#wish he had gotten on the podium but we move

[formulanni]

Carlos Sainz as The Sun Tarot:

The card portends good fortune, happiness, joy and harmony. It represents the universe coming together and agreeing with your path and aiding forward movement into something greater.

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls

[unsolvedjarin]

I was going through a Charles video that mentioned him blacking out in the car at some point. Since I’m a sucker for angst, I was wondering what it would be like for mentor!Seb if it were the reader in that situation instead. Perhaps the season before the one he retires? And maybe we could see more of the reader’s friendship with Charles? Only if you feel inspired by it, of course.

Either way, thank you for sharing your fics with us. They are my favorites and I’m really grateful for having found your blog.

gif by luchitohamilton

EVERY UNIVERSE.

pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (charles leclerc x teammate! reader)

summary: qatar is a difficult, hot, and taxing track. that along with you having food poisoning, well…that might not end too well for you. thankfully you can always rely on sebastian and charles to be there for you.

word count: 4k

note: can you guys tell i took inspo from mark webber throwing up in his car and the qatar race this year? it was so sad to watch everyone seem so tired especially lance and logan. anyways, the plot kinda got away from me at the end, i do apologize but the seb feels were too intense 😵‍💫

content warning: car crash, mentions of throwing up, inaccurate depictions of food poisoning

part of this series but can be read without!

“Ready?”

A familiar voice makes you turn around from your pre-race preparations. “Depends on what your definition of ready is.”

Charles smiles, “I know it’s our first race in Qatar but c’mon, it isn’t that bad.”

“Isn’t that bad? I might melt in the car! Doesn’t help that I almost missed this one because of food poisoning.”

“Ah yes, how could I forget that,” he teases. He couldn’t forget it, because you’d been complaining about it endlessly for the past three days. You had food poisoning because Mark Webber invited you to lunch on Thursday, and accidentally gave you something dodgy. You’ve yet to forgive the man. “Well at least you’re starting from P4. Lets you fight for P1, no?”

“Against Lewis and Charles? Please. In my dreams, maybe. Plus, you’re starting P3, asshole.” You retort, turning back around to put your balaclava on. The second it’s on your head, though, it gets pulled off, and you look behind you for the perpetrator. “Charles give it b– SEBASTIAN!”

The Aston Martin driver gives you a grin before hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit. You didn’t expect to see him before the race, but the surprise was definitely welcome.

“Oh but if it was me I would have gotten scolded,” Charles mutters, but his complaints were left unheard.

“Just came to wish you luck before the race starts. P4! You’re going to get a podium, I’m sure of it,” Sebastian beams, letting you go from the hug.

“That’s what Charles said too. He was more delusionally optimistic, though. Said I was gonna win.”

“Because I believe in you! Is that so bad?” Charles complains from the side, his comment ignored once again.

“Well maybe Charles is right— you could win. Meanwhile I’m starting in the midfield, again.” Sebastian complains, groaning a little bit.

“Oh cheer up Seb, you survived Ferrari for 6 years, you’ll live.”

He lights up a bit at your joke, moving to say something before an Aston Martin mechanic shows up outside the Ferrari garage. He wasn’t allowed inside, but it was obvious he was looking for Sebastian– who also wasn’t allowed inside, yet mysteriously got in. Nothing to do with him being friends with your mechanics of course, yeah, totally not.

“Ah shoot, well it looks like they’re looking for me,” Sebastian sighs. He starts to walk away before he pauses and moves back towards you, “Hey, stay safe, okay? New track, it’s dangerous. I know we’ve done practice and quali but you can never be too careful. Plus, it’s sweltering hot. Hydrate.”

You roll your eyes fondly, “Yes, dad.”

His face scrunches up a little, “Don’t ever call me that again, I’m not that old.”

“You could barely work my Instagram the other day! All I asked was for you to open Lewis’ stories!”

“Psh, whatever. I have to go, see you after the race, yeah?” He asks, giving your arm a quick squeeze. You nod, murmuring a goodbye to him. He wishes Charles good luck too, before saving his engineer from the Ferrari mechanics blocking him.

“So he can pull your balaclava off– which you hate, by the way, let me remind you– but if I even try adjusting your helmet straps so it’s safer you slap me off?” Charles speaks up, making you break eye contact from the Ferrari garage doors.

You roll your eyes at him with a smile, “You have got to forget that. It was one time. And it was a soft slap to the shoulder!”

“The point still stands,” he retorts, making you give up on the conversation.

“Whatever, Charlie. Just get ready for the race. Stay safe, okay?” you say, putting your balaclava on again. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, a sign of good luck between the two of you. It makes you smile a little before you hop into your car.

Okay. Qatar. New track, new conditions, but still the same old you. You could do this.

The lights go off one by one, and you grip the steering wheel with anticipation like you always did. Race starts still made you nervous no matter how long you’d been racing. One light goes off…then the next…then the third…the fourth one follows…and then…

“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

The first few laps were a breeze, maintaining your position in fourth despite Fernando being on your tail the whole time. You noticed the car was slightly hotter than usual, but decided to ignore it and chalk it up to new changes in the engine.

Around lap 25 you started to feel a bit dizzy and sick during the sharp corners, cursing yourself internally for having such bad timing with the food poisoning. “Charles is 0.200 seconds ahead, feel free to overtake,” your engineer buzzes through the radio.

“Copy,” you reply, not really paying attention, still feeling sick. You overtake Charles with ease around the outside, him not putting up much of a fight because it would have taken both of you out. Now you just had to maintain this position for…dear god, 32 laps.

“Lewis 5 seconds ahead, focus on tire degradation instead.” Your engineer’s warning goes unheard, though, as you noticed the cockpit was getting way too fucking hot.

“The car’s burning up,” you say into your radio, getting only a simple “Copy, we are checking,” back.

“Okay, Y/N there are no problems with your engines, I repeat; no problem.”

What? That’s impossible. You felt like you were melting in there. “Are you sure? Can you ask Charles if his car feels like the sun too?”

“Negative, focus on the race.”

Oh you were going to kill them one day– if they don’t kill you first. A few more laps passed in those horrible conditions before turn 5 rolled around and as you swerved your car, you started to see black spots around your vision.

That can’t be good, you think, having to close your eyes for a second before shaking your head and snapping yourself back into the race. Thankfully Charles had pitted earlier and had a 3 second gap to you. “I don’t feel too well.”

“Copy. Is it the car?”

“Well it’s definitely part of the problem.”

The next few turns were torture, your head bobbing around as you faded in and out of consciousness through the fast corners. Charles was catching up now, and you knew if you didn’t do something soon, he would pass you.

You wanted this podium. You needed it. If you got P3 you would grab P4 on driver standings.

There was a slow corner coming up that was a good overtaking spot, and so you had to defend.

As the turn came around– faster than you expected– the extreme heat of the car, your headache, sweat, food poisoning, and dizziness came together and you suddenly felt light, as if you were flying, before a jolt knocked you out of your consciousness completely.

You were out for less than a minute, but that minute counted for everything. You completely turned into Charles, him having to swerve onto the gravel just so you wouldn’t crash into each other. Your car, however, still had more speed in it, and you were headed towards the wall on the very far side of the gravel.

Thankfully, the rough rocks had shook you awake enough that you were able to swerve away from the wall extremely last minute and only take the tail and back wheel of your car out.

The next few seconds were a blur.

You still felt faint, but could hear a muffled voice headed towards you. You knew the back of your car was completely ruined and you were out of the race, and you put your helmet in your hands in disappointment. You were having such a good run before this happened. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The muffled voice running towards you was closer now, and you registered it to be Charles. He was saying something but you could barely hear him with how your ears were ringing and how the seat of the car was still hot.

The man quickly realized you weren’t hearing him, and opted to come closer and lift your visor up. “Smoke. Car. Get out!”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You pushed yourself up but barely, Charles having to lift you up by your shoulders. Once out of the car you completely collapsed on the floor, only having your teammate catch you.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you say drowsily, still fighting the urge to pass out.

“Safety car is coming, stay with me now,” he replies, tapping your helmet so you stay awake. You were grateful your friend was there with you.

On track, however, Sebastian had just been informed of what went down. “What the fuck? What happened?”

“L/N completely turned into Leclerc. Driver error, push on for P9.”

Sebastian hated how his engineer sounded like a robot reporting a technical statistic. He saw the aftermath of the accident for a split second, and it didn’t look like your car was in good shape. He worries about what shape you were in. “Are they okay?”

“Safety car is coming out for L/N and to crane the car, but other than that they seem fine.”

“Injuries?”

“Please focus on the race, Sebastian.”

“INJURIES!” he shouts into his radio, annoyed. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the race until he knew you were alright.

“Uh…L/N seems to be out of it and on the floor, but they’re okay. They’ll be fine, Seb.” His engineer adds the last statement to reassure the man. He knew you meant a lot to him. Seb nods to himself in the car, carrying on with the race. The faster this finished the faster he could get to you.

The safety car came out and they all slowed down, Sebastian finally being able to take a second long look at the accident. Your car was still there, the smoke coming out of it being extinguished by a personnel. Sebastian thinks he ought to have a word with the Ferrari mechanics after the race. He then notices you, on your knees in the gravel, only being kept up by a driver he can only assume to be Charles. Sebastian thinks that should be him there supporting you, but at the same time he’s glad he wasn’t the one who you nearly crashed into. He couldn’t have it on his consciousness that he could have hit you.

“‘m sorry for ruining your race,” you mumble, still being held up by Charles. The man shakes his head, “It was ruined before that, don’t worry. My engine was acting up.”

You knew he was lying to make you feel better, his engine was completely fine. He was headed for the podium earlier, his first in a while. And you completely botched his chance to get it. The thought makes you sob a little, along with the fact that you ruined your own race.

Crying wasn’t the greatest thing to do, though, as it only made you more lightheaded. Charles notices this and takes your helmet off for you, despite your protests pre-race. You were grateful that he did, though, as the second he took your helmet and balaclava off you felt like you had a breath of fresh air for the first time.

“Better?”

You nod, unable to speak. You still felt dizzy and sick. Charles felt annoyed that the safety personnel were taking so long to get to you, waving them over to walk quicker. Squinting your eyes a little, you find them with some health personnels, and you sink a little lower into the gravel.

“God not again,” you groan, remembering the events that unfolded back in Spa. You did not need to go to the medical tent. As you attempt to get up, however, you fall back down as your vision blurred. Looks like medical tent it is again.

The rest of the race went particularly well. Lewis won the race and Fernando got his first podium since 2014– which you reminded yourself to congratulate him for once you were out of the medical tent– and Seb ended up P9, a position higher than where he started. That would usually be a mediocre result but with his shitty car, you were pretty impressed.

“Water?” A familiar voice makes you look away from the TV screen in the room. Charles sat beside your bed, holding a plastic bottle of water. You nod and take it from him, chugging the cool liquid down.

“Sorry again for ruining your race,” you say as you finish drinking. Charles shakes his head, “Stop apologizing. You passed out, that was no fault of yours.”

“You passed out!?” A loud concerned voice makes both of you snap your head towards the door of the room. Sebastian stood there, still in his race suit like the both of you, a shocked look on his face.

“Is that what happened? You passed out mid race?” He asks again, but this time softer. He walks towards your medical bed– which you insisted you didn’t need– before putting his hand on your forehead to check if you had a fever. The action makes you giggle, but Sebastian had a serious look that shut you up quickly.

He shakes his head with a sigh, “You have a bit of a fever.”

“Any other fun observations?”

Sebastian didn’t seem to be in the mood for your wit, though. “You could have been injured. Just a few meters and you could have fully hit the wall. If you were just a few seconds late waking up you would have–”

He shuts his eyes and stops himself. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened anymore. His voice got wobbly during the end of his statement, making you realize that he was stopping himself from crying. You absentmindedly sit up and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I’m here, Seb. And I’m fine. Look at me.”

The older driver does, slowly opening his eyes. You squeeze his hand a second time, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m here. And look, I’m completely fine. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly old man.”

Seb lets out a chuckle at that, moving to hug you tightly.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he mumbles into your hair. “Why did you even pass out?”

“I was already a little dizzy before getting in the car because of the heat but I tried ignoring it. The car was overheating too and it made me dehydrated, I think. My drink pouch wasn’t a lot of help either when the water was steaming hot. Plus…” you trail off, not really wanting to talk ill of Webber.

“Mark gave her food poisoning when he took her to lunch,” Charles butted in, making you give him a look. You forgot he was in the room.

“Mark? As in Webber?” Sebastian asks, Charles nodding in response. “The bastard.”

“Oh c’mon Seb, he just wanted to treat me to lunch. It’s not like he poisoned my food on purpose.”

Seb sighs deeply before agreeing, “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just– I don’t know.”

“I get it. I mean, this is my second time at the medical tent in three months. Makes you think how accident prone I am,” you joke. Sebastian laughs, and you’re glad you got the worried look in his face away.

“The one in Spa was completely your fault, but we may have to pin this one on Mark,” Seb teases. You shoot him a grin, “Yeah, we can say that.”

Before you could talk more, though, a PR person from both Ferrari and Aston Martin came in to fetch Charles and Sebastian.

“What about me?” you ask, getting up from your bed. It wasn’t like you were injured or anything, you were just a little sick and had a bit of a stomach ache. You’d already thrown up earlier, so you felt pretty normal now.

“Sorry, we have orders to keep you here.”

You scoff, “Please. What can they do if I walk out?”

Before the Ferrari PR agent could reply, though, you were already out the room. She stands there helpless, making Sebastian and Charles chuckle to each other before following you. You were always stubborn when you wanted to be.

The second you’re out of the medical tent, camera flashes overwhelm your eyes. You walk past them as you always do, but the contrast of the light to the night sky makes you a bit lightheaded again, having to hold Sebastian’s arm for support. He moves your hand from his arm to his own hand, interlocking it with yours and pull you through the crowd. There were no words needed to be said, he always knew what you needed. You’re starting to think he can read minds.

Once past the annoying lot of cameras, you make it to the media pen where at least they pestered you in a more civil way. The interviewers were all over you and Charles, looking for some inside scoop on ‘Ferrari drama.’ Turns out, the media thought you tried to purposely take Charles out a la brocedes style. Because of this you had to clarify to every person you talked to that, “No, I did not try to take Charles out on purpose. I passed out. We’re good. Yes, we’re still friends.”

Once that was all over, you headed over to the Channel 4 area to give a certain someone a piece of your mind. “Mark Webber.”

The man turns around to the mention of his full name, smiling when he notices who it is. “Y/N! Glad you’ve come and joined us! We’re on in about five minutes, we can do a segment about the crash but if you wanna talk about something else on screen that’s fine too, we can–”

“You gave me food poisoning!” you butt in. “I cannot believe you.” His coworkers give him a look, as if they were holding in a laugh at him being scolded.

Mark stands there with his mouth agape, unsure what to say. “Wasn’t that three days ago? Are you sure it’s me?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, I’m sure it’s you. It started three days ago, and guess who I was with when I ate something unusual three days ago? Oh right, it’s you!”

He pauses for a moment before bursting into laughter, trying to cover his mouth to no avail. “Sorry, it’s not funny that you almost crashed, I’m glad you’re safe, but– ha!– I cannot believe it was because of the dodgy Indian food!”

You gave him a shove, trying to act mad, but the smile on your face betrayed you. His laughter was contagious. “You are such an asshole.”

“Awh cheer up,” he gives you a side hug, ruffling your hair a little. “Sorry for giving you food poisoning, mate. I’ll make it up to you, whaddya think about lunch on me tomorrow?”

You escape his side hug when you hear him say that, “Absolutely not! I’m never trusting you again with food recommendations.”

The statement makes him laugh again, and you chuckle along with him. Hard to be mad at someone who didn’t do it on purpose. Sebastian walked over to the two of you, having watched the interaction from afar.

“Look who’s coming over,” Mark mumbled, making you notice Seb trying to pretend to just ‘bump’ into the two of you. “Still competitive ‘till now, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to out-mentor you,” Mark says out loud, grabbing the attention of the German.

Seb tilts his head with a faux oblivious look, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grabs you by the arm and ‘discreetly’ pulls you over to his side. ‘No idea’ my ass.

The Australian scoffs with a grin, “Whatever you say mate. Listen, I gotta get back because our feed is going live in a few minutes, but you two take care, alright? Nice to see you again Seb.”

“You too, Mark.” Sebastian replies, this time genuinely. While the media knew the two drivers were now on good terms, they didn’t know just how close they had gotten. The two went bowling at least once every two months just to catch up with each other, you being there for half their competitions– yes, they still competed. Apparently that sense of wanting to beat your former teammate does not go away. So far this year, Mark’s been winning.

Before Mark completely walked away, he looked back at you for a second, “Oh, and, I am happy you got out injury free from that nasty crash. Genuinely glad you’re okay. Sorry that my dodgy food contributed to your sickness.”

You wave him off, “It’s fine, Mark. It’s not like you could’ve known I would get food poisoning. Although, next time maybe check online reviews.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, waving you a goodbye as he ran to his coworkers who were already getting impatient.

You shake your head with a grin, “Well at least that’s over with.”

Sebastian slings his arm around your shoulder, “True. So want to get dinner?”

“Absolutely not. I think I’m done with food for a good while.”

“Well you have to eat something,” he insists, as you both walk through the paddock. “How about we get room service?”

“Eh, it’s late, I don’t really want a repeat of Monaco 2019.”

Monaco 2019 was when you and Seb got room service at 10pm because you didn’t check the time. Safe to say the staff weren’t very happy with that. You both felt so bad while eating that food.

“We can just get McDonalds then,” you suggest.

“McDonalds?” Charles asks, popping out from god knows where.

“Jesus, where the hell were you hiding? The atoms?” You ask.

“I was here the whole time.”

“You were not,” Sebastian comments. Charles simply shrugs, tagging along with the two of you, not caring that he was obviously third wheeling a moment. “So McDonalds?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, McDonalds. But you’re paying because you’re tagging along.”

“No fair! Sebastian is richer than me!”

You both give Charles a look at the same time. Charles thinks it’s eerie how alike the two of you were.

“Charles,” Sebastian starts, patting the Monegasque’s back with one arm with his other still slung around your shoulders. Your accident made him very clingy, but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Let me phrase this as nicely as I can; you are from Monaco. You are rich.”

Charles lets out a sigh, “Fine. I’ll buy the food.”

You clap, “Fuck yeah! Food on the rich man!”

“We have the same salary in our contracts?”

“Shh, that’s not important,” you say, shushing Charles. “Food on the rich man! Although, we may have to go to the hotel right after and just get take out. I can feel Mark’s Indian food from three days ago still fighting with me.”

Charles is the one to roll his eyes this time, “I’ll get the car so we can get there faster, your highness.”

“Thank you, Lord Perceval.”

“Don’t call me that!” he shouts, already walking away to the parking lot.

That left you and Sebastian alone again, just enjoying the company of one another, walking slowly down the paddocks. There were few people now, most having gone back to their hotels to call it a night.

“You know, I’m glad I found you.”

The words make you look up at the older driver, who you find smiling at you. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean obviously we would find each other, there’s only so many drivers in Formula One. But I mean I’m glad I found you in this life.”

“Do you think we don’t find each other in other lives?”

Sebastian pauses and thinks for a second. He’s thought about the other career paths he could have taken throughout his life– other lives he could have lived. He knows there’s no logical way, but he thinks he still would have found you in those lives. The thought makes him smile to himself.

“No, I think we do.”

“Well then good. Because me too,” you reply, giving him a smile of your own. “Why did you suddenly think about it though?”

Sebastian shrugs, “I don’t know. I just felt suddenly sentimental. Feels like a chapter of my life closed but I’m not sure what or why.”

Little did he know that he would start contemplating retirement a few weeks after that.

“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Whether we find each other in other lifetimes, I mean.”

Seb raises his eyebrow, him now being the one confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re both here now. Enjoying each other’s company. Why bother thinking about versions of ourselves in other universes when we’ve got each other in this one?”

Sebastian gives you the most genuine, softest smile at that. “I love you, I don’t tell you that enough.”

You scrunch your face, “Ew. Sounds like a love confession. Sorry but you’re too old for me.”

“You know what I mean. I love you but not in that way. That’s just gross,” Sebastian says, hitting your shoulder.

“Relax old man, I’m just teasing,” you giggle, trying to avoid his hit. “Love you too. Ew. Sorry, not great with verbal affection. Pretty sure that just made me throw up a bit, and that’s not even with the help of the food poisoning.”

Sebastian just shakes his head, “Okay c’mon now, Charles will be annoyed with how slow we’re walking.”

Later that night, the three of you watched a cheesy romcom while sharing a shit load of fries and chicken nuggets. As you carried on through the night you thought to yourself that despite the hardships of F1, the crashing, the disappointments, the injuries– it brought you a second family you never thought you’d have. And you wouldn’t trade it for any other universe.

Although, maybe a universe where you didn’t get food poisoning.

[bon2bonn]

Don't Hold Your Breath

22!f1!grid X female!driver!reader

Words count : 9##?, 1k, Maybe 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Warnings: not proof read , grammar.

Back to 🏁The Grid 🏎️

Fireworks went off as she crossed the finish line in first place, about 24 seconds ahead of the second place that was taken by max and over 35 seconds ahead of Lewis in third.

The radio cracked as the message went through congratulating her on the win " that was P1 , P1 Y/N , well done " she hummed in reply while flexing her wrists as she drove her cooling lap before pitting in the assigned P1 spot and moved calmly to climb out her car , stretching her back before heading straight to get weight then to the stand where she discarded off her helmet and gloves then took a towel to dry her face and hands after she washed them with cool water , moving to sit on the said stand in waiting for the other two drivers who got out of their respective cars and went to their awaiting teams behind the barricades .

She kicked her legs back and forth in boredom , leaning her weigh back on her hands as she watched her team cheering for her teammate as he reached them then took another drink of water , waiting for the day to be over with .

Max stood before her with a bewildered face and nudged her to make space to sit beside her " you ...... What had gotten into you?! " She only shrugged and offered him a bottle which he took and drank it all while he was still looking at her " who pissed you off ? " she gave him a pointed look then shrugged again " you could take some guesses , might all be correct " he nod cautiously before he was called to get interviewed,. before the podium, switching with Lewis who congratulate her with the same bewildered look " you scare the shit out of me out there! " She nod at him with a shrug then removed the towel from her head to undo the braids of her hair and covered it again , huffing when it was her turn to go .

She took the mic and waited for the questions, and they didn't disappoint " what a spectacular race Y/N ! P15 to P1! How does it feel? " She waited for the crowd to calm after a long minute then replied calmly " not much honestly " he cleared his throat and asked again " and what a comeback we witnessed today! A redemption as some might say . How's the car with the new upgrades and the ...." She cuts him off with a deadpanned stare " what redemption ? . They kept on questioning and I gave them an answer . By a holly grace it might actually shut them up this time , but a girl could only hope " she rolled her eyes before fixing them on still standing Merc team behind the host and pointed out " And by the way , I didn't get any upgrades this round " he asked with raised eyebrows " pardon ? " She tilted her head and repeated " there weren't any upgrades on my car throughout the last two races, there was meant to be on this round but for some reason there weren't approved yet " he stuttered then concluded with " well it seems like you didn't need them today after all ......ah . Anything else to add ? " She shrugged with a relaxed smirk " those RB and Aston Martin contracts looks pretty good right now " making heads turn her way as the host struggled to hold his voice steady but he concluded " Well , congratulations on the win and we wish you all the best " she nod then handed the mic back .

The other two were already seated in the cool down room , waiting for her arrival as they were looking at the highlights, sharing a look of deadpan between them with the double overtake she made up to P5 where she almost slammed the wall while being pressured by checo , then at the jump her car took when Lando pumped her left back tire on the second turn , it was something to watch to the end and when she sat down on the vacant chair they turned to stare at her as she took another bottle of water along with a towel to dry her hair then used it to cover her face as she leaned back and got comfortable as if nothing happened .

She stood on the podium with her hands clapped behind her back as her national anthem played , followed by the German anthem, then shook a couple of hands as they handed out the trophies , she congratulate the other two , turned to look up at balcony above them and held her trophy with a wide grin for the flashing cameras , and picked up her given champagne bottle and head out , nodding at other teams who congratulate her and beelined to the Mercedes garage with a purpose . She paused by the Red Bull garage for a moment and held her champagne bottle when Horner took notice of her standing there , in turn he tipped his hat in acknowledgement, both turned and went on with their day .

Her head was held high when she slammed the trophy on top of the table, right infront of Toto who locked his jaw when she flashed her award winning smile sweetly at him as she nod to the trophy " you can keep it , but don't hold your breath , it won't be the last " then headed to her side where her engineer sat back and reviewed some data , and held the bottle with a beaming smile watching him look between her and the bottle before he took it with a tired sigh then scolded " you! , you give me gray hair " she snorted and pointed out " what hair are you talking about!? You're as bold as an egg ! " He rolled his eyes and accused " I lost it trying to not lose my marbles on a daily basis with you as my driver! " She awed and nudged this shoulder with hers " you know you love me " it was his turn to scoff " yeah yeah , and the pay is another bounce " she gasped dramatically " you're only in it for the money?! " He deadpanned at her after popping the bottle and took a long sip " no , I'm in it for your sparkling personality " both glared at eachother before bursting out laughing .

[maxillness]

Light || Mentor!MW2 x F2 Driver!Reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap, drivers room sex, fingering, oral (F), hair pulling, (kinda) mean Mark

Wordcount: 1.5k

This kinda (doesn’t) make sense, but god do it love this 😭🫶

Tag list: @e-nonsense @babyprofessorsharkpalace

There were ups and down of having the Mark Webber as a mentor

The ups? He was good, and he mentored perfectly, she could never have gotten this far in her career without him

The downs? He was attractive

Everything about him is attractive. His hands, his arms, his voice, his face, his body. Everything

And she could barely stand it anymore. If she didn’t do anything about it soon, she would surely combust

She listened when he talked, but she didn’t really listen. Her subconscious picked up on his words, but she never remembered their conversations

She was to focus on watching him. And, yeah, sure, she was good, and she knew it was because of him, but she never remembered why she got so good

He was the only thing launched on her brain

Mark, Mark, Mark

She could barely pushed the thoughts aside on the track, but she managed, and she always got a podium, not always p1, but podium

After a very beautiful p1 finish, a reporter wanted to talk to her about having Mark as a mentor

“Now, we’ve talked about the pros of having Mark as a mentor, is there any cons?” He asked before taking the mic closer to her

She nervously giggled before answering “Yeah. There is. Just one thought” She swallowed the spit pooling in her mouth before speaking again “He’s extremely attractive. Like, extremely” She searched for other words

“It makes it difficult to focus when he’s around. That’s how attractive he is” They both giggled in sync before the reporter spoke up

“That, we can agree on. Thank you, Y/N. Have a nice day” He smiled before she walked away

She ended up in her drivers room. She was exhausted as she laid on the small couch, almost drifting off into slumber

A knock on the door startled her awake. She sat up, trying to look like she didn’t just almost fall asleep

“Come in” Her voice almost cracked as she spoke up

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” It was Mark who stood in the door way, his hand holding on to the door knob

“Sure. Of course” She scooted to her right to make space for him on the left as he closed the door behind him

“Look…” He sat down on the couch beside her, tilting his body slightly towards her “I’ll give you everything I have. I’ll teach you everything I know” He sighed before speaking again “But I feel like there’s things you’re not telling me”

Shit. She had forgotten all about the interview earlier

“And I know I’m not supposed to know everything, but-“

“I promise I’ll do better. But, there are just things I can’t tell you” She lowered her head, avoiding his eyes

“I know, I know. I will always hold you close, but I will learn to let you go if we can’t communicate

“I promise… I’ll do better, Mark” She never said his name, so it quite startled him when she did

“I will soften every edge. I’ll hold the world to it’s best” She hated when he spoke that way

“With every heartbeat I have left, I will do better, but can we please, take this conversation another time? I’m exhausted” She really was, but she was scared what the out come was gonna be

“Of course” He sighed, but didn’t move out of his spot “I just want to know one thing” She didn’t answer, but her eyes told him to speak “Was it true what you said earlier?”

“Yes” She answered without thinking. She didn’t meet his eyes, but he tried to meet hers

“Thank you for being honest” She felt a ‘but’ coming when his large hand went to her upper thigh “But…” There it was “I wish you would have told me face to face”

She looked up at him. She sighed before speaking “I can’t” Her voice broke slightly as she spoke

“Yes you can” He scooted closer, his hand trailing upwards in the progress

She felt it in her stomach before she felt it on her cheeks. He could do things to her just by talking, so what could he do if it progressed further?

“Mark-“ Her sentence was cut short by a yelp when he pulled her into in lap, both his hands now on the back of her thighs as hers was on his shoulders

“Tell me” His voice was soft, even with his accent. His eyes was as equally soft

Was this all an act to get her to talk? Would he push her away after she told him? She couldn’t possibly tell him “I can’t-“

She was cut off yet again, but this time with his soft lips against her own. He pulled away when she didn’t kiss him back

“Tell me” His voice was now stern. She only whimpered low, shaking her head slightly

He kissed her again, now rougher. She kissed back this time, her hands now at the back of his head

“Tell me” His words were muffled against her lips. She only answered with a hum that sounded negative

His hands went over her ass and up to her waist in a quick motion. He quickly flipped them over, so now she was sitting in the couch and he was down on his knees in front of her

She had whined at the loss of contact from his lips. His hands went to their waistband of her sweats

“Tell me” His pupils were blown wide, almost covering that beauty of a green colour. She whined at his words, but she didn’t answer, not even shaking her head no

“Fine, guess I’ll have to get it out of you another way” He hooked his fingers into the waist band

She bucked her hips, allowing him to pull down both the sweats and her panties in one pull

“Mark- the door-“ She quickly looked over at the door and then back down at him when he spread her legs wider and pulled her closer to the edge

“It’s locked. Don’t worry, darling” He mouthed opened kisses at her skin on her inner thighs

“You planned this?” She scoffed, trying to hide the whimper trying to escape her “You sick son of-“ She moaned when his tongue went trough her folds

One of her hands went to his hair with a tight grip, making him groan. Her breath shuttered as his tongue went over her clit

Her back arched off of the couch as her other hand grabbed the edge of the couch, her knuckles turning white

His tongue flicked her clit over and over again, making her moans lewd and pornographic

Two of his fingers teased her entrance, making her whimper. He entered just with his fingertips, making her grind down on him, wanting him further into her

His hand that wasn’t inside her, pushed down onto her lower abdomen, pushing her into the couch, stopping her grinding

“Please, I need it. Please” She almost cried begging for his fingers

“Tell me” She tried pushing his face back into her, but with no luck “It’s not that hard. You’ve said it once, you can say it again” God, was his accent hot

He slid his fingers further into her, drawing out a mixture between a moan and a whine. He curled his fingers, barely grazing the spongy part inside her

“Come on, darling. I can tease you as long as I can. Tell me, and I’ll give you what you want” She couldn’t see him from the way her eyes were shut closed, but she could hear the smirk in his voice

His thrusted his fingers in and out of her with a slow pace, wanting to hear her beg for it, only for her to be denied

“Mark- please. Faster, please. I’m begging you” Tears were starting to fill in the corners of her eyes

He chuckled slightly, biting light marks into her thighs “Not until you tell me” He liked over the marks, soothing the stinging sensation “Be a good girl and tell me”

She whimpered, feeling him slow down his pace, if that was even possible. She opened her eyes, looking down at him, debating if it was worth it

���Fuck” She whimpered low “You’re so fucking attractive it hurts” She threw her head back against the couch, closing her eyes as he sped up his fingers

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He grinned, curling his fingers, making her rapidly clench around him

“Fuck, I’m gonna come” She managed to get words out between her moans

“Come for me, darling” Her thighs shook, and after a few thrusts of his fingers, she came around him

He slowed the pace of his fingers down, kissing her thighs softly, pulling her down from her high

He pulled his fingers out of her before standing up to tower over her. Her eyes trailed down his body, eyes landing on his very obvious boner

“Let me take care of you” Her hands went to his belt buckle, but he took her wrists before she could touch him

“Not now” He bend down, kissing her softly “Come to my room tonight, and I’ll let you do whatever. Okay?” She nodded “Good girl”

He stayed until she had gotten her sweats back on. He kissed her softly again before leaving the room

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Friendly lips pt. 2 | L.N.

Lando Norris x friend!reader

Summary: Two close friends try navigating the complex emotions that have arisen after their unexpected kiss.

Warnings: lil sexual themes, fluff.

Word count: ~1.6K

<

Lando couldn't escape the memory of your lips, the taste of your strawberry lip balm had lingered on his mouth since the night before. He had known the familiar scent for a long time, but now, he had a different connection to it, one that left him feeling both exhilarated and bewildered.

As you yawned and cuddled up to him, his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, deep in thought. When you greeted him with a "good morning," he realized he had been lost in his own world ever since he awoke.

"Morning," he replied, wrapping his hand around your shoulders, pulling you closer. But, in the quiet of the morning, Lando couldn't help but continue the wrestle with his emotions.

For the first time in his life, he had to resist an overwhelming urge to lock lips with his best friend, to taste the strawberries on your lips once more. It felt like a whirlwind of emotions and confusion, and he couldn't quite make sense of it.

"Ready for the last race of the weekend?" you inquired, breaking the building tension with a smile.

"Absolutely," he replied, letting go of his inner turmoil. "I'm already on fire to get on that track."

The tension dissipated, and you smiled contentedly, hugging your friend closer. "Can't wait to see it."

Lando couldn't help but tease you, "Well, if you hadn't been late yesterday, you would have seen it, but clearly, you don't love me enough."

You retaliated by biting his shoulder, causing him to yelp. "OUCH!"

You playfully scolded him, "Stop being a drama queen, or I'll bite you again."

Lando countered, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "But you love it when I'm dramatic…"

Deep in thought, you responded, "You're right, I do. Sorry, Lan," and sealed your apology with a kiss on the small red mark your teeth had left on his shoulder before heading to the shower.

Lando lay in bed, not moving, not breathing, his gaze locked onto his shoulder, where your lips had been mere seconds ago. The world felt like it had gone mad, and he couldn't help but wonder if he had too. The complicated dance between friendship and the unexpected pull of desire was a puzzle he wasn't sure how to solve, but one thing was certain: it had changed everything.

Lando couldn't comprehend why you appeared so nonchalant about the kiss, as if it held no significance to you. It left him frustrated and angry, wondering why you seemed to have it so easy, unaffected by the emotions that were tormenting him. He partly wished he could just go with the flow and pretend it didn't mean anything, but he knew he'd be lying to himself. He didn't want to forget the memory of how you felt and tasted against him, and that left him feeling increasingly lost.

Sitting in the garage, his hands almost pulling at his hair in frustration, Lando couldn't help but think about the kiss.

His gaze was fixed on you and some other drivers chatting, and the mere sight of you only deepened his inner turmoil.

Oscar, a keen observer, approached Lando, concern etched on his face. "You're all right, man? You seem stressed."

"I am stressed," Lando admitted, feeling a weight on his shoulders.

"Why? You did great yesterday, and today's race isn't even that important. I'm still sure you'll get on the podium."

Lando took a deep breath before responding. "It's not really about the race. I just can't get something out of my head…" He trailed off, his gaze still locked on you.

Oscar didn't miss a beat and saw right through Lando's internal struggle. "So, you've finally caught up to yourself and don't know how to get Y/N to be your girlfriend?"

Lando wasn't going to answer, but Oscar's persistence got to him. "I kissed her… well, more like we both kissed."

"When did that happen?!" Oscar's eyes widened with surprise.

"Yesterday…"

"Wow, mate… I mean, that's good. You've gotten out of the friend zone and into the boyf-"

Lando cut him off. "Not like that."

"What do you mean?"

"We were just playing around, and I stupidly, as a joke, said that we should kiss. She agreed, and we kissed, and… well, nothing, absolutely nothing. At first, I thought maybe she just felt awkward about the whole thing, but now I honestly think she's pretending like it didn't happen."

Oscar let out a low whistle. "Man, that's a lot."

"I know," Lando sighed, his frustration and confusion still gnawing at him.

As Lando finished the race in P1, the frustrations that had plagued him earlier seemed to have dissipated. He stepped out of the car, and the entire team swarmed him, offering hugs, congratulations, and pats on the back. You stood back, your heart swelling with eagerness, tears welling up in your eyes.

Amidst the commotion, your eyes were drawn to Lando, who looked incredibly happy and radiant. His smile, brighter than ever, was like a beacon of joy that made your own heart soar to life. You could hardly contain your emotions as you waited for your turn to congratulate the boy who officially lived rent free in your mind.

After a series of interviews, Lando finally had a moment to break free from the throng of well-wishers and head your way. As he made his approach, your eyes locked together, and in that shared gaze, all your unspoken emotions seemed to flow freely.

The two of you collided in a fierce, emotional hug, and Lando used his whole strength to pull you as close as possible. His face found solace in the crook of your neck as tears of happiness streamed down both of your cheeks. While your hands surrounded his shoulders, tangling in his champagne covered hair as you held on to him with all your might as well.

In that moment, as Lando inhaled your scent, time seemed to come to a standstill, leaving only the two of you in the world, your voice a clear whisper. "Congratulations, Lando, you are the winner." You could feel his rapid heartbeat against your own chest, making your heart come in sync with his.

He pulled away slightly, his gaze locked on your eyes, and you could see the depth of his feeling reflected in his soft, adoring look. "You're my best prize," he said, winking and gently kissing your forehead.

Your heart swelled even more, and you couldn't help the words that so silently escaped your lips, "I am yours."

However, your whisper was not to be heard as Lando was pulled away by ta group of other drivers pulling him into proud hugs. But Lando‘s eyes remained on yours speaking louder than you could, written in the language of your eyes, and it was a memory neither of you would ever forget.

Returning to the hotel after the race, you and Lando were still high on adrenaline from his impressive win. You ended up back in your pajamas, entangled together on the bed, watching a movie. The situation felt like a repetition of a few days ago when you had shared your kiss.

Your mind was racing with thoughts about that kiss, how it had lingered in your thoughts since it had happened. It was as if you couldn't escape the memory, and the way Lando made you feel.

On the other hand, Lando had accepted his fate, believing that he was just a friend to you. He was glad to, at the very least make you a proud friend with his victory, but the weight of disappointment sat heavy on his heart, especially when moments like this, being so close to you, felt utterly natural.

"Lando," you began, voice hesitant, "can I ask you something? But you must be honest."

"Whatever you want, darling," he replied, the endearment bringing a blush to your cheeks.

"Did our kiss mean anything to you?" you asked, eyes searching his with a mixture of hope and trepidation. You needed to know the truth, even if it meant potentially shattering your own heart.

He straightened up, looking directly in your eyes. "Everything... But if you wish to forget it, let's..."

His words trailed off as his gaze fell from yours, unable to withstand your lovely gaze that he was adamant he found himself drowning in

"I wish I never have to forget what kissing your lips feels like" you poured your heart out to your friend, meaning every word you softly spoke to him.

He is shocked by your words but your following actions shock him even further. You place your hands on his cheeks and pull him down, locking in your wish with yet another passionate kiss.

"Y/n please be mine, I’m begging you" the strawberry flavor has once again enveloped his senses and he rests his forehead against yours, his ardent breath ghosting your lips.

"Without a question my love, I’ve been yours this whole time" you reply, sealing your promise with a kiss to his cheek. Lando practically melts into you, breathing you in as if you were his lifeline.

A wide smile broke across his face, and you both began to chuckle as he peppered your face with affectionate kisses. "This is so much better than winning the race," he confessed, caressing your face.

"Even better than the champagne?" you can’t help yourself but tease him for his love of the sparkling drink.

 "Your lips are my champagne now" he said with a smirk, capturing you in another sweet and feverish kiss.

>

A.N. I hope this ain't too shabby...

[vinvantae]

Unmasked

Part 12/16

<<< previous part

Word count: 3.7k

*******

You sat in the cockpit for a moment longer than someone who just got a podium should have, but you got third. It had felt like a kick in the teeth because had your team given you a chance, you could have won. You would have. You had got the fastest lap and your pace was unmatched but the team had favoured Charles - better strategy paired with team orders meant he had got P2 to your P3, moving him even further ahead of you in the championship.

Part of you didn’t want to face Charles, he’d undoubtedly have your outburst thrown back at his face - telling him just how unreasonable you were, what a bad teammate he had. That you were too emotional. When in reality, if any other driver had been told to hold position when they had more pace - they’d be just as frustrated. You sighed and climbed out of the car, throwing the crowds a thumbs up before going over to be weighed. Charles was standing across parc ferme, nodding as he was being Maxsplained to, his back to you.

You took off your helmet and placed it on its stand before approaching your boyfriend, placing a hand on the small of his back to get his attention. As his green eyes fell to you, all of your guilt melted away - sure he didn’t know about your radio message but this was Charles, he wouldn’t care. He grinned and pulled you into a hug, squeezing you with all his might.

“I’m proud of you, Charles.” You whispered, nuzzling your face into his neck.

You felt his arms tighten around your middle, his voice low - his words were for your ears only. “I’m sorry, this should’ve been your win.”

You frowned and pulled back a little - just enough to lock eyes with him, his gaze was soft. “I… what do you mean?”

“My pace was shit come the end, my tires were gone, they told me you weren’t going to attack. You could’ve won this if they let you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before stepping away to do his post race interview.

Your cheeks flushed dark, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly as Max approached you to give you a congratulatory hug. “What a race, happy to be sharing the podium with you for real.”

“First ever post-race interview before then, wish me luck.” You couldn’t help but cringe as you slowly approached Charles, being handed a microphone ready to speak to the crowd for the very first time since your interview. You took a moment to collect yourself as the interviewer thanked your boyfriend - this was a big step, you’d never spoken to the masses like this before and before you knew it, your name was being called so you stepped up to face them.

As loud as cheers were, you couldn’t help but hear the boos hidden beneath - the dissonant harmony rang through your ears as you put on a smile and waved to the crowds, doing your best to ignore them. “Congratulations on your first podium as you, y/n! How does it feel?”

“Unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced.” You laughed, trying to put on your best brave face as you spoke. “Finally being able to put my name to my achievements is something I’ve always wanted to do and now I’m doing it.”

“Team orders meant you couldn’t race your teammate, you didn’t sound too pleased about it - any more to say now?”

You shook your head. “I understand why they gave the orders and we ended up with a double podium - Charles’ tires were vulnerable and if I had gotten past who knows who else might have.”

“Thank you for your time, I hope to see a lot more of you.”

After one more thumbs up to the crowd you dipped into the cool down room to join Charles and Max who were seemingly engrossed in conversation - you placed your things on your pedestal and grabbed your third place cap, sitting it atop your head. Eyes flickering up to the screen as they replayed clips of the race and you couldn’t help but wince when your radio message popped up at the edge of the screen, ending the conversation in the room in a moment.

“...awkward.”

You narrowed your eyes at Max, not wanting to look at your boyfriend as you willed them to hurry up and take the comms off of the screen. It felt like an eternity before someone spoke again, and you felt Charles’ hand on your shoulder as he spoke. “We’re good, I already told you how I feel. Okay?”

The breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped your lips as you nodded, as you opened your mouth to apologise he simply smiled and shook his head - the three of you being summoned to the podium. This time around, Charles heard the crowd when you stepped out in front of them. After his interview he had gone pretty quickly into the cool down room but there was no denying the chorus of boos that were, despite being quieter, threatening to cover up the cheers. There was something about that horrible sound that seemed to overpower its counterpart.

He wanted to cover your ears, cheer louder than he ever had before to cover it up but once the champagne was in his hand - he opted to distract you by pouring the cold liquid down the neck of your race suit. “Fuck, that’s cold!”

Charles grinned as you laughed, returning the favour by spraying the contents of your bottle over him before taking a big swig. It took everything he had not to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you - but he knew the press of it would be too intense so instead for the podium photo, he pulled you tight into his side.

He was going to have your back, no matter what.

***

***

You chewed nervously at the skin around your thumb as you stood in the media pen with your PR manager, waiting for an interviewer to be free. This was your first time in the pen and you could see just why all of the other drivers hated it - you felt like you were in some weird petting zoo. Before you could quietly protest, saying they’ve never interviewed you before, why start now, you were ushered over towards a very excited looking lady - she was the first to get a post race interview with you. After a final deep breath you stepped up to the barricade and gave her a smile.

“Hi y/n, thank you for speaking with me. Great race today.”

“Thank you, it’s a really good result for the team and keeps us in the game for the WCC, we’re ahead right now and we’d like to keep it that way.” You said with confidence, hopefully trying to explain the team orders without shitting on the strategists - as much as you disagreed with it, you wanted to come across as the team player.

She scribbled something down in her notepad before glancing at you through her mascara coated lashes. “Reckon you would’ve won without those orders? You had better pace than Charles and you sounded irritated in your radio message.”

You shrugged a little. “Maybe but there’s no point speculating what could have been. I just need to focus on the next race and hopefully get back on that top step.”

“Thank you, good luck.”

From then on you were ushered from interviewer to interviewer - barely getting a second to breathe before you were asked again and again about the team orders. For the most part they were respectful and you could throw up your media trained answer but as you approached a woman, her carved brow raised and her painted lips curved into an almost evil smirk. You didn’t like where this was going, that was for sure.

“Afternoon, y/n, disappointed by the result?” She went straight in, offering the first jab - which you shook your head at.

“A double podium at this point in the season is key. I’m very proud of the team today.” You refused to break eye contact, the blues of her eyes were intense - like she could read every thought that crossed your mind.

She held up her voice recorder and pressed play - your radio message playing loud over the speaker before she popped it back into the small handbag tucked under her arm. “You didn’t sound too pleased during the race. Don’t you think that after Charles’ performances this season, he deserves to be prioritised by the team? That perhaps you were being a little ungrateful.”

You held your tongue for a moment, the burn of your PR manager’s eyes bore into the side of your head. “In the heat of the moment, I was frustrated, yes. But I understand and respect the team’s decision.”

“You’ve been beaten by Charles in practically every race so far this season - does this mean that you will be second driver from here on out? He is the best shot of winning the championship for the team.” You could almost taste the venom on her words as she taunted you - challenging you to break, so there was proof that you were just this emotional, bitchy woman.

“I will continue to try my hardest in this championship battle, it's not lost yet. We’re barely a third of the way into the season, there’s no telling what’s gonna happen. Thanks.”

You stepped away from her before it got ugly, you knew no matter how calm you were - people were still going to find ways to tear you down. You hadn’t won. You’d complained about Charles. The people who didn’t like you never would - it was hard to accept, especially when they were so damn loud. You felt trapped in your head, their cruel words caging you in as you walked back to the ferrari motorhome for the end of the day.

And as soon as you were alone, you did the worst thing you could have possibly done… and went online.

Charles had already seen some of the responses to your radio message and post-race interviews, for the most part people were on your side but he just knew that for the hundreds of nice comments - there were 10 negative ones that would catch your eye. He got caught up in the media pen longer than he would’ve liked, protecting you from the snark reporters were tossing in your direction, trying to get him to bite back at you. But he was frustrated for you. You were right in your message, you could’ve beat Max and as much as he wanted to win the championship, he didn’t want to do it at your expense.

He lightly rapped his knuckles on the door of your driver’s room, hearing a soft shuffling from inside before the lock unclicked and you peered around. “Hey, been waiting for you… come on in.”

“My interviews dragged on a little more than I would have liked. How are you doing?” Your teammate hummed, stepping into the room - allowing you to lock the door behind him. He crossed over to the couch, draping his arm across the back as you sat beside him.

“...They really don’t like me, Charles.” You mumbled, leaning into his side. “I feel like no matter what I do they’re going to criticise me.”

“Baby, they criticise all of-”

You narrowed your eyes at him, shrugging his arm off of your shoulder - and standing. “Don’t you dare compare criticisms you get to how they talk about me. You don’t get it. You’ll never get it.”

“Then talk to me, y/n!” Charles finally snapped. “How am I supposed to be there for you if you won’t tell me what’s going on in your head! You’re shutting me out. I’m your boyfriend, your teammate… if you can’t talk to me then who can you talk to?”

“I don’t know! Okay?! None of you get it. Lewis maybe but none of you have never and will never be a woman in this community. And I get why now. It’s not because we’re not talented enough because there’s some girls out there with more talent than half this grid in their pinkies but because no one will ever see us the way they see you.” You really didn’t mean to take all of this out on Charles, you knew his intentions were good but he’d opened the can of worms and now he was dealing with the mess. “It doesn’t even matter if I had won the race today, they would’ve accused me of stealing it from you.”

Your teammate stood up and approached you, taking your shoulders in his hands. “I know I won’t ever understand… I’m very aware of how privileged I am. But, I am your number one supporter y/n. I know it’s hard to ignore but we’ll get through this… you’ll get through this. You’re bigger and brighter than they’ll ever be.”

He watched as a tear rolled down your cheek. “I’m… I’m just not sure if I will get through this. I knew there’d be backlash but this? Physical violence… boos everytime I get in front of a crowd? It hurts so much.”

Charles wished he had the right words to say at that moment but instead he wrapped you up in his arms, burying his face into your neck and just holding you close. He felt your arms rest against him weakly, your chin hooking over his shoulder. It was hard for him, you were right - he’d never get what you were being put through. All he could do was defend you, but he was scared it wasn’t enough as you extracted yourself from his hold and started gathering up your things to head home for the day. The spark of hope you had about being revealed had been fully extinguished and he wasn’t sure what to do.

But he knew he had to do something.

***

***

“So what’s this all about?”

Charles stood in front of the grid, Lewis and Sebastian either side of him, Seb had somehow managed to pull everyone together for a briefing without you finding out and now 16 pairs of eyes were staring him down.

“It’s about y/n.” He said, fiddling with the edge of the table he was perched against. “All of this criticism is getting too much and we need to back her.”

“All of us get criticism, I don’t see why you need to waste our time with a meeting about this.” Fernando rose from his chair. “I’m sorry, but I am not interested in whatever you have planned… she needs to learn to deal with it herself.”

He shook his head and left the room, muttering to himself in Spanish. Charles stood there quietly for a moment, waiting to see if anyone would follow the driver out of the room but thankfully the rest remained in their seats - he wasn’t sure if it was Lewis and Seb's gazes from behind him keeping them in their seats or if they genuinely wanted to help.

“Look, the criticism we get is nothing compared to the backlash that y/n has been getting…” Lewis said, pushing himself off of the wall to stand beside the younger driver. “I like to think we’ve all stood together before for one of our own. You all stand or kneel with me when I’ve asked before, so I hope this cause is as important.”

“Just because she’s a woman, it doesn’t mean that what she’s achieved is any less.” Seb spoke next. “You all know that. We’re not asking for you to set the FIA on fire, we just want you to stand with her.”

Max leant back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “I mean… I’ve got a lighter somewhere.”

Lando shoved his friend’s shoulder lightly. “Idiot. What did you guys have in mind?”

“Just a simple shared statement posted onto our instagrams.” Charles tried to make eye contact with each of his rivals, in an attempt to gauge what they were thinking. “Just saying how we won’t tolerate the bullying and actual violence.”

The Dutchman frowned. “That’s it? She was attacked, Charles… I’m in but you’ve got to have a better plan than that.”

“What did you have in mind?” Lewis said. “We didn’t want to go guns ablaze and scare you guys off.”

“I think a blanket statement is sensible.” George spoke up next, leaning forward in his chair a little - Max still didn’t look impressed. “I think a message like that from all of us will go a long way.”

Max scoffed. “Yeah sure, it won’t come across as a PR move at all. You guys can do whatever you want but I’m not just going to sit here whilst there are people out there who think they can hurt her and get away with it.”

The room fell into a stunned silence as he stood up, he stopped in front of Charles - eyes flickering across his childhood friend’s face. “I’m disappointed in you. She deserves better than this.”

The Monegasque was lost for words as the current champion left the room, the door shutting behind him the only sound in the room. He had no idea how vehemently Max felt about what you were going through.

What surprised him next was Esteban, despite his publicly tumultuous relationship with Max, he didn’t even hesitate to follow him out of the room - muttering something in French about fighting for you. He had never really considered that your other childhood karting rivals would be just as passionate as Max about standing up for you - especially as, unlike the Dutchman, he hadn’t known your secret prior to your reveal. Esteban was never one for bold statements either so the fact he was willing to do something like this surprised most of the drivers in the room.

“Uhm, anyone else?” Charles asked quietly, eyes flickering across the room. He could see a couple drivers looking a little fidgety, like they wanted to go but not knowing what Max had planned - Charles’ idea seemed like a safer bet.

He barely noticed Lewis’ strong hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “Are you still happy doing it like this? We can do something else if you don’t feel like it’s enough.”

Charles frowned a little but nodded. “Yeah. I mean, people can customise things as they see fit but I feel like the more of us they hear from the better. If you’re interested can you leave us a place to send the blanket message to? Thanks.”

He gave handshakes and bro-hugs to each of the drivers as they left the room, not noticing the way that Pierre was hanging back - still sat in his chair. The Frenchman had a feeling in his stomach that Max was right, that this wasn’t enough. He was as guilty as anyone for assuming that Thirty was a man and just like some of the others, he’d known you since you were a kid, he knew what you were capable of but has always taken your story as gospel, never questioned it. The fact he hadn’t recognised you when he joined F1 was just the final nail in the coffin, he’d ignored you more than he cared to admit- even objectifying you like many other women in the paddock.

“Pierre, you okay, man?” The Ferrari driver sat beside him. “Looking a little spaced out.”

“Max is right. I don’t… mate, I don’t have a fucking leg to stand on here.” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t exactly an advocate for women, for her, being in the sport.”

“C’mon, you didn’t know.”

Pierre’s frown deepened. “That’s not an excuse. I grew up with her and since we stopped racing together I spent more time staring at her fucking tits and ass than taking a second to use my brain.”

Charles went to speak but his childhood companion rose suddenly from his seat. Pierre walked over to the door before stopping with his hand wrapped around the handle.

“Do you not remember before her reveal when you were coming out of that team thirty meeting and I didn’t even consider her? I have to find Max. I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque sat there for a little while longer as he thought about what Max and Pierre had both said. They were right, you did deserve more than just some statement but he was nervous. He was the Tifosi’s golden boy - meanwhile, he was sure Max could get away with anything and well Pierre was a nuisance so he did what he wanted regardless.

And he loved you, he did but his reputation mattered too right? He just had to figure out the best way to do it without putting up the picket signs and actively tearing down the FIA HQ to get them to protect you. His eyes flickered to the door where the grid had since left him to his thoughts. Should he have followed Max, Pierre and Esteban? Or should he stick to Sebastian and Lewis’ sage advice?

He knew you were the only person who would know exactly what to do right now - that you would give him the perfect answer. But he also knew that if you knew what he was up to, you’d say that you weren’t worth all this fuss.

But you were worth it, more than.

As his phone buzzed in his pocket he fished it out, a text from you bringing a smile to his face. The public didn’t need to love you like he did - he wasn’t sure they ever would - but you deserved as much respect as the rest of your rivals. And if meant blindly following Max, Pierre and Esteban as they acted out whatever craziness they had planned…

He was going to do it.

***

Next part >>>

Thank you all for being patient!! Last weekend was so good 🏎️ hope you enjoy!!

Want to be notified when I post? Join our discord, head over to #reaction-roles and click the sunflower 🌻

[vivwritesfics]

warnings: mentions of death

Series Masterlist

"It's the first home race for Oscar Sainz and everybody is rooting for him."

Oscar was proud to be wearing orange as he stood on the circuit, listening his national anthem. The twenty four year old had his parents there, watching him and cheering him on.

He wanted his sister there, too, but she was busy. At nineteen years old, Valentina Sainz was running the Sainz family. Well, not completely, not yet. Carlos was still the head of the family, but Valentina did a lot. He was setting her up to take over the family one day.

So that her parents could watch Oscar, Tina stayed at home to take care of any work that needed doing. Her grandma was there too, helping her out. Women have always run this family, her grandma often said to her. There was one exception, Valentina's mother, but she let that part out.

By the time Tina was sixteen, she was used to having bloody knuckles. She loved the feeling of it, that might have made her a monster, but she didn't care. She loved seeing the imprint of the ring her father gave her on somebody's skin.

Valentina had watched Oscar's races on television whenever she could. When he moved into F2, she watched on the television with her mother, while Carlos travelled with him. The family hated being apart, but it was for Oscar. The Sainz family would do anything for their children.

Oscar was an insane rookie. Valentina had watched on the television as he scored points in almost every race in his first year. It was crazy just how good her brother was. It was a mystery to everybody how he hadn't gotten a seat until now.

Oscar brought along one big sponsor, his family. Of course, they were known as something else, a front of a company to hide the real nature the of Sainz family money.

Oscar scored points all the way through his rookie season. He finished eighth in the drivers championship, which his family understood to be incredibly good for a rookie.

For his last race of the season, Tina wanted to be there. Her grandma took over the role of head of the family for the weekend, with Carlos on speed dial, while they went to watch Oscar in Abu Dhabi.

He did incredibly well in his final race, achieving his first podium. His mother was crying, his father was beaming, and Tina was incredibly proud of her brother. Oscar ran straight into their arms.

Many of the families congratulated Oscar at the few events he had to turn up to. Almost all of them watched racing, watched as he climbed his way to the top. Fernando of the Alonso family told him that he would be a world champion in no time. And he would be. He really would be.

Oscar knew who he was named after. He knew that Oscar Piastri, the man that had saved his mother, the man he was named after, had wanted to race. He wanted to do what Oscar Sainz was now doing.

Oscar visited his grave site. Over the Australian Grand Prix weekend, Oscar and his parents went to visit his grave. There were always fresh flowers, Carlos made sure of that.

"Hey," Oscar said as he sat in front of the headstone. He'd asked his parents for privacy and they'd given it. "It's Oscar, Y/N and Carlos's kid." He'd visited the grave only twice before, when he and his father were in the country for racing purposes.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited you more," he said as he pulled his orange McLaren hat from his head. "I made it to Formula One, by the way. I know that was your dream, too." Actually, Oscar had something written on his helmet, so small that most couldn't read it. It was his mothers idea to have 'For Uncle Osc' printed on the back of his helmet.

"I wish I could have met you," said Oscar as he placed his hat on top of the headstone. "I bet we would have raced together. I think that would have made my mum really happy."

Oscar stood up from the ground. He touched his fingers to the headstone and turned around, walking away from his Uncles headstone, back to his family.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @hiireadstuff @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @chonkybonky @shobaes @celesteblack08 @watermelonworries @gracielukey @cassie0sstuff @goldenharrysworld @venusesworld @sparklyperfectionstranger @evans-dejong @graciewrote @formulaal

[dancingwithreality]

a dream p.g.10

gif not mine!

parings: pierre gasly x fem!reader ; friends to lovers

word count: 3.9k

summary: a drabble on pierre’s unrelenting feelings for you, what started as a childhood crush turned into full fledged love and it was eating him alive.

a/n: for context purposes, pierre isn’t with kika (duh) and the fia dropped those penalties 11pm in austria just so the scene makes sense. started writing this before silverstone so we’re going into our own little world with this. will make other parts if people like it enough

please do not take my work! enjoy and interact!

AUSTRIA WAS OVER, finally, and the weekend proved to be more than eventful. For your best friend, the results were just what he needed. Ferrari made some additions to their car and Charles was finally to get back on the podium. Unfortunately for your other best friend it wasn’t perfect. 

‘Tenth isn’t bad, you’re still in points,’ you remind Pierre as you perfect your makeup and touch up your hair in the mirror.

‘A point,’ he stresses. ‘One singular point, I’m still 15 points behind Esteban,’ he slouches further into the arm chair he’s occupying. His hair is a mess from how many times his hands run through it, his white linen shirt only getting more wrinkled and he decompresses in your hotel room.

Walking past him to your suitcase, you reach for the only pair of heels you brought, and slip them on. The thin white straps perfectly matched the white silk dress you decided on. ‘There will be more races, the gap will close. Besides, tonight we can get drunk and celebrate Charles, forget about your sour mood until the morning.’ You stand up and walk over to him, hands reached out. He placed his hands in yours and allowed you to pull him up begrudgingly. 

Standing at now an almost equal height, you mess with his hair to try and make him look more presentable. Pierre keeps that far off look in his eyes while he stares down at you. There’s something behind his eyes you cant quite place but you chop it up to being unpleased with todays results. 

‘You look more presentable now, lets go,’ you grab your purse and keep one hand wrapped around his while you exit the hotel room. You meet up with Charles in the elevator and give him another congratulatory hug before making your way to whatever club everyone wanted to go to tonight.

••• 

Drinks were flowing, moral was taking multiple hits, and you were out of your mind drunk dancing with Lando off the side of the dance floor. It was roughly midnight now, and someone had gotten the memo of the twelve penalties given out and told everyone. You can’t remember exactly who got the information, but it spread quickly throughout the group. As formally mentioned, Lando was having the night of his life. He benefitted from all of it and moved up to fourth so he decided he was going out in style tonight.

Poor Esteban was at the corner of the bar slowly nursing his drink while he was grieving the news. Lewis had left to facetime Roscoe, thinking it could make him feel better. Carlos, already in an off mood since breaking it off with Isa, was singing some of the most depressing Spanish songs you’d heard, his back against the booth while Charles watched over him. 

Pierre’s mood hadn’t changed, he was still sulking but this time it was Charles’ problem. He watched you have fun with Lando, wishing it was one of those nights where your happiness rubbed off on him. Charles could almost smell the desperation flowing off of him as he watched you as well. He turned his head and faced Pierre, he knew that look. 

Charles released a quick breath, ‘You know, we’ve known each other a long time, we’re getting too old for this mate,’ he took a quick sip of his drink and pointed his eyes at Pierre.

Pierre turned his head to face Charles, ‘Yeah..’ he didn’t know where Charles was going with this. 

‘Some things can’t be bottled up forever, feelings, secrets..’ he pushed further.

‘Okay..?’ he still didn’t understand.

‘Secretly pinning over your friend you’re in love with, is kinda tiring,’ Charles sighed.

‘Look mate, I love you but not like that,’ Pierre scooted a few inches further from him. 

‘Merde,’ Charles rubbed his face, ‘you love her.’ 

‘What? I’ve known her for years, she’s my best friend,’ he said with a little extra stress on the friend.

‘Ah, but you knew I was talking about her.’ Charles eyes dart over to you, still dancing with Lando. Your head was knocked back in laughter, he must of said something, because while you laughed Lando’s face was pink and he had a shy smile.

‘Charles,’ Pierre started but got quickly interrupted.

‘You can’t lie to me, I know you too well. I know what’s in your head.’ Charles wrapped his knuckles lightly over the side of Pierre’s head. 

His hand was quickly shooed away. ‘ You’re not a guru mate, relax.’ The Frenchman reached for his drink again and took a lengthy sip. ‘She’s my best friend, I can’t lose her if it doesn’t work out. Things are perfect as they are.’

‘Are they? You’ve never held a solid relationship and follow her like a lost puppy. You’ll never know unless you actually make a move.’

‘And if she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore?’

‘She won’t. You know she’s not like that, she loves you too much.’ The two men shared a long look as Pierre let his gaze fall back to you, Charles let out a deep sigh went back to babysitting Carlos.

•••

Maybe two hours had passed and Pierre was dragging you back to the hotel. You all had a flight around midday, and he knew you would prefer if you weren’t drunk during it. You’d bid goodbye to both Charles and Carlos an hour ago when they left before you, Charles leaving with a pat on Pierre’s back and a silent look.

Now it was just the two of you, long time best friends walking back to your room. Your shoes had been long discarded as they only got harder to walk in. Pierre was holding them in his hands while you rested against his back. As soon as you’d left the club you begged him to carry you, the dancing had tired you out too much, you said.

Knowing how chivalrous he was, and how he could never say no when you looked at him like that, he let you hop on his back and he carried you to bed. From the street, to the lobby, to the elevator, and back up in your room, he absorbed the feeling of you. Your arms around his neck and your soft breath tickling him as you quietly sang all your favorite ABBA songs, the warmth of your chest on his back and the soft skin of your legs. He let himself dream, just this once, and dive into a world in his mind where you were his. Where touches like these happened freely and more occurring.

But that’s exactly what it was. A dream. That’s all he would let it be. If you put both on a scale, his intensely deep love for you would be outweighed by his desperate need to keep you as his friend. Regardless of how Charles’ words echoed through his mind he couldn’t act on it. He knew that reality well.

‘Chérie, I need you to open the door now,’ He readjusted his hold on you and leaned down a bit further so you could put your key card in. Your hair tickling his neck as you reached forward to open the door sent a shock wave through his system. Walking through the doorway he cleared his throat as he sets you down.

The feeling of your hands sliding down his back as you let go made the hairs on his neck stand up. It always got harder to focus when you were near, even so when you made any physical contact. Pierre sets your heels down next to your suitcase as you suddenly start stripping out of your dress and into your pajamas, getting ready for bed.

If his face wasn’t bright red before it was now, as he whipped right around to give you some privacy and try to maintain his dignity.

‘Thank you so much for carrying me back,’ you call out to him as you slip your dress off.

‘O-Of course chérie,’ he fidgets in place as he keeps his back turned.

Still inebriated you giggle at his stutter, ‘You’re such a good friend,’ his heart aches at the word. ‘Can’t believe you took care of little drunk me instead of finding some girl and taking care of her,’ you giggled suggestively and slipped a t-shirt (that may or may not be Pierre’s) on over your head.

‘And leave my favorite girl all alone? Never,’ He was glad you couldn’t see him at the moment. His face would’ve betrayed him if his voice didn’t already, leave you by yourself? Choose another girl over you? The idea was so foreign to him.

‘I’ve tamed the playboy! Quick, call the press!’ You laugh as you fall backwards on your bed, now fully clothed. He turned around and chuckled with you. Pierre crossed over to your side of the bed and goes to tuck you in. Seeing you nestle into the covers only made him adore you more.

When you’re settled in, he places a long kiss to your hairline, pulling away and pushing the strands out of your face, ‘Sweet dreams amour,’ he whispered so quiet not even a mouse could hear.

‘I love you Pear, never change,’ you mutter into your pillow.

All he can do is smile as he turns the lights off and leaves your room. As soon as it’s closed his head hits the door, ‘I love you more than you could imagine.’

He says it like a prayer in the night, to himself, for his ears only, but he has to say it.

•••

The jet was due to take off anytime soon, as it sat on the runway waiting for it’s last passenger.

‘You’re late,’ Charles tsks as you sit down next to Pierre and lean your head against the wall.

‘Calm your tits, you’ll make it in time for the next race.’ You groaned, adjusting your giant black sunglasses to filter out more light.

‘Rough night?’ Pierre asks as he tips the bill of your cap upwards, exposing more of your face.

‘I don’t want to drink ever again,’ you shuffled to lay your back against his side and kicked your feet up to the edge of the bench.

‘Where have I heard that before,’ Charles comments, at that you pull one of your slides off and throw it at him with surprising accuracy. ‘Ouch, okay miss grumpy I’ll leave you alone.’

He sticks his tongue out at you now that you can’t see him. The trip was going to long with you like this if you didn’t get some coffee in you to sober up. You knew this, and the boys knew it even more than you since having to deal with your hangovers for years. 

So, adjusting your position against him you, Pierre holds your weight with one arm while holding his cup of coffee to your lips. ‘Here, have a sip.’ He angled the cup upwards and watched as you took a little more than a sip of his coffee.

‘Ugh, thanks Pierre. You’re always so sweet to me,’ you reach up and pat the side of his face before falling back into your comfortable position against him. ‘Unlike someone,’ you let your glasses fall down a little bit so Charles can see the look you send him.

‘Yeah well one of us isn’t in love with you,’ he muttered into his own coffee, not intending for anyone to hear.

‘You say something Cha?’ you piped up from your spot.

‘No he didn’t, he’s just being annoying because he can’t let anything be.’ Pierre wraps an arm around your resting frame and gives Charles a look that would definitely kill him if he and the Frenchman were in a more private space. 

•••

Free practice is in a day and Pierre is restless. He runs through the track in his mind, memorizing the corners he could overtake and making a play-by-play of the best way he can preform. He also has an itch that's been begging to be scratched in a while. Being hopelessly in love with your best friend makes it really hard to have any kind of love life.

If he finds a girl he likes, which is rare, its either only for a night or he constantly compares her to you in his mind, and no one deserves that. With that in mind, it means most of his romantic adventures last for a night before he can feel guilty about being with someone else, even if he isn’t with you. Or he spends the nights alone.

But he still does it. He goes out every night, finds a girl, and goes back to her place. Bringing her back to his hotel room where you are so close, his hotel room that you spend most of your time in, it felt vile and disgraceful. He always goes back to her place, trying to have a good night without thinking of you. Closing his eyes and trying to erase you from his thoughts. 

As he walked back in shame to his hotel room, he could hear your laughter echoing from your door. Some cruel twist of fate always puts your hotel rooms close together and it makes him feel worse. Pierre couldn’t take the sick feeling he got when he realized what he just did and he jumps into the shower immediately. Scrubbing and scrubbing to get the feeling off of him. Using the hottest water possible to burn the feeling off his skin.

Pierre wraps a towel around his waist once he’s out and he sees a new message from you. You were inviting him over to watch a movie together when he was done and he just couldn’t say no. He slips his pajamas on and goes next door to yours. 

He knows you’ll sit cuddled together on your bed while whatever movie you’ve picked plays on the tv. He knows you’ll end you falling asleep on his shoulder like you always do. He knows he’ll put the volume lower, so as to not wake you, and stay there with your death grip wrapped around him. He knows he’ll lay there dreaming of a life with you where it was like this every night. 

He really has it bad, doesn’t he?

•••

The three of you were walking to the garages, laughing and chatting on your way. You usually got distracted while on the way so Pierre’s hand was softly holding your elbow while he pulled you out of the way of trees, other people, trash cans, just about anything you would run into. 

This time, he hears someone progressively getting loader behind you. Out of curiosity Pierre turns around and sees someone running up but their head was turned. For whatever reason this person was in a rush they were positioned perfectly to barrel straight into you. With his super fast reflex his hands reached out to grab your waist and pull you into his chest, making sure you were safe.

‘Woah!’ you called out, surprised by the sudden movement shocked by the sudden proximity. Whoever it was that he saved you from blew past and yelled out a ‘Sorry!’. You’d all stopped walking and your hands were gripping the front of Pierre’s shirt. The way he was staring down at you and lightly laughing felt weird.

‘Alright, cherie?’ he pushed some hair out your face that was obstructing your view.

Were his eyes always this blue? Have you ever been this close to him before? Did he always smell like lemons and freshly washed linen? Were his hands always so warm on your skin? You could feel his fingertips on your hips and it made tingles shoot through you. You don’t remember his lips being that pink and soft looking. Actually, you don’t remember thinking about his lips before. You didn’t know why you were, still, thinking about his lips. Shaking yourself out of this daze, you cleared your throat and laughed. 

‘Yeah I’m, uh, alright. Thanks,’ You smoothed down your shirt and readjusted your shorts around your waist. When you look back up Pierre looks a little unconvinced but laughs it off as he keeps walking. As he passes you Charles fall right into view, and he look he’s giving you is smug. ‘What?’ you ask him. 

‘Nothing! Nothing at all,’ he shrugs and starts walking very slowly. ‘Someone got a little nervous for a second there.’ His shit-eating grin is wider than you’ve seen it before, and you’ve seen it a lot. 

‘No I didn’t!’ you were getting defensive now, which normally means you’re hiding something or afraid to admit you’re wrong. 

‘I dont know if I believe you,’ he says in a sing-song voice and you respond by shoving him. Now you’ve both stopped in your tracks and Charles was rubbing the side of his arm. ‘You’re the one who got lost in Pierre’s dreamy eyes in literal public.’

‘If you’re saying his eyes are dreamy I think we need to have another conversation, mate,’ Now you were just plain deflecting and you knew he could see right through it. 

‘Actually, if my ears don’t deceive me, you just called his eyes dreamy.’ If his grin got any wider you’d swore it would split his face in half. You turned forward and watched Pierre chat with someone who stopped him to say hi. While watching him you get lost in thoughts that felt brand new. 

Charles watched you watch Pierre and just raised his eyebrow and deadpanned. He could only shake his head and keep moving forward while pulling you behind him. Sometimes he felt like he was the only one with eyes in this friend group.

‘You guys coming or what?’ Pierre called from way ahead of you and waved his hand in a come here motion. You ran up to him and the second you got close enough he slotted you underneath his arm and kept chatting about as you two went over to the Alpine garage. Charles stood in his place and veered off to Ferrari as he watched you and Pierre from behind. You were slightly awkward now but trying to shake off whatever the weird feeling was plaguing you at the moment. Looks like Charles’ plan to get you two to admit your feelings for each other and get together didn’t need that much meddling from his part after all, fate was pushing you into his arms and oh, how Charles loved fate right now.

•••

You sat in hospitality while you waited for Pierre to finish his shower. You were scrolling on YouTube and found a video you wanted to watch, so you went to reach for your headphones when you realized they weren’t there. The only obvious place for you to have left them were in his room. Maybe you could just sneak in and grab them, and sneak out unnoticed. 

You creeped into his room and kept your head down. He was humming quietly to himself and you found yourself smiling at it, before blinking and getting back to the mission. Hand wrapped around them you went to exit just as quietly but you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye. His frame seemed to glow from behind the shower curtain, why was there light in there anyway?

You stared at his wide shoulders and watched the muscles move as he washed his hair. You stood there mesmerized watching his back move as he kept showering. His waist tapered and got smaller as your eyes travelled down his back, but his frame stayed strong. Before your eyes started going further down you shut them quickly. 

This time you rushed out of the room quickly and you sat with your back against the wall. You’d seen his back before. Plenty of times really. You’d know him since you were kids, you’d gone to the beach and gone swimming with him before. You swore you knew what he looked like. But you’d never seen him like that before, it felt different. You didn’t know what to even think anymore. From earlier this morning to now, you were confused.

Why did a Formula 1 driver even need those muscles? Doesn't it like, make him heavier and affect the drag or something? Since when did he have them anyway, 'Hey!' His voce dragged you out of your head. 'I'm almost ready, you got all your stuff?'

'Yeah, all good!' you gave a thumbs up even though he couldn't see you. Your head fell into your hands and you almost laughed in your own embarrassment. Nearly a second later Pierre opened the door and you fell backwards onto his chest.

'Woah there,' he laughed and held your shoulders, he leaned forward just ever so closer to your face. 'You're all over the place today, huh?'

'Apparently.' You shot back onto your own two feet trying to shake the feeling of his chest on your back out of your head. The entire walk to the car you were silent, just listening to Pierre voice his concerns and ideas about qualifying and the race. Then in the car you stayed silent as music flowed through the speakers and filled the silence.

What was wrong with you today? Why was this happening to you? Why can't you stop thinking about him and how his body felt against yours? His hands felt so large on your shoulders and his chest so solid when you leaned against it. And what was that this morning? You'd hugged Pierre before so why did it feel so different now. You'd felt him before, but this felt like you'd felt him. Your mind was racing the entire night so you texted Charles to see if you guys could talk once you got back.

And talk you did.

•••

'Hmm, yes,' Charles rubbed his chin after you just told him everything about earlier. 'I think I know what the problem is.'

'Okay?' You were really starting to question him after he sat in silence for five minutes.

‘You like him.’ He stated like it was so simple. He sat there with his arms crossed and that stupid look on his face.

You stared mouth agape, what drugs was he on. You? Like Pierre? Your best friend? No, no way, 'I highly doubt that Cha. It's probably just, pent up energy.'

'Then relieve it, maybe that'll being some clarity to the situation.'

'No! What are you on about? Mon dieu, Charles you're losing your mind.'

'If you knew what was actually wrong with you, why'd you come to me then?' Charles asked with his arms crossed.

'I think I just need to clear my head.' You got up and walked out, 'Thanks Cha, really.'

'You're welcome,' he mutters as you walk away. Why is he always being put in this position where he's stuck between two very stubborn people. 'Everybody asks Charles for help, but no one ever listens to Charles.' He slumps down and goes back to his book that was previously put down at your urgency.

•••

You'd been sat off the pools ledge, with your legs moving steadily. Why did things have to start changing? Why couldn't things stay the same? What were you supposed to do now?

It was getting late as you checked your watch so you decided to go back to your room. There were so many thoughts in your head you couldn't make a solid conclusion. You debated back and forth, to do or not to do. So there you stood, in front of the door, debating.

Before you get to decide, a familiar voice calls your name.

'Hi.'

fin

[lestappenforever]

After properly waking up (and finally not having any more wake up for the race till Vegas, WE DID IT), here’s a bit if my analysis of the race, which is my favourite so far, a bit even more than Japan, because of its chaos and emotions

First, hometown hero. Zhou was not driving the car based on anything, other than pure emotion. He was living his dream in a way that I wish everyone could one day, honestly I’ve been emotional since that sprint shootout when he reached SQ3 and so proud that he is making history and realising his dream. On a more technical aspect, Sauber meed to get their shit together, the car is not good, and the fact that we celebrate them having a pit stop less than 5 seconds is so disappointing. They need to get it together to get points and be in that fight.

Nico Hulkenberg is a Goat, there I said it. The way he is taking that Haas places is just phenomenal, and honestly I think he deserves a proper team, and he so deserves to be on a podium, more than just one time. Kevin had an okay race, except of course, for ruining Yuki’s. But if K-Mag did not get his shit together, Ollie very easily could replace him next year, especially since Komatsu is no Guenther, and he will not have the mentality of fucking the youngster over.

RB’s weekend was going very well, in terms of race not sprint, that sprint was not great, but the circuit is not for them, and it’s Yuki’s first time there, so an off weekend (a normal one) was not going to be the worst thing in the world. But the way the race played out, with Kevin knocking Yuki out if the race with a stupid crash, destroying his race, and then Fernando locking up and hence lance knocks Daniel out with a crash that was so easy to prevent if he was focused on the car in front of him instead of the apex during the time of a safety car returning to the pit, the pack all close together and still getting up to speed. Yeah, that sucked for them, Daniel especially who was in contention of points. But other than that, the strategy was kind if fucked up, but it could have been saved at the end if it were not for both Astons.

As I said last race week, the Alpines are slowly but surely getting better. They started having pace today, and even if it were anyone else other than Nico, Esteban could have gotten points, but Nico Masterclass. This season is showing who is the leader of the French team, and it’s Estie. He’s extracting every single once if pace in that car, even if there isn’t any, and is showing that he’s the one. Pierre, tbh is getting better as well, but not to the Esteban level of almost Q3 and potentially points. Actually I feel like Pierre has not given much (expect for the Dutch GP last year) where he’s showing that the move to Alpine was a right choice for him.

George is impressive, and I hate to say it, more that Lewis is. He’s getting out everything out of the car, and I feel is working harder to keep Mercedes alive this season, with both the sprint and the race, with snagging that last point in the sprint from a shit quali, to an impressive performance in a track that doesn’t suit the new Mercedes cars, and trying his damn best all weekends, I’m genuinely impressed and proud of him, especially with the way he’s working to show the team that he could be a leader. Meanwhile I feel like Lewis is just trying to finish the year to go to Maranello, granted he’s trying, but I feel George is working harder.

McLaren, I have mixed emotions, Oscar was okay, again his first time on that track, but when compared to Lando, he did okay, not great. Lando was actually phenomenal, pulling that one stop, and doing so well in that, holding Checo back almost half of the race, he should be extremely proud of himself. And on that note, I love seeing Adam Norris down when Lando and Max are on the podium, I feel he’s proud of his son, but also Max, and I am just so happy and giddy

Ferrari, Idk what to feel. On one hand, Charles was phenomenal, but on the other, all these plans just give me anxiety, again, pulling that one stopper, but Checo got him, in a track that doesn’t feel of seem suited for the car, actually impressed. Carlos however, seemed to have gotten in his head, from saying yesterday that if he got Max he would have won the sprint, to the unnecessary fight with Charles on the sprint, he’s getting cocky, and that won’t help his situation of getting into a good team next year.

Red Bull, I AM SO FUCKING IMPRESSED AND I CANNOT BEGIN TO SAY HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS TEAM AND AM SO PROUD OF THEM. Max was just phenomenal, despite the sprint quali that was apparently not so great because the car was not set up for rain. Simply because the forecast didn’t show much rain. As for the race, damn I can’t believe the team did that, 2 perfect double stacks with a total pit stop time of 8 for changing 16 tyres. The pit crew are the actual heroes today. Checo you could see that he’s disappointed, and that shows how much he’s comfortable in the car, and how at one he is with the team, in addition to knowing the stakes at hand. But nonetheless, he was phenomenal in a weekend that according to him, wasn’t great. But yeah, this race was just amazing and chaotic and tbh, I love this chaos. And up next Miami, what will each one do, especially since Max never got pole there (just like Jeddah). We shall see

(Also, hoping the girls next race have a good weekend, especially the Red Bull girls, not because they’re Re Bull, I’ve been impressed by Hamda since COTA last year, and I called she’ll be the RBR girl)

I have nothing to add to any of this, so I'll just leave it in all its glory as it is. ❤️

[willows-wonderful-writing-world]

Chapter One : ~ The Beginning ~

a pretty short chapter but that’s okay!! I’m pretty proud of it, and I think that’s all that matters!! (Tagging : @magpiesquill x 3) No trigger warnings for this part! This is also not proof read so dont be scared to point out mistakes!!

“Come on! Come on! Hurry up, we don’t have time to lose!” 

Yelling quickly woke Mallory, the poor fifteen year old, up from his nap. “H- huh? Wha. . .” He looked around his treehouse, dazed and confused. Looking up, he sees his friend, Theo, looking panicked and rushed. 

Theo walks up to Mallory, grabbing his hand and pulling him up to his feet. “What the heck are you doing here?!” she asked, sounding annoyed. “We have to get to The House, quick! Did you forget that today is the day of the sacrifice, you fool! Up, up!” 

Crap.

That seemed to have gotten Mallory awake, as he stood up straighter. “Already? Oh Holy Father, forgive me. . .” He muttered under his breath, now beginning to feel as panicked as Theo did. “I thought that was weeks away, I didn’t— ”

��It doesn’t matter what you think! Fix yourself up, change, and come out once you do!” Theo sighed before letting go to leave by climbing down the ladder.

The treehouse was not too big, but not too small. All it had was a small pile of blankets and a few boxes full of various things. The only reason this place even exists was because it was Mallory’s hideaway whenever things got too much.

He looked through a box before grabbing a simple poet’s shirt and black pants. Nothing too much, as that would be inappropriate for this occasion. Changing quickly, he then put his old clothes away before climbing down the treehouse.

His feet hit the ground with a light thud, Theo’s gaze falling upon him once he arrived. “Ah, I thought you’d take longer.” she said drily, grabbing Mallory’s hand before the two began to walk. “Seriously, you probably took more time than my mother.”

“Hey!” Mallory frowned, yanking his hand away from Theo’s. “Why are you– ”

“Shut up. We don’t have time to argue, and would The Family approve of you insulting your sister?” Theo asked smugly, not even bothering to look back at Mallory.

“But you– ”

“Hurry up.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Mallory stood near Theo, watching as The Priestess walked up onto the podium. People were all around, almost everyone seemed to want to move closer to the stage.

“Settle down, settle down everyone.” The Priestess said in a soft voice, yet despite the softness everyone seemed to listen and stop moving.

Mallory let out a silent sigh.

“Now, as everybody may know, today is the special day where we choose a sacrifice for The Family. We live to serve them, and being a sacrifice is one of the utmost honors any one person could have.” The Priestess paused, looking around the crowd before continuing. Mallory could have swore her gaze lasted on him for just a second longer than needed. “Now, onto the selection process. Everyone of age must write their name down onto a sheet of paper and put it into the pail that corresponds to said person’s sex. You may move.”

With that, people began to move towards the front, and that is when Mallory found out why people wanted to get to the front. The papers were up there, and like The Priestess said, this is a very important thing. The Family has provided all of them with the life they needed! The people outside simply didn’t know how wonderful it is with The Family.

Mallory had never signed up before, mainly because he’s never gotten the chance to. The lines were always too long and the only time he was able to sign his name (which was when he was of age at fourteen), his name wasn’t called. He sighed to himself, hoping that at least someone gets to fulfill the role he wishes he had.

“Well? Why are you standing there?” Theo asked, raising a brow at Mallory. “Come on, we can cut the line, you know.”

“Wh. . . no, that isn’t truthful nor fair.” Mallory shook his head.

“Stop being soo good for once and come on.” Theo rolled her eyes before grabbing Mallory’s wrist and dragging him through people.

For every person Theo made them bump into was a sorry that came out of Mallory’s mouth. He didn’t know how to feel, he was cutting the line of people just like him who wanted to be the sacrifice, but he also didn’t know how to fight against Theo. The two have been friends for years, born together and raised together. 

Though, they were also experimented on, if someone could say that. All that happened is that Mallory was raised more female like while Theo was raised more masculine like, hence the names. Mallory doesn’t even remember being feminized except for when he was told he was actually a male. Even so, it’s what he knew so it’s what he was. Even though they tried to masculize him, he was always a little bit feminine. In his treehouse, one of the boxes had dresses and feminine clothing in it. He just genuinely enjoyed it, even if it was wrong. It was their fault he was like this, not his.

Once the two got up to the front, they sneakily waited for the person writing their name to finish. Then, Mallory and Theo went up. Theo smirked smugly as she heard the people behind them either sound angry or confused, while Mallory just wanted to do this quickly.

Writing his name was the easy part, however little did he know, he accidentally put his name into the woman’s pail. Maybe it was because he saw Theo put her name into the one that he just assumed that the one nearest to him was the male one.

Theo then grabbed Mallory’s hand and dragged her away while giggling to herself. “Aw, finally. You should have seen the faces of everyone. They were properly pissed! Heh. . .” she giggled again.

“I did see their faces, I was there with you.” Mallory mumbled.

“Whatever, come on, we should take a seat.” she hummed happily, letting go of his hand and running off. He sighed before reluctantly running after her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“This year's female and male sacrifices are. . .” The Priestess called out, putting both of her hands into each pail. Luckily, Theo was able to get the perfect seats for them, not too far from the stage yet not too close where it would be loud and they would have the best view of The Priestess.

She pulled one paper out from the male pail and another from the female one.

“Our sacrifices are. . .”

Mallory looked over to Theo who looked oddly sure of herself. Meanwhile, Mallory was starting to panic. Maybe he didn’t want to die, at least not now. He still wanted to do things. He still wanted to live in his treehouse. He. . . he still wanted to—

“Mallory Rosary and Theo Greenston!”

[draganwhorror]

Note: It's here! The first chapter of my prequel to my angsty Wes fic, Moonflower (which is only a short story). This story is going to be about Wes's second chance with Dawn and the buildup of their relationship--from dating to marriage to parenthood. It'll all lead up to the events that trigger his grief in Moonflower.

I know Wes doesn't really get a lot of love, but he's honestly my favorite Ted character ever (even moreso than Travis, who is at least top 5, but closer to 5 than 1). Writing about him makes me happy, so I do hope you guys will maybe consider showing this fic (and Moonflower) some love. I would honestly, truly appreciate it more than you can even imagine. ❤️

Second Chances

Chapter One

It was the worst day of Wes's life. Well, no. That was a lie. It was the anniversary of the worst day of Wes's life. It had been a year now since he'd given up everything. Since he'd un-wished his wish and lost the woman he'd loved from afar for so long.

Hope had been the only woman he'd wanted, but she hadn't even known he'd existed. Until he'd made that wish. Unfortunately, that wish had officially ruined Wes's life. He'd had a good month with Hope, and he'd never felt more loved. Now, though... Now, he was alone. Heartbroken. And maybe even a little ashamed of his actions. He'd known wishing for Hope to love him more than anything wasn't the right way to go about things, but he'd just wanted to be with her so badly. Sometimes people did stupid things when they were in love.

Wes sighed as he stood in front of the hostess podium at the front of Lucky Chin's. The restaurant was, surprisingly, still thriving, but the wishing well had been removed. Even though it no longer worked, now that the coin had been destroyed, the owner had decided not to take any chances and had gotten rid of the well.

The hostess returned after a moment and glanced at Wes. "Just one?" she asked, and he nodded, feeling a pang in his chest. "Follow me, please."

Wes trailed along behind the woman, wondering why he was even at Lucky Chin's. It only held memories of a time he'd rather forget. A time of happiness, at least for him. Hope had moved on...and then moved away, and Wes knew it had been because of him that she'd left to start over somewhere else.

The hostess brought Wes to a table tucked in the corner of the restaurant, and he sat down, feeling a little awkward that he was all alone. Glancing around, he noticed the other tables either had couples or families sitting at them. One even had a group of friends laughing and joking around. Seeing everyone else around him looking happy or in love only served to make him feel even more dejected. What a sad sack he was.

A waitress came by and set a glass of water in front of Wes. He glanced up and thanked her, then asked for a ginger tea and some steamed dumplings. He knew he should probably order something else, because the last time he'd been here, with Hope, they'd shared some dumplings (and some kisses) over the table. God, he missed being kissed.

Wes sipped his water, quietly observing the other tables. No one seemed to pay him any attention, and his mind immediately supplied him with, Well, no one will ever notice you, because you're a loser.

A disappointed frown marred his lips as he stared down at his water glass, wondering if maybe he should move away from this godforsaken small town too. Start over somewhere else. But what good would that do? Wes was already in his early 40s. He had glasses. He liked his khakis and button-ups. He collected coins. And he still held a small bit of Hope in his heart, even though he knew he shouldn't. What woman in her right mind would want him? Can't forget being unemployed...loser.

"Everything okay, handsome?"

A female voice startled Wes out of his self-loathing. He glanced up, expecting to see the waitress with his food, but instead he saw a woman with brown hair and brown eyes standing before him. She wore glasses, and she had an almost-shy smile on her face. He stared at her for a moment, her words finally registering in his brain.

"Uh... are you talking to me?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. There was no way this woman had come up to a stranger and called him handsome. Especially not someone like Wes.

"'Course I am," she responded, her smile widening and lighting up her whole face. "Who else would I be talking to?"

Wes chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, uh...I don't know."

"Can I join you?" the woman asked, an oddly hopeful expression on her face. "You can say no if you want, but...you look like you could use a friend."

Wes hesitated, unsure. Why was this woman talking to him? Why was she asking to join him? What did she want with him? Was this some sort of prank?

"I, uh..."

The woman put her hands up in surrender, cutting Wes off. "I get it. It's a bit strange for someone you don't know to ask if they can join you at dinner. I'll leave you be. Sorry 'bout that."

Wes stared at her as she turned away from him. There was something oddly comforting about this woman, and even though he worried he was going to regret this, he called out, "Wait! I... You can join me."

The woman turned back around and beamed at him, and Wes felt his heart stutter in his chest. His body felt as though it had been struck by lightning. He'd never felt anything like this before, not even with Hope. Was this what real love felt like?

Don't be stupid, he scolded himself. There's no such thing as love at first sight. Soulmates don't exist, and this woman is probably crazy and will just end up hurting you too.

Wes felt a little anxious as the woman settled into the chair across from him. He was suddenly reminded of his last date here with Hope, before everything had gone to shit. They'd laughed and shared a plate of dumplings, her feeding him with her chopsticks. He'd felt awkward at the time, having his fiancée feeding him in public, but he'd gone along with it because it had made Hope happy. All Wes had wanted to do was make Hope as happy as she made him...

"So, what's your name, handsome?" the woman asked, pulling Wes back to the present. "My name's Dawn. I'm new in town. Just moved in a week ago."

Wes's mouth opened and closed as he tried to form words. Dawn waited patiently for him to respond, a small smile playing across her lips. Wes had a sudden urge to kiss her, but he knew he was being stupid. That desire was probably just another leftover urge from thinking about Hope.

"Oh, um, Wes. My name's Wes," he finally said, his cheeks a light shade of pink.

Dawn grinned and reached out, taking his hand and giving it a quick shake. "Nice to meet you, Wes. Did you already order something to eat? Can I share with you?"

Wes could only stare, his mind trying to keep up with this bold, beautiful woman in front of him. She was nothing like Hope. She wasn't as pretty, but there was something about her that he felt drawn to. She wasn't obsessed with him, either, but he knew that was because she had her own free will...and she was using it to spend time with him.

"You're new in town?" he blurted out, and Dawn nodded at him.

"Yep. Spent the last week getting settled, unpacking, you know... all that fun stuff," she told him with a laugh. "Thought I'd explore the town a little. Found myself here. Saw you sitting alone. Thought I'd come say hi. It's not every day a lucky lady gets to sit here with the most gorgeous man in town."

She winked at him, and Wes blushed, unsure of what was happening. Had he died? Was he dreaming? Why was this woman being so nice to him? Why did she think he was handsome? Was she blind?

"You can tell me if I'm bothering you, y'know," Dawn said after a moment of silence. "I know I can be a bit...annoying sometimes." She let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "I just want to befriend people, but I guess I can be a little off-putting."

Wes felt his heart swell with empathy. This woman seemingly had similar thoughts. He knew right then that he wanted to give her a chance. To be her friend. She was right—he could use a friend right about now.

Taking her hand in his, Wes gave it a gentle squeeze. "You're not bothering me," he admitted shyly. "I've never had anyone just...come up to me and want to be my friend. I've never...had a woman call me handsome before, either."

He blushed again, hoping he wasn't coming across as a giant loser. "No one ever really pays me much attention."

Dawn squeezed his hand in return, another bright smile on her face. "Well, you have me now," she said happily. "I think you're a cutie, and I'd love to be your friend...or more."

She winked at him, but before Wes could say anything else, the waitress reappeared with his tea and the plate of dumplings. His stomach rumbled as the scent hit his nose. He let go of Dawn's hand and picked up his chopsticks, trying to decide which dumpling he wanted first, even though they all looked the same.

Another pair of chopsticks came into his line of sight and picked up a dumpling before he had a chance to react. Dawn giggled, holding it out to him, and another sudden pang washed over him as he tried to tamp down that memory of Hope doing the same thing.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Wes leaned forward and took a bite of the dumpling, the mischievous look in Dawn's eyes making him nervous again. Was she up to something more sinister after all? Don't be stupid, Wes!

He chewed carefully on the bite he'd taken, watching as Dawn smirked at him and popped the other half of the dumpling into her mouth. Wes's mouth felt dry all of a sudden. This woman... She was quite...unexpected.

He took a sip of his ginger tea as Dawn received her own glass of water, and he watched her as she took a drink, the desire to kiss her almost overwhelming him. He knew he needed to control himself. He couldn't risk another heartbreak. He couldn't risk rushing things with someone he barely knew.

"So, handsome, what do you do here in town?" Dawn asked, picking up another dumpling. "Anything fun?"

Wes looked down, embarrassed. "Oh, um, I'm...between jobs right now. But I do...collect coins."

"Coins, huh? That's neat."

Wes watched Dawn nibbling at another dumpling, finding her interesting even though he didn't want to. He didn't want to risk his heart again.

"I'm the new town librarian," she told him. "Guess that shouldn't be surprising." She laughed, pointing to her glasses. "How stereotypical. I just need a pencil in my hair or tucked behind my ear, eh?"

Wes nodded, imagining himself tucked away in the stacks with her, his mouth on hers, the scent of books surrounding them...

"Maybe you could show me your collection sometime," Dawn suggested, taking another sip of water. "I'd like to see it."

Pleasantly surprised, Wes nodded again. "Sure. I'd be happy to show you...sometime."

Dawn beamed at him and finished her water. She rummaged in her pocket for a moment, then slid a $20 bill across the table. Wes looked at it, then glanced back up at her. She winked at him and said, "It's on me."

Wes started to protest, but Dawn was already pushing herself up from the table. "I'll see you around, cutie. You know where to find me whenever you're ready to show me those coins."

With one last wink and a wave, Dawn made her way out of Lucky Chin's, leaving Wes sitting there feeling confused, intrigued, and strangely aroused.

What a strange woman, he thought to himself as he finished off the dumplings and his tea.

He paid the bill, left a tip, and wandered out of the restaurant, a sudden spark of hope igniting in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, he'd finally get a second chance at love...

[leafanight]

Dare I Come Closer

{A Snake x Reader one shot}

Tell me, why can't I look away from you?

You had heard of Noah's ark Circus from your friends. They said it was the best circus to ever exist. You had wanted to go to a circus ever since you were a kid, but your parents never got to take you.It didn't bother you too much since you could just go now. 

When you arrived at the entrance all you saw was a ginormous tent decorated with lights and performers doing neat tricks. You laughed as a clown had tried to pull out a flower from the ground. He tried so hard he fell back into another clown and they started a fight. You've barely been here for five minutes and you're already loving this circus. You continue to look around seeing the many sights. 

As it came time to see the show you made your way inside the tent to see the arena full of people. You hoped to still get a good seat. Walking up the stairs you spotted an open seat almost to the front. Sitting down you looked around wondering what the show would start. 

As the time went on you started to hear some music play in the  arena. It got louder and louder and soon a man had dropped down from the ceiling with confetting and small fireworks surrounding him. He landed on a ball located in the middle of the arena and the lights followed him shining him in the spotlight. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am your ringmaster Joker and I welcome you to the Noah's Ark Circus. " As the man spoke the arena was being filled with animals of all sorts walking and clowns dancing around them. 

You gleefully clapped seeing the show started with a real bang. Joker then announced “Come baask in the marvels our circus has to offer! First we will show you the amazon trapeze duo that will defy all laws of gravity. Peter and wendy!!!” As he said that two small children flew from the ceiling and swung from one rope to another. Peter had let go falling to the ground but Wendy had effortlessly caught him tossing him to another trapeze. They looked so incredible swinging around like they could fly!! Joker spoke again “Or perhaps you like to see our wild animal tamer who can tame any creator to her will! Beast!!” A  lion hop onto a podium and heard the crack of a whip. Blushing you saw a well endowed woman in scandalous clothing, whipping her whip. Making the lion stand on its hind feat. 

You thought how could anyone control such a beast or at the very least be so brave to interact with them? The crowd was cheering and watching as the Joker introduced more acts. But once the lights turned green and showed  down to the side of the arena, Joker introduced next “Perhaps you like to see the intoxicating dance of our snake charmer, SNAKE!” 

You saw a shirtless man with white hair covered in a plethora of snakes. He danced so beautifully and with each movement he moved with the snakes as if they were one.

 You were truly mezmorized and to be honest you thought the man was very cute. You learned as close as you could to get a better look but the lights turned to a different set of colors and moved away from the snake. You felt disappointed wishing you could see him more. 

As the night went on you saw so many amazing things. Fire breathers and a man even lifting 10 barrels that looked as if they weigh 100 tons. You even got to see more of Snakes’s act and he looked so cool almost enchanting you like one of his snakes.  You were enjoying the show so much that you hadn't noticed it was already ending. 

Joker walked to the center of the arena and bowed “My deer guest awhile I am sad to say the show must come to an end. I am glad you have come to our circus. May you come again and indulge in more of our wonders.” He was suddenly surrounded by a cloud of smoke disappearing. You stood tall clapping along with the crowed as they cheered.

Once most of the crowd left you made your way out trying to remember everything you had watched. While you were so lost in your thoughts you had gotten lost. Trying to make sense of your surroundings, you just got lost. Walking forward you saw a group of tents. They looked fairly big and quite homely. You thought that this must be the performers' tents. Maybe they could help you find the way out. 

You made your way to the rope separating the tents but heard a hissing sound. Odd what could be making that sound. You turned around to meet face to face with a snake. You screamed falling to the ground and the snake slithering closer to you. You remained frozen seeing that the snake suddenly stopped right in front of you. “What are you doing here? Says Emily.” You heard a man's voice and saw that it was the snake man from the show. You stood back up patting your legs . “I'm sorry I didn't mean to be a nuisance. I got lost trying to find the way. I was hoping someone could help me.” 

The man looked you up and down and replied “That seems oddly suspicious. Says Oscar " “or perhaps they just need help? Says Wild.” Snake looks back to you and waits as if he's deciding says Webster” He looks to his snakes and seems to be deciding what to do. You merely stare back at him seeing up close he really is quite handsome. You continued to look but Snake turned away and said “Why are you staring at Snake? Do you not have any manners? Says Webster” 

You  shook your head and apologized “Oh no! I'm sorry for staring. I didn't mean any harm, I just couldnt help but be enamored with you and your snakes. I think you are amazing to be so close to them. In fact I dear say your snakes are all beautiful and amazing in their own right.” Snake seemed shocked but just blinked and responded. “Oh why thank you! you might just be a snake charmer as well. Says Emily” You were confused as to why he kept speaking as if someone else was speaking. Perhap he spoke for or through the snakes? Snake just turned around and started to walk off.

 “Come this way, I will show you the way. Says Bronte” Quickly following you walk beside the Snake side. ”So Emily or was it Oscar, Which snakes would you be?” You asked to keep up the conversation. Snake looked at you curiously “I'm emily. SaysEmily and I’m Oscar. Says oscar.” Both his snakes had understood you well and even slithered up to your face to show you who they were. 

You were so amazed that Snake trained them so well they could understand humans. Did that mean he could really understand snakes!! “My what an amazing talent Snake, do you truly understand these snakes? That is truly a wonderful talent.” the Snake turned his face from you but you could see some scales beginning to show up more prominently on his cheek. You thought it was cute. 

“Snake has always been able to understand us; it isn't quite a talent more natural to him. Says Goethe.” You smiled at Goethe. “I still think it's a nice talent.” You contend to talk to Snake’s individual snakes as best you could trying to remember all their names. When you two were stopped by a man with blond hair and holding daggers. 

Oh the knife thrower you remembered . When he saw you two together he grinded madly saying. ”Snake who might this be? You seem chummy with em.” Snake seemed a bit upset at the man's comment. Are they friends?

 “She's a new friend.Shes really kind to us and even makes Snake feel rather more shy than normal. SayS Wilde.“ Snake looked embarrassed, turning to Wild, giving him a stern look. You giggled and the knife thrower just gained even more.

 “We're showing her the way out, she got lost, an idiot I say they are. Says Brionte” Snake told the man but the man seemed to have his attention on you. He grabbed your hand and kissed it bowing “Well a friend of snake iser  friend of mine. Do come back to our circus. My name is Dagger.” You were flattered but took your hand back out of embarrassment “Why thank you Dagger. I was so happy to see the show. Snake’s performance was my favorite of them all!” 

Dagger lchuckled and teasinly poked snakes cheelk ”Was it now. Perhaps you're a fan of our dear old chap “ You nodded your head “I sure am.” You noticed Snake had a faint blush on his cheek and that made one of his snakes snap at Dgger. Dagger pulled away fearfully, then he returned his attention onto you. “Well do come back and I'm sure Snake would be happy to show yer self around the circus.” You smiled and agreed “Yes I would love that. Would you mind if you show me around next time?” 

Snake looked at you for a brief second replying “Yes he'd love to do so. Says Emily” You lightly padded emily's head “Thank you Emily I look forward to it.'' Emily hissed in response and Snake seemed to blush more but did not repeat what Emily said. Dagger had pushed Snake towards you and hurried you two off “Off you go it is getting late. Snake do take care of them." Before Snake could react, Dagger had run off and shouted out the other troupe members' names. 

You loved how nice the people seemed here. Continuing on your way, both of you and Snake remained in silence with one of his snakes saying something random now and then. 

Once you finally made it back to the entrance you felt a little sad having to say goodbye. 

You turned to wave goodbye to Snake but Snake held your shoulder. “Before you go, what is your name? Says Oscar” You tell him “My name is (y/n), (y/n) (l/n).” Snake nodded his head and bowed to you “I shall remember that.” Did he just talk for himself? Snake just walked off leaving you to yourself. You smiled as you watched him go and continued on your way. You must come to the circus again soon.

Bonus: 

“Can you believe it, I think Snake might have a suiter!” Dagger yelled out to the other troop members. Everyone laughed and continued to tease Snake. Snake tried to hide within his snakes but the troop continued on. “Come now my dear friend, there's no need to be shy. I'm sure they make a lovely friend and if it leads to something more, a lovelyer partner.” Everyone continued to laugh but Snake just ignored them thinking of you.

You were different, the good kind of different. He hopes you come to see him again

////>>>/////>>>/////>>>>////>>>>////>>>>/////>>>>////>>>>/////>>>///>>////////

haaaayyyy so I was rewatching Black Butler and I was hit with embarrassment on Book of Circus. I used to love Snake he was one of my top husbandos. I still love him so much so I had to rwrite a little something for him. (I may draw him too) I don't know what it is about snake boys in anime but I always fall for them.

awww just look at him! so cute!

[inspotlight]

❝     not     a     big     deal.     it     was     years     ago.     i     don't     know     why     i     still     let     it     hurt     me.     ❞     she     says,     trying     her     best     to     seem     like     it     was     no     big     deal     to     her.     it     still     hurt,     though,     like     she'd     said.     it     hurt     to     want     him     so     bad     and     feel     like     nothing     was     ever     going     to     be     right     in     the     world     while     they     weren't     together.     but,     then,     she'd     also     feel     like     nothing     would     be     right     if     they     were     together.     like     she'd     missed     her     window     to     be     with     him,     and     she'd     have     to     love     him     in     secret     for     the     rest     of     her     life.     that     almost     hurt     more.     ❝     sadie...     blonde,     singles     skater,     said     she     went     down     on     you     at     a     party     the     night     we     all     got     back.     i     didn't     even     know     there     was     a     party...     i     would     have     gone     with     you     if     you'd     wanted     to     go...     after     the     olympics,     i     thought     that     was     kinda     where     we     were     headed...     more     dates,     actually     calling     them     dates...     ❞     she     sighs,     shaking     her     head.     she     wishes     she     could     erase     all     the     thoughts     in     her     head     and     get     rid     of     all     the     sadness.     she     isn't     sure     what     she     thought     his     excuse     for     not     calling     and     hooking     up     with     someone     else     was     going     to     be     if     she     ever     actually     told     him     why     she     was     so     upset,     but     that     wasn't     what     she'd     thought     he     was     going     to     say.     never     mind     the     fact     that     he     apparently     hadn't     hooked     up     with     sadie     at     all,     she     hadn't     known     that     that     was     when     his     mom     had     decided     to     leave.     

❝     oh...     god.     ricky,     i'm     so     sorry...     i     didn't     know...     ❞     she     had     known,     of     course,     that     his     mom     had     moved     to     chicago     and     his     parents     had     gotten     a     divorce,     but     she     couldn't     believe     how     cruel     his     mom     could     be     to     leave     while     her     only     child     was     making     history     at     the     olympics.     she     had     always     been     mad     that     lynne     wasn't     at     the     games,     but     this     made     it     so     much     worse.     she     relaxes     into     his     embrace,     her     arms     going     around     his     waist     as     they     cry     together.     it     doesn't     feel     great,     finally     letting     out     all     these     pent     up     emotions.     she     couldn't     believe     she     was     telling     him     all     of     this.     ❝     all     i     wanted     after     that     night     at     podium     was     to     get     home     and     finally     hear     you     ask     me     to     be     your     girlfriend     and     then     i     couldn't     even     look     at     that     picture     of     us     when     you     gave     me     sprinkles     because     i     kept     picturing     you     with     sadie...     and     it     didn't     even     happen...     god,     i'm     so     stupid...     i     don't     know     why     i'd     even     believe     her.     i     don't     know     why     she'd     make     up     lies     about     someone     in     the     same     fucking     skating     club,     but     hell,     maybe     she     didn't     even     realize     we     all     skated     together.     i     don't     know...     i     just     know     i've     wanted     to     hate     you     for     three     years,     and     as     good     as     i     was     about     acting     like     i     did,     i     never     have     been     able     to...     ❞     her     hold     on     him     tightens     as     he     tells     her     he     still     loves     her,     and     she     feels     like     she     can't     breathe.     she's     felt     the     same     way     for     so     long.     ❝     i'm     not     going     to     say     i     love     you     now,     but     back     then?     yeah...     god.     it's     never     gone     away,     either.     ❞     and     maybe     that's     enough     of     a     confession     of     love     for     now.     that     she     did     love     him,     and     she     never     stopped.     she     only     ever     wanted     to     be     with     him.     she'd     dreamt     about     it.

    ❝    i never wanted to hurt you... i am sorry i never realized...    ❞    how she can say those words like it's a casual thing almost makes it sting all the more. she just shrugs her shoulders. her accusation doesn't even feel like an accusation so much as her stating a fact, but the first thing out of his mouth is-    ❝    who?    ❞    he needs to remind himself to focus, ricky it doesn't matter... even if it takes a few moments for him to figure out who she's talking about. who they know by that name.    ❝    nini- i don't know what anyone told you, but i didn't leave my house that night. i definitely didn't hook up with... sadie- or anyone else.    ❞    he takes a deep breath, his body practically shaking in anticipation of the next words.    ❝    i was crushed when i got home from pyeongchang...    ❞    another breath.    ❝    it's my fault for not telling you this... but- nini... my mom left when we were at the olympics at sixteen. like.... left- took her stuff and left a fucking note for my dad and didn't tell us she was going...    ❞    he'd been destroyed... hadn't known what to do or how to handle it...

right now, with his arms around nini, now he's actually crying too. he can't help it with the words that are now out of his head, out of his mouth.    ❝    i didn't talk to people about it... jenn knows, knew... but... i was going to talk to you, but... evidently i was too late by the time i called you... fucking... sadie... or i don't know who'd tell you that... i don't know why she would say that...    ❞    he's shaking his head, the tears more or less falling into her hair as she buries her head into his shoulder as she cries into his shirt.    ❝    i would be yours... i would love if you were mine... i kinda felt like maybe... with time... we could have a chance... but i didn't know i had destroyed you like that... i would never have betrayed you that way, i swear...    ❞    a pause. he's trying not to ramble. trying not to make her feel sorry for him. or make her think he's just making excuses.    ❝    i know we weren't official or anything, trying to 'focus on skating', but... nini... what we had, it meant so, so much to me... i even loved you then... and i'm not sure if i'm allowed to say this, but... i do love you now.    ❞    

[edie-baby]

mr & mrs | liam lawson x reader

Summary: You and Liam were teammates at Hitech for 2021. You had the biggest crush on him, but you were sure he didn't see you as anything more than a little sister. But oh, how a few basic questions could uncover the truth between you.

Warnings: swearing, and I think that's it?

When you walked into work in the Hitech Grand Prix building this morning, you didn’t expect to be playing the fucking newlywed game with your crush. And if you’re being honest with yourself, crush is a light way to put it. You were head over heels for your F2 teammate and best friend, Liam Lawson. There was just something about the New Zealander that always had your heart racing, your legs buckling, and your stomach dropping.

So when you were directed into the garage for a ‘different background’ from other videos you had done with Liam, your stomach lurched. Here this gorgeous man was, in all his Kiwi glory, hair waxed back but falling out of place, jeans hugging the toned curves of his legs and ass and giving you a glorious view of his bulge, and the fucking blue sweater. The same blue sweater he had worn the last time the two of you did a video that had reduced you to a stuttering mess when you first saw him.

But now it is worse. So, so much worse. He was standing in a garage. Around cars, and tyres, and grease, and all of the inanimate objects you found so sinfully appealing, and he was just right in the middle of it looking like that. You just about turned around and walked right back out.

“Mighty Mouse! There you are. I was starting to think I’d have to be the brains and beauty of the operation.” Liam called once he spotted you, and suddenly you remembered why you had never tried making a move on him. He treated you like a little sister. Nicknames like ‘kiddo’ and ‘mighty mouse’ were a regular occurrence, and they never failed to make you squirm.

“Well, you struggle to be anything but the brawn, and I think I’m even starting to overtake you there.” You teased, pushing yourself to stay casual, platonic, familial. There was so much opportunity to flirt with him, but the few times you had tried were brushed off, so you had given up many moons ago.

“Ouch Princess, that hurts.” Liam mocked, his hand cradling his chest and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would be to fall asleep against his chest, curled up after a rough night of-

“Who’re you calling princess, princess?” You shot back, cutting your thoughts off before they continued developing and became an issue. Liam laughed, his arm slung around your shoulder while the two of you walked over to the team that were in charge of running your activity for the afternoon.

“Ok, I don’t know if you guys have heard of it, but this game is called Mr and Mrs, one of you will have a whiteboard and wear headphones while the other tries to guess what the answers to the questions you’re writing down are. Make sense? Ok, great, let’s do an intro and go from there.” One of the guys explained quickly, and you began having flashbacks to an awful 80s game show called The Newlywed Game, and blushed profusely. Having you and Liam in a video titled ‘Mr & Mrs’ was sure to get the fans going, and you couldn’t blame Hitech’s PR plan.

You and Liam settled into the wheely chairs from the office next door, Liam positioning himself in frame of the camera and fixing his stupidly perfect hair when you came barreling toward him with your chair, legs tucked up high so you didn’t cop a chair arm to the knee. Liam screeched when you finally hit him, almost toppling off the chair in surprise while you spun slowly, laughing freely as you did so.

Liam looked over at you, your head thrown back in carefree laughter, the yellow sundress that covered your body made you look radiant, and he was sure he had never seen a sight so beautiful before. Your laughter calmed down, and as you looked over at him, he couldn’t help but send you a lovestruck smile, his eyes dopey with admiration. You blushed slightly, laughing as the team asked if you could do the intro again, but actually introduce what you were doing.

Liam slid out of the frame, and you followed his movements as you could tell a fierce battle was about to commence. Kicking off the ground with force, you tucked your legs up onto the chair again, spinning into Liam so fast, you couldn’t actually see his face before you crashed into him. The two of you exploded in laughter again, laughter and smiles were common between you, and Hitech’s Instagram was full of photos and videos of you and Liam smiling at each other, or doubled over in laughter, clutching onto each other.

“Hi, I’m Liam Lawson, and this is Y/N, we drive for Hitech in Formula 2.” Liam began once you had slowed down your laughter. He kept a firm grip on the arm of your chair, holding you close and still, as your chair really liked spinning around.

“And we’re here to play Mr & Mrs, another game in our long series championship to see who the better teammate is.” You finished, gesturing to yourself subtly, but Liam caught it and pushed your chair away jokingly. As much as you loved the man and wished you could be more, you wouldn’t give up this relationship you have with him for something that might work.

MR & MRS | EDIE-BABY

“Liam, what is Y/N’s favourite colour?” The same guy from before asked, one who Liam still didn’t recognise due to the facemask and hat he was wearing. Nevertheless, he held up a whiteboard where the question was scribbled in messy writing, three multiple choice answers written waiting for not only Liam’s, but also your answer. You had airpods in your ears, connected to the blaring music playing from one of the Hitech employees’ laptops, a whiteboard in your hand that you quickly scribbled out an answer to.

Liam looked over at you, holding the whiteboard to your chest protectively so he wouldn’t cheat, but there was really no way that he could.

“It’s not an answer listed here, but her favourite colour is a light brown. She always says it calms her down because it reminds her of a cafe she went to once back home.” Liam spoke, watching you as he answered. You didn’t hear a word he was saying, bopping your head along to the 2000s hits pumping through the earphones. Liam pulled one of them out, his head nodding over to the camera while you proudly turned the board around, thinking you had gotten one over on Liam.

“My favourite colour is light brown, because it reminds me of the Brew Cafe in my hometown, and it brings a really nostalgic and calm feeling.” You stated, watching the faces of the employees morph from business to shock. You looked over at Liam, who had a smug smile on his face while he listened to your answer.

“There’s no way you could have known that!” You protested, glaring accusingly at the dirty blonde. He laughed in response, and you couldn’t have felt happier in any given moment. Not even the top step of the podium could compare to the warmth spreading in your chest. Little did you know, Liam was feeling the exact same way.

“Y/N earphones back in, Liam your next question. What is Y/N’s favourite song at the moment?” The same guy asked, yet this time there were no multiple choice answers. Liam’s eyes widened, turning to look at you to think of any songs he had heard blasting from your speakers or earphones recently, or something that you had ranted excitedly to him about. He spoke to himself, mumbling about artists and songs he could remember falling from your lips. You twirled a piece of hair around your finger, thinking about the answer to the question, when suddenly it hit him.

He had to wait a few moments as you were slowly writing down your answer, still not 100% sure of yourself. It was only after you had taken an earphone out that you jumped, furiously rubbing out the answer on the whiteboard and writing a new one, looking much more satisfied with the new answer. The team counted down, and as Liam spoke, you almost dropped the whiteboard.

“Feeling Something Bad by Ellise. She’ll start singing it randomly when she concentrates, which is usually a giveaway to what songs she's been listening to recently.” Liam said his answer so confidently that it made you feel as though you were inferior because he knew your favourite song and it took you a decent minute to think of it. Liam got another point as he had gotten two of your answers right, and you were starting to feel competitive.

“Alright Liam, who does Y/N get along with best in the F2 paddock? Oscar Piastri, Dan Ticktum, or you?”

“Oh, oh. Well, she hangs out with Oscar a lot, but I don’t know if she would say they get along better than we do? Like, she’s closer with Oscar but we get along best, if that makes sense? I don’t think it does. I’m gonna say Oscar because I don’t want to be rejected, but I really hope I’m wrong and that she says me.” Liam rambled, finally deciding on Oscar, and when you were told to turn your board around, Liam’s heart sank a little. You had written Oscar, and as you began trying to defend yourself, Liam waved it off and laughed to hide the disappointment in his eyes, but you could see it clear as day. You tried to move on like he did, to keep playing the game like you didn’t hurt her best friend and crush.

You began trying to cheer the Kiwi up, dancing along to the songs playing, and occasionally belting out the chorus. He was laughing along, finally joining you to sing when you were screaming the lyrics to Promiscuous, dancing all around the garage and trying to pull him up around with you. While you were dancing with some of the employees off camera, being recorded for Instagram, Liam was still in frame of the main camera, a fond smile on his face, and anyone who had looked at him could see that he was completely and utterly whipped for you, but you were too caught up in Nelly Furtado to see it yourself.

It was your turn to answer questions now, passing Liam the whiteboard that had a little love note written on it.

I’m going to crush you.

You wrote, and Liam thought it was adorable how competitive you got in trivial games like this, but it always made him try even harder just to give you some semblance of a battle.

“Y/N! How old was Liam when he started karting?” The guy you had begun to think was not an actual Hitech employee asked. The three ages to choose from scribbled on the whiteboard. You studied them for a moment, and could see Liam in the corner of your eye writing out his own answer.

“He was seven, because I remember him telling me that there’s regulations in New Zealand that you can’t race go-karts competitively until you’re seven and then won the race.” You explained, remembering the story he had told you easily, it was one of your favourites, purely because of the joy on Liam’s face when he recounted it.

He turned the board around, showing the exact answer you had given, and he gave you a cheeky smile in response to your silent gloating about getting a point. There was nothing cuter in his eyes than you getting so worked up about a game.

“What is Liam’s pre-race superstition?” Before the board with the question and possible answers came up, your mouth blurted out the answer you already knew all too well.

“He gets in the car from the left.” You practically yelled, and Liam looked at you with wide eyes, not hearing your words but seeing the excitement at knowing the answer.

“How did you know that?” One of the Hitech PR asked as her main priority was to stir up more rumours about the two of you, as it was always good for the team’s press.

“Because I’m just as superstitious about getting in from the right side, so when he found out, he asked the team if we could switch around how our cars are placed in the garage so that we could meet in the middle, do our little ritual, and then get in the car from there.” You explained, watching as Liam wrote down his answer with no idea of the words you were saying.

When Liam turned the board around, he explained the exact same story you had, and you giggled when he finished, showing off a proud smile before putting the pieces together that you had already run the same spiel.

“It’s quite cute that the two of you explain things using basically the same words.” That same PR lady stated. And you almost rolled your eyes, almost. But you caught Liam blushing slightly, and a small, stupid part of you began jumping up and down, because not only did someone think your relationship with Liam was cute, but he blushed at that.

“It happens when you spend so much time with someone. I’ve started picking up Kiwi slang, and he’s learning some of my slang. You don’t realise it until you say something to someone when he’s not there and they’ve got no idea what I mean. It’s so normal for Liam to always be by my side, and me by his that when I’m with other people it feels weird.” You started on a ramble, something you were known for. And then just would… not… fucking… stop. The press officer looked satisfied, but as you had finally gotten your mouth to stop moving, you were scared to look over at Liam.

“Whenever she’s not within arm’s reach, I feel like I’m missing something.” Liam spoke quietly, and you gulped as you heard his words. The man was going to kill you, surely. This little production crew didn’t give a shit about your blossoming romance though, as they hurried you through to the next questions. You and Liam barely looked at eachother, your answers shorter and much more vague than they were before. You just wanted to get out of this chair and go freak out in an empty office somewhere.

“Well, the winner of this round is Liam, which means he has officially overtaken Y/N in the Hitech championship. How do you guys feel about this one?” The producers asked. You would usually have felt a bit of a blow to your chest finding out you had been beaten in two ways, but you truly couldn’t think of anything except your proximity to Liam.

“I think we found out a lot, and I’m glad to finally be ahead in the championship. I think it’s the only time I’ll ever be able to beat Mighty Mouse in anything.” Liam chuckled, reverting back to your ‘little sister’ nickname because he felt like the distance would help him process his emotions.

“Hey, you already beat me in height, age, and supercar experience, you gotta let me have something.” You whined, you looked over at Liam with a pout and puppy eyes, unintentionally making his heart pound out of his chest.

“Well you’re the cuter one of the team, and you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me, so I’d say you’re winning enough. Plus you’re higher up in the drivers standings than me.” Liam replied, leaning closer to stare into your eyes, barely two inches between your faces, you blinked slowly, afraid that any sudden movements would scare him away.

His large hand reached up, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, then coming to rest at the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your jaw.

“I don’t think you realise what you do to me.” You mumbled, leaning forward very slightly to nudge your nose against Liam’s. His breath hitched, eyes boring into your soul in a way that made you freeze.

“It can’t be any worse than what you do to me. Looking as beautiful as you do, all I want to do is hold you, keep you close, show you off to the world, and I want to call you mine. I want to take you home and show you around my hometown, I want to introduce you to my parents, to take you to parties with my friends, I want to curl up in your apartment watching Harry Potter movies, and I want to dance around the kitchen with you at 2 in the morning making pancakes. I want to live my life with you.” Liam confessed, and for a few moments, you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

You lurched forward, balling your fists up in that stupid blue sweater and pulling him closer. Liam’s eyes closed instinctively as your lips met, the coconut lip balm you applied before you came into the office was shared on your tongues, Liam’s exploring your mouth with vigor. You had never imagined him to be this passionate, this intense. But you had no complaints, his hands tugging you forward until you fell onto his lap, legs slotting in beside his own to straddle him on the wheely chair.

You broke away for a moment to catch your breath, eyes surveying every square inch of Liam’s face to commit it to memory. He truly was a gorgeous man, and you hoped you would get to see him like this many more times to come. He caught the look in your eyes and dove back into your lips, his teeth capturing your bottom lip in a bruising grip, a whimper escaping your lips before someone clearing their throat interrupted you.

“I guess we have everything we need for the video. Thanks you two.”

[soyl4ndo]

Austria 2020 | Lando Norris

Part of the Sweet Dreams series

previous chapter: Confessions word count: 2.2k words warnings: slow burn, chaotic race, race stress, fluff english is not my first language

LOS ANGELES, AMERICA - JULY 5TH 2020 You sat down on the couch in the living room, you had opened the backyard doors, letting the summer breeze wake you up. It was pretty warm in the house but in general as well. You had woken up at three in the morning, so it was too early for you to put on the air conditioning. Yesterday you had watched qualifying with Harper and Sophia. It was different this time to last year, as now you were not only rooting for Max and Daniel anymore. This year you went from looking at two drivers on the timesheet to eight different drivers. All because they became your friends over the past few months. Sophia was already sitting on the couch, with the tv on when you came downstairs. You were preparing some snacks when Harper shambled into the living room. Although you were a night owl, even for you it was early. Sophia had put on the pre-race show, none of you were really paying attention to it until you heard about Hamilton receiving a three place grid penalty for not slowing down during yellow flags. This meant for Max and Lando that they would both move up one place and now had a podium position. You were always nervous for the start of every race, but this time you were even more nervous and the race hadn’t even started.

There was a nine hours difference between you and Austria. Now that Lando was back to racing, you would have thought that the amount of texting would decrease, him being tired by the end of the day because of all the hard work. You thought you would move along another, just not catching each other to have a real conversation. At least that is what happened with Pierre, no hard feelings but you were glad the texting had ended that way. You didn’t know how else to tell him you were not interested. By the time the race was about to start it had gotten lighter outside and you could see the sunrise. You knew from last year that in a few minutes the drivers would leave their phones behind and fully focus on their race. So you decide to wish them all good luck. You felt your own nervousness growing when the cars are doing their formation lap, it was a very warm day in Austria. “It’s lights out and away we go.” You hear Crofty say as the lights go out and the cars drive off, 71 laps to go.

You were biting your nails into the very first few corners, seeing how close Max and Lando were next to each other. You hated it when cars got too close to one another, but that was part of the whole race. Sometimes you wondered why you kept on watching if after every race, you felt like you went through multiple heart attacks. Bottas got away quite nicely, creating a gap of 2,5 seconds after the first lap. George on the other hand didn’t have a great start and dropped down two places, you hadn’t noticed it until Sophia pointed it out. The laps went by pretty quickly, with every lap passing by you could sense that something wasn’t right. On the 4th lap, Lando had dropped down to P5 and you were told that Carlos his pace had dropped down. You thought this was it, now the weird gut feeling would disappear, but you were wrong. On the 11th lap, you see Max driving slowly on the second straight. Cars passed him by without any problem, dropping down from 2nd all the way down to 20th. Max was trying to restart the car, but he kept on getting anti-stall. He eventually decides to come into the pits, hoping a change of steering wheel would solve the problem. Unfortunately, Max had to retire his car, after dealing with power issues. You knew Max wasn’t going to read your text immediately, but you had to text him with “Fuck”. You thought this was it, no more chaos from now on, but Daniel got stuck in third gear on the 18th lap also retiring from the race. Great you think, please let this be it but of course the universe had other plans. Four laps later Stroll had to retire his car and was Grosjean the first to pit after spinning and ending up in the gravel. If that wasn’t enough, four laps later Magnussen suffers from brake issues. Not being able to make the corner, Magnussen retires his car on the side of the track, bringing out a yellow flag. “safety car deployed,” You hear Crofty say, and lots of drivers drive into the pits. The stress and fear kept building up when you see Perez having an unsafe release and almost crashing into Lando, your heart dropped down to your stomach. Already seeing how this would end the wrong way, but luckily nothing bad happened.

It was the 30th lap and the safety car would end this lap, just as with the start you hold your breath. You see Vettel trying to take the inside on Carlos, just as he is about to turn into the corner. Carlos touched Vettel, which caused him to spin around. 20 laps long there was nothing going on, finally some time to catch your breath. You could feel your blood pressure dropping down. When you see another Haas suffering from brake issues, just like that Grosjean is out of the race. George was having a consistent race at the back of the grid, but even he was having issues, having to retire the car on the side of the track bringing out another safety car. The safety car drives into the pit lane after a few lap, that is when you see a tyre flying across the screen. You look on the timesheet and see that is Raikkonen, losing his tyre in the last corner coming to a stand still on the main straight, another safety car.

Yellow flag after yellow flag, safety car after safety car, hoping this was the last on the race resumes. It was the 61st lap, Alex was about to overtake Hamilton on the outside when Alex gets forced into the gravel, spinning around and dropping down to 13th position, Alex had a repeat of events from last year. Alex was now last on get grid, with everyone retiring from the race. You knew the FIA would investigate this and if that was not the case you would personally come and tell them what was going wrong in that specific moment. Not much later the official announcement of a five-second penalty for Hamilton show up on the tv. You immediately start doing your maths and come to the conclusion that Hamilton might end up behind Carlos, which would be in sixth place. Two laps later Perez also gets a five-second penalty, as he was speeding in the pit lane. Slowly a smile starts growing onto your face when you realize that all these penalties mean that Lando would move up to third place, as long as he kept himself within those five seconds. Shortly after the penalty announcement of Perez, Alex slows down on the grid, by this time you weren’t even surprised anymore. If all retirement weren’t enough already, Kvyat gets a tyre puncture, leaving just eleven drivers on the grid, fighting for some points. Due to all the chaos, you hadn’t realize it was the last lap, Lando was in fourth place just a bit over five seconds behind Hamilton. Your heart was beating like crazy, probably racing just as fast as those cars. Trying to retain your focus on the race you hear Crofty scream “Valterri Bottas is the winner of the Austrian Grand Prix.” There was so much going on that you couldn’t notice the gap between Lando and Hamilton. Lando hadn’t overtaken Hamilton, so if he wanted to be on that podium he needed to be within those five seconds. It is then that you hear Crofty cheer “and Lando Norris gets on the podium for the first time in Formula 1.” You jump up from the couch just like Harper and Sophia. Everyone in the McLaren garage was cheering and clapping just like you were. You see how Lando runs to Zak and jumps into his arms. Zak looks so happy and all you could think about is that soon you were going to be there as well. Lando’s celebratory radio is shown on the tv, hearing the beeps you knew he was cussing like crazy.

You are watching the podium and can’t stop smiling. Lando being his silly self and pouring the champagne over his head, making you laugh at his actions. After all the chaos that happen to be a race, you were happy it ended like this. It is then that you realize race weekends were going to be so much more fun and probably difficult. There was going to be many more chances that your favorite person was getting a podium, while your best fired had to retire from the race. As it was still early on in the day you decide to lay down for a few hours and catch up on some sleep, but before you do, you send Lando a text.

RED BULL RING, AUSTRIA “YOU ARE INSANE!! Congrats on that podium! I would love to have said it to your face, but you’re probably way too busy” From the moment he set foot out of that car he had a smile on his face, but your message to him made that smile even brighter. “Thank you, thank you. No worries about that, just call me when you wake up 😉“ Lando knew you would be asleep. When you woke up later than you had planned, you weren’t expecting a text back from Lando. It wasn’t all too late in Austria so Lando stayed online as he saw you were typing something back to him. “Well, I think you might be asleep by now, nap took a little longer than anticipated.” Without really thinking things through or sending you a heads up Lando decides to FaceTime you. As the call connects a smile appears on both your faces. “There he is, the podium sitter of today. Look at you, freaking getting a podium on the first race of the season.” You say and notice Lando was slightly blushing. “It was insane” “I bet, how are the eyes?” You noticed his eyes were still red. “Still burning and itching.” Lando takes a bit off his ice cream. “I see you’re celebrating by eating ice cream.” “Yes, you’re free to join.” He holds up his spoon filled with ice cream. You went downstairs to take a look in your freezer, to your luck there was still a small cup of ice cream. “It isn’t much, but is vanilla allowed to the party?” You show off the almost empty cup, Lando laughs “Vanilla is more than welcome.” It was the first time you were seeing each other over the phone, Lando realized and says “Sorry it you didn’t mean FaceTime, I just figured-“ You cut off Lando before he starts rambling like he always does when he is nervous. “It is fine, I like it actually. It’s good to see you after all those months.” “Indeed, although it doesn’t feel like months.” You smile at his words.

LOS ANGELES, AMERICA You don’t know what it was, but the way he just sat there was so cute to you. Still glowing from his little victory, enjoying ice cream like a little kid. You made yourself comfortable on the couch as well. Lando and you talked for a few more hours. It was, unfortunately, getting late in Austria and Lando was showing his tiredness, so you decide to end the call. “FaceTime you later this week?” Lando asked shyly. “Would love to.” You say your goodbyes, and sigh once you hit the red button to end the call. With a beaming smile on your face, you hear people storming down the stairs. You jumped up as you thought they were falling down the stairs, only to find them eavesdropping, waiting for the moment you’d hang up. “You sounded so sweet” Sophia says as she squeezes your face so you form a pout with your lips. “He must find you special if he wants to call you at such a late hour.” Harper wiggles her eyebrows, clearly teasing you as always. “I just wanted to congratulate him on his podium..” You innocently say and throw away your empty cup “..oh and we need more ice cream.” You walk out of the kitchen for the two girls to gush over you.

Next Chapter

[redrobin-detective]

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?��� Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”