Vasseur was recently interviewed and asked the rumours about him and Vigna not agreeing on how to manage Ferrari. He said he has more power of decision and means now in Ferrari than he ever had.
On people leaving he said it's inevitable. Those who were very close to Mattia may prefer to leave and it doesn't bother him. He also added other May be leaving or looking elsewhere for a job ‘cause the fear for their future.
He finds it hard to understand why the team is being targeted after only one race. The correlation between the simulation and the track is in line with what they were expecting and they’re working on it.
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Do You Need The Sandman?
Pairing - Johnson (Reprisal) x Fem!Reader
Summary - It's midnight and all Johnson wants is to hear your pretty voice on the other end of the line.
Word count - 497
Warnings - smoking, so many uses of pet names, yearning, Johnson being slightly horny for you
A/N - Love how I'm literally only writing for Johnson so far. Originally this was supposed to be smut but I decided against it at the last minute. (Loosely inspired by the song Evangeline by Stephen Sanchez)
Johnson took a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke coat his tongue. In his other hand he held a sleek black phone that was connected to a barely kept together phone booth. A stream of live band music spilled into the streets whenever someone walked inside the bar, reminding him he wasn’t alone.
Pick up, baby.
He cradled the phone to his ear, holding onto it as if the device might disappear in his hands. Maybe you were asleep, or simply weren’t home-
“H-Hello?” your sweet voice came through the receiver, stalling his thoughts. A strange sense of relief washed over him.
“It’s me, angel.” he said, plucking the cigarette from his lips. He could hear you shuffling around, turning on the lamp beside your bed.
“Well hello, lover boy.” you eventually said, giggling in his ear. His heart fluttered at the sound, as he firmly pressed the phone against his cheek. The time on his watch read 12 a.m.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized, flicking the cigarette. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”
His stomach twisted at your silence, tugging at the phone cord as some mease distraction as he waited.
You sighed into the phone, “It’s fine, I wasn't getting much sleep.” You fell silent again, weighing something in your mind.
“Too busy thinking about you anyway.”
He perked up, snuffing out his cigarette as he propped his arm up on the phone stand. People continued to filter in and out through the bar door, drunkenly making their way past him without another thought.
“Been thinkin about you too, angel face.” he confessed, his voice nearly a whisper. He could picture you lying there right now, phone held up to your ear, hand grasping onto it like a lifeline. The mattress hugging the curves of your body, the sky blue nightie you adored rising up over your stomach whenever you moved around. Your own hands running down the sides of your soft body, teasing him over the phone.
“Been thinking about you a whole lot,” he muttered, the sight of you in his mind vanishing. You giggled again, amused. He closed his eyes, greedily drinking in the sound.
“I’m curious to know just how much I’ve been on your mind, Johnson.”
Your sugary voice was almost mocking, causing his heart to wince.
He glanced back at the bar door, contemplating. The minutes ticked away on his watch, yet it felt as if time didn’t move at all. The sight of you appeared in his mind again, all blue and all soft.
“Stay awake for me, doll.”
You hummed, “Will do, doe eyes.” before promptly hanging up.
He hung the phone back up, flicking his cigarette on the ground. The warm night air brushed against the nape of his neck. He began walking, the mere thought of you in his mind pulling his body toward your presence.
Behind him, the lively sound of bar music and laughter filled the parking lot.
So, don't go to sleep, don't rest your head
I'll be the pillow, and I'll be the bed
Holding your dreams as you lie to rest
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