#Watching it i kept thinking “there's no possible way the podium ends up that way”

[bring-subaru-back-to-wrc]

i accidentally saw the podium before the race and i thought it would have ruined the race for me but... Not one bit. Wow what a race. What a race!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!!

“I need you, why do you always leave me?” With Narinder from Cotl with a reincarnated mortal s/o who always dies young? I’m such a sucker for this kind of troupe oh my lawd

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!

Ong this trope is so good it hurts </3

Request more angst/horror prompts here!

.......

"Lamb, you must perform the resurrection ritual again."

"Narinder, it's barely been two days.." With a weary sigh, the sheep closed their gospel book, already becoming irritated with their former master's blunt request. "I may have taken your role as death, but even I have my limits. I can't just do that ritual whenev-"

"I had to bury my spouse yet again."

".....oh." A small pit in formed in their stomach, knowing exactly who he was talking about. "Again? What happened this time?"

"Some fool thought it would be funny to dare [y/n] to eat a deadly dish...and they accepted it, only to die puking their guts out." Narinder huffed, although deep inside it killed him to know that your death this time around was entirely avoidable.

He never thought he'd ever care for a mortal..much less one of Lamb's first followers, who somehow kept dying young and became the first one they resurrected.

Your existence has become a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth, and he wondered when they'll finally accept that you're simply not meant to live a prolonged life.

However, now that he himself was in the cult and wedded to you...he saw things differently. From a new perspective.

After you died once right before his very eyes--and not through the Red Crown--he suddenly understood that same grief Lamb endured ugh after they killed one of their spouses, who became mind-controlled by Shamura.

He thought of them as weak.

But not anymore.

Not when it became his turn to suffer in a similar fashion, counting the hours (or days, even) until Lamb could resurrect you.

He lost count of how many times you've died since then, although he knows you aren't trying to kill yourself on purpose. You were very "accident-prone" and sometimes did stupid things that you shouldn't have---such as accepting a dare to eat a "deadly dish" stew.

You might've been a fool for that, but he still loved you.

Unfortunately, not even the golden skull necklace Lamb gifted you provided any protection from death....besides old age, of course.

At least Narinder knew you'd never pass away naturally, but knowing it couldn't spare you from other causes didn't make him feel any better.

"Fine..I will do the resurrection at dawn." Lamb finally caved, understanding how much you truly meant to him. "But you must talk to [y/n] about this. With each rebirth, they slowly forget more and more of their past lives."

"....is that so?" The black feline raised an eyebrow, surprised.

This was new information to him--although he never exactly had the chance to revive somebody over and over, except for his former vessel whenever they foolishly perished during a crusade.

But they were very different.

They were nigh-immortal...you weren't.

"First they forgot how they previously died, then they forgot which shelter they slept it, and then they forgot how to cook their favorite meal...you see where I'm going with this?"

He didn't speak, afraid that his former vessel was correct. But it's not something he wanted to think about at all...even though it's certainly possible.

Suddenly he was beginning to realize the repercussions of the same doctrine that got him exiled over a millennia ago..

"I can't watch over them all the time..as their spouse you're gonna have to step it up, or else...they might-"

"Just do the ritual, please.."

Lamb's ears flicked up with surprise, never expecting Narinder to grovel at their podium. The only other time he acted this way was when he begged them to kill him instead of sparing his life, although it didn't do him much good as they chose mercy.

But this time, they felt a bit of pity for him.

He must truly care about you.

They simply nodded. "I will need more bones."

.........

You found yourself back in a familiar place:

Floating over a glowing red sigil, followers in hoods kneeling all around you, Lamb's eyes glowing with a powerful energy....and you expelling ichor from your body in a rather disgusting display.

You never did get used to puking out this black magical goop.

But once you landed on the floorboards of the temple, you sighed in relief, wiping your mouth on your sleeve before gazing at everyone surrounding you.

"So...what have I missed?"

A few of them uncovered their hoods and greeted you, happy to see you return to the land of the living. Others kept their distance, looking rather annoyed that Lamb decided to resurrect you for the umpteenth time.

One, however, stood there motionless, refusing to remove his own hood.

You looked to him, watching as he approached you, being unsure of his intentions. Although judging from the way other followers hastily moved out of his way...this person must have held great influence over them.

The fact that he had three glowing red eyes was most alluring.

Have you met him before?

Before you could ask him who he was, he suddenly grabbed you by the wrist. "H-Hey! Ouch!" You winced, feeling his claws slightly digging into you as he began dragging you out of the temple.

"Where are you taking me??"

"....stop talking."

His voice was low and quiet, and also....sad?

You were immensely confused by this mystery follower's behavior, especially as he led you to his hut--one that was more decorative than the standard shelters on the other side of the cult grounds.

While you remained silent, you couldn't help being bedazzled by the outside of it, although you didn't have time to really get a good look around the inside.

Because the next thing you knew...

You were pushed onto the bed, with him crawling onto it and laying beside you. Then he uncovered his hood, two long cat ears flicking upwards as his eyes met yours for a brief moment.

And in that split second, you swore they were filled to the brim with tears.

You blinked, afraid to speak considering how angry he sounded just moments ago, but you were even more perplexed when he flopped onto your chest. From his throat, a purring sound rumbled, and you could feel it throughout your entire body....and in your very soul.

"Please..don't do this to me..." His ears flattened.

"Do....what?" Reaching down, you awkwardly placed a hand on his head, slowly petting his fur and hoping it provided him some comfort. "I don't know what's wrong, but..I hope this is okay."

Your uncertain tone only further devastated Narinder. This was exactly how you'd comfort him after his nightmares. He only ever allowed you to see him in such moments of vulnerability, so you never needed to ask for his permission. You would simply do it.

Had you forgotten that, too?

Was that damned Lamb right after all?

Were you forgetting.....him?

"I need you, why do you always leave me?" He mumbled, heartbroken as the tears slid down his cheeks, droplets splattering onto the symbol adorning your ragged shirt. "With each new life, I-I'm...losing more and more of you, [y/n]. I don't know if you are cursed or if it's fate deciding to test me....o-or maybe Lamb's followers wish to see me suffer....but...I'm so tired of watching you die and being unable to do anything about it. I've taken you for granted.."

"................."

".....forget it. You don't even know what day of the week it is..why do I bother trying?" With a sniffle, he reluctantly removed himself from your arms, believing he blew his last chance to save your memories..

Now you were acting like a total stranger to him, and it honestly felt as though you had already died before you even left the temple.

Maybe this was a sign that he needed to stop and move on.

Maybe he simply wasn't destined for love.

Maybe this was karma for all the atrocities committed in his name.

Maybe the next time you perished, no matter the reason, he'll-

"It's easy to forget things like that, Nari...but how could I ever forget the love of my life?"

Blinking through his tears, Narinder felt his breath hitch when your hand gently grasped his own. He looked back at you with astonishment, before glancing down at the matching rings that still adorned your fingers.

Then he gazed into your eyes, seeing your smile.

"You..remember me?"

"Of course I do, you silly kit---woah!!" You were suddenly tackled back onto the bed by your husband, feeling him nuzzling up to you and purring even louder than before.

But you simply giggled and held him closely, petting his fur in a comforting way. "I'm sorry for scaring you...it takes a while for all my memories to come back. D-Did I do anything dumb last time?"

"Just...promise me you'll never accept a dare from anybody again." He huffed, trying to hide the fact he was still sniveling like a helpless kitten.

"Alright." You sighed. "I promise to be more careful. I'll try harder to watch my back, too."

"Do you swear it?"

"...I swear it."

"Good."

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 43:

What if your eyes looked up and met mine, one more time?

Masterlist - Previous - Next

"Is it true? Is Sainz senior talking with the team about a seat for Carlos?" I blurted out as soon as I walked into our hospitality, where Felix was talking to John, our head engineer.

"Come with me." he said and lead me to his office.

"He‘s available next season. My contract only runs 'till the end of this season! Valtteri’s until next… so which seat are we talking about?"

Felix ran his hand through his hair, sighing, and my stomach clenched.

"There is not a certain seat in their mind… but yes, there are talks, his father is putting the Audi board under enormous pressure." Felix confirmed.

"We both know for whose seat he’s coming." I said bitterly.

"I think so… he’s out of Ferrari at the end of this season… your contract runs out this season?"

"Does the board want to replace me with him?" I asked, although I was afraid of the answer "I know I didn’t deliver the best results last season, but I still thought we’d continue…"

"No! No, Lizzie! As long as I’m team principal, you’re my driver! I say it how it is, I want you to extend your contract with us. For at least another two years. Our first season together was brilliant. Last season was okay, but it was more on our side than on yours, I have no doubt that this season will be better and I want you to stay with us."

"Yeah but if the board doesn’t want that? If the board is rooting for Sainz?" I said defeated but Felix shook his head.

"If they kick you out for him? After the horrific amount of money he cost us last season? After he endangered you? No. If Sainz is coming, I’m going. And I won’t be the only one…"

"Are you crazy? You can’t do that!" I looked at him shocked but he smiled at me.

"We started this project together, little one, and if we have to, then we‘ll finish it on a high together and that’s final." he smiled and I had to swallow hard, blinking away the tears.

"Okay…" I said quietly and Felix hugged me.

"We all believe in you. You and Valtteri are our drivers! And just because the father of another driver thinks he can tell us what to do? No. Not on my watch."

"Thank you Felix, really." I whispered and he patted my back.

"Not for that. But you know what that means?" Felix asked and I nodded "We have a lot of work to do then…"

"Let’s kick this season off the best way possible!"

P5. Decent. Not too good. But also not too bad. We could work with that. I was happy. But I knew Charles wasn’t. Having this big of an issue in the first race of the season? After being the one driver Ferrari wanted to keep and build a future with? After all the criticism that Ferrari might’ve kept the wrong driver? After his teammate made it onto to podium and he didn’t. I knew he would’ve been devastated, so I waited at the employee parking lot, looking at the gate. When Charles walked out my heart clenched. His head down, shoulders slumped, RayBans hiding his eyes.

"Hey…" I cupped his cheek, making him look at me.

"Let’s just go, please." he sighed and I nodded, unlocking the car.

I started the engine and drove off the parking lot, speeded past the awaiting fans on the main parking lot.

"I already can see the headlines tomorrow… they got rid of the wrong driver…" Charles gritted out after a while and I groaned.

"It’s the first race of the season for fucks sake! You had problems with your brakes and still made it onto P4…" I began.

"No one cares about my brakes! Carlos was on the podium! In a car that was supposed to be harder for him to drive! He made up one position! I lost two! That’s what people will care about!" he interrupted me.

"Since when do we care what fucking other people think and say? First race of the season, Charles! 23 more to go. Stop this nonsense!"

"This year is our year my ass…" Charles grumbled after a while and I rolled my eyes.

"I was honestly hoping that you didn’t win…" I said and he looked at me, taking his RayBans off.

"What?" he sounded hurt.

"Bahrain curse…" I began and he groaned.

"Are you kidding me? I don’t believe in curses!" he said, looking out the window "Besides, Max won Bahrain last year and still won the title…"

"Yeah but he’s Max… no curse out there can stop him… not Bahrain. Not Monza. He’s immune against any curse out there… you on the other hand…"

"Well thanks for believing in me…" he whispered and I grabbed his thigh.

"I believe in you. More than anyone else. That’s why I know that the only one who can stop Max is you. And other than you I believe that this year is your year… YOURS. Not Sainz…" I said and he sighed.

"We’ll see."

"We will and you’ll see that I’m right!"

The media day in Saudi Arabia was the worst and I could see the tension in Charles shoulders, his strained smile. I tried to calm him down as much as I could but when we left the paddock at the evening the exhaustion of the day was still visible.

"How about we let off some steam?" I asked when we arrived at the hotel.

"Yes! I need that." Charles sighed.

"Paddle?"

"You know me all too well…" he chuckled as we got out of the car.

Twenty minutes later we sat down our bags on the bench and stretched a little.

"You know what’s the worst?" Charles said, taking the ball "It was the first race of the season and it already started like this…"

"Come on, it’s better than last year!"

"Maybe, but it’s not good enough… I need to get it out of my head." he shrugged.

"Okay, you listen to me now, Leclerc… you said it yourself, first race of the season. Your brakes were shit. With your car, you shouldn’t even be able to finish the race but you did. In P fucking 4. Get that in your head, okay?" I groaned but he only shook his head and got into position.

"More playing. Less talking." he said and threw the ball up in the air.

It took a while until we both found our rhythm but as soon as we both got it the battles were relentless. I hit the ball as hard as I could, unreachable for Charles, another win for me. The second for tonight.

"Do you like being tortured?" I asked out of breath, lifting my shirt to wipe away the sweat off my forehead.

"You should know the answer to that… I just extended my contract with Ferrari. For multiple years." he chuckled bitterly and took a sip out of his water bottle.

"Ouch?" I laughed putting the paddle down, grabbing his bottle to take a few sips myself.

"Now come one. I want a return match." he took the bottle out of my hand and threw it on his bag "Let’s go!"

"Oh come on… aren’t you exhausted?" I groaned but he shook his head.

"One last match…" he pleaded.

"You just want to make it a draw… you can’t lose…" I smirked and he rolled his eyes.

"Then make me lose… come on…" he was ready for my move and I laughed.

"Alright… let’s settle this."

Thirty minutes later we stood under the hot shower, washing the day away.

"We could’ve let off some steam in a different way…" Charles whispered, kissing up my neck, pulling me closer, my back flush against his chest.

"Yeah? How?" I replied, biting my lips as his hands wandered over my hips, down to my thighs.

"I don’t know… you. Me. Our bed…" he mumbled, littering my shoulder with hot kisses "Or you. Me. The shower…" he whispered in my ear, his hot breath fanning over my skin making me shudder.

His hand slipped between my thighs and I let out a breathy moan, pressing my heat against his hand.

"Shower sounds good!" I breathed out, feeling him press against my back.

"Yeah? I think so too…" Charles hand explored my heat and I moaned, leaning back into him right as he spun me around, pressing my back into the cold tiled wall. His lips crashed down on mine, sealing our mouths shut with an eager kiss full of lust and need. I threw my arms around his neck, my hands carding through his hair, pulling him closer, while our tongues fought for dominance, me on the losing side. But this was a battle I loved to lose.

"There is still some tension in my back… I swear we’re working now for months at it but it’s not getting better!" I groaned and JK stood behind me, putting pressure on my lower back.

"Honestly, it shouldn’t be like this Lizzie… not after the intense training and exercises we made specifically for your back…" he said and I hissed in pain when he applied some pressure on my spine at a certain angle.

"Maybe I have to work out even more. Need to strengthen my spine, my core more?" I gritted out but I heard him sigh.

"Yeah maybe, but honestly? I’d like you to see a doctor, when we’re back in Europe…"

"Oh come on! It’s a little sore back! It will be good in no time!" I smiled at him and bent down, stretching said sore back before I took the resistance band JK held out for me.

"I’m not saying anything else, I just want to make sure! I don’t want to see you out of the car like Sainz today…" he said.

"What do you mean? He’s not racing? He’s out? Like completely?" I leaned back, pulling at the resistance band and JK nodded.

"Bearman will drive his car today and tomorrow."

"Ollie? Are you kidding me?" I stopped, looking up.

"Nope." JK put the band away and grabbed the tennis balls "Come on, focus now."

"He will only have FP3? Damn!" I mumbled, catching the tennis ball.

"I mean, it won’t be easy…"

"Definitely not, but Ollie is a damn good driver, I’m sure he will be able to adapt fast!"

"That’s what I said as well…" Charles hugged me from behind, kissing my cheek.

"Hey! Go away! You’re trying to distract my driver!" Felix joked when he walked by.

"Oh, don’t worry Felix, nothing can distract me, not even this handsome little fella…" I laughed and Charles pinched my side.

"Who are you calling little?" he whispered in my ear.

"Oh come on love birds! Get a room." JK laughed.

"Nope." Charles spun me around and kissed me.

"What’s gotten into you?" I breathed against his lips, feeling the heat rising up my face.

"I just love you? Can’t I show that?" he pouted, looking adorably.

"Yeah but not like in public. Not like that?" I whispered and he sighed.

"Cara mia, no one cares? Why do you?" Charles cupped my cheeks and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don’t know…" I replied and he pecked my lips.

"Exactly, there is no reason for that. So let me give you one last kiss and then I’ll see you on track." he kissed me gently and I melted into his body "Bye gorgeous girl…"

I looked after him, the sweltering heat of Saudi Arabia burning me up.

"Earth to Lizzie?" JK threw a ball at me and I blinked, rubbing my arm "We’re not done yet."

"Huh?" I looked at him confused and he threw the next ball, this time I caught it though.

"Good reaction… now come on!"

I climbed out of the car when an F1 official walked up to me.

"Lizzie, you’re P3." he smiled and I took off my helmet and balaclava.

"What do you mean?" I was confused.

"Checo got a 5 second penalty, so you’re in P3!"

"Are you kidding me?" I laughed when someone engulfed me from behind.

"First podium of the season, let’s fucking go!" Danny Ric chanted and I squealed a little "Let me take you to your man!"

"Put me down you doofus!" I chuckled but Daniel carried me all the way to the top 3 cars.

"And here we have our third place, Lizzie Doetterer! Lizzie, congrats! P3. First podium of the season. How was the race for you?" Crofty asked and I took the microphone that someone held out to me.

"Umm right now, I’m a little speechless to be honest. We had a good weekend? I mean yeah it could’ve been better in terms of the quali pace, but in the race we were there and yeah now I’m in P3." I answered, smiling at him and waving at the crowd, some Germany flags in the sea of people.

"Well, you were close to Checo the whole race, switching positions every other week, last lap then and it seemed he pushed you wide?"

"We battled hard and then in turn 7 or 8 he might’ve turned a little into me and I had to go wide, but I didn’t think it would result in a penalty." I said honestly.

"Yeah, we didn’t hear you complain on the radio?" Crofty looked at me and I nodded.

"Because I honestly didn’t think it was that bad? Yeah sure, I had to leave the track but I don’t know… I mean I’m happy, I take it. But yeah… it’s like that." I shrugged a little.

"It sure is. Thank you Lizzie! Enjoy your podium!" Crofty nodded and I handed the guy next to him the microphone, jumping into Charles awaiting arms.

"First podium of the season, cara mia." he kissed my cheek and I smiled.

"Same for you! Well done!"

I wanted to say something when we were ushered away, into the cool down room and then onto the podium.

When we were finally done with the media, the press conference long over as well as our team meetings we drove back to our hotel.

"See! Today was a good day! Overall you had an amazing weekend! You just need to believe in yourself. Today P3 and in 2 weeks then P1!" I smiled at him and he took my hand in his, kissing the back of it.

"For me it would be enough to be in front of Carlos…" he sighed and I nodded.

"You will be. I believe in you!"

I sighed and put the phone down, right when it rang again.

"Hi Julie."

"So I guess Netflix called already…" she asked.

"Yeah. They want to film a little private stuff, then they want to be in Australia, Miami, Monaco and they also want to come to Hockenheim, my home race is something they definitely want to film."

"Lizzie, I say it how it is, they wanted to release the show last summer. They postponed it to fall, then to winter. We need to deliver now, you need to deliver now. Or they will release what they have but take away your right of review… just let them film you. Let them come home, maybe how you prepare for a race weekend or something, just give them something… and then let’s move forward." she sighed and I nodded.

"I know, I’ll think about what they could film here and yeah… we’ll see. Let them come to Australia, Miami, Monaco and Hockenheim. The rest I’ll deal with." I replied.

"Alright, I leave you to it. See you in Australia."

"Yup, see you in Australia." I hung up and plopped back down into the pillows, groaning. I switched the TV on and decided shuffled through Netflix until I found what I’ve been looking for. I pressed play and watched a very special episode of DTS.

"There he is… the worst actor the world has seen." I laughed when Charles walked through the door, sitting up.

"What do you mean?" he asked confused and I nodded towards the TV.

" 'Yeah, maybe that was a little bit over-the-top' … I wasn’t aware I was watching an episode of Keeping up with Ferrari…"

"Oh shut it…" Charles rolled his eyes, plopping down next to me "They told me to say it, what was I supposed to do?"

"Is DTS now a scripted show or what?" I said, pressing play again.

"Don’t watch that, please! It’s so cringe…" he sighed and I chuckled.

"Cringe? That’s way above cringe! I can’t believe they made you do this…"

"Me neither but it’s like t-…" he stopped abruptly, smiling sheepishly.

"No it’s like this at home!" I slapped his side and he laughed.

"That’s why I stopped!"

"Good!" I kissed his cheek and snuggled into him "Now let me finish this episode."

"God no…" he groaned but I laughed.

"Just kidding… what do you want to watch?" I asked him and he leaned down, pecking my lips.

"Nothing on the TV…" he wiggled his eyebrows and I laughed.

"I like that…"

"Yeah? Me too…" he got up and pulled me with him down into the kitchen, where he pushed me slightly against the island, grabbing my thighs "Up, pretty girl."

"Not again on there… it was cold and so not comfy!" I grumbled but he just laughed.

"Oh cara mia, you’re a naughty girl? What do you think what I’m about to do?"

"I don’t know… I just thought-…" I began but he interrupted me, putting his finger on my lips.

"Shhh… just trust me…" he grinned and I swallowed hard.

I knew that smirk. All too well. He grabbed my thighs again and I jumped a little, sitting down on the island.

"I trust you, just not that little devil inside of you." I chuckled and he pulled something out of his pocket.

"Close your eyes for me." The grin only getting bigger "Come on."

I closed my eyes and as soon as they were closed I felt how Charles put something over my eyes. Covering them.

"A blindfold? Charles! I told you, not on here!" I pouted, but he pecked my lips, chuckling.

"Don't be so impatient!" he walked away and I heard him rummaging through the drawers "Alright..." he stood in front of me and I felt his hot breath ghosting over my lips "Be a good girl and open that pretty, little mouth of yours for me."

"What? I swear if you start now some kinky shit I'm go-..." I began but he pushed a cold spoon into my mouth, cutting me off. A rich flavour of vanilla engulfed my taste buds, and I swallowed the spoonful of ice cream down.

"And?" Charles asked and I licked my lips.

"Vanilla ice cream?" I said hesitantly.

"Was it good?" he sounded excited and I was confused "You look adorable when you're confused. But come on, did you like it?"

"It's vanilla ice cream? It tastes good. Rich." I said and he kissed my sticky lips.

"Here..." he put a glass against my lips and I drank a sip of water "Open up again!"

The next spoon was chocolate ice cream, silky, chocolatey with the right amount of sweetness and some chocolate chips for some extra crunch. As soon as I swallowed down Charles pecked my lips again.

"And?"

"Very silky. The right amount of sweetness and chocolaty..." I replied before I felt the glass against my lips and I took another sip.

"Open up..." he said as the next spoon was fed to me.

Peanut ice cream. Caramel sauce and something crunchy.

"That's good! I love the peanut flavour! And the caramel sauce and the crispy bits? I love it! But Charles..." I began when he pecked my lips yet again before the glass returned and the next spoon full of ice-cold goodness engulfed my taste buds.

"Salted caramel? And chocolate chips?" I licked my lips before Charles pressed his again against mine.

"Yeah, you like it?" he asked, and I nodded slightly, drinking some water "Alright, next one..."

I opened my mouth and the moment I had the first taste of the spoonful of ice creamed I moaned a little.

"Mhhh Pistachi-ohhhh my god that's good! More!" I said and he chuckled.

"Why did I know that... here." another spoonful of the creamy and delicious ice cream wandered into my mouth "Okay stop making these noises, or it is the kitchen island 2.0!" he lifted the blindfold, and I blinked a few times "Hey pretty girl."

He smiled at me, brushing my hair out of my face when I looked down on the countertop, where he put a white container down. Right next to 4 other similar looking containers.

"Why did you feed me ice cream blindfolded? And why did you feed me ice cream, blindfolded in the middle of the season? I want to eat that whole container of the pistachio and peanut one! Unfair!" I pouted a little and he laughed.

"Go ahead." He held up another spoon of the pistachio ice cream and I groaned "Come on, I know you want it!"

"Of course I want it! It's pistachi-ohhhh..." he shoved the spoon in my mouth, cutting me off "Damn that's good."

"It gets even better... that whole tub? Less then 400 calories." Charles said proudly and I cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah sure. That creamy and rich ice cream? Less then 400 calories the whole tub? You mean one spoon maybe." I sighed but he scooped up another spoonful.

"Nope. This is Lec ice cream. My own brand, I've been working the past few months on it and it's finally ready. I only need to find names and decide what designs and it's good to go. Each tub has less than 400 calories."

"Are you kidding me? When-... how-... what? When did you do that? And why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh stop pouting! I wanted to surprise you! I know how much you love a good ice cream but we have to resist this craving because of our job! So I wanted to create an ice cream we can enjoy without the guilt!" he cupped my cheeks and I smiled.

"This creamy, rich flavour for this little calories? Seriously? I mean… why resist?" I laughed, scooping up another dollop of the pistachio ice cream, indulging in the flavour.

Charles laughed and kissed me, nipping at my lower lip.

"Mhh... why resist? Sounds like a good slogan... now you just need to help me name them! Although I already have an idea for the pistachio ice cream."

"Yeah? What is it?" I looked at him excitedly.

"Pistachi-OH! the OH in capital letters with an exclamation mark! Because whenever I see a tub of that ice cream I will think of the look on your face, the little sound you made when you tasted it for the very first time."

"Swirly Pistachi-OH! Sounds even better!" I said and he nodded "And you should call the vanilla ice cream vanillalove or something, because its your favourite!" I grabbed the container and fed Charles a big scoop of the vanilla ice cream.

"Vanillove. Even shorter." he smiled.

"Sounds good. The peanut and caramel one? It was almost like the different flavours were dancing on my tongue... Peanut Caramel Tango!" I suggested and Charles nodded.

"Chocolate crunch. Nothing fancy. Just straight what it is?"

"Perfect. And now the salted caramel one." I said and tried the ice dream again.

"Salty carmel- carmamel-... why is this word so difficult?" he groaned and I laughed "Salty caram-mmel!"

"That's it! Salty carammmel with at least 3 m's!"

"Salty carammmel? So everyone knows that I can't speak English properly?" now Charles was the one pouting.

"It's cute! Vanillove. Peanut Caramel Tango. Chocolate Crunch. Salty Carammmel and Swirly Pistachi-OH! The 5 flavours of Lec ice cream. Less than 400 calories per tub. But still tasty as fuck." I concluded and he kissed me, his lips tasting like Vanillove.

"Because, why resist?"

„Nicholas said everything is prepared. We'll start the Instagram account nect Tuesday. And the lauch of the ice cream in Milan will be on the 11" Charles said as he opened the hotel door.

"Already? You guys are fast." I plopped down on the sofa, leaning back

"Not we, Nicolas, Guido and Federico are fast." he chuckled and handed me a cold water out of the fridge, right when my phone rang.

"Ewww that's Elijah... I kinda regret agreeing to Netflix." I groaned and silenced my phone "I know it was a good idea at first... but with everything that happened? He asked me if I would consider talking about the whole Diaz incident... after last year there were so many rumours and he asked me if I wanted to clear things up."

"Just let him film a little bit of our weekend and they'll be happy. I know its tough and you don't want it anymore, but jus think about all the interviews they had? Your whole team, Lewis, Seb, Fred, Toto, his wife, Max, some of the most well-known F1 journalists... it's so amazing what they all have to say about you! How they support you! And then seeing how hard you train? But also see where you come from. That it wasn't as easy as anyone said it was? It will be great! Let them film Hockenheim and then they have enough. They can release their show. It will be great. Everyone is happy. Focus on that, okay? And if you don't want to talk about Diaz? Then don't...

I've seen the rumours, and believe me, I want to say a few words myself, but it's not my place." Charles sat down and I leaned against him.

"I know, I know... right now there is already enough going on with the Sainz dilemma... people still talk about it and now he's after my seat as well... and then Susie asking me to be a little more present in the F1 Academy and I really want to, I told her last year that she can count on my support but here I am, not even doing a single thing for it..."

"Because you're a F1 driver! Lizzie, Susie understands that you would be more present if it would be possible, okay? Just stop for a moment to think about what everyone else wants from you and focus what you want, okay?" Charles squeezed my shoulder and l sighed

"Food. I want food. And a shower. Then a nice little walk at the beach, soaking in the sun and then focus on the weekend ahead."

"Let's take a shower, then head down to the beach and have a nice little treat." He kissed my nose and then got up, pulling me with him "Come on. Today is for us. Tomorrow we think about the rest. One step at the time."

"I should still call Elijah..." I grabbed my phone but Charles took it out of my hand.

"Today is for us. Tomorrow we'll figure out the rest. Can you, for once, listen to me?" he chuckled and I nodded "Good. Thank you. Now come on."

I walked out of the press conference back to the Audi hospitality when a little crowd close to the hospitality caught my attention.

"So it’s true, that you’re talking to the Audi board about a seat for Carlos for next season?" a reporter whose back was turned to me, asked and I stopped dead in my tracks

"I’m convinced that Carlos can bring the team to the next level. They lack a bit of consistency, Valtteri is doing a good job in providing feedback about the car, Carlos could bring some of his consistency and experience to the team. He’s fast. Faster than his teammate over a long course of the last season. I have a good relationship with the Audi board and of course they know how good Carlos is." Sainz Senior smiled into the cameras.

"In theory it sounds all good, but Audi still has two drivers. You’re talking about Valtteri and Carlos. So Lizzie Doetterer would lose her seat to Carlos?"

"Look, I’m not saying she’s not a good driver. But it’s her third season now and she didn’t convince me as the big talent everyone said she is… maybe she can find a seat in the F1 Academy. But I don’t see a future in F1 for her. She also lacks of discipline, I guess you all know what I’m referring to, she’s too emotional, too impulsive. That are not good characteristics for a F1 driver." he smirked, looking directly at me and the reporter followed his look spotting me. Will Buxton.

"Lizzie, do you want to join us?" he asked and I swallowed hard.

"No, thanks. I’m good Will. Seems like Señor Sainz has a lot to say." I grit out and walked away, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Lizzie, we have some-… what happened?" Julie looked at me and I felt how my mouth went dry. Words leaving me. "Lizzie?" she pushed me down into an armchair, handing me a glass of water and I gulped it down in one go.

"Sainz… he talks to the media…" I pressed out and she patted my arm.

"No one here wants Sainz in our team Lizzie! I hope you know that?" she tried to calm me down.

"What does it matter? If the board says he’s your new driver, you can’t change it…" I said, leaning back "I have to do the talking on track. I need to be better than him."

"And you will be. You show him what you’re made of! Kick his ass!" Julie fired me up and I nodded.

"I’m not backing down that easily. He wants my seat? Then he has to come and pry it out of my dead fingers grasp." I said determined and Julie chuckled.

"Dark, but I like the fighter mentality."

"He will regret ever talking bullshit about me."

"Hell yeah!"

Sainz wasn’t backing down that easily as well. He was ruining my laps at all times, he was always in front, being clever enough to not fully impede me, but at least disturb me that much that I had to abort my laps or had to go wide which costed time. It all peaked in qualifying when Sainz drove in front of me to warm his tyres on his out lap. Too slow for my liking especially considering that I had a real shot at starting on pole tomorrow.

"Charles, Norris, Max all on their flying lap. Max currently P1. Sainz P2. You P4." Pete radioed.

"Last chance now?"

"Last chance."

"Sainz is so fucking slow!"

"Copy."

"He’s in my way!" I was frustrated, seeing Sainz warming his tyres in front of me, not intending going faster at any given moment. Fuck it. I accelerated and pushed the throttle full through, overtaking him, right as I passed him, he accelerated as well leaving me behind him.

"Is he fucking serious?" I was seething, but I had no time to be too pissed, I had to give it one last shot.

"Abort your lap Lizzie."

"What? Why?"

"Your tyres are overheated. You probably wont even make it over the line… come back to the pits. That’s currently P4. Charles P5. Only Norris behind who could snatch away P4."

"Okay…"

I sat in the car. Taking a few deep breaths before I climbed out. Disappointed when I saw Norris lap time on the screen. P5 tomorrow. All because of Sainz.

"I’m sorry, Lizzie." Pete patted my back and I only shook my head.

"No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have overtaken him. I ruined my tyres…" I said quietly, putting my helmet away, taking the bottle from JK "He did his best to fuck up my laps and he succeeded."

"Calm down a bit and then go to the interviews." Felix said, as he came up to us and I nodded, walking in the back.

He got in my head. First his father. Now he himself. I threw my helmet on the table and sat down, head in my hands. Right when I had to be on top of my game, I caved in.

"Lizzie?" Julie asked carefully and I sat up, wiping my face "Do you want to wait for a little while or just go now?"

"Let’s get it over with."

"Li-... woah..." Charles let out when I pulled him into the corner and ducked down "What are we doing?" he whispered but I shushed him.

"Elijah... I need a moment for myself. I feel like the only time there isn't a camera in my face is when I have to go to the bathroom or at night... they even were there when I talked to Susie yesterday." | rolled my eyes.

"So you're hiding now how long exactly? Until the race?"

"No idiot. Until the anthem... we'll go and come back and then they have to back off anyways." | whispered and Charles chuckled.

"Okay, I'll hide with you." He kissed my cheek "You could've found a nicer hiding spot tho... just saying."

"You'll survive..."

We waited until it was time for the anthems and I successfully dodged Elijah and his camera crew and when it was time for me to get into the car he just sighed and retreated. I checked my radio and everything and waited for the go from Pete, preparing for the formation lap.

"Radio check."

"Loud and clear. Let's go, Lizzie."

When I stopped the car in my grid spot I focused on the lights. Taking a deep breath and accelerating as the last light got out. At the start I was overtaking Norris right in the first corner and pushed hard to create a little gap. He gave up chasing me, and I focused already on Perez in front. The next two laps I got closer and closer and finally managed to overtake him, right when the yellow flag was waved.

"Watch out. Max is having trouble. You'll pass him at the next turn." Pete radioed.

"Pass him?" I asked right when Max appeared in front of me not fighting me at all.

"We believe he will be retiring his car."

Lap 4 and Max was out. Only Sainz in front of me and Charles, who had overtaken Perez in the meantime.

"Gap Sainz?"

"4.3 seconds."

Damn. The Ferraris were fast. And Charles was coming closer and closer.

"Charles is really fast." I radioed when I had to let him overtake me, he had too much pace and the way he was chasing me wasn’t good for my tyres.

"He is. 0.5 faster." Pete replied and I sighed.

Ferrari build a fast car this season. Too fast for us for now.

"Sainz?" I asked, curious on his pace.

"0.1 slower."

So it would only be a short matter of time until Charles would knock on Sainz door. Ferrari would swap the cars to let Charles take over the lead, not just in the race, also in the drivers ranking. It was Sainz I would have to battle against for P2.

"Manage your tyres for now. Battling Sainz will cost you…"

"I know."

The gap to Charles got bigger and bigger for the next laps and I knew I had to be quicker to be in a good position. But then I got closer to Charles again and I checked my steering wheel.

"Am I pushing too hard or is Charles getting slower?"

"He was asked to hold position."

"What? Can you repeat that?"

I must’ve heard Pete wrong.

"Charles was asked to hold position. Manage his tyres. Not attacking."

"You’re kidding?"

"Lizzie…"

"No fucking way, why would they do that?" I couldn’t believe my ears. Why would they want Charles to hold positions? He was fast. Faster than Sainz?

"Focus on your race."

Race 3 and it already started again like last season.

"And that’s P3. Good race Lizzie." Pete said and I sighed.

"Thanks guys. Good job from everyone!" I said.

"Sainz P1. Charles P2. Norris P4. Oscar P5…."

"Ferrari doing Ferrari things…"

"Lizzie!" Pete said.

"What? He can’t win a race on his own. He needs his teammate to secure his position." the words were out before I could even react. Oh well. Here we go again.

"Off the radio. Now!" Pete reprimanded, but in his voice I could hear that he thought exactly the same.

"Just stating the truth."

"You’re exhausting." he chuckled.

"I love you too."

I parked my car and got out, hugging Charles. He only shook his head and then pushed me towards my team and I celebrated our second podium of the season, although I still didn’t understand why Ferrari didn’t let Charles overtake Sainz. After the interviews it was time for the obligated photo and I stood next to Charles, Sainz on his right.

"No you have to stand on the right." the FIA photographer said and I rolled my eyes.

"Just take the damn picture." I grumbled. Standing next to Sainz, a gap between us.

"Come on, be the better person." Charles said in French when we walked off towards the cool down room but I shook my head.

"I’ll start being the better person when your team starts making better calls." I replied loudly. In English. In front of said team while the camera was panned on me.

"Cara mia…" Charles sighed but I just shrugged my shoulders walking inside. I wiped my face. Almost emptying a bottle when Sainz walked in, followed by Charles. Again he only shook his head slightly and I sighed, sitting down. There was silence in the room. Only the race highlights that were played in the background could be heard. On the podium I only sprayed Charles a little before I left, not waiting for the picture. I felt Charles gaze on me but I didn’t care.

"Alright. Lizzie, you’re next. Your thoughts?" Clarkson looked at me and I picked up the microphone.

"Good race." was all I said and then I put the microphone down again.

"Maybe a little more detailed?"

"We had a good weekend. Our pit stops weren’t the best, unfortunately for Valtteri, but overall we were good."

"Okay. We open up the floor for some questions…"

"Mike Harris. CBS Sports. Question for Lizzie. You said on the radio that 'He can’t win a race on his own. He needs his teammate to secure his position'. Care to elaborate?"

"What’s there to elaborate? It’s pretty self-explanatory. I said what I said." I answered tight lipped, feeling the gaze of Charles and also Sainz on me.

"Mila Janic. motorsport.com. Carlos, after hearing what Lizzie has said, what do you think about her words?"

"Some people have their emotions clearly better in check than others and so some drivers let out their opinions on the radio and complain. She has her opinion, I have mine. I know which one is right." Sainz answered and I had to fake a cough to cover up my snorting.

"There’s a difference between an opinion and facts." I whispered under my breath.

"What did you say?" Sainz looked at me and I looked up "I didn’t understand it? But you said something."

"I just said that there’s a difference between an opinion and facts." I shrugged my shoulders, looking at him. He was mad, but I didn’t care. Not anymore.

"Alright, do we have another question?" Clarkson said quickly and I put the microphone down again.

"Herbert Stein, BLICK. Charles, what is your opinion on what Lizzie said? You’re the teammate she’s talking about? Do you think you deserved the win today?"

"I’m not commenting on what Lizzie said because I understand where she’s coming from. As for if I deserved the win, no, I didn’t. Carlos was overall better this weekend. I have to push to be better the next." Charles answered and I had to roll my eyes.

"You don’t agree with Charles?" the reporter asked me and Charles looked at me.

I contemplated whether to answer or not.

"No, I don’t agree."

"Why?"

"It doesn’t matter who’s better the whole weekend. The race is what matters. Points are earned in the race. So it doesn’t matter if you were the best the whole weekend, if you don’t deliver on Sunday, you won’t make points. Also the other way around. So no, I think when one driver is faster, has more pace and especially when he would be taking the lead in the championship, I’d say I let this driver give it a go and not tell him to hold position. If he’s not faster then, you can still swap back, but just telling the driver off, for no apparent reason? Yeah no." I answered and there was a murmur going around.

"Alright, thank you everyone. That’s it for today, see you all in Suzuka."

I jumped up and walked back, Julie already waiting for me. The way she looked at me, I knew she wasn’t happy with what I said.

"I told you I won’t lie. Never. When they ask something, I answer honestly." I said and she sighed shaking her head.

"Yeah yeah whatever, let’s go."

"Lizzie! Wait." I heard Charles behind me "Julie, can you give us a moment? Thanks." he grabbed my hand and pulled me with him.

"I’m not apologising and I’m not backing down or stop-…" I began but he silenced me with a kiss.

"I love you." he whispered against my lips and then pulled me with him, following Julie "Here she’s yours again. I’ll pick you up later on." he kissed my cheek, then winked at Julie and walked off.

"Almost two years together and you still blush like on day one." she chuckled and I looked away, my face getting only hotter.

"Let’s go." I just said and we walked back in silence.

Charles POV:

"Charles?" I heard Lizzie walking up the stairs.

"Marianne, I’ll call you later. Lizzie just came home. Au revoir." I hung up right als Lizzie walked around the corner "Hi pretty girl."

"As if…" she snorted, plopping down next to me, taking a deep breath "I swear, I don’t even feel my legs anymore. JK was torturing me today..."

"Oh, my poor girl, you want a massage?" I asked her and she mumbled something inaudible.

"I'm taking a shower first and then I want that massage." she kissed my cheek and then got up, sauntering off when the doorbell rang "It's Joris."

"Alright, you go showering I'll see what he's up to." I followed her downstairs and heard the bedroom door close, wandering off into the kitchen.

"Lizzie? Charles?" Joris called out and I opened the fridge.

"Kitchen." I shouted and a moment later he put a big box on the kitchen island "Is that..." I made big eyes, looking at the box.

"Yeah. They called that it's ready so I said I'll pick it up." Joris replied and I nodded slowly.

"I cant believe it... 10 years already.." I breathed out and he took the water that I handed him.

"You know, he would be so proud of you, would he be here? Seeing how far you've made it?"

"How far I've made it? Some race wins, a vice championship and a ton of mistakes... that's how far I've made it..." I huffed.

"Charles..." Joris began but I shook my head.

"I know, I know." I said and he sighed "Now come on. Show it to me..."

"Alright." he opened the box, pulling the helmet in its bag out and sat it down on the counter, then put the box on the floor and undid the string of the bag "Ready?"

I nodded and Joris pulled the helmet out. It was beautiful. The perfect tribute. I was at a loss of words for a moment and picked the helmet up, looked over the details.

"They did an amazing job. It's perfect." I whispered and he nodded.

"It really is..." he replied, and I sat the helmet down "Are you okay?"

"Yeah... it's just a little overwhelming.." I sat down on a stool, eyes still on the helmet "I want to win this race. For him."

"I'm sure you'll do you your best to honour him!" Joris patted my back "And now I have to leave you, you're little secret with Marianne needs some more preparations."

"Thanks Jo, really." I got up and hugged him "See you tomorrow."

I was so lost in my thoughts that I flinched when Lizzie caressed my cheek gently.

"Hey you." she whispered, sitting down next to me, taking my hand, interlacing our fingers "What's going on in there." she kissed my temple gently.

"It's 10 years this year..." I whispered, nodding to the helmet.

"Its beautiful. Jules would be so proud of you. The man you've become, the driver..." she said quietly and I pulled her into my lap, holding her close.

"I just wish that by now he could be proud of me because I had won a title..." I breathed into the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and conditioner.

"Charles... it wasn't that you weren't made to be a champion, it was more that you're team wasn't... but this year will be your year. I just know it. I know it didn't start the way you wanted it to. And I also know that with the way your team is handling you and Sainz at the moment it doesn't look like it's going to happen, but I have faith in you. I believe in you. In your abilities. This year is your year. I can feel it... and it will start in Japan. Where you will show everyone why Ferrari kept you. You will wear that helmet and you will honour Jules. You'll continue his legacy." she said softly but determined.

"I'll try my best."

"I know you will. You always do."

"God I love you…" I whispered and she giggled.

"I love you too. And now I want my massage!"

"Charles? We will film some C2 challenges today..." Sylvia said and I rolled my eyes.

"Is that really necessary?" l asked and she glared at me.

"I don't care whatever your problem is all of a sudden with Carlos, but here at Ferrari we are a unit. One family. And he is part of the family until the end of the year, so yes, it's necessary." her voice like venom.

"All of a sudden..." I chuckled bitterly and she cocked an eyebrow, right as Carlos walked in.

"Carlos, here, sit down. We have 3 challenges planned..." Sylvia began but I didn't listen.

I hardly participated and by the end of the second challenge she seemingly had enough

"Charles! Can you at least try to look like you're happy to be here?"

"I'm not a good actor..." I just shrugged and she sighed.

"This is for the sake of Ferrari! Can't you just swallow down whatever it is that gives you this attitude?"

"Nope. That's too much to swallow... Ferrari needs us to be good drivers. They need us to win races. Nothing more."

"Yeah? Then do your part!" she spat out and I looked at her "Win races."

She slammed her clipboard on the table, making everyone flinch, then stormed off and I sighed. Drama queen. The rest of the team looked at each other and then decided to leave and look for Sylvia, leaving only Carlos and me alone in the room.

"You could at least pretend like its all fun and games for the cameras..." Carlos said and looked at me.

"What?"

"It's our last year, we should end it on a high. Together. For the sake of Ferrari." He said and I laughed.

"Are you serious? After everything you pulled over the last season?" I asked and he rolled his eyes.

"Look. I don't care about who you're dating. But it shouldn't interfere with your job.

You're a Ferrari driver. Ferrari is important. Not Audi."

"Oh yeah? Audi is only important if they have a seat for you, no?"

"I don't care for next season. I care for this season. So, get your shit together. And do your job. Which is winning races... something you haven't done for a while... me on the other hand..." he got up and walked towards the door "2 wins in the last 11 races..."

"Singapore wasn't your win." my voice was trembling.

"See? That's what I mean. It was a Ferrari win... that should be your main priority. But no. it's because of your little girlfriend crashing out you're still sour an-..."

"And why was she crashing out?" I interrupted him, almost shouting.

"It was a racing accident, she could've backed down, but didn't so she crashed out... it wasn't even a bad crash, nothing happened..." he left and as soon as the door shut close, I slammed my fist on the table. Nothing happened. Nothing happened? I had to win this race. I had to wipe the grin out of his face. Winning was now more than essential. Not just for Jules. But also for Lizzie. I took a deep breath, calming myself down and then got up, searching for Mia, who didn't look too happy when I spotted her.

"I know, I know... I'll apologise to Sylvia later."

"Thank you. And now come. The media pen is waiting." she replied and I sighed.

"I can't wait."

"You're less grumpy when Lizzie is there as well." Mia chuckled and I pushed her a little

"It's cute so shut it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I rolled my eyes playfully and followed her to the first interview, watching the press conference on the screen behind the reporter. Lizzie was chatting with Logan and Oscar, Pierre next to her was joking around with Carlos. His words still in the back of my mind. He sat there. Joking with Pierre, they even took a selfie together. He was talking about the seat in Audi next season like it was already his. I saw how tense Lizzie was, the unsettled look on her face. And as soon as I was done with my interviews, I wanted to pick Lizzie up, reassure her, but I saw Logan and Oscar leaving, then Pierre and Carlos, still talking eagerly, but no Lizzie, she must've left immediately when they were done. I saw how Pierre looked my way and walked off, I had to find Lizzie.

"Charles! Charles? Mate!" Pierre almost shouted but I kept walking "Hey! Didn’t you hear me?" he put his hand on my shoulder, making me stop "Charles?"

"Where’s your new bestie?" I spat out and he made big eyes. I didn’t want to sound this agitated. But the smirk on Carlos look when he talked about the seat in Audi. Lizzie’s seat. What he said earlier. It was all too much.

"What do you mean?" he looked at me confused.

"Didn’t know you and Sainz were this close… laughing together, making jokes, hanging out together, taking selfies…" I said coldly.

"Are you serious? Mate, he’s just a buddy we’re racing with? Come one?" Pierre asked taken aback.

"No. He’s not. He’s not just a buddy we’re racing with! And you know it! He’s… he did things… no. He’s no buddy of mine. Not since…" I began but he rolled his eyes.

"Yes. Singapore was fucked up. He knows it. He even said that after reviewing the videos he knows he was a little too aggressive! It’s water under the bridge! That’s racing, Charles. You know it. Lizzie knows it and also she’s fine. She’s alive and well. You should draw a line and let it got…" Pierre sighed.

"Let it go? Let it go? You have no idea what he did… you no. You don’t know. You know nothing. Just let it-… no fuck this." I was getting beyond mad. The look on Lizzie’s face in the hospital bed in my mind. Her tears. Broken voice. How she sat on the sofa earlier. All tense. I balled my hands into fists.

"Charles? Come on mate. The season is still long, you shouldn’t hold a grudge over nothing."

Nothing? Again that word.

"Fuck you, Gasly." I spat out, walking away.

"Oh hell no, what the fuck is your problem?" he grabbed my arm, pulling me back.

"LIZZIE LOST OUR BABY THAT NIGHT!" I full on screamed. Shocked about the words myself.

Pierre dropped his hand off my arm and looked at me with wide eyes.

"Because of your racing buddies little too aggressive stunt Lizzie lost our baby. That’s what the fuck my problem is… so no. It’s not nothing. It’s not water under the bridge. Because of him I had to hold my girlfriend in my arms, trembling, crying, blaming herself for something that was entirely his fault."

"Charles…" Pierre began, voice almost a whisper.

"No. I don’t want to hear it. I thought we were your friends. Lizzie and I. Just… forget it." I walked away, leaving Pierre behind, not looking back once. Around the next corner I leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath and wiping away the stray tears that had escaped. Focus. I had to find Lizzie.

"He’s a slimy, stupid, hairy, idiot." she punched into the pads on JKs hands and I had to chuckle "He wants my seat? My seat? The fuck he gets my seat. I’m going to destroy him."

"That’s my girl." I said, and she flinched a little "I thought I had to look after you, because you might be down or something… oh how wrong I was."

"Down? Because of that hairy Neanderthal? Fuck no. I’m furious and I want to see him in my mirrors whenever I cross the finish line from now on."

I hugged her and felt immediately relieved. Calm.

"We’ll start this Sunday." I said and she nodded determined.

The practices all went by in a fast blur. But when I prepared for my final attempt of setting the fastest time in Q3 a sense of calm washed over me. I blocked everything else out. Just focused on the task at hand. My car. The track. I took a deep breath and send it. Nothing else in my mind besides the sheer will to start the race tomorrow from the best position possible.

The lap felt like an eternity but also just a short moment at the same time when I crossed the finish line.

"And that's P1. You've done it! Good job!" Xavi said and I began to cheer.

"YEEEEEEES! Come on now! Let's go!" I shouted in the radio. I did it. Pole position "Where's Lizzie?"

"P2 Verstappen. P3 Lizzie. P4 Sainz..." he replied and I cheered even louder.

"Awesome job, Lizzie!" I screamed and I didn't give a single fuck how people would react over the fact that I was cheering on Lizzie, rather than Carlos.

When I parked my car at the P1 spot and got out I waited for Lizzie, hugging her tight as soon as she was out of her car.

"What a lap, mate!" Max said next to us, patting my back and I let out a relieved laugh.

"I'm just glad it all came together and worked out in the end." I said and he hugged Lizzie.

After a short celebration with the team, I took a big swig out of my bottle when I was waved over for the interview wit Martin.

"Now that's a podium I would sign." Martin Brundle said and I nodded "That last lap of yours looked spectacular. We know you're one of the best qualifiers on the grid, almost always flawless. But that today? Wow!"

"Thank you! I honestly just had a tunnel vision the whole lap. My mind was trained on nothing else. I think I was never this focused."

"The Ferrari's do have a lot of pace this season? They are closer to the Red Bulls then they would like, it seems?"

"We have a lot of pace, that's true, but the Red Bulls are still ahead of us." I replied and he nodded.

"Do you think a win is possible?"

"I will try my best."

"Tell us Charles, how does it feel starting this race from pole position, 10 years after that fatal accident of Jules, who you honour with your helmet this weekend." Martin asked and I swallowed hard

"It means a lot. I honestly don't even have the right words for it. But it's special. Now I just have to win tomorrow to make him proud." I said, feeling Lizzie's look on me. I turned a little and she smiled reassuringly at me.

"I'm sure he would be proud anyway." Martin patted my back and I smiled, walking towards Lizzie who hugged me again.

"He's right, it doesn't matter if you win or not, Jules would be proud anyway, just like your dad..." she whispered in my ear and I kissed the side of her head

"Thanks for always reminding me."

I stood next to my car. Looked up in the sky, closing my eyes. Took one last deep breath. I could do it. I had to do it. I felt a warm hand on my arm and looked down. Lizzie.

"Show everyone who you are today, mon cœur. Show them that you are one of the best. If not the best. I believe in you. We all do." she hugged me close, kissing my cheek "I love you, my winner." before I could say anything she sauntered away and I felt my cheek prickling.

"Charles?" Andrea said and I turned a little, a big smile on his face he handed me my balaclava and the my helmet "You’ll win this today." he patted my arm and I nodded, climbing into my car.

After the radio check, the formation lap, I closed my eyes for a moment. It was now or never. Lights out. Full focus. Full throttle. Nothing else mattered anymore. Just me. My car. The track. It was a tough start. I had to battle hard with Max and unfortunately lost. But I stayed at his rear. Attacked all the time, waited for my chance and finally, I overtook him and pushed the throttle harder than ever before. Like in a tunnel I raced through the corners. Only focus point the top step of the podium.

"Last lap, Charles. Bring it home." Xavi radioed and I pushed with everything that I had. The last few metres felt like the longest ride, I could feel Max at my rear wing at all times. But I kept the throttle fully pushed through. My leg began to cramp. My hands trembling. And then I saw it. The checkered flag.

"You’ve done it! That’s P1!" Xavi in my ear but I ignored him for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"This one’s for you, Jules!" I said, feeling the tears soaking my balaclava.

It was like slow motion, the cool down lap, parking the car, taking a moment before I got out. On shaky legs I stood next to the car. Feeling the emotions overcoming me. I kneeled down. Patted the sticker for Jules on my car, taking a deep breath, when I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned a little to see Lizzie standing next to me, the light of one of the headlights illuminating her. Her eyes sparkling. Her most beautiful smile adorning her gorgeous face.

"You did it Charles. For Jules. He’s so proud of you." I heard her faint voice as she was pulling me up into her arms "You proved them all wrong. I’m so proud of you. So, so proud."

"I won…" I mumbled and heard her soft giggling.

"You did. You won." she pulled away, kissing my helmet and gently pushed me toward my team "Go. Celebrate. This is your moment."

I nodded slightly and when I walked to my team I saw Pierre, looking at me, tapping his feet as if he was contemplating what to do. Lizzie nudged his shoulder and he pulled her in a tight hug out of nowhere and she just shook her head, wiping what looked like a tear from his cheek before she pushed him towards me. I turned my back on him for a moment, celebrated with my team, all smiling and chanting. Then I turned back around and Pierre stood in front of me.

"I’m sorry. I had no idea… I swear would I know what happened… I would never-…" he began, his voice trembling. Lizzie behind him nodded at me and I sighed, pulling Pierre into a hug "I’m so, so sorry!"

"It’s okay… you didn’t know and it wasn’t okay from me to react like this…" I said, hearing his sigh of relief.

"No you had all rights! I can’t believe what happened…"

"We’re good. Lizzie is good. But I’ll never forget what he did…" I said and Pierre nodded.

"No. No you shouldn’t…" we went silent for a moment, but then he patted my back "You won. Suzuka. Jules would be so freaking proud of you."

"Yeah… I hope so."

"Go. Celebrate. You deserve it." he pushed me towards Lizzie again and then walked off.

The next moments felt amazing. During the interviews, the podium, Lizzie was smiling at me the whole time. I felt almost invincible when I lifted the trophy up into the sky. On top of the world. And when we walked down the stairs from the podium, trophy in hand, it all overwhelmed me.

"Hey? Come with me…" Lizzie whispered pulling me away from it all "Take a deep breath for me."

I slowly did, closing my eyes for a moment. Feeling my eyes tear up.

"It’s okay. Let it all out."

"I won." I whispered and she smiled, nodding.

"You won." she replied pulling me into her arms "You did it. You drove brilliantly today. You won against Max…"

"I can’t believe it, I swear…"

"I can. I never had any doubt. This year is your year. My world champion to be." she kissed my cheek and pulled away slowly "I know that this year, you’re going to win the title."

"I hope you’re right."

"I am. I believe in it."

The euphoria of the win in Japan carried me over the next days. It was hectic, simulator work in Maranello, marketing shoots for LEC and then finally the launch party for LEC, where everyone from friends to family showed up to support me.

"And as much as I’m a huge vanilla ice cream lover, the Swirly Pistachi-OH! grew on me, as it’s Lizzie’s favourite." I answered one of the many questions, smiling at Lizzie, who talked with Nicholas.

"How did you come up with the names?"

"Lizzie and I named them. It was a very fun process. She also chose the designs with me. I had this whole idea because of her in the first place. When we were in Maranello last season, we were on a run with our coaches and then we saw some kids eating huge ice cream bowls and Lizzie, and me as well, were a little jealous that they could eat ice cream at any time and as much as they want while we… well we can’t. And born was the idea of LEC."

"Thank you Charles. Enjoy the rest of the night."

And we sure did. After the launch we threw a little after party, which was also a surprise birthday party for Joris who was smiling like crazy.

"To Joris, best friend, assistant and personal photographer you could wish for!" I raised my glass and everyone else did the same.

"To Joris!" Lizzie hugged him, kissing his cheek "Thank you for always dealing with not just Charles craziness but also mine."

"Oh stop." Joris blushed a little but Lizzie shook her head.

"No. Without you we would’ve been a lot of times in real trouble." she chuckled and I nodded, agreeing.

"Yeah, on so many occasions you were our voice of reason." I added and he laughed.

"Then let me be your voice of reason today as well… we should call it a day… or rather a night. Your flight is tomorrow quite early." Joris said and Lizzie laughed.

"See!"

We left shortly after, because Joris was right, our flight to China was quiet early on Sunday morning and since it was quite a long time since we raced in Shanghai, we should be fit and well rested. So when it was time to board the plane we felt fresh and ready for our journey ahead.

"What are you thinking?" I asked Lizzie a few hours into our flight, when she looked up from her notebook.

"I never raced in China… I’m a little nervous to be honest." she whispered and I pulled her to my side.

"Let’s do the track walk together and I tell you everything I can remember about the track, how does that sound?" I suggested and she smiled at me.

"Sounds good…" she still sounded worried and I kissed her temple.

"Don’t worry, okay? It will be fine. You’ll manage to adapt, like always." I reassured her and she nodded slowly, looking out of the window.

I knew how nervous she was, how the articles about her future or rather Carlos future at Audi were nagging at her, although she tried to hide it. Didn’t want to show how it all was affecting her. But I could see it. The next days she was tense, the questions about her future were taking their toll on her and it showed in her performance on Friday.

"P14… 14!" Lizzie was pacing back and forth, shoulders tense, head hung low "How am I supposed to make it into the points from there?"

"It’s just the sprint. You’ll be better in the quali tomorrow." I calmed her down but she shook her head.

"Charles, I can’t make any mistakes! I can’t be this bad. The Audi board will monitor every little mistake that I make. I have to make as many points as possible."

I got up from the bed and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close.

"You didn’t make a mistake! Lance was impeding you. There was nothing you could do!" I put my forehead on her’s and she took a deep breath.

"Yeah but I still need the points…" she sighed and I nodded, making her head move with mine.

"You will make up some positions, okay? And on the real race on Sunday you’ll show what you’ve got, okay?" I kissed her forehead and she nodded slowly.

"Okay…"

"Good. And now, let’s eat and then go to bed."

"Okay…" she said again and I still saw the doubt in her eyes. How unsure she was.

And by the end of Saturday, nothing really changed.

"I don’t know how you kept your cool against Sainz today." she said, cracking her knuckles looking exhausted.

"I mean, what could I have done, you know?" I said and she nodded slightly.

"I want to go home. I swear I hate this track…" she leaned back, closing her eyes.

"It’s okay. You’ll do fine in the race tomorrow! P8 isn’t that bad! You can still make it into the top 5!" I threw my arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my side "Heads up, okay?"

"I don’t know. I feel like our car is just not working around here…" Lizzie groaned and I kissed the side of her head.

"Tomorrow will be a better day. You’ll see. You’ll do good. I’ll do good. It will be fine."

"I hope you’re right."

I got out of my car, shaking my head in disappointment but also a churning in my stomach. A weekend to forget. For me and Lizzie. I congratulated Max, Lando and Checo and went quickly to my weighing. I took my receipt and made my way to the Audi garage.

"She’s not here." Felix said when he saw me approaching and I looked at him "She’s in her room and she’s…"

"How is she?" I asked.

"She’s okay. All clear. Apart from that? Mad? Frustrated? Sad? Furious?"

"Okay… I just saw the replay on the screens… didn’t look too good."

"It looked worse than it was. She said it herself." he replied and I nodded.

"I’m sorry, Felix. Lizzie looked strong out there."

"What do you guys like to say? It’s like this?" he shrugged his shoulders and I chuckled a little.

"Yeah. When you see her, tell her I’ll pick her up after my debrief."

"Sure."

I waved my goodbyes and went to our garage. Trying to be as calm as possible. Another race weekend, another Carlos shit show. Fred patted my back nodding towards Mia and I smiled at her, thanking my mechanics on my way to her. The interviews were done faster as usual. I wasn’t saying anything about Carlos, trying to stay as neutral as possible. I came back to the hospitality and changed out of my racing suit, getting ready for our team debrief. Grabbing my bag and made it back to the garage, waiting for the debrief to start. I sat alone for a while, then Andrea joined me, handing me my water bottle, right as Fred came in with Jock and Enrico.

"You’re here early." Jock said and I nodded.

"I want to leave as fast as I can…"

"Is she okay?"

"I haven’t seen her. But Felix said yes."

"I don’t understand what Norris did there…" Enrico said and I nodded.

"Me neither but what can I say, he’s not the only one who made questionable decisions today, no?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"Charles…" Fred warned but I only held my hands up in defeat.

I leaned back and watched the interviews of the day playing on the tv in the corner, right when Carlos interview started to play. With every second I watched my mood got worse. He was blaming me for his bad result. I was in his way? What the actual fuck.

"Is he for real? It was my fault? My fault?" I looked at Fred.

"We‘ll debrief it…" he began.

"He pushed me off in the sprint yesterday and then what the fuck was he doing at the start today? And now he’s blaming me for it?" I was fuming and Fred tried to calm me down.

"Charles, please.." he began but I sighed when I saw Carlos entering the room "Calm down, okay?"

I scoffed and looked at Fred, waiting for the room to fill up.

"Alright, some positive things, some negative things. First off, we managed to take home as many points as possible this weekend.." Fred began but I didn't even listen, waiting for the moment I could finally leave and check on Lizzie.

"Charles?" Fred looked at me and I blinked.

"What?"

"I said I wanted your opinion on the race start."

"I already gave my opinion on the radio..." was the only thing I said.

"And I gave mine. The racing line you were going in turn 1, turn 2 was weird and…" Carlos began.

"I was in my racing line as I was ahead of you, if you squabble into my racing line, don't blame me. Russell and Hulkenberg only went by because you were in my line, and I had to go wide. Again." I interrupted him.

"Whatever." Carlos rolled his eyes and I scoffed.

"Exactly... whatever when it’s something you did. Let's discuss and put the blame on me every other time. Yeah, yeah I get it." I said and the room fell silent.

"Alright. Umm- let's move forward, Miami. As you might know, we have a special livery and racing suit for Miami..." Fred began but I wasn't listening again.

I wanted to leave. Now. I wanted to go to Lizzie.

"Charles?" Andrea nudged my shoulder and I looked up

"We're ready, we can leave."

"Alright..." I got up and followed him outside, taking my phone out "I'm going to Lizzie..." Andrea patted my back and I left, walking to the Audi hospitality. I watched her get up from the armchair, flinching a little when she walked towards me.

"Hey you..." she said gently, kissing my cheek.

"Hey, are you okay?" I replied, cupping her cheeks ans looking her once over.

"It looked worse than it was… I’m fine."

"I’m sorry that he ruined your race…"

"Yeah, what can I say… it’s like this. We can’t change it now." she sighed and I took her hand, walking outside and thankfully almost no fans were waiting for us.

I had enough of this day, Lizzie looked exhausted and tired and I just wanted to go back to the hotel, make her eat something, go to bed and then go back home.

"You're awfully quiet..." Lizzie said after a while and I sighed "Oh, that bad? What happened?"

"The same shit as always..." I said, stopping at a red light.

"Okay?"

"Carlos does what he wants, blames me, I say my word, no one cares…" I shrugged and Lizzie sighed.

"I had high hopes that it would change, once Fred takes over..." she mumbled and I chuckled bitterly "They signed you. Not him. You're their future, they should listen to you..."

"Yeah maybe, but apparently it’s not like that." I mumbled and she caressed my cheek, turning to look at me.

"Maybe you need to talk to Fred?" she suggested and I nodded.

"Yeah. Maybe. But for now I just want to go home." I smiled a little, thinking about our upcoming anniversary and the little surprise I had planned for Lizzie.

"Me too. Netflix will bother us for a hot minute tho..." she sighed and I grabbed her thigh, squeezing it, I already took care of that as well "I had a talk with Elijah and we will film a little something…"

"It will be fine, don't worry."

"If you say so." she chuckled.

Oh I knew so. I just didn't say anything. Not raising any suspicions. But it was all well thought through. And the moment we arrived back at home, I started to make the final preparations for the big surprise.

"And Lizzie has no idea?" Elijah asked, while the film crew captured everything I was doing.

"Nope. Not a single clue. For once I was able to keep a secret to myself." I laughed as we walked through the garden gate, Marianne already awaiting.

"Salut Charles! Come on in!" she greeted me, and I felt the giddiness overcoming me. Sure, it was a surprise for Lizzie, and I knew how excited she would be, but it was also for me. Something I've always dreamed of myself.

"Ready to bring him home?" Marianne asked when we stepped in the back, three little puppies playing in the play pen, one of them jumped excited up the fence as soon as he spotted me "Seems like he is ready."

"Hey Arlo." I bent down, picking him up and he began licking my face immediately "Ready, little one?" I turned to Elijah and the film crew "Meet Arlo Doetterer-Leclerc, our newest family member."

"Oh my god, he's adorable." Sarah, the sound lady said and I stepped closer to her, so she could pet Arlo.

"You have everything you need?" Marianne asked me and I nodded.

"I bought everything from the list you gave me, I set up his crate and bed. Now it's only him who's missing." I said and she chuckled.

"I guess you are really ready to go then!" she said and I smiled.

"Let's say goodbye to your siblings and mum..." I sat him back down in the play pen, watching how he tolled around with his brother and sister. Marianne then brought out Arlo's mum and I picked him up and sat him down in front of her "Don't' worry, little one, we will come and visit your mum from time to time."

"You can always come by, maybe we can set up some playdates when his siblings are coming over." Marianne bent down, scratching Arlos's head.

"Definitely..." I agreed and Marianne picked him up and handing him over.

"We stay in touch then!" she smiled and I nodded.

"We will. Bye Marianne." I said and Eijah and the rest of the crew waved goodbye.

"Let's go, we have to hurry a little if we want to be at home before Lizzie gets back." I opened the passenger door and sat Arlo down, putting his harness on and then sat him into the transport box, clipping the harness into the security hook

"Alright. Tomorrow then?"

"Yes, just text us when you're ready and we're coming over." Elijah said and I nodded "See you tomorrow."

"See you guys tomorrow then." I got in the car and drove back to Monaco, Arlo next to me barking "We almost made it Arlo. Soon you'll see your new home, you'll gonna love it." I parked the car, glad to see that Lizzie's car wasn't here, and got Arlo out of the transport box when Lizzie called.

"Hey cara mia." I said, hoping Arlo would be quiet.

"Chicken and salmon for tomorrow and Friday?" she asked and I chuckled.

"Yep sounds good, for tonight I reserved a table at Antonios." I lied. I ordered food because I knew Lizzie wouldn’t want to leave once she saw Arlo.

"Sounds good. I'm almost home, you need anything else?"

"Nope just you.." I stepped out of the elevator, unlocking the door.

"Alright, half an hour and you have me." she laughed.

"Perfect. Love you. Bye." I hung up right in time for Arlo to let out a bark for ignoring him too long "Sorry buddy. Your mum is almost home come on now, I have to get you ready!"

I walked upstairs with him and sat him down, getting the bow I had prepared. I sat down and Arlo immediately jumped between my legs, happily barking and huffing. Tying the bow around him was harder than expected and I soon realised it might not go that easy.

"Oh come on, little one! Hold still! No! No! Stop! Arlo!" how could a small fur ball like him exhaust me after not even 30 minutes! I tried again tying the bow around him, but he just jumped out of my lap, following the reflection of my watch, barking his adorable little barks "Okay, come on now! Good boy! Good boy! Yes, come here." I cooed and he looked at me tilting his head a little, looking adorable "Please, you little nugget! Your mum will be here any minute! Pleeeeaseee!" He jumped back in my lap, starting to lick my face "No! Stop! Stay! Arlo, stay! Good boy! Now just let me… no stay! Arrrghh! Arlo!" I gave up. It wasn’t working. I plopped down and Arlo jumped on my chest "Yeah, we definitely need to go to the puppy school with you, you little rascal!" he laid down on my chest, looking at me with his big puppy eyes "You’re the cutest, little, good boy! Your mum is going to freak out! She’s crazy for dogs! You’ll be spoiled and cuddled and kissed and loved all the time!" he barked a little and then attacked my face with more licks and dog kisses. A notification on my phone let me know that Lizzie just entered our home and I scooped the little rascal up, going out on the terrace, waiting for Lizzie to come up.

"Shhh… just a few more minutes little one! Come on! Don’t bark!" I pleaded and Arlo stumbled over his own feet and let out a little bark "Shhh!"

"Charles? I'm home?" I heard Lizzie coming up the stairs "Are you even here?"

I opened the screen door fully and sat Arlo down.

"Go..." I whispered to him right when Lizzie rounded the corner and as if he understood his assignment he trotted towards her, tilting his head adorably, stopping in front of her.

"Cha-…" she began but then stopped abruptly, staring at Arlo "Wha-... who-... Charles? There is a puppy... a beautiful, gorgeous, cute and adorable puppy... in our flat..." she whispered, and I stepped behind Arlo.

"Lizzie, meet Arlo Doetterer-Leclerc, our new fur baby." I smiled and Lizzie had tears in her eyes, falling down on her knees and scooping up Arlo who happily jumped into her arms, licking her face "Happy second anniversary, cara mia."

"He's really ours? Our fur baby?" Lizzie looked at me and I nodded "Our baby boy?"

"Our baby boy." I chuckled and Lizzie got up, Arlo pressed to her chest, storming right into my arms "I mean initially your's as a gif-..." I began but she pressed her lips on mine, and I was melting into her touch.

"I love you, Charles. So much. This... he's the best gift I could ever receive. Our little fur baby." she whispered against my lips, sniffeling "He's so perfect!" she cooed, kissing Arlos head over and over again "My two perfect boys."

I chuckled and pulled her towards the sofa, sitting down with Lizzie snuggled into my side, Arlo in her arms, littering him with kisses. His big eyes on her. I was right, he immediately fell in love with her, like everyone who meets her does.

Chapter 43 - Welcome to the family, Arlo Doetterer-Leclerc, when I started this story last July I wrote so many little blurbs and created Insta posts and was so excited for when I finally could use them! That Charles now has a puppy in real life is just another one of these funny coincidences 🙈 that THE Lewis Hamilton comments and says he’s happy for Roscoe to have a friend in the hospitality (I actually meant paddock but hey) is also and added bonus 🙈👀 and ALSO CONGRATS CHARLES ON P3 TODAY!

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeh22 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram (or self made).

[deathonthe]

mona lisa's smile | 1418

pairing: fernando/lance

rating: teen and up

word count: ~7000

tags: pre-relationship, 2021 season, non-driver lance au

summary:

Two-time world champion. Robbed from his third. A villain’s making—a slow descent from glory, trajectory fixed on an unfulfilling end. Back from his sabbatical. Fernando Alonso.

director's cut:

don't let my ramblings influence ur interpretation of the fic!

these are my notes/reflection on the fic. they don't have to be urs. different minds can come to different conclusions that are equally fantastic!

mona lisa's smile is supposed to disappear when u view her directly, but out of ur peripheral, she is always smiling mysteriously (eerily). i thought it was fitting given the characterisation of lance and the facade he kinda keeps up in the fic

my obvious issue is that since it is an incomplete fic, the focus on lance and esteban's friendship overshadowed his developing one with fernando

i thought the risotto scene was corny, i'm glad people liked it

yes, it's written so that u can't really tell if someone's talking about something or somehow implying it or thinking it

i'm impartial to when people portray lance as having daddy issues and lawrence being a bad father. obviously i don't know jackshit about lance's relationship with his dad, but i wanted to depict it in a positive light this time around

whether or not scotty was going behind chloe's back with daniel is up to u. i couldn't decide whether he would or wouldn't so i left it vague

i don't know shit about ice hockey. i had to google who the canadiens were. they're not mentioned more because i couldn't be stuffed doing more research

i back read way too many articles about lawrence buying racing point, because i thought the dts portrayal was a bit inaccurate

lance and esteban do speak french when they're together so i'm glad i at least got that part of their characterisation correct

i actually started taking duolingo lessons for french because of this fic

the style is choppy on purpose because i hate grammar and tense

the line of 'offers security physically in the only way he knows how' is not implying that lance fucks este. i think lance often grabbing parts of himself to kinda subconsciously reassure himself, i tried to transfer that vibe into his friendship with esteban

to be clear, fernando does not give a shit about lance really until he meets him again when lance is like 20/21

the part that goes 'lance had watched from the grandstands that day. the crowd roared. he hadn't thought much of it' was actually regarding fernando's abu dhabi retirement donuts, and not him winning in spain in 2013

if misappropriating classical writing in my trashy fics was a crime, i would be on death row

at this point, it is not clear whether fernando is approaching lance as part of his El Plan or if he's genuinely interested in him

re: esteban and pierre possibly both being in renault. hindsight is a beautiful thing

fernando's "we are like lions. podiums soon" is another reference to the iliad. i wasn't sure if the implication was strong enough

i was originally going to scrap the 'must've misheard italian for indian' line because i wasn't sure if it would offend people

in the risotto scene, sebastian is actually oblivious as to what's happening. he's not pretending to be. he is fully unaware

my most despised line in this fic is: a son of a billionaire he may be, but a waster of food he is not. i think it's too cheesy and doesn't fit with the style of the fic. looking back now, i'm not sure why i kept it

i think the 'lance's lack of passion' character choice stems a lot from how f1 fans think lance is somehow detached from the sport and doesn't really care for it as much as, let's say, fernando or max, who are always very clearly enthusiastic about racing. it's probably also got something to do with lance's 'monotonous voice' that people like to complain about. it's ok, though, because lance is plenty expressive in his face and body language

fernando's post-race interview after his bahrain dnf is an amalgamation of some of the actual post-race interviews he's given

my favourite line in this fic is: Un jour, vous en ferez l'expérience. Cela fait battre votre cœur pour la première fois et votre cœur ne cessera de battre après. too bad it had to be in french

the ass-tap was inspired by the video of fernando congratulating lance after lance got p3 in the wet qualifying for brazil 2023 (i believe, need to double check on that)

the aston engineer is 100% suspicious about lance and fernando

thanks for putting urself through all of that!

[destinyleclerc]

Right Sport, Wrong Time

[Lando Norris x Reader]

Y/N stood there watching her new boyfriend Lando Norris race around Silverstone. The papaya-orange McLaren vehicle disappeared in an instant. The others soon followed. The vehicles passed so quickly that a strong burst of wind blew in her way, sending shivers down her spine. Y/N felt a sense of exhilaration whenever she watched Formula One races. And it occasionally made her wish she was the one driving the car. She didn't realise it at the time, but a wave of jealousy swept over her.

Y/N envied her own boyfriend.

She became interested in Formula One when she was 14 years old. That is, she had basically spent her whole childhood living under a rock. She did, however, develop a deep interest for the sport and looked up to many of the drivers. She decided she wanted to be a driver quickly after discovering her passion for it.

The dream didn't survive long before it was shattered. Because she later realised that most drivers began racing at a very young age. Some are as young as three. And it was relatively expensive. She realised she didn't stand a chance and moved on to other aspirations.

She concluded that it was the right sport. Wrong time.

However, the envy lasted barely a second before the race ended. Lando finished third overall. To distract herself from the dreadful envy in her gut, she cheered for her partner like many other admirers.

From afar, Y/N applauded him as he celebrated with champagne on the podium. As they maintained eye contact, she blew him a kiss. He blew her a kiss and grinned uncontrollably. How could I possibly be envious of him? She sighed, feeling guilty.

Y/n made her way over to the driver's room where Lando relaxed after the podium celebration and the entire event concluded. When she opened the door, her gaze was drawn to him dozing on the couch. He awoke as she locked the door on her way in.

"There you are." He said with a tired smile.

He stood up and drew her into a close hug; she returned the hold, but with conflicted feelings. On one hand, she was overjoyed for him and proud of his accomplishment. On the other hand, she couldn't get rid of the feelings of jealousy and sorrow that she hadn't pursued her dream of becoming a driver.

But as Lando drew back and stared at her, she realised she couldn't let her envy overpower her affection and admiration for him. So she congratulated him with a sincere smile.

"Congratulations, Lando. You were amazing out there."

He beamed at Y/N and kissed her on the forehead. "Thanks, love. It means a lot coming from you."

After a few minutes of conversation, Lando gathered his belongings. "You coming to celebrate with me and the guys?" He asked.

"You go ahead. I might go back to our hotel room and get some sleep. I'm still really jet lagged."

"Oh, right! I forgot that you're not used to the whole travelling thing. Well, in that case, I'll come with you." Lando replied.

"And miss out on celebrating? I don't think so." She exclaimed.

Lando shrugged, "I'd rather celebrate with you while relaxing in bed any day."

"Landoooo," Y/N whined.

"Y/nnnn!" He said, clearly trying to mimic her.

"You know what? Fine. But if you regret your decision later don't blame me." She said with a huff of fake annoyance.

"Yes, ma'am."

They exited the driver's room hand in hand. Making their way towards the hotel.  Y/N still felt a pang of guilt, but she was grateful to be with the person she cares about.

Y/N sat on the couch alone, waiting for Lando to finish his shower. There was a movie on TV, but she wasn't paying attention to it. Instead, she kept herself busy by picking at her fingernails.

Suddenly, Y/N felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. She looked up and saw the top of Lando's curly brown hair. He said nothing and continued to gently knead her tense muscles with his fingers. He applied the perfect amount of pressure to ease the knots that had formed. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, savouring the warmth and care he offered.

However, Lando noticed her still distracted expression. He sat on the couch next to her, "is everything ok?" He asked silently.

Y/N hesitated before responding. She didn't want to dampen the mood, but she also didn't want to keep her feelings bottled up. "I don't know, Lando. I just feel a bit...jealous, I guess."

"Jealous? Of what?" Lando further questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Of you, and your passion for racing. I know it sounds silly, but sometimes I wish I could be out there on the track too," Y/N explained, feeling vulnerable.

"It's not silly at all, Y/N. I understand that feeling. And it's okay to feel jealous sometimes. But you have to remember that you have your own passions and dreams too. And just because you may not have been able to pursue racing doesn't mean you can't find something else that brings you joy and fulfilment."

Y/N looked at him, feeling grateful for his understanding and support. "Thank you, Lando. You always know just what to say."

Lando smiled and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Of course, love. And also, if you do want to do racing. It doesn't have to be Formula One. You can do karting race events."

She nodded her head happily. "Yeah, ok!"

After a few minutes of them watching the movie in silence. Lando piped up again. "You know what?"

She turned to him and carried a confused look. "Yeah?"

"Let's go karting on the weekend. Just me and you. I'll give you a lesson."

I always put these imagines on my wattpad first, so if you want to get them quicker i suggest looking on that. My wattpad : @pissticks

[inthehytes]

sashnetra and 43 pls!! (bonus: they kiss >:3)

This was such a fun way to get back into writing, I really hope you like it!!! <3

(Also my inbox is always open if anyone wants to request anything!!)

43. “You’re really beautiful.”

Anetra took a steadying breath as she reviewed the list in front of her. Only one name remained without a small check mark next to it, Sasha Colby.

She didn’t hate Sasha, far from it in fact. She’s been harboring a crush on the senior since last year when she and Sasha had been paired together on a group project. Sasha was everything Anetra liked in a person, caring and compassionate, quick and witty. If it hadn’t been for Sasha, Anetra was sure she would have failed the project and probably the class.

A quiet knock on the workroom’s door sent a flurry of nerves through her stomach while she watched Sasha enter, dropping her bag on the nearest table. Anetra cursed Luxx and Selena’s timing, wishing one of them was in the room to make the air less awkward. Luxx had gone out an hour ago in search of more thread at the craft store and Selena a half hour later to find her.

“Hey, Sasha. Good to see you again.” Anetra smiled, playing with the metal ends of the tape measure that hung around her shoulders. She tried not to stare but couldn’t help letting her eyes linger even if it was for a moment too long.

“Hey baby, did they leave you all alone in here?” Her smile was bright as she walked close enough for Anetra to smell the sweet perfume she was wearing.

“Something like that, Selena thinks Luxx got distracted by the bodega guy on the corner again instead of going out for what she was supposed to get.” Anetra chuckles at the memory of the last time Selena had to go out to find Luxx when a trip ran too long. “Do you want to get started? It won’t take long I promise. I’m sure you’ve got something better to do with your Friday night.”

“Better than hanging out with you and a bunch of creepy mannequins? Never.” The grin on her face turned more playful, her gaze lingering on the flush that creeped up Anetra’s neck and ears. “Jacket on or off?”

“Off please, it’ll be more accurate this way.” Sasha accepted Anetra’s reasoning and stripped off her fluffy coat. Anetra directed her to the homemade platform they had crafted out of spare wood from last year’s spring show and got to work.

Sasha was quiet as Anetra worked, getting her general measurements before moving on to the more specific ones that Sasha’s costume would require. By the time she got to Sasha’s chest she was almost able to forget the fact that it was Sasha. Until her tape kept slipping around Sasha’s bust and Anetra began to get flustered.

“Are you alright? You’ve been staring for a minute now.” Sasha’s voice was laced with concern and Anetra saw her hand twitch where it lay by her side like she wanted to lay it on Anetra’s shoulder. The younger girl jumped, pulling away from Sasha and letting the tape fall to the ground with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry Sasha! The tape kept slipping and I couldn’t get the number right and you’re really pretty and smell nice. It's kind of distracting and I-“ Anetra cuts herself off, eyes widening further (a feat Sasha wasn’t sure was even possible).

“Easy honey, I was just teasing.” Her hand really does move now, reaching to rub Anetra’s arm soothingly. Her hands are just as soft and warm as she thought they would be and it takes everything in Anetra’s body not to lean into the touch. “For what it's worth I think you’re really pretty too. Hell, I’ve been trying to get your attention for the better half of the semester.”

“You, you have?” Anetra feels dumbstruck as she gazes up at Sasha, searching for a lie in her eyes but finding nothing but fondness and warmth.

“Mhmm, I was planning on asking you to dinner when we were finished here, but you seemed to have beaten me to the punch on confessing.” She steps down from the podium, right into Anetra’s space. They’re almost the same height now, Sasha only having a few inches on her. “Anetra?”

She’s too lost in the way her name sounds on Sasha’s lips to formulate a coherent response, stuttering out a quiet hum. Sasha’s free hand reaches up to cup Anetra’s face, manicured thumb stroking a soft path against her cheek.

“I’d like to kiss you now if that’s alright with you?” They’re almost nose to nose now as Sasha leans in. Anetra can faintly smell mint on her breath like she’d been chewing gum before she came. She can hear her pulse in her ears and has to take a steadying breath before she can answer with the press of her lips against Sasha’s own.

They would both be long gone by the time Selena and Luxx returned. The sheet with Sasha’s half finished measurements lay on the ground next to Anetra’s abandoned tape measure.

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

REEVALUATE?!?!??!?!?! || Kenshin || 5.2 || RE: END, Jae-min, Adrik

As the discussion keeps going on, Kenshin steps back up to the plate, listening along for a few more moments. Quietly, his eyes go back to Jae-min, before flashing a small smile, nodding.

“I have to agree it was a third party. There’s been evidence around here that there’s a third person involved with all of this, so seeing Erisu attacking An-” His voice breaks for a moment. “Ah, yeah that could be it. The third person could have been camping out on the red floor, watching the surveillance. Then, seeing An get attacked by Erisu, they could have known immediately to spring into action. Grabbing the curtain, they could easily come to An’s rescue… and kill Erisu. Hell, there is enough of a mess in the lobby to warrant a decently long fight to give the third party enough time to snag the curtain.”

His gaze does go to END as she suggests neither him or Kori could have done this. Thanks. There, he looks back at the rest of the group.

“Alright, so bringing up the information around the new, red floor. There was quite a bit of information on the siblings, regarding all their tests they went through, however… the notes are another crucial thing. The sisters wanted information to get out to get people talking, in order to frame the HPGB. It’s clear they have spite against it, although they both are ultimates, so perhaps this whole experiment was to show some side of the HPGB… or make it seem that way.”

“Along with this, the testing also went with the whole VR experience, trying to find a perfect vessel for AI. This is what Kaguya was involved with, as she kept notes on the process on her laptop. She knew about this process, but not the killing aspects. Plus, Calluna had been researching brain scans to figure out compatibility with the brains, determining a certain number of them in order to be sufficient. Which…. With the note of there possibly being a second set of data if the first doesn’t work out.”

Kenshin shudders. “So yeah, quite a bit going into this, if anyone has any more thoughts or connecting facts into the matter. Especially if it connects to the final sibling.”

However, at Adrik’s suggestion as to who AZ-8 could be, Kenshin could feel himself freeze up. Of course that would be a possibility, and yet… voicing that possibility out loud just felt like detonating a bomb in this trial room. A certain… red-haired….. “bomb”. Quietly, he sighs, shakily tapping his podium.

“......I am certainly willing to discuss the information about AZ-8, however…. I personally don’t think Erisu is the missing sibling. I’ll start the discussion as to what we know about them, although. We know that they were raised with the intention to learn about mathematics. However, they disappeared from the facility due to their mother fleeing back to Japan, her home. From there, the facility has been doing research to track down the missing sibling, from facial recognition to using satellite imagery to identify them. So, they were hellbent on getting them back, as well as finding a vessel for their research.”

There, Kenshin sighs once more. “Now, into why I’m unsure AZ-8 is Erisu. It’s obvious that AZ-8 is working with PI-2 and GR-4-” He gestures to the sisters. That’s you! “-based on the stuff that we’ve seen around the facility. The cicada plushie, the extra office and its accessories, the movies and other stuff in the various secret rooms, the lab coat… it’s obvious that they’re here, working with them behind the scenes. So, let me ask you all this:”

“If Erisu was AZ-8, why would she betray her ‘siblings’? I mean, she did attack An, probably in hopes of giving access to the rest of the floors for us, so why would she do that if she was on their side? That’s what I’m confused about, not to mention…”

“The files of us with the added notes, the ones found in the surveillance room. AZ-8 I assume added their own thoughts and feelings on the people available, suggesting motives to get them to kill or how they could use said person.” As he says that, Kenshin scoffs. He’s still pretty upset over all that, but he’s not going to focus on those feelings. “Erisu was in those files, at least, the start to her profile. If she was involved, why would she want a file on herself? She doesn’t need that sort of stuff. Meaning, AZ-8 probably has no file on themself, instead taking notes of everyone else.”

There, Kenshin pauses, eyeing a couple people. “I know there are quite a few files missing, but it’s a start, right? Let’s keep connecting all that information in.”

[yesthatssadirichardslove]

Review: The good and the bad of the Golden Globes

LOS ANGELES

Tuesday night doesn’t really scream “glamorous awards show.”

We’ve been trained to expect those on Sundays, when you can spend a lazy evening half-watching E! reporters vamp in formal wear for hours on end, waiting for stars to arrive as you do other things. Sundays are elegant. Tuesdays are not.

But the embattled Hollywood Foreign Press Association probably didn’t have much say in the matter if they wanted to get the Golden Globe Awards back on broadcast television in time for its 80th anniversary. So, Tuesday it was.

Hollywood, in large part, turned out too, acting as though it wasn’t a rainy weekday in Southern California and as though they hadn’t just a year ago protested the existence of the show. Brad Pitt and Angela Bassett came. So did Steven Spielberg and Ryan Coogler. Everyone played their roles.

There were gowns and suits and bow ties and diamonds, clavicle bones and updos. Eddie Redmayne even had an oversized Carrie Bradshaw-esque satin flower affixed to his suit lapel. On the sodden silver carpet, Laverne Cox swooned over Austin Butler and Michelle Yeoh’s nominated performances, in “Elvis” and “Everything Everywhere All At Once,” respectively. No one seemed very worried about being there.

How much is the viewing audience — aside from the select few who are both very online and film fans — really thinking about the organization that votes for these awards? Once the lights go down, it’s all about the show that’s right in front them — the stars, the speeches, the laughs. But host Jerrod Carmichael made sure to remind everyone of the ugly truths behind all the glitz and advertising dollars at the start.

In the familiar ballroom of the Beverly Hilton hotel, awards went to good people who gave good, emotional speeches.

Ke Huy Quan, winning the first award of the night for his big comeback role in “Everything Everywhere All At Once,” warmed hearts shouting out Spielberg for giving him his first opportunity. The cameras were ready to cut back to the director, who cheered on the kid he directed so long ago in “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.”

Jeremy Allen White, who catapulted to fame with “The Bear,” quivered when he mentioned his beloved, late manager Chris Huvane, continuing to say “thank you” as he walked off stage in a daze. “The White Lotus’” Jennifer Coolidge wasn’t the only one reflecting on her own career and life on stage. Even Spielberg, normally stoic, got teary-eyed during his own turn the podium.

The room looked like a dimly lit lounge, with endless champagne on the tables and a piano player decked in white feathers while giving theatrical flourishes to the “Sex and the City” theme and vamping for the cameras.

Bassett and Quinta Brunson learned the hard way that reading acceptance speeches off their phones was perhaps a mistake as family and friends texted them congratulations for their win. Colin Farrell used his own acceptance speech to compliment Ana de Armas’ performance in “Blonde,” as well as all of his “Banshees of Inisherin” collaborators, down to Jenny the donkey. Both he and Yeoh scolded the piano music that started to play them off.

“Shut up, please!” Yeoh said. “I can beat you up.”

It wasn’t for another hour that Carmichael would step up to clarify that the woman shown at the piano, Chloe Flower, was not actually the one playing many a winner off. It was a track, he said.

In many ways, the big film acting winners — Yeoh, Butler, Farrell and Quan — at the Globes looked like a possible rehearsal for those who might take the stage on Oscar night in March. But is that a good thing?

Depends on who you’re asking: For those campaigning, the value is clear. For those watching, well, it might just start to feel redundant. They also came very, very early in the show that somehow kept going past 11 p.m. Eastern (despite the aggressive playing off).

But Carmichael kept the room on edge even well into the show as he came out, some 90 minutes in, holding “Tom Cruise’s three returned Golden Globe statuettes” and suggesting they could be used in exchange for “the safe return of Shelly Miscavige," Scientology leader David Miscavige’s wife who hasn’t been seen in public for years.

“Anyway, from ‘Top Gun: Maverick,’ please welcome Glen Powell and Jay Ellis,” Carmichael followed, introducing two Cruise co-stars.

Moments later, Shelly Miscavige was trending on Twitter.

“It’s a good thing Tom’s not here,” Ellis said. It was about something else, technically, but also not.

Later, Carmichael got in an edgy dig in at Will Smith too, saying they gave him the “Rock Hudson award for best portrayal of masculinity on television” during the commercial break.

Carmichael was the live wire that kept the otherwise typical show interesting. WHAT would he say next, everyone wondered? He made Ricky Gervais look tame. Because aside from Carmichael's go-for-broke unpredictability, the 80th Golden Globe Awards was just that: Typical.

There were truly moving moments and truly boring ones too and it stayed past its welcome and got less and less climactic as the night went on. Who made the decision to present most of the major film awards at the beginning of the show? By the time Eddie Murphy finally got his Cecil B. DeMille honor and got in his own dig at Smith, it felt as though the show was already on its fourth ending. But there were still honors, the obligatory HFPA president speech and a shouting Quentin Tarantino to come.

What do we really want in an awards show? It’s the big, existential question that doesn’t just plague the Golden Globes. A little dose of Coolidge, Regina Hall and a tipsy, hungry Mike White never hurts. But the fact remains: It’s hard to throw a comeback party on a Tuesday.

[hockeyshmockey]

Max Verstappen- My Girl

Max Verstappen x oc

summary: after Bahrain, Max is riled up and goes looking for fight. 

warnings: angst w a happy ending don’t yall fret, cursing possibly

“Oh no,” Anna gasped from her couch as the tv began airing the soundbites from Max’s radio. Her two roommates were sitting on the couch with her, and though they didn’t understand the race, they could tell by Anna’s face and Max’s voice something was going wrong. 

what is happening, Anna texted Victoria quickly. Max’s sister had been able to get away for the weekend to attend the Bahrain GP, but with Anna’s role as a Social Media Manager with a sports foundation, she had few weekends she could take off to watch Max race. 

something with the engine? they think he’ll be fine to finish, Victoria responded promptly, loosening the tightness in Anna’s chest a bit. 

The girl got up to go to the kitchen for another glass of wine and more popcorn. She was gone for maybe 8 minutes, and by the time she was back in front of the TV, Max had retired to the pit. 

“No,” she groaned as the tv showed her boyfriend hauling himself out of the car.

“What does that mean?” Ella asked as she and their third roommate Alejandra saw the stress on Anna’s face. 

“He gets no points for the race,” Anna sighed as she thumbed through her phone to text Max for whenever he got his phone back on. 

I am sorry bebe, this race didn’t go the way you wanted. You did the best you could, now its up to the engineers to figure out what is going on. Call me later, te amo

Anna finished watching the race, smiling briefly for Carlos’ win but her spirits fell again when Checo also was out of the race. “Jesus,” Anna shook her head as she turned off the TV shortly after Charles took the podium.

She and the other girls chatted as they cleaned up from their snacks and the living room before heading to their rooms for the night. Anna texted back and forth with Victoria, the girl letting her know Max had done dinner with his team and family and were now heading to the hotel. 

She scrolled through twitter a little, trying to stay away from the F1 tag but it kept popping up. With a sigh, she set her phone down and picked up a book on the nightstand to keep her occupied while waiting for her phone to ring. 

An hour later, Anna was jolted out of her book when the small chimes began coming from her phone. Smiling sadly she picked it up, accepting the facetime call. 

“Hi honey,” she greeted softly as Max’s tired face came on the camera. He had definitely just gotten out of the shower based on his wet hair and bare chest. “How are you doing?”

“Not good,” the dutch man grumbled as he shuffled around in his hotel bed. “It’s just bullshit.”

“I know,” she soothed. “What did they say after the race? Any updates?”

“Not sure, I’ve been dodging calls until I can talk about it without blowing up,” Max sighed.

“Oh babe.”

“Don’t look at me like that Anna,” Max’s eyes got fiery. “I don’t need that.”

“Max what-”

“With pity. It’s bullshit.”

“Max,” Anna said softly in confusion. “I don’t pity you, I wish you had had a better outcome because I know you’re going to be hard on yourself.”

“Why shouldn’t I be hard on myself, and my team?” He barked, sitting up in bed. 

“Max, I don’t even know whats happening right now. I’m trying to be sympathetic but my patience Is running out when you’re speaking to me like this,” Anna tried to stay calm. 

“Yeah well I don’t need your sympathy. I needed you here. I needed you to take the time to come be here with me,” Max ranted as he carded his hand through his hair. 

“Max, we talked about this,” the girl said through gritted teeth. “I was able to get clearance for 10 race weekends this year, if I stayed back for the first. Would you rather me be at 3 races this season?”

“I don’t care Anna, you should’ve been here,” he glared through the phone. 

“Listen Max. I don’t know what you think is happening here, but you having a bad race does not give you the right to start lashing out at everyone. If I am going to be to blame because my job won’t let me hold your hand every weekend, as much as I want to, whenever you have a bad race, we need to reevaluate.”

The blonde man stared at Anna through the screen as her chest heaved and her cheeks went red with anger.

“Nothing to say?” She snapped. “Well then, maybe I’ll see you when you get home.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

48 hours later, with no contact from her boyfriend, there was a knock on Anna’s apartment door. She opened it with a sigh, nodding at the blonde in front of her who had a bouquet of flowers and a rolling bag.

“Hello,” Max greeted sullenly as Anna observed him. She stepped to the side to allow him in without another word. “You alright?” He asked as he set down his things and turned to face her in the kitchen.

He internally winced at the frown on her face and her crossed arms as she shrugged in response. He silently held out a hand, waiting for a moment for her to deflate a little and accept it. He pulled her gently into his arms, burying his head in her neck as she began to scratch his back by habit. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I was pissed with the race and the car and the engineers and took it out on you. That wasn’t right of me, and I’m going to be better.”

“I appreciate your apology,” she pulled back. “But I’m worried this will become a thing. You know I can’t be at every race. And I don’t want you to be resenting me for it.”

“I know darling,” he pulled her back in to his arms. “I don’t, I promise. I know how important your job is to you, and I know you are making sacrifices to come and support me. I need to show you more appreciation for it, and I’m sorry I haven’t been.”

“I just don’t want this to be a habitual argument,” she sighed, nuzzling into his chest as she relaxed into his familiar embrace. 

“It won’t Anna,” he pulled back slightly so he could smirk down at her. “You’re my girl.” 

With that he leaned down to kiss her frown away.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

champion | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x driver!reader word count: 2.2k request: yes/no. by an anon: "Hi there. Do you write smut? If not my apologies, just ignore this. If you do I have a prompt. Mick dating fellow driver (a female) and winning his first GP, then having sex with her for the first time as a form of celebration?" okay so i don't usually write smut (so please don't take it bad if you request smut and i decline). i had zero inspiration to write anything else so i just went for this. warnings: smut. 18+ only. if you're under 18 you will be blocked. oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving). it's one of the first times i've written smut so please be kind. swear words, mick being cheeky. (please let me know if i've missed anything, like i said i'm not very used to writing smut and maybe some things went over my head as i reviewed it. but be kind, please.) a/n: yeah. i've written smut like two or three times a looong time ago. and since then i've felt terrified to try again, which is why i didn't go too in-depth during the actual sex. let me know what you think! i can't believe i've written and posted one fic a day for four days in a row. wow. funny story, me and my dumb ass misread this request as well and i was writing something else and i was so inspired when i realized my mistake lmao. i'm definitely saving that draft for later.

my masterlist

"the gap to mick is 0.5, and to hamilton is 1.3. give it your all."

your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, you could feel the sweat dripping down your body from anticipation.

there were just two laps left, mick had never been this close to a win. you watched as your boyfriend in the car in front of you sped up, catching up with hamilton and you did the same. you kept your distance at first when mick tried to overtake him, he went on the inside of a curb and you went full throttle. hamilton went wide, and that gave you the advantage to overtake him as well.

on the last lap you could taste victory, you were so close to mick, but you knew what this would mean for him, so you didn't try to fight him for the position.

a 1-2 for your team was the best result possible, no matter who ended up on the top spot. the checkered flag was being waved, and mick schumacher had just won his first grand prix in formula one.

as your race engineer congratulated you on the amazing work the entire race, starting p11 and finishing p2 was quite the hard work, you and mick did a final lap together, trying to keep the cars side by side as you lift your fist in the air, trying to stop yourself from jumping up and down in the car.

you parked the car in front of a board with a large '2' on it. and right next to you, your boyfriend parked his in the long-awaited first place spot. you got out of the car, rushing to his side. he hugged you, laughing as he twirled you around. you made your way to where your team waited for the both of you.

as you stood on the podium, mick placed an arm around you, buzzing with excitement. he pulled you to his side, and you climbed on the top spot. he grasped your hand in his and lifted them, stretching your arms up high as you held your trophies with your free hands.

mick couldn't keep his hands off you the entire night. you'd gone for drinks at the bar of the hotel you were staying at, but neither of you drank anything because your diets didn't allow it, not that you needed the alcohol to enjoy the night. you let him have his way with you, he was a champion after all.

and champions deserved their prize.

the entire day your mind kept looking forward to the night. you and mick hadn't been intimate yet. you'd been together for two months, the best months of your life, and you were taking your time getting to know each other's likes and dislikes, plus, you didn't have that much experience, but this was the best way to end a perfect day, and you felt ready.

as you stumbled to your room you closed the door behind you, mick's grip on your waist tight. you fell back on your bed, and mick climbed on top of you, kissing your cheek.

you still had adrenaline running in your veins, and you waited until you both calmed down to let him know your decision. you thought he'd fallen asleep until you felt his lips nipping at your neck. you continued to let him decorate your neck with lovebites and bruises, occasionally dragging his lips up to yours. you could spend the entire night like this, but you had other plans.

"mick, mick," you said as his lips met the side of your neck. he hummed in reply, nipping and biting. "i think i'm ready," he froze for a moment, unsure if he'd heard you right.

"what?" he asked, leaning his weight on his arms, his face so close to yours, you couldn't stop yourself as you leaned forward and captured his lips in a short embrace.

"i want to be yours, completely. i'm ready," you said, he smiled at you, kissed your cheek before he flipped you two over, so you were on top of him. his hands snaked around your waist, pushing you until your chest laid flat against him.

"baby, please don't feel pressured to do it. you don't own me anything, i just want to spend one of the best nights of my life with you, we don't have to do anything." he said and he looked at you with those big blue eyes of his, his stare so soft and hypnotizing it made you dizzy.

"i know, but i want to. you've done so much for me, and you've said it yourself. i'd like to end one of the best nights of my life, as well, with you."

"fuck, i love you." he couldn't contain himself.

"me too," you said for the first time, grabbing his face and colliding your lips with his as he flipped you over again.

the kiss started slow, you were taking your time exploring him in a new light, you couldn't help but feel extremely nervous, you didn't have that much experience. his hands sliding down the sides of your body brought you back from your thoughts, making you gasp. you dragged your hands down his back, slipping under his shirt, feeling his skin, scratching it with your nails.

you took your time as the kiss grew heated, your heartbeat speeding almost as fast as the cars you drove. you sighed deeply as his lips met your neck again, he bit and sucked and licked, making you feel a pleasure you hadn't before.

the clothes came off, you stared at each other with pure adoration in your eyes.

"are you sure?" he asked, making you feel warm inside. your fingers were in his hair, so you pulled him towards your face and joined your lips, hoping that would answer his question. "okay, but you have to tell me the moment you start feeling uncomfortable. this isn't just about me."

"i promise," you said.

his lips descended down your neck, to your breasts, where he took his time giving attention to each peak. he continued his journey, kissing all over your stomach, his breath and soft lips tickling you. once he reached your aching core he locked eyes with you. he sat on his knees, pulled your legs apart, on each side of him.

tentatively, his thumb touched your sensitive skin, making you flinch. his eyes instantly flew to your face, "is this okay?" he whispered as his fingers stilled.

"yes. don't stop," you gasped, he nodded, his eyes flying back to where his digits played with you. two of his fingers held you open for him as another circled your opening, his breath hitching. you heard a soft 'fuck' leaving his lips as he plopped down on his stomach, his warm breath hitting your tender core.

"i'm gonna use my mouth, okay?" he said, as he grabbed one of your thighs and left soft kisses.

"please," you almost moaned, the anticipation too much. you felt as if you were buzzing, electricity ran through your veins as you waited for him to do something.

the first lick caught you off guard, the air left your lungs as your head shot up to look at him between your legs. his eyes silently asked for permission, and you nodded, whispering a soft 'don't stop'. and he dived in.

your back arched off the bed, hands curled around the white sheet beneath you as he kissed and licked you in your most intimate spot. his fingers found your hypersensitive button, and the pleasure intensified by a thousand. you felt like you were burning up inside, your head dizzy with ecstasy as soft gasps left your throat.

one of his fingers circled your opening, "i have to stretch you, first." he said, and you nodded. "okay, this might hurt, so tell me and i'll stop."

"please never stop. i've never felt like this in my whole life," you admitted, too drunk on his touch to think straight.

"we're just starting, my love." he said. his pinky finger began stretching you as it made its way inside you. you closed your eyes, biting your lip and throwing your head back against the pillows.

"fuck, keep going," you creaked out. once he was fully inside, he remained still for a moment before he began pulling out slowly, then pushing back in. once you were used to his pinky, he pulled out completely, taking his finger to his mouth and cleaning it from your wetness.

he worked you out, using two and three fingers, and once you'd found a pace you were comfortable with, his lips surrounded your clit, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked and licked.

"oh my god," you whispered. your hands moved on their own accord, tangling your fingers in his blonde hair, pushing him deeper into you.

your orgasm came crashing down, you felt fireworks exploding inside your skin, a pressure that had formed in your stomach now disappearing as he continued to kiss your clit and fuck you with his fingers until you felt that same pressure start to build again.

"fuck, mick, i can't-" you choked on air, your chest was heaving as you breathed rapidly. his intense gaze made you shiver.

"let go, baby. i got you, you're almost there. you're doing so good." he praised you, connecting his lips with your bundle of nerves, and you clenched around his fingers, inner walls fluttering as you came for a second time. your legs were numb as he pulled away from you, climbing his way up your body to kiss you, making you taste yourself in his mouth.

"that was wonderful," you whispered against his lips, noses brushing.

"you did so good for me, baby. my best girl." he connected your lips again, pouring all the love and passion into it.

"i want to make you feel good," you said as you pulled away to breathe. he shook his head.

"another time, liebe. tonight is about you,"

"no, tonight is about you," you said, holding his face.

"and i want to please you tonight. please," he pleaded, and looked at you with those eyes that made it impossible for you to put up a fight. you nodded, "do you want to keep going?" he asked,

"please,"

his fingers traveled down, touching your wet core. he took off his boxers, throwing them to the side. he wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it once, twice. you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, he looked... sublime.

you bit your lip as his thick head touched your folds, slipping between them. you gasped when he pressed it against your clit, shivering in pleasure.

"you ready?"

"yes," you nodded and he slipped home.

you spent the rest of the night in his arms, he whispered how much he loved you. he was gentle and soft and showed so much devotion and commitment to make sure you received as much pleasure as he did.

you woke up feeling sore. the sun slipping through the curtains hit your eyes, so you turned your back, being careful to not wake up mick. you tried to get up to use the restroom, but your legs trembled as you tried to stand. you fell on the floor, and let out a yelp before you could stop yourself.

that woke him up

mick sat up, looking from side to side until he found you on the floor.

"what happened?" he asked as he got up and ran to you. he helped you up and sat you on the bed. you couldn't stop the soft giggles that left your mouth.

"you broke me," you said, pointing to your crotch area. "i tried to stand up and my legs gave up on me." you laughed at the absurd situation you were in.

"wow, that is a confidence boost," he smirked, kneeling on the floor in front of you. you slapped his arm playfully, which only made him laugh harder. "sorry, sorry."

"guess you'll have to be my slave for the day," you said, kissing his cheek.

"if this is the price i have to pay every time we're together i'll take it," he said. throwing himself on top of you, making you squeal as you fell backwards against the bed.

"shut up, i need to use the bathroom," you pouted.

"should i get you a wheelchair?" he said, raising his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes. he leaned back and stood up.

"i got fucked hard, not hit by a train," you replied, and made grabby hands at him. he held your hands and placed one arm under your knees and the other circled your back. he left you in the bathroom whilst you did your business, he waited behind the closed door.

"i don't think there's a difference," he continued his playful banter and you scoffed.

"get over yourself, schumacher. i'm the one in charge here," you said and slowly got up to wash your hands. once he heard you were done he knocked on the door and opened it once you gave him the all-clear. your fingers gripped the sink to keep you in place, and he quickly put his arm around your waist to steady you.

"you wish," he laughed. you looked at him through the mirror, and you raised an eyebrow wickedly.

"fine. then i won't let you have me tonight," you said and his face fell.

"nooo, please," he dragged out the 'o', pouting. "i need you." he complained.

"then behave," you said as you turned around, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around him as he walked you to the bed, setting you down softly.

"i've created a monster," he mumbled against your neck. where the bruises and love bites from yesterday painted your skin.

"only for you, champion."

[imthebadguyyy]

Temporary Fix

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (fem!F1 driver!reader)

Fandom - F1

Summary - You're the only female F1 driver, and you're damn good at your job. Oh, and you also have a friends with benefits relationship with a certain 7x World Champion.

Warnings - smut, best friends -> lovers, slight exhibitionism

A/N - you have the second merc seat in this, so Valterri isn't here : (( not proof read

Sometimes, you hated yourself for following your passion. Driving a F1 car had been your dream ever since you could remember. The long process from karting to F1 had been a difficult one. When you were seven, you had a go kart track manager that you couldn't race there because you were a girl. That had cemented your will to be the best you could be, and you had done it.

You had made it into a Mercedes F1 seat after spending two years in Williams. It was safe to say that you were one of the best drivers, with killer instinct and an excellent eye for overtakes. The likes of Mika Hakkinen, Niki Lauda, Jacques Villeneuve and others had praised your skills, naming you one of the best talents in the current driver pool.

But the glory, the fame, the praise, sometimes you wished you could just evaporate into thin air. This was one of those times. Press conferences sucked, they really did. Reporters and journalists thought they were entitled to ask you the most sexist of questions, brushing them off by saying it was 'just a simple question'. Sometimes the drivers you were paired up with defended you, like Seb or Pierre or Lewis or even Kimi. Sometimes people didn't want to say anything, or they just laughed it off or answered for you.

This was not one of those times. Charles was supposed to be your partner for the press conference, but he wasn't feeling too great so you were on your own. It had started off fine, with the usual questions like 'how are you feeling about the race?' 'is it gonna be a good weekend for Mercedes?' and then it had gone to 'Do you think you being the only woman here, you should have a special suit?' or 'Are you sure it's a good idea for you to continue another year in F1?' that's what had irked you off.

With a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head, you bit back the cutting response that had sprung to your lips, opting to simply look disapprovingly in silence, speaking more words in the quiet. Eventually, the conference was over, and you made your way out of the hall, deep in thought, so lost in your own world, you didn't notice when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into one of the nearby storage closets.

Your protest of "Hey!-" was cut off by a pair of lips pressing to yours, strong arms wrapping around your torso. "Heard you had a bad day with the press" Lewis mumbled against your lips, brow furrowing when you sighed and let your head drop onto his shoulder. "Yeah they're such fucking jerks" you replied, closing your eyes. "I'm sorry you have to deal with them every time" he continued, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Eh, I mean I'd rather not talk about it" you continued, letting your fingers trace a pattern on his chest.

The silence in the room was disturbed by the ringing of Lewis's phone, making you jump softly. "Bono" he answered, looking down at the screen. "Pick it up"

"Hello?"

"Lewis, we're waiting for the meeting? And is Y/N with you?" Bono's voice rang through the tiny closet, as you turned to look at Lewis with wide eyes. Shit, the debrief. "Yeah, I'm coming! Oh, and I'll see if I can find Y/N" he replied, making you suppress a smile. The moment he put the phone down, the both of you burst into giggles, before he leaned down to press another kiss to your lips. "Well, we should go" he said, biting back a smile when you sighed, and cuddled into his shoulder. "Fine"

"But I'll make it up to you tonight baby" he continued, as a shiver ran down your spine. Oh yeah, you two had a friends with benefits situation going on too. No biggie

Except, well, you know you couldn't tell anyone, and you were definitely in love with each other, but I mean, of course it was better to be stupid and just simply refuse to acknowledge those feelings for each other.

♥︎☾☁︎

It had happened, when Lewis won his championship in Turkey. The team had thrown a (socially distant) party, and you had gotten just a little more drunk than you should have, but the champagne was flowing, tequila shots were being taken, beer was being chugged so you just jumped in and had a few more glasses of wine than you should have, and participated in a few rounds of shots.

Before you had known, a pair of hot lips had crashed onto yours, and your arms had tightly held onto a broad pair of shoulders, as the pair of you had stumbled up to your hotel room, crashing backwards onto the bed. Your drunken mind had been sober enough to recognise the 'Still I Rise' tattoo across his back when he tugged his shirt off.

At the same time, Lewis had recognised your face, heart speeding up ever so slightly because holy shit he was making out with you, and he really, really liked you. Before he knew it, your dress was down to your knees, and his shirt was a rumpled mess on the floor, your friendship gone far beyond repair, but only in the best way possible.

The next morning, you had let out a groan when the sunshine had flashed into your eyes, rolling over to find Lewis lying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he slept peacefully. Your heart rate had sped up, and you had shot up, scaring the living day light out of Lewis. He had awoken with a start, confusion present in his brown eyes, before realization had sunk in, and he had shot out of bed, wrapping one of the towels around his lower body.

But before the two of you could get awkward, he had strutted over to you, grabbing your face in his hands before pulling you in for a kiss that made you feel weak and light headed.

And then the both of you came to the conclusion that you two wanted something loose and flexible, something fun with no commitment.

But was it what you wanted?

♥︎☾☁︎

Sometimes debriefs could drag on. And on. And on. Eventually, the engineers left the room, leaving only Toto, Lewis, Bono, Angela, James and yourself in the room. Over the years, it had become like a family for you, and you loved them to absolute bits. The mood in the room had changed, as you all joked around for a while.

Watching from the other side of the room, Lewis couldn't help the smile that etched itself onto his face, when he saw you throw your head back with laughter at something Toto said, inhaling sharply when your neck came into clear view, a sudden urge to mark you up settling in on his body.

It was a thrill, to think of how many times you had come undone on his fingers and his tongue, how many nights you begged for him to fill you up with his cock. It was a thrill to think of all the times he had cried your name out in ecstasy while your tongue worked wonders around him. And yet, here you were, acting as if you two were just best friends, not two people who could barely keep their hands off of each other.

Just two nights ago, he had made you scream his name so loud, the person the next room, who just happened to be Daniel, had not let him hear the end of it. Thankfully, the Aussie hadn't realized it was you in his bed. Two nights ago, he had made you see stars, and after that you had rewarded him with the performance of his life to Nights Like This by Kehlani.

Snapping back to reality when a slight poke was applied to his shoulder, Lewis looked over to see Angela looking at him with a slight smirk on her face. He strongly suspected that the woman definitely had some sort of inkling about the both of you. How ? No idea. But she was a crazy smart woman, and was bound to have figured out that he was seeing someone.

It didn't help that atleast half the people on the grid had at some point teased him, telling him the both of you were made for each other. It was like the universe was pushing the both of you to be together, and he kept pushing it away

"So are we feeling confident going into this weekend?" Toto asked, grabbing his attention from the smirking blonde.

"Yup!" Your cheery answer elicited a smile from everyone in the room. "Yeah I think so" he said, watching as you flashed him a quick smile. "Okay, then, I think we're done for now. Any questions?" Bono asked, scanning a data sheet in front of him. "No, i'm good" you replied, reaching over to grab your phone. "Yeah me too" Lewis said, far too concerned with what was going to happen later that night to pay his full attention to Bono.

"Okay then. We'll see you tomorrow"

And with that they departed. Before Lewis could follow you, a hand grabbed his and he turned to see Angela, Toto and Bono looking at him expectantly. "So whose got you all distracted and flustered?" Angela asked, earning a smirk from Toto. "What? No one" he replied, slapping himself mentally for being all day dreamy during a meeting. "Oh really? I'm willing to bet you didn't hear anything I said during the meet except the last bit" Bono said, smiling when his driver got visibly flustered.

"So do we know her?" Angela continued, watching him closely for any giveaway reactions. "How would you know her if I don't like anyone?" Lewis said, hoping to God it didn't come across as awkward as it sounded.

"Never said you liked anyone. I'm saying you're in love with someone" Angela said, watching as her friend's eyes widened in shock, and he shook his head profusely. "Okay are you on something? I'm just gonna head back to the hotel now" he murmured, confused, and somewhat taken aback by her bluntness.

Ignoring the looks on the others faces, he made his way out to the paddock, trying his hardest to make sense of his feelings. Was a casual relationship with you what he wanted? He wanted so much more than that.

Lewis knew, deep down in his heart, that he wanted to hold your hand in public, and kiss you right on the lips in front of everyone when you shared a podium. He wanted to be able to call you his, to not just spend the night with you, but to spend all his days with you. But you didn't want that.

Or so he thought.

♥︎☾☁︎

Back at the hotel, Lewis busied himself with working out, trying to push all his frustrations out via the workout. He knew that you were going to turn up in the night, and he looked so damn forward to seeing you each night, but god, he hated it when you left in the morning. Every morning when your warm body slipped out from under the sheet, his arms would tighten for a moment, before your giggle would bring him back to reality and he'd hastily draw back, smiling at you. His favourite moment was when he came to your hotel room in Spain. In the morning, he had woken up before you, and before leaving, he had pressed a little kiss to your forehead. The most gorgeous smile had curled onto your lips, and his heart had melted into a little puddle when you rested your cheek on his hand

And then in Monaco, when he had taken you to his apartment, you had woken up before him, and he had woken up to the sight of you bringing a tray of pancakes and fruits, followed by a soft kiss to his cheek.

It was those moments he cherished, but it was those same moments that confused him.

His train of thought was broken when a knock echoed in the room, as he walked over to the door, opening it to find : you

"Hey" you greeted him, walking in and shedding your jacket. "Hey" he replied, reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat off of his body. "Wow um, is this a bad time?" You asked, eyes trailing down his abs, watching as his body glistened in the fading sun light. "No its fine, I just finished my workout. You hungry?" He continued, biting back a smirk when he saw your eyes roaming his body.

"W-what? Yeah, i, um, suppose - yeah" you murmured, mind already far down the gutter.

"For food darling, not for sex" he said, making you blush and let out a small gasp. "Lewis!" You chided, shoving him softly. "You know you were thinking it" he mumbled, pushing you up against the wall. "Yeah I was" you whispered back, yanking him forward by his shoulders, slamming your lips against his.

Lifting you up from the waist, he pressed his body further into yours, one of his hands wandering down to your ass, squeezing harshly, earning a moan from your lips. Taking the opportunity, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning when you let your core grind against him.

Leading you towards the bed, he stopped in confusion when you stopped him, maneuvering him towards the balcony. "Want you to fuck me against the window or in the balcony" you gasped out, earning a moan from him.

"Right where anyone could see us, hmm? Didn't know you were into that baby" he growled, grabbing your earlobe in between his teeth, earning an airy gasp from you, as the wetness threatened to seep down your legs.

"Mmhmm" was all you could muster, your mind so clouded with desperation you couldn't form a single coherent thought. The only thing you were aware of was that only Lewis could make you feel the pleasure you wanted to feel, only he would take you to that little piece of heaven, only he would hold your hand and fuck you into oblivion, and he would still be there to clean you down with a sponge softly.

"If you insist"

Grabbing you roughly, he slammed your body against the massive hotel room window, ripping the mercedes team shirt you were wearing off of your quivering form, letting it drop to the floor, before he hooked his fingers into the material of your jeans, tugging the denim down your legs

With a soft groan, you pulled his nike shorts down his legs, moaning when his cock came into view, the throbbing in between your legs making you whimper, arousal and need growing tenfold in your tummy.

"Please" you whispered, meeting his eyes, so he could see the pure desperation in your eyes. "Please what?" He said, a certain roughness you hadn't heard before creeping into his voice

"Please fuck me" you moaned, gasping when he brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly. "Oh trust me doll, i will. But first, i want to have you dripping wet and ready for me. I want to make you cum on my fingers, so you're wet and ready for my cock. Do you want my fingers princess?" he continued, feeling his arousal grow when you whimpered and whined.

"Words baby girl. Or I'll just leave you here with your pathetic fingers. I bet you can't even reach all those spots inside you that make you scream, when your tiny little fingers try to please yourself. I bet you just feel like sinking into yourself, but the thought of my fingers keeps you awake. Do you do that, sweet girl? Do you pretend your fingers are mine when you're touching yourself, hmm?'

When you didn't answer, he delivered a smack to your ass, groaning when you moaned at the pleasurable sting. "Yes" you whispered abashed.

"Don't be shy baby. Its okay. I know you feel so good when I love on you. I can see it when you scream my name" and with that, his pointer finger began circling your clit, rubbing circles around it before shifting so he was rubbing the sensitive bud directly.

Your moans of ecstasy were music to his ear, a smile gracing his features, as he let his middle finger slip into you, thrusting it in and out of you. Your soft cry of "fuck" cracked when he shoved his pointer into you as well, scissoring them in and out of you

"Oh fucking hell Lew-" "Shh my darling, i didn't say you could talk, did I?" He said, fingers working at an indescribably quick pace, as the knot in your tummy tightened and threatened to loosen. "I'm gonna-" "go ahead baby" he murmured, using his pointer and thumb to pinch your clit roughly, as you came around his fingers with a scream

"Good girl. You wanna put that pretty little mouth to use somewhere else?" he asked, watching as you dropped to your knees eagerly, (just like I would do irl) reaching up to rest your hands on his hips.

"Someone's eager to suck my cock hmm? Be a good girl for me, and don't waste time" he ordered, a shudder running down his body when your nails traced the veins on his cock, and then as they reached downwards, your thumb circling his tip, collecting his pre cum on your finger. Then you shoved your thumb in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, before sucking softly on your digit, rolling your eyes back. You were snapped back to reality when Lewis roughly yanked your head up, pure arousal clouding his pupils

"You better use your mouth right now, or i swear i will leave you here alone to pleasure yourself" he threatened, moaning when you took his tip into your mouth at once, sucking softly before swirling your tongue upwards.

The feel of your tongue on him made him buck his hips into your mouth, the unexpected movement pushed him quite far back in your mouth, looking up at him, you hollowed out your cheeks, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth, the sounds he was making above you fuelling you. You took him as far back as you could without gagging, as a strangled moan of "Fuck Y/N!"left his lips. He grabbed your hair, tugging upwards, the tingling on your scalp sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "Fuck baby, you're gonna have to stop now, I really want to fuck you now" he growled out, pulling you up before pushing you towards to balcony railing

Lining up with your entrance, he watched as you let out a shaky breath, eyes falling shut, as you clenched in anticipation.

"Are you sure you want this Y/N?" he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign that he was being too rough, or that you didn't want what was coming next

"Turning your head around to face him, you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. "I've never been more sure baby" was your affirming reply.

Kissing you back with the same fervour, he slowly pushed into you from behind, the both of you groaning in sync when your walls enveloped him. "fuck you feel so good darling. So fucking tight" lewis moaned, making you moan as well as the pleasure coursed through your veins.

Reaching around you, Lewis rubbed your clit while he continued to snap his hips against yours, making your breasts bounce against your chest, your hands gripping the balcony railing for dear life. Thank god it was dark.

He continued to rub and pinch you clit, before swiping his fingers through your wet folds. Then he shoved his fingers into your mouth, prompting you to suck on them

"Be an angel and suck on my fingers for me" he growled, moaning when your mouth eagerly closed around his fingers, sucking them with fervour.

Snapping his hips into you desperately, his hands encircled your waist, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, swishing his fingers around in your mouth. "Fuck baby thats it, i'm gonna cum" he groaned, capturing your earlobe in between his teeth, moaning when you clenched down on him again

"Oh fucking hell-" with a moan, he came into you, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to rub your clit again, sighing with satisfaction when you came around him with a scream of "Lewis!"

Panting, he dragged you back to the bed, both of you collapsing into the covers.

Your chest rising and falling rapidly, you curled up into his chest, letting your head droop onto his shoulder, as his fingers traced his initials onto your hip.

"Well princess, we seem to have a problem here" he said, as you snapped your head up to look at him in confusion.

"I think i'm in love with you"

♡☾☁︎

A/N - part 2? Also feel free to drop a comment, i'd really appreciate it 🤍 thank you so much for reading 🤍

[quotessharry]

Mystery of love (Maxiel one shot)

Hello people, last night during a conversation and sleepy haze at 3-4 am I thought I might fuck around and write a little Maxiel piece and here we are, thanks to my bestie for not talking me out of it

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Max Verstappen

Word count: 1.7k

Warning: none

Also you can listen to this, I think it matches

No one could deny how good looking Daniel Ricciardo was, it didn’t matter if you were a man or woman, he was undeniably hot.

Max always thought he was, never gave it too much thought because that’s what everyone else thinks. Yet he couldn’t help but linger on his compliments, friendly-sometimes- inappropriate touches and his effort to make him laugh. No one has ever tried to coax a laugh or smile out of Max and since his first arrival in RedBull Daniel had made this his sole mission. He’s been there for him in ways Max wouldn’t even expected from a teammate but Daniel was so selfless and light hearted, he’d give without expecting anything in return, he’d put up with him being grumpy and awkward, would try and light up the atmosphere during debrief sessions. During an occasion when Max was not in the mood to sit and listen to the way the race went wrong, Daniel simply surprised him by touching his hand, Max would like to think he wasn’t phased by his warm hands, soft touch and slander fingers but he couldn’t deny the way his heart seemed to skip a beat.

Daniel on the other hand was very intrigued by his teammate who seemed like a grumpy cat most of the time, he wanted to do his best and bring him out of his shell, to let him relax and laugh as carefree as him. At the end of the day Max was one of the youngest on the grid and as his teammate he wanted to make him as comfortable as possible, he knew he shouldn’t but anytime something would go wrong for the younger he couldn’t hide the way him, too would also feel upset. But nonetheless would put on a smile and crack a joke, it was always such a relief to watch the tension leaving Max’s body and his shoulder relaxing.

The buzz in RedBull garage was so high after the double podium, even though Max and Daniel were separated by Lewis no one was complaining. Daniel’s loud laugh could be heard at every corner of the garage, music playing loud enough to annoy the teams next to them. Max changed from his sweaty race suit as soon as he could but Daniel was still walking around in his, which now had a mixed smell of sparkling wine and sweat. The smell was too familiar with Max when Daniel appeared next to him “that was some gorgeous driving on track Max, you did so well, proud of ya” he grinned wide, genuinely happy that his teammate has won.

Max returned his smile just as big, pulling him for a hug without minding how wet his race suit was or how sweaty he smelled, he felt like his cheeks blushed by the firm hug Daniel returned but was sure people would think it’s because of the awfully hot weather. Max didn’t pull away completely “you did well too, we brought in a double podium”

The pair started walking towards the back of the garage, actively discussing the race they had. Daniel was walking ahead, turning his head from time to time to signal that he was listening to Max.

Max made a gesture with his hands, trying to remake the circuit “the first turn was crazy, I’m glad nothing bad happened”

Daniel turned and gave him his full attention, he’d always do it when Max was giving him explanations about the track, not intending to look distracted in his eyes “yeah I know, also nice move on Lewis you really got him there”

Max’s face bloomed at his compliment, he always felt a deep warmth anytime Daniel would tell him he did something good during a race “ah thanks mate, you weren’t so bad yourself on Bottas, that overtake was a classic”

Daniel turned his face away to hide the pink blush appearing on his face and kept walking towards his driver’s room with Max walking behind.

Somehow without giving it much thought Max ended up in his room, throwing himself on the only available piece of furniture “I’m really tired man, but what a race” his aching body relaxed and it suddenly hits him what was going to happen. Without a care about the fact that Max was sitting there, Daniel unzipped his racing suit and threw it on the floor, sighing out of relief, next came his white fireproof suit that was drenched in sweat and it landed straight on the pile on the floor. Max couldn’t get a word out, it was true he had seen this scene more times he’d like to count, but he never stopped being amazed at how good look Daniel looked. Leaned body and bronze sun kissed skin, the ink adorning his right thigh that he had never admitted to anyone in his life just how much he liked it, ripped stomach and chiseled chest, the result of long training sessions. The muscles of his biceps had him mesmerized the way he moved his hand and grabbed a dark blue RedBull shirt, the scene was gone as soon it had arrived, later his thigh tattoo was hidden by a short.

Daniel turned and glanced at Max who didn’t shy away from staring, he giggled at his face expression “I put on a show for you didn’t I”

Max blinked a few times to clear his head “what? Yeah yeah that was quiet a show you did there”

Daniel didn’t reply, instead sat down next to Max, both pressed against each other on the tiny leather sofa, he leaned his head backwards and moved closer to him, completely closing the distance left between them.

Max turned his head to look at his face in close approximate, eyes closed, long eyelashes casted a slight shadow over his skin and his curls were a mess on top of his head, his mouth had a tiny smile on and Max couldn’t help but to smile back subconsciously.

“I’m so tired that I just want to get to the hotel and sleep on a soft bed” Daniel whined, not knowing how the youngster next to him was eying him. At some point he felt a heaviness of a stare and opened his eyes, Max was taken aback but didn’t back down, curious to see how far he wanted this to go. Daniel moved his body and faced him, his elbow supporting his head. The soft expression on his face and his kind eyes had Max relaxed, deep down he knew Daniel would never react too harsh but he couldn’t be sure about this.

Daniel’s face remainder unchanged, the whole interaction made Max feel like something has crawled under his skin, somewhere between the haze of win and his own feelings he leaned in closer, close enough that they could easily kiss but he suddenly stopped, his brain reminding him that what if Daniel didn’t want this, what if he gets mad and walks out and would never want to see Max’s face ever again.

On the other hand Daniel was silently begging Max to go ahead and just do it, even if it was one time he was very willing and eager to let it happen, he tipped his head forward to show that it is ok by him, their forehead slightly touched. Daniel blinked and his eyes were fixed on his face, patiently waiting to see what the next move would be “you know It’s fine, I’m ok with it if you are” Daniel spoke in low soft voice, trying not to urge him to make a decision if he had decided he didn’t want to go ahead. The words settled the commotion in his chest and Max leaned closer until their lips met, both of them took their time, trying to enjoy the feeling of their lips locked and the way each of them kept sucking at each other’s lips. Max’s hand were aimless until Daniel grabbed his hand and locked their fingers, the gesture had his heart leaping in his chest. He got bolder and kissed harsher, even though Daniel was the most experienced one he let Max lead this the way he wanted and was comfortable with cause he was aware the first time kissing your own sex can complicate your senses. Daniel was pushed back by the force of kissing, he finally dared and put his hand on back of his head, fingers playing with his short hair.

Max couldn’t deny how good the kiss was, he knew Daniel was older and therefore more experienced but the reality was a lot better. He kept it light and sucked his lips between his like never before and drove Max crazy.

Max let go of his hand so he could easily cup Daniel’s face and not break the kiss, still not getting enough of the way it was happening. He put both of his hands on sides of his face, the beard under his fingertips felt so good and he couldn’t help but to rub his thumb on his skin over and over, this had Daniel to lose his control for a second and bite his lips but he liked it.

Both continued kissing until the air was completely knocked out of their lungs and they had no choice but to separate and catch their breath. Daniel looked over to see how Max was doing, he needed to know if he regretted it.

“Wow, that was the best kiss I’ve ever had” ok he definitely wasn’t regretting it and Daniel was thankful. Max’s eyes landed on Daniel who has been quiet since they stopped and he started rambling “Daniel I’m so fucking sorry man, fuck I didn’t really mean to do that, I understand if-“

Daniel leaned in and pecked his lips hard in an attempt to shut him up “you know Max sometimes you really need to shut up” the sentence was said with a giggle that Max laughed at it cause he was right.

Before standing up and leaving, Daniel’s fingers touched his hand in assurance, he walked towards the door and glanced at Max “you coming or not? I don’t know about you but I can use a warm embrace and hotel bed now”

[enluv]

level #14 – the big speech

wc; 926!

genre/warning(s): written content, angst, cheesy tooth rotting sweet fluff, beomgyu is so cute pls :(

Beomgyu's nerves heighten as he watches you walk down the long red carpet into the Gala's home building. He'd shown up twenty minutes earlier with Yeonjun and Soobin, Hueningkai and Taehyun having already started hosting a few hours before. He knew you'd be there but he was still in awe at the way you'd walked out wearing the purple dress your best friends had chosen for you. They'd told him before hand what you'd be wearing so it was easier to spot you when he gave his speech.

Speaking of his speech, it was long. The longest thing he'd ever written probably, but every word meant so much. His time was short and if he was going to confess his love for you, he might as well go out with a boom while doing it.

Hueningkai's tall form walks towards him holding a mic, he'd just finished interviewing the last round of celebrities arriving and was now moving to the stage. Food would be severed shortly and then the moment Beomgyu had been preparing for would come.

"You look constipated," Hueningkai jokes trying to get his friend to laugh but to no end doesn't it work.

"Do you think she hopes we don't run into each other? She looks really happy with Eric and Sunwoo."

Hueningkai sighs, as his attempts fail at making Beomgyu's mood brighten. "Honestly Gyu, I think she's just trying to have a good time tonight, after everything that's happened, you're probably the last thing on her mind, but that's why you need to tell her how you feel. It'll get her to see you like she once did and things will be okay again."

The seating arrangement wasn't necessarily picked by anyone. The company hosting the gala had made a pre-planned seating chart and to his dismay, Beomgyu and his friends sat right next to your table.

Dinner was awkward to say the least, stolen glances and burning stares from the other really topped it off, but thankfully it went quickly, and soon came the winners speeches. Eric was up first, second was Felix, after him Chanhee, then Hyunjin, and finally, Beomgyu.

"...well it was a ride, but thank you to those who supported me throughout it all! This one's for you, my lovely supporters!" Hyunjin's final words fly past Beomgyu's head as he's quickly handed a mic.

"It's your turn Beomgyu. Good luck!" Taehyun ushers the boy on stage as quickly as possible and with his cards in hand he walks slowly towards the black podium in the middle.

His sticky hands set down the cards as neatly as possible while he tries to remain focused on the most important target in the room, you.

"Hello, sorry for the nerves, feeling a bit of pressure after all those amazing speeches before me," he jokes lightly, "I'll be honest, if you'd told me that I was going to be standing infront of all of you, here at the iconic Gaming Gala a year ago, I'd have laughed in your face and went on studying for midterms. Yet, here I am today, a year later thriving in my field and fully appreciative of that. I want to thank everyone who pushed me to follow my dreams, and kept me on the right track. My tomorrow brother's who continued to push streaming onto me even when I continuously said no, my manager who puts up with my "brat-like" attitude as some reporters would say, but most importantly there is someone here tonight that I'd like to thank profusely, and that's my girl," his hand points outward at you and the crowd surrounding him begins to murmur as all eyes turn to you, seated smack in the middle of your cheesing best friends.

"Y/N, without you there would be no me. If you hadn't left I wouldn't have been #1 and if you hadn't come back I would have never dmed you about getting that spot back, but most importantly if you hadn't shown me love and compassion I'd be lost in fame and money. You are the reason I want to continue doing what I love most, you are the reason I smile, the reason I go out and face this crazy ass world. I know that a lot has happened between us but I'm glad it did because if we never met, I'd be stuck and alone, never finding my purpose, which is to be my happiest in life, with you. I really do love you."

The crowd around you let's out a course of "awe's" and "wow", and Beomgyu knows he's done good when your eyes roll and you smile up at him from your seat at the table next to his. You may still have a lot to talk about but he knows things will be okay now.

As he walks off the stage, you're standing to the right waiting for him. His once confident demeanor falters, as he now has to face the reality of if you'll take him back into your life or not.

You awkwardly give him a wave and his heart beats faster. Maybe he should turn the other way – no he needs to do this, even if you tell him to get lost forever.

"Hi," he breathes stopping only a few feet in front of you.

"Hi gyu, heard you love me or whatever."

His smile widens at your words. He really does love you and if he has to spend days, weeks, months, even years reminding you he will.

"Yeah I do love you."

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taglist: is CLOSED!

[theringers]

august - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part ten

summary: "august sipped away like a bottle of wine, 'cause you were never mine"

warnings: this shit is sad

3 years later

You walked hand and hand with your son down the streets of Monaco. It was his first day of preschool and you were nothing short of emotional. “Mommy, stop crying!” He kept shouting at you as you walked. You bent down to him.

“Mommy can’t help it. You’re such a big boy now.” You walked past a newsstand and saw the headlines on the tabloids in bold red. “Formula One Driver and Wife Divorce”. Well, that was a familiar headline.

You took a few steps closer to see the faces in the photo. It was your husband’s career after all. Your son complained as you dragged him closer to the newsstand.

The subheading read in smaller font. “Pierre and Anna Gasly finalize divorce just days after filing”. No way. It was a quick divorce with little to no proceedings. He wanted out and he wanted out bad.

More tears fell, but this time it was for a different reason.

He finally left her. The poor guy suffered long enough, doing everything possible to make her happy and him getting absolutely nothing in return. You were hoping he could now find true love and happiness with someone other than the horrible woman he married. To replace you.

It had been almost three years since you spoke to Pierre. Anna’s threat stuck with you and you couldn’t break the promise you made. Not at the expense of your family. Especially while you were celebrating the birth of your son. Little Jamie was the joy of your lives. He came much earlier than expected but was fully grown and healthy. He popped out with a full head of hair as well, a dirty blonde just like his daddy.

The first few months were brutal, to say the least. He never stopped crying. No matter what you did, the loud wails never stopped. Except when he was in Max’s arms. You weren’t sure what it was about him but Max had a way with Jamie that you couldn’t recreate.

It was always tough when he was away for race weekends. You would sit in front of the tv, watching Max and rocking Jamie, hoping the sounds of the cars would soothe him. At least that’s what Max told you. “The whooshing will put him right to sleep,” he would say over the phone. You were exhausted and lacked sleep but he tried to be as positive as possible halfway across the world.

Jamie got to attend his first Grand Prix at only a month old. The Monaco Grand Prix was a sight to see for anyone. Even though he won’t remember when he’s older, there are photos to prove he was on his first podium before he could walk. His daddy held him proudly in one arm and his trophy in the other.

Every time you attend a Grand Prix, you receive a warm welcome from those around you. People are excited to see you after missing you for multiple races at a time.

There was one person who wasn’t excited to see you and you don’t blame her. Anna Gasly kept to herself and avoided you at all costs. It made your stress levels decrease knowing that she wasn’t going to seek you out and knock you out for sleeping with her man.

You could sit in Max’s driver's room or the garage and just enjoy the weekend. Cheer on your husband, exactly what you were meant to do all along.

You picked up the tabloids and examined them, going against your own rule of never reading tabloids. Those stories aren’t real, they’re pure fiction. For entertainment. But this time you hoped it wasn’t. You hoped it would be fact-checked and sources cited. A quote from the man himself.

Jamie tugged at your arm. “Mommy, I gotta go!” He said. He looked adorable in his school uniform. You got emotional just looking at him. He was so excited to be a big boy and go to school. He carried his lunchbox around for hours yesterday just to practice. He was so young and innocent. He had no idea what the universe had in store for him for his life. You crossed your fingers that he met the right girl the first time around. And that he beats his friend to her. Because he deserves all the happiness in the world.

You snapped photos of him in front of his school before waving goodbye and handing him off to the teacher. Your baby was so old and you couldn’t handle it.

The post office was directly across the street from his school, so you decided to stop in and check to see if you had any new packages. No boxes, but the postal worker did hand you two envelopes.

One envelope was stamped with your address and name. Return address, Princess Grace Hospital Lab, Monaco.

The other was handwritten. No return address but it was addressed to you.

You weren’t sure which to open first. The handwritten letter seemed more intriguing.

Y/n,

Hi. I shouldn’t be sending this but I am going to seal it up and hope for the best. If you’re really as mad at me as Anna said, feel free to throw this out. But I know she was lying.

I’ve thought about you nonstop for the last three years. It’s been exactly three years, nine months, twenty-three days, and some odd hours since I last heard your voice.

I used to think about it at night when I couldn’t sleep. You always knew how to calm me down.

Congratulations on the birth of Jamie. I know I’m late, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything when he was firstborn. He’s beautiful. He should’ve been mine. You should’ve been mine.

Anna and I are divorcing. By the time this gets to you, it should be public. If not, feel free to tell whoever you want. I don’t give a shit. I tried for too long to convince myself that she was you but no one compares to you.

You are unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. You are smart, funny, beautiful, and my better half. I didn’t want to imagine a life without you but I’ve lived it and it fucking hurts.

If nothing comes of this, I want you to know I love you. I always loved you and I always will. I think about you constantly and I can’t see that ever ending.

You look happy. I just couldn’t let another day go by without telling you how I feel. How I still feel.

I wish you all the happiness, success, and love in your future. Please don’t forget about me.

Pierre

He signed the letter with his signature, the same one he gives to fans. This made you laugh through your tears. Of course, he still loved you. Something like that doesn’t just go away overnight.

You made sure both envelopes were in your hand when you ran down the street. You busted up a set of stairs, almost tripping on the way up.

You knocked on the door and stood there waiting. “Y/n?” He said opening the door.

“Hi, Pierre.” You held up both envelopes and smiled. It was time to find out the truth.

next part

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven. 

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind. 

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks. 

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there. 

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair. 

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story." 

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.” 

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh. 

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?” 

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web. 

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project. 

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile. 

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter. 

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise. 

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine. 

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes. 

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile. 

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior. 

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging. 

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers. 

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle. 

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee. 

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler​

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

[lupically]

#C45052 | BENNETT.

genre | fluff

word count | 1753

warning | mention of injury​

note | (ignoring the obvious fact that i did not know how to end this) bennett is a good and underrated boy.

you shivered after your fist came in contact with the ice barrier.

your skin was numbed by the sheer cold to a point where the pain of punching a giant fallen icicle would simply subside into the stinging uncomfortable of your freezing skin. the sheer cold of dragonspine was nothing to make fun of, you realized that now, and you should probably not have agreed to travel here with bennett out of all people.

you never believed in superstition. curling a cord three times around the hairdryer would suffocate you, whistling past midnight would get you kidnapped by witches, looking at the clock when it strikes three brings you to alternate dimension—bennett’s terrible, unexplainable, god-awful bad luck.

you did not believe in it. even after seeing the scars that adorned his young skin, you did not believe it was the result of poor luck but only the product of a teenage boy's aggressive clumsiness during an adventure.

yet, after venturing into dragonspine with bennett, as well as razor and klee who have decided to tag along (razor convinced only after finding out klee is also going, not to watch over her for her safety but the cold mountain's livelihood), you found out you were having a change of mind.

it was very likely that you only wanted somebody to blame, though.

you four got separated after bennett slipped from a cliff, bringing you with him when his leg somehow tipped over your ankles and tripped you as well. klee and razor got distracted, it seemed, as you could hear explosions firing during your fall before your shoulder hit the soft surface of bennett‘s torso.

the two did not come down to find you guys, so you two decided to head up the mountains again in hopes to bump into them somehow. but, during an encounter with some whopperflowers, you two were backed into a cornered cave and, lo and behold, a giant and thick icicle fell atop of the spike-sprouting flowers and, conveniently, the only exit to the cave as well.

that was not mentioning all the tiny misfortunes thrown in between, such as falling into lakes, unable to find fire podiums, and slipping off snows.

therefore, no, you do not believe in superstition, but for the sake of being able to direct your anger toward someone else, you spared yourself the strictness and blamed bennett's bad luck.

"hey, look, i'm sure razor and klee will find us somehow!" bennett exclaimed with a smile after walking to your side. "you won't believe me but razor has a very keen sense of smell!"

you rolled your eyes with a huff, feeling annoyed that he still had it in him to look on the positive side. "what's he gonna do, sniff your bad luck and find his way here?"

his brows raised in curiosity. for a second, he genuinely thought about the question, then he laughed loudly and rubbed the back of his neck. "i don't know! but it would be so cool if he can do that, don't you think?"

"the only thing i am thinking about now is getting out of here," you lightly growled under your breath as you glared at the azure-colored icicle.

archons. you could not be trapped in here for any longer. it was cold, the oxygen was probably draining and bennett never stops talking so he sucks the living hell out of the air, and there was no guarantee you two wouldn't be stuck here for the rest of your lives!

worst of all, you snap at people easily, especially when you were angry at them. whether it was misplaced anger or not, having bennett be near you right now could easily cause a misunderstanding with the words you could spill out of you. you would not mean them, but they could still hurt his feelings, and you did not want to hurt his feelings.

bad luck and badly-timed optimism aside, bennett was the single most selfless person you have ever met.

he still had it in his head to reach out for you in mid-air and use his body as a shield during the fall, for archon's sake. you could count with less than half of your fingers the number of people who would do that voluntarily.

blowing air out of your mouth and sucking back in deeply, trying to breathe properly due to the cold climate freezing up your insides, you turned to look at bennett and he tilted his head at your stare.

"what is it?"

"couldn't you do that swirly thing with your fire?"

he widened his eyes. "oh, you mean my vision?"

"if that is what it's called, sure?"

he pursed his lips together then. that would be the easy way out, of course, but he hasn't thought about it because of how much his body was aching from everything that had happened.

he was sure the soreness around his shoulders and back, which came flooding to him like punches after he took your fall for you, would only amplify with the heat. not to mention the other wounds around his body from the additional mishaps and fights.

he had his fair share of accidents and pain before, and his endurance was built up well, but he would prefer not to take it if he didn't have to.

"i... uh..."

his eyes shifted away from the icicle to you. amid his reluctance, he watched the way you winced at the cold. all he did was watch you flinch and shudder, at the cold and the monsters you two continuously alert.

he remembered you weren't supposed to be here, that you were only here because he asked if you wanted to join him on an adventure to dragonspine of all places, that you were only here because disasters loved him too much.

but he had been so happy when you agreed to join him, happy and accepted like he hasn't been in a long time, like having a new friend to play with, like he finally found someone who wasn't afraid of what he could bring.

the least he could do for you was to try and help, he thought, even if it hurts.

"move aside."

he stepped forward, his brows narrowing in concentration. you did as he told you, your hands clutched together before you as you watched the slight redness of heat emerge from his feet. he brought out his weapon as it traveled up his legs to his torso, spreading to his hands, and suddenly—a quick jump in the air, fire burst through his body and covered his blade, and a loud clank could be heard against the icicle.

the icicle was, unfortunately, not broken, but your concentration was diverted to bennett instead of the result of his action. 

he was panting heavily, in a way as if he had just run a mile under a mere minute. his back was hunched so he could support himself by leaning against his knees, attempting to catch his breath and ease the numbing pain of conflicting fire with cooled skin. and, most horrifically, the wound on his left forearm has re-opened from the movement and was bleeding. 

“well, that–” he huffed with a soft smile, “–that did not work at all!”

“bennett–bandages, let’s get you some bandages.” 

you moved over to him quickly and urged him to sit down near the icicle. you knelt next to him, your face falling quicker into despair when you realized none of you bought sufficient supplies for such an injury. everything was in klee’s backpack with her bombs, and razor was the one who offered to hold the bag so klee could move around easier. 

bennett wanted to speak up.

watching you fumble with a concerned expression completely contradicted the reason behind him straining himself to use his vision. he did that to soothe you, not to make you worry even more! but, before he could open his mouth to speak, his face pinked with an immeasurable heat—hotter than fire—when he saw that you had proceeded to rip the hem of your shirt apart.

you wrapped the fabric around his forearm, hoping it would stop the bleeding for now, or at least keep him from injuring it even more. unbeknownst to you, bennett had turned his head and shut his eyes tight so the exposed part of your tummy would be out of his plain sight. his hand gently shook, not from the wound but the touch of your much more delicate hands.

“bennett.”

“i–i–i’m not looking, i swear!”

you furrowed your brows and glanced down at yourself. you held back a laugh; you were barely exposed, it was just the side of your waist, that was all. but his politeness was welcomed, nonetheless.

“i am going to lean on you, is that okay?” you asked then, sitting down on the ground and shifting into a position where you were close enough to him to make him flush even more. “you’re warm.”

“i–i think it’s the fire,” he squeaked, his hands curled into awkward fists that he propped on his knees awkwardly. he nodded to himself, feeling his heartbeat increase. "it's the fire... yeah..."

you smiled to yourself. this might be the first time you thought bennett was cute. if only the circumstance was less staggering and unideal.

“thank you for saving me back there,” you muttered. “i could have died if you hadn’t caught me.”

“ah! that! haha!” he blinked to keep his thoughts somewhere other than the proximity. “i have fallen too many times to let a little slip off a cliff end me!”

you didn't respond. the heat radiating off his body was so satisfying that all you could do was drown yourself in the warmth. sensing your silence, bennett snapped himself out of his shy rage and glanced down at you, and he softened significantly when he saw you huddled up next to his side trying to scrape as much of his body heat as possible.

silently (for the first time in a while), and timidly (also for the first time in a while), he moved his arm around your shoulder and brought you closer to his side.

the blush on his cheeks was furious, the shy boy within him jumping up and down in a frenzy, but he still kept you close for the warmth and stayed silent to let you rest.

and he hoped that the next time he goes on an adventure, you would be willing to tag along again.