ready?”.

Releasing an affirmative 'Mmmh' she straightened her back again. She placed her right leg over her left thigh and gripped her ankle, leaning forward slightly in the chair.

"Introduce yourself and we'll proceed to the questions, then you can leave" The girl, still a little surprised to find herself there, nodded and began to play with the silver chain that hung around her neck.

It had been five months since she had signed with Ferrari to enter Formula One and she still couldn't believe it, despite being in a room sitting in front of a dark background with thousands of eyes looking at her and cameras recording her as she told her story so that came out in a Netflix documentary like she was a rock star or something.

It was fucking crazy.

“I'm Arabella Torres and I’m a driver for Scuderia Ferrari” She smiled without showing her teeth and looked at the woman who would ask the questions, who made a gesture encouraging her to continue “I was born in Madrid, Spain and I've always wanted to be a Formula One driver. It's been five months since I've done it and, uhm, I still can’t believe this isn't a dream”.

“At what age did you start driving?”.

“Officially?” She asked and the director laughed while the interviewer nodded “At nine years old. When I was seven I was given my first kart, well actually it was for my little brother, Oliver, who is now a motorcycle driver, but he was very young and was more interested in Pokémon than cars. Anyway, I took over the go-kart and started racing 'illegally'” She made quotation marks with the index and middle fingers of both hands and laughed “I raced against other kids at the go-kart track that they put on at fairs every spring and summer in my neighborhood. Parents bet money against their children”.

There were several laughs and she smiled, shrugging her shoulders.

“When I was nine years old, my father signed me up for the Spanish Karting Championship. I won” She made a face of obviousness raising both eyebrows. "After that I began to climb categories. I won all the races. I remember thinking that it was very boring because everyone was very slow and it bored me, it was very easy to win.

“Is that why they call you 'Speedy'?” The blonde, brown-eyed woman shuffled some papers she held in her hands as she crossed her leg over the other.

She pursed her lips. "A narrator from the European Championship called me that. It was in... 2012, I think? I don't know. I finished the race almost two minutes ahead of the second driver, I was the fastest by a lot. I broke the international speed record for the category. I remember I didn't know what it meant because I didn't know much English at the time and I got offended when people started calling me that, I thought they were making fun of me”.

"Poor thing," she let out an empathetic laugh, "Of course, you were only twelve years old at the time and you had never left Spain, right?”.

“Never”.

"Do you like to go fast? As you said, they were very slow and you got bored”.

"I love going fast," She took a deep breath with a big smile on her face, "I feel the need, the need for speed."

“I feel the need, the need for speed!” They all repeated the phrase in unison making her laugh.

"Okay, let's see..." She bit her lip looking for the next question, as soon as she read it she frowned but read it anyway "What is it like to be a woman in this sport? To be the only female driver in Formula One?" One?.

A snort escaped from between her full lips, “That question….”

"How many times have they asked you this?"

“I haven't counted them but I've only been in Formula One for five months and I'm sick of that question already.” She rubbed her forehead and licked her lips before letting out a sigh. “But okay, I'll answer. Whatever” she shrugged unwillingly and the others laughed making her smile “As a child I had no friends. At school they didn't want to hang out with me because I was the weird car girl who sometimes skipped classes to go to competitions, even many of my teachers didn't treat me well for it.

The interviewer looked at her with her mouth open in amazement and Arabella nodded as if to say "It's true, believe it”

“They were angry with me because I didn't go to their classes because maybe I had a championship in a city 500km away and I couldn't go to school in three days. Sometimes they would ask me "Arabella, why are you wasting your time with that?" or "Arabella, you're a girl, that's for boys" and I would get angry because, who were they to tell me what I should do with my life? I thought "my parents have given me permission" and that's all that mattered to me, that my parents agreed and supported me” She adjusted the belt of the red jumpsuit and continued “As for Formula One, I'm not going to lie, it’s hard. Not because of the job itself but because of the people, all those people who criticize me for just being a woman and overestimate me as if I didn't know how to use a car, it's the most difficult thing”.

“Do they send you a lot of hateful messages on social media?”

She clucked her tongue with a wry smile hanging on her lips. "And death threats. I don't give a shit though– oh wait!” She ran her hand up to her mouth and wide-eyed looked around her “Can I swear?”.

The director along with her manager, sitting behind some televisions a few meters away, agreed with a laugh.

She sighed in relief and smirked, "Ah, so.....shit, I don't give a shit. People can say what they want, after all they're sitting at home and I'm the one being paid to drive a fucking Ferrari”.

She looked away from the woman and winked at the camera, the technician blushed and inadvertently turned the angle ever so slightly.

“Tell me about your family. How is your life now that you have got an eight million dollar contract? Because as far as I know, you didn't have a lot of money growing up, right?”.

She turned her gaze to her "Yes, that's true. My parents worked as cashier in supermarkets and we didn't have a lot of money. We had to sell the house because the bills and debts were piling up. After that we moved in with my paternal grandparents and lived with them for a couple of years until we moved to the coast to live with my maternal grandparents. It was difficult because we were eight people living in a five-bedroom house in which the only source of income was my parents. I almost never saw them, they went to work in the morning and came back at night. My grandmother raised me and my brother, that was when I was six years old.” She clenched her jaw and blinked several times, trying not to cry. Her family didn’t have a very good time as far as money was concerned.

She swallowed back tears and continued “When I started winning races, I started making money and with that I helped out at home. We could eat better, my grandmother was in poor health so we could pay for her medicines too, school materials and bills but still most of the money went on trips to the competitions so it was still a bit difficult to pay for things. When I started in Formula 3 I began to earn more money and paid most of my parents' debts, then in Formula 2 I paid my grandparents' debts and house and some other things to my aunts. Now that I earn so much money I have been able to buy a house for myself and I have bought another one for my parents. Now I want to buy one for my grandparents. I want no one in my family to lack anything, ever”.

The lady smiled sadly and nodded. "That's very noble of you. Is that your goal in Formula One, to take care of your family?”.

“It is one of them but not the main one”.

“What is your goal in Formula One?”.

She fixed her gaze on the camera, her face completely changed to a serious and determined one. "Win. I want to be the best, I want to be better than Lewis Hamilton, I want to win the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

"Do you think you'll make it?".

"Oh, I know I will." Her right corner rose pulling her full lips into a self-centered half smile. "Even if I have to die for it, I will."

“GOD, my tits are sweating” She complained while her fingers pulled on the corset, trying to unstick it from her skin so some air could pass through.

The boy let out a laugh that he tried to hide with his hand but she heard him. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Is this funny to you? I'm suffering”.

“It's not every day that I hear that someone's chest is sweating, sorry for laughing” He apologized but she ignored him by pulling at her clothes again. He looked her up and down, delicately observing how the long ferrari red skirt fit around her body, stopping right at her waist letting the corset of the same color expose the skin of her hip.

He wondered where the team's logo was, he had it on his jacket on the side of his chest but the prancing horse wasn’t on her dress.

Without taking his eyes of her, he licked his lips "If it's any consolation, I think you look very pretty."

“Wow, Leclerc” Immediately a flirtatious smile crept across her lips and he rolled his eyes “And here I thought you were going to be rude and not give a compliment to this beautiful lady”.

“Why give you compliments if you already give them to yourself?” He turned his gaze to the window and observed the streets of Melbourne without interest, without a doubt they were not as interesting as the beauty sitting next to her.

A silence filled the car, it wasn't uncomfortable but it was silence and it was killing Charles because he wanted –no, he needed– for her to say something. He needed them to keep talking because he knew that when they got to her gala they were going to snatch her from his arms and he probably wouldn't talk to her again until the next day.

"I think you're very handsome too." With a murmur she broke the silence. Playing with the rings that decorated her fingers and also looked out her window “The suit looks good on you.”

“Thank you, Belle” A feeling of warmth enveloped him and suddenly he felt that the suit was suffocating him. He cleared his throat and shifted in the seat “I heard you recorded with Netflix today, how did it go?”.

She turned her body, with difficulty because of her corset, in the direction of his so that she could better converse with him. She smiled slightly "It was strange?" Her laugh make him smile "I had never done something like this but I liked being able to tell my story and I'm eager for people to see it. I want them to know me for me and not for what the press says or the haters on the internet.

Giving her a somewhat sad smile he took her hand in his and squeezed it affectionately "I'm sure they'll love you."

"Thank you, Charles." Her eyes traveled all over his face as she responded with a grateful smile.

For Arabella, her relationship with her teammate was strange. She knew him from Formula Three but they never spoke because he was older and was always with the boys his age while she only had Mick and Lando as friends since most of the other kids didn't like that there was a girl in Formula Three, much less one that was who was kicking their asses. It was when she started in the Ferrari academy in 2016 that they were introduced to each other but they didn’t hang out too much since he was still affected by the death of his godfather, Jules Bianchi, and she was very focused on finishing her studies to be able to focus on her career better.

Eight months ago, Ferrari was beginning to tease that both would be the next drivers for Formula One, so their managers suggested that they start talking to improve their camaraderie and she couldn't complain, they had a good relationship but it was strange since sometimes there was tension and he had a hard time talking to her, sometimes he seemed shy or cold and that drove her crazy because she only wanted a friend, she didn't have any so being friends with her teammate sounded good.

While for Charles his relationship with Arabella was pleasant or at least it was until a couple of months ago, when he began to look at her with different eyes and he didn’t like that because it was dangerous for both him and her, they would be kicked out of Ferrari because the contract they had signed and Arabella would be massacred on social media, it would be a disaster. Of course, this is speaking in case she also reciprocated his feelings and they started a relationship, but it didn't look like that was going to happen at any time because his teammate didn't even deign to look at him for more than a minute, let alone look at him that way.

He didn't want their friendship to be affected by his little crush, he wanted to be her teammate and her friend, but unfortunately sometimes his feelings got the better of him and he didn't know how to act in front of her so things sometimes became awkward.

“Do you think the sponsors will like me?” Her question caught his attention, taking him away from her thoughts. He looked at her and for a moment he swore he saw a small, insecure girl.

He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and smiled at her "They're going to love you, like everyone else and if not better for me then”.

She let go of his hand, much to his dismay, and gave him a little push on his arm, making him laugh in amusement.

Suddenly screams began to be heard outside the car, drawing the attention of both drivers. Each one looked out their respective window, amazed to see fans crowded at the door of the hotel where the small gala for the beginning of the season would be held.

"We have arrived" The driver informed them, drawing their attention; they didn’t even remembered that there was a third person in the car.

They looked at each other. Charles took a deep breath, placing his hand on the door handle "Wait here, I'll help you down."

“There‘s no need...”

“Yes, there is” And with that he got out of the car, the screams increased.

The girl took a breath and began to play with the pearl necklace that decorated her neck.

“Hostia puta” Muttered to herself in her native language before sighing and putting a smile on her face. Holy shit.

Just in time the door opened revealing her teammate. He extended his hand towards her offering support, she looked into his eyes and nodded ever so slightly to herself before sliding her hand over his. As soon as she got out of the car, the flashes blinded her and the screams left her deaf for a few seconds until Charles began to pull her towards the hotel door.

She smiled at the cameras and let herself be carried away by the monegasque, who took her arm and wrapped it in his own before leaning towards her ear. His lips lightly brushing against his ear “You're doing so good”

Her body froze, why she suddenly had goosebumps?.

The brown haired boy walked away from her although he was still at a quite questionable distance and locked eyes with her. Arabella frowned slightly, getting lost in his green eyes so light that they seemed transparent unlike her own, which were assimilated to fresh grass.

What was happening?.

“Bella!” Daniel Ricciardo exclaimed as soon as he saw them, interrupting whatever was happening between them. The younger two turned in the direction of the voice, finding themselves with a small group made up of some of their fellow drivers.

“Danny” The girl smiled, letting go of her teammate to head towards the others. Immediately the middle child of the Leclercs felt a sting in his chest when he saw her leaving, but then was distracted when he saw something shining on the girl's lower back.

'FERRARI'

The team's name in capital letters danced with every step the girl took, written in sparkling gems on the skirt of her dress not far from her butt.

“Mon dieu” He breathed out through his nose, shaking his head. It was going to be a very long night. My god.

“I don't know if it's legal for you to drink alcohol in this country” The spaniard male looked with concern at the glass of champagne that was dancing between his compatriot's delicate hands.

"Don't worry, I asked Ricciardo and he said the minimum age here is eighteen” She pursed her plump lips in a smile and brought the glass to her mouth, finishing off the golden liquid in one gulp. She wrinkled his nose “Esto es un coñazo.” This is so fucking boring.

Sainz let out a small laugh behind his glass. “Yes, it is.”

“Ah, I know!” A gasp came out of her mouth and her gaze lit up, which scared the McLaren driver who looked at her with terror “We should escape”.

“No no no no. Don't even think about it, Bella” He left the glass on the bar where they were leaning while he shook his head repeatedly.

A pout appeared on her lips, painted red as her dress “Oh, come on! Please, Carlos” She began to fix the boy's suit as if it wasn’t perfectly ironed, she squinted at him “Tell me you wouldn't eat a hamburger from McDonalds instead of this fucking appetizers that feels like you're eating cardboard”.

He looked at her interested and she smiled, he was going to accept. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the arrival of the monegasque.

He looked at the girl's hands on the older man's chest and frowned. "What are you doing?"

“She's seducing me” The black-haired man murmured in english, earning a pinch from the girl “Oh! Hija de–“ Son of (a bitch).

“We were talking about going to eat something real and not this” She picked up a appetizer that was next to her with a disgusted expression before turning to Charles to look at him curiously “Do you want to come? It seems that Carlitos doesn't want to come with me”.

To be alone with her? In that dress of hers? Without thinking he answered yes and she stuck her tongue out at Carlos, who rolled his eyes.

“If you leave, you should go to your hotel, to sleep and nothing else” Carlos opened his eyes widely and set his tone in the last sentence, insinuating something.

"How boring," She twisted her mouth before taking 16's hand, taking him by surprise "See you, Carlitos. Have a good time, eh”.

In response, the older man gave her the middle finger to which she laughed before beginning to pull her teammate, who looked at the older man over his shoulder.

—Careful— Who with his index and ring fingers pointed to his eyes and then to them as if to say "I'm keeping an eye on you."

An hour and a half later they were both sitting on the hood of a Ferrari devouring some hamburgers while looking at Melbourne from a viewpoint that Daniel had advised Arabella to visit.

“Will we get in trouble for this?” Guilt had begun to form in the female driver’s stomach. What if they got into serious trouble for having escaped? Or worse, what if she got Charles into trouble?.

Even without swallowing his burger and with sauce on the corner of his mouth, he gave him a toothless smile “If we do it, it's worth it. Dieu, those appetizers were horrible”. God.

She laughed thinking he looked adorable, she looked down at the burger in her hands and took another bite.

“Don't worry, we already talked to all the sponsors” Seeing her still worried, he dropped the hamburger on his lap and took her chin in his huge hand, making her turn her face to look at him “We did our job. They will tell us nothing. Calm down, okay?”.

Since she didn't answer, he got closer to her and leaned his hand up to her, forcing her to look up at him "Okay?"

She let out an affirmative "Mmmh" finally looking into his eyes. And suddenly everything stopped: the lights, the noise of the cars, the air moving the trees, the voice of Harry Styles singing the chorus of "Lights Up" from the car radio. Everything, everything stopped and began to move in slow motion when Charles, cautious, began to approach her while her gaze began to run a marathon between her lips and her eyes.

And then everything exploded, everything came to life again at a speed faster than the cars they drives for a living as soon as their lips collided. As cliche as it sounded, Arabella felt fireworks explode around her as the hand holding her chin slid to her throat, Charles's other hand wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. The hamburger she was holding in her hands fell to the ground when she let go of it to bring her hands to the boy's hair, she let out a moan into his mouth when the hand on her neck squeezed in response.

They broke apart as her lungs began to scream for air, Charles resting his forehead on hers before tucking an unruly lock of hair that was covering her face behind her ear. She watched him silently while trying to catch her breath.

He smiled, kissing her forehead to which she let out a sigh, closing her eyes. "This, for this we can get into trouble."

She felt him pull her lips away from her skin and almost moaned in protest but she decided to shut up when he brought their foreheads together again and looked at her so intensely that she felt like she could see into his soul.

“If I get into trouble for you, it's worth it. You are worth it”.

[bellewintersroe]

Charles Leclerc x SchumacherDaughter!

Lila is the youngest of the 3 Schumacher siblings, at 22 shes catching the attention of the public eye. With the new found popularity through Drive to Survive, social media has dubbed her the next ‘it’ girl despite her constant desire for privacy. When her love interest becomes more or less the most sought after man in F1, how will she cope with being the internets fascination? Both Charles and Lila have dealt with immense amounts of loss and trauma, so their mutual understanding for one another fuels their so called ‘friendship’.

Part 2 - no warnings! Filler chapter, slow burn/ start but will start to pick up soon.

From the first time I’d met Charles I knew I’d developed feelings almost instantly. I had always been the the type of girl who caught feelings quickly. Maybe that was a recipe for disaster, wearing my heart on my sleeve, but there wasn’t a single fibre of my body that could prevent it. Not being around the boy was helpful, but the one thing that fuelled the crush even further? Social media, of course.

I had always been private online. All my accounts were locked and I’d never planned on making them public out of the pure fear of gaining too much unwanted attention. That didn’t mean I couldn’t do a stalk however…

I’d find myself laying in bed until stupid hours in the morning for the following week after the Monaco GP, scrolling mindlessly through my searches. The majority of them were amusing- I didn���t seem to worry too much about gaining a hate train online, of course the trolls were there, but keeping as far out of the public eye as possible meant I was semi protected. User: Lila Schumacher sparks relationship rumours with Mercedes driver George Russell, despite him already being in a long term relationship with Carmen Montero Mundt.

I laughed at that one and all the responses telling the reporter to shut the hell up.

User: Charles today with Mick and Lila Schumacher. User: Lila Schumacher makes a rare appearance at the Monaco GP, 28.5.23. User: Lila Schumacher is so beautiful, like her mum, why don’t we see more of her? User: can anybody else see Lila Schumacher being with one of the drivers? Shes so gorgeous I wouldn’t be surprised. ——— > User: she looked to be talking with Charles, he looked v into her so maybe? ——— > User: no not Charles surely? I was thinking she’d be more with somebody like George or Lando.

——— > User: Lila and Charles Leclerc were talking at the Monaco GP, doesn’t mean they’re together but I’d DIE if he looked at me the way he looked at Lila- that’s all I’m saying…

I exited the app after that, deciding I’d read enough, I knew it was stupid to do, but part of me couldn’t help myself. I’d always been a nosy person. So when Mick invited me to come to the Spanish GP, I accepted his offer (much to his surprise). “You’re from Spain? Which part?” I asked Carlos Sainz, whom I’d engaged in a conversation with whilst attempting to find the Ferrari garages before the qualifying. He asked if I wanted leading back to Mercedes but I was trying to find Jean Todt, my God father and dads longtime close friend, so I got a tour from Mr Sainz instead. “Madrid, have you been?”

“Oh yeah, it’s beautiful there, I’ve been a few times…” my eyes glanced up from the floor, gaze landing heavily on the other Ferrari driver now stood in front of me. My breath hitched seeing the surprised looking boy.

“Lila! Hello!” Charles exclaimed, the exact same heart flutter I felt the other week in Monaco had returned. “Hi!” For some reason I was surprised he’d remembered my name, hearing him say it made me feel certain ways. He moved forwards, giving me a quick hug as I clamped my teeth down on my bottom lip so I wouldn’t grin so harshly. “How are you?” I asked. “I am good, I’m good. And you?” Charles was pink in the cheeks, brown eyes practically sparkling in the Spanish sun. He looked like Prince Charming or something out of a fairy tail, I found him intoxicating.

“Good, thank you.” I breathlessly spoke, “you have met Carlotto?” He then grinned as I snapped my attention back up to Carlos with a slight furrow of my brows. “Carlotto?”

“Lord Perceval.” I giggled out at the name now, turning back to Charles who was staring right back to Carlos with a wide eyed expression. “Lord Perceval? Is that a nickname, or?”

“No, no, no!” Charles laughed. “That’s my.. um that’s my middle name. Perceval.” Charles explained as I felt my cheeks beating up, hearing Carlos too giggling along. “Oh!” I exclaimed. “How posh.” I shrugged as he laughed slightly back to me with an uneasy, “yeah.”

“I better go find Jean anyway, has anybody seen him?”

“Oh, Jean? He’s in that way.” Charles pointed towards three different doors. I frowned in confusion. “Charles, show her, your directions are bad.” Carlos pointed out as I giggled nervously.

“It’s okay, I’ll try find him.”

“No, no, I’ll show you.” Charles insisted as I bit back a smile. “Thanks for getting me here anyway.” I thanked Carlos. “It’s ok.” The Spanish man politely smiled. “Chiedile un appuntamento.” Carlos then spoke to Charles as I glanced away, no clue what the hell they were speaking. Italian maybe? It wasn’t French and definitely wasn’t Spanish. When I did look up, Charles was staring back at Carlos wide eyes in a manner as though to say, shut the hell up. I pretended not to notice as Carlos giggled, patting me on the upper back before I began following Charles.

“I think he should be this way. I could be wrong.” Charles stumbled forwards, turning over his shoulder as I caught up besides him. “It’s okay, I don’t need him urgently, I just wanted to say hi.” And say hello to you.

“He is your god father, right?” Charles questioned as I nodded. “Yeah, he’s my dads friend.”

“Ah.” Charles nodded, and for a brief few seconds, I felt a little awkward. I was lost for words, dwelling in my nerves that had appeared now I was semi alone with Charles.

“I think I saw you earlier.” Charles then pointed out. “Oh yeah? Where?”

“Playing tennis at the hotel, I think it was you there? You looked good- at playing tennis I mean, but you did look good as well, merde, it might not have been you.” Charles stammered as I felt myself becoming somewhat breathless again, when he was nervous I felt this warm rush of excitement run through me, but it somehow made me feel nervous too. His compliment made me laugh, realising exactly what he was talking about.

“Yeah that was me, I was playing with another girl?” I tilted my head to look at the smiling boy. I hadn’t seen his smile falter once since seeing him again, I enjoyed the way it would lift up his eyes, the dimples forming in his cheeks and the way his teeth would poke through every now and then.

“Ah, yes it was you.” Charles shyly spoke. “Yeah, I’m not very good. I just like playing.” I grabbed at my blonde hair nervously. “I play too, I am bad.” Charles laughed out. “I’m sure you’re not that bad!” He responded with an uneasy noise.

“I just think you would beat me.” The fact he had noticed me earlier this morning had made me go all red in the face, I felt all giggly and weak in the knees.

“No way, I’m really bad. Trust me, I just play for fun.” I bashfully spoke, thanking him quickly as he opened the door for me. Jean wasn’t in sight ahead of me, so it gave me a little more time with Charles which I was thankful for.

“Me too.” He grinned as I offered him a smile in response, turning to my left to see Jean not too far ahead, sitting down and mid conversation. “Oh, there he is! Thank you for showing me around, I’d be lost without you and Carlos.” I joked, pausing to stand directly across from him now. “It’s ok, it gets confusing in here.” He shrugged as I nodded, going to turn around. “It was nice to see to see you again.” He quickly spoke, causing me to halt my movements and turn up once again. There was a slight height difference between us, I only stood at 5”3, and he was nearing 6 foot, I guessed?

“Yeah you too, if you see me playing tennis again feel free to say hi.” I giggled, shrugging nervously. “I will.” Charles laughed as I timidly broke eye contact, turning to go find Jean. “Oh!” Charles exclaimed again. I turned around.

“I was- we could play tennis maybe? If you would like to?” His words made my heart literally jump and I swear he could see the way my smile tugged up. I was nodding before I even replied, borderline too stunned and shy to speak.

“As long as you let me win you.” I managed to blurt out as he laughed once again, pulling out his phone. “I can probably do that… well you could do that.” He corrected, unlocking his phone and clicking on his phone book.

“Oh.” I perked, pulling out my phone, ensuring to clear any embarrassing messages from my notifications before allowing him to type his number in. It felt like a fever dream, no man had asked for my number before, it was always Snapchat or Instagram first- it felt slightly more… personal? I liked it.

“I will text you.” Charles nodded. “Okay, see you soon, Charles.”

“Bye, Lila…”

[emchante]

i personally disagree w the idea that max deserves to do donuts over lewis

i say that as a fan of both of them

i do think other drivers like valtteri and kmag shouldve gotten to do donuts and have some celebrations like the veterans of the sport

maybe even carlos cuz its his last w ferrari but hes not leaving the sport completely so ig kinda iffy

and then maybe lewis go last

but this race wasnt rly ab max that was more vegas

so maybe vegas he shouldve got to do some

but lewis isn't just "changing teams"

he and merc made history and he gave sm to the sport

hes leaving a team he and we never thought hed leave

ppl everywhere acting confused as to why this is such a huge deal as if everyone wasn't collectively shocked when it was announced

they had 12 years of the most successful driver and team partnership in history and he also managed an incredible drive to end it

i dont even appreciate how merc have been treating lewis but tbh they've built sm tg even ppl who were excited for him to leave are in their feels

i dont think im biased given im a huge fan of both of them

i keep seeing ppl say its not a big deal and it rly bugs me

if it wasn't he wouldn't have gotten the opportunity to do the donuts celebrate and have one last moment

no hate i just think its unfair to reduce this to just "switching teams"

hello, nonnie!! i’ll delve into this under the cut, as to not clog the dash!!

first off, i want to clarify something. i realise what i rb’d says max should’ve got to do donuts— that actually wasn’t the main point of me rbing it!! being brutally honest, the rb was just showing i agreed with the fact i didn’t agree with lewis getting a special finishing position + donut secrion. you could argue max should’ve done them in vegas, but you could also argue he should’ve done them in abu dhabi— it really just depends on the fan.

and i agree, valterri, kmag and any others who wouldn’t be on the grid next year should’ve got the donuts celebration to themselves.

but i don’t agree with carlos, and i say that as a carlos fan! switching team doesn’t mean you should get some special donuts, or a special finishing place.

now, as someone who’s a fan of lewis— not a mega fan, but i do support him and i respect how much he’s done and achieved in the sport— i totally get how big his impact with mercedes is. yes, we thought he’d never leave. yes, they’ve done a lot together. but.. so have other teams, yknow?

you didn’t see seb getting special donuts or placements when he left rbr after getting their first four and only (at the time) championships. you could argue that well, lewis had more impact than seb. fair enough!! but if we’re going off of the impact and history, i’d argue seb still done a decent amount for rbr and what they achieved.

and i respect your opinions completely, we all have differing ones, that’s what makes us as humans so interesting!!

but to me, i don’t think he needed a special celebration or finish position. same way i don’t think max will need one when/if he leaves red bull for another team. if he retires instead of moving? totally different story.

but, lewis is going from mercedes to the most popular team in f1 (as in, to outside viewers. most people will know ferrari and the greats, yknow?), he isn’t retiring so to me, i didn’t think he should’ve had that special spot, taking away from the drivers— young and old— who were leaving the sport that day.

[karatekels]

Fresh Start - Day 12 (Part 1)

I had to break Day 12 into 2 parts for my own sanity; I hope you don't mind!

Days 4 & 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Days 8 & 9 | Days 10 & 11 (Future updates will be added below!)

---

Day 12 - Afternoon

You are running late the next day as you drive up to Terry’s house. You hear your phone vibrate a second time from within your bag, and you just know that it’s him. Ignoring it, you listen to the car’s GPS, making the last few turns through the glamorous neighbourhood before approaching the gate outside of Terry’s home. Reaching through your window, you hit the buzzer.

“Mr. Silver’s residence. Please state your name and business.”

“Hi Victor! It’s Y/N, your favourite trespasser! I’m here to see Terry,” you announce cheerily. There is no response, but after a moment the gate swings open. Bothering Victor wasn’t as fun when you couldn’t see his reaction.

Driving through the gate, you head up the winding driveway, parking beside Terry’s Ferrari. Hoping that was alright – maybe Victor would get his revenge and have it towed – you hop out of the car with your bag, walking up to the front door.

Before you can knock, it swings open, revealing Terry with a scowl that doesn’t meet his eyes.

“I know I know, I’m late, I’m sorry!” you say apologetically as you walk past him into the front entrance, your voice echoing through the halls. This place was huge; you’d known it would be, but seeing it with your own eyes was another thing entirely. “This place is incredible,” you breathe.

“I’m glad it lives up to your standards,” comes Terry’s reply behind you. You spin around to face him, grinning at him sheepishly, giving him the thumbs up with both hands. He snatches one of your wrists up suddenly, making you flinch reflexively, but all he does is inspect your hand.

“What on earth have you done to your hands, Y/N?” he asks, looking over the collection of bandages decorating your fingers with mild concern.

“Well, you’re to blame for that, actually,” you say, laughing as you tug your arm out of his grip, giving him a brief hug. “They’re from getting your present together.”

“You got me a present?” Terry asks, a slight smile curving his lips that you find incredibly sweet. “What is it, a rabid cat you found on the street?” he jokes, reaching out once again to brush over one of the band-aids with his thumb. You can’t help but squeeze his finger lightly in response.

“Of course you’re getting a present,” you say exasperatedly, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “Granted, it was difficult to come up with something for the man who has everything. What did you think I was doing yesterday?”

“I thought you were buying gifts for people back home,” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

You smile sheepishly up at him. “I lied,” you announced proudly. “It’s why I was late today too, but hopefully it will all be worth it.”

“Well, what is it?”

“So impatient, Mr. Silver,” you tease, clutching your bag to you protectively. “I believe I was promised the grand tour; you hold up your end of the bargain, and then I’ll see if I even want to give you your present.”

“Well, I’d better put on one hell of a show then, hmm?” he replies, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you into his home.

---

The “grand tour” had gone on for well over two hours; not only was Terry’s home absolutely massive, but he had so much within these walls to show you.  You had spent twenty minutes in the library alone, and would have been content to spend the day there, poring over his collection.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” you had said at the time, perhaps a bit more flirtatiously than was wise.

“Of course,” Terry had replied, his eyes twinkling down at you. “If I revealed everything all at once, it would be a lot more difficult to convince you to come back for a visit, now wouldn’t it?”

You hadn’t been able to stop the wide smile that broke out across your face, or the blush in your cheeks, feeling more pleased at his interest in having you back in town than upset at the thought of leaving in the first place.

After managing to get you out of the library, he had led you past the grand staircase that ran through the home – “just bedrooms and bathrooms on the third floor, nothing special” – to show you his office, a solarium filled with plants that took your breath away, and the wing of the house dedicated to his personal dojo and collection of Japanese artifacts. You had tried to convince him to show you some karate, but he refused, saying he drew the line at making a spectacle of himself. Like he wasn’t already a wonder to behold…

The first floor had also been a surprise; while obviously very opulent, it was also very warm and comfortable, including a beautiful kitchen, living room with a home theatre system (he had made sure to point out the original painting he had told you about in the museum, sending you both into a spirited debate about the value of owning originals again), and dining room. It felt lived in and happy, and you were glad for that – this was such a big space to live in alone (aside from the staff); you were grateful that it felt cozy for him.

 Finally, he led you outside, through his expansive gardens which you immediately loved more than the ones you had visited with him the other day, his outdoor pool and hot tub, and then around the corner, to the path that led to the beachfront; the place where you had first met, not even ten days ago. You can hear the waves crashing against the sand in the distance as you turn to face him, his expression telling you that he was likely thinking the same thing as you were.

“It seems like so much longer than nine days since we were here last,” you comment quietly, looking up at him with a shy smile. You can’t think of another time in your life when you had gotten so close to someone so fast, but with Terry the pacing just felt natural.

“I still haven’t thanked Victor for his persistence,” Terry quips, chuckling softly. “If he hadn’t bothered reading you the Riot Act, we never would have met.”

“We truly owe him a lifetime of gratitude for manhandling me,” you giggle, before biting your lip nervously. “Well, I guess it’s appropriate to give you your gift here, then.”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a large square of canvas folded in half, and hand it to him.

“TA-DA!” you exclaim with a flourish, and he gives you an amused quirk of his lips.

“What’s this?” he asks, looking down at the fabric.

“Your present,” you answer him patiently, trying not to bounce on your toes in anticipation. You really hope he likes it…

Terry unfolds the fabric, revealing an embroidery of two white flowers, their stems twined around one another. Across the top, the scientific name, yerba mansa, is written in thread, while below, its common name, lizard’s tail, is scrawled to match.

“I took apart my already-ruined tote bag, a hotel linen napkin, and three articles of clothing!” you announce, oddly proud of your own creativity and resourcefulness. “It took a long time to get it just right – I tried to copy it exactly from the book you gave me, so it’s kind of something we can share even when I’m back home!”

Terry is frozen in place, staring at the embroidery without blinking. You feel nervous, and keep explaining.

“I was looking through the book yesterday, and this is one of the plants that they had around the Teahouse. The common name is lizard’s tail, which made me think of you telling me about Cobra Kai – I know it’s not exactly the same, but I didn’t find any plants named after snakes that seemed as symbolic as this one…” you joke, trailing off when Terry still hasn’t moved.

You try to let the silence stretch, hoping he’ll be the one to break it, but he doesn’t, still seemingly transfixed. You bite your lip.

“Okay look, you don’t like it. I get it, it’s silly. It would look better if I’d had more time, and supplies, and –”

“It’s the most perfect gift anyone has ever given me,” he interrupts you in an oddly hoarse voice.

And then his lips are on yours.

--- Terry’s POV ---

He had thought he had planned everything out to the letter, but once again he had underestimated your tendency to throw a wrench in his plans. As the clock kept ticking after noon, he became more and more nervous; he knew you hadn’t blown him off or forgotten – you were too kind and loyal for that – which made him worry that something had happened to you. He fires off a couple of texts to you to check in, but they go unread and unanswered until finally he gets the notification through the security app on his phone that someone has been let through the gate, and lets out a relieved sigh, knowing that you are here and safe. He immediately notices the bandages covering your hands, checking them over with concern and a deep desire to finally touch you again. Your explanation of the injuries being from working on a gift for him entertains him, his curiosity piqued at what sort of thing you had acquired for him. At your bratty insistence, figuratively holding his gift over your head, he takes you through his home, taking you in at every opportunity. You looked at home here, like you belonged, like he had lived his life and built up this house with you in mind years before he ever met you.

Eventually you make your way outside, through the garden and to the path to the beachfront where he had first spotted you, only days ago. This was where he would make his confession, and do everything in his power to persuade you to stay here with him, just for eternity, please.

Before he can, you insist on giving him your gift. Of course, he acquiesces; he didn’t think he could refrain from giving you anything you wanted. You hand him a piece of fabric, clearly excited about it, and he recognizes it as being the same material from your old bag. Unfolding it, he takes in the image you have made, and your words about how it would tie the two of you together, and finds it difficult to remember how to breathe.

You had made this with your own hands, using your own clothing (something Terry found incredibly intimate), pricking yourself countless times (if the number of bandages decorating your fingers was any indication) with a needle in your haste to give him a token to remember you by, stitching together a memory of your time with him… stitching your story together into a beautiful image that he knew he would cherish until the end of his days.

Something primal burns fiercely within Terry as he takes in your gift, his heart thudding painfully from the emotions raging within him. He had planned on confessing to you here, the place where you had met, but once again you had gotten the jump on him, pouring your own heart out first through the presentation of your gift. It was clear to him that you shared his feelings; there was no need for words now.

Distantly, he recognizes that you are feeling anxious and self-conscious, hearing you mumble some nonsense about him not liking your gift (as if that were a possibility), and his eyes dart over to you, taking in your concave form as your shoulders hunch in on themselves. You silly, silly girl.

“It’s the most perfect gift anyone has ever given me,” Terry admits to you, for once letting the depth of his devotion carry over into his voice; you have him completely at your mercy, at you don’t even seem to recognize it. Your head lifts, seemingly startled by his tone, or his words, or both; it didn’t matter. It was finally time.

He turns to you, reaching down to caress the side of your face and bends to claim your lips with his own. You gasp against his mouth before he feels your dainty hands grab fistfuls of his shirt and pull him down closer to you, kissing him back in a way that has his heart soaring. The fire and passion that you regularly let burst out of you on a whim flows through your lips into the kiss, making him wonder if you loved him as much as he adored you.

Eagerly, he slides his hand from the side of your face to tangle in your hair at the back of your head, the way he had been aching to for what seemed like forever, his other hand coming around your waist, clutching you to him and lifting you onto your toes. You let out a whimper that nearly has him throwing you over his shoulder to take you inside, but he resists, wanting to savour the moment he had been hoping for since he had met you.

He runs his tongue along your lower lip, teasing the spot that you liked to bite when you were nervous or worried about something, and you deepen the kiss, stroking his tongue with your own and sliding your hands up his chest to twine around his neck.

As always, you seem incapable of going without teasing him, testing his control, and he sees no need to restrain himself any further. Sliding his hands down to your hips, Terry lifts you up easily, his hands supporting you with a firm grip on your thighs. You cling to him for support, your legs coming around his waist like they were made to be there, and he growls possessively, walking you both towards the stairs, kissing you desperately without pausing for breath.

“No, wait,” you say, breaking the kiss and squirming out of his grip, your feet back on the ground once more as you throw your arms out towards him. Terry allows you to move back a couple of steps, though he isn’t sure how long he can keep himself from grabbing hold of you again as he observes the way that you’re panting for breath through your kiss-swollen lips. Christ, you were beautiful.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, we don’t need to rush this,” he purrs soothingly, stepping towards you.

“Terry, no. We can’t do this,” you insist, your body turning in on itself again, like you were trying to shrink yourself down to escape his gaze. As if it was possible for him to overlook you.

“We can, we should, we will,” he croons passionately, trying to close the distance between you while you back away from him until your back hits a tree. He takes the opportunity to cage you against it with his arms, his forehead resting on yours. “I don’t know why we waited so long, but there’s still time to make up for it,” he says softly, gently taking your chin in one hand and tilting your face up to look at him. You shudder.

“We don’t have time, Terry!” you cry out, though your voice is still soft. “I leave in two days!”

“So stay,” he murmurs, looking deeply into your eyes. It would be no problem; on the contrary, it would be the ideal situation. He would keep you here in his home until it was your home as well. He would take care of everything.

“I can’t!” Your breathing is becoming frantic, like you’re starting to hyperventilate. But what could you possibly be scared of?

“Of course you can, my dear. We were meant to be.”

“I can’t just up and leave home, Terry, it’s crazy. We barely know each other.”

Well, that was hardly true. He was still trying to understand all of your strange, unpredictable eccentricities, but that was what the future was for. And you already knew him better than anyone else did.

“We know enough,” he insists, his thumbs wiping away your tears as they spill over. He understands that this must be overwhelming for you and tries his best to console you. “I’ve known enough for awhile now, and I think you have too. I know it’s crazy, Y/N, and scary, and fast, but you know this is right. I know you do.”

“I have to go,” you say decisively, your voice suddenly clear and determined as you slip under his arm and make for the stairs. He catches your hand before you can get away, keeping you in place. You couldn’t leave; it wasn’t part of the plan, Terry thinks, his heart somehow sinking into his stomach and rising to catch in his throat all at once as he starts to panic.

“We can figure this out together,” he whispers, desperation evident in his voice. His eyes scan your body, looking for any sign of your faltering resolve that he could cling to.

“Please let me go, Terry,” you breathe brokenly through your tears. “I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.”

He releases your hand as if you’ve burned him; something about you crying and begging him to let you go has sent a jolt through his system. You back up to the stairs, your expression pained and surprised, as if you thought he was going to keep you prisoner here or something. And why wasn’t he? You were clearly confused, you just needed some time to sit with the situation and think things over, clearly…

He watches you scramble up the stairs and out of sight, unsure of why he can’t seem to force his body to move, to go after you.

You don’t come back, and Victor finds him sitting on the stairs some time later, holding onto a scrap of embroidered fabric for dear life.

---

(I'm so sorry; this hurt me more than it hurt you)

Day 12-B | Day 13-A | Day 13-B | Day 13-C | Day 14-A | Day 14-B | Day 14-C

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 18: The Price To Pay

Okay, I admit it. This part of my job is the worst.

The past three mind-numbing hours have been nothing but listening to this dunderhead CEO rant about his new Ferrari. I don’t know what’s worse, the egotistical topic or how he keeps pushing off groping me as normal PDA. God, I can’t wait to kill him.

After the rushed meal he wraps an arm around me and all but tugs me down the sidewalk. Thank God this dress is modest because this perv doesn’t deserve a single inch of any woman. The only downside is that my arms are exposed. The past hours have left my skin vulnerable to scratches and bruises from his ‘love touches.’

“Another date later?” He smirks at me. “Huh baby?”

I stop in my tracks and glare daggers at him. “No.”

His face twitches. “Excuse me?”

“I said no.”

Apparently ‘no’ doesn’t exist in his vocabulary. “I don’t think you-”

“No, you don’t understand.” I push him away and jab a finger into his chest. “Your wealth gives you no position over me. You did not hire me as an escort or esteemed hooker. This was a simple date, nothing more.”

I want to kill him so bad! But this is definitely not the place nor the right time. The Reaper needs to kill him. Not me. And it needs to be somewhere private. Not in front of a five-star restaurant.

The man, still wearing the same dumbfounded expression, gets in his fancy car and drives away. Why do the clean-cut men always have to be so snobbish?

“Hey, Calico! Care to join me?”

Well, not all of them. Bruce Wayne may be rich but at least he treats everyone on the same level.

I look over to where the billionaire playboy is waiting by the place I just came from. This wouldn’t be a date with the intention of killing him. Can I risk it? Does he think I’m being paid for this?

“Sorry Mr. Wayne-”

“Please, call me Bruce,” he smiles warmly.

I can’t help but grow my own sad smile. “Sorry Bruce, but I’m letting go of being an escort.”

“I know,” he replies and walks closer. “I noticed the marks on your arm. I know it’s your decision but you really should inform the authorities if you’re being abused.”

Yes, I could do that. But that leads to investigations. Investigations that might look too closely in my apartment and discover my secret. I can handle a few bruises without getting the police involved.

“I’m fine, really. Maybe it’s just a bad taste in men.” 

A bad taste that is intentional. The men’s behavior pinpoints my targets. I’ve come this far without letting love into my life and for good reason. The fear toxin proved that. Love clouds the senses and increases vulnerability. But if I could choose… If I could have a normal life, I wouldn’t want a hunky jock. I want someone gentle, thoughtful… smart. I guess sapiosexual thoughts are in the works after all. Like a certain someone I know…

“Well if you’re open to the idea, I’d like to take you out to dinner,” Bruce offers. “Not a date. Nothing too fancy. Just two friends.”

So I guess we’re friends now. “Do you promise a healthy dose of sparkling conversation?”

He chuckles at my witty question. “Potentially. If not then I promise the roast chicken is to die for.”

Maybe a normal evening is just what I need. “Alright, I’ll bite.”

He offers an arm, like a real gentleman, and escorts me to a comfortable seat in a corner booth without any uncomfortable touching. We both order the chicken and half an hour later I’m having a normal conversation instead of plotting to kill someone.

“Have you heard about the Reaper?”

Bruce’s casual question makes me pause in-between chewing. It was bound to come up eventually. The news hasn’t stopped reporting my kills so it’s only natural he would ask that. He could ask anyone.

“Rumors,” I answer. “I hear she drinks blood. Some say she’s in kahoots with Batman.”

A few false claims never hurt to hide a lie.

The mention of the caped crusader sparks his interest. “What do you think of him?”

“He’s far better than the police, I’ll tell you that. I don’t care what the news says. I don’t think he killed Dent. Though I must admit his methods appear sloppy.”

“Sloppy?”

“Yes, sloppy. He doesn’t kill, yet some of Gotham’s villains faced death because of him. Like Harvey Dent.”

His arrogant mask falters. “Harvey Dent was not a villain, Calico.”

“I heard differently.” I don’t think we’re on the same page for him to use my first name. “You didn’t invite me out because my parents were rich, did you Bruce?”

Would he want to associate with me if I was any other pedestrian on the street? Or are my instincts right and I really can’t trust anyone?

“Calico… How have you been coping with your parents’ death?” he asks softly.

Is he serious? That’s old news. I’m done grieving. My phobia of failing them is over. If anything their death has helped me become free of it.

“I’m over it. Death is death. They’re gone.” I don’t mean to sound cold but slips out. “I’ve found other things to give my life meaning.”

“What about the Arkham incident?”

I arch my eyebrows. “Their mistake.”

He knows. He must know. Why else would he be asking these questions? He- Uh-oh.

Why the heck is Harley standing outside waving her arms at me? Another good question is how has nobody noticed her? 

“Forgive me Bruce, I’m afraid I’ve been called to an emergency.”

“Everything alright?” he asks as I grip my clutch and try to make a quick escape.

“My friend’s having a small crisis. Nothing too concerning but I do need to go. Thanks for dinner.”

One would think he’d take a hint but instead he tries to follow me. “Calico wait- If you ever need to reach out-”

I halt and hold up a hand to stop him. “I’m a former psychiatrist, Mr. Wayne. I’m pretty sure I’m aware of my own psyche.” As well as yours. “Goodnight.”

Thank God he stays behind. That would be completely awkward if I had to introduce him to my hyper friend. Harley’s picked out an outfit that’s surprisingly tame for her standards. Checkered leggings, knee-high converse, red and black top, and two perky pigtails.

“Hiya, Callie! I’m here to grab ya for Crane. Said something about an experiment involving death.”

“If he’s looking for a mortician’s advice, might I suggest a licensed professional? I have a method to my madness and I’d appreciate it if it went uninterrupted.”

The blonde pouts. “Aw, c’mon! Can’t ya help a friend out?”

“He is anything but friendly,” I bite. “Quit the act, Harley. We are not, nor will we ever be an item. So give it a rest!”

But she doesn’t. Instead she grabs my arm and drags me away. What is it with me being pulled around today? Can’t I just have a quiet evening alone? I shouldn’t fight her, though. Harley’s a loose cannon and for all I know she’ll blow up a whole block if I refuse. So it’s back down to the subway tunnels we go. Down go the walls I’ve been building and all at once my heart races at the thought of seeing the fear doctor.

“We’re here!” Harley chimes. “I brought her, just like ya said!”

Dr. Crane, sitting in a chair with his back turned, merely hums. “Thank you Ms. Quinn, that will be all.”

After the clown girl cartwheels out the door he finally turns away from the vials he’s working on and takes an extra second to admire my attire. His gaze sends shivers down my spine and butterflies twirling in my stomach. Get a grip, Prentiss!

“You’re dressed nicely. Did I interrupt something?”

Keep your cool. “Actually you saved me from an awkward dinner, Dr. Crane.”

He nods. “I see. With whom?”

“Bruce Wayne. Don’t give me that look, he was just being a good friend.”

He’s obviously triggered by the news. Whether it’s from jealousy or concern remains a mystery.

“You two are friends now?” he asks accusingly.

I shrug. “He seems to think so. I got a free meal.”

“Whatever.” He waves the subject away and gestures to his lab table. “There’s some test results I’d like you to see. Some of the subjects didn’t take well to the dose and showed certain signs postmortem I think you’ll find interesting.”

“Oh. Hold on a second.”

I reach into my clutch and pull out my reading glasses. As fun as sneaking around at night has been, it’s taken its toll on my sight. Now let’s see… Interesting. Increased stress on the chordae tendineae. This person literally died of a broken heart. What kind of fear is this linked to?

“What are you wearing?”

I look up from the notes and find Crane staring at me, captivated by something on my face.

“They’re called glasses, Dr. Crane. Like the kind you’re wearing. Duh.”

“No- I mean- Why?”

Is this a trick question? “It’s called getting old. My eyes aren’t what they used to be and I’d rather not wander around Gotham half-blind.” He’s still starting. “What?”

He blinks a few times and shifts his head to look back at his notes. “They make you look… good.”

I scrunch my nose. “Good-good or good-bad?”

“Cute.” He pauses. “And sexy.”

My pulse snaps. He thinks I- What? I mean, I’m flattered. Anyone could say that. But why does it feel different coming from him?

“Um thanks?” Time to go! “If you want my input I’d say that your test subjects have a history of troubled relationships. If that is all, I bid you goodnight.”

Go go go! I hustle back up the stairs and- And it’s raining now. Perfect. Maybe if I stick to the side then the canopies will- No it’s still sopping wet. In less than ten seconds I’m completely soaked. Oh well. At least it’s peaceful.

“You like the rain?” Dr. Crane asks from behind.

Of course he followed me. “The smell and the noise, yes. The constant state of being drenched… not so much.”

He hums approvingly. “I for one find the sight most pleasant.”

No doubt my dress is dripping wet. But the only thing revealing anything are my sleeves slipping off.

“Joke’s on you,” I grumble and tug my hair away. “My dress is not see-through.”

“But your feminine curves aren’t.”

Damn. He’s right. Thank God it’s too dark to see my scars. Not that I should care… But I do. In some bizarre twist of fate I’ve come to want to win his affection. But would anyone be willing to ignore these marks?

“You can look but no touching,” I tease and inch away into the pouring rain. “Another time, Dr. Crane.”

He wants to say more but we both keep quiet. I don’t know what’s holding him back but I’m grateful for it. I’m trying to fight my own battle of wits against the sudden tug at my heart. Maybe someday I’ll meet the same fate as those test subjects.

[preet-01]

Thank you @witchywitchy19 for tagging me!!

Who is your favourite driver?

It’s a tie between Daniel and Sebastian

Do you have any other favourite drivers?

Lewis, Charles, Max, Nico R, and Jenson

Who is your least favourite driver?

Nico Hulkenberg I guess would be at the bottom but it’s more like he’s there and I’m kinda indifferent about it

Do you pull for drivers or do you pull for team as well?

For the most part it’s the drivers. Teams at the end of the day are a business and make questionable decisions all the time

If you like the teams, what team do you pull for?

Ferrari — the history and absurdity/extravagance for everything they do really makes me love them. Like the dance number for the 1000 races was iconic and just so Ferrari.

I think about this often

Williams — again the history of the team and the underdog story they have going on about trying to return to their former glory after so many years at the back makes me want to root for them

How long have you been into F1?

The first race I watched was in 2011. There was a race playing on the tv at a restaurant and we’d watched parts of it. And since then it was something I was aware of but didn’t really follow. Though I did know of Lewis Hamilton and parts of his journey. It wasn’t until 2020 that I actually got into F1

What got you into F1?

I’d watched bits and pieces of races a few times and was knowledgeable about the basics of Lewis’ journey. However, tik tok edits in 2020 led to me watching Drive to Survive during lockdown. After that it was the lore and history that really made me interested

Do you enjoy fanfic/RPF?

I love to read fanfic and I have so many tabs open on my phone with different fics from all sorts of fandom. I really enjoy how creative people are with their fics. I also write my own fanfics that I hope people enjoy as much I enjoy them

How do you view new fans?

I think new fans are great! We were all new fans at one point

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?

VCARB because you get all the benefits of being a Red Bull team (the drinks, access to so many sports, etc) without the stress or pressure that is affiliated with the main team

Are your friends and family into F1?

If I have it on my family will watch with me. My brother has watched dts and is usually aware of the big things happening, but he doesn’t watch every race. And a few of my friends are into F1

Are you open to talking to other fans/friends?

Yes!!! I love talking about F1 and I love hearing other people talk about it

I am tagging @mac-reynolds @felicity-smoak-is-my-goddess and anyone else who wants to participate

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

first off, i would absolutely love to hear all of your thoughts! second, the beef between carlos and charles fans is actually insane. like omg we get it, you prefer one to the other, that doesnt mean that you talk so much shit about the other!! i feel like they just need to get over themselves, like im such a charles girl but like at the end of the day, i love seeing ferrari succeed. whether that is carlos or charles on podium, just be happy that your fav is actually finishing in points and isnt last. - 🏁 anon

exactly!! and i’m not sure why they’re pitting the ferrari boys against each other now more than ever, because carlos has only got 20 more races and then he’s going, so. f1 twt is crazy man, it’s a scary place sometimes lmao

okay so here are my driver thoughts, based on the actual driving and performances and not personalities/who I like best -

- red bull - i think rb would be silly to let checo go. I don’t feel very strongly about him as a person, but he’s proven time and time again that he can at least get close to max. we know no ones matching max’s level, so being close is the best you can do. checo has had wins and lots of podiums these past couple of years, and has proven that he can drive that car reliably with minimal mistakes. if I was rb, i’d be keeping him. there’s no way i’d trade a reliable driver like checo for danny ric i’m sorry but it doesn’t make sense

- ferrari - i fully understand why they’ve chosen to bring lewis on for 25, but there’s no way they’re not slightly debating their decision at the moment. carlos has been on the podium for 100% of races he’s started this year, and lewis hasn’t even finished top 5. yes maybe it’s the car etc etc but… there’s no way they’re not doubting their choice even a tiny bit. if lewis doesn’t prove himself quickly next year i think there are gonna be some regrets

- mercedes - I don’t know if they’re gonna be able to sign any of the big names. they say they have their eye on carlos, fernando etc but honestly they’re not a desirable team. no one wants to go to a team that’s struggling with the car and has been for years. no one wants to go to the team that’s fucked it all up for a 7 time world champion. alonso said himself the other day that it’d be a downgrade for him. they might sign kimi and try and teach and mould him into a senior driver. signing someone young and new might be their best bet honestly

- VCARB - GIVE LIAM LAWSON THAT GODDAMN SEAT. car issue or not, dannys career has taken a steep decline over the last few years. I just think we’re holding so many young racers back (lawson, doohan, drugovich) to keep the same older ones on the grid, even when they’re not performing. yuki is really shining this year so far, and he’s outshining danny massively. judging by his performances this year and last, I don’t think any teams are gonna want to sign mr ricciardo. if they didn’t want him after mclaren and he’d won in that car… why would they want him now?

- mclaren - obvs the papaya boys are going to be there together until at least 26, so no worries there. but… i hope there’s a car upgrade soon, because at the moment, that doesn’t look like a race winning car to me. it won’t happen (at least not for like 5 years at least), but… dare i say i’d love to see lando in a red bull 🤭. it’s obviously unrealistic but god imagine him in that rocketship of a car, with his talent… same with oscar!! I think if you gave those papayas a better car (it’s decent, don’t get me wrong), they’d be unstoppable

- I don’t think logan or zhou will have seats next year. not too sure about the haas guys… they’re weirdly actually doing okay at the moment. I think that williams seat will definitely be open, so it’ll be very interesting to see who slides into that.

- not sure where carlos will end up honestly. most probably sauber, because they’ll be audi in 26 and his dad has a lot of links there. but, I think he’ll really struggle in that car for 25, because frankly, it’s fucking terrible. I just hope he’s happy with wherever he ends up.

that’s all from me for now 😌 please let me know, my f1 girlies, what you think!! who’s going where? who do you want to go where? let’s talk about it <3

[vinvantae]

Baby Steps

Part 23/26

<<< Previous Part

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

You woke up the next morning, you woke up in Maranello with the biggest headache you’d ever had in your life. It should’ve been an easy decision really, simply telling Binotto that you weren’t interested in the contract, but with the way they’d been treating you this year was unlike anything else you’d experienced during your entire time with the team. Even when you first started out, sure there was some pretty blatant sexism, but your superiors had always had your back, always stepped in.

But this felt different, the way you’d been treated since you and Dan became official was unlike anything you’d felt before. It felt like people were talking about you behind your back, perhaps not even with malice, but it still made you feel small. So, maybe the idea of moving to another team was a lot more interesting to you than you’d realised.

“Hey, yn? You awake?” Carlos knocked on your bedroom door. “I made breakfast.”

“I am, I’m coming. Just give me two minutes… Is Milo up?” You called back, slipping out of bed, grabbing some shorts to pull on underneath your t-shirt.

“Yeah, hermosa. I’ve got him dressed and ready for the day.” The Spaniard hummed, it sounded like his back was resting against the door as he spoke. “Was thinking that we could go for some lunch or something today?”

“Sounds good. Wanna move away from the door so you don’t fall in when I open it? As funny as that would be” You teased softly, wiggling the door handle.

He gave you a guilty smile as you stepped out of the room. “Morning.”

“You don’t have to look at me like that.” You grumbled, nudging him with your shoulder.

“I still feel bad about ambushing you, I should’ve just told you why I was taking you to the factory.” He explained.

You wrapped your arms around his middle, giving him a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t have gone then would I? You knew it was the only way to get me in there.”

“So, you’re not mad at me?” He let out a sigh of relief, hugging you back - pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You were so quiet on the way home last night that I thought I’d fucked it up and you’d be on the first flight back to the UK.”

“Not mad, just had a lot to think about… Can we not talk about it right now? I just want to enjoy the rest of this weekend with you without my brain running a million miles an hour.”

He smiled softly. “Of course, Chica. Let’s get you some breakfast. I’ll probably drive us out of the city because pretty much everything here is Ferrari central so that definitely won’t keep it out of your head.”

The two of you went downstairs and you immediately turned your attention to the toddler in the highchair, a bright smile on his little face when he saw you. He reached up for you and you scooped him up, holding him close to your chest.

“Good morning, Jellybean.” You hummed, kissing his cheek. “Get a good night’s sleep?”

“Yes, Mummy!” He grinned. “Uncle Carlos read me a bedtime story in Spanish! I did not know much but it was cool and made me sleepy.”

“Wow, baby, that is cool!” You cooed.

Carlos smiled sweetly, he was so fond of you both - the way he’d watched your son grow up in front of him was truly special. He felt so lucky to have been there for it and as Milo reached for him he felt that familiar warmth in his chest. “So, y/n.”

“So, Carlos…” You hummed.

“I hope you know that if Dan does anything to hurt you or my little Frijolito… I swear he won’t-”

You frowned a little. “Careful of what you’re about to say in front of my son, Carlos.”

The Spaniard took a deep breath and composed himself, holding Milo closer to him - pressing a kiss to the top of the toddler’s head. “Sorry, I just… I love you both so much and he doesn’t know just how lucky he is to be in your life and be a part of this little guy’s life.”

“I think he does, Carlos.” You smiled softly. “He’s always so good at making me feel safe and comfortable.”

“You know it’s only because I care right?” His voice was soft, his dark eyes flickering across your face. “You’ve both been through a lot, especially you and I’d hate for you to feel that kind of pain again.”

You smiled softly, reaching up to squeeze his bicep. “I’ll be okay, I’m a big girl… besides, I’ve got the best friend and the best son in the entire world looking out for me.”

The driver grinned and used his free arm to give you a hug before popping Milo back into his chair and getting you both breakfast. Spanish omelette, one of your favourites. “So, tell me about Dan’s proclamation of love? Was it followed by fireworks? On a bed of roses?”

You rolled your eyes and giggled. “No, we just laid beside each other on the beach and he told me how he felt, and then I said it back. It wasn’t some big event, it was just what I needed.”

“Oh boo. I expected far more from him.” He chuckled softly. “I’ll have to have a word.”

“Don’t be silly.”

After breakfast, the three of you ventured out of Maranello to the bigger city of Modena for the day. Carlos did his best to keep your mind distracted from the heavy decision on your shoulders, but it was hard when you were on Ferrari’s home turf - eagle eyed fans spotting Carlos from a mile away. Milo spent most of the day with his head nestled against your neck, a little nervous from all the attention the Spaniard was getting from the surrounding Italians.

He was usually so loud and boisterous that you knew he must be struggling with it all. You rubbed his back and pressed a kiss to the top of his head as Carlos took photos with another group of fans. “I’m sorry you’re not having fun, jellybean.”

“Jus’ wanna spend time with uncle Carlos… I don't wanna share.” He grumbled.

“I know… how about we just head back to the house? I want you to have fun and remember what I said. It’s okay to leave if you’re not feeling happy.”

“Please, mummy.”

The driver gave you a sorry smile as he rejoined you, placing a hand on the small of Milo’s back. “I’m so sorry… They’re really out in their hoards today.”

“Can we just go back to yours?” You asked softly. “Milo is feeling a bit down having to share your attention.”

“Oh Frijolito.” He sighed, carefully taking the small boy from your arms. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much, let’s go back home and watch cartoon movies and eat snackies okay?”

The toddler suddenly perked up. “Please!”

Carlos smiled and bounced him on his hip as you walked back to the car - people now more cautious to approach now he was engaged in conversation with your son. You followed behind them, acutely aware of the couple in sunglasses who had been following you for most of the day, clearly trying to catch you and Carlos doing… something? Did they really think they were going to catch you cheating on Daniel?

You simply rolled your eyes and climbed into the passenger seat of the car, turning up the music.

“Today wasn’t fantastic, I really am sorry, Hermosa.” The Spaniard apologised.

“Did you see those two people following us as well?” You grumbled. “What did they think they were going to see?”

“No idea. We’re both in very happy relationships and even if we weren’t we’re not stupid enough to broadcast an affair in public.” He snorted, starting the engine. “Besides, you smell.”

“Wow, Carlos, really?” You laughed, rolling your eyes at your best friend’s childish insult. “That’s why you don’t find me attractive, huh?”

“I never said you’re not attractive, Chica.” The driver hummed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “But, you’ve always been a sister to me. I’ve always been comfortable enough to be myself around you, no pressure to be anything but me.”

You smiled. “Right back at you. I’ve never been worried about you. As a girl, every time you make friends with a guy - you always worry they have an ulterior motive, but you? I’ve never had that fear.”

Carlos smiled gently. “Right back at you.”

“I love you both!” Milo called out from the back of the car, clearly feeling left out.

“Oh jellybean, we love you!” You grinned, looking over your shoulder at him. “Wanna watch Cars when we get back?”

“Yes!”

You fished your phone out of your bag as it buzzed, smiling when you saw the message from Dan.

DR: Missing you, hope you’re having a good time. Can’t wait to have you back x

Y/N: Not long, my love. Counting down the hours x

“You two are like little kids I swear.”

Your cheeks flushed and you looked up at Carlos. “Sorry?”

“Smiling and your phone because your boyfriend texted you.” He teased, pulling into the driveway. “So cute it’s kind of gross.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and got out of the car to scoop Milo out of the back, bouncing him on your hip.

“So, if not Daniel, who on the grid would you-“

“Oh don’t you start this again.” You laughed. “I’ve told you, I really wasn’t into any of them before I got to know Daniel and that hasn’t changed. He’s the only one.”

The Spaniard quirked a brow. “So you’re telling me, if you were single and Charles or Pierre approached you for a night of passion, you’d say no?”

“I would absolutely say no.” You groaned. “They’re like kids to me!”

“You’re not that old, Hermosa.” He draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you in close as the three of you walked back inside. “And come on, I’ve seen the way they’ve eyed you up, like a sexy cougar.”

“You can’t say I’m not old and then immediately call me a cougar!” You laughed, pinching him in the size with your free hand. “Now let’s watch cars, hmm?”

“Mummy, what’s a cougar?”

You pressed your lips into a tight line, trying not to laugh. “Yes, Carlos, care to explain to your nephew what a cougar is?”

“It’s a big cat! Like a mountain lion.”

Milo frowned. “Why would mummy be a lion?”

“Uncle Carlos is just being silly, jellybean.” You could see the panic etched onto the driver’s face. “How about we get you into your jammies while he makes us some popcorn?”

“Okay!”

Sorry. He mouthed, sipping towards the kitchen. As you carried your son upstairs, back in England, Dan found himself sitting in his flat bored out of his mind. He was starting to forget how he entertained himself before you came into his life but instead of moping around he grabbed his phone and sent out a text to a couple of his fellow drivers, hoping someone, anyone, would be free so he didn’t blow his brains out. He wasn’t sure who else would even be in the UK, most opting to be around their team’s factories.

LN - sorry mate, in Monaco. Back tomorrow

MV - with Kelly and P, sorry

GR - I’m free. Wanna grab a beer?

Russell. You bloody lifesaver.

After texting a location, the Aussie hopped into a cab and headed to the bar - bouncing his knee up and down impatiently. He was really fond of the young Brit, the two of them had grown close since he’d joined the sport and he really trusted his fellow driver. As he stepped into the building, he felt instantly relieved by George’s comforting grin, the young man pulling him into a friendly hug - patting him on the back.

“Dan, mate, how have you been?” He asked, sitting back down at the bar - Dan joining him, ordering them both a drink.

“Wanna hear something terribly depressing?” Dan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I miss y/n, like she’s only been gone two days and I feel lost. Why am I like this?”

George smiled softly. “Because you’re in love, it’s nice. Like you’ve always been a happy guy but since you started seeing y/n you’ve had this whole change.”

“You think so?”

“Oh for sure. Especially with her son. I think knowing that you’ve got this little family unit waiting for you when you’ve finished a hard weekend has really grounded you.” The younger explained, taking a sip of his beer. “And, seeing your face when Milo comes toddling towards you is so cute.”

Dan’s cheeks flushed a little. “He’s so special. LIke, I’ve always loved kids. You know that, but just the way he looks at me? Makes me feel like I’m doing everything right. I want to make him proud. I want him to look up to me and want to be like me.”

“I know it’s still early in your relationship but I can tell just how much you mean to them both.”

“Down the road, like a long long way down the road… I’d love it if I could like… I’d love to adopt him.” George could see the small smile tugging at the Australian’s lips. “I know that’s a while away but-”

“No, man, it’s actually really touching to hear that. Thank you for sharing with me.” The younger said, giving Daniel’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Dan’s smile grew and they cheers’d their glasses together. He finally felt settled in his life with a job he loved and the girl of his dreams - but he didn’t know yet, that you might be stolen away to Ferrari and you still weren’t sure how to tell him.

Especially because you were seriously considering it.

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

Hope you enjoyed! :)

Next part >>>

@itsmycorneroftheinternet @laura-naruto-fan1998 @marianadj99 @tall-tanned-tattoo @wonderlandofsu @monodreme @theplobnrgone @witchy-whore @gipsyd @feminismisaflawlessbitch @pukklv @walkonthewiidside @reallydeadpoet @shes-unwell-babe @eniram-du @eitak-t @itsbwoken @adiaz-25 @readerselegance @danielricciardo3f1 @ujisworld @withyoutilltheendofthismess @alternativemadchen @sad-fridge2323 @haterpenny @awaterfalls @miahelen @heyitskay-21 @f1thirsttraps @jamieolivia27 @spngi @mpolarisblack @cringe-kats @dudde-44

@letsthedogpackandthecats @stampiej @whatssupeef @lightsoutpierre @cam-blog98 @manuosorioh @sugardontbesweet @skyslowalking @samsationalwilson @dr3lover @fic-for-readers @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy @oneoftwoghosts @amulhermaisfelizdomundo

[antimonyandthyme]

the way I would pay you to write 5 million words of the sebchal vampire au dear GOD

Anon alas I fall short of the might that Georgia K has but IF I ever wrote 5 million words for the sebchal vampire au this is prolly what it’d look like…

Charles has walked the earth through civilizations. He’s older than he can remember. He thinks he saw the pyramids erected. He thinks he’s seen the fall of emperors. Events are blurring in his mind, as are faces. He may have loved once. He doesn’t let himself do so anymore. He understands the pain of forgetting a lover’s countenance, and would not wish that upon his deepest enemies.

Yeah, he still needs blood to survive. He’s adept at breaking into hospitals. A mentor might have called him too soft-hearted before. Dying in the sun is a myth, as are sparkles. The latest vampire fantasy stories always make him chuckle. Humans and their little tales.

To kill time, Charles picks up a hobby every century. After mastering every Chopin etude and Beethoven sonata, Charles decides he needs something new. In Monza he watches some funny looking cars zoom around a funny looking track. Huh.

He meets Sebastian. Oh, he’s fascinating. The man claims to have no interest in Charles, but spends hours giving him tips and helping him adjust. Charles likes listening to him speak. He lets Sebastian win all the challenges Ferrari make them do. Sebastian tries to pretend he doesn’t care. It’s endearing.

He gets careless, wanting so much to impress Sebastian. He gets loose with his tongue. It’s been millennia since he found delight in another’s presence, too aware of the mortality of their tiny, human existences. Seb walks into his motor home one day while Charles has his teeth in a hare’s neck.

Oh, here’s another feeling he hasn’t succumbed to in years. Fear. If Seb were to walk out of his life this instant Charles might just drive a stake through his undying heart. (It would not kill him, it would only hurt.)

Except Seb doesn’t scream. Doesn’t hurl abuse. He sits down and asks Charles for an explanation. Charles tries to encompass thousands of years of wandering into the span of a two hour long conversation. At the end, Seb cradles Charles’ cheek in his hand, says, “You must have been so lonely.”

Charles catches his hand and holds it there. “Not anymore.”

Seb designates himself as Charles’ blood bank. He goes to pet stores and convinces teenagers that he’s raising a family of rabbits. He becomes friendly with a guy named Randy. Here’s another new feeling — jealousy. Seb laughs until he falls over while Charles pouts.

It takes months before Charles can bring himself to feed from Seb. Each time Seb offers, his heart rate spikes and his sweat smells of terror and Charles would rather starve than subject Seb to that. But each time, Seb offers.

Charles takes when he wins his first championship. He takes Seb’s blood, given to him willingly. Takes Seb’s body, makes him moan and whine and beg.

Seb retires and becomes a farmer. A farmer! Charles didn’t think he could love him any more than he already does. He visits in between every race. Seb is his rock, the bookmark that details the centuries.

Years pass and time takes its toll on Seb. The lines around his eyes deepen. Charles remains the same as he always has. It doesn’t matter. Charles loves him all the same. He waits until Seb asks the dreaded question.

Seb does, after his fortieth birthday. Kind and unaccusatory, but still curious. “Why haven’t you changed me?”

Charles hangs his head. Every day he struggles with this desire, this thirst that is greater even than his need for blood. A companion. He’s a monster for even considering the option.

He says, “Because I would die before I subject the one I love to such an existence.”

Seb says, “But I would not be lonely. I would have you.”

Charles shakes his head. After all, Seb is only human. He does not yet understand.

(Anon I’m going to stop here before I drown you in sadness)

[cazimagines]

Niki Lauda x Ferrari's first female engineer/mechanic hcs

Request: Could I request Niki Lauda x Ferrari’s first female engineer/mechanic? It was the 70s so even though she really knows her stuff she gets a lot of crap, and even though they vibe on cars she doesn’t take any from Lauda. She really loves what she does, the kind to stay up all night to finish or fix or tinker with something but usually catches a ride with Niki after races cuz she finds the afterparties boring/pretentious. Hope this isn’t too specific! -��

- You had fought tooth and claw to get where you were. Ferrari's first female engineer. Just thinking over it made you feel giddy. Ever since you were a child you were obsessed with cars and wanted to build them all. At a young age, you started making go-karts, riding them down your street. You would go searching for scraps at the local garage to improve your own kart and then race it against the neighbour's kids. While you enjoyed the ride, the feel of the wind rushing by your face as you travel speedily, you knew your heart always belonged to the actual making of the kart rather than racing

- You were always found around the local garage, and the men were kind enough to show you around and teach you skills, they found it amusing that such a young girl showed interest in such things. They saw it as a little hobby that you would grow out of one day, but they were wrong. This wasn't just a phase, it wasn't just a hobby. It was something you were passionate about and you were determined to follow it through

- And so you did. It had taken a lot. Men didn't like it that a woman was proving better than them. Showing them up. At all chances, they tried to pull you down, prevent you from getting far but even they couldn't deny the skill you had for engineering. In the end, their need for a good engineer won out against their misogyny and you were allowed to join the team. A lot of the men there still treated you like crap, never acknowledging your good work and treating you as if you were an idiot but you knew just being there you were an inspiration for other women who wanted to go into similar professions and you weren't going to give that up. Plus their remarks were easy to ignore until one certain guy came along

- You, like most of the team, scoffed at the fact that this guy Niki had to buy himself into F1. You had all joked around that he wouldn't last the season. He was just a rich boy using daddy's money to have some fun. And maybe Niki knew what was being said of him because he was quick to disprove these things. You had started to admire him, seeing just how skilled he was at driving. That was until he joined Ferrari.

- To give it to him, he didn't seem to mind that you were a female, at least if he did he never vocalized that. He did however choose to critique you and all of your team on everything they did to the car, constantly telling you what you were doing wrong and how you were costing him the races to Hunt. His arrogance pissed you off to no end

- You'd be working on adjusting the engine so it wouldn't fail from the speed it was having to push the car. He'd become up behind you, crossing his arms and shaking his head in annoyance. 'Your doing it wrong' he'd state. 'I'm the engineer, you're the driver' you'd bite back and his eyes would flicker to yours in anger. 'I know my car better than you. That's why all my improvements make my racing better, whereas yours just makes me as mediocre as Hunt'

- You'd throw the spanner to the ground in anger and stand up to glare at him, only inches apart, 'If you think you're improvements are so good why don't you just fire me and do the engineering yourself' 'Fine, I will if all you are going to give is a bitchy attitude towards me' you scoff at his words and storm off

- You thought that was it. That was the end of your time at Ferrari. But your resignation never came. You'd stay on. And it wasn't as if Niki had forgotten you existed. No, he started appearing even more when you were working on the cars. Criticizing you, undoing your hours of work and just being plain rude. It leads to many arguments with him, usually with you telling him to fuck off and yet he never got you fired and it confused you to no end.

- Because you enjoyed working on the cars so much, and how you wanted to prove to Niki that you were a good engineer, you would stay after hours most nights working on the car. The team didn't care, they usually left you alone, thinking you were stupid for wanting to spend more time there than you had already. On one night there was a party being hosted for Niki winning another race. You were invited but you didn't go, you hated the parties, usually because of the way the men treated you

- So you were working on the car when the lights were turned on in the garage and Niki's booming voice rang out, 'Who's there?' you appeared from under the car looking at him confused,' Aren't you supposed to be at the party?' 'I could say the same thing to you' is all he would reply. You would tell him you were just finishing up on some work and would be leaving in a minute. You expected him to leave you alone but instead, he waited till you were done. 'How are you getting home?' he asks as he starts to walk next to you. 'The bus?' you say, finding this very situation extremely weird as for once he wasn't insulting you. 'The bus is crap, it takes ages to get you anywhere and it's getting dark. I'll take you home' you were shocked, to say the least.

- You tried to argue against it but somehow you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of his car and you quietly drive down the road, the awkwardness of the situation affecting both of you. 'You hate parties, even if they are your own?' you say finally breaking the silence, 'I enjoy parties, but I find the people insufferable' he simply replies back. 'Yes you seem to find everyone on the team insufferable, I'd assume me the most'

- Keeping his eyes on the road, his grip on the wheel tightens slightly. 'I don't find you insufferable' 'By the way all the work I do never seems to be good enough for you that was enough for me to believe that', he rolls his eyes as you speak. 'Your work is okay, but it can be better if you actually try'. 'I do try!' you exclaim but he just shakes his head, 'Not enough'

- Finally, you arrive at home, you turn to look at him, preparing to bite back the bitter feeling in your mouth and thank him when he says 'You can get out now'. You throw up your middle finger at him as you leave the car making him chuckle

- This incident somehow started a routine for you two. Niki realised it wasn't just that day but most days you choose to stay after hours, and suddenly he started staying after hours as well. At first, he would do the usual and just tell you everything you were doing wrong, then offer you a lift home. But soon he started helping you out, making adjustments together, and though you hated to admit it he was right with his suggestions, they made the car better. But in the same way, he was helping you improve your knowledge, and he started occasionally giving you compliments on your work, though very rare.

- He'd always offer you a lift home and honestly how could you refuse to ride with an F1 driver, even if he drove really slow on actual roads. Your conversations slowly switched from insulting each other to actually talking about common interests and joking around as if you were good friends

- Then you started to feel more, like when he was helping you on the car, and he would move past you, his hand resting on your waist briefly. Or when you would both lean over to grab something and his hand would come in contact with yours, and you would both stare at each other for a moment before he tells you to remove your hand.

- You started to actually celebrate when he won races, and not just because it was your team winning. He'd come out of the car and his eyes would first be on yours, smiling excitedly at another race won and seeing you cheer him on. Then when he was giving his winning speech and his eyes flicker to you, 'And I couldn't have won this race without the work from my team, specifically our main and first female engineer y/n'

- You could never explain the pure joy and happiness you felt at that moment. But it was very similar to the same feeling you got when you two were working on the car the next day and he asks you to look at him. For once in his life, his cocky attitude had gone away and he looked nervous but pulling himself together, he grasped the back of your neck with his hand and pulled you forward, hips lips coming to rest on yours.

[tetralea]

Lestappen

- “Hey! You didn’t have to save me ya’know. Just because I’m an Omega doesn’t mean I’m weak! I could handle myself.”

Omega Max, Alpha Charles

Oh, that is an interesting setting.

Charles was driving home in the pouring rain, being glad he decided to take the car instead of a bike when he went for his usual run outside of the city.

He was driving on the hillside, almost in the city when he saw a figure walking on the pathway next to the road. The poor thing, must have been soaked. He slowed down contemplating his options. What if it’s an omega, what if they are cold or lost? Before he could finish his train of thought he hits the breaks, recognising the man walking.

‘Max!‘ He calls out pulling down the window. The other one look at him surprised but keeps walking. ‘Get in the car.’ He says after maybe hearing a small greeting from the blonde.

‘No, I’m walking.’

‘It is pouring, come on, I can take you home.’ He says staying next to Max with the car, going as slow as he can.

‘I am going home.’ Max insist, trying to lower his arms, and standing straight, it it doesn’t last long, the cold sweeping into his skin and bones trough his soaked clothes.

‘Please, come with me. You are going to catch a cold, and you are clearly in trouble. Waking back would take like an hour from here and the rain will only get worse.’ Charle reasons, a shiver running trough him after some strong wind hits, it is uncomfortable even from the car. He feels in his bone a storm is coming and no one should be out here in a storm, let alone an omega he could help getting home. He feels protective of Max, of course he does, he is an alpha. Yet it doesn’t give the right to decide instead of him, he can only offer protection.

‘I’m fine, I’ll get back before the storm.’

Charles stoops the car and gets out, jogging after the omega now in the heavy rain. ‘I can’t leave you out here, Max.’ He says firmly. Hoping that he could convince the other one. ‘I really want to get you somewhere safe.’ He pushes stepping closer but not touching he other one.

‘Why, because you are an alpha?’ Max snarls, eyes widening as he looks at Charles in disbelief.

‘What? No.’ He shakes his head stepping even closer. ‘Because it is raining and it will get worse, no alpha or beta should be our either.’ He knows he could control it more, but he lets his scent get to Max, he is calm and only wants so help, and he hopes Max will know by his scent. He doesn’t want to boss him around.

Max’s movements halt for a second when the calming, comforting scent hits him and he almost gives in, almost turns around to sit in the black Ferrari, surrounded by Charles composing scent, turning the heating on. Max is upset and anxious, not wanting to give in. ‘I’ll go home alone, please leave me be.’

Charles sighs as he knows he can’t leave him, but he rushes back to the car, even if he has to accompany him and go 2km/h he will. He sits in the car, starting it, only to reveal a dark coated figure now next to Max. Oh, shit.

They both freeze, Max hisses and Charles growls in the car, baring his teeth, even if he knows they can’t hear him. He covers the few meters and jumps out of the car again.

‘The little omega is lost?’ The unknown alpha asks, also growling, some disgusting, seductive scent is reeking off him. Max gags a bit. ‘Come on if you don’t want to go with him, I can also take you.’ He smiles, but it is more scary than sweet.

‘As I said, I am going home. No one needs to take me.’ Max stands his ground, squaring his shoulders against his instincts. Charles stands a few meters away, waiting for the alpha’s next move.

He clearly doesn’t like Max’s disobedience and tries again. ‘An omega needs and alpha.’

‘No he doesn’t.’ Max spats, now angry, his normally sweet mango and chocolate scent changing, giving not only his hanger but also his nerves away.

‘Your scent tells otherwise.’ The unknown alpha snickers and reaches out to grab Max’s wrist, but he jumps back, now frightened.

‘Then maybe you should leave him alone.’ Charles’ voices emerges, drawing the other two’s attention to him. ‘He clearly doesn’t find you a good company.’ He says, stepping closer, going around the alpha, standing next to Max.

‘Like he did you.’ He snarls, tilting his head, in amusement.

Charles lightly reaches out, touching Max’s wrist with his fingers. ‘I’m sorry.’ He says as he is scenting the blonde, pressing their sides together, to spread it further.

A low growl comes from in front of them. ‘That won’t stop me.’ He states. ‘The rain will wash it away, and when you will be gone, I can mark him all I want.’ His scent now intensifies, making Charles nose twitch, and Max has to cover his mouth and nose, it is aggressive and intrusive.

Now Charles steps forward, straightening his back, baring his teeth. ‘You won’t touch him. I won’t let you lay a disgusting finger on him.’ He promises, and extends his arms bashing his hips, like he could shield Max with them. In the next second the alpha lunges forward to fight his way to Max, but his face meets with Charles’ fist first, pushing his backwards, Max squealing. He is clearly distressed Charles can feel it, and he hates it. He still stands ready for a second attack, but it looks like the man in the black coat doesn’t feel it worth fighting another alpha. He turns and rushes away cursing, some blood sweeping from his nose.

Charles turns, just to see Max trying to collect himself. ‘Are you hurt?’ His voice is weak and shaking, eyes trying to find any injury on the freckled hand after the hit.

‘No, just a bit sore.’ The brunette laughs lightly, extending his alarm, to show his unharmed hand to Max. ‘Come on, please let me take you.’ He asks one last time, his voice calm and reassuring.

The answer is silent, as the blonde walks to him taking his hand pulling it to his face, nuzzling it, continuously moving closer, until he is flush to Charles’ chest. He doesn’t say a thing, before pulling the long fingers to his neck, to his bonding mark, the one Charles gave him a year ago. He is pulled into a strong embrace before he knows it, already feeling Charles scenting him involuntarily. And it is good, it calms him, it makes the rain feel a bit less cold and disturbing. He feels a cold nose agains his neck, and rubbing against the mark, the soft rumble answered with his purr. They stay like this for a few seconds, he lets Charles hold him, comfort him and slowly all the anxious, sour scents are fading. ‘Please, let me protect you. I can’t even imagine what he had done to you if I’m not here. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings in the morning, but please don’t run away like this again. You know, I didn’t mean it like that, you know that I love you.’ Charles pleads his grip tightening around the soaked omega, his purr only getting louder, trying to comfort the both of them.

‘I know.’ It all he can say. Or because he doesn’t want to say more, but because he knows it is all true. He knows Charles didn’t mean to hurt him when he said he needed to learn to be more strategic, yet hearing it from his mate didn’t feel particularly nice. He got upset.

They sit in the car, Charles starting the engine, looking at Max before pushing the button of the seat heating. It is quiet for a while, Charles’ calming scent filling the small space, that and the warm around his body slowly calming Max’s nerves completely.

‘You didn’t have to save me, you know. Just because I’m and omega I can take care of myself.’ Max grumbles while staring out of the window. The storm has arrived.

‘I know you can, I know you don’t need saving.’ Charles was looking at the road, while reached out to hold Max’s cold hand. ‘Just please be careful next time. I couldn’t live with knowing something happened to you and I couldn’t help, not because you are an omega and I am an alpha best because I love you.’