spencerreidswifeeeeeee

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

puzzle pieces - gr63

summary: a new strategist who happens to be a single mom of a five-year-old girl joins the mercedes team for the 2025 season, and george fits in their world like puzzle pieces. wc: 13.3k + social media posts

folkie radio: MY FIRST GEORGE LONG FIC !!! im not that confident about it but i really hope you like it ! let me know all of you thoughts

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

📍Melbourne, Australia

You're huddled in the darkest corner of the Mercedes garage in Melbourne, your silver shirt dampened with tears as you try to muffle your sobs. The Australian Grand Prix weekend has barely begun, but your heart is 16,000 kilometers away in London, where your five-year-old daughter Amelia is fighting a nasty fever. Your mother had called an hour ago - Amelia's temperature wasn't going down, and she kept asking for you between fitful naps.

The garage is a flurry of activity, with mechanics and engineers rushing around to prepare for the first practice session of the 2025 season. You know you should be at your station, going through the setup parameters with Kimi, who you'd worked with during his F2 championship run at Prema last year. The transition from F2 to Mercedes F1 had been smooth, largely because Kimi had practically begged the team to bring you along when they signed him. But right now, you feel like the worst mother in the world for being so far away from your baby girl.

"Hey, are you alright?"

The soft, distinctly British voice makes you jump. You quickly wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, mortified to find George Russell, your other driver, standing there with concern etched across his features. At 27, he's the same age as you, but while you're a mess of tears and worry, he looks immaculate in his race suit, the top half tied around his waist.

"I'm so sorry," you stammer, trying to compose yourself. "I'm being completely unprofessional. I should be with Kimi, going through his-"

"No, no, don't apologize," George interrupts, crouching down beside you. His eyes are kind, and there's genuine worry in his voice. "Kimi mentioned you seemed upset. He's worried about you too, kept asking if anyone had seen where his 'Team Mom' disappeared to."

You manage a weak laugh at that. Kimi had started calling you that in F2, and the nickname had stuck. "I should go find him, he'll be nervous about his first F1 weekend-"

"He's fine," George assures you. "What's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?"

The kindness in his voice makes fresh tears well up in your eyes. "My daughter," you manage to say. "She's sick back home in London. She's only five, and I've never been away from her for so long, and now she has this fever that won't break, and I just-" Your voice cracks.

"I didn't know you had a little girl," George says softly. "What's her name?"

"Amelia," you reply, a small smile breaking through your tears at the thought of your daughter's bright brown eyes and untameable curls. "She was so excited when I got this job. She made me promise to bring home one of those tiny Mercedes model cars they give out during race weekends."

George smiles warmly. "I'm sure you have an amazing support system back home helping you out with her?"

You bite your lip, looking down at your hands. "It's just me and her, really. And well, my parents help when they can. I'm a single mum."

His expression shifts to one of deeper understanding. "Oh, I didn't know that. That must be really challenging, especially with a job like this."

"It is," you admit, wiping away another stray tear. "Most days I can handle it, you know? We have our routine, and Amelia's such a good girl. The team at Prema was amazing with her too, always making sure we could manage. But being so far away when she needs me..." You trail off, the lump in your throat growing bigger.

"Listen," George says, his voice gentle but firm. "Being a single parent in F1 is incredibly tough. I can't even imagine how you manage it all. But you're here, following your dreams, showing your daughter that anything is possible. That makes you an amazing mum."

You look at him, touched by his understanding. "It's just... I feel like I'm failing at both jobs right now. I should be focused on the race weekend, but all I can think about is Amelia."

"You're not failing at anything," he insists, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "And you know what? I bet Amelia is going to be so proud when she tells all her friends that her mum works for Mercedes F1. Speaking of which, we definitely need to get her one of those model cars. And maybe a signed cap too?"

You can't help but laugh through your remaining tears. "She'd love that. She's already telling everyone at school that she knows George Russell."

He grins, his eyes twinkling. "Well, now she actually does. Come on, let's get you some water, and you can tell me more about this little fan of mine. I've got some time before practice, and I'd love to hear about the girl who's apparently been spreading my fame in London playgrounds."

As you follow him toward the team's hospitality area, you feel a little lighter. Your worry about Amelia hasn't disappeared, but somehow, sharing it with someone who seems to genuinely care has made it a bit more bearable. Sometimes comfort comes from the most unexpected places, even from a Formula 1 driver in the corner of a garage in Melbourne.

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liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 987,487 others

f1 NEW ADDITION TO THE SILVER ARROWS!

Mercedes F1 Team welcomes YN as their newest Race Strategy Engineer for the 2025 season! The 27-year-old British engineer joins from Prema Racing, where she spent three years working on race strategy and simulation.

Fun facts about YN: First class honors in Mechanical Engineering from Imperial College London Started her motorsport journey as an intern at Sauber in 2020 She was key to Kimi Antonelli's championship last year (he even calls her "Team Mom") She's a mum to 5-year-old Amelia 👶 Youngest strategy engineer on the current Mercedes team

Welcome to the Silver Arrows family, YN! 💫

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username1 love seeing more women in F1! and a mum too, that's incredible!

username2 i already stan her so bad

mercedesmagf1 Welcome to the best team on the grid! 🏁

kimi.antonelli THATS MY TEAM MOM!

username3 impressive cv

username4 One of the minds behind Prema's brilliant season last year! Mercedes making smart moves for 2025

username5 Imperial College London grad 🤓 She's definitely got the brains for this!

username6 THIS DIVA

georgerussell63 Welcome to the team! 🌟

liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 54,098 others

yourinstagram First race weekend with @/mercedesamgf1 in the books! ✨

Still pinching myself that this is real. What an incredible start to the season: P3 for @/georgerussell63 and P4 for @/kimi.antonelli! Proud to be part of the team that made this result possible.

Special shoutout to everyone in the garage who made this rookie engineer feel so welcome (especially when I was having a bit of a mum meltdown missing my little one 🥺). The Silver Arrows family is real!

And to my little Amelia back home: Mummy's bringing back some very special presents from George and Kimi (aka Baby Driver) Thank you for being such a brave girl this weekend. You're the reason I push myself to achieve these dreams ❤️

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username1 AWE THIS IS SO CUTE

username2 her little girl must be adorable

georgerussell63 Couldn't have done it without you! See you in China (with presents for a certain little fan )

↳ username1 THE WAY HE SAID LITTLE FAN I'M CRYING

↳ username2 George is so sweet omg

mercedesamgf1 Silver Arrows family forever! 🌟

friend1 So proud of you! Amelia was screaming watching the podium 😂

username3 living the dream! you're such an inspiration!

username4 From one racing mum to another - you're crushing it! 💪🏼

username5 the way the entire F1 community is rooting for you

username6 I BET AMELIA CALLS KIMI BABY DRIVER AHH

kimi.antonelli love you team mom

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📍Shanghai, China

The Shanghai paddock is relatively quiet this early in the morning, and you've found a peaceful corner in the Mercedes hospitality area to have your breakfast while FaceTiming Amelia. She's excitedly showing you her school art project, a rather creative interpretation of a Mercedes F1 car, complete with glitter.

"And look, Mummy! I made George extra tall in the drawing!" she giggles, holding up her artwork where she's drawn a stick figure at least twice the size of the car.

You're in the middle of laughing when a familiar voice comes from behind you. "Did I hear someone say my name?"

Amelia's eyes go wide as George Russell himself appears in the frame, leaning over your shoulder with a warm smile, a coffee in hand.

"George!" Amelia squeals, pressing her face closer to the camera. "I drew you! You're really tall in my picture!"

George laughs, pulling up a chair beside you. "Well, I am quite tall in real life too! How are you feeling now, Amelia? All better?"

"Much better! I got a golden star at school yesterday for my maths!" She beams proudly. "And Sophie believes me now that my mummy knows you because I showed her my signed cap!"

"That's brilliant!" George responds enthusiastically. "You'll have to show me your maths skills sometime."

"Okay, sweetheart," you cut in, noticing the time. "You need to get ready for school now. Be good for Grandma, alright?"

"Okay, Mummy! Bye George! Good luck in the race!"

After you hang up, you can't help but smile at how Amelia has somehow managed to wrap one of Formula 1's top drivers around her little finger without even meeting him in person.

"You know," George says thoughtfully, taking a sip of his coffee, "why don't you bring her to one of the European races?"

You look up from your tea, surprised. "Oh, I... I hadn't really thought about it. I mean, I'd love to, but managing a five-year-old in the paddock while working..."

"Bring her to Silverstone," he suggests. "It's home race, your parents could come too. The team would love to meet her - she's practically our mascot now, the way Toto smiles whenever someone mentions 'George Russell's biggest fan.'"

You laugh, remembering how the team principal had been thoroughly amused by the story of Amelia's reaction to George's message. "She would absolutely lose her mind. She's been begging to see a real race."

"Then it's settled," George says with that characteristic Russell determination. "I'll talk to Toto about getting extra passes for your family. We can set her up in the garage with some headphones, show her the cars up close." He grins. "Plus, I need to see if she's as good at maths as she claims."

"George, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he interrupts gently. "You're part of the team now, and so is Amelia, in her own way. Besides," he adds with a playful smile, "I need to make sure my biggest fan gets the full Mercedes experience, don't I?"

You feel a warm glow in your chest, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, George. Really."

"Don't mention it," he says, standing up. "Now, how about you tell me more about this artwork where I'm apparently a giant? Should I be concerned about how I'm being portrayed to the next generation?"

As you describe Amelia's creative interpretation of the Mercedes team, complete with glitter and impossibly tall drivers, you find yourself looking forward to Silverstone more than ever. The thought of sharing your new world with your daughter, of seeing her eyes light up at the sight of the cars and meeting the team she's heard so much about... maybe George is right. Maybe it's time to bring your two worlds together.

"Oh, and YN?" George adds as he's about to head to the engineering briefing. "Tell Amelia to practice her maths. I'll be testing her when I see her."

You shake your head, laughing. Who would have thought that your daughter would end up with a Formula 1 driver as her personal maths tutor?

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📍Suzuka, Japan

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liked by username1, username2 and 10,985 others

f1updates Spotted: Mercedes driver George Russell grabbing coffee with the team's new strategy engineer YN outside the Suzuka paddock this morning. Could there be a new F1 couple on the horizon?

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username1 omg they look so cute together!! did you see how he's looking at her? 🥺

username2 okayy let's not be weird about this

username3 please chill out they're coworkers grabbing coffee

username4 she's the one who came from prema with kimi right? love seeing her settling in at mercedes!

username5 wait isn't she the single mom everyone was talking about during the melbourne weekend? when george was so sweet about her daughter being sick?

username6 kimi's team mom and george

username7 george russell 🤝 having excellent taste in both coffee and women

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The Bahrain paddock is eerily quiet at 1 AM, most of the team having retreated to their hotels hours ago. The gentle hum of your laptop and the occasional click of your mouse are the only sounds in the engineering room as you pore over tomorrow's race simulations for the hundredth time.

"You do know quali ended six hours ago, right?"

You jump slightly at George's voice. He's leaning against the doorframe, changed out of his race suit into casual wear, looking at you with concern.

"Just want to make sure we've covered all the scenarios for tomorrow," you mumble, stifling a yawn. "Your start position gives us a real chance at a win, I just need to-"

"YN," he interrupts softly, walking over to your desk. "It's 1 AM. The simulations will still be here in the morning."

You shake your head, forcing your tired eyes to focus on the screen. "I'm fine. I just need to run through these few more scenarios. Can't afford to miss anything."

George pulls up a chair, sitting beside you. "Can't afford to, or won't allow yourself to?"

Something in his gentle tone makes your carefully constructed walls crack a little. You sit back in your chair, running a hand over your face.

"I just... I need to prove I deserve this position," you say quietly. "I need this job, George. It's not just about the racing anymore. I have to put food on Amelia's table, pay for her school, her clothes, her future." Your voice catches slightly. "I'm all she has."

"What about her father?" George asks carefully, then immediately adds, "Sorry, that's none of my business-"

"No, it's okay," you say, surprising yourself. Maybe it's the late hour, or maybe it's just George's caring presence, but you find yourself wanting to talk. "He left when I told him I was pregnant. Said he wasn't ready to be a father, that it would ruin his career plans." You let out a bitter laugh.

George's expression darkens. "What a-" he catches himself, but you can guess the word he's thinking of.

"Yeah," you agree. "Anyway, he signed away his rights before she was born. Hasn't seen her once in five years. Doesn't pay any support." You fidget with your pen. "So it's just me. Every promotion, every extra hour, every bit of overtime, it all goes to giving her the life she deserves."

"YN," George says softly, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "You're already giving her an amazing life. You're showing her what strength looks like, what dedication looks like. But you can't pour from an empty cup."

Tears prick at your eyes. "I'm just so scared of failing her," you whisper. "Every time I see a bill, or she needs new shoes, or I think about university fees in the future... I can't mess this up, George. I can't let her down."

"Hey, look at me," he says firmly. "You're one of the best engineers I've worked with. Toto wouldn't have hired you if he didn't see that. The team trusts you, I trust you. But working yourself to exhaustion isn't going to help anyone - especially not Amelia."

You wipe away a stray tear. "I just want her to be proud of me."

"She already is," George says with certainty. "I've seen how she talks about you, her mummy who makes the silver cars go fast. But I bet she'd be even prouder knowing her mum takes care of herself too."

You manage a weak laugh. "When did you get so wise?"

"Must be all those post-race press conferences," he grins, then stands up, offering his hand. "Come on. I'm calling you a car, and you're going to get some sleep. That's an order from your driver."

"Oh, pulling rank now, are we?" you tease, but you're already saving your files and shutting down your laptop.

"If that's what it takes to get you to rest, absolutely," he says. As you gather your things, he adds softly, "You know, you're not alone anymore, YN. The team... we look after our own. You and Amelia, you're family now."

Something warm unfurls in your chest at his words. As you walk with him through the quiet paddock, you feel a little lighter, like you've shared some of the weight you've been carrying for so long.

"George?" you say as you reach the paddock exit. "Thank you. For listening, for caring... for everything."

He smiles, that genuine Russell smile that makes his eyes crinkle. "Anytime. Now go get some sleep - we've got a race to win tomorrow. Can't have my strategy engineer falling asleep on the pit wall, can we?"

For the first time in weeks, you fall asleep without worrying about simulations or spreadsheets, George's words echoing in your mind: you're not alone anymore.

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liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 67,890 others

yourinstagram Great triple header with a bunch of points for the team ! Super proud of George and Kimi and all the team who makes everything possible. Now it's home time where a certain little girl is waiting for me with hugs and drawings for her favorite drivers 🤍

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username1 WE LOVE YOU YNNN

username2 sometimes i forget that team members have families waiting for them at home and they spend so much time away at races

mercedesamgf1 Proud of our favorite engineer ✨

lando the famous amelia! eager to finally meet her

↳ yourinstagram She says her favorites are the silver arrow boys, but the papaya ones are also cool

username3 amazing job now time to resttt

username4 amelia must love kimi and george i'm crying

username5 you're a super mom! your little girl should be really proud

username6 rest queen you deserve it

kimi.antonelli love you team mom, say hi to my little bestie for me

↳ yourinstagram She says she can't wait to see you, baby driver

georgerussell63 Can't wait for more of Amelia's glittery good luck drawings

↳ yourinstagram She made you extra tall in those again

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You're curled up on your couch in your London flat, finally home after three grueling weeks of racing across different countries. The morning sun filters through your curtains, casting glow over Amelia's curls as she snuggles against you. She hasn't left your side since you got back yesterday, following you around the flat like a tiny shadow, even waiting outside the bathroom door. Now she's nestled into your side, her small hand playing with the sleeve of your jumper, a self-soothing habit she's had since she was a baby when she wants to make sure you're really there.

The TV is playing her favorite morning cartoons, but you can tell she's not really watching. She keeps glancing up at you, as if making sure you haven't disappeared in the last thirty seconds.

"Mummy?" she asks during a commercial break, twisting to look at you. "Does George miss us when we're not at the races?"

You smile at her use of 'us', even though she's never been to a race. "I don't know, sweetheart. Why do you ask?"

"Because you said he asked about me in Japan," she says matter-of-factly. "And he always says hi when you call me from the track." She pauses, then adds, "Sophie says her dad doesn't even remember to call when he goes on business trips."

You pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her head. Sometimes it startles you how perceptive five-year-olds can be. "That's because George is special. And you know what? You'll get to meet him at Silverstone."

"That's so far away," she pouts, crossing her arms. "It's ages and ages away. Does he know I got full marks in maths last week? Mrs. Thompson said my adding up was ex-cell-ent."

Before you can answer, your phone buzzes with a text. Speaking of the devil...

Your heart does a little flip as you read the message.

"Melia?" you say, running a hand through her curls. "How would you like to meet George today?"

The speed at which she sits up is almost concerning. "Really? Really really? Not just on FaceTime?"

"Really really," you confirm. "He wants to get coffee near the park."

Amelia launches herself off the couch, practically vibrating with excitement. "Can I wear my special cap? The one he signed? And my Mercedes shirt? And can I bring my drawings to show him? And-"

"Slow down, love!" you laugh. "Yes to the cap and shirt, and yes, you can bring one drawing. Now go get dressed while I text him back."

Two hours later, you're walking through Hyde Park, Amelia's small hand clutching yours tightly. She's wearing her prized Mercedes cap and has been chattering non-stop since you left home.

"Do you think he's as tall in real life as on TV?" she asks for the third time. "Will he remember that I said his car looked like a rocket ship? Can I show him my times tables? Do you think-"

"Breathe, sweetheart," you remind her gently, amused by her enthusiasm.

You spot him before she does, sitting at an outdoor table of the café. He's dressed casually in jeans and a white t-shirt, sunglasses perched on his head, looking nothing like the fierce competitor you see at races. He's doodling something on a napkin, and the sight makes you smile - he's nervous too.

"George!" Amelia calls out before you can stop her, and his face breaks into a bright smile as he stands up. He really is impossibly tall, you think, especially from a five-year-old's perspective.

"Hello there! You must be the famous Amelia," he says, crouching down to her level. "I've heard so much about you."

Amelia, usually so outgoing, suddenly turns shy, pressing against your leg. "Hi," she says softly, then adds with determination, "I got all my sums right at school. Even the hard ones with carrying over."

George's laugh is warm and genuine. "Did you now? Well, I brought something to test that." He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small notebook and some colored pens. "Thought we could do some racing maths while your mum and I have coffee. What do you say?"

Amelia's eyes light up, and just like that, her shyness vanishes. "Can we do sums about how fast you go? Mummy says you drive at three hundred kilometers per hour sometimes!"

"That's right," George grins. "Should we calculate how long it would take me to drive to the moon at that speed?"

"Don't get her started on space," you warn with a laugh. "We'll be here all day."

Soon, the three of you are settled at the table, Amelia perched on a chair between you and George as he draws race cars and creates simple math problems involving lap times and pit stops. You've ordered coffee for yourself and George, and true to his word, he's gotten Amelia a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.

"Right then," George says, drawing a simple track layout. "If I'm two seconds ahead of Max, and each lap takes one minute and thirty seconds..."

"That's ninety seconds!" Amelia interrupts proudly. "Because sixty plus thirty is ninety!"

"Brilliant!" George exclaims, and Amelia beams. "Now, if we do ten laps..."

You watch them interact, your heart swelling. George is surprisingly good with children, patient and engaging as he turns mathematics into a game about racing. He listens intently to Amelia's stories about school, asks her opinions about different racing tracks ("Abu Dhabi looks like a spaceship!" she declares), and seems genuinely delighted by her quick mind.

"Your daughter is brilliant," George tells you during a moment when Amelia is focused on coloring a particularly detailed Mercedes car. "She's got quite the mind for numbers. Wonder where she gets that from?"

"Like mother, like daughter," you reply, then catch him giving you a soft look that makes your cheeks warm.

"Mummy's really good at numbers," Amelia pipes up, not looking up from her coloring. "She helps me count my pocket money and everything. And she knows exactly how many sleeps until every race."

The afternoon passes quickly, filled with laughter and racing stories. George tells Amelia about his karting days, and she hangs on every word, occasionally interjecting with facts she's learned from watching races with you.

"I started racing when I was about your age," George tells her. "Maybe a bit older."

"Really?" Amelia's eyes go wide. "Mummy, can I do racing?"

You see George trying to hide his smile at your slightly panicked expression. "Maybe we can start with something a bit less dangerous," you suggest. "Like your school sports day?"

"Oh!" Amelia bounces in her seat. "George, I'm going to run in races at school! We have a special day and everything!"

"Is that so?" George leans forward, genuinely interested. "When is this big race?"

"Next Thursday!" she says excitedly. "We get to wear our own clothes instead of school uniform and everything! And Mummy's taking the morning off work to watch." She pauses, then adds hopefully, "Will you come see me race? I'm going to run really fast, like you drive."

"Amelia," you start to say, not wanting her to put George on the spot, but he interrupts.

"Well, I'll have to check my schedule, but I'd love to come see you race," George says seriously. "What events are you doing?"

"The hundred meter dash," Amelia pronounces carefully, clearly proud of remembering the proper term. "And the egg and spoon race. And maybe the three-legged race if Sarah wants to be my partner."

"Those are very important races," George nods solemnly. "Almost as important as the British Grand Prix."

"More important," Amelia declares. "Because Mummy says taking part is what matters, not winning."

You catch George's eye over her head, and he gives you a warm smile that makes your stomach flutter.

As the afternoon light starts to fade, you reluctantly check your watch. "We should probably head home, love. It's nearly dinner time."

"Five more minutes?" Amelia pleads, in the middle of showing George her detailed drawing of what she thinks the Mercedes factory looks like (complete with a rocket launch pad, because according to her, race cars are basically rockets).

"Tell you what," George says, "why don't I walk back through the park with you both? It's such a nice evening."

The walk back is filled with Amelia's chatter as she skips between you and George, occasionally holding both your hands to swing herself forward. She's completely at ease now, telling George about her friend Sophie's hamster and how she wants a pet too.

"Maybe a racing dog?" George suggests with a wink at you.

"George!" Amelia says suddenly, stopping in her tracks. "Will you come to my birthday party? It's not for ages and ages, but Mummy says we can have it in the garden and there might be a bouncy castle!"

"Amelia," you say gently, "George is very busy with racing-"

"When's your birthday?" George asks, ignoring your attempt to give him an out.

"In the summer!" she says proudly. "I'm going to be six!"

"I think I might be able to make it," George muses thoughtfully. "If your mum says it's okay, of course."

You're about to remind them both that summer is months away when you reach your street. As you're saying goodbye, Amelia surprises both you and George by hugging his legs. "Thank you for helping me with maths," she says. "And for making the silver cars go fast with Mummy."

George's expression softens as he hugs her back. "Thank you for being such a great student. Keep practicing those sums, okay? I'll need to test you again at sports day."

Later that night, as you're tucking Amelia into bed, she asks sleepily, "Mummy? I like George. He's nice."

You smile. "Yeah, baby. He is nice."

"He listens when I talk," she continues, fighting to keep her eyes open. "And he makes you smile the pretty smile."

You brush her curls back from her forehead, your heart full. "Get some sleep, love."

"Can we see him again soon?"

"We'll see," you say, kissing her forehead. "Sweet dreams, love."

As you close her door, your phone buzzes with a text.

You lean against the wall, smiling at your phone like a teenager. Something warm and hopeful blooms in your chest, a feeling you haven't allowed yourself to experience in a very long time. The way George was with Amelia today, so patient and kind, so genuinely interested in her thoughts and ideas...

You fall asleep that night thinking about George's smile, Amelia's laughter, and the way your little family of two suddenly feels like it might have room to grow.

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liked by georgerussell63, lando and 72,037 others

yourinstagram Someone special showed up to support our champion🥇 Thank you @/georgerussell63 for being such a good sport (literally) and making a little girl's day!

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username1 THIS IS SO CUTE OMFG

username2 IT WAS REALLY GEORGE

kimi.antonelli my team mom and dad being cute again 😎 tell my bestie i'm proud of her medal!!

mercedesamgf1 Our driver taking his coaching duties very seriously!

charles_leclerc this is adorable! congratulations amelia! 🎉

georgerussell63 Best co-pilot ever! Thanks for letting me join sports day, champ!

username3 GEORGE RUSSELL SHOWING UP TO SPORTS DAY AND DOING THE PARENT RACE?? this man is unreal 😭

username4 the way he's just casually becoming dad of the year?? help??

username5 THIS IS NOT REAL

username6 kimi calling them team mom and dad i can't- this family dynamic is everything

username7 the way the entire paddock is just watching these two co-parent at this point

username8 george showing up to support his engineer's daughter at sports day?? this is literally a romance novel

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You're in the Mercedes garage at Monaco, triple-checking the timing screens when Kimi bounces in, still buzzing with energy despite just finishing FP2. At seventeen, he's the youngest driver on the grid, but his talent is undeniable, having him move up to Mercedes feels like watching your second child succeed.

"There's my favorite strategy engineer!" he announces, dropping into the chair next to you. "Where's my bestie? I thought Amelia was coming to Monaco?"

You laugh, ruffling his hair despite his protests. "Silverstone, kid. That's the plan for her first race."

"But that's so far away," he whines, sounding remarkably like Amelia when she's disappointed. "I need her to draw me a good luck picture too. George keeps showing off the ones she makes him."

At the mention of George's name, you feel your cheeks warm slightly. Kimi notices immediately, his face splitting into a mischievous grin.

"Speaking of George..." he starts, wiggling his eyebrows. "I saw you two in the engineering room yesterday. Looking pretty cozy over those strategy plans."

"We were working," you say firmly, though your blush deepens.

"Sure, sure," Kimi nods sagely. "That's why George gets this dopey smile every time someone mentions your name. Because of work."

"Shouldn't you be in your post-practice debrief?" you deflect, trying to hide your smile.

"Oh, I'm gathering important team information right now," he says cheekily. "Like when George is finally going to ask you out properly instead of pretending he needs to discuss strategy at midnight."

You swat at him with your notebook. "Focus on your driving, kid."

"I am!" he protests. "Now let me focus on my other job, getting my two favorite people together." He pauses thoughtfully. "Well, three favorite people. Amelia's my number one, obviously."

"Of course she is," you roll your eyes fondly. "She asked about you this morning, by the way. Wanted to know if her 'baby driver' was being good."

Kimi beams at the nickname. "Tell her I'm being excellent. Unlike some people who keep pining away instead of-"

"Who's pining away?" George's voice cuts in as he enters the garage, and Kimi's grin turns positively wicked.

"Oh, just talking about-"

"Your tire management," you interrupt quickly, shooting Kimi a warning look. "Which needs work, by the way."

Kimi gives you an exaggerated wink before turning to George. "Hey teammate, YN was just telling me about Amelia's new drawing. The one where she drew you holding the trophy in Monaco?"

George's face lights up. "She drew that? Can I see?"

"It's not finished yet," you say, making a mental note to kill Kimi later. "She wants to add glitter."

"Of course she does," George laughs. "Speaking of Amelia, I found this great book about space and racing. Thought she might like it for her school project. I can bring it by later when we go over the quali strategy?"

"Quali strategy," Kimi mouths behind George's back, making kissy faces. You resist the urge to throw your pen at him.

"That would be nice," you say, trying to maintain professionalism despite Kimi's antics. "Thanks, George."

After George leaves, Kimi leans back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be good with numbers, you're really bad at calculating how totally in love with you he is."

"Don't you have some sim work to do?" you ask, but there's no bite to it.

"Fine, fine," he sighs dramatically, standing up. "But tell Amelia her baby driver misses her and needs more good luck drawings. And tell her that her future dad is doing great in practice-"

"OUT!" you laugh, pushing him toward the door.

"Love you too, Team Mom!" he calls over his shoulder.

As you turn back to your work, you can't help but smile. Between Amelia's enthusiasm, Kimi's teasing, and George's... everything, your life has become wonderfully complicated.

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liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 82,478 others

yourinstagram Couldn't be prouder of these two! P1 for George and first ever podium for our baby driver. Special thank you to a certain 5-year-old whose lucky drawings (and very specific corner-by-corner instructions) clearly did the trick! 💫

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username1 COME ONNNN

kimi.antonelli BESTIE YOUR DAUGHTER IS MAGIC!! her rocket drawings made me faster, i have proof 🚀

georgerussell63 The fairy wings definitely gave us extra downforce today! Thanks chief engineer in training!

mercedesamgf1 Proof that rocket drawings = extra speed

alex_albon Need to know more about these magic drawings tbh 👀

username2 okay but can we talk about how george keeps amelia's drawings in his driver room?? proud dad energy??

username3 MY SON'S FIRST PODIUM 😭 and him immediately showing yn's daughter the trophy i'm deceased

username4 not me crying over kimi calling yn "team mom" and showing off his trophy like a kid who got an A+ 🥺

username5 the cutest f1 family doesn't exi-

username6 LIVING for george and yn trying to pretend they're not basically dating and co-parenting at this point

username7 george russell handsome successful f1 driver who keeps a 5 year old's drawings for good luck?? my heart can't take this

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The Silverstone paddock is buzzing with its usual race day energy, but today feels different. Your parents arrived with Amelia an hour ago, and watching your daughter take in the F1 world for the first time is making you see everything through new eyes.

"And this is where all the computers are," you explain, showing her around the garage. She's wearing her special Mercedes outfit, a miniature team kit that appeared mysteriously in your flat last week (you suspect George), complete with her own headset and passes.

"It's like a spaceship!" she whispers in awe, clutching your hand. "Is this where you make George and Kimi go fast?"

Before you can answer, a familiar voice calls out, "BESTIE!"

Amelia whirls around to see Kimi bounding toward her, already in his race suit. "Baby driver!" she squeals, running to hug him.

Kimi scoops her up, spinning her around. "Finally! I've been waiting forever to see you! Your drawings give me good luck, you know."

"Really?" Amelia beams. "I made you a new one for today! Mummy, can I show him?"

You pull the carefully protected drawing from your bag. Kimi and George's cars racing with what appears to be rockets attached to them. Kimi examines it with exaggerated seriousness.

"This is perfect! The rockets are exactly what we need," he declares. "Should we go put it up in my driver room?"

Amelia looks at you questioningly. "Can I go with Kimi, Mummy?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Grandma and Grandpa can go too." You turn to your parents, who are watching the scene with amused smiles. "I need to check some things before the race."

"Come on, bestie," Kimi says, still holding Amelia. "I'll show you where I keep all your other drawings. They're my lucky charms!"

As they head off, Amelia chattering excitedly about her rocket design theories, you hear your mother say to your father, "Did you ever think our granddaughter would have a Formula 1 driver as her best friend?"

You're reviewing last-minute strategy changes when George arrives, looking sharp in his race suit but slightly nervous.

"Is she here?" he asks, peering around the garage.

"Kimi kidnapped her," you laugh. "Something about lucky charm drawings."

George's face falls slightly. "Oh. I, uh, I got her something. For her first race." He pulls out a small package wrapped in silver paper.

"George..." you start, touched by his thoughtfulness.

"GEORGE!" Amelia's voice echoes through the garage as she runs back in, Kimi following with a grin. She launches herself at George, who catches her easily.

"Hello, trouble," he says warmly. "Ready for your first race?"

"Kimi showed me his room! And all my drawings are on the wall! And he has a special chair that spins around and around and-"

"Breathe, love," you remind her, sharing an amused look with George.

"I have something for you," George tells her, setting her down and handing her the package. "Every proper race engineer needs one of these."

Amelia carefully unwraps it to reveal a personalized notebook with "AMELIA - Race Engineer in Training" embossed on the cover, along with the Mercedes logo.

"It's just like Mummy's!" she gasps, running her fingers over the lettering.

"Look inside," George encourages.

She opens it to find the first page filled with messages - one from George, one from Kimi, and to your surprise, messages from Lewis Hamilton, Toto, and the entire engineering team.

"Now you can take notes during the race," George explains. "Study all our moves so you can tell us what we did wrong later."

Amelia hugs the notebook to her chest, then throws her arms around George's neck. "Thank you! I'm going to write down everything! Even when you make mistakes!"

"Especially when he makes mistakes," Kimi adds with a wink.

The pre-race preparations fly by, and before you know it, it's almost time for the drivers to head to the grid. Your parents have taken Amelia to their seats in the garage, where she's already making serious notes in her new notebook.

"Right," Kimi says, giving Amelia a high five. "I've got my lucky drawing, so P1 is basically guaranteed."

"No way," George argues playfully. "My drawing has more glitter. That's worth at least half a second per lap."

As they head out, you hear Amelia ask your mother, "Grandma, why does George look at Mummy the same way Prince Charming looks at Cinderella?"

You feel your face heat up as Kimi bursts out laughing and George nearly trips over his own feet.

The race itself is intense. Through it all, you can hear Amelia's running commentary behind you:

"Mummy told George to go faster and he did!" "The red car is being silly, Mummy make them move!" "Baby driver is catching up!"

And even though the race itself didn't bring good results for the team, the smile on George's face when he hugged you and Amelia after the race could probably light up London after dark.

Hours later, you're packing up your things in the engineering room after a long day of post-Silverstone analysis when George appears in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He's changed out of his team gear into casual clothes, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Hey," he says, lingering in the doorway. "Good day?"

"Yeah, just finishing up the race report," you nod, trying not to notice how good he looks in that light blue jumper. "You?"

"Same, all done with media." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Listen, I was wondering... would you like to get dinner?"

"Oh," you say, checking your watch. "I should probably get home soon. It's Amelia's bedtime and-"

"I meant just you and me," he interrupts softly. "Like... a date."

You freeze in the middle of putting your laptop away, your heart suddenly racing. "Oh," you say again, eloquently.

"I know this great place in Mayfair," he continues quickly, as if afraid you'll say no if he doesn't get all the words out. "And I already talked to your mum, she said she'd love to watch Amelia for the evening. If you want to, that is. No pressure at all, I just thought... well, after everything, and Silverstone was amazing, and you're amazing, and-"

"George," you cut off his rambling with a smile. "Are you asking me on a proper date?"

He runs a hand through his hair, that endearing nervous gesture you've come to love. "Yes. Very badly, apparently."

"You talked to my mum?" you ask, amused and touched.

"Well, yeah," he admits, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "She cornered me after the race actually. Said something about being tired of watching us dance around each other and that she'd happily babysit any time."

You laugh, remembering your mother's knowing looks throughout the race weekend. "Did my five-year-old and my mother conspire to set us up?"

"Don't forget Kimi," George grins. "He's been sending me links to romantic restaurants for weeks. And threatening to tell Amelia all my embarrassing stories if I didn't, and I quote, 'get my act together.'"

"Sounds like we've been thoroughly outmaneuvered," you say, your heart feeling impossibly full.

"So..." George takes a step closer, hope written all over his face. "Is that a yes?"

You pretend to think about it. "Well, since you've already gotten approval from my entire family, including my self-appointed eighteen-year-old son..."

"YN," he groans, but he's smiling.

"Yes," you say softly. "I'd love to have dinner with just you."

His face breaks into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your stomach flip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He takes another step closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "I've been wanting to ask you for ages," he admits. "Since Barcelona, really. Well, since before that if I'm honest."

"What took you so long?" you ask, even though your heart is hammering so hard you can barely hear your own words.

"I wanted to do it right," he says. "Make sure Amelia was okay with it, that you were ready. That I wasn't misreading things." He pauses. "Also, Kimi told me I had to wait until after Silverstone because he had money on me asking you out this week."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Of course he did."

"So," George says, taking your hand. "Tonight? I can pick you up at eight?"

"Seven sounds perfect."

As if on cue, your phone buzzes with a text from your mother:

Mum: Amelia and I are having a girls' night! Don't worry about bedtime, we've got it covered. Have fun on your date! 😘

George peers at your phone and laughs. "I think we've been set up by the most elaborate matchmaking scheme in F1 history."

"Seems like it," you agree, squeezing his hand. "Better make it worth their effort then."

His eyes soften as he looks at you. "I plan to."

As you walk out of the engineering room hand in hand, you can't help but smile at how perfectly everything has fallen into place. Your daughter adores him, your family approves, and even your teenage driver-turned-matchmaker is thrilled.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by yourintagram, lando and 601,287 others

georgerussell63 Not the Silverstone weekend we wanted on track, but having this little engineer-in-training in our garage made everything better. Thanks for the lucky drawings Amelia - we'll get them right next time! P.S. Your detailed notes about my "silly mistake in turn 3" were very professional 😅

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username1 AHH THIS IS THE CUTEST THING EVER I CANT

username2 GEORGE SOFT ERA

kimi.antonelli she told me your mistakes too 😎 bestie keeps it real

lando mate she really wrote "george needs to drive more zoomy" in her notebook i'm crying

mercedesamgf1 Our newest team member giving very thorough feedback! 📝

yourinstagram She's already planning your strategy for Spa. Apparently it involves fairy dust and "extra zoom buttons"

username4 the way george claimed both yn and amelia is just to cute

username5 WE STAN AMELIA

username6 not to sound weird but you can tell that george ADORES both of them

username7 THIS IS MY FAMILY

liked by username1, username2 and 12,095 other

f1gossip BREAKING: Mercedes driver George Russell and chief race engineer YN spotted having dinner together at exclusive Mayfair restaurant. First time the two have been seen together outside of work events. 👀

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username1 HELLO??? THIS IS NOT A DRILL?? look at the way he's looking at her omg

username2 someone write this romance novel immediately

username3 not me zooming in on every detail 👀 THE HAND ON THE TABLE NEARLY TOUCHING HERS I'M SCREAMING

username4 not to be That Person but the way he's always so sweet with her daughter?? and now this?? im crying in the club rn

username5 don't be weird about this

username6 someone check on kimi, bet he's having a proud son moment watching his team parents finally get together

username7 manifesting the cutest f1 family rn 🕯️🕯️🕯️

username8 GEORGE RUSSELL BOYFRIEND ERA STARTS NOW

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It's well past Amelia's bedtime when you unlock your front door, cheeks still flushed from the perfect evening, and the goodnight kiss that made you feel like a teenager again. You expect to find your mother reading on the couch, but instead, you hear small feet padding down the hallway.

"Mummy!" Amelia appears in her pink princess pajamas, clearly having fought off sleep to wait for you. "You're home!"

"Sweetheart, why aren't you in bed?" you ask, though you can't bring yourself to be stern when she looks so excited.

Your mother appears behind her, looking apologetic. "Someone insisted on staying up until you got back. Said she needed to make sure the date went well."

"Did you have nice dinner?" Amelia asks, taking your hand and pulling you to the couch. "Did George tell you funny stories? Did he make you laugh? Sophie says her mummy went on a date and didn't laugh at all and never saw the man again."

You catch your mother trying to hide her smile as she disappears into the kitchen, clearly giving you space for this conversation.

"Yes, we had a lovely dinner," you say, settling onto the couch. Amelia immediately climbs into your lap, her favorite spot for important conversations. "And yes, George made me laugh a lot."

"Good," she says seriously. "Because you have a pretty laugh, Mummy."

Your heart catches at her observation. Sometimes you forget how perceptive she is.

"Did you wear your sparkly dress?" she continues, playing with your necklace - the delicate silver one George had noticed and complimented over dinner.

"I did."

"George likes sparkly things," she nods sagely. "He always says my glitter drawings are his favorite."

You smile, remembering how George had shown you a whole folder on his phone of photos of Amelia's artwork. "He does love your drawings."

"Mummy?" Amelia looks up at you, her expression suddenly serious. "Are you happy?"

"What do you mean, love?"

"When George is around, you smile different," she explains. "Like when we have ice cream on Sunday or when I learn a new word. It's your happy smile." She pauses, thinking hard.

You pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her curls. "You're right. George does make me very happy."

"Good," she declares. "Because he makes me happy too. And he helps me with maths. And he remembers what I like. And he makes baby driver behave." She counts off these qualities on her small fingers.

"Does he now?" you laugh.

"Mhm. Today when you were getting ready, he called to tell me a bedtime story about racing cars while Grandma did my hair. But then I had to promise not to tell you because it was supposed to be a surprise that he called."

Your heart melts at this revelation. You hadn't known about the bedtime story.

"And Mummy?" she continues, fighting back a yawn. "I think George has a happy smile when he sees you too. Like when you wear your sparkly dress or when you tell him he did good racing."

"Did well racing," you correct automatically, making her giggle.

"Did well racing," she repeats. "So can we see him again soon? Maybe for pancakes? He promised to show me how to make them in funny shapes."

"Did he now?"

She nods enthusiastically. "He said he can make race car pancakes! And he said maybe next time we can both come to dinner with him, and he knows a place that has the best chocolate cake ever."

"We'll see," you say, but you're already smiling at the thought. "But right now, little miss, it's way past your bedtime."

"One more question?" she pleads, giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

"One more."

"If George makes us both happy, and we make him happy, and he makes good pancakes..." she thinks carefully about her words, "does that mean he can stay? Properly stay?"

Your throat tightens with emotion. "Oh, sweetheart..."

"Because I think we should keep him," she says matter-of-factly. "He fits good with us. Like my puzzle pieces when they click together right."

"Fits well," you correct softly, blinking back tears.

"Fits well," she agrees, snuggling closer. "So can we keep him? He remembers everything. That's important, Mummy. Mrs. Thompson says remembering things about people you love is very important."

"When did you get so wise?" you ask, hugging her close.

"I learned it from you," she says simply. "And George says I'm smart like my mummy. I think we should definitely keep him."

Looking at your daughter's hopeful face, thinking about the perfect evening and how naturally he fits into your lives, you find yourself agreeing.

"Yeah," you say softly. "I think we should."

"Good," Amelia yawns, finally letting sleep catch up with her. "Because he makes everything better. Like sprinkles on ice cream."

As you carry your sleepy daughter to bed, she mumbles, "Mummy? I'm happy you're happy."

You tuck her in, your heart so full it might burst. "I'm happy you're happy too, love."

"Tell George I said goodnight," she murmurs, already drifting off. "And that he better not forget about the pancakes..."

Looking at your sleeping daughter, thinking about George's words, you realize that sometimes the best families are the ones you build yourself, piece by perfectly fitting piece.

You fall asleep that night with a smile on your face, dreaming of race car pancakes, perfect puzzle pieces, and the way happiness feels when it finally clicks into place.

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The summer heat has turned your London flat into a lazy afternoon paradise. You're in the kitchen preparing cold lemonade while Amelia sits at the counter, tongue stuck out in concentration as she works on her latest masterpiece - a drawing of what she claims is Kimi's car with rocket boosters.

"Mummy, do you think baby driver will like the purple rockets?" she asks, reaching for another crayon.

"I think he'll love them," you assure her, just as there's a knock at the door.

"I'll get it!" Amelia scrambles off her stool before you can stop her.

"Amelia, wait-" but she's already running to the door.

"Who is it?" she calls out, following your safety rules.

"It's George!" comes the familiar voice, and Amelia beams at you.

"Can I open it, Mummy? Please?"

You nod, and she throws the door open to reveal George standing there in casual clothes, looking unfairly handsome in a simple white t-shirt and jeans.

"George!" Amelia launches herself at him, and he catches her with practiced ease. "Are you here to see my new drawings? I made one for baby driver with rockets!"

"Of course I am," he grins, carrying her inside. His eyes meet yours over her head, soft and warm. "Hi."

"Hi," you reply, trying to control your smile. "This is a surprise."

"Good surprise?" he asks, setting Amelia down.

"Look!" Amelia interrupts, grabbing his hand and pulling him to her artwork. "See? Purple rockets!"

"Very aerodynamic," George nods seriously, examining the drawing. "Though I think the Mercedes might need some rockets too, don't you?"

While Amelia launches into an elaborate explanation of her rocket distribution strategy, George catches your eye again, mouthing 'kitchen?' with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll get you some lemonade," you say, heading to the kitchen. Moments later, you hear him tell Amelia he'll be right back to help her with the Mercedes rockets.

As soon as he enters the kitchen, he's in your space, hands settling on your waist. "Hi," he says again, softer this time.

"You said that already," you tease, even as your heart races.

"Didn't get to say it properly though," he murmurs, leaning down. "Been thinking about doing this all week..."

His lips meet yours in a gentle kiss that makes your knees weak. You wind your arms around his neck, melting into it as he pulls you closer-

"Mummy? George? What are you doing?"

You jump apart like teenagers caught by their parents. Amelia stands in the doorway, head tilted in confusion, her purple crayon forgotten in her hand.

"We were just..." you start, face burning.

"Were you kissing?" she asks directly, making you both flush deeper.

"Um," George runs a hand through his hair nervously. "Yes?"

Amelia considers this for a moment. "Oh. Like in the princess movies?"

"Something like that," you manage, wondering how to handle this situation.

"Okay," she says simply. Then, "Can I have more lemonade?"

You blink at the sudden change of subject. "Of course, love."

As you pour her drink, she looks between you and George thoughtfully. "Does this mean George is your boyfriend now?"

George makes a choking sound beside you, and you nearly spill the lemonade.

"Well..." you look at George, who seems equally unsure how to answer.

"Because Sophie from school says when people kiss they're boyfriend and girlfriend," Amelia continues matter-of-factly. "And you smile a lot when George is here. And he brings me drawings from baby driver. And he remembers I like the blue cup not the red one."

She says all this while George hands her the correct blue cup, proving her point.

"Would that be okay?" George asks carefully. "If I was your mummy's boyfriend?"

Amelia takes a long sip of lemonade, clearly thinking it over. "Will you still help me with my drawings?"

"Of course."

"And tell me racing stories?"

"Absolutely."

"And you won't make Mummy sad?"

Your heart clenches at that, and you see George swallow hard.

"I promise," he says softly, "I will try my very best to only make your mummy smile."

Amelia nods, apparently satisfied. "Okay then. Can we do the rockets for your car now?"

"Lead the way, boss," George says, shooting you a relieved smile.

As Amelia skips back to her drawings, George quickly squeezes your hand. "That went better than expected?"

"Yeah," you breathe out. "Though we might want to be more careful with the kitchen kisses."

He grins, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. "Noted. Though I can't promise I won't want to kiss you every time I see you."

"George!" Amelia calls. "The rockets won't draw themselves!"

"Coming!" he calls back, then quickly steals one more kiss. "For the road."

You watch him join Amelia at the counter, the way he listens intently to her explanation of rocket physics (mostly gathered from cartoons), and feel your heart swell. It's early days still, but watching them together, you can't help but hope this is just the beginning of something wonderful.

"Mummy!" Amelia waves you over. "George says we need strategy for the rockets. That's your job!"

"Can't argue with that," you laugh, joining them at the counter.

As evening settles in, you find George and Amelia sprawled on the living room floor, surrounded by LEGO pieces. The instructions for her new F1 car set lie forgotten as George helps her create what appears to be a highly modified version.

"See, if we put this piece here," George explains, "it makes the perfect spot for your rocket boosters."

"Can we make the wheels rainbow colored?" Amelia asks through a yawn.

"Of course we- did you just yawn?" George teases, poking her side gently.

"No," she protests, even as another yawn escapes. "M'not tired."

"Really?" you ask from your spot on the couch. "Because it looks like someone's about to fall asleep in her LEGOs."

"But George hasn't finished helping me," she whines softly, rubbing her eyes.

George catches your eye, silently asking permission. At your nod, he says, "How about I help you get ready for bed, and tomorrow you can finish the car?"

Amelia perks up slightly. "Promise you'll come back tomorrow?"

"Actually, sweetheart," he says carefully, "I have to go to Monaco for a few days. But I'll be back for your birthday next week."

Her lower lip trembles slightly. "You won't miss my party?"

"Miss your sixth birthday party? No way," he assures her. "I've already got your present picked out and everything."

"Really?" she asks sleepily.

"Really. Now, bedtime?"

She holds up her arms. "Will you carry me like when I fell asleep at the factory?"

George scoops her up easily, and your heart melts as she immediately snuggles into his shoulder. "Story?" she mumbles.

"One story," you say, following them to her room.

You watch from the doorway as George helps her into her pajamas and tucks her in, making sure her favorite stuffed car is properly positioned.

"Can you tell me about Monaco?" she asks as he sits on the edge of her bed. "Since that's where you're going?"

"Well," he starts, smoothing her hair back, "Monaco is like a magical kingdom by the sea. The buildings are all white and shiny, and the race track goes right through the city..."

You listen as he weaves a story about princesses who race cars and dolphins who watch from the harbor. By the time he's describing the tunnel section, Amelia's eyes are fluttering closed.

"G'night George," she mumbles. "Love you."

George's hand stills in her hair for a moment, and you see the emotion cross his face. "Goodnight, princess," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams."

He joins you in the doorway, both of you watching as she snuggles deeper into her blankets.

"You okay?" you ask softly, noting his expression.

He nods, leading you back to the living room. Once you're out of earshot, he pulls you close, burying his face in your hair.

"She said she loves me," he murmurs.

"She does," you confirm, wrapping your arms around him. "You've become very important to her."

He pulls back enough to look at you, his eyes intense. "You know you both are important to me too, right? I know we haven't been dating long, but..."

"I know," you assure him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "We know."

He leans into your touch. "I hate that I have to go to Monaco."

"It's only for a few days," you remind him. "And it's part of the job."

"Yeah," he sighs, pulling you toward the couch. You curl into his side automatically. "I just... I'll miss this. Miss you both."

"We'll miss you too," you admit. "But you'll be back for the party. Speaking of which, what exactly have you got planned? Amelia's been trying to guess all week."

His face lights up. "Ah, that's classified information. But I think she'll love it."

"George..."

"Don't worry," he laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Nothing too extravagant. Well, maybe a little extravagant. But she's only turning six once!"

You shake your head fondly. "You're going to spoil her rotten."

"That's my job, isn't it?" he asks, then seems to catch himself. "I mean, not my job, but... you know what I mean."

"I do," you say softly, understanding the weight of what he's not saying. It's early days still, but you both know this is heading somewhere serious.

He pulls you closer, and you sit in comfortable silence for a while, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

"When do you leave?" you ask eventually.

"Early tomorrow," he sighs. "Need to be there for some sponsorship events."

"Then we should probably clean up these LEGOs before someone steps on one in the morning."

He groans dramatically but helps you up. As you both kneel to collect the scattered pieces, he keeps stealing glances at you.

"What?" you ask after the third time you catch him looking.

"Nothing," he smiles. "Just... thank you."

"For what?"

"For letting me be part of this," he gestures around the flat, at Amelia's drawings on the fridge, the LEGOs, the life you've built. "For trusting me with her. With both of you."

Your heart swells. "Thank you for wanting to be part of it."

He reaches for you then, LEGOs forgotten as he pulls you into a soft kiss. It's different from the heated kitchen kiss earlier - slower, deeper, full of everything neither of you are quite ready to say out loud.

When you break apart, he rests his forehead against yours. "I should go," he whispers. "Early flight."

"Okay," you murmur, stealing one more kiss.

At the door, he turns back. "Tell Amelia I'll FaceTime her from Monaco? And maybe..." he hesitates, "maybe we could FaceTime too? After she's in bed?"

"I'd like that," you smile.

"And you'll text me if you need anything? Or if she does?"

"George," you laugh softly, "it's three days."

"I know, I know," he runs a hand through his hair. "I just... I got used to seeing you both every day. This is different."

"We'll be fine," you assure him. "Just come back in time for the party. Can't disappoint your biggest fan."

His expression softens. "Never." He kisses you one last time, gentle and sweet. "Sweet dreams, beautiful."

Later, checking on Amelia before bed, you find she's kicked off her blankets as usual. As you tuck her back in, she stirs slightly.

"Mummy?" she mumbles. "Is George gone?"

"Yes, love. But he'll be back soon."

"Good," she sighs, already drifting back to sleep. "He gives good hugs. And he makes you smile the proper way."

Looking at your sleeping daughter, thinking of George's gentle ways with her, his careful consideration of her feelings, the way he's slotted so perfectly into your lives, you can't help but smile "the proper way."

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liked by username1, username2 and 17,984 others

f1gossip George Russell pulled up to a Mercedes event in Monaco… and brought a model with him 👀

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username1 OHHHHH

username2 what about yn...

username3 THEY LOOK SO GOOD

username4 george single era is coming

username5 this is why i told y'all not to be weair about him and he merc strategist

username6 NOOO HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE WITH YN

username7 yn and amelia are literally right there

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The flat feels quiet without Amelia's laughter echoing through it. Your mother had taken her for a girls afternoon, and you stayed back home doing some chores. A certain British driver's smile coming to your mind as you move through the house.

You're curled up on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when they appear, photos that make your heart stop. George at some glamorous Monaco event, looking devastatingly handsome in his tailored suit. But it's not his appearance that makes your stomach churn, it's the stunning model on his arm.

They look perfect together - like something out of a magazine spread. The kind of couple that belongs at these events.

Your phone rings, making you snap out of it. Kimi's name appearing on screen. For a moment, you consider letting it go to voicemail, but he'd only keep calling.

"Hey," you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Finally," he grumbles. "Been trying to figure out what to get the little monster for her birthday. Does she still like those unicorn games?"

"Yeah, she does."

"That's enthusiastic," he says sarcastically. "What about- hang on. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Don't bullshit me, YN. I've known you too long. You're my team mum."

You sink deeper into the couch, pulling a throw pillow to your chest. "I'm fine."

"You sound like when George beat you at Mario Kart and you pretended it didn't bother you for two weeks."

"That was different," you protest weakly. "He cheated."

"Stop deflecting. What happened?"

You're quiet for a long moment, then, "Have you checked social media today?"

There's rustling, then typing. A long pause. "Ah, fuck."

"Yeah."

"YN..."

"Don't," you cut him off, voice thick. "Don't try to explain it away. I get it. She's gorgeous and sophisticated and probably knows all about sponsorship events and doesn't have a complicated life with a six-year-old and-"

"Stop," Kimi interrupts firmly. "First, you're spiraling. Second, you know these events are bullshit. Remember when they tried to set me up with that Instagram model?"

"This is different."

"How?"

"They look..." you swallow hard, "right together. Like they fit. Like they make sense."

"And you and George don't make sense?" Kimi asks skeptically. "Because from where I'm standing, you fit better than most things in this ridiculous sport. Like Amelia says, puzzle pieces."

"I thought..." your voice cracks. "I really thought maybe this time would be different. That maybe..."

"Have you talked to him?"

"No."

"YN..."

"I can't," you whisper, tears finally falling. "I can't hear him say that this was fun but he's found someone more suitable or-"

"Now you're being stupid," Kimi cuts in. "George isn't like that. You know he's not."

"Do I? Because I thought Amelia's father wasn't like that either, and look how that turned out."

There's a long pause. When Kimi speaks again, his voice is gentler. "George isn't him. You know that."

"I can't risk it," you say softly. "I can't risk Amelia getting hurt. I can't have her wait by the window, hoping he'd come back."

"And that's exactly why you should talk to George," Kimi insists. "Because he's not the kind of man who makes little girls wait by windows."

"But what if he is?" Your voice is barely audible. "What if I let her love him and then..."

"Then you'll deal with it. But you can't protect her from everything, YN. And maybe you're protecting her from something beautiful."

You wipe your eyes. "When did you get so wise? Why am I taking advice from my 18-year-old work son."

"I've always been wise. You just never listen." His tone turns serious again. "Have you checked your phone? Has he tried to contact you?"

You glance at your notifications - nothing from George. The realization makes your chest ache. "No."

"Give it time. There's probably an explanation."

"Yeah," you say hollowly. "The explanation is probably five-foot-ten with perfect hair and no emotional baggage."

"YN..."

"I should go," you cut in. "Amelia will be home soon and I can't... I can't let her see me like this."

"You don't have to handle everything alone, you know."

"Yes, I do," you say quietly. "That's what being a single mother means."

Before he can respond, you hear keys in the door. "They're back. I have to go."

"YN, wait-"

You hang up just as Amelia bursts in, already talking excitedly about her day with grandma.

"And then we saw the biggest dog ever and- Mummy?" she stops suddenly, looking at you with those too-perceptive eyes. "Are you sad?"

"No, love," you force a smile, quickly wiping your face. "Just tired."

She climbs onto the couch next to you, her small hand reaching up to touch your cheek where a tear had fallen. "You look sad though."

Your heart clenches. This is exactly what you were afraid of - her picking up on your pain, carrying it. You won't do that to her.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," you say, pulling her close. "Tell me more about your day with grandma."

"Well..." she starts, but then pauses. "When is George coming back? He promised to help me finish my LEGO car."

The innocent question feels like a knife to your heart. "He's very busy with work right now, love."

"But he'll be back for my party, right? He promised."

You hold her tighter, breathing in her familiar sweet scent, trying to find the right words that won't hurt her. "Sometimes... sometimes grown-ups have to change their plans."

"Oh," she says quietly, and you can hear the beginning of disappointment in her voice. It makes you want to cry all over again.

Looking down at Amelia, at her tiny fingers playing with the bracelet George gave her, you think maybe some risks aren't worth taking. You won't let her build hopes around someone only to watch them crumble.

Better to step back now, before she gets even more attached. Before those goodnight calls and LEGO sessions and racing stories become something she can't live without. Before George becomes a person she waits by windows for.

Even if it means breaking your own heart in the process.

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The soft knock at your door comes just after ten. You knew he'd come, George Russell isn't the type to let something go, especially not this. Still, your hands shake as you open the door.

He looks exhausted, still in his travel clothes, hair messy like he's been running his hands through it repeatedly. The moment he sees you, his face crumples with relief.

"YN," he breathes, stepping forward, but you move back.

"You shouldn't be here," your voice is barely a whisper, conscious of Amelia sleeping down the hall.

"Where else would I be?" He stays in the doorway, respecting your space even as his eyes plead with you. "Please, just talk to me. What happened? What changed?"

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold it together. "I saw the photos."

"The- oh god, the event photos?" His eyes widen. "YN, that wasn't- it was just PR. Mercedes arranged it, I should have told you but I didn't think-"

"It's not about the photos," you cut in, though your heart clenches remembering them. "It's about what they made me realize."

"Which is?"

"That this isn't fair. To any of us. But especially not to Amelia."

His face falls. "What are you talking about?"

You glance down the hallway, making sure her door is still closed, then move further into the living room. George follows, closing the front door softly.

"She never met her father," you say quietly. "He left when I told him I was pregnant. Said he wasn't ready for a family, for responsibility. Last I heard he was in Australia somewhere."

"YN..."

"She used to ask about him," you continue, voice thick. "When she was younger. Why didn't she have a daddy like other kids? Was it because she wasn't good enough? Did she do something wrong?"

"She was just a baby," George says softly. "It wasn't her fault."

"No, it wasn't. It was mine. For letting someone into her life who could hurt her." You look at him directly. "I won't make that mistake again."

"I'm not him," George steps closer. "I would never-"

"You can't promise that," you cut in. "You can't promise you won't wake up one day and realize this is all too much. The responsibility, the complications, the fact that you're barely twenty-seven and suddenly playing father figure to a five-year-old."

"I'm not playing at anything," he says fiercely. "I love her. I love you both."

"Now you do. But what about in six months? A year? When the novelty wears off and you realize you could have someone without all this baggage?"

"Is that what you think this is?" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "That you're some kind of novelty? That Amelia is baggage?"

"I think you're young and successful and have your whole life ahead of you. And I think one day you'll realize that life could be a lot simpler without us in it."

"You don't get to decide that," he says, voice rising slightly before he catches himself, lowering it again. "You don't get to decide what I want or how I feel."

"I get to decide what's best for my daughter."

"And you think pushing away someone who loves her is what's best?"

"I think..." your voice cracks. "I think protecting her from another heartbreak is what's best. You should have seen her face yesterday, when she thought you might miss her party. The way her whole world dimmed, just at the possibility. I can't... I can't watch her go through that for real."

"Then it's a good thing she won't have to," he steps closer again. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can." He reaches for your hand but you pull back. "YN, please. Look at me."

You shake your head, tears falling now. "I can't risk it. The way she looks at you... she trusts you completely. She loves you so much already."

"And I love her," he insists. "More than I ever thought possible. Do you know what I keep in my wallet? That drawing she did of us, where she put all three of us together and wrote 'my family' at the top. I look at it every day. It's not some game to me."

"George..."

"No, listen to me. I know you're scared. I know you're trying to protect her. But pushing me away isn't the answer. Let me prove to you that I'm not going anywhere."

From down the hall comes a small voice: "Mummy?"

You both freeze as Amelia appears, rubbing her eyes sleepily. The moment she sees George, her whole face lights up.

"George!" she runs to him and he catches her automatically, lifting her up. "You came back!"

The way she clings to him, the natural way he holds her, the absolute trust in her eyes - it makes your heart ache.

"Of course I came back, princess," he says softly, but his eyes are on you. "I'll always come back."

"Promise?" she asks, already drifting back to sleep against his shoulder.

"Promise," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her hair.

You watch them, your chest tight with love and fear and possibility. "I should put her back to bed."

"Let me?" he asks quietly. When you hesitate, he adds, "Please?"

You nod, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

You follow them to her room, watching as he tucks her in with practiced ease, making sure her favorite stuffed car is properly positioned.

"G'night George," she mumbles. "Love you."

"Love you too, princess," he whispers, smoothing her hair back.

Back in the living room, he turns to you. "That's what you're trying to protect her from? Love?"

"I'm trying to protect her from losing it."

"Then stop trying to make her lose it," he says gently. "Stop trying to make us both lose it."

"I'm scared," you admit, voice breaking.

"I know," he steps closer, and this time you don't move away. "But I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you make me."

"She needs stability."

"I know. Let me be that for her. For both of you."

"George..."

"Look at me," he pleads. "Really look at me. Do I look like someone who's going to walk away from this? From her? From you?"

You do look at him - at the sincerity in his eyes, the way he's still oriented toward Amelia's room like he can't help it, the drawing you know is worn at the edges from being taken out of his wallet so often.

"I can't lose you," you whisper. "Either of us."

"Then don't push me away," he reaches for you again, and this time you let him pull you close. "Let me love you both. Let me prove to you that some promises are worth believing in."

And there in the quiet of your flat, with your daughter sleeping peacefully down the hall and George's heart beating steady under your ear, you think maybe he already has.

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liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 90,122 others

yourinstagram Six years ago, you made me a mother. Six years of endless love, racing car stories, messy art projects, and the kind of joy I never knew existed before you. You amaze me every single day with your kindness, your intelligence, and your incredible spirit. The way you see the world, the way you love so fearlessly, the way you make everyone around you smile. You're magic, my darling girl. Happy birthday to my little racer, my best friend, my greatest adventure. Here's to many more years of race car pancakes, LEGO building sessions, and hearing you explain aerodynamics to anyone who'll listen (sorry about that, fellow airplane passengers). I love you more than all the checkered flags in the world. ❤️

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username1 THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL

username2 happy birthday to little amelia !

georgerussell63 Happy birthday to the most amazing co-pilot anyone could ask for ❤️ Can't wait to finish that LEGO car with you today, princess. Love you lots x

kimi.antoneli happy birthday little monster. your present will make your mother cry. you're welcome.

carlossainz55 Feliz cumpleaños pequeña! 🎉 Still waiting for that rematch on the simulator!

lando HAPPY BIRTHDAY MELIA!

username3 the entire paddock loves her i'm crying

mercedesamgf1 Happy birthday to our youngest team member!

username4 yn is the best mama ever, doing it on her own too

username5 GEORGE THIS IS YOUR FAMILY

alex_albon Happy birthday Ames! 🎈 Still using those overtaking tips you gave me

username6 george bonus dad ever

username7 I LOVE THIS FAMILY SM

username8 Happy birthday to F1's favorite little princess

username9 george's comment 🥺 he loves them so much

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The house is finally quiet, scattered remnants of the party everywhere - wrapping paper, balloons, the racing track cake that took you hours to perfect. You're gathering paper plates when you hear George's soft footsteps coming from Amelia's room.

"She's finally asleep," he whispers, leaning against the doorframe. "Had to read the racing manual three times, but she's out."

You can't help but smile. "The manual? Really?"

"Her choice," he grins. "Said she needed to dream about proper racing lines."

"Of course she did." You shake your head fondly, continuing to clean up.

"Hey," he catches your hand gently as you pass. "Leave it. Just... sit with me for a bit?"

You hesitate, but nod, letting him lead you to the couch. You both sit, a careful distance between you that feels wrong after how close you've been these past months.

"She had a good day," you say softly, filling the silence.

"The best," he agrees. "Though I think Kimi might have gone overboard with the simulator."

"Might have? She's going to be impossible to get to school now."

George laughs quietly, then sobers. "YN... can we talk? Really talk?"

Your heart speeds up. "About?"

"Everything. Us. What happened this week. What you're afraid of."

You pull your knees up to your chest, making yourself smaller. "George..."

"Please," he says softly. "I need to understand. I need to know how to fix this."

"It's not about fixing," you say, staring at the birthday banner hanging crooked on the wall. "It's about... reality."

"What reality?"

"The reality that you're 27, successful, with your whole life ahead of you. And I'm..." you gesture vaguely, "complicated."

"You think that's how I see you? As complicated?"

"Isn't it true though? I come with so much... stuff. A child, responsibilities, limitations-"

"Stop," he cuts in, turning to face you fully. "Just... stop. You want to know what I see when I look at you both? I see family. I see home. I see the way Amelia's face lights up when she masters a new racing game. I see the way you scrunch your nose when you're concentrating on work. I see movie nights and pancake mornings and silly dance parties in the kitchen."

"George..."

"No, let me finish. You think you're some burden I'm carrying? You're not. You're the best part of every day. Both of you. Even when Amelia's giving me detailed critiques of my qualifying laps or when you're stress-cleaning at midnight before a deadline."

You feel tears forming. "But your life would be so much simpler without us."

"Simpler?" he laughs incredulously. "My life before you was empty. Sure, I had racing, but I came home to quiet rooms and takeaway for one. Now? Now I come home to crayon drawings on my fridge and LEGO cars in my shoes and two people who make everything better just by existing."

"But what about your career? The traveling, the events..."

"What about them?"

"I saw those photos, George. That world... it's so different from this one."

"You think I care about that world?" he moves closer. "You think I'd choose fancy parties over helping Amelia build racing tracks in the living room? Over watching you fall asleep during movies? Over this?"

"I don't want to hold you back."

"You don't," he says firmly. "You push me forward. Both of you do. Do you know what Amelia said to me tonight? She said we fit together like puzzle pieces. And she's right."

You wipe your eyes. "She's too smart for her own good."

"She gets that from her mum." He reaches for your hand, and this time you let him take it. "I know you're scared. I know you're trying to protect her. But I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you make me."

"I don't want to make you," you whisper. "That's what terrifies me."

"Why?"

"Because..." your voice breaks. "Because I love you. We both do. And if you leave..."

"I won't."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can," he says fiercely. "I can promise that every single day for the rest of our lives if you'll let me. I can promise that I'll always come home to you both. That I'll always be there for school plays and birthdays and random Tuesday mornings. That I'll love you both more each day than the last."

"George..."

"You know what scared me most this week?" he continues. "Not just the thought of losing my girlfriend. The thought of losing my family. Of not hearing Amelia's bedtime stories or your laugh first thing in the morning. Of not being the person she runs to when she masters a new racing game or you turn to when you've had a hard day."

You're fully crying now. "When did you become so important to us?"

"Probably around the same time you became everything to me." He wipes your tears gently. "I love you, YN. Both of you. The busy mornings and quiet nights and everything in between. The complicated parts and the simple ones. All of it."

"Even when Amelia corrects your driving technique?"

He laughs softly. "Especially then. She's usually right anyway."

You lean into him finally, letting yourself feel the familiar comfort of his arms around you. "I'm sorry I pushed you away."

"I know why you did it," he kisses your hair. "But please don't do it again. Talk to me instead. Let me prove to you that some people stay."

"I'm still scared," you admit.

"That's okay," he says. "We can be scared together. Just don't shut me out."

From down the hall comes a small voice: "Mummy? George?"

You both look up to see Amelia standing there, clutching her stuffed race car.

"What's wrong, princess?" George asks.

"I forgot to say thank you," she says seriously. "For the best birthday ever. And..." she looks between you both. "Are you staying? For real this time?"

George looks at you, letting you take the lead.

Looking at them, at the man who loves your daughter like his own and the little girl who's already given him her whole heart - you make your decision.

"Yes, love," you say softly. "He's staying."

And sitting there, with your daughter asleep between you and George holding you both like he'll never let go, you think maybe it's okay to be scared sometimes. Maybe it's okay to let someone in, to trust that they'll stay, to believe in the kind of love that builds homes in hearts.

Because some puzzles are meant to stay together, even if it takes a six-year-old to show you how the pieces fit.

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liked by yourinstagram, alex_albon and 601,299 others

georgerussell63 The best kind of Sunday 🚲❤️ From "I can't do it!" to "Watch how fast I can go!" in under an hour. Couldn't be prouder of my favorite co-pilot. Even if we had a few crashes into the bushes (sorry about that, YN). Worth every scrape and tear for that victory smile at the end. Now she wants to know when we can upgrade to a motorized version... Think that's a conversation for another day

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username1 THIS IS SUCH A PROUD DAD MOMENT

username2 he's protecting her from falling while letting her be brave

username3 george russell: world class driver, even better bonus dad

username4 "My favorite co-pilot" I'M NOT OKAY

username5 the way he naturally stepped into being her dad though 🥺

lewishamilton Next generation driver in training! 🙌🏾

lando should we be worried about our jobs?

yourinstagram Love you both, you troublemakers

username6 GEORGE REALLY IS THE FATHER WHO STEPPED UP

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The garage is a flurry of activity, screens displaying data streams and weather patterns while mechanics rush around with last-minute adjustments. You're deep in conversation with Bono about tire strategies when your phone buzzes with Amelia's FaceTime call.

"Hi baby," you answer, trying to keep one eye on the radar. "Ready for the race?"

"I've got ALL my lucky charms!" She holds up an assortment of trinkets, including the Mercedes keychain George gave her. "And Grandpa's watching with me! He says hi but he's pretending to be grumpy."

You hear your father's distinct grunt in the background and laugh. "Tell him I said-"

"Is that my favorite co-pilot?" George appears behind you, still in his race suit, hair messy from the helmet.

"GEORGE!" Amelia practically screams. "I miss you! Are you going to win today? I told everyone at school you would!"

His face softens in that way it only does for her. "Well, now I have to, don't I? Can't disappoint my biggest fan."

"I drew you a new good luck picture! Mummy has it!"

You pull the slightly crumpled paper from your pocket - a detailed drawing of a Mercedes car with "GO GEORGE!" written in wobbly letters.

"It's perfect," he beams. "Just what I needed."

"Mummy says it's going to rain," Amelia says seriously. "Remember what we practiced about wet weather racing?"

"Smooth inputs, gentle throttle, stay off the kerbs," George recites dutifully. "Did I pass the test?"

"Mmhmm. You can race now."

You both laugh at her solemn approval.

"Thanks, princess. Better go get ready now, okay? Watch out for me on the podium."

"Love you George! Love you Mummy!"

"Love you too, baby. Be good for Grandpa."

After you hang up, you notice George hasn't moved, still staring at the spot where Amelia's face had been.

"George? You okay?"

He seems to make a decision, turning to face you fully. "Move in with me."

Your heart stops. "What?"

"Both of you. Move in with me." His eyes are intense, certain. "The summer break is coming up. I've already been looking at furniture for Amelia's room, there's this racing car bed I found that she'd love, and the spare room would be perfect for your home office, and-" he stops, running a hand through his hair. "I know it's fast, but it doesn't feel fast, does it? It feels like we should have done this ages ago."

"George..."

"I hate coming home to an empty house," he continues. "I hate not hearing Amelia's morning chatter or your late-night typing. I hate that my fridge doesn't have her drawings on it, that my shelves don't have your books mixed with my racing magazines. I hate that when I buy groceries, I automatically get things for three people but there's only me there to eat them."

You glance around the garage, but everyone is deliberately focusing elsewhere, giving you privacy in the midst of chaos.

"The house is too big," he says softly. "Too quiet. Too... not you. Not us."

"Are you sure?" your voice barely a whisper. "This is a big step."

"I've never been more sure of anything." He takes your hands. "I want to wake up to Amelia jumping on our bed demanding pancakes. I want to fall asleep watching you work on race strategies. I want to build that LEGO city she's been planning in the spare room she already thinks of as hers. I want... I want everything. With both of you."

A mechanic calls out the five-minute warning.

"You need to go," you say, but don't let go of his hands.

"I need an answer more."

You look at him, this man who loves your daughter like his own, who makes you both feel safe, who wants to build a home with you.

"The racing car bed better be amazing," you whisper.

His face breaks into that brilliant smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You squeeze his hands. "Now go win this race so we can celebrate properly."

He starts to walk away, then turns back. "YN?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you. Both of you. So much."

You smile, feeling something settle in your chest. "We love you too. Now focus on the race, or Amelia will never let you hear the end of it."

"Yes ma'am," he grins, pulling his helmet on.

You watch him walk to the car, your heart full. Outside, the Belgian sky opens up with rain, but for once, you're not worried about the weather.

And as George's car roars to life, as Amelia undoubtedly bounces with excitement on your couch at home (soon to be your old couch in your new home) you think about puzzle pieces and racing car beds and the way love builds itself into something permanent when you're not looking.

The race is about to start, but really, you think, the best part is just beginning.

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

Your Love | Lando Norris

pairing: Lando Norris x best friend reader, female reader!

genre: fluff, tiny bit angst, friends-to-lovers

warnings: none

wc:4.5k

summary: You were in love with your best friend but you needed to move on. How could you, when you looked for him in every guy?

What did you know about love? You’d always ask yourself that question.

You’d like to believe that you knew all about love, the big grand gestures, the flowers, the dates, the physicality of it all. You’ve experienced it. Or you’d like to think so.

“Another failed date then?” Lando asked as soon as you got into the passenger seat of his car. You were drenched, soaking wet due to the pouring rain. It was a brutal London winter, but then again, weren't they all?

Your clothes were soaked to the bone and clung to you like second skin. You shivered as your ice cold fingers grasped the handle and shut the door. The car, a cosy shelter from the storm outside. 

“What gave it away?” You huffed out as he turned up the heater. Only then you notice the state of him. His usual curly haired mullet was in his favourite beanie, with his logo on it. He was in a pair of grey joggers and a black hoodie that said ‘hot commodity’ in bold white letters.

“Oh no, have I interrupted your nap time?” you felt bad. Here you were, soaking up his leather seats that smelt strongly of him after you called him in an act of desperation, from the restaurant bathroom.

“You could say that” he smirked, turning off into the next lane, on your way back to your apartment. Your face contorted, grimacing at his comment. 

He was with a girl. Probably the instagram model he’s been texting and bragging to you about.

“Gross Lando, tell me you did not leave some stranger in your apartment” you groaned, running a hand across your face. You watched as he rolled his eyes playfully, a lazy grin on his face.

“No.. I ordered her an uber black and waved her goodbye 10 minutes before you called, because I knew you would” he shrugged his shoulders as he made another smooth turn into the road.

You knew it was very niche but you found it incredibly sexy, the way Lando drove. So effortlessly, so confident that he didn’t even need to use both hands as he leaned back comfortably in his seat. His fingers were loose around the steering wheel, his silver ring catching your eye every few seconds.

“What do you mean you knew?” You wanted to be offended but his words held so much truth it was almost shocking. 

You always called him to pick you up and he always came. No matter how busy he was, whether it be racing in different parts of the world, or having unsanitary relations with another girl, he always made room for you in his life.

“Come on darling, you know I’m right…You can't even be offended by it” he chuckled, his chest rumbling with the sound.

He was right and you hated it.

“You didn't have to come, you know” You crossed your arms across your chest with your legs one on top of the other. 

“Dont get upset now” he taunted with a cheeky grin.

“I’m not upset” you denied but you could barely keep the humiliation from your tone. You spoke in a small voice with shivery lips. You were upset, but not with him. 

With yourself.

How were you ever supposed to find a guy if you kept looking for him in every one of them? How were you supposed to move on to the next person when you keep calling Lando to come rescue you.

To be honest, you didn't even need rescuing tonight. Your date was perfectly vetted by your sister and was deemed perfect for you by your mother. And he was the perfect gentleman.

But, he didn't laugh at your ridiculous jokes or Jennifer Coolidge impression. He didn't find your take on motorsport enduring, nor did he even enjoy watching it. He liked rugby but you didn't understand the rules of the game.

He was perfect in every way, except the ways that mattered.

“What are you doing?” You noticed the familiar apartment building, his instead of yours. The tall high rise building looked daunting from down here in the car.

“We’re hanging out?” he looked confused as he spoke, turning off the car and removing the key from the ignition.

“I thought we were going to my place…I need a shower” you frowned as you felt the cold seeping back up your spine.

“Yeah, my apartment has one” he shrugged, looking even more confused at your seemingly ridiculous statement.

“I need clothes”

“You can wear mine” He offered.

You didn't miss the way your heart jumped when he said that, nor when he just assumed you’d shower at his place. Granted, you’ve done it many times before without any issue.

“I’m not staying the night though” you stated.

“Why not?” 

Lando looked offended and genuinely confused as if the concept was foreign to him.

“I have a meeting in the morning” you answered with a small chuckle in your throat.

“I can take you” he offered quickly.

“Lando” You laughed at his insistence. You laughed so you could drown out the sound of your heart beating in your ears and prayed that your cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.

“Just say you hate me”

“Dont be dramatic” You rolled your eyes at his antics. Lando, in any given room, would be voted as the most dramatic one there. 

“You act like it's such an inconvenience” He continued shifting in his seat.

“The meeting’s across town and you hate early mornings, especially during your breaks”

You wanted to be considerate, let him sleep in and enjoy his break before going back to the hectic schedule of being an F1 driver.

“Y/n, you're staying.” He declared with a finality in his tone, leaving no room for negotiation.

 You wanted to protest but it was tradition. He’d pick you up from your measly attempt at moving on and then you’d spend the rest of the night trash talking with a bag of chips and ice cream.

If things were really bad, he’d let you paint his nails a colour other than clear (you'd always choose the most vibrant pink) and maybe do some clay masks.

In a perfect world, you’d finish the night wearing white fluffy robes with cucumber slices covering your eyes. 

It was routine and maybe that was the problem. 

You were too addicted to him to care that it was toxic. He was bad for you, but why did it feel so good being around him?

Being around Lando felt like the weight of the world melted off your shoulders, it felt like sinking into a warm bath, comfortable and relaxing.

Being around Lando was as comfortable and natural as breathing. You didn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing because he’d say something even worse.

You didn't have to worry about brushing your hair because he’d do it for you, claiming it was soothing for him even though he struggled to get all your hair in a ponytail.

By the time you were dry and in warm clothes, New girl was on and Lando was lounging on the couch, blanket draped over his lower body. His legs were stretched out in front of him, the episode paused as he waited for you to finish in the shower.

“You could've started you know” you murmured as you made your way to the couch. You got down next to him, pulling the blanket to cover yourself, a shield from the cold air in the apartment.

“I was waiting for you”

The simple sentence shouldn't make your heart skip 10 beats but it does. It does more than that when he moves closer muttering about not getting the ac fixed.

You were in a comfortable position when he laid his head on your lap, maneuvering the blanket so it wasn't in his face but still covering the both of you before he pressed play.

Your fingers wove its way through his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way you knew he liked. It was routine, natural even.

He always made you scratch his head while he laid on your lap and he always  fell asleep even when he promised not to.

“Why do you think tonight went bad?” Lando turned his body, flat on his back looking up at you.

You noticed a stray eyelash that laid on his cheek, innocent and undisturbed. You were tempted to run your thumb across his smooth skin, to blow and make a wish. But instead, you just leaned closer and blew it away.

“Eww you muppet, what was that for?” Lando brought a hand up to his face to wipe it dramatically. You giggled.

“There was a lash” you smiled.

“You’ve always been jealous of my lashes” He calmed down, stilling in your presence. Your eyes lingered on his, those lush green pools always pulled you in. Drowning you with their sincerity and grace.

When he looked at you, you felt honored almost, to be under his gaze. To be graced with such a force of love and admiration- it was unbearable. Your eyes trinkled to his full lashes, long and lushes. It’s true, you were jealous.

His eyebrows were full and shapely, it was unfair. You stopped your movements on his scalp earning a nudge from him, prompting you to continue.

“Anyway” You rolled your eyes, trying not to focus on the way your pulse beats to the rhythm of his breathing, low and comfortable. You were always comfortable with him.

“Yeah, anyway “ he mocked your tone and you playfully shoved at his chest.

“I don't know why tonight went horrible, he was the perfect gentleman” The practiced words bubbled out of your mouth like a waterfall. You always said that about every guy you dated.

“Come on, you always say that. If he was a gentleman, why’d you hide out in the restroom?” 

“I don't know” You denied, your voice rising an octave higher.

“You wanna know what I think?” Lando said in a tone that suggested intelligence but you knew better.

“No, but you’ll tell me anyway” 

“I think you’re afraid of what might happen, when you get out of your comfort zone and let someone in”

“I date, I let people in” you defended.

“You’re like an onion, even before they get to the first layer, you bolt” he said, earning a scoff from you. 

“And you’re the expert on dating, right?”

“Im an expert on you”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words. You wished he wouldn't say things like that. Things that made you swoon and wish things were different.

“Oh wow, if you’re such an expert why haven't I dated anyone for more than 3 months?” You challenged, recovering quickly with an arched brow.

“I don't know, you’re really fussy”

“I’m fussy? Says the one who won't eat something if it’s been near a fish or not your favourite milk brand”

“I like what I like” he defended, dramatically placing a hand on his chest.

“Yeah and so do I” you said.

“You know what? Let’s go on a double date and I’ll tell you if tonight’s flavour of the week is worth pursuing”

“Flavour of the week?”

“Yeah, you’re like a 3 day free trial, he has 3 days to impress you before you bolt”

“Stop, that's not true” you laughed out loud.

“Okay then prove it, we’ll go out next week and if you still feel like bolting, I’ll be right next to you” Lando smiled up at you.

His smile was your favourite thing about him. It was distracting and yet it was all you could ever focus on in the moment.

“Do you even have a date?” You asked, watching him scoff. 

“Please, that's a stupid question” he rolled his eyes playfully before turning back on his side. He got comfortable again, placing a hand under his ear before reaching for the remote to increase the volume.

He was the Nick to your Jess. Maybe the Schmidt to your Nick would be more accurate.You weren't sure but he was definitely more than a ‘something’ to you.

Your mind raced with the thought of going on a double date with him. It won't be a date with him but it’s really close to one. Sure you’ll both be there with other people but it still makes your heart race and your palms sweat just thinking about it

Your stomach was in knots, bundles of anxiety and nerves threatened to combust under the weight of this potential date.

*

“Stop fussing over your dress, you look great” Lando said as you took a seat alongside him.

“Why’d you have to pick such an expensive restaurant?” you groaned, pulling down at your dress.

The restaurant in question was very high end, silverware, fancy spoons that you couldn't tell the difference between, but was sure it had different functions.

The lighting made you question if its source was directly from the sun or a special kind of electricity because wow, you did not like the way you looked under this lighting.

Or maybe you just didn't like feeling like you were under a microscope for everyone to see.The classical music that played between conversations did nothing to calm your nerves.

“What’d you mean? If he’s broke then he can't afford you. You’re accustomed to a certain lifestyle” Lando smirked, almost proud of himself.

He looked handsome…. He always did but tonight in particular. His curls were in their usual unruly yet effortless state, falling gracefully. He decided to go for a smart casual look and his cologne did something to you every time you breathed him in.

“Oh and you can?”

“I paid for those nails, didn't I? Your hair as well, which looks beautiful by the way” You blushed at his words.

“You didn't have to”

“I do a lot of things I don't have to”

“Our friendship is not a transaction you know” you fiddled with your dress again.

“I never said it was” He frowned. “Stop fussing over the bloody dress yn” his words were now laced with irritation and annoyance.

“I can't help it” you bit your lip, bringing it between your teeth before quickly remembering you were wearing lipstick.

“Why are you so nervous, you’ve met this guy before. What's the deal?” His features softened as his voice lowered.

“Nothing… I just want him to like me”

“Of course he’ll like you. What's not to like? You’re smart, beautiful…you speak your mind and you’re a mclaren fan so you're obviously smart”

“Im a Lando fan” you correct him before you could even think about your words.

He smiled, his gaze lingering a bit too long on your face. You felt heat creeping from your neck to your cheeks and up to your ears. You were flustered, warm under his gaze. Your skin was on fire, sizzling under your dress like a spark waiting to be ignited.

By the time your dates arrived you'd already had 2 glasses of red wine while Lando wanted to stay sober for the drive home.

The introductions went fairly well and while you were pleasant with his date,Hailey she was a bit of a brat. You ignored the way she judged your outfit and cut you off for most of the night, glaring at you any time Lando spoke to you.

“How do you say this?” he leaned over to show you the menu, pointing to a suspiciously long word. You didn't miss the glare from Hailey, the eyeroll and the dramatic way she lapped at her glass of red.

“Erh” your eyes quickly skimmed through the tiny description underneath “Its fish stew, you wont eat it” you shook your head watching as he frowned, most probably disgusted.

“Not a fan of fish?” Jake, your date questioned placing his menu on the table, having decided what to order.

“Nah, hate it” Lando chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

“What do you have against fish man?” Jake asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he put his elbows on the table.

“Just don't like it” Lando answered shortly.

“Seems kind of childish” Jake said.

You frowned at his words, unprovoked and unnecessary. The bundle of nerves began to tighten in your stomach again, your leg bounced under the table.

“Lots of people don't like fish” you jumped in, peering at Jake above the rim of your now empty glass. The sweet taste of wine still lingered on your tongue, warming up your body from the inside as you swallowed the last sip.

“Yeah mate, what’s your problem?” Lando asked awkwardly. You could tell he was a little offended at the insinuation.

“I don't have a problem” He answered with the shake of his head, almost as if to say ‘get a load of this guy’ 

“So, Hailey, you’re a model, how’d you get into that?” You smiled at the girl, attempting to change the subject and bring the tension levels down. You heard Lando let out a breath beside you.

“There’s no story, I’m pretty, so I model” she shrugged her shoulders with a bored expression. Almost as if your question was an inconvenience.

“Okay then” You nodded.

“What do you do Y/n?” Jake smiled at you.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, Lando beat you to it.

“Shouldnt you know that already?” Lando arched a brow “It’s a second date” he continued, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah and I’m getting to know her” Jake held a confused expression, taken aback by his direct words.

“On the second date, you don't know what she does? What’d you two talk about on the first?” 

“You seem an awful lot concerned about our date, why don't you focus on yours?” Jake’s eyes were almost accusing as he shot daggers at Lando.

Your hands felt clammy as you wished for the waiter to arrive so you could order.

“I’m just saying” Lando raised his hands in surrender.

“Anyone want more wine?” you smiled nervously biting the inside of your cheek.

“So, I hear you don't like motorsport?” Lando leaned back in his seat, his arm going to rest on the back of your chair. You sighed.

Jake eyed the way Lando’s arm rested on the back of your chair but chose to say nothing. 

“What’s there to like? It’s just cars driving around in circles” He shrugged his shoulders with an awkward chuckle before taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s a lot more than that” Lando protested, tensing up at his answer.

“Yeah? If that's your cup of tea then by all means” Jake answered.

“It is, y/n likes it…so you should give it a try” 

“Hard pass” he shut down the idea.

“It’s okay, you don't have to” you attempted to keep the peace.

“Dont you think you should at least try to learn the interests of someone you’re dating?” Lando was not backing down. “ I mean, you barely knew what she did for a living 2 seconds ago”

“God forbid I take one second to feel something instead of googling her LinkedIn.” Jake hits back hard.

You gave Lando a look that said ‘shut up’ in all caps.You balled your hands under the table, looking at Hailey but she was clearly no help at all. She was busy scrolling on her phone, uninterested and unbothered at what was happening.

“You’re a funny bloke” Lando chuckled humorlessly.

“Yeah mate, what’s your problem?” Jake asked.

“I don't have a problem” 

“Yeah? So just a stick up your arse then?”

“Jake” you found yourself warning him.

“No, Y/n…he’s been an absolute dick since I got here” 

“You wouldn't even be here, if I hadn't convinced her to give you another shot”

“Okay well this date is over” Jake declared.

“What? No you don't have to leave” You heart dropped to the floor.

“I do, call me when your bodyguard has a day off” Jake stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor, echoing through the restaurant.

You watched as he opened his wallet, threw some money on the table and then gave you a final nod before leaving.

You were fuming by the time you exited the restaurant, tears threatened to fall as they welled up in your eyes. You couldn't believe how horribly that went. You don't know what you expected but it definitely wasn't that.

“Y/n” You heard Lando fast approaching as you stood outside the restaurant. You were trying to order an uber back to your place. You definitely didn't want to be in a car with him.

You ignored him, your fingers trembled with anger and humiliation as you typed and fondled with your phone. The wind tickled and nipped at your legs, your hair blew slightly, obscuring your vision before you roughly tucked it behind your ear.

“Go away” you said, on the verge of tears, your voice trembled through the sound of passing cars.

“Y/n I’m sorry”

“Leave me alone Lando” You didn't want to cry but you felt too embarrassed and for what? You didn't even like Jake, you just wanted to not like Lando anymore. 

To not be so obsessed with a man you’ll never get to have.

“No, please…hear me out” he was desperate as he reached for your arm. You flinched, ripping it out of his grasp. You could see the hurt that glossed over his face but you didn't care.

“Okay, talk” your words were sharp as you blinked away your tears.

“I didn't like him, he was a dick all night”

You couldn't help the scoff that left your throat at his words. You would rather listen to the sound of traffic than to hear his excuses right now. You were so mad, anger flooded your veins as you stood before him.

“No, you were. You had an opinion about everything… You couldn't just let it be?”

“No, I couldn't. Come on he didn't even know what you did for a living nor did he care” Lando’s hair blew in the wind and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through his curls.

“So what Lando!” You exclaimed, your anger and frustration gripped at your throat. “Like you knew everything about your date?” You accused, pointing a finger back to the restaurant.

“I knew everything I needed to” 

“Yeah? Like what?” your arms folded across your chest. “She’s not you”

You blinked. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of you with one subtle blow. His words echoed in your head like a chant, bouncing from one ear to the other.

“What?” Your words were barely a whisper as your eyes searched for some sort of indicator that he was messing with you. You hoped for a playful glint or a small grin, or even for him to say ‘just kidding’

“I came on this stupid double date to see who I’m up against, but really? That bloke? That's what you're into?”

“Lando” You couldn't find the strength to be offended at his statement. Your mind was still reeling from his ‘ she’s not you’ statement. You weren't sure if you’d recover from it, really.

“He doesn't know you the way I do and I hope he never gets the chance to” 

“You cant…you can't say things like that” You scrambled for words, a hand on your chest to slow your rapidly beating heart. You felt like it could explode onto the pavement. You felt dizzy or maybe it's because he was standing so close to you now.

When did he get so close? 

Your palms were sweating and you were pretty sure your make up was melting under the heat of his pleading gaze. A gaze that was so sincere and loving and kind, it was overwhelming.

“Why not? I love you…I am in love with you and I don't wanna ever live in a world where I don't know what it's like to love you...to experience you”

“Lando…” Your voice trembled and you couldn't find the words to say. Your mind was blank. His confession played in your mind like a never ending loop.

“I know this isn't what you expected but please…just say something else” there was a hint of humour as he chuckled softly between words.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me you’re in love with me…. Tell me I didn't just ruin our friendship” he pleaded, hesitantly bringing a hand up to cup your face.

If your face was on fire before, you didn't know how to describe the burning sensation now. His touch was electric, addicting, a drug you never wanted to let go of. You wanted him to consume you until there was nothing left but him.

You felt the world tilt and pause, then rewind and restart again. You were going through the motions of a 2000’s romcom. The dramatic confession, the public setting, all you were missing now was the kiss in the rain.

“I love you too” You words came like a gentle breeze, soft and delicate against the skin. 

You watched as his eyes lit up like a christmas tree and his smile widened. The very same smile you fell in love with the moment you met him.

“Yeah? You’re not just saying that cause I said it right?” 

“No you idiot, I wouldn't do that”

“Im just checking you muppet”

“Just shut up and kiss me Lando” you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, okay, you want me so bad” he grinned.

You laughed at his words, the sound quickly dying on his lips when he pressed his against yours. Kissing Lando felt nothing like you imagined….nothing could ever compare to the way his lips felt so velvety against your, soft and delicate..almost too good to be true.

He pulled you closer, your hands tightened around the collar of his shirt, bringing him flush against your chest. He held you tightly, arms wrapped around your waist, locking you in place as you felt his heart beat against yours with a beat that mirrored each other.

You felt the tingle of magic and butterflies floating around. Everything else fell away like dominoes until it was just him you felt, like your mind and soul were finally connecting in one single kiss. 

“I’m so in love with you” he mumbled against your lips. You smiled.

“Really? I didn't know that” you pulled apart with a grin.

“I told you like 2 seconds ago and you forgot?” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I felt loved from the minute I met you”

“Oh my god you're so cheesy” he taunted.

“Oh really? Mister ‘I don't wanna live in a world where I don't know what it's like to love you’?” you mocked his earlier words.

“That was some of my best work ” he defended.

“Okay Shakespeare” you scoffed, amused.

“Who’s that?” he questioned on the trek back to the valet. You walked hand in hand, excitement coursed through you as the world faded behind you.

You never needed to question whether or not you knew love. 

You knew Lando.

Lando was love personified and he was yours.

Your love..Your Lando.

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

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Thank you for being here. Truly.

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

Made a nifty graphic. Ik yall think im begging for comments, but im actually being selfish as hell rn 🥲

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[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

All is fair in love & dogs | Charles Leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x gf reader! platonic grussell x reader

summary: After feeling unexpectedly sidelined by Charles’ priorities, you're not above being a little petty.

warning: none genre: fluff wc: 2459

a/n: this was heavily inspired by a scene in modern family haha

Comfort and bliss, that was your lifestyle.

You were in a constant state of relaxation, lounging on your couch, the Monaco sun hitting your apartment just right, heating and lighting up the spacious room. The golden rays glare through floor length windows, hitting your plants and flowers that cover the terrace with grace.

You were in your favourite lounge wear outfit, light and airy box shorts that caressed your skin nicely, fitting every curve and the dip of your waist and thighs. Your tank top was a red ferrari one with the number 16 on it.

Charles was always proud to see you strutting his number. He felt honoured and lucky to have you as his girlfriend. Or so you and the rest of the world believed. But up until yesterday, it was made very clear that you came 3rd in his life.

His list of priorities went:

F1 

Leo

Girlfriend

You did not take the demotion lightly.

 In fact, you couldn't help the scowl that adorned your face as you watched the little dog sleep peacefully in his custom made bed, in the corner of the living room. Basking blissfully in the sunlight.

Were you jealous of a dog? No, never.

What you felt was much worse as you declared war with the adorable puppy, who now occupied your space in Charles' heart.

“Babe” Charles walked into the livingroom, shirtless- dressed only in boxer shorts and flip flops. It was evident by the rubbing of his eyes, his bed hair and gravelly voice, that he’s just woken up from a peaceful slumber in the guest room.

Normally, you’d take your time ogling him, you would've already made a comment on his physique, from his messy hair down to his feet, you were usually all over him. But not today. 

Which was unfortunate because the way the sun hit his tanned skin made him look like a glorified donut. Glistening and delicious.

“Baby” he calls again but you ignore him, continuing your doomscroll on instagram, enjoying the sun that kissed your skin, heating up your smooth legs while you relax. The tv played f1 highlights but it was on mute, an effort to enhance your tranquility.The couch felt plush under your body, like it was made just for you.

“Y/N” Charles said with a little more urgency this time and a little frustration by the lack of acknowledgement.

“What?” you finally looked at him, giving him the attention he so craved from you. You knew you were being petty but you couldn't help it. 

“Oh now you’ve heard me?” He walked over to the couch, stopping at the end, blocking the sunlight as he towered over you. His eyes held a sharp resemblance of annoyance and desperation.

“I thought you were talking to Leo” you scrolled on your phone, your tone dry and nonchalant. 

“Mon amour, I said I was sorry” he groaned, running a hand across his face. He made it his mission to get up in your personal space when he dropped  down next to you, throwing his arm across your waist, bringing you in closer. 

His bare chest was warm against your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. His light stubble tickled you slightly as he did so.

“Go away” you shoved him lightly, a weak attempt at getting out of his grasp.

“Y/n” he grumbled, moving closer as you’ve increased the distance between you two. He wanted to breathe you in until you were all he could smell. From your shampoo to your perfume, he wanted to breathe it in until his lungs memorized the scent.

Your body unwound when he placed soft kisses on your shoulder, traveling up to your neck and ear. “You’re being annoying” your breath hitched when he grazed the shell of your ear with his teeth, feeling his lips on your skin long after he’s pulled away.

A spark of excitement coursed through your body, a natural response to him being this close, kissing you with a tenderness that felt too good to be true. Charles has always been big on affection, he didn't care where he was, if he wanted to kiss you, hold your hand or hold you close, he would.

He did it in a way that was never suffocating and never enough. Your body craved his so much it was as natural to you as breathing.

“I’m going out later” You announced as he rested his head on your shoulder, watching your screen..

“Where to?” His minty fresh breath was on your neck, warm and ghostly.

“George’s asked me to go shopping with him” you uttered shortly, feeling as his body tensed up next to yours.

“Shopping with George? Why?” he pulled back, your body instantly missing his warmth. The way he said his name with such distaste is amusing, considering how close they were.

“So you and the love of your life can have some alone time today” you teased with a smile to let him know you’re not completely serious.

“Amour, arrête, j'ai dit que j'étais désolé” 

(love, stop, i said I was sorry)

“I heard you” You singsong just to annoy him further.

“Wait, you’re going like that?” He gestured to your outfit, looking you up and down, watching you rise from the couch.

“What's wrong with my outfit?” Your brows furrowed at his words. Charles was anything but an insecure man, especially when it came to what you wore. As long as you were comfortable, he didn't care what you wore, in his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman in the world. 

The kind of beauty that Shakespeare wrote sonnets about, the kind that artists made statues and paintings of. You were the colour to every blank canvas. 

Charles never let you forget how beautiful you were to him.

“Its a bit décolleté, no?” (revealing) His accent was always thick when he spoke in his native language but even more so when he spoke English. 

You loved it. Everything he said sounded so exotic and excited every cell in your body.

“No” You said shortly, shaking your head, ending the conversation.

“Dont wait up” you added sweetly, swinging your handbag on your shoulder.

“Dont wait up? Baby it's 11 am, where will you be that late?” he exclaimed. You were already out the door when he called after you.

George’s text couldn't have come at a better time. You were close friends with his girlfriend and he needed help in picking out a birthday gift for her. Of course you were game to help him, after all - you actually liked the both of them.

It was so easy being George’s friend. Sure Charles was a grump about you leaving to shop with him but as far as you’re concerned, he didn't need to be. You didn't put Charles 3rd in your life, he was second. 

The list went : 

Career

Boyfriend.

And then obviously your family of course, but he was never third. You knew you were being stupid and petty but you enjoyed seeing him a little miserable. Was that bad to say? It sure sounded like it was.

“After I spent half a day getting ready for the gala, make up done, dress on, hair finished..I saved his dog from drowning in that stupid pool and he had the audacity to get the dog a towel and not me?” You exclaimed with an enthusiasm that had George gasping for air as you strolled through the mall.

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he reached up to wipe them away.

You had an ice cream cup in your hand, melting as you spoke, explaining the whole situation. The mall was packed with people. You'd swear there was a Taylor swift concert nearby. 

“That’s so messed up” George laughed, earning looks from people passing you by. 

“Right? I can't fault him though Leo’s a cute dog but come on” You expressed dramatically between scoops of ice cream, the taste of chocolate melting on your tongue. 

You walked in a comfortable rhythm with the tall blue eyed man beside you. George towered beside you, acting like a shield to the eyes and judgement of teenage girls. 

“So I take it he’s still on the outs?” He asked with a cheeky grin, looking down at you.

“Yes, what do you think?”

“Sucks to be him right now” His english accent was a breath of fresh air, almost foreign to the one you were used to hearing.

The rest of the shopping trip you spent a few minutes getting gifts for your friend, teaching George the ins and outs of what not to do in a relationship. You were pretty sure he’d forget everything by the time he gets home, but you’re hoping that the wisdom you’ve imparted today would stick to at least 1 brain cell of his.

*

The moment you crossed the threshold into the apartment you knew something was up. The tv no longer glared highlights through the screen, the sound replaced with the hum of the fridge and the gentle breeze that wafted through the open sliding door. 

It was too quiet, vacant from the usual barking and constant profanities hurled at Charles’s monitor as he played his games. 

You walked further into the apartment, placing the shopping bags down on the kitchen counter. Even though you were mad at him, you still remembered that he needed a few things from the mall. You were petty, not inconsiderate, you knew he wouldn't have time to get those things himself, or he’d forget to.

“Charles?” You called, your voice almost an intrusion to the void.

“Out here, mon amour” his voice came from outside.

Curious, you made your way towards the sliding door. You almost gasped at the scene before you, an instant smile danced on your face as you took everything in.

The golden afternoon sun spilled across the terrace, painting everything in a warm, honeyed hue.The breeze brought an air of salty sea water and the waves that crashed fell into the background. The plants were a glossy green,complimenting the vibrant pink and yellow colours of the flowers you’ve grown, their petals swaying gently in the wind.

And nestled between all of that was Charles.

He’s changed into a new pair of soft grey shorts and a fitted black tee that clung just enough to hint at the lines of his chest. His curls were neater than they’d been this morning, tamed just enough.The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, warm and woodsy, a comfort you didn’t realize you’d missed all day.

The table was set simply but thoughtfully, your favorite flowers gathered in a short vase. A single candle flickered stubbornly, its flame bending with breeze but refusing to die. Two tall glasses of orange juice stood beside a silver-domed plate, beads of condensation clinging to the glass.

“What is this?” you murmured, barely hiding your smile, surprised but mostly impressed at how quickly he put this together.

“This is me restoring the balance” Charles smiled as he gestures to the table, getting up to move your seat so you could sit down. “And maybe apologizing once again” he let out a cheeky grin.

You rolled your eyes playfully, tucking your hair behind your ear. You sat down taking in the scene.Charles took the seat in front of you, happy that you're entertaining and complying with him.

“Hmmmm, what’s this?” you asked tapping the lid of the covered plate. Butterflies filled your stomach, excitement rising with each flap of their wings that beat against your rib cage.

“Pancakes…” he removed the top to reveal a stack of pancakes, with strawberries and whipped cream in the shape of a heart 

“Also known as the only thing I can make without burning” he added.

“Charles…it’s amazing” you gushed, your smile wide and your heart threatening to burst out of your chest.

“Amazing enough to be forgiven?” he asked  with a hopeful grin with his elbows on the table, leaning forward.

“Hmmm” you pretend to think , tapping your perfectly manicured finger against your chin.

“Will Leo still sleep in the bed with us?” 

“Yes…know your place” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes, amused at how quickly he answered. He’s very strict when it came to cuddle time with Leo. You knew not to try your luck there.

“You’re forgiven” you relented, sighing dramatically, allowing him to take your hand in his and place a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“I should make you sleep in the guest bedroom more often” you mused with an arched brow.

“Never again, my back is killing me. We need to replace the mattress”

“Speaking of sleeping, where is my competition?” you couldn't help but notice Leo’s absence.

“No one could ever compete with you mon amour, you have my heart”

It was hard not to be overwhelmed with happiness when he said things like that. Your heart beat a little faster in your chest and your hands became a little clammy. You felt the heat travel up from your neck and deposit on your cheeks, colouring them a shade of pink.

You never stood a chance against him and his dimples. A deadly combination for everyone involved.

“And you have mine, always”

Charles leaned forward from his seat, eyes soft and searching. You met him halfway, your lips finding his in a kiss that felt both familiar and brand new. It was warm and unhurried. 

His lips tasted faintly of orange juice and something sweeter. You lingered there, just long enough to feel him melt a little under your touch, before pulling away, the ghost of the kiss still tingling on your lips.

“So…how was shopping with George?” Charles smirked when he sat back down and leaned back in his seat.

“Why? What did he tell you?” your brow arched, getting ready to dig into your half burnt pancakes. You drenched them in chocolate syrup, dipping the strawberries before forking them over to Charles.

Even though he had his own, you always felt the need to share. It was the way you showed your love. 

One of many other ways.

“Just that you’re very dramatic” Charles barked out a laugh. “And that I should watch my back.”

“He’s not wrong” you shrugged with a mischievous smile. “I do have a tendency to keep my enemies close.”

“Amour…” he grinned, leaning over the table. “Are we enemies again?”

“Not tonight” you whispered as your foot slid up his leg beneath the table. “But don’t get too comfortable.”

Charles chuckled, leaning back with a glint in his eye.

And just like that, peace is restored.

***

☕ If you enjoy my writing and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee here: coffee (or just send love — that’s always free!)

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

hi hello this is my formal request for a part two of mistakes & mischief please (only if you feel so inclined ofc, don’t write anything you don’t want to write! but just know that if you considering it. i’d absolutely read it) 🫶🫶🫶

Hiii!!

Thanks so much for reaching out, its always good to hear people actually enjoy what I write💛 .

Mistakes and Mischief was only supposed to be a 1 part piece not a series haha but I'll consider your request😊.

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

Party Boy

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: Language

wc:3364

Summary: Summer, yacht and cocktails. What could go wrong between two friends who occasionally kiss?

The sun is high in the sky, scorching and bright with the summer heat, rays that dance on your skin, covering you in a layer of shimmer from head to toe. The water is crystal clear, refreshing and cool, the smell of salt lingers in your nose.

The music pumps through your ears as you nod to the beat, a cold cocktail sweating in your perfectly manicured hand. 

“Vacation babyyyy” Carlos exclaimed, his accent thick and heavy as he came onto the deck, grinning and half swaying like he’s already drunk on sunshine and beer.

It was your idea for some of the drivers and friends to get together- at least once during the summer break. A chance to unwind and enjoy each other outside of the pressure of competing. It was Lewis who offered his yacht and Lando offered to DJ.

You’re stretched out on a beach chair, dressed in your pastel yellow bikini and sunglasses perched on your nose as you try to catch a tan. Kelly and Alex had a similar idea and decided to join you, keeping you company as you watch from a distance, the guys and some girls you don't care to know, dance, swaying their hips to the booming music. You had to admit, Lando had some taste when it came to music.

“So..Which one do you think it is?” Alex sips her drink, watching and observing the swarm of people dancing on the open sea.

“Which one what is?” Kelly sits up in her chair, peering at us over her sunglasses. Her blonde hair tied up out of her face, emphasising her defined cheek bones. She’s beautiful, dressed in a black one piece while Alex opted to wear a white cotton cover up over her red bikini.

“The one that gets Lewis Hamilton tonight” she smirks, and all your attention gathers on one girl in particular. Lewis laughs at something she said, throwing his head back in amusement, his teeth on full display before he sips on his cold beer, eyes zeroing in on her mouth. The girl is absolutely stunning, a vision in a bikini. Long tanned legs, heels that you wouldn't dare try walking in and hair styled to perfection. 

She looks like she walked out of a Love Island episode.

“She’s definitely a top contender. She made him laugh…she gets points for that” You shrug your shoulders, now leaning on your elbow as you watch the rest of the guys. You didn't see Lando yet but Max, Daniel and Charles were betting on who could jump the furthest in the water. They all have a different variety of swim trunks on, ranging from flamingoes to pineapple print. It was cute.

“Maybe we should invite her over, she looks fun” Alex comments, looking to you girls for agreement. 

The sun is really beating down on your skin, heating you up, roasting you like a thanksgiving turkey. Your thighs were shiny with moisturizer, plump and hydrated, you don't know how long the hydration would last though.

“Y/n” Lando comes smiling with a tube of sunscreen in his hand. You have no idea which direction he came from but soon, he’s seated on the edge of the lounging chair, handing you the sunscreen.

You roll your eyes, somehow amused at this wordless communication. You sit up and he positions himself between your legs, turning his back to you. His shirtless back is toned, perfectly so as you begin to rub the cream on him. His skin is warm under  your touch, sunkissed and impossibly smooth. You slow your movements, wanting to linger a little while longer…memorizing every mole, every muscle.

You feel his hand on your ankle, thumb lightly grazing the bone back and forth as you try to concentrate on the task at hand .His touch is electric, almost too much and you didn't think it was possible to feel any hotter… but the feel of his hand on you sets your body on fire, igniting every cell and sense you have. The act is so casual, yet so intimate at the same time.

You’re keenly aware of the two sets of eyes on you, equally shocked and equally impressed. You can feel the smirks coming your way. Alex and Kelly not being subtle at all as you try to suppress your smile. You ignore them, rubbing the cream until it melts into his skin.

“Are those my glasses?” Lando asks with a playful grin when he turns around, his gaze meeting yours like it's the most natural thing, magnetic and inviting. His eyes remind you of a forest in midsummer, emerald with flecks of gold as the sun sets. A type of magic that draws you in…dangerous yet cautious at the same time.

“The words you’re looking for are ‘thank you” You roll your eyes, feeling the burn of your cheeks and you hope on everything sacred that you're not blushing.

“Thank you darling..” he smiles in response, making your heart leap in your chest. You gulp, swallowing on air and the unspoken words. His gaze drops down to your lips, lingering and heavy with anticipation. You knew exactly how it felt kissing him, the way his tongue tastes and the feverish way he swallows every breath from your lungs. It’s quite selfish..they way he consumes everything you have to give with one kiss. 

“Thank you darling” Alex mocks as soon as Lando is out of earshot, having been called by Lewis. You roll your eyes, unable to fight the grin from your face.

“Seriously, why don't you two just bone already. Everyone knows you hook up sometimes” Kelly asks, shrugging her shoulders. Her words make your heart beat a little faster and your face burns up.

“We do not hook up” you deny, shaking your head. You notice a lot more people coming onto the deck, people you don't particularly know but you’ve seen them around the paddock.

Alex scoffed “Oh please, you know you want to, you know he wants to….so what's the problem?”

What was the problem? What was stopping you two from actually being together? You weren't sure…you never really thought about it. You enjoyed this little lowkey thing you had with Lando.

 No expectations, no disappointments. It was fun. Lando was fun, he’s a party boy. 

You know that, everyone knows it. 

Who’s to say he’d change his lifestyle just for you? Because you got attached and wanted more? You couldn't risk ruining it. You never slept together, just surface level stuff, casual kisses here and there, a drunk make out session every so often.

You catch him out of the corner of your eye. He’s dancing with some girl. You’ve seen her around the paddock a couple of times. He’ll never beat the party boy allegations. He has a beer in one hand, and a hand on her waist. The very same hand that grazed your ankle just a minute ago.

He had a baseball cap on, backwards. He looked most handsome like that, his shorts stopping mid thigh, all angles catching the light at every movement. You wanted nothing more than to run your hands over his thighs, his legs, his chest, his whole body really. You wanted to memorize every crevice, every muscle and every hair on his body until it's the only thing you could remember.

You wanted to pour a glass of vodka down his neck and lap it up with your tongue, savoring the taste and feel of him. You felt your mouth water at the thought, heat pooling in your body. 

You felt like a female bird being serenaded by him, enticing you, drawing you in as you watched his body move to the beat. It was as if time stood still, moving in slow motion, taunting you, having you on the edge of your seat waiting for something more to happen.

You bit your lip, hard enough to draw blood. At this moment, you didn't even care about the girl he was dancing with.

Kelly tsks, shaking her head in amusement“If looks could impregnate someone-”

“Shut the fuck up” you laugh, diverting your gaze to the girls, looking for something nearby to hurl at her head.

“Who even is that?” You catch the brunette again, now grinding on Lando. You always considered yourself a girls girl. 

It’s hot girl summer? Get your tits out, yeah! You need an alibi because you're facing criminal charges for slashing 3 of your ex boyfriend’s tires? HELL YEAH! 

But at this moment? You couldn't help but be disgusted by her beautiful curves, almost invisible waist and that shimmering glow on her skin. If she were dancing with Daniel or Lewis or even George, you would've pulled her aside and asked for her lip combo or her favourite shade of tint. But not today.

“That’s Brooke, she’s Toto’s niece” Alex answered.

“Of course she is” you mutter, looking away. You needed a damn drink, you're too sober to be watching this.

“Im gonna get a drink” 

Once you reach the bar below deck, you order 3 shots of vodka, throwing them back like water, enjoying the tantalizing sensation at the back of your throat. The alcohol heats you up from the inside out as you order a mojito to sip on. The bartender complies, amused by your behavior. You thank him and turn around, right into Hamilton, who perches himself on a barstool, ordering 2 drinks for him and his lady friend.

Lewis is such an attractive man, not only his looks but the way he handles himself, handles others. You’re surprised he’s still single. 

“You know he’s only doing it to wind you up right?” he arches a brow, smirking as he watches your reaction.

“I don't care” you shrug trying to appear as nonchalant as he is. Lewis has a calm aura about him, you know you can trust. You know he would never betray your confidence and you often find yourself confiding in him.

He’s just easy to talk to, easy to be around and to like. Why couldn't you want him instead of party boy Lando, who hates fish as if he's paid to do it. 

“So what's with the shots?” 

“Its a party''

“Oh you wish” he laughs.

“A pity party?”

“Screw you” you chuckle at his words.

“You don't think I could?” you smirk.

“We’re not doing this.” he chuckles.

“Doing what?” you raise a brow.

“Whatever this conversation is turning into. I respect you, I respect Lando” 

“You’re no fun” you pout playfully. Lewis is rational, clear headed and respectful. Why couldn't you be in love with him instead? 

“And you’ll regret ever having this conversation when you’re not 3 shots in and high on jealousy” he smiles, titling his head before grabbing the two drinks before making his way back up onto the deck. 

You sigh. You debate whether or not to order 3 more vodka shots to make it an even number. But 6 shots Y/n isnt really pg friendly and that's the last thing you want right now.

“Y/n, come eat something” 

The group is seated around the massive picnic table as the chefs bring out some food. It's mainly finger foods and light sandwiches but the moment you made eye contact with the shrimp, your stomach growled in response.

As you walk over, you notice the only space open is conveniently next to Lando. You narrow your eyes at Alex and Kelly, who do nothing but smirk and avoid your gaze. You sit down, begrudgingly, silent among the noise and chatter of the group. Brooke smiles at you, kindly as you take a seat opposite her.

You smile back, immediately feeling a pang of guilt for thinking those terrible things about her earlier. She’s even prettier up close, freckles cover her nose and under her eyes, she's naturally beautiful.

You slowly decide to eat small bites of food, ignoring the burning sensation at the point where your knee meets Lando’s. It takes everything in you to ignore him, ignore the casual hand placed on your thigh, inching higher and higher. 

His warm hand leaves a trail of fire in its wake, awakening a hunger that is never satisfied in your belly. No matter how much you eat, gulping down food like it's your last meal, the hunger lingers like a hole in your stomach.

Lando participates in casual conversation with the table about practices and sprints, all the while you're unraveling under his touch. He doesn’t even look at you, doesn’t falter once in his conversation about setups and downforce. But his fingers curl ever so slightly into your skin, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

You feel the hammer of your pulse in your ears, heat rushing through you and collecting in your belly. The heat between your legs has nothing to do with the scorching hot sun glaring on your body.

Your breathing elevates, uneven until you can't take the pace at which your heart is racing. Your lips are dry and yet your mouth is salivating at all the possibilities. You quickly come to your senses and place your hand on his, stopping him from going further, unraveling you, unwrapping every restraint you have.

With the touch, he turns his head to look at you, eyes boring into yours, daring you to do something…say something. The heat behind his eyes, the intensity is too much when his gaze drops to your lips. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth before running his tongue along his top lip.

You let out a shaky breath, counting every freckle and mole that travels down his neck.

“Lando, come swim with me” Brooke brings you back to reality. It's like a shock to your system, like a gallon of cold water thrown over your head, killing every flame in your body.

You clear your throat, turning your attention back to your food. You catch Lewis’s eye across the table, flipping him off when you notice the amused, knowing gleam in his eyes. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s such a great idea, let's all go swimming” Kelly squeals, perking up at the idea, much to Max’s dismay. She gives you a wink, an over-exaggerated wink that was never intended to be subtle. You laugh at her quirkiness, hearing Lando chuckle next to you.

“Y/n can I borrow your charger?” Lando speaks up, almost surprising you. You raise a brow at his weird but usual request.

“Sure, it's in my bag. You know where it is right?” You nod your head.

“You could just show me” 

You raise your brow, a little taken aback by his request but nevertheless you excuse yourself from the table. The group heads off to the front of the deck where the crew set up some umbrellas and floaties for the water. 

Your heart pounds against your ribcage when Lando reaches for your hand.. you lead him through to one of the rooms onboard. You’re not sure what he’s doing but you're excited to see how this plays out. 

You walk into the room in silence, your pulse now beating in your ears.You busy yourself, rummaging through the bag you packed as Lando takes a seat on the edge of the bed, watching you with an intensity that has your fingers trembling as you search.

“She’s really pretty huh?” His voice is light and casual but his words bring an ache to your chest, your heart drops slightly.

“Yeah” you replied halfheartedly through gritted teeth.

“Not as pretty as you though” He answers and you swear your world stops spinning, tilting on its axis in slow motion. Your head feels heavy as your breath hitches in your throat. You feel your cheeks heat up at his words, blushing profusely.

Butterflies fill your stomach, threatening to burst into your lungs, pounding with every flutter.

You don't answer him, you can't. 

You can barely look him in the eye when you hand him the charger. He takes it from your grasp, his fingers grazing yours, lingering with a current that travels up your arms and into your body. He places it next to him on the bed.

You clear your throat before saying “We should get back”

You needed air, the room felt like it was closing in on you. Or maybe it was the way Lando was looking up at you, his gaze telling a thousand words his mouth couldn't even begin to say. You didn't wanna think about it.

“You’re really that keen on watching me flirt with Brooke?” he’s standing now, his face so close to yours you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

Your heart twists at his words, a cold hand that wraps around your throat, squeezing until you couldn't breathe.

“You’re a party boy..wouldnt expect anything less” you hoped your words sparked some kind of negative feeling in him, you wanted to hurt him but your words lacked conviction. Lando grinned, almost taunting you.

“You’ve always had a mouth on you and yet you can never actually say what you want”

“I don't want anything from you”

“Liar” he whispers, his body now invading your space. He smells of cinnamon and aftershave, a scent so familiar your body awakens in its presence. You can't think, your lungs are consumed by the smell of him until he’s all you can smell. He’s surrounded you, trapped you in a pit of quicksand..every move you make has you sinking further into him.

He raises his hand and delicately tucks your hair behind your ear. Your gaze falls on his soft, plump lips. His perfectly sculpted lips, inviting you to press yours against his. To feel what it feels like to fall all in him.

You want to kiss him, you want his hands on your waist, pulling you close, breathing you in like oxygen. He leans down, lips hovering over yours like a ghost, a gentle whisper tingling on your lips. You need it, you crave it. 

“Tell me you want this” he whispers hoarsely against your lips. You feel lightheaded.

Your throat is dry, “I want it” you answer, the words lingering between you like a heavy cloud, threatening  to burst.

You don't know who moves first but as soon as your lips touch, you’re moving in sync, teeth clashing, hard and fast. He pulls you close, trapping you in an embrace with both arms wrapped around your waist holding you flush against him.

You're like an addict getting their fix, wanting to be totally consumed, whisked away in ecstasy. Lando’s lips move down to your neck, biting and licking with his tongue. You're afraid he’s gonna leave a mark but the heat in your body, the adrenaline running through your veins wants to keep going until all your body knows is his lips, his hands and the electric feeling of his body against yours.

You gasp, letting out a whimper as he makes his way down your cleavage until he's on his knees in front of you. “Tell me to stop” he looks up at you with swollen lips and hooded eyes, glassed over with need and lust.

You shake your head “no” your words come out airy almost whining as you protest. His hands rub up and down your thighs and you grip the dresser behind you before your knees give out.

“I don't want anyone else” he whispers through laboured breaths and your heart stops in your chest. He looks beautiful, his gaze so addicting and sincere as he peers up at you through thick, full lashes.

You reach down, taking his hand in yours bringing him back up to your level.

“I don't want anyone else either” You admit.

He smiles, his hand finding your chin, lifting your face to meet his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” you blush.

You don't know what's more confusing, the fact that casual kisses led to this, or the fact that party boy Lando was no longer party boy Lando but, your Lando.

You liked the sound of that.

******

☕ If you enjoy my writing and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee here: coffee (or just send love — that’s always free!)

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

Chaotic - Charles' Version

Parings: Charles Leclerc x reader, Lando Norris x platonic reader.

Warnings: language

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, kinda toxic boyfriend but not?

Summary: As the F1 season nears its end, tensions rise on and off the track. You're a journalist caught between post-race interviews and pre-race pressure. Charles Leclerc, usually tender, playful, and proud. But after another devastating loss at his home Grand Prix, the man you come home with is distant, jealous, and unraveling. When misunderstandings with old friend Lando Norris ignite Charles’s insecurities, the lines between love and ego blur.

wc: 4452

Emotions ran high, adrenaline pumped, heart raced, chants and cheers filled the air as Lando Norris won the Monaco GP. Fireworks burst in the air as the checkered flag was being waved. Your cheeks hurt so much from smiling, watching as Charles took p3, the familiar 16 Ferrari zoomed past you in a blur of red. The very same red you were dressed in.

You met Charles the very first day you started working as a F1 journalist. It may sound cliche but it wasn't love at first sight, it wasn't even like at first sight. The moment you bumped into him, your hot coffee spilling all over his light wash jeans, colouring him in a dark brown sticky mess. He was anything but polite and you for sure thought he hated you.

But before the day was over, he came to find you and apologized with a cup of coffee, replacing the one you spilled. It was terrible, bitter and way too hot but the redness on his cheeks and ears were enough to tell you he felt bad and was trying to make amends for something that was entirely your fault.

From then on, he made it his mission to bring you coffee every morning, with the same sheepish grin and dimples that made you weak in the knees. You finally found the courage to tell him you hated the coffee and he immediately recoiled, cheeks flushed and it would've been adorable if you didn't feel so bad. But he took this opportunity to ask you on a date, for the sole intention of finding out your real coffee order, of course.

You were set to interview the winners after their podium celebration. You watched with pride as your boyfriend, Lewis and Lando received their trophies, giggling at the excited men drowning each other in champagne. You met Charles' eyes from afar, those blue eyes filled with happiness and a subtle disappointment. You knew how hard he’s worked, you knew how much he wanted to win in his home country. 

Despite this, you watched as the boys celebrated, champagne everywhere, in their faces, down their backs, all over like little boys having a water fight in their backyards. Your hands were clasped together just under your chin, holding back tears.

“From p18 to p1, Lando Norris… what a strategy the McLaren team had today, well done” You gleamed as you held the mic, cameras and reporters everywhere. Lando stood in front of you, sweaty and sticky, the champagne leaving a shiny film on his form. His face was a burning red from the heat of the helmet as he ran his hand through his damp hair, disturbing them from their flat lay on his head.

He grinned ear to ear as he said  “Yeah no doubt, It was a team effort- everyone brought their A game today” he nodded looking at you. He wiped his tongue over his bottom lip, a sheen of moisture then coated them.

“What went through your head the moment you spun out during the second lap? From where I was standing, it looked like the car had to be retired” You raised a brow at the racer, impressed at the feat.

“The track was a bit wet at the beginning of the race…didnt have the proper tires and the wheels locked up a bit but we’ve worked so hard all season and all I could think was ‘dont fuck this up Lando’’ he chuckled, shaking his head but continued “It truly was a team effort you know” He beamed, ever so humble.

“In those last laps, Hamilton really seemed to have given it his all in that Ferrari. How does it feel to have beaten such an accomplished world champion?”

“There’s no greater feeling, honestly. I respect Lewis so much but oof Ferrari? They’ve just given him a shit car..that's all I can say on that” he shook his head and frowned, his brows furrowed at the thought of Hamilton. Or rather the team he drove for.

“Can I even say that?” he leaned closer, whispering, no doubt looking for his PR manager.

“I’ll let it slide this time” You chuckled, your fingers briefly grazing his arm for a second before he resumed his stance.The clouds have started to darken a bit, grey and full in the sky as reporters and cameramen scrambled around, doing their post race interviews with the other drivers.

“This is your second to last race of the season. Any predictions on who might win the last Grand Prix of the season?” You baited.

“The competition this year is tough, so it's hard to say. What are your predictions?” he asked with a grin, both hands now on his hips as he stood with his legs spread a bit. His race suit hung by his waist, leaving him in his black fireproof suit.

“I’m afraid I might be biased”You chuckled, glancing around to see if you could spot Charles.You found him instantly, his eyes already on you, glaring for some odd reason. His shoulders were tense and his forearms flexed unintentionally with the motion as he crossed his arms, waiting to be interviewed. 

“But Mclaren has certainly upped their game this year having won so many races and today’s win has put you on top” You cleared your throat before dragging your attention back to the task at hand, after what seemed like forever, trying to figure out why your boyfriend seemed so grumpy.

“Mclaren has great drivers” Lando chuckled with his usual overly confident grin. The same cocky smile you’ve come to know over the 5 years of working with him.

“No doubt. Thank you so much for your time, appreciate it” You smiled.

“Of course, will you be joining us tonight?” Lando smiles leaning forward to kiss both your cheeks. The smell of champagne and sweat filled your senses as he greeted you. 

“Wouldnt miss it” you answered before you pulled apart.

By the time you and Charles headed back to your Monaco apartment, things were obviously tense on his side. His interview was unusually short and stiff, no lingering glances or smiles, just cold and off putting, awkward even.

You put it off to him just being upset about losing his home race, even though he came 3rd, that was basically losing in his eyes. His body was tense,tight with a sharp sense of disappointment and discomfort. Usually he was so affectionate, hand on your waist, kissing you every two minutes, always touching you..but he didnt even hold your hand. 

You felt a pang of longing in your chest, a sharp double edged knife tracing the lines of your skin where his touch usually resided. His usual presence that demanded to be felt was gone, replaced with a gust of cold wind.

You tried to shake your thoughts, almost annoyed at how needy you sounded.You shrugged your bag from your shoulder and dumped your car keys on the kitchen island before removing your coat in one swift motion. You kicked your shoes off and left them on the kitchen floor, a nasty habit you’ve picked up over the years.

“You alright darling?” You inquired as you watched him plop down on the couch with a sigh. The sound of paws echoing on the floor made it known that Leo, Charles’s beloved dachshund was very much awake and missed him. Leo hopped onto the couch and onto Charles, crawling up to lick his face.

“Oh I missed you Leo” Charles cooed, the tension slowly released from his body as he sank further into the couch, holding the squirming dog close to his chest.The fact that he ignored you stung but you carried on around the island to the fridge, looking for something to eat.

“Are you hungry?” You asked again while your eyes scanned the fridge. You bit your lip, bringing them between your teeth as you anticipated an answer. You felt the exhaustion cling to your body when you closed it.

“I ate at the hospitality” he replied shortly. You were relieved you didn't have to make anything but at the same time, annoyed at his short answers and indifference toward you. You were so confused but somehow used to how quickly his mood could change.

“Will we be joining the others at the lounge tonight?” You spoke, your bare feet padded across the hard wood floor stopping at the opposite side of the couch before sitting down, facing him.

“You’re certainly keen on going” he mumbled, his tone confused you as you frowned, your brows furrowed at his words.His gaze was directed to the dog while he rubbed his fingers on Leo’s stomach, giving him much needed belly rubs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You questioned, watching as Leo hops off his lap, almost as if he could sense the now growing tension between you two.

“Nothing” he dismissed.

“Charles” you deadpanned, looking him straight in the eye, glaring at his ridiculous insinuation.You weren’t stupid or born yesterday, you knew what he meant but it was no use jumping to your own conclusions. You didn't want to, you wanted him to be a big boy and say what he meant.

“All I’m saying is you’re certainly keen on spending time with other guys-”

“What are you talking about?” 

“You might as well have told Lando you’d like to go out on a date, the way you two were flirting” he shot, narrowing his eyes. Charles had always had very expressive eyes, you could read him in an instant and right now, the usual calm blue ocean was a turbulent river, meandering to conclusions and it said ‘you were flirting’..which you knew wasn't true. 

“Flirting? It was an interview” You scoffed when you adjusted in your seat, the cushion now became a block of concrete beneath your bottom.

“Yeah and giggling and touching his arm was part of it?” he accused, his face hot with anger and his hand clenched.

“I was being friendly” You said through gritted teeth, trying not to escalate the situation or focus on how your blood heated up inside your body, threatening to reach its boiling point.

“Friendly my ass” he shot back, face contorted in mockery and ugliness.

“Charles come on, you know it’s my job to make you drivers comfortable, ask the right questions after such a long and hard race on the track”

“It’s not your job to flirt with the drivers” he doubled down.

Sometimes it was hard to convince him or even have a civil conversation when he’s deadset on accusing you of ridiculous accusations or convinced he’s right and you were wrong.

“Great because that’s not what I was doing” you crossed your arms.

“You wanna go and celebrate Lando? Go ahead mon amour, you’re free to do whatever you like” His accent was heavy.

“I wanna celebrate you” You tried to convince him.

“Funny you remembered your boyfriend was also in the race” he rolled his eyes before getting up from his seat. You huffed, annoyed that he would walk away from an argument he started. You knew there was no getting through to him now. Not when he’s so stubborn.

“We leave in 20” He muttered before disappearing into the hallway that led to your shared bedroom.

*

You felt bad for even thinking this, but you were glad when Kelly pulled you away from your brooding counterpart. The drive over was tense, filled with nothing but dark clouds and silence. It was almost suffocating.

“You look amazing darling” Kelly greeted, her smile wide as she drank in your outfit. You didn't have much time to put something together but you had to admit.. you looked decent given the circumstances. The air was much cooler in the evening so you settled on your favourite pair of black knee high boots with an oversized crewnecked dress that stopped just above your boot. Your make up and hair was the same as earlier, just reapplied some gloss and touched up your hair.

“Thank you babe, you too” You smiled, drinking in her effortless style. She thanked you under the dark lights, her eyes shining at the compliment.

The lounge was packed, filled to the brim with overly drunk people and smelt of alcohol and sweat. The lights were dim with a disco ball in the middle of the ceiling, circling round and round causing the shimmering lights to glow. You could feel the base of the music vibrating in your lungs, almost deafening.

“It’s so good to see you, it’s been a while since I was able to get a break from the kids” she gushed over the loud music as you made your way to a vacant table in the VIP section. To your left, the boys are talking loudly, wild hand gestures and exaggerated laughs and bellows. They looked like such a fun bunch, carefree after a weekend of hard work.

You were never one to tell Charles how much he could and could not drink, he knew his limit as well as his dietary restrictions as a driver…but tonight may be the night you had to tell him to stop. You watched as he gulped down every drink handed to him, no questions asked in an attempt to catch up to the other boys.

You had to admit, he looked really handsome, even when he was being an ass. The dimness of the club made his skin glow an extra shade darker and you knew he smelt good. His hair was messy but he made it work, the chain around his neck did wonders. You always ran your finger along the silver loops while talking about anything and everything under the comfort of your duvet.

It felt like it's been forever since he’s even looked your way. He spent all day in an awful mood, avoiding your touch, you were afraid he’d feel foreign. Your body was starting to feel the effects of his absence. You and Charles didn't fight often and you pretty much worked the same hours so you were always together on the paddock.

You make a mental note not to drink tonight, wanting to be sober enough to take care of your boyfriend as well as drive the two of you home.

“How’s Lily, I haven't had a chance to formally meet her yet” Kelly’s eyes lit up at the mention of her newborn. Her and Max now had their hands full with little Penelope and Lily…more her than Max.

“Oh she’s amazing, Max insists on facetiming with her every night, afraid she’ll forget the sound of his voice” she smiled, looking over to her boyfriend, Max Verstappen. He was currently lounging on one of the couches with the boys, a drink in hand listening as Lando made another joke, sending them into bursts of laughter.

Lando’s always been a joker, goofy and fun. He’s such a pleasure to be around and you thought maybe Charles felt threatened by him. But how could he when you’ve always treated him like the only man in the world that mattered?

Or did you?

Maybe it wasn't even about your relationship. Maybe it was about him, losing the race he trained so hard for. You couldn't help overthinking things, which was upsetting because you were meant to be celebrating tonight.

“Hey..you okay? What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kelly noticed the distant look on your face and you remember then, that you hadn't even responded to her yet.

“Sorry..I’m a bit distracted” You blushed sheepishly. You crossed your legs one over the other, pulling down your dress as it rode up your thigh with the action. Goosebumps ran through your body at the exposed skin

“Yeah, I can tell..what's going on?” she asked before calling over a bottle girl and taking 2 drinks from the tray and placed it on the table.

When she pushed one towards you, you immediately shook your head, politely declining the drink. It smelt strongly of alcohol, the clear liquid burning your nostrils a bit. She frowned before looking over at Charles and a moment of realisation hits her as she takes in the now red faced Monegasque man. 

“Charles being a dick is what’s going on, he accused me of flirting with Lando during the interview earlier” you rolled your eyes, the words rolling off your tongue before you could even stop it.

“Really?” She raised her perfectly shaped brow at your words, ears perking up before taking a sip of her drink.

“Yeah but trust me, I wasn't" you hesitated “or I don't think I was” you stated as you bit your lip once again.

“I’ve watched the interview. It was a basic interview but who am I kidding? Men will see what they want to” she answered glancing over to Max, who just so happened to call her over. She apologized and promised to be back in 2 minutes.

The seat opposite you was empty for only a few seconds before it was soon occupied with none other than the talk of the town, Lando Norris. Your body tensed up and your nails tapped rhythmically against the tabletop as he sat down. His grin wide and cheeks flushed.The beer in his hand was half empty, sloshing slightly with the force used to put it down.

“Fancy seeing you here” he smiled cheekily, a boyish grin you’ve seen countless times. 

“Told you I would be” you smiled softly, friendly. You were hesitant to talk to him, knowing how upset Charles was about the interview and how it went…. but you and Lando were friends even before you and Charles started dating. It’s not fair of him to be upset over a friendship that existed before you two were together.

Lando leaned forward, resting his elbows dramatically on the table. “Oh good, I was starting to think you ghosted me. Again.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “‘Again’? I literally saw you three hours ago...on international television.” You said in a matter of fact tone.

“Yeah, and I was dazzling, wasn’t I?” he winked, taking a sip of his beer. “Some would say breathtaking.”

 “Yeah, breathtaking like a near spin-out on Lap 2.” you snorted.

“Oi! That was a dramatic flair, not a mistake” he defended, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t disrespect the art.”

You leaned back in your seat, now heavily amused at the direction at which this conversation was going. You felt the tension release from your shoulders as you settled in a familiar rhythm. It was always like that with Lando. “Spinning out is now considered an art?”

“Only when I do it” he grinned, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I’m thinking of calling it the Norris pirouette.”

“Catchy. Real ballet-core of you.” You entertained his idea, nodding your head thoughtfully. 

He raised his beer in the air. “Thank you. I’ll be expecting merch royalties when it takes off.”

There was a beat of comfortable silence, his grin still present but gentler now as he leaned in closer.

“Charles still mad?” he asked, no malice and no jokes, just a genuine, tipsy curiosity.

You sighed and glanced over at your boyfriend, who was now alone. You felt his stare from across the room, glaring at the sight of you and Lando. Your heart dropped in your chest, a feeling a little too similar to disappointment but mostly rage.

“Not mad. Just… broody. You know how he gets.” You muttered, still staring at the green manchild you’re supposed to go home with tonight. You always loved his attention, you always enjoyed knowing that his eyes would always find yours from across the room. You had a secret language like that, you always wanted to be under his gaze.

But not tonight..tonight you wanted to hide from the green monster and hoped that your usual knight would find you.

“Oh yeah, full French drama. Like ‘Les Mis’, but with more horsepower.”

You chuckled half-heartedly, tearing your eyes away from him.

 “Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll race you just to prove a point.”

“I welcome the challenge” Lando said, then added, “As long as he doesn’t throw baguettes at me mid-race.”

“I’d advise him to opt for a fish then” You snorted watching as Lando visibly recoils at the thought. His hatred for fish really needed to be studied… it was unnatural to hate a harmless sea creature that much.

Just as Lando went to open his mouth, Charles showed up, cutting him off with a snarky interjection. “Well this is nice” 

“Mate, we’re just having a conversation” Lando raised his hands in surrender.

“Funny, we were just leaving” he stared Lando down with an uncomfortable intensity. 

“You should go” you gave Lando an out, an apologetic smile adorned your face as he nodded, leaving you with your tipsy, pissed off boyfriend. You glared at Charles, snatching your purse with a quickness filled with anger and embarrassment. Charles knew not to say anything when you stood up and made your way through a sea of people, following you like a lost puppy with the coordination of a blind cat. 

You felt the heat run through your veins as you walked to where he parked the car. You knew this moment and every other moment in that lounge was going to be on the internet but you couldn’t help the way you snatched the car keys from his grip.

You’re both too angry and upset to say anything or do anything other than get in the car. You waited for Charles to find his way to the passenger seat and shut the door. You took a breath, your hands gripping the steering wheel as you lean your head against it.

Charles was silent in the seat next to you, watching you. He knew he messed up, he knew he embarrassed you and the alcohol in his veins did nothing to dull the immense guilt building up in the pit of his stomach. 

You started up the car and began the drive to your apartment. You were thankful for how close the lounge was to the apartment (having lived close to the city). When you pulled into the parking lot of the building, you almost jumped out of the car, slamming the door shut, not even waiting for Charles. You knew you’d pay for that later.

When you entered the silent apartment, you walked in to see Leo sleeping on his dog bed in the corner and quickly moved to remove your bag and place the car keys where they belong. Charles walked in silently after you, not saying a word.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You couldn't help the words that poured from your mouth like a waterfall, with strong and unforgiving currents. 

Charles didn't waste any time answering you with the same feverish tone you echoed through the apartment.

“You’re my problem” He bellowed with an unexpected sharp edge.

“For fuck’s sake Charles, I wasnt flirting with Lando!” Your anger boiled over, watching his expression falter under the lights. You could see his pained expression as clear as day and yet he refused to let you in.

“I KNOW” he yelled back, his voice bouncing off the walls.

“Then what the hell is wrong?” You asked frustrated, threading your fingers through your hair, tugging at it..gripping it into tight fists on your head.

“I just..I feel like I’m failing at everything” He answered after a beat, his voice lowered but you could still hear the exhaustion and anger but mostly you hear the disappointment…His usually bright eyes were tinged with red. 

You felt your resolve crumble at the state of him. His wild hair and untucked shirt was an open display of whatever was going on inside his head.

“You’re not failing-”

“Yes I am! This season has been so shitty… I worked my ass off and now it's almost finished and I have nothing to show for it” his voice travelled through the apartment but you knew it wasn't directed at you. He was frustrated.

You moved to the couch, your legs threatened to give in if you were to stand any longer. The aching in your feet immediately subsided. You looked up at your boyfriend who stood across the room and wanted nothing more than to reach out your arms and comfort him. You wanted to hold him close to your body, run your fingers through his curls and tell him that everything was gonna be okay.

At your silence, he spoke again “Even when things were horrible, I always knew that when I came home you’d be there to tell me how proud you were, no matter what happened” he continued, his voice filled with new conviction.

“So what’s changed?” you asked quietly, wanting to understand him..needing to understand him.

“I don't know..I see you with Lando and everything’s just so easy with him. He beats me, takes the position I worked so hard for and he makes you laugh?-”

“I love you” you shook your head.

“I know that..I just..I dont know what’s wrong-” his voice cracked as he spoke and your heart couldn't take watching him break down. You knew it took everything to admit that his ego was bruised, his pride shattered by a title.

“C’mere” you motioned for him to join you on the couch, the lump in your throat made it hard to speak louder than a broken whisper. It felt like forever since you’ve held him and so when he sat down next to you, you immediately brought him into your arms.

“Je suis désolé (I’m sorry)” he whispered into your hair, arms holding onto you tightly, almost afraid you’ll float away if he let go. You ran your fingers through his hair, caressing him lightly, slowly savouring the feel of his body that close to yours.

You knew that Charles struggled to express himself and preferred to keep things bottled up or to himself. You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at him because you did the same thing, but you were working on it.

“I know baby” You answered. Truthfully, you already forgave him the moment you realised how broken up he was. 

You knew he didn’t need words or reassurance, he just needed you to be there, be present while he hands you the broken pieces as a peace offering.

He didn't need you to fix him, he just needed you to see him and still choose him, even on the days he couldn't choose himself.

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

STOP MAKING MY LIL AWKWARD NERDY BOYS BE CONFIDENT AND SO SURE OF THEMSELVES!!! I LIKE THEM BECAUSE THEY’RE NERDY NOT BECAUSE YOU FANFIC WRITERS MAKE THEM EGO MANIC ASSHOLES

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

Back to Friends

So clearly this was heavily inspired by the song Back to Friends by sombr, I love that song 😭😭.

Summary: How do you smile at someone like nothing ever happened, when your heart still beats for them? In a room full of laughter and love, she stands frozen—watching the only man she’s ever loved dance with someone else.

warning: none? just some angst.

wc:738

Your cheeks hurt. 

You’ve been smiling so hard all night your teeth started hurting from all the clenching. You don't know how many drinks you’ve had but the pain in your chest tells you that it definitely wasn't enough.

The lights are dim in the club, flashing occasionally with a bass you can feel trembling in your bones. The ice cold martini gripped between your fingers does nothing to numb you,the condensation dripping down your arm.

You don't wanna be here. You don't wanna be surrounded by happy couples, smiling,dancing and laughing. You watch Jenna and Lion on the dance floor, their moves in sync, their bodies practically magnetic, drawing each other in. A force so undeniable it's impossible not to feel the love radiating from them.

Your eyes flicker to him- Nick. 

He’s with Serena, pretty brunette, tall, kind.. funny too. You wanted to hate her, but she’s the kind of girl who stops for cats in the road, the type to take pictures of rainbows and pretty flowers. Her smile is always wide and radiant, perfect teeth with that perfect smile. Unlike you who despised the rain, hated driving and rarely had something nice to say, sarcasm your choice of defense.

Maybe that’s why he broke up with you. It was just hard being with you, the constant fear and insecurity probably got too much for him. But you made a promise to stay friends, your friendship too important to lose.

How stupid were you to think you could ever be friends with someone you loved more than life itself. You’ve never loved anyone the way you love Nick Leister. The kind of love you wrote poetry about, the love you only saw in movies and big screens. A love so kind and forgiving you thought it had no bounds..but it did. 

So how is it that he could move on from you so quickly, smiling at you everyday, cracking jokes like your relationship meant nothing to him. Like your world didn't shatter when he left. Like the cracks on your heart were just decoration…for fun. The pieces of you are shattered and scattered across the dance floor, at every corner of the room, begging to be put back together.

All you know is that you’ll never love anyone the way you love him. The word itself is so underwhelming, too underwhelming to even begin to describe how attached your heart is to him, it’s practically beating in his chest as he smiles down at little miss doe eyed Serena..Serena, who looks at him like he’s hung the stars in the sky.

The same way you looked at him whenever he surprised you with donuts and fancy flowers you insisted you didn't need but he bought it anyway. In return you'd write him letters, always too shy to tell him how much he meant to you (you'd always cry whenever you tried to get the words out). Letters were the way you showed your heart to him, opened up every door and the tiniest of windows to him, allowing him to take up residency.

You were now strangers with memories too deeply engraved in your mind to ever forget. Memories carved on your body, your skin, your hands, even down to the strands of your hair. His entire being is etched into you and yet, he’s able to breathe without trouble. He’s able to live like he wasn’t affected at all. Like the loss of you was just some hurdle to jump over to get to the next person.

Did your presence mean so little that he’s able to forget you?

You fish out your phone, you’re ready to leave..but before you do, you go to his contact,your thumb trembling before you hit his name and type: 

How can we go back to being friends, when we just shared a bed? How can you look at me and pretend I’m someone you never met?

You hit send before you lose your nerve. You throw the rest of your drink back ,the alcohol coursing through your veins as you weave your way through a sea of bodies towards the exit.

The lump in your throat is too hard to ignore and the hot tears prick at your eyes, stinging with a burn you’ve become accustomed to, it’s almost comforting.

You were stupid. You can't ever just be friends with him again.

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

smut is great but do you know what’s better? heart wrenching, soul twisting angst that makes you want to cry (take my money)

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

Friends with Benefits

Summary: On stormy winter nights, tangled beneath hello kitty blankets and stolen glances, you and Nick have built something complicated...something that feels dangerously close to love. But in the cold light of day, you're just friends with rules you both regret.

Content Warning : use of the word 'slut', alcohol mentioned (weed implied), angst

wc: 4383

Night times were the best part of your day. When the storming rain hits your roof and window with that soothing, constant familiar sound as you lay cuddled up with Nick. The heat of his body against yours, almost enough to shield you from the cold London winters. You get a blanket for safe measure. The only light emits from your tv on the wall across from your bed. 

You force him to watch reruns of Grey's Anatomy, he swears he hates it but can't wait to watch it every night. Your limbs tangle together under the safety of the blanket, chest rising and falling at a comfortable pace. Your head is laid peacefully on his chest, his heartbeat a quiet lull in your ear. He smells of aftershave and cologne, your favorite scents mixed into something that's uniquely him. You breathe in deeply, hoping the scent would linger in your lungs, your clothes, your hair, your sheets…

His thumb rubs lazily on your hip bone, warming you up from the inside as his calloused finger grazes your skin just above the waistband of your underwear. The small act alone ignites a sort of heat you can’t get from someone else. It’s rarely such a calm night for the two of you. Usually he can't keep his hands off of you, no place on your body untouched and no moments wasted before your garments go flying and you find yourself in utter bliss.

“Is it just me, or is he kinda gaslighty” Nick murmurs into your hair, bringing his hand up to stroke it, slowly running his fingers along your scalp sending shivers through you. The heat of his thumb on your hip evaporates rapidly, leaving you naked to the prickling cold that nips at your skin.

“Right? Just cause he gave up his job at the white house for her” you scoff, annoyed at the Derek Shepard drama. He treated Meredith terribly after the first few seasons and that's a hill you’re willing to die on. Mcdreamy? More like Mcmanipulator.

“You know I put mum onto this show” Nick chuckles softly, his chest rumbling with the sound, vibrating slightly under your cheek. 

“Really?” You giggle, shifting slightly in his arms, your legs hot under the hello kitty blanket. 

“Yeah, she loves it, begs me to watch it with her” He continues stroking your head and you’re afraid you might fall asleep before the nights over.

“You secretly love it too, admit it” you tease, smiling up at him. You reach your hand up to play with the silver necklace that’s found its home around his neck. The silver is cold against your hand but the warmth of his neck warms the tips of your fingers.

“Never” he shakes his head, lips curing into an easy smile, pink and full. His dimples shine under the light of the tv and you find yourself caressing his jawline with your thumb, slowly. He looks down at you, eyelids drooped, his eyelashes long and lushes, something you’re insanely jealous of. He takes your hand in his, warming them as he places a quick, yet gentle kiss on your knuckles. 

You suck in a deep breath, the feeling of his lips brushing against your skin feels like a reward, a gift you’ve been wanting, begging for. You pray he can’t feel the way your heart is racing in your chest. His eyes are always on yours, electric, big and warm with flecks of hazel, intense..overwhelmingly so. 

You tear your eyes away from his, flickering down to his lips, perfectly full and shaped to fit yours exactly. Like they were formed with you in mind and no one else. You always find yourself wondering what it would be like to actually kiss him.

“She really likes you, you know, keeps asking when you’ll visit again.” You don't linger no matter how much you want to. You're tempted to lean upward and press your lips against his…but you have rules. Stupid rules which say you’re not allowed to kiss each other on the lips. You were so stupid when you agreed to it, something about it being too intimate for a situation started out of pure boredom. 

“That’s so sweet” you only half smile before turning your attention back to the tv. Tiny butterflies fill your chest knowing that his mum likes you. It’s a small victory after all the overthinking and nerves that threatened to overthrow you, drown you and swallow you whole.

“Maddie too” he says.

You don't say anything..you can't. You remember how nervous you felt when you first met them. Your stomach flipped, your palms were sweaty and you couldn't seem to form your words properly. You wanted them to like you, you needed them to like you. But when Nick introduced you as his friend, all of that overthinking went out the window. It was like a wake up call for you and for your own sanity you decided to just let things be. If they liked you, that's great..if they didn't, it wouldn't really matter because you didn't really matter to Nick in that way. 

But they do like you and now you can't stop the crushing feeling of loss and grief that covers you and holds you tight at the throat. This thing with Nick? This feeling of warmth and comfort? It’s only for the night. Every time he leaves at 2 am sharp, you’re right back to feeling that overwhelming sense of loneliness. 

So did it matter that they liked you? Of course it did, but could you handle getting close to them knowing you and Nick won’t last? 

No, of course not.

So when Nick asks you if you’re wanting to join him the next time he goes to see them, you swallow the lump in your throat and give a noncommittal “we’ll see”

-

You haven't seen Nick in 2 days, so when you do, it’s at your weekly hangout at Jenna’s, your heart dances in your chest. Your eyes meet his from across the room the minute he steps in, Noah trailing not too far behind. 

Your body aches, wanting to reach out to him and hug him, cuddle him.. run your hands through his hair while he rubs your back. One thing you’ve learnt from this friends with benefits agreement was that Nick is a very affectionate person, his body craves yours like a magnet in close proximity.

 But that Nick is confined to the light grey walls of your bedroom.

His eyes doesn't linger on yours, looking away as soon as they meet. You heart sinks and you try not to take it personally. You’re seated on the couch as Noah comes over to hug you before taking a seat next to you, the couch sinking under her weight. Her fresh floral scent fills your nose and you get a whiff of her mango scented shampoo as well.

“You guys started without us” Noah pouts, noticing the array of board games and popcorn scattered on the coffee table. Game night is the only night you guys spend indoors, beside the usual clubbing, house parties, races and bare knuckle fights. It’s something you enjoy, something you look forward to. 

“You know we always start at 9” you answer before taking a sip from your cold, sweating beer. Nick and Lion take their usual seats across from you, on the opposite couches, Zach and Jenna walk in with more snacks, Zach already chewing on some pizza greasing the corners of his mouth.

The warm aroma of the pepperoni pizza fills the air, steaming up the table as she places the box in the middle. Your mouth waters at the sight of the cheesy goodness in front of you.

“Oi Nick,Noah..you're late” Jenna says, giving them each a beer from the cooler nearby. The soft r&b playlist hums in the background, a white noise.

“Sorry, had to kick Noah out of my closet again” Nick rolls his eyes, adjusting in his seat before bringing the beer to his lips. His gaze settles on you again. You don't give him any of your attention, you don't want to but you feel the burn of his eyes boring into the side of your head, awaking every cell in your body.

“Excuse me, I asked if I could borrow ONE hoodie” Noah emphasizes, defending herself with wild hands.

“Yeah ONE hoodie, not have a whole try on haul” he retaliates sitting up on the couch.

“Well, you should have been specific when you said yes” Noah shrugs her shoulders.

“I didn't even say yes” 

Your stomach twists at how casual he is, like his whole being isn’t screaming for you, the way yours is for him. He’s so close yet so far. You drown out the sound of their back and forth, banter and cheeky quips. 

“Lion, what time did your friend say he’s coming?” Jenna asks as she sits on the arm of the couch. Her braids in a huge bun on her head, cleared from her shoulders and face. Her brown skin glows under the dim lighting, clear and sparkly with eyeshadow on her eyelids.

“Should be here soon” he checks his watch.

“Friend? Do we know him” Zach questions, looking up from the pizza for the first time. He’s definitely stoned, his eyes red and hazed. He’s almost finished half the pizza.

“No but he knows you” Lion points to you and you're instantly intrigued, brows raising, heart skipping unexpectedly.

“Me?” You ask just as the knock on the door sounds over the music.

The minute he walks in you immediately recognize that daring smirk and icy blue eyes. His face is a little older now, a five o clock shadow adorning his sharp jawline. His beach blonde curls are messy on top of his head. He’s dressed in a black t-shirt and some jeans.

“Caleb? What the hell are you doing here?” you smile widely, shocked, laughing at the coincidence. You get up to give him a quick hug. He hugs you back, bending slightly, pulling you close. He smells exactly as he did when he was 15 years old. Old spice and coffee..some things never change.

“I could ask you the same thing” he chuckles, pulling away as you sit back down. 

Jenna goes around introducing everyone and offers him a beer. Caleb takes a seat next to you, getting comfortable. You’re smiling so hard, your cheeks hurt. You didn't know how much you missed him until you saw him again. It’s comforting in a way, the way he smiles is nostalgic, bringing back old memories of you two sneaking out to parties and then getting caught right as you’re about to make it out of your bedroom window.

“So how do you two know each other?” Nick speaks up for the first time since Caleb arrived. His eyes are narrowed, sharp and almost accusing as he questions him. His jaw clenches and the grip on his beer tightens. You swallow hard. 

“Been friends since forever, our dads used to work together” he smiles, placing a hand on your leg as he speaks. Nick’s eyes are laser focused. Your stomach starts churning, nerves bubbling up like they usually do whenever you know things are about to get uncomfortable.

“Funny, our dads work together too” he says dryly.

“So funny” Noah deadpans, shooting Nick a glare.

“Anyways, what brings you here Caleb?’ Noah asks with a friendly smile.

“Art school actually. Met Lion at the races and that's when I saw Y/n again”

As the night goes on, you spend some time catching up and cracking jokes with the group. Jenna suggests a game of spin the bottle, making it clear that there's no feelings involved and unsurprisingly Lion has no problem with it.

You're kind of nervous and excited at the same time, you’re not good at the no feelings involved concept. Clearly.

 You’re a bit tipsy, giggly, face flushed as you all sit in a circle on the floor, an empty beer bottle in the middle to decide your fate. Your body is warm with the alcohol coursing through your veins and your heart races in your chest at the possibility of kissing Nick, even if it’s just a game.

You’re up first, your fingers almost tremble with anticipation as you spin the bottle, saying a little prayer in your head. The bottle lands on Caleb and your heart sinks to the bottom of your feet.Out of the corner of your eye you notice the way Nick tenses up, his body rigid under the dim lights. You don't look at him, you can't, not with everyone’s eyes on you.

 You chuckle nervously, rubbing your hands on your jeans, watching as Caleb smiles, grinning that boyish grin of his. His eyes are so electric blue it's almost shocking to look at him. His lips are pink, a little thin and uneven with a light moustache above his top lip. 

Nothing like Nick at all.

The group cheers loudly, chanting and teasing before you and Caleb meet halfway in the circle, lips touching briefly. It’s nice,quick, nothing like you’ve imagined but nice. You feel a pang of guilt when you pull away, you manage a smile anyway, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.

After a few more rounds of cheekiness, the bottle doesn't land on you again. Nick taps out after the second round, having had to kiss Zach wasn't as appealing to him. Feeling parched you excuse yourself to the kitchen for a glass of water.

It’s much quieter in the kitchen, the black and white walls drowning out the sound of drunken laughter and music. The sound of running water fills the quiet and you take a moment to gather your thoughts. You smile to yourself, humming to the words of the music. It was good to see Caleb again.

“You let him kiss you” the wet glass almost slips through your fingers, startled by the sudden interruption. The words are so quiet yet so loud in your head, booming from every angle, almost accusing.

“It’s just a game” You attempt to justify your actions but the sound of his voice, the look of betrayal in his eyes makes your chest close, the guilt clawing at you with an iron fist, beating you up from the inside. You don't need to explain yourself to him and yet here you are.

“Right..just a game” Nick nods his head, slowly almost trying to convince himself, convince you.

“Look-” You’re ready to tell him off but he beats you to it.

“You look good together…comfortable” He stands with his hands folded across his chest, leaning against the cabinets. His jean clad legs are crossed, one ankle over the other as his eyes pierce through your skin, like a father to his young daughter. His eyes are cold and distant, not something you’re used to.

“He’s my friend” you swallow under the weight of his gaze.The tension in the air is so heavy it almost hurts to breathe as it presses down on your chest.

“Does he know what a slut you are?” His words knock the wind out of your chest, piercing through your heart like an arrow, except he’s not cupid. You breathe in sharply, your hands tremble and you're immediately sober. You watch him for a beat, hoping that he’d take it back, apologize and say he didn't mean it, but he doesn't say anything further.

You struggle to find the words to say, your brain scrambling to do anything but cry. 

“Fuck you Nick” you say through the lump in your throat and hot tears that barely have time to sink into your skin. You bring your lower lip between your teeth, clenching your fist, your nails digging into your skin to keep you from crying.

-

Your bed sheets don't smell like him anymore, neither does the hoodie he left. It feels like an ancient relic gathering dust in the corner of your room. A testament to how long it’s been since he’s been there. It taunts you with a familiarity that you don't wanna remember but can’t seem to forget.

It's cold without him next to you. The bed doesn't  feel the same and watching Grey’s anatomy just brings the unwanted stinging of hot tears behind your eyes.

You don't see Nick for a while and maybe it's a good thing. Days turned into weeks and now you don't even see him at all. You try to convince yourself that it’s for the best, you knew it was just temporary between you two. So why does it feel like you lost a part of yourself to him? 

Why does it feel like time is slowing down and you're just waiting for him to knock on your door with your favorite donuts or flowers. It’s like a moment in time forever frozen in this constant state of sadness and shame that’s not yours to carry but you do it anyway.

You’ve only ever broken up with 2 other guys so why does this feel like the worst break up…you weren't even dating. You were nothing but a convenient arrangement to each other. A concept that's all too familiar in your brain but your heart never stood a chance.

It’s 2 am and you’re scrolling on Instagram when his name pops up. Your heart jumps at the unexpected notification. You see that he’s tagged in a photo. 

He’s at a party with Anna.

They look cosy, her in his lap and him with a drink in his hand, not the usual beer but it looks like a glass of whiskey. She’s smiling, her teeth on display while he just sits there with an unreadable expression, his eyes void of any emotion, cold and unpresent in the moment.

You don't know where the surge of pettiness came from but the green monster battles the ugly sadness you feel in your chest and wins. You quickly like the post and comment a cheeky “Cute”. 

Immediately your phone rings, his name popping up above the picture. Your heart races in your chest, your pulse heavy in your temples. You debate on whether or not to answer but before it goes to voicemail you press accept. Your heart longs to hear his voice, yearns for just a little dose of your usual fix.

“Can I come over?” he asks after a pregnant pause, neither of you speaking, just listening to each other breathing.

You don't know if you’re ready to see him so soon, especially after he said what he did.

“I don't wanna see you Nick” you whisper, almost as if saying it aloud is wrong, unnatural.

“Please?” he pleads with you.

“Okay” you relent hanging up the phone before you change your mind.

You let out a deep breath. 

What are you doing Y/n? 

You lay flat on your back, looking at the white ceiling. You sigh. You don't know why you agreed to let him come over but you can't be stuck in this constant cycle of wondering how different things would be if you just spoke to each other, be mature about it.

He arrives 10 minutes later, climbing through your window with practiced ease and finesse. You don't say anything when he stands across the room, hesitant and slightly awkward. He usually has a lot to say, but not this time.

“Tongue tied?” You tease, sitting with your legs crossed on your bed. You’re still mad at him.

“Yes, I don't know where to start” he runs a hand over his face. He looks tired. He has a new bruise under his eye and his knuckles are bruised as well. It doesn't take a genius to know he went fighting again. He decides to take a seat on your desk chair, creating some distance between you two.

“How about an apology?” you roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean what I said…I was pissed” he confesses with a heavy sigh. You wanna reach out and hold him, your hands itch with the thought. He sits bent over with his elbows on his thighs.

“About what? Caleb? That we played a stupid game..you know it didn't mean anything-” You shouldn't have to defend yourself to him but you do..you do because you want him to care, you want him to be bothered by it. Kissing Caleb felt unnatural, like a mismatched puzzle piece being shoved into your frayed edges. He felt so ordinary and bland, even though you’ve known him your whole life, you thought you knew what to expect. You’ve thought about kissing Caleb since you were 15. 

But you don't want ordinary, you want Nick Leister.

“He kissed you Y/N.” he says with so much conviction in his voice it hurts.It hurts to look at him and see such an intense shade of grey, a storm cloud brewing in his eyes, clouding them.

“What are you really mad about? That I kissed him or because you were too much of a coward to kiss me yourself?” You’re fed up with the entire situation at this point. The secrets, the glances, the indifference when you’re around your friends…all of it. Your heart is racing, blood rushing through your veins, heating you up.

“How was I supposed to know you wanted me to kiss you?” he stands up abruptly and you’re forced to look up at him, getting on your sock clad feet as well. He stands like a gloomy tower, shielding you, hiding you.

“Hmm gee, I don't know, maybe when we were laid up in this room the other night? You pride yourself on ‘knowing women’ and yet you can't tell when a girl wants you to kiss her!” You mock him, with crossed arms. You don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. The words spill out without a second thought, heated and annoyed.

“Maybe I want you to say it. If you want me to kiss you then just say it because I’m not afraid to admit that I want to do more than just kiss you all the time Y/n” He bursts out, taking a step closer, invading your space and you forget to breathe, his words a bounce from wall to wall in your chest, vibrating melodies against your ribcage.

“I don't want you to just kiss me” you find your voice in a whisper, barely there and shaky. Your hands are clammy and the butterflies perform somersaults in your belly. His scent is almost too overwhelming..he’s everywhere yet not close enough, you wonder if he can see the pounding of your heart in your neck, pulse racing. 

“I was stupid to think I could do this whole friends with benefits thing with you and not fall in love with you after the first night”

“What?” let out an unsteady breath.

“It took seeing you with another guy, to realise how much of myself I’d lose if you broke this off” His voice is raw, eyes glassy and sincere. You’ve never known him to ever be this emotional, this vulnerable and open about his feelings.

“Nick-”

“From the moment I met you I wanted you. I wanted to know everything there was to know but I wasn't ready for you. I knew I wasn't the best guy for you but I’m working on it..I just need to know that you want this..because I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted” 

“I do” you breathe out, the words rushing from your heart before you can stop them.

He lets out a shaky laugh, his shoulders relaxing for the first time tonight. "Good" he says. "Because it would be really awkward if I said all that and you didn’t."

You grin, warmth flooding your chest. "Right?"

A glint of mischief flashes in his eyes as he takes a slow step closer. "So basically, I'm asking you to pick me... choose me... love me" he teases, quoting Grey’s Anatomy, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

You roll your eyes, fighting a laugh. "Shut up and kiss me, you jerk."

Nick didn't need to be told a second time before he closes the gap between you two. His warm hand finds the side of your face, leaning into you like you’re the last thing he’ll ever feel. His lips brush against yours, teasing before he presses into you. 

You gasped softly against his mouth, the way his lips move with yours, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth like he’s familiar with the path. He tastes of whiskey, pulling you flush against him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, breathing him in. His body, warm, solid, grounding you even as the room tilts around you, making it hard to tell where you end and he begins.

For a minute you’re floating, the earth tilting on its axis. You kiss him until you feel dizzy, lips moving in sync, hungry and starved. Your body craves him more than you need air. Every cell in your body awakens at the feeling of his lips on yours, celebrating, crying tears of joy.

“You like meeee” Nick murmurs, smiling against our lips. You giggle at the exact moment he’s chosen to tease you. You give him one last peck before pulling away, breaths coming in short bursts, bringing your hands up to cup both sides of face, squishing his hot cheeks slightly.

He smiles down at you, eyes gleaming with specks of joy, relief and something you know all too well. “I love you” you breathe out, your words are shaky, almost as if to test them, watching as his breath hitches in his throat.

You realize you never said it back earlier and there's not a moment that you’ll ever let him forget how much he means to you. If you love someone, you tell them. You tell them so they never forget that they mean something to someone.

Nick Leister looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky, like you’ve created a galaxy full of stars and none shines brighter than you. 

You are the sun around which his world orbits.

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

Inspiration is a flaky bastard who shows up when you’re in the shower, not when you’re sitting at your desk. 

Write anyway. You don’t need to feel like writing to write.

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

“You fall in love with the little things about someone, like the sound of their laughter and the way their smile forms.”

— Unknown

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

The ghost in my room at 3am listening to me talk to myself about the fic I’m reading

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

Rightttttt!!!!

The lack of Edward Horniman fics is criminal

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]

Trouble

Content Warning : None

Word count: 2627

The night is dark and cold, heavy with mist and the smell of burnt tires and exhaust smoke fill the air as you step onto the track. Cars fill up every corner, the sound of cheering, laughter and cheeky banter can be heard for miles. You find your usual group, Jenna, Lion and Zack.. The dreadful Nick Leister has yet to show up.

“Hey guys” You greet everyone with a tight lipped smile. Jenna hugs you from the side, her touch a welcoming heat lingering just enough so her vanilla scent covers your clothes.

“You racing tonight babe?” She asks when she pulls away. You put your hands in your jacket pocket, the cool air nipping at your skin before shaking your head.

“Nah, tryna stay out of trouble tonight” you say watching as Lion scoffs at your comment.

“What?” You ask, watching him light his cigarette, the stench filling the air, overpowering and intrusive.

“You out of trouble? That's your middle name, "he says, blowing out smoke. You roll your eyes, leaning against Jenna’s car, the cold metal zinging through your body.

You had to stay out of trouble, especially tonight. Your dad’s home for the week, which is always dreadful and unpleasant to say the least. He’s always been strict, cold and emotionally distant. But when it comes to you and your hobbies, granted your hobbies are a little illegal, he seems to be on you like icing on cake, and not the good kind  (fondant). 

You know he has his image to protect, God forbid he cares about anything else.

“I mean it, the boss man’s home for the week” you scoff, rolling your eyes. Everyone knows how strict and tough your dad is. But sometimes you wish it didn't have to take you almost getting arrested, to get a reaction out of him. 

“So daddy let you out to play tonight?” Your entire body tenses up when you hear his dreadful voice.. before you even see him. You look up to see Nick and Noah arrive. Noah, you can stand, she's nice, pretty and most importantly, not Nick. 

“I see you’re out from under Anna’s clutches then?” You say pushing yourself off the car to stand up on your feet. You look up to him, something you feel he doesn't deserve. Such a pretty face and yet so ugly at the same time.

“Why? Jealous?” his lips curve up into a smirk, that same infuriating smirk that made you win him in a race. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face and boyyyy did you. It was your first encounter with him and he’ll never forget it, arguing that you cheated. How? You don't even know.

You let out a loud scoff, rolling your eyes at his absurd question. Why would you be jealous? If anything you should be thanking Anna for her service to humanity. For keeping him locked up so you don't have to see him. You thank God for small mercies everyday.

“Oi, wanna hit the club on 4th?” Zach asks the group before you could say anything further. You keep your mouth shut, letting the group arrange the plans on how to get there. You can't help but glare at Nick, your eyes never leaving his, daring one another to look away first. Everything has to be a contest with him, always wanting to one up you, wanting to be the center of attention. Or at least that's what you think.

When you get to the club, you stick with Noah and Jenna. The vibes are on, music pumping, drinks flowing, dancing and grinding. The lights flashing shades of red, green and blue from a disco ball in the center of the ceiling. The bar is packed with people and the lines out front are even longer. Zach managed to get you in instantly.

The smell of sweat, alcohol and weed fill the air, swimming up your nose, wanting to be noticed. Noah pulls you and Jenna to the only vacant booth, the cool stools send out a wave of ice through your thighs as you sit down, leaning your arms onto the table, avoiding any sticky spots. You happen to like your outfit.

“What’s up with you and Nick?” Noah smirks, lifting her chin in the direction of the bar. Jenna lets out a cackle.

“Sorry?” You blink. Maybe you didn't hear her properly. There’s NOTHING up with you and Nick, you wouldn't even call him your friend.. not even an acquaintance.

“She’s talking about the bickering babe, just smash and get it over with” Jenna says candidly and if you had a drink you would’ve choked on it. Your eyes widen at her words, shocked and utterly disgusted. You almost throw up in your mouth.

“I wouldn’t sleep with Nick if he was the last man on earth AND the entire universe depended on us procreating. We’d go extinct” you exaggerate wildly, feeling your body get worked up at the thought.

The thought of his hands on you, his lips on your neck…trailing down slowly kissing, biting, grazing you with his perfectly straight teeth…all the way down until he's on his knees. What would it be like? Would he be gentle or rough? How would he feel against you? Would you trail your fingers down his toned abs or tug at his curls. Would he talk you through it? Whispering sweet nothings in your ear while making your body tremble, hands gripping his sheets, hearing his groans as he hovers over you. Would he make you beg?

You feel a shiver down your spine, goosebumps on your exposed legs and heat everywhere else. You hope your face isn't as red and cheeks not as flushed as you feel it is.

You don't know how long you’ve zoned out but Zach’s voice growing louder is enough to bring you out of your thoughts. The interruption is like a bucket of cold water, attempting to cool you down but all it does is sizzle on your skin evaporating into thin air. The guys are back with the drinks. 

Noah and Jenna give you a knowing smirk, as the boys set down the drinks.. Nick just so happens to have the only blue drink in his hands, sipping on the straw taunting you, his pink lips wrapped around it like plastic.

You narrow your eyes at him. He knows that's your favorite. He offers you a beer and you scowl at him frustration bubbling in your chest. You cant believe this is the guy you were thinking about two seconds ago.

“Sorry, did you want this one?” He lifts the drink in his hand, the very hands you were being tortured by in your unwanted thoughts. You feel dirty.

“Dick” You mutter, grabbing the beer from him. He chuckles, knowing he’s got under your skin but not knowing exactly how much. He takes a seat across from you, getting comfortable in the too small seat. 

His legs stretch out under the table, his knee touching yours. The contact is so subtle and yet it feels like your knee is on fire spreading throughout your body, rapidly. You hate that your body has this stupid reaction to his, you almost forget how to breathe as you try to look at literally everyone else but the idiot right across from you.

Your mind is scattered, unfocused when the girls ask if you’d wanna go dance. You quickly nod your head, relief filling your mind and body, soul and whatever else you’re made up of. You leave your beer unopened, condensation melting onto the table. You feel his eyes on you as you get up, accidentally looking up straight into it. Your reflexes kick in, fast and you quickly divert your eyes, ignoring the challenging look in his eyes, clouded with lust and whatever else he feels in his spare time.

You could not get out of there fast enough. As soon as you girls hit the dance floor it's like a wave of calm rushes over you. You can feel the breeze on your face, the smell of the ocean, the sound of waves crashing on shore with a margarita in your hand. Peace…calm…your happy place.

“This is my songggg…” Noah exclaims interrupting Jenna mid sentence, to be honest, you weren’t even paying attention to what she was saying. She grabs you both by the hand, pulling you both deeper onto the dance floor. You and Jenna share a look, giggling as you dance your way through a swarm of sweaty bodies. 

You dance with your girls, your body moving to the beat, hands in your hair, then on Noah’s shoulders and Jenna’s waist, having a good time under the changing lights. You guys joke and laugh at certain moments, enjoying.. savoring the moment of freedom. It feels like summer, or as summery as London can get.

“I’m gonna go get a drink” You decide, yelling over the music watching as they confirm they've heard you. You feel annoyed as you remember the beer that stands untouched on the table. You look over to the booth on your way to the bar, only to see Zach and Lion sipping on beers, talking.

Your heart drops a little in your chest. Were you hoping to see Nick uncomfortable as you were, maybe watching you? Did you even want that? Did you want him?? 

You shake your head when you see him at the bar, chatting up some poor blonde girl. You watch as he leans in to whisper something in her ear. She nods her head and he’s off to wherever.

You don't miss the light layer of sweat on his forehead and neck, the beads of water are barely visible but you always notice unnecessary things about him. The way he twists his ring on his finger when he’s annoyed (that's you favorite tell), or the way he fiddles with his silver chain when he’s trying to act nonchalant about something that he’s feeling very chalant about.

You decide to mess with him. A mischievous grin makes its way on your face, devious and mildly evil thoughts fill your brain and you quickly walk up to the girl. He must have a thing for blondes because she looks like another carbon copy of Anna.

She’s shocked, a little startled to see you in front of her so suddenly.

“Hey…are you with that Nick guy?” you ask feigning curiosity and innocence as best you can. 

“Yeah..do you know him?” She asks hesitantly, confused as she furrows her brow, playing with the lemon edge around her glass.

“Yeah…I’m just here, girl to girl to warn you that he has syphilis” you wince at the last word, mentally smiling. You watch as her hesitancy turns into disgust, her lips pulling upward as she scrunches her nose.

“Really? How do you know” she whispers, coming in closer as if revealing a secret.

“Because he gave it to me” you whisper.

Her eyes widen at your confession and the poor girl apologizes instantly, reaching for your arm. You almost feel bad for lying to her, she seems sweet. But you’re actually saving her. You nod your head, thanking her for her kind words before making your way to the other side of the bar, walking away with a smirk on your face. 

You catch Zach and Lion, shaking their heads with a chuckle. They already know you’re up to something. You order a drink from the bar and take a seat. You relax in your barstool, lazily sipping on your drink waiting for Nick to arrive so you can watch the scene unfold.

Your heart lurches in your chest, giddy as you watch him come back from wherever he's run off to, confidence in his step and a charming smile adorning his face. It’s such a shame that face of his is attached to such an annoying, competitive and vile personality. Your heart sings when you notice her walk away, a sense of victory flows through your chest as his smile falls from his face. 

Almost instantly his eyes zero in on you, wild and accusing. How’d he find you so fast, the bar is literally the most crowded space in the club. You try not to think too much about it…about how instantly his eyes managed to find you across a crowded room.. or how stormy they look when he makes his way over, sauntering with a type of ease that makes you nervous. Why are you nervous?

“Syphilis huh? Couldn't have said anything else?” he takes the seat next to yours, pulling it a little too close to yours. His close enough for you to breathe in his aftershave, his knee finding yours again like Isaac Newton found gravity. His jeans almost chafing your exposed skin. His eyes have a magnetic pull, sucking you in to die and be buried under a pool of chocolate.

“It worked didn't it? You don't get laid tonight” you smile doing a little victory dance in your seat before going back to suck on your straw. Nick eyes zero in on the pink plastic between your teeth, dilated, lingering a little before drifting to your lips. 

“What's got you so worried about who I sleep with..huh?” He asks, his voice low enough so that only the two of you could hear. He leans in closer as he takes the drink from in front of you, now slowly swirling the straw in the glass, your lipgloss still on the top, wet and shiny.

“I’m not” Your mouth is dry as you watch his hands, quickly fluttering back to his face, which is even worse because he’s not smirking anymore, any and all amusement and smugness has vacated the conversation. You’re left with a Nick you’ve never seen before…never experienced before. Your heart skips in your chest, the air thickens around you as a weird feeling quills in your belly. You feel like a fish out of water, suffocating under the dim lights and the overwhelming intensity which is him as a whole.

“Cause if you were worried..I’d tell you..they've got nothing on you” he whispers, daring you to look him in the eye. Your breath hitches in your throat, your minding searching for something sarcastic or witty but you're stuck, trapped in the emotional whirlpool in his eyes. You hang onto every word he says. You can't trust him and most importantly, you can't trust yourself.

You should look away but you can’t. You can't breathe… you can't think… not when he looks like he’ll do anything to touch you, even just a little graze of your pinkies touching in passing.. His eyes roam your face like he's taking a mental picture, burning it into his memory before you feel the weight of his gaze, heavy on your lips.

It tingles in anticipation, your mouth watering at the thought of his lips on yours. The air around him feels electric, like if you were to reach out and run your fingers through his curls you’d get shocked, electrocuted…like a bolt of lightning would go through your body, bringing every cell to life.

“Hey guys, can I borrow your phone Y/n” Noah comes from behind you, snapping you out of the trance he’s put you in, chest heaving slightly with pink cheeks. You let out a shaky breath before smiling at her, happy for the interruption.

“Yeah yeah, sure” you fish your phone out from your pocket and hand it over to her. She takes the phone from your hand, eyes meeting yours, widening at the intensity of the situation she’s stepped into. She mouths a ‘wow’ so only you could see.

“Wanna head outside with me? I need to call my mom” she asks and you jump at the opportunity.

“Yeah, I could use some air” You nod your head, taking your drink from Nick, the tips of your fingers grazing his, sending a crackling spark through your arm. You ignore him as your body registers the absence of his knee against yours, his heat evaporating instantly.

You throw the drink back quickly, swallowing before slapping the empty glass on the table.

“You got that right?” 

Nick’s eyes linger on you, watching as you walk away with his sister, her figure getting smaller and smaller until you’re out the door. He exhales slowly, a quiet laugh escaping him as he pulls out his wallet to pay.

“She’s trouble” he mutters to himself as his heart skips a beat at the thought of you.

[spencerreidswifeeeeeee]