#as per usual for daniel

[mockingbirdshymn]

way too many camp camp headcanons? why not

part eight: daniel

disclaimer: daniel is a cool villain. that i will say. however i dont like him as a character and i am not justifying the fact he has attempted to murder children like 4 times now. once was successful (his old summer camp). im not justifying cults or their behaviors, nor the murder of children or anyone in general, cults are fucked up. i'm just headcanoning a fictional villain and his fictional cult. this isnt to make light of real life cults and the tragedies that go on inside them. my headcanons are to expand on established canon and make the characters more fleshed out in the way i see them. i wish i didnt have to say this but once i got chewed out for saying daniel was my favorite villain so you know

TW: ANIMAL DEATH/SACRIFICING, SPECIFICALLY THAT OF A DOG, DEATH, DEATH OF CHILDREN, POISONING, CULTS, TYPICAL DANIEL STUFF

daniel was born and raised in the cult of zemoog (is that how you spell it??????????????? i forgot) and genuinely believes it as reality, if you couldnt tell. he isnt a cult leader but rather an ordinary cultist sent out on a 'mission' to make zemoog proud and indoctrinate others.

the cult of zemoog has rankings. the eye is the cult leader, the mind are the cultists allowed to live with the mission of indoctrinating others into the cult and eventually allowing them to 'ascend', and the heart are the 'basic' cultists that drink the kool-aid and die without any further purpose other than to please zemoog

the cult of zemoog focuses on indoctrinating children rather than adults (though they do indoctrinate adults from time to time) because children are more impressionable, and they "feel children are more pure of heart and easier to bring to salvation"

i like to hc that daniel, jasper, gwen, and david were all friends as kids, and i have an au where they grow up as friends. in this au, daniel leaves the cult because one of the main reasons people believe in the cults are because they have no external support system, thus causing them to rely only on the cult. in canon (even with the hc as childhood friends), daniel is still fucked up. i just like giving villains interesting backstory relationships with characters we know. i also like to think that in canon with this hc, daniel recognizes david and gwen, but they don't recognize daniel. after all, he looks terrifyingly different, what with the creepy stare and smile, the pure white outfit, the bleached hair.

daniel as a kid had dirty blonde hair, a bit lighter than jasper's! he bleached it to become "more pure" in the eyes of zemoog

daniel is too far gone as an adult to awknowldge that zemoog isnt real, no matter what proof hes shown.

daniel freezes to death in antartica. since ghosts are established to exist in camp camp as well as an afterlife, daniel has a mental fucking breakdown because everything he believed his entire life never came true like he was promised. as a ghost, he believes the only reason he hasnt seen zemoog is because he failed him by not building the temple in antartica. he will spend the rest of his afterlife crumbling and desperately trying to please zemoog to no avail.

daniel had a dog, once, as a kid. a pomeranian. eventually, he had to sacrifice it, for zemoog did not approve of earthly attachments.

daniel was seperated from his parents at a young age for the same reason- a disapproval of earthly attachments.

once when daniel was younger, he tried to run away from the cult after he was punished for doing something or other wrong. he failed to escape and was forced to repent.

the cult of zemoog does not approve of love (again, it is an earthly attachment). daniel was never allowed to feel anything as a kid, not familial love, platonic love, romantic love, any of it. he grew up like that, and eventually, he viewed any sort of attachment as weak. it's why he perceved david as weak. he loved everything far too much to defeat daniel, surely. but it was the attachment david held over his campers, over life, that allowed him to beat daniel. if only daniel were able to see it instead of convincing himself it was nothing more than dumb luck.

in the cult, every winter, the children would be forced to fight each other to see who was worthy of continuing to live and spread zemoogs word, and who was to be sacrificed. at the age of 18, daniel had claimed 10 lives. at 24 (his age during camp cult), he'd claimed 27.

under everything about daniel, there is a sadness. he preaches about the cult being able to make you happy, take all your worries away, but there is a void in daniel's heart that he'll never be able to fill. so much was taken from him, and he was only taught to take from others the same way. he has never been happy, and never will, not truly.

in his early life, daniel was haunted by the ghosts of children who he watched be sacrificed. as an adult, he was haunted by those he'd killed. purple guy type shit

thats it for the insane fucking cultist wooo

[fahatesyou]

I almost didn’t ask for this because it wasn’t anonymous haha but I left my anxiety behind now.

It would be great to read about Jealous Maxy or how does he react to Danny and George “getting friendly”

Hope you doing okay, love your writing :)

No smut but a/b/o. It takes a lot of balls to be off anon, so I'm really sorry this took a hundred years. I've been trough a rough patch but I'm trying to get back on track.

I hope it's not too late, suki! 💜

George wears the merch as a joke. 

It's funny.

Daniel is sure because the media runs with it; the fans think it's cute and cheeky. Everyone knows Russell has a girlfriend; a petite omega girl with no tattoos or scruffy beard. A young girl, George's age, nice and pretty that wears dresses and doesn't race for a living. Just like most of the alphas on the grid have at home, patiently waiting for them back in Monaco or cheering from their garages.

Still, it feels nice. 

Thanks to it Daniel gets a break from the Piastri questions and the contract talks. He can gush and joke around for a bit, let people compliment him on the merch, say good things about him for a change. 

It's mostly nice until it's not. 

"Mercedes really did a number on George, mate. Such a clown this season." 

Daniel hears it going through the garage, and then catches the laughing that comes afterwards, the smell of alphas gathering around, their familiar voices and musk. 

He feels stupid. 

The warm fuzzy feeling long gone. It's replaced by the anguish of having to recall the looks he had gotten all morning, going through them in his mind to find any trace of mockery or pity. Trying to find the missing pieces of how he got it all wrong. 

"What happened?" 

It takes him a second to realize Max is talking to him. Nowadays, Daniel feels like he's far away from him, he won't admit it, not even to Michael, but it's like Daniel is a rookie all over again.

He's not winning, he's no longer a secured driver with an uper hand to fuck around with. He's still Daniel Ricciardo, but that's pretty much it. And apparently, no longer enough. 

"Daniel," Max repeats in that croaky voice he makes when he's frustrated. "What happened?" 

He's frowning; the driver's meeting is media free and Daniel's so thankful. If Max caught something just by looking at him, it must be written all over his face. Max doesn't really look at Daniel anymore, doesn't have a real reason to.

"Nothing," Daniel brushes him off, taking off his cap to fix his hair and putting it on again, trying his best not to look at Max in the eye.

Max smells weird, and Daniel's nose gets itchy from it. It's so strong and deep that it gets kind of overwhelming for a second. Daniel takes a deep breath to get his shit together, but it only makes it worse, getting Max's frustration on his tongue and mouth, tasting the bitterness of it.

Max isn't wearing any blockers, which is not new, but still annoying. Daniel's been alone for a while, maybe too long. He knows his body and can feel himself react to Max's worry, a deep instinct growing inside him from the old memories his body holds tight. He's been working on letting those go. The most difficult part comes when he's by himself during the breaks; toys not good enough, not big enough, when he's too desperate and lonely he just wants to reach for his phone and say sorry for something he doesn't have to. When his body craves the press of Max's knot and the smell of his cum on Daniel's skin.

He needs to get away from Max before he makes a fool of himself again. 

Daniel cranes his neck in search of an escape boat but Lando is on the other side of the room, happily sandwiched between two red-dressed bodies; there's not really anywhere to hide, and it's obvious that Max just won't let him go. 

"All good, guys?" George asks, gently nudging Daniel's shoulder as he smiles at him, creeping from nowhere to fill the space between Max and Daniel.

He's saved by the bell.

George looks unaware of Max's corrosive frustration, unfazed as he massages Daniel's shoulder muscle with his thumb and gives him a friendly huff right over his ear. 

"Yeah, all good, mate," Daniel says, right over the edge, a chukle full of gratitude and relief.

George's hand is warm and firm over him. He smells like the fancy alpha cologne that Lewis wears. It's some kind of expensive costume-made scented blockers that the Mercedes's alphas get from Tommy H. It's posh and flashy but Daniel has good memories of it, of Lewis winning Championship ship after Championship as Daniel grew into his own confident self. Nostalgia maybe, but Daniel can't stop himself  from getting a hungry whiff of it. 

Max makes a noise that gets Daniel to snap back from the cloud of Russell's fake pheromones. Max's gaze burns through Daniel's skin and he tries his hardest to subtlety step away from the touch, his inner omega deeply worried of causing any confrontation.

They haven't been together for almost two years, Daniel says in his head, catching himself mid step, he doesn't own Max shit.

When Daniel left Renault and Max finally grew out of his puppy body, he had wanted to officially mate with Daniel.

He was no longer a young alpha boy, and he had grown needs that Daniel wasn't ready to fill yet. They never really broke up, because they weren't a couple to begin with. But after turning Max down and refusing to tie himself to the alpha with a mark on his neck for the whole world to see, Max left Monaco and spent his winter break in Ibiza. 

It's a small world, and Monaco is even a smaller country.

The message was pretty clear, and from hundred of miles away Daniel called his manager and they sold his old and unused aparment for a bigger one away from the sea. Away from Max.

They didn't call each other, Max didn't send flowers for Daniel's sister birthday. Daniel didn't bought Max's cats silly costumes that they wouldn't really wear but still made Max laugh when Daniel showed him.

Then Max started fucking omega after omega for all F1 to know. 

So that was the end of it. 

When Daniel looks up, he's faced with Max's blue eyes glaring at George's hold on him and the tight line of his mouth.

George messes with Daniel's hat making it point sideways and chuckling after Daniel blushes when George fixes it back, rubbing the corner of it and whispering a soft, "Cute."

It's the sour and putrid smell of rage what gets Daniel's attention back on Max.

They are buffing, Daniel suddenly realizes. There's no way George can't smell it too, even the most uneducated beta could recognize the way Max's nostrils flare when George's hand squeezes Daniel's shoulder again. But Daniel doesn't have it in him to move anymore, it's almost too fucking much, he'll probably drop to his knees if one of them asks him to. 

His stomach revolts with anger. George is fucking with him just to try and make Max snap. It's so stupid and childish; two cocky alphas puffing their chests in front of an unmated omega, fighting to see who'll give up first. 

"You can sit with me then, don't think Lewis will mind," George offers, voice so sweet and friendly you'll forget he drives a Mercedes. 

They are just kids, Daniel says to himself. Looking for the bright side to dim his own anger. They are stupid young alphas, this is the shit they do. 

It's still a hard pill to swallow, even after so many years in the paddock it burns the same; to just have to play the game like a good omega should while they compete on who's knot is bigger right in front of Daniel. Using him like a shiny prize on a stand.

Before Daniel can get his head straight and find a way to end it gracefully, he hears Max growl. 

"Fuck off," Max snarls, yanking George's hand off Daniel's shoulder, pushing him away with a hard shove that George doesn't expect and almost causes him to trip over an empty chair. "I'm talking to Daniel, are you fucking blind or—" 

"You fuck off, idiot." George growls back, standing in front of Daniel again to block Max's hand with his body. The roaring coming out of Max's chest is so loud that Daniel has to get both of his hands over his ears to not whine.

"Hey!" Someone calls, followed by a distressed whine that Daniel is almost completely sure didn't come from him. "Don't do this shit here, have some fucking respect for the omegas." 

Daniel opens his eyes slowly to find Alonso holding both alphas by their shirts, shaking them like two reprimanded dogs. George raises both hands in surrender, and Fernando let's him go, George frowns as he starts to brush off over the creases Alonso left on his polo shirt.

"He's the one being an asshole. I was talking with Daniel and he started growling at me like an idiot."  He complains, moving away from the confrontation.

"Fuck you," Max yells, not caring about Alonso's firm grip that tugs him back each time he tries to step closer to George, both of his hands a pair of tight fits and looking like a maniac. "I've told you a million times to get the fuck away from my—" 

Daniel almost drops to his fucking knees.

"Verstappen." Alonso cuts him off, pushing Max hard against the wall. "Get your shit under control, kid. You're making a fool out of yourself." 

Daniel feels like he's burning alive, hears a ring on both of his ears going off, the room starts getting smaller and smaller.

He hears a loud noise and then the flash of Lando's body being dragged out by Carlos’s possessive hold. George holds the door open for them and walks to the end of the room to stand next to Lewis, who gives him a stern look.

"Max" Alonso says again, struggling to keep Max against the wall as Max tries his hardest to push Fernando away to get his hands on George. "Max, calm the fuck down." Alonso grunts, his whole body covering Max's as he grips his wrists and snarls at him in annoyance. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Dejad de hacer el puto ridículo, tío. Joder." 

The FIA people won't take long to get here, and if they do then the whole paddock will know all about this by noon. Most of the guys keep their distance, but Max fights Alonso's hold and he almost slips away, it sets off the rest of the alphas in the room and they stand up from the seats, no longer faking to not notice what's going on. Sebastian and Pierre go to Alonso's rescue, and after some minor struggling, they have Max pinned down on the floor.  

"Daniel, I think you should go." Lewis says.

They are all looking at him. 

"No." Max whines, head raising as he gives Daniel a desperate look. "Daniel." He calls for him, making Daniel's knees go weak. He takes a step closer, wanting to give Max whatever he wants. Ready to do anything for him. 

"Daniel, leave now." Lewis orders him this time, raising his voice and pointing at the door.

Max growls something harsh in Dutch and somehow manages to push half his body up before quickly getting ganged up by George and Lewis, firmly held still.

His face is plastered against the floor, and his nostrils flare as he huffs and curses them all out, calling for Daniel again and again and making Daniel's omega instincts go off. 

"Call fucking Horner," Alonso yells to a very scared Yuki hiding in a corner. 

Max's smells so frustrated and worried at the same time that Daniel just wants to hold him for a bit, tell them to get the fuck off him and just let Max breath for a second.

His body practically moves on his own as he tries to reach for Max's hair, and the sound that comes out of Max's mouth when he sees Daniel approach makes the hard slap he gets worth it.

Charles shoves him hard and pushes him towards the door, his wild eyes looking at Daniel like he's gone crazy.

"Get Red Bull right fuckin now!," Alonso shouts desperate as Max growls, a ripping sound fills the room followed by Pierre's hurt grunt and a loud gasp of fear. "this fucking kid is going into rut!." 

[thisismeracing]

who's up for thots?

[wendingus]

Stayed up late doodling a Wild West Lonely Broadcast Spinoff. It's so dumb.

I like to think that Dan has a telepathic connection with his shitty bird instead of using hearing aids. Which is very unfortunate for Evelyn because she can't whisper -anything- without Bartholomew going "hold up, I'm gonna tell dad, brb"

Evelyn's eye will tell you the future if you look into it, but will also immediately make you shit your pants, so no one ever asks to see it. Dan saw it once. He saw a vision of himself stubbing his toe ten minutes later.

I like that Finn's design has been mostly up to interpretation but I didn't wanna leave him out, so he just sorta looks like a Rough Dude. I like his nose though. He was a week away from cowboy retirement before these bad hombres showed up.

[trent-crimm]

Hannah being invited by Red Bull is my villain origin story.

(I KID SHE’S THERE AAAAAAAA)

[dear-old-sputniks-friend]

I'd like to announce that I am going on a hunger strike until rian Johnson himself sends me an email telling me Pedro Pascal will be in the next knives out movie

[queenlyfae]

Guys

I accidentally

✨fucked around and found out✨

But in all seriousness what do y’all think of a fic starring this idiot

And also this one?

And possibly a guest appearance from this idiot as well?

The first chapter is on AO3 right now has been for months I’m not joking

[phantangled]

daaaaan <3

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader[4.3K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+

SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE

LESSON #2

[Six Months Before]

Steve Harrington was standing in Tammy Thompson’s backyard, bumping his knuckles against Eddie’s as the boy approached with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand.

Eddie had dragged you out, brown eyes pleading as per, promising he’d score big at this party and he’d definitely buy you a burger and shake with his takings on the way home. Midnight, he’d said, swear it, he’d said. But the clock in Tammy’s moms kitchen was ticking towards one o’clock and when Eddie spotted Steve - and Jonathan Byers - out by the pool, you’d made the decision to hang back.

They were too close to the water, the lagoon shaped pool lit up in the night by an underwater glow, yellow-white spotlights that made sure you could see just how deep it was. There were some girls hanging close by, dresses and skirts rucked up their thighs and their shoes long lost as they dipped their legs into the bright blue water, pink lips around cherry vodka bottles and their eyes on the boys - a potential ride home in more ways than one.

“M’not gonna let you just fall into the pool,” Eddie had frowned when you’d told him you’d wait inside. “Who even does that anyway? You’re not wasted enough for that sweetheart.”

And you weren’t. Barely tipsy, actually. 

But the pool took up most of the patio space and other people were drunk, stumbling around the yard and trying to dance to the music that came from the open kitchen door. The water was too much, too deep, too blue, too dark.

And Steve Harrington was too pretty and intimidating - but you didn’t tell Eddie that part.

Jonathan spotted you over Eddie’s shoulder and waved, smiling kindly before he said something that made Eddie’s eyes light up with excitement. And that was okay because Jonathan was quiet and sweet and always polite to you, commenting on the books he’d see you reading when he passed you in town and sometimes he’d bump into you during Eddie’s hellfire meetings, passing as he picked up his little brother.

Steve, you didn’t see as much. Only from afar, usually. He was quieter than he’d been in high school, crownless and a little softer around the edges than when you sat two rows behind him in Mrs Click’s class. But Robin had a lot of things to say about him, gentle ribbing that was always wrapped in a fondness anyone with eyes could see and for a while, you thought that maybe they were a thing until Robin had vehemently told you that they were everything but.

Platonic with a capital P, she’d told you, popping the last letter and hiding the burn in her cheeks. 

But still, you knew he gave her rides to work before he drove himself to the pool, acting oblivious and almost uncomfortable when the hoards of freshman girls made a point to pick the loungers closest to the lifeguard tower. 

Not that you’d ever seen such a thing. But Robin liked to poke fun and Eddie was a bigger gossip than the cheerleader he used to date during his sophomore year. 

So really, you had once mused, there wasn’t really any reason to be so avoidant of Steve Harrington now. Except, once you finally admitted to yourself you had an awfully bad crush on him, that was excuse enough. He would nod and smile politely at you when he ran into you and Eddie around town, at the mall, in the crowds at parties. And on good days, you’d smile back, lips thin and tight in an overly polite grimace of some sort but neither of you attempted to make conversation with each other. Any awkward silences were filled by your mutual friend, Eddie talking loudly and animatedly about whatever topic came to mind, his curls and his laugh both big enough to patch over any uncomfortable silences.

So when a few minutes passed with you staring into your drink, watching the ice cubes melt into whatever concoction Eddie had handed you, you didn’t expect Steve to appear beside you. He was busying himself with the stack of beers on the kitchen counter beside you, but he cleared his throat all the same, unsure about it as he gained your attention. But he was looking at you, purposeful, as if his elbow softly knocking yours wasn’t an accident. 

His gaze was still holding yours as he popped the cap off of a bottle of bud light lime, the cap hitting the floor. You blinked at him, eyes only straying for a second to see that Eddie was still out by the pool talking to Johnathan and some other guy you didn’t know. Brows furrowed, you turned back, lips parting to ask if everything was okay, because why else would Steve Harrington be looking at you. 

But then he was talking, smiling sweet and kind and holding a little of that confidence you knew back in school. It was still there, that self assurance that he had years ago, but it was muted, a boldness that wasn’t quite dimmed but definitely softened. It made him seem even more intimidating, prettier with his messier hair and scruff along his jaw, his clothes less tight and pressed. 

“You doin’ okay?” 

You blinked again, wondering if he really was talking to you. But there was no one else around and you gripped your cup a little tighter, nodding before you could make a fool of yourself. “Me? Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve shrugged, smiling as he took a sip from his beer and he gestured out to the patio, to the pool and to Eddie who was grinning at you. “Just wondered why you weren’t coming out, that’s all. You’re normally glued to Munson.”

You scrunched your nose, cheeks warming because he wasn’t wrong, but the reminder of how close you usually stuck to Eddie made you feel younger, childlike. 

“It’s not like… that,” you explained, although you weren’t sure why you were bothering. “Us. Eddie and I- it’s not like we’re together, or anything.” You immediately regretted your words, the explanation feeling thick and clumsy on your tongue and your neck was burning, heat creeping up along your jaw.

Steve was still smiling, grin hid behind his beer and his brows were raised. He looked amused, nodding as you stumbled around each word and when you frowned, gulping down your watery cranberry and vodka, he grinned wider. “Yeah, no-- I know,” Steve assured you. He shrugged, “still, thanks for the clarification. S’good to know.”

You never found out what he meant by that, if he was being funny or just friendly, if he was flirting and genuinely interested. A neighbour called the cops and Eddie grabbed you before they could come through the front door, boosting you up by the foot so you could both scramble over the back fence. Steve had left with Jonathan and his girlfriend Nancy, the three of them running to Steve’s car just as Chief Hopper started yelling at the drunk kids left behind and you hadn’t so much as glanced back at each other for fear of being dragged home in the back of a cop car. 

The next time you’d spent any real time with Steve Harrington, well. You’d been sinking to the bottom of the lake.  

You were standing by the closed gate of the community pool at seven am sharp, the obnoxiously large lock stopping you from entering - despite the rip in the chain link fence to your right. 

You weren’t waiting long, even though you would’ve happily stayed on the other side of the lot for as long as required. The air was already warming, the scent of chlorine and leftover sunscreen surrounding you, mixing with the sound of the cicadas, the early morning sprinklers from the houses across the road. Then Steve was jogging towards you, one big hand clutching a rolled up towel and a set of keys and his cheeks were pink from his efforts, his sliders slapping on the concrete and he looked apologetic as he approached. 

“M’really sorry, car had a flat,” he huffed. “Would’ve left earlier if I knew I was walking.”

It was harder to look him in the eye after last week. Once the initial fear that had a vice grip on you loosened - if only slightly - it was easier to become so aware of how close you’d been to Steve. A whole morning spent half clothed and wet, his hands on you at all times, gentle and guiding as he coaxed you to walk around the shallow end of the pool. He’d been nothing but a gentleman about it, professional at all times with his hands either in yours or bracing your arms, never straying anywhere they shouldn’t, even if you’d caught his eyes going just that, maybe once or twice. 

You pulled at the collar of your t-shirt as Steve busied himself with the padlock, the air so much stickier now that he was close by. “It’s okay,” you told him. “I’m not in a rush.”

Steve snorted and it shouldn’t have been an attractive sound as it was. His eyes crinkled in amusement, mirth in them as he glanced down at you from under his lashes. He still looked soft from bed, hair mussed and a five o’clock shadow across his jaw that suited him too well. His lifeguard shirt was sunbleached and threadbare, the red shorts he wore smaller than his last pair, the material well above his knees. He was more sunkissed than last weekend, freckles on the bridge of his nose, cheeks stained a permanent blush. 

“Was your first lesson that bad?” He asked.

You burned, not knowing what to say, not wanting to offend him, not when he was looking at you like that. 

“No,” you squirmed. The lock was open now but neither of you moved. “I mean, yeah, but not— not as bad as I thought. It was okay.”

Steve  grinned like he knew something you didn’t, nodding slowly as he held the gate for you. “It was okay,” he repeated back, “I’ll take it.”

The pool was as blue and as intimidating as the first week, the generator humming and the filter trickling softly as you walked around it, giving the edge a wide berth. If Steve saw you frown and the dark blue depths, he didn’t say anything. Instead, you both dropped your towels and bags on a lounger and the boy didn’t so much as blush as he stripped off his shirt, throwing it alongside everything else. 

“You wanna get changed?” He asked, already busying himself with pulling some floats out of a shelving unit. “I’ll get everything sorted and you can—”

You were stripping off your own shirt before Steve could finish his sentence, the words getting stuck in his throat as you revealed the same old black swimsuit underneath your clothes. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen already, but you couldn’t help but feel flustered as you popped the button of your shorts, the denim dragging down your hips. You didn’t look at him as they slid off your legs, your feet clumsy as you tried to toe off your sneakers and step out of your shorts all at once. 

Steve was pink, even if you didn’t see it, his whole body turning from you abruptly as he decided what else he might need to take from storage. A pool noodle fell to the floor as you bundled up your clothes and chucked them onto the chair, both of you decidedly not looking at each. 

“Uh, right.” Steve dragged a hand through his hair, the soft ends immediately falling back across his forehead. He looked like he’d already caught most of the morning’s sun as he finally glanced at you, the tips of his ears a little pink. “Let's get started.”

—————

Your arms were crossed over your chest as you stood waist deep in the pool, partly for a little cleavage cover, mostly because you were cold. Your skin had prickled as you entered the water the same way as last time, step by step into the shallows, with Steve by your side. He didn’t hold your hands, but one of his hovered by your elbow the whole way down, ready to catch you if you stumbled, if you felt less than brave. 

He murmured soft encouragement the whole way down, a new praise falling from his lips at each stair and when you made it onto the pool floor, he’d grinned. 

“Look at you go, we’ll have you swimming lengths in no time.”

You couldn’t work out if he was joking or not, and the idea of going to the other end of the pool was enough to make your stomach churn, the lucky charms you’d shovelled into your mouth before leaving turning acidic. Still, you grinned - grimaced, maybe - and made a strange noise at the back of your throat. Steve thought it was supposed to be a laugh. 

“Ha— yeah, sure, maybe in a while.”

So Steve just smiled and left it at that. Then he was wading a little deeper, the water moving from his upper thighs and soaking his shorts, the cherry red turning scarlet, a deeper colour that you couldn’t help but stare at and then the pool swallowed his lower body, the ripples catching around his hip bones. 

He was facing you as he moved, arms out and hands coaxing, encouraging you to follow and when he saw the look of panic in your face, he stopped walking. “Hey, hey,” his voice was soft, just like the morning. It was all hazy skies, a blue-lavender fuzz and the trickle of water, the smell of chlorine and sunscreen and Steve Harrington’s wide, brown eyes. “Look, yeah? We’re not going any deeper than this, I promise. ‘N I’m right here.”

You remembered how you told him you trusted him, just seven days ago. How he’d told you in return that he’d come get you, just like he had before. It felt rude to question the man who’d once saved your life but still, you hesitated, arms still curled around your chest like you could anchor yourself to that spot. 

But then Steve held out his hand, palm up and resting on top of the surface. The blue of the pool made his skin look even more tanned, sunkissed and glittering with droplets of water, beads of it sliding off of his forearm, pooling in the middle of his hand. He wiggled his fingers at you. 

You didn’t even know you were reaching out to him until his hand curled around yours, bigger and wider and warmer despite the way you were still adjusting to the colder temperature. The sticky heat of the morning air didn’t do much for the large pool, the water still nipping at your skin as you moved through it. 

“There you go,” Steve praised, smiling wide and earnest as you took a step. “There she is, ladies and gents, Hawkins next high diver—”

You scoffed, eyes rolling and cheeks sore when you grinned, unable to help it. But you were still moving, baby steps towards Steve and the gasp that left your lips as the water crept up towards the line of your belly button was due more to the cold than the depth. 

Steve held your hand tightly, a solid grip, your own kind of anchor. 

“Alright, see?” He was beaming, eyes squinting through the rays of the sun that bounced off the surface and he was too pretty with it, painted in the reflections of the ripples and stripes of rainbow. “You did it, you’re killing this.”

You didn’t point out that you hadn’t technically done any real swimming yet, but the fact you were standing further into the pool than you were seven days ago felt momentous. Eddie had spent countless summers trying to even coax you inside the property line, sunscreen smeared on his nose and pleading in his eyes. 

“You still trust me?” Steve asked, eyes bright and earnest and god, it was impossible to say no. So you nodded, throat feeling a little thick and the words lost behind your teeth but you did and you meant it. And that only made Steve smile wider. “Good. We’re gonna practice floating, okay?”

The idea of it made your chest feel heavy, a sure fire sign that it wasn’t going to go as well as Steve had planned. Letting the water take control of your weight seemed impossible and the task of taking your feet off of the solid tiles at the bottom of the pool was nightmare inducing. But Steve was moving closer, his hand still in yours and his free one grazing your spine. His fingertips skimmed over your back, guiding you in front of him and turning you to the side as he spoke the whole time. 

“It’s easy, right?” He explained, your shoulder brushing his bare chest and you tried not to think about it all too much, tried not to panic despite the way your heart was thundering so hard it was a wonder Steve couldn’t hear your ribs rattle and crack. “M’gonna help, I won’t let you go, I promise. You just gotta let yourself lie back, just a little. I’ll help you do the rest.”

You laughed at him, his words, his positivity that was brighter and warmer than the whole of June and July. It was a gasping, mocking thing, a laugh that got stuck in your throat and the mere suggestion of letting your body fall backwards into the pool was enough to make your eyes dart for the safety of the stairs. 

“I— I can’t. I can’t do that,” you told him, eyes wide and head shaking furiously. “That’s just— no. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Maybe you tried to move away, to take a step towards the shallow edge of the pool, or maybe you only imagined you did. Because Steve’s hand was flat against the curve of your back and his palm nearly took up the whole god damn space there. His fingers curled around your own, his thumb running over the bumps of your knuckles. Steve bent a little, knees folding under the water to bring his face down level with your own and he looked so serious when he said: 

“Hey, listen, alright? I know it’s scary. But I promise you, I won’t let you go. You’re not going to go under.” He licked his lips, eyes searching yours for signs of panic, fear, flight. “I won’t let you go under the water, I swear.”

So you stayed, rooted to the spot but there nonetheless. And with a jerky nod, Steve’s hand squeezed your own and he moved into you. You felt his knees bump under your thighs, rough with coarse hair and lined with more muscle than you had, his hips bumping against the side of you. Suddenly the water didn’t feel as cold as before, the sharp chill of it gone. 

“I just want your to bend your legs, okay? Just a little and then let your feet come up. M’gonna support your back. And remember, you can stand here, yeah? S’not deep, you can stand right back up.”

You mumbled something, confirmation maybe, a curse perhaps, aimed at Steve or Eddie, you weren’t sure. You about your friend who was probably still in his bed, face down and oblivious to the situation he’d once again coaxed you into. But you also remembered how he’d been knee deep in the lake as Steve pulled you out, eyes wide and terrified as he prepared to throw himself into the black water to find you too. 

You lifted one foot, a mere stretch onto your toes, really, but Steve hummed in approval and his hand pressed into your back a little more, a silent promise that he was still there to catch you. 

One foot came off of the pool floor. 

“Thatta’ girl,” Steve whispered and he was close. So close, close enough for the words to feel warm against your temple and you could feel his gaze on the side of your face, watching, waiting. “I’ve got you.”

Another foot came off the tiles. 

You dipped, just a little, just for a second, your shoulders submerging and a shocked gasp ripping from the back of your throat before Steve’s hand on your back was pushing you upwards. You tried to fight it, legs kicking awkwardly until Steve was pushing you again, upupup, and your body broke out of the water, shoulders and back and butt flat against the top of the surface. 

“Keep your legs out straight,” Steve instructed, “let me take your weight, breathe in and out, keep calm.”

It all seemed too much to do at once. 

Your hand was a vice grip around Steve’s, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was watching you, gaze studious and gentle, nodding almost to himself as you tried to do as he told you. Your legs straightened out and stopped kicking, the warm air kissing your shins above the water, your chest shuddering as you sucked in a breath. 

“Uhuh, that’s it. Now just lie back for me, s’alright, I’ve got all of you.”

You choked out a laugh, a cynical sound and Steve’s eyes found yours. You were shaking slightly as you tried to relax, trying to drop your shoulders back into the water. “All of me? You been hitting the gym, Harrington?”

The joke was weak sounding, especially when your lip wobbled too but Steve grinned all the same. The hand on your back moved down a little, settling in the curve there, just above your ass. 

“Thanks for noticing,” he replied softly, a teasing lilt to his voice, a smirk in his smile. “Eddie never compliments me.”

You laughed again, louder this time but just as harsh sounding as before. The water was filling your ears as you lay back, a cold rush to the back of your head and neck as you finally flattened yourself out. 

“What a shit friend,” you managed to choke back. 

Steve let go of your hand with a soft murmur of assurance, quickly placing it beside his other one, both palms supporting your frame. His touch was a delicate thing, the width of each hand encasing your back, keeping you afloat. He was the warmest thing in the water. 

“Right?” Steve whispered, afraid to break the quiet, the spell that you were under. Your eyes were wide and on the sky as you lay there, watching the blue and the pink coloured clouds that were making their way over town. “You’re gonna have to have words with him.”

You nodded before realising the movement made your chin dip, your balance wavering. Your arms that had been floating at your sides tried to claw at something, anything, for purchase but found none and fear seized at your chest again. 

“You’re okay,” Steve told you. “Another deep breath in— there you go. Now, keep your chest and tummy pushed out, okay? Keep it all above the surface, chin up, legs straight, you got it.”

And you did, kinda. The panic that made your chest tight loosened its grip as you let out the breath you’d been holding onto so fiercely. Your legs felt lighter once you stopped fighting the drag of them, your arms floating out to your sides, the back of your right hand brushing Steve’s stomach and you felt the muscles in his abdomen tense. But your eyes were fluttering, lashes blinking against your cheeks as you just let yourself be, your body floating, the cool water lapping at your neck, your face. 

Steve’s hands were sure and steady on your back, never leaving or faltering. In fact they steered you away from the wall and kept you pushed to the surface, gently guiding and encouraging. They made your body feel warmer than the water did, the sun on your front, a dry heat that shone over your face and chest, rainbow spots in your vision and his palms were just as hot under the water. 

He murmured nonsense as he let you balance on his fingertips, always encouraging and soft, pretty praises that made your toes curl into the pool and when he saw the way you trusted him, the way you let him hold you, he stopped talking altogether. 

It was just you and Steve and the water under the sun. 

Fingers danced a line along your spine, one set between your shoulder blades, the other holding you up from the small of your back and it was a shockingly intimate touch, especially when his skin found your own between the straps of your bathing suit. 

Something told you that it would be a bad idea to open your eyes, but Eddie told you bad ideas had good outcomes all of the time. So you did just that, blinking against the sun that was rising as the morning moved on, the sky turning bluer and brighter, but not nearly as warm as Steve’s gaze. 

He was looking down at you, his knees still bent and the water lapping at his chest, his face much closer than you realised. He was smiling, a soft thing that made your heart thunder loud enough to travel through the water, a steady drumbeat in your ears. And when the boy realised you were looking too, his cheeks turned that pretty pink colour, a cotton candy blush that you couldn’t help but stare at and he nodded, clearing his throat before he spoke. 

“You’re doin’ great.”

The water filter trickled somewhere in the background, the sound of someone’s car door slamming in the distance. Apart from that, it was just Steve’s voice over your drum kit of a heart. It took a while for you to nod, water slipping over your chin and lips, tongue licking away chlorine. 

“I’ve got a really good teacher,” you replied. 

[f1version]

DATES WITH YOU ♥︎ F1 HEADCANONS

includes: charles, carlos, max, daniel, lando, oscar, lewis, george, alex, logan, pierre, yuki, lance, mick, and sebastian.

summary: f1 drivers’ and their favorite themed dates!

author’s note: happy valentine’s day my loves!! this is incredibly late (almost 15th where i am) but here it is <3

love on top, a vday special ♥︎ general masterlist

now playing ♫₊⊹ until i found you by stephen sanchez

★ CHARLES LECLERC ( 16 ) — Charles has a bucket list with dates. Enjoys planning them curled up in bed, talks about how you shouldn’t repeat one until the list is done—unless you are a Drive-in theater date, he loves them. When they're arranged in Monaco, it's usually for old romcoms and coming-of-age movies, which is perfect in both of your eyes. Charles makes sure to bring snacks, blankets and pillows, everything so you can be comfortable while cuddling him. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as the movie plays, dusk falling over you, looking as beautiful as ever. He loves this type of dates… it even gives him a chance to show off his magnificent car, but hey! that's off-topic.

★ CARLOS SAINZ JR. ( 55 ) — You and Carlos have a passion for trying new recipes, so sometimes, when you have everything you need, you decide to put on matching aprons, as well as toques, and start working on your next masterpiece. Usually, old Spanish songs play in the background, Carlos singing, grabbing you by the waist to distract you and dance a little. He loves days like these, your focused face and little scoldings are all he needs, especially because one way or another, you will end up laughing and dancing with him, sometimes full of flour and seasonings, the kitchen wearing its best perfume.

★ MAX VERSTAPPEN ( 1 ) — Max is always looking for ways to impress you, to catch you off guard and surprise you, he loves how you tease him about it. So that's why, when you go to one of your favorite places ever —the planetarium— as a date, he recollects as many details about the celestial objects as he can, waiting for your surprise when he drops a fact you didn't know he knew, starting a long, beautiful conversation about it. You know a lot more than him, but he's eager to learn, loves the way you explain every single thing to him, loves the way places like this brings you closer.

★ DANIEL RICCIARDO ( 3 ) — Daniel loves music, he spends hours on end with his headphones on, discovering new artists every day, sharing his songs, albums, and artists of the month with you, adding to his playlists your recommendations. So it's no surprise you find yourself going to multiple concerts. Dancing and singing, hugging and fangirling. Sometimes artists know Daniel and that's when you laugh the most because there's always a chance of him ending up on stage, singing to you (or trying to).

★ LANDO NORRIS ( 4 ) — Lando loves your creativity, he’s a fan of getting to know what's on your pretty mind and seeing your ideas come to life, he also loves sharing his own ideas with you, feels free doing so. His favorite dates with you consist of this: having a canvas, paper, or even pottery to paint on, gossiping and laughing for hours, having picnics and enjoying food. Lando would buy hundreds of utensils, wanting to try everything with you, forever. PD: He would have you paint him and his car, probably.

★ OSCAR PIASTRI ( 81 ) — It didn't start as a date per se, Oscar just couldn't sleep one night and you suggested building the Lego Star Wars ship in your closet, so you stayed up until 6 in the morning building it. He loves the tranquility it brings, how you can go from discussing the deepest topics to a comfortable silence. Focuses on the little things, like when your fingers brush his while reaching for a piece or that little celebration when you find another. In his apartment, he has a shelf dedicated to the Legos you've built together and photos to go with it. So, in Oscar's humble opinion, these are the best dates in the world.

★ LEWIS HAMILTON ( 44 ) — You and Lewis can live off two things: Roscoe and the beach. Surfing is something you have always bonded over, that's why you love heading to the beach early morning, going for a run with Roscoe, and then jumping to surf (taking Roscoe back inside first). You can stay out there for hours, challenging each other, improving your skills, and lying on your boards, talking about everything and nothing, loving every second of it.

★ GEORGE RUSSELL ( 63 ) — While experimenting with extreme sports would be a lovely date for George, he chooses to call his favorite something more domestic: comfy clothes, a good bottle of wine, and a long puzzle night ahead of you. He enjoys the challenging but relaxing parts of the activity, loves to strategize alongside you, and loses his focus when looking at you, falling deeper in love.

★ ALEX ALBON ( 23 ) — Playing Mario Kart as if your life depended on winning has always been part of your relationship — "It's our love language," Alex says— That's why you love to spend a large amount of time (and money) in arcades. You play against each other, with and without; also spend forty minutes trying to catch that one stuffed animal from the claw machine, cheering (and almost getting kicked out) when you get it. Alex loves it as much as he loves you.

★ LOGAN SARGEANT ( 2 ) — Logan fully believes that the best date in the history of dating are theme and amusement park dates. Whether it's a local funfair or the (in)famous Florida parks, Logan loves walking hand in hand, map and snacks in the other, trying to go on as many attractions as possible, calming the nerves of each other when necessary, laughing at the photos quickly taken on the rollercoasters (and going again to attempt looking good), and many other things that make this type of date his favorite.

★ PIERRE GASLY ( 10 ) — Pierre loves chaos and what's more chaotic than doing karaoke? Your catalog goes from High School Musical's "Gotta Go My Own Way" to Gaye and Terrell's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." Sometimes they end up drunk enough (from adrenaline, from love, or both) to sing French songs and attempt Celine Dion's highest notes. You can spend hours teasing each other, dancing to the rhythm, and sneaking kisses in between songs.

★ YUKI TSUNODA ( 22 ) — Contrary to popular belief, Yuki's favorite type of date isn't taking you to a restaurant or cooking together, because even though he does love doing those things with you, your trips to farmers markets are his favorite. When the season is right, you visit them hand-in-hand, no matter the country since there is nothing better than discovering new foods with your favorite person. And hey! If there is something to eat, why not mix dates?

★ LANCE STROLL ( 18 ) — No matter the weather or season, you and Lance will always be up for an ice cream date. You're on a quest to find the best flavors, and the fact that some dates end in small big disasters is enough to keep you searching together, chins full of ice cream and all.

★ MICK SCHUMACHER ( 47 ) — Two things about Mick: he really enjoys ice skating and he loves you. If you put them together, he's guaranteed to have the time of his life, so he's lucky you like ice skating as much as he does. You both spend hours on the rink, being careful not to fall while holding hands, yet most of the time it's Mick who ends up in the floor as you drown in laughter. He loves that sound. He loves making you laugh and smile, it's his favorite pastime, and seeing you shine on the ice rink makes him realize how much he adores this place.

★ SEBASTIAN VETTEL ( 5 ) — Seb’s favorite is going hiking and then camping with you in the beautiful Swiss mountains, away from the a much hectic side of life. Just you and him giving new meaning to the known, sharing not only the beauty of life but also the comfort of one another, wrapped around small info-dumps and timeless laughter. It’s therapeutic being so close to each other, so pure and loving. If you ask him, he would repeat this date a thousand times over.

[cherry-leclerc]

bye bye baby ☆ dr3

genre: angst

word count: 2.5k

inspired by this !

cherry here!... the req was to write about danny boy, but the concept of this was that i was feeling very dramatic, per usual, duh. wrote this today since i’ve had bye bye baby stuck on REPEAT. 2 posts in 1 day, YIKES. enjoy! :)

The ups and downs that take place in your relationship once Daniel is left without an F1 seat. 

“What do you mean you’re out?”

Furiously, Daniel unzips his fireproofs as he ties the sleeves around his waist. Rummaging through his duffel bag, he grows more and more impatient. Taking a cautious step forward, you hand him his water bottle. “Thanks,” he lowly mutters as he takes a long sip. He shakes his head as he looks blankly towards the white wall. “They want someone younger. More talented.”

“But you’re talented, Daniel! You’re better than anyone here!”

Letting out a weak smile, he angles himself lower to hug you before pulling away and brushing your hair behind your ear. “No, I don’t think I am anymore.”

That was 2 months ago when news came out that your boyfriend would no longer be driving for McLaren. It was a complete shock, considering everyone loved the bubbly Australian, but it honestly didn’t hurt anyone more than it did you. Often, he would remind you that he was the one left without a seat and that you should be glad you would both have some time to disconnect and be together. 

Shaking your head as you munch grumpily on a stack of pancakes, you say, “I love that you’re around - of course I do - but what they did to you was completely unfair. Who in their right mind expects good results for a shit car? That’s their fault, not yours.”

Walking around the kitchen island, he lets out a smile. “Relax, baby. I get it. You don’t want me around.” Narrowing your eyes, you fling a pair of gloves at his chest - from his recent addiction to dirtbiking. Don’t even, you warn. He lets out a sigh as he opens his mouth for you to pop in a bite. Digging your fork on a piece of pancake, you raise your arm up to feed him. He hums at the taste. “I was kidding, but seriously - it’s okay. I’ll get over it. You should, too.”

As much as he said he was doing fine, you knew something wasn’t right. He was hurt; felt betrayed and it did him no good to keep rejecting his feelings. But you didn’t bring up the topic anymore. You knew he didn’t like the reminder of what once was.

-

Dirt crunches underneath your boots as you walk up to him and Scotty. The Australians are hunched over, trying their best to fix their bikes as they share a bottle of cheap beer underneath the blazing sun. The 29 year old spots you first as he squints his blue eyes at you. You’re up early. You flip him off as you pretend to kick a pile of dirt at him. He comedically raises his arms as he wiggles his brows. “Chloe is looking for you. I think she’s gonna beat your ass.” 

He quickly stands up as he blows a deep breath directly to your boyfriend's face. You cringe. They share a quick look before Daniel shoots a thumbs up. “You’re good.” Thanking him, Scotty rushes past you as he hands you his left over beer. Making your way over to the brunette, you take a seat next to him as you spill the remaining dark liquid.

“Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”

“Isn’t it too early to be looking so beautiful?”

You muster a glare. “Don’t change the subject, Daniel.” Avoiding eye contact, he just keeps his tired gaze entertained on an Acacia tree. Bringing the bottle up to his lips, he lets out a low whistle. It’s hot. A cold beer helps. “Right,” you mumble as you flicker your own eyes towards the green tree. You can still spot it - your initials and his engraved. He had done it one evening when he and Scotty had one, too many drinks. He had stumbled all the way to you just to drag you and show you. Because I love you. Even when I’m drunk, I love you like crazy.

“Trees getting old. Might be time to cut it down.”

You flinch at his words. “Can I have a sip?” He raises his brows as he hands you the bottle. You just had one, he tries to joke as he watches the way you chug it down. Drying your lips, you crane your neck to look up at the blue sky. “You never minded sharing before.” He can distinguish the way your voice sounds - as if you’re upset over something he might’ve said - but he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. Standing up, you hand him back the glass bottle.

“Cut the tree. I don’t care.”

-

“And to my beautiful girlfriend - you’re everything to me and I love you. Without a doubt, the best birthday present I could ever ask for.” Raising his Coca-Cola can, the brown eyed boy sends you a wink with a bright smile plastered across his face. A face you’ve grown to recognize. The one you love.

Making his way over to you, he throws his arms over your shoulders as he rocks you side to side. You smile against his chest. “How does it feel to be 34? Do you have bad knees already?” He lets out a toothy grin as he slaps your ass. “It’s just a question!”

“My knees are fine. As long as I can still kneel down in front of you - that’s all that matters, no?”

You blush at his words as you jokingly push him away. This only makes him cling onto you harder. Squinting your eyes up at him, you trace heart shapes against his biceps. You sincerely feel the happiest you’ve felt in ages. This is the Daniel you knew like the back of your hand. “I was thinking maybe we can take a trip. Anywhere, really. To celebrate-”

“My birthday?” He beams. “This is why you’re the sweetest girlfriend in the entire world!” No problem, you shyly respond as you pinch his t-shirt in between your fingers. Kissing you one last time, he excuses himself to go welcome some late-comers. Chole zig zags her way over to you as she gives you a side hug.

“How’d it go?”

You sigh. “He forgot. He completely forgot. I don’t think I can entirely blame him - I mean it is his birthday.” The fact that you have to defend him makes the blonde furrow her dark brows. Shaking her head, she hands you a slice of chocolate cake.

“Never in a million years did your guys’ anniversary slip his mind. What a dick.”

But you’re not even listening. You’re too flabbergasted that he cut his cake without you being there with him. 

-

Whether it was a trip to Vermont for his birthday or your anniversary, it didn’t really matter because you loved every second. It’s almost like he needed this break. To do something different that didn’t feel like a forced routine. You went hiking, apple picking, to a million bars that only served barbeque ribs - and you never felt more at peace.

Handing you a bouquet of flowers, he kneels down in front of you. You roll your eyes as you take the colorful peonies from him - though inside you were shaking like a 17 year old getting her first glimpse of love. “What’s this for?” He shrugs as he takes a seat next to you.

“Just because.”

Those were your favorite types of flowers. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you both continue chatting about anything and everything that crossed your mind. As you both pass by a peach tree, he lets go of your hand as he brings up his camera with sudden determination. Stand right there, baby.

Trying to express your happiness as best as you can, you hug your gift close to your face as you smile so wide, your eyes nearly shut. 

“You’re mind blowing,” he murmurs as he snaps the picture. He takes a moment to admire you as you jog over to him. Show me! He clicks his tongue. “It’s digital. You’re gonna have to wait.” You pout as you pinch his cheek. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, he presses warm kisses.

“I have something to tell you.” Your heart stops; suddenly filled with nervousness as he smiles with giddiness. What is it? “I’m going to be driving again! I mean it completely sucks for Nyck, but I’m just so happy to get back into an F1 car.”

“Nyck? As in the Alpha Tauri driver?” 

He nods. “I got the call last month - a few days after my birthday. Best present ever.” Once again, his words cut you deep without him even noticing. Nevertheless, you force a tight smile.

“I’m so happy for you, Danny. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted for so long.”

-

When you both get back to Australia, it surprises you a bit how normal things have stayed. He’s smiling more - if that was even possible - he’s laughing louder, too. Roaming the house, you rub your eyes from sleepiness. Scotty and Chloe share a laugh when they spot you. “And Sleeping Beauty has finally woken. I didn’t think that was possible.” Chloe smacks his chest as she sends you a wink.

“Humor me, why don’t you?” Your gaze flickers across the living room. “Where’s Danny?” 

“Outside.” 

Sliding the door open, you step out as you try your best to adjust your eyesight to the bright sun. As soon as it does, your stomach drops. You run up to the brunette as you pull the ax from him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Startled, he jumps up as he takes his earphones out. “Holy shit. You scared me, don’t do that!” Tears fill your eyes as you analyze the chopped tree. You’re no expert, but even you can tell that there’s no going back. The only result that comes out of this would be for the tree to fall down. Rushing over to you, he checks you everywhere to make sure you weren’t hurt. You brush him off.

“Why would you do this?”

He cocks his head to the side, brown eyes filled with confusion. “I’m so lost, what did I do?” Anger bubbles up inside of you as you force yourself to not yell at him. “You’re okay, so why are you crying? Oh no. Did Scotty wake you up again? I told him not to do that anymore!”

“I’m done.” You wipe your tears as you let out a bitter laugh. “I am so done.”

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“I’m saying I give up! Fuck, I give up. That’s it. You win. I just - can’t.”

He tries to take a step closer but you only distance yourself twice as much. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve tried so hard to understand you, I really did, but I’m just as tired as you are. I tried to ease your pain when McLaren let you go, but you kept pushing me away. I tried to be there for you on days you felt like nothing, but to me you were always everything. I tried to not let you see how much it hurt me when you forgot our 5 year anniversary. I tried to not act like it bothered me when you cut the cake I spent hours baking for you, without me. I tried to not act surprised when I found out you kept the news from me about you returning to F1 for one fucking month. But I can’t try and pretend that you cutting down this tree hasn’t broken my heart.”

“It’s just a stupid, old tree-”

“I don’t think you understand! It may be old and it sure as hell could be stupid, but it was ours.” You grab his hand harshly as you drag him to the other side of the tree. His eyes grow wide. I didn’t remember - I swear I forgot that was even there! You let out a wet laugh as you toss your hair over your shoulder. “You’re hurting me, Daniel. Can’t you see?”

“You’re the one who said I should cut it down. You can’t seriously just be blaming me.”

“And who came up with the idea first?” 

He lowers his gaze as he runs his left hand against his clenched jaw. “I’m sorry.” He connects his desperate eyes to your glossy ones. “But don’t say all those things, please. You’re right. I’ve been an awful boyfriend, but no one understands me better than you.” Placing his hands on either side of your face, he lets out soft pants. “You’re everything to me, how could you have possibly felt that way? I love you.”

“Love me like what?” He furrows his brows as he searches for an answer. You scrunch your nose as you push his hands down. “I thought you loved me like crazy.” His stomach churns. “Listen, I love you, Daniel. I love you so fucking much, but even I can see that I’m not you’re happiness anymore. Not the way I used to be, at least. You have other priorities; other plans-”

“No, you’re my priority. You always have been.”

“Except I haven’t. For a moment, you went radio silent. It was a one-sided relationship, but I loved you so much that I stayed. I pushed past it. Then - one random day - your shine came back. You were insanely happy and I thought-” You shut your eyes. You can feel your salty tears trickle down your face. “I thought it was because of me. Now I realize, it hasn’t been about me for a while now. It’s so obvious that the only reason you were cheerful once again was because you got what you wanted. You got a seat.”

“You’re wrong-”

“I’m not.” You let out a shaky breath as you bite down on your lip; a weak attempt to not out loud sobs. “I would have gladly taken part in your pain, but you never let me join you. You never let me get close enough to help you out.” Making your way up to him slowly, you tippy toe as you lean in for a kiss. What hurts the most is that all of a sudden - he’s kissing you the exact same way he did when he first told you that he loved you. He was giving it his all. Pulling away, you let out a low whimper as you feel your chin tremble. Your smile wobbles. “Can’t force something that’s not there anymore, can you?”

Taking him in one last time, you rub his forearm as you gently pat it before you walk away. Daniel feels paralyzed as he watches you go. He’s expecting you to turn around at least one last time and he’s expecting his body to let him run after you, but neither of those things happen.

Hesitantly, Chloe and Scotty make their way to their frozen friend. They had heard the fight, but decided it was best to not intervene. 

“She left.”

The couple share a concerned look as they take in the weak tree that was clearly about to fall at any moment. Chloe sighs as she walks away, making a beeline to find you. Though, she knows you better than anyone. You weren’t going to return. And she completely understood.

Scotty takes a step back as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

“She fucking loved that tree.”

[fahatesyou]

please omg do you have any more thoughts to share on your threesome universe? I'm obsessed with it ❤️

maybe

There's no kids' stuff on the floor this time around. They've hidden a few things from Daniel. He can remember the shelves being less empty, with photos and adornments that now he knows are real actual trophies. 

Lando told him a few things about them; how the boyfriend is indeed 19 years old, and how she's obviously not. A racing driver, Lando said, freshly new in Monaco.

He told him a lot of things about her too, but Lando is still young and dumb and even if all of it was true, Daniel is not exactly the right person to judge. 

She was the one who came up to him, not the boy; Max. It was a way less sexy approach, more of a business deal than a horny twink asking to get his ass fucked in the middle of the dance floor. 

She held a baggie in front of his face and waited for an answer. There's no way Daniel could have snorted it all in one night without od'ing. Not even after ten long years of hard-earned experience. 

He can't remember them ever doing a bump or a line, so they must have made Lando’s night as well. He probably charged them a tourist price and went home, the lucky cunt. 

Daniel shouldn't have said yes; he could see on her face how much she wanted him not to. But then Daniel looked over his shoulder and saw him there, wearing a horrible flat-brimmed cap, tight blue jeans, nervous fingers fidgeting as he stood still like a nervous child waiting for his mom to come back. So red and sweaty for no reason. 

Daniel said yes. 

He fucks girls. It's easier, for them and for him. He fucked her last time he was here, so it feels natural to go for it again. He tries, but then he's met with a perfectly manicured hand pushing him away, left alone in the corner of the bed while they make out missionary style. 

Max keeps looking in Daniel's direction as his girlfriend works two fingers inside him. He pushes back every time, begging her for more, in English, for a change. 

"Don't come." She says after he whines something over her lips. He nods, muttering an apology, and then looking at Daniel to say sorry too. 

She reaches for a condom and Daniel gets the memo. The boy has his face hidden inside her neck. He's wet, a bit red from her fingers and the weird angle at which she was fingering him. She kicks his thigh when Daniel stares at it for too long. 

"You're both so hot," Daniel says, because fuck. It feels too weird not to say something at this point. 

She's naked but Max is not fucking her, his dick trapped between their bodies, outside of Daniel's hungry sight. He can only see his pink balls, full and drawn up; he must be rock hard and leaking, he had leaked so much before and the most he got back then was a sloppy hand job from her. Now Daniel is going to fuck him, just like he wanted but wasn't allowed to. Daniel thinks of how he must have asked her for it, of what he had to do to convince her. 

"He's not a virgin, don't worry." She says, pinching Max's ass and he fucking whines, hiding even more, so embarrassed that Daniel has to gently brush the inside of his soft thigh without her looking to help him relax. Make him feel better, just comforting him before putting his cock inside him.

So, yeah, she has fucked him before. 

Good. 

Great. 

Daniel has never been good at first times, anyways.

He can't blame her, with a soft and chunky ass like that, he's mostly hairless and so pink everywhere. Daniel just wants to put his mouth there and taste it, hear his little moans and make him come one time before he fucks him, just to take the edge off, so Max can stop being so tense and shaky as he waits for Daniel's dick. 

"Fuck." Daniel says, gently rubbing himself over Max's hole, pushing a bit just to test how much resistance there is. 

He takes it like a champ. It's probably the easiest sex Daniel has ever had. Maybe it is because he's young, or this is his second fuck of the day, or Daniel's dick is not that big as he thought it was. But Max keeps pushing back more and more, moaning and whining, not even reaching to touch his own dick; coming untouched with two of her fingers inside his mouth, almost choking on them as he politely thanks them both when he can finally talk again.

It's the hottest thing Daniel has seen in a very long time. He fucks Max through it until she orders him to pull out. She moves Max off her, and Daniel can see the pool of cum over her stomach, messy and fucking impressive.

"Come on me." She says, soaking two of her fingers with it to rub her clit, playing with one of her tits at the same time. 

Daniel does, mixing his load with the mess there.

He kisses her, breathless, and then turns to her boyfriend. His small dick is still so obviously hard Daniel can't help but laugh a bit. Max moans over Daniel's mouth, and then whimpers when Daniel brushes a finger over his leaking slit. 

"That was so hot." Daniel says, orgasm drunk and happy. 

"It was." She sighs, brushing her boyfriend's hair as he wipes the cum in her belly with a baby wipe. "Your coke is on the counter." 

There's no space for him to lie down. He didn't expect them to welcome him into their bed, but it's still a bit awkward having to get dressed when you're sober and just fucked. The boy walks to the bathroom at one point, leaving a half-dressed Daniel with her looking at his every move. 

"He likes you." She says. 

"Cool." Daniel nods. 

It makes her laugh. Daniel didn't think she could do that. 

"You know who we are, right?" She asks, sitting up. She no longer has the piercings on, they looked good on her, Daniel thinks. 

"Should I?"

The corners of her mouth turn slightly. He's fully dressed now. It's still early, it can't be later than 1. He could still walk home, he probably would if he didn't have a thousand euro baggie to transport. 

The boyfriend comes out of the bathroom before she can answer, he's wearing boxers and white socks. He stares at Daniel and then at her. 

"Do you need a ride?" He asks. 

His voice is gentle and croaky. He's such a fucking teenager and Daniel just fucked his brains out like he's not a dirty thirty-three year old. 

"Nah, mate. I'm good." Daniel shrugs, and Max's face closes a bit. Daniel can't help to add something more, just to make sure he knows. "But thanks, it was good. Really."

He smiles, small and sincere. He's soft and pale now, not so red and flushed like he was a couple of minutes ago. It was really hot to see Daniel's tan hand spreading him, Max's puffy hole clenching every time Daniel bottomed out. How tight he was.

"Bye, Daniel." She says. Bursting their little bubble and bringing him back to earth.

Max gets on the bed next to her right away, like there was a secret message hidden in her words. 

"See ya." Daniel says, closing the door behind him.

His coke is on the counter, just as she said. He grabs the full plastic bag and weighs it in his hand. He could pay his rent with it, if he had any will. Maybe ask Lando for a refund.

He's about to leave when something touches his leg, making him drop the coke again. It's a cat. Looking straight at him, its face slightly crooked like Daniel is some kind of strange creature he had never seen before.

Daniel stares back but stays still, waiting for it to go away or attack him so he can scream for help or something. 

"Sassy." Someone calls. It 's Max

"I'm sorry." He mutters. "She doesn't like being locked up in her cage for too long." He picks the cat up and rubs her head, making her purr in delight. 

"I was already leaving." He explains, showing Max the open app on his phone. "No need for more cages." Daniel says and shoves the coke in his back pocket. 

Max chuckles and puts her down. The cat runs away, getting lost between the fluffy cushions on the couch. 

"She 's just shy," He says, "but she won't bite you. She's nice. " 

"Like her dad." Daniel adds, and Max blushes, his smile growing wide. "Tell her I said bye, then."

"Of course," Max grins, his cheeks and neck turning a cute pink shade.

It's the first time they have ever been alone, and Daniel should be the bigger person and just leave like he was asked to. But with Max standing there, he can't help it. 

He kisses him, wet and messy. And Max opens up so easily and eager that Daniel has to cup a feel while he can. Squeeze his ass under the fabric of his boxers until he can feel the shape of Max's chubbing dick against his leg.

"You took it so well." He says against Max's hot mouth. "Next time I'll eat you out. I bet you could come just from it." And Max whines, nodding again, going straight for another kiss and rubbing himself on Daniel's leg, shamelessly and desperate. 

It's the sound of a door opening what tears them apart. 

Another cat runs out. And then she walks into the kitchen, wearing the same robe as the night before. 

"No ubers?" She asks, eyeing the obvious hard on inside Max's boxers. He walks away, going back inside their room, head low and flushed red everywhere. 

Daniel smiles at her, feeling smug and a bit of a cunt. He feels kind of sorry for her because she probably does love the kid. But Daniel has lived enough to see clearly what's happening here. And there's not enough amount of guys in the world that she can bribe with expensive coke to change it.

"I think I'm gonna walk." Daniel says. "Too nice of a night to waste it."

[formulawolff]

xiii. show the world - t.w.

pairing: female!driver x toto wolff

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, angst, lots of angst to be completely honest, pining, age gap relationship, toto being down bad per usual, two idiots in love but won't admit it, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“be honest with me. are you seeing someone?”

daniel brings a wine glass to his lips, tilting it back as you sit across from him, your fork clattering against the table. heat radiates off of your cheeks, flourishing into your neck as your eyes snap away from his intense stare. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the sun was starting to set over the water, casting a tangerine glow across its surface. fluffy clouds float along, the sky bursting with lavender, fuschia, and cerulean hues. yachts drifted along, their lights beginning to glimmer as the sky grew dimmer and dimmer. on your left, it was almost like the city was given its first breath of night life, locals strolling along the streets, their conversations and the growl of engines as they zoomed along the streets merely white noise. 

it was truly a breathtaking view, distracting you for just a moment, taking your focus away from the conversation at hand.

yet, you remember he’s awaiting your answer, arms folded across his chest, brows knit together. scrambling to formulate some sort of response, you gnaw on the inside of your cheek, shoulders slumping. 

“what if i told you i was?”

“hmm,” daniel hums, downing the rest of his wine, “then i would say good for you, i guess.”

“oh come on,” your regain your composure, frustration brewing in the pit of your stomach, “i thought we consensually agreed that we wouldn’t explore a relationship because we needed to keep things professional.”

“i did that because that’s what you wanted,” daniel swivels his head, glancing out at the water, “i never agreed to that. i only respected your wishes because that was what you wanted. i never wanted that. i wanted you.”

“but you never told me,” you protest, absentmindedly picking at your ratatouille, “that night in jeddah, i vividly remember you telling me that you never acted on your feelings because you knew that it was one-sided.”

daniel huffs, shaking his head, “i didn’t think i would’ve had to spell it out for you. i was under the impression you knew that i had feelings for you. and actually, i thought you reciprocated those same feelings. thank you for reminding me of the cold hard truth. i feel so much better about this. thanks for that.”

“you’re not being very mature about this. what happened to staying emotionally mature about the matter?”

“i was doing that until i heard from alex that you were dating someone,” daniel retorts, his tone seething with fiery anger, “you couldn’t just tell me yourself? also, how long were you going to keep that from me? were you just not going to mention it until i found out?”

“i didn’t think it was important,” you shrug, shrinking in your seat as pairs of eyes sear into you, the stares becoming more and more prominent as daniel’s voice carries throughout the patio.

“starting a relationship with someone isn’t important?”

“daniel,” you hiss, desperately wishing you were wearing a cap or some sunglasses, “people are starting to stare.”

“okay and?” he cocks his head, “i don’t give a fuck. you have no fucking idea how heartbroken i’ve been these last few weeks. i feel like my entire world has been turned upside down. meanwhile you’re frolicking around with some douchebag from st. louis. obviously the dick is must have you in a chokehold because you’ve been a completely different person.” 

“daniel, please,” the notes in your tone raise an octave as your lower lip trembles, “stop, please. people are listening. can we talk about this some other time–”

“well luckily for you,” daniel inhales sharply, rising to his feet, “i don’t want to discuss it any further. i’m done here. see you around, america’s princess.”

tossing his napkin on the table, the australian snatches the keys to his rental, muttering under his breath. you remain at the table, people resuming back to their previous conversations as the waitress comes by, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“is everything all right, madame?” 

“i just need the check please,” you mumble, tears threatening to spill over as you reach for your purse, “i’ll pay for it all. i am so sorry about that.

“no worries madame,” the waitress chirps, “would you care for a free dessert for your troubles?”

you know what? free dessert didn’t seem too bad after all. 

“oui, s’il vous plait.”

at your response, the waitress’ lips curve into a wide grin, “tu es le bienvenu.”

letting out a shaky breath, you wipe away a tear, pulling your phone out of your purse. swallowing the lump in your throat, you message the one person you needed most.

i hope things are going well on your end tonight. is there any chance you can come by my hotel room, or i swing by yours? it would be later tonight. i want my sexy, smoochable, handsome boyfriend. :’((((( 

the moment you send the message, three little bubbles appear, signaling that he had received it, and was crafting a reply.

i take it the dinner didn’t go well? what happened, meine liebe? ich vermisse dich auch. 

wrinkling your nose, you highlight the text, tapping the copy option. thumb gliding across the screen, you click on the google translate app, pasting it into the textbox. 

what happened, my love? i miss you too. 

i can explain more later. you type, are you busy? 

never too busy for you. remember, we’re in monaco. i own a place here. 😘 you can just come by whenever you need. i’m at home. do you need the address?

yes please. i’ll be there as soon as possible. 

i can’t wait to see your beautiful face. here’s the address. i’ll be waiting impatiently. 

the second you type his address in your phone, the waitress comes by your table, a box in one hand, billfold in the other. placing the box on the table, you anticipate her to do the same with the check. yet, she doesn’t keeping it in her grasp. 

“madame, your meals have been taken care. a gentleman called, inquiring if he could foot the bill. he stated he did not want you to worry about anything else this evening. is that all right?”

your heart flutters, “did he say a name, by chance?”

“no madame,” the waitress flashes you a quaint smile, “again, i am so sorry if your evening has been ruined in any sort of way. i hope the dessert helps in some fashion!”

“thank you,” you reciprocate the gesture, “and again, thank you for the dessert.”

“it is no problem,” the waitress dips her head, “have a great evening, madame!”

rising to your feet, you push in your chair, ensuring that you don’t forget the plain white box that was placed on the table. carrying it under your arm, you pull up your maps app, feeling a grin form.

maybe tonight will not end as poorly as it began. 

you could thank toto wolff for that.

ever since miami, you felt as if the weight of the world was off your shoulders. the stress was alleviated, dissolving almost completely. you could go about your day without that ever-present thought in the back of your mind, gnawing away at you. 

however, there were more mountains to climb. more obstacles to face. 

you had yet to sit down with james, alex, or anyone else really, to discuss your decision to depart from williams at the end of the 2024 season. 

toto was the only one who knew. 

and for the time being, you were okay with that. 

but you were running out of time. the days were soaring by. you would blink and suddenly it would be time to board that flight. it would be time to get behind the wheel, adrenaline coursing through your veins. it would be time to step on that podium, raising that gleaming trophy above your head, your team roaring below. 

with four grand prixs wins, three of which were back-to-back, you were unstopabble. 

a force to be reckoned with. 

max tried to catch you, he really did. 

but you were too fast, fueled by the thrill of victory. 

it was intoxicating, sending an electric, exhilarating buzz throughout your entire being every time you breezed across that finish line.

and with a man like toto by your side, how could you possibly lose? 

with the monaco grand prix on the docket for the weekend, you were preparing for a challenging race. the circuit was extremely tight, the track interweaving through the buildings and sights the city. it was an infamous track, known for its rich history and well, the accidents. 

additionally, there was little to no room for overtakes. so if you wanted to be on that podium on sunday, you had to execute a stellar qualifying lap. with that added pressure, you were a little apprehensive for what was to come. 

yet, you couldn’t let that anxiety creep in. you had to maintain your composure. it was crucial that you kept a calm, cool outlook on the race. 

and as you found yourself at that massive gate, pressing the button to your left, you couldn’t help but feel peace of mind. 

you could thank toto wolff for that as well. 

with every moment spent with the team principal, you couldn’t help but shake this aching, nagging feeling. 

it was a pure, innocent feeling. one that filled you to the brim with bliss, a cozy warmth blossoming in your chest, your heart swelling with joy. one that had you beaming from ear to ear, your once gloomy days now shining with this golden, rich light. 

you were in love with him. 

hopelessly in love, your whole heart resting in his tender hands. 

you couldn’t tell him that though. you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

at least, not yet. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“all right,” james’ sucks in a breath, his head swiveling from side to side, taking in the commotion all around. 

“are you ready?” 

“come on,” you wave a hand, “you know the drill. i was born ready.” 

“i know,” the team principal’s lips twitch as he fights a smile, “but this is a pretty significant race. there’s a lot of history and heartbreak on this track.” 

“are you saying that you don’t think i can win?” you tease, your voice muffled slightly by the thick exterior of the helmet, “james, i can do this. believe me, i can do this.” 

“there’s a lot at stake here,” he places a hand on the top of your head, patting it, “just remember, whatever happens, i believe in you. always.” 

i believe in you. always. 

your lower lip trembles, and in that moment, you want to confess right there. you almost blurt out the words that had been lingering on your tongue for weeks now. 

james, after this race, we need to to talk. 

however, you don’t. you simply nod, drumming your hands against the steering wheel, “i’ll make you guys proud, i promise.”

“oh, you already do,” his eyes glimmer, bursting with pride, “you’ve made us so fucking proud these last few weeks. and you know what? i know you’re going to continue to make williams racing proud. i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us.” 

fuck. 

that conversation was going to absolutely destroy you, splitting your heart into two. 

you couldn’t think about that, though. 

the race was about to start. 

on the grid, you were behind charles leclerc and oscar piastri. it wasn’t terrible positioning, but with the limited space, you knew that getting ahead would be nearly impossible. it would be a miracle if you were able to cross that finish line in first place. 

yet, you were more than willing to take the risks involved to get to that position. 

all you needed was a little bit of luck. 

which, these days, it seemed like you were full of it. like you were carrying a four leaf clover in your pocket at all times. 

as rays of sunshine filter through the clouds, a gold streak of light dances in your peripheral vision. 

nestled on your wrist was the charm bracelet toto had gifted you that fateful night in jeddah. the charm gleams, reminding you of two things. 

one, your very first grand prix victory.  

two, that he was always with you. 

perhaps he was that good luck charm you were desperately searching for.

maybe. just maybe. 

in about seventy-eight laps, you would have that answer. 

“and she has done the impossible! she has shattered yet another record! miss america has won monaco! she has won her fifth grand prix!” 

“fuck yes!” you shout, “we won! we won monaco!” 

“brilliant fucking job,” james’ voice trembles, thready with excitement, “bloody good job!” 

euphoria crashes over you like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless as it sucks the air out of your lungs. burying your head in your hands, your shoulders shake as you sob. 

never, in your wildest dreams would you have expected to have made it this far. 

never would you even imagined racing as a little girl, let alone racing at this caliber. 

and winning races? five of them?

little you, cheesing with her toothy five-year-old smile, standing next to a kart, helmet under her arm, wouldn’t have ever dreamed of this moment. 

you had improved miles upon miles from the driver you were last season. you made history. time and time again. you had shattered records, obliterating barriers in the world of formula one racing as a twenty-two year old woman. 

and fuck, you weren’t even done yet. 

you still had a world title to chase after. 

“holy shit. holy shit. holy motherfucking shit.” 

stepping out of the car, your heart races, your team nearly sprinting to congratulate you. picking out james, you flash him a thumbs up. the crowd raves, whooping, whistling, and hollering your newfound nickname. 

“miss america! miss america! miss america!” 

cameras appear out of thin air, recording as you step down, james and alex swathing you with their embrace. alex rattles your helmet, james’ grin shining bright as the cameras flash. 

“what a bloody brilliant day!” james shouts, a glossy sheen over his eyes, “what a fucking day!” 

“what place did you finish, alex?” your voice rises above the noise, “what did you get?” 

“ninth!” he chirps, “two drivers in the top ten? that’s a pretty fucking good day!” 

“a very fucking good day,” laughter rises in your chest, spilling out, “fuck, that nearly took everything out of me!” 

“well you better shape up,” alex pats your back, “because you have a podium that’s calling your name.” 

as the team gathers, making their way to the finish line, your heart yearns for one thing. well, one person. 

toto. 

pursing your lips, your eyes scan through the garages, attempting to make out the mercedes paddock. yet, there is too much movement in your line of sight as the crew members assemble, circling around their respective drivers. 

the euphoria lingers as your step onto the podium, the crowd below applauding. there are shouts that rise above the clapping, yet you can barely make them out. 

surveying the mass, your heart skips a beat as you locate him. 

his eyes lock with yours, pure, radiant adoration painted across his features. 

that’s my girl. he mouths, dimples apparent with every word. 

a few strands of hair flutter in his face, the top button of his shirt un-done, the fabric slightly wrinkled from the chaos of race day. 

yet, he was as gorgeous as ever. 

as charles and oscar pop open the champagne, you hesitate, fingers trembling as they wrap around the neck of the bottle.

you know what? 

fuck this. 

“hey!” charles calls out as you step down from the platform, “where are you going?”

there’s a brief moment of confusion from the crowd, a few gasps ringing out as you shoulder your way down the stairs, muttering numerous apologies as you accidentally elbow several people along the way. 

there was only one thing on your mind as you nudged your way through the throng of people gathered beneath the podium. although your skin burned beneath your suit, sweat clinging to every part of you, there was this tugging sensation at your heart. it urged you to keep going. to keep searching. 

you were face-to-face now, his brow furrowing with concern, arms folded across his chest as you take another step forward. 

“what are you–"

that’s when toto wolff found your lips colliding with his, the entire world crumbling away as he found himself lost in you.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010  @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @statuewoman @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @m-1234 @whoisss @msbyjackal @annaaepf1 @paigelouise @bborra @bblouifford @upsteadsstuff @omgsuperstarg @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower

as always, if i forgot to add you, or if you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know! thank you all for the endless support and love for this series! y'all are the sweetest! <3

[formulafics]

★ JUST MY TYPE | LN4

Scenario: in which lando norris’ history with his new teammate leads people to believe they don’t like one another, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. (requested)

Pairing: lando norris x male!reader

A/N: we need more rep for male readers 🙌🏻 had so much fun making this one and as per usual, shout-out to @renarots for fueling this

⌕ www.formulatimes/ynlnmovestomclaren

Anyone who’s an up-to-date F1 fan knows all about this rivalry, but just in case you don’t, here’s a quick rundown.

It all started in their karting days. Every race they would go wheel to wheel, and often finish right behind the other. They pushed each other, both metaphorically and physically. In one race, a desperate attempt to overtake YN saw Lando Norris taking himself out of the race.

A few years later, the two would be promoted to Formula One, in which Lando signed to Mclaren, and Yn signed to Alpine - a mistake, if you ask me…or any other fan of his. That being said, it wasn’t Yn’s first choice. Mclaren was openly considering Lando Norris AND Yn Ln, but ultimately chose to sign Norris, with Daniel Ricciardo occupying the second seat. This only fed into their rivalry.

During their rookie year, they fought at the back of the pack as they learned the reigns of F1, but as Norris improved throughout the seasons, Yn was left behind. There’s a lot to unpack in regards to that, but in the simplest of terms, his team has constantly prioritized Pierre Gasly, their second driver, despite him being the inferior talent between the two. We’ve seen this happen with other teams, and that never ends well.

All of that leads to this shocking revelation: Yn Ln is joining the Mclaren Formula One Team. While we can’t say for sure how this will play out, we can speculate. Will they move past their differences and become the ultimate team? Or, will they become the next brocedes?

Published: December 12, 2022

yn_ln

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, maxfewtrell, logansargeant, and 234,761 others

yn_ln new year, new start. thanks @/mclaren and @/landonorris 🧡

view all 3,456 comments

maxfewtrell so happy for you man. you deserve it.

landonorris happy to be teammates with you (finally)

⤷ yn_ln 🫶🏻

⤷ landoland FINALLY?

⤷ rizzciardo lando fans finding out that he and yn are actually really good friends: 😱🤯 they’re one step away from being boyfriends

mclaren great job in bahrain, yn! 🧡👊🏻

ynsworld THATS MY BOY ‼️ so proud of you yn, this is gonna be such a good year for you.

norrisnation i may be a certified lando lover, but i would die and kill for yn.

⤷ landonorris same

papayabull LETS GO I WAS PRAYING FOR THIS DAY (i was manifesting yn to redbull but this works too)

lando.jpg

liked by yn_ln, maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc, riabish, and 245,652 others

lando.jpg when in australia…

view all 3,456 comments

yn_ln rate my photography skills on a scale of 1-10

⤷ lando.jpg 10

⤷ yn_ln wrong. its 12.

⤷ lando.jpg right, my fault. suppose you should open a jpg account of your own in that case

maxfewtrell where was my invite?

⤷ lando.jpg so you could complain about third wheeling?

⤷ landomania AYO? what do you mean by that?

⤷ amgmclaren don’t read into it too much, that’s how it is with lando and all of his teammates

teamyn these are my babies and they’re thriving. i love them &lt;;3

racing.news

liked by mclaren, f1, and 12,345 others

racing.news lando norris has addressed the rumors regarding his relationship with his teammate. norris, 24, said “at the end of the day, i like who i like. i don’t want to put a label on it. it being my sexuality and my relationship with my teammate - those are private matters and have nothing to do with formula one.”

what are your thoughts?

view all 3,432 comments

norrisnation i just hate that they’re wrapped up in this. even if they are dating, i wish they could just be left alone.

rizzciardo we do not give a fuck about them dating. let people love people without questioning their shit 24/7

landomania FORGET WHAT LANDO SAID LOOK AT HOW HE’S LOOKING AT YN IN THE FIRST PICTURE

maxfewtrell my thoughts are that people should mind their business, politely

⤷ norrisnation SPEAK YOUR TRUTH KING 🙌🏻 we love to see you supporting and defending them

⤷ maxfewtrellstappen I LOVE YOU 😭

mclaren

liked by yn_ln, landonorris, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, and 345,628 others

mclaren PAPAYA PODIUM 🤩🧡 an absolutley outstanding performance from our drivers today.

view all 6,543 comments

yn_ln super fun day. thank you guys 🧡

ynsworld anyone else noticing that yn seems less happy lately?

⤷ norrisyn YES BRO 😭 it hurts bc he was so happy at the beginning of the season after alpine fucked him over

⤷ ynlandolover honestly i think it’s bc of the rumors. imagine being there to race and all anyone can do is ask about your sexuality and relationship AND most of the questions are clearly judgemental

⤷ papayabull yeah, i feel for yn :( i hope the rumors and shit chill down bc he doesn’t deserve it

rizzciardo they’re so in love it makes me sick

⤷ norrisnation literally 😭 even if they’re just friends, they have so much love for each other and it’s obvious

verstappensboy was 100% certain they were gonna kiss

⤷ formulanorris ain’t even gonna lie, i feel like they considered it for a second. maybe i’m teaching but between their posts, rumors, landos statement, etc, i feel like they are dating

⤷ formulayn honestly same, but i’d avoid speculation online just in case they see it. they both want to keep the details private and we should respect it yk?

landonorris

liked by yn_ln, maxfewtrell, mclaren, riabish, alex_albon, and 345,621 others

landonorris i like who i like, and i stand by that. i won’t put a label on my sexuality, but i do want to be clear that yn is my boyfriend, and i couldn’t ask for a better human being to take that position in my life. i love you forever, @/yn_ln

view all 3,464 comments

maxfewtrell love you guys. so sorry the media didn’t let you do this on your own terms.

*liked by yn_ln and landonorris*

yn_ln i love you so fucking much

⤷ landonorris i love you more

norrisnation we love you so much, lando. 😭 i’m so happy for you both omg

mclaren 🧡

rizzciardo COUPLE OF THE FUCKING CENTURY

formulanorris lando be honest was this a photo shoot you did? and if so, are there more pictures?

⤷ landonorris ….maybe

⤷ ynland HAND THEM OVER PLEASE I BEG

yn_ln

my type - saint motel

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussel63, and 212,345 others

yn_ln what really happened in monaco 🤭

view all 3,456 comments

landonorris you’re just my type ;)

norrisnation GOD BLESS YOU FOR THESE PICTURES YN

formulayn this is so hot of yn and lando im ngl

⤷ rizzciardo retweet

ynsworld POWER COUPLE.

all feedback is appreciated! thank you for reading 🫶🏻

general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie @treehouse-mouse

[lookismfanfics]

𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐.

Notes: If ya’ll want part 3 it’ll probably include Goo, Vin, Daniel, Jihan, and whoever else you guys want. Just a heads up!

Warnings: Fluff, nudity (not explicit), wholesomeness, mild cursing, mentions of violence

Eugene • Gun • Zack • Johan • Jake • Lineman • Jason • Hudson

𝐄𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞

🝮 The candles, assortments of expensive shampoos, classic piano melodies playing from the speakers, and altogether romantic atmosphere weren’t out of the normal for Eugene.

🝮 Shower time was usually like this. He was busy, and needed to unwind… but in a timely manner.

🝮 The only thing different about the bathroom today was you.

🝮 You. Crouched by the tub, pouring globs of bubble-bath solution carelessly into the foamy water. Wrapped in his a luxurious robe.

🝮 Eugene takes off his quickly-steaming glasses, wiping them gingerly against his shirt.

🝮 “What’s all this about, (Y/N)?” He asks. No doubt he’s forming an answer of his own right now. You smile coyly.

🝮 He likes that smile on you. Your casual wit and intellect never fails to charm his cooly-intelligent and egotistical self.

🝮 “It’s your shower time. Says so on the calendar,” you state. “I told you sharing our Cloud wasn’t an invitation for you to spy on my personal schedule,” he counters.

🝮 He ends up cracking a smile anyway. The type of smile he reserves specifically for your enjoyment.

🝮 “Whatever. Get in.” You gesture towards the tub, unfazed as Eugene stares at you cooly. “Sorry. You want privacy undressing or something?”

🝮 His sharp “yes” falls on deaf ears. You both end up stifling giggles and sharing looks as he piles his clothes on the floor.

🝮 The soap suds in the tub are an off-white color. Eugene hates dyed bath bombs.

🝮 After he submerges himself in the water and has a book in his hand, you take to kissing his knuckles and smoothing out his hair.

🝮 Neither of you converse very much. He smirks whenever your eyes meet, though.

🝮 It’s elegant and intimate. That’s norm for being in a relationship with Eugene.

𝐆𝐮𝐧

🝮 It started off with a workout.

🝮 Gun, the ridiculous bast*rd, trying his hardest to overwork you till your bones break. For the sake of getting stronger.

🝮 And now that that’s over, it’s your turn.

🝮 Exasperated and breathless as you push on his bare chest, trying to force him through the doorway of the bathroom

🝮 “Just— get— in— Gun!” You huff, slapping your hand roughly against the side of his torso.

🝮 He’s such a pig sometimes.

🝮 On his own he walks backwards and sits down in the bathtub. Soapy water engulfs his frame. His normal nonchalance is wasted on you. All he ever seems to do is smirk when you’re around.

🝮 You mumble “jerk” and in response he tells you to “eat ass”

🝮 You hold his head underwater for that-

🝮 He chooses the soap. A musky, expensive brand. Something that smells like him.

🝮 While Gun scrolls boredly through his classical playlist you take off your clothes.

🝮 Hop right in beside him, let him spread his legs and lean against his back. He doesn’t mind. Actually, he prefers it that way.

🝮 “You did good today,” Gun remarks. He leans his head back against the wall. You hum in reply.

🝮 It’s not so much a bath as it is a warm soak.

🝮 Gun’s hands rub down your legs roughly. Even if he isn’t gentle, per say, it feels nice for your aching muscles.

🝮 “You weren’t so bad yourself,” you reply. He chuckles at that.

🝮 You’ll come out of that bath with Gun’s signature scent all over you. He doesn’t mind THAT at all.

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤

🝮 If athletic had a scent… then it would smell exactly like Zack Lee’s shampoo.

🝮 He digs his hands into the side of the bathtub and wills himself not to blush as you crouch beside him, pouring more bubble solution into the foggy water.

🝮 “Where’d you buy this anyway?” You ask, knowing Zack doesn’t like buying cheap brands. And it doesn’t smell bad, necessarily.

🝮 He swallows, eyes narrowing and a sheepish flush rising to his face. “I dunno. Do you not like it or something…?”

🝮 “No it’s fine. It smells like you.”

🝮 Zack’s hands are busted. His cracked knuckles are a clear indicator of the fight he had gotten himself into.

🝮 You grumble about it a little, but not too much. Just a simple, “I thought we talked about you getting into fights…” and then you dropped it.

🝮 You lathered your hands with shampoo, scrubbing deep into the roots of his hair.

🝮 You tenderly scrubbed across his body, knowing he was unable to with his mangled hands.

🝮 Sweet, rushed kisses followed. Zack is such a simp— almost completely unable to look you in the eye, let alone return your affection.

🝮 The signiture-athlete-soap was down the drain. Zack dried himself off.

🝮 “You weren’t planning on doing this again… were you?” He calls. When you don’t answer, his chest deflates.

🝮 “(Y/N)— ARUGH!”

🝮 The door slams

🝮 “Why are you naked?!”

🝮 “I’m getting in the shower too…!”

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧

🝮 Puppy eyes. That’s what he gives you.

🝮 Where did he learn this sacred guilt-tripping art from? His dogs?

🝮 Either way, you shake your head.

🝮 “Look, you can use the bathroom to shower- or whatever. But I’m not helping you.”

🝮 Johan: 🥺

🝮 Five minutes later, you’re helping him.

🝮 He’s half naked, and had reprimanded you for staring. “It’s not that big of a deal,” or whatever crap he said.

🝮 You are currently checking the water temperature.

🝮 “Look, using my bathtub is pretty straightforward. Once you get it to the temp you like you can just plug in the drain cap. Okay?”

🝮 You demonstrate. Johan nods.

🝮 “Okay. Soap is there… and-yeah. Have fun Johan.”

🝮 You rise, dodging him and beelining for the door. You have other things, after all-

🝮 “Wait,” Johan mumbles.

🝮 You look over your shoulder, met head-on with those baby brown eyes of his. Johan blinks. His brows are furrowed slightly in contemplation. Or whatever is going through his pea-brain.

🝮 “Can you get in with me?”

🝮 🫠

🝮 (I can’t tell you what to do. Hop in or leave him hanging- 💅)

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

🝮 His shirt slips off a solid abdomin and exposes inked shoulders and chest. His tattooed arms flex as the shirt falls to the side.

🝮 This display is… seen by no one. Jake has no audience in the empty bathroom but himself.

🝮 He cranes his neck to catch sigh of some scrapes and bruises on his back. It not too difficult. Even through his peripherals the purple splotches are obvious.

🝮 With a sigh, Jake begins to unzip his pants and unclamp his belt—

🝮 THE DOOR CREAKS

🝮 A towel covers him in a second. (Since when has he been self-conscious??) The door opens completely to let you in.

🝮 You… with your arms full of bath and medical supplies.

🝮 You set down the things and face a nervously smiling Jake. The towel is snatched out of his grasp in a millisecond.

🝮 “Don’t bother hiding it Jake. I know you look like a wreck,” you snap.

🝮 Jake? Self-conscious? Nah. Afraid of your wrath? Maybe.

🝮 The water is turned on and soon the bathtub is filled. Eventually the soapy water cradles Jake’s large figure.

🝮 Your hands feel nice against his sore skin, he thinks. He stays still as you wash off his cuts and bruises… let’s you wet his hair and scrub soap into his scalp.

🝮 “I love you,” he smiles. Cheeky.

🝮 You sigh and press a kiss against his cheek. “I know.”

🝮 Bubbles eventually popped… the water was drained. Jake’s favorite part was being dried off anyway. He likes his hair being ruffled by you… the soft towel rubbing down his back and legs.

🝮 In the end he smells like strawberries. You can’t help but tease him about that.

🝮 Argument avoided successfully 👍

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧

🝮 In all honesty you had never seen Lineman without a shirt on. You’d only… heard about it.

🝮 But anyway. Here you are. Pouring soap onto a washcloth and dabbing it on his temple.

🝮 The excessive amount of bath bombs were completely necessary. You didn’t need to be flashed.

🝮 Lineman sits as still as possible, not wanting soap to get into his eyes. He mumbles about how nice the water feels and how he’s grateful that you’re taking care of him.

🝮 “Why does it smell so peachy?” He asks suddenly, cupping some of the water in his hand.

🝮 You shrug. “It’s just the scent I guess.”

🝮 Bandaids have fallen off and are thrown in the trash. You apply neosporin to the cut over his eyebrow.

🝮 You’re about to pour some water into his hair but he dodges out of the way. Something about a hair routine. Admittedly it is one of his nicest features…

🝮 “Ya don’t have to do that, (Y/N). I’m good,” he tells you sheepishly. He says that a lot actually. He’s capable of turning on the water… cleaning his banged-up body… drying off…

🝮 You do all those things for him anyway. He just complies bashfully and lets it happen.

🝮 Afterwards you ask him to take his clothes off more often (as a joke.) He takes you completely seriously- 😳

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

🝮 It’s not that Jason can’t be romantic, but between the two of you, you’re typically the more… intimate one

🝮 This weekend was a bit different though. And without getting into explicit details, you’ve spend a fair share of romantic time together.

🝮 So now, to unwind, you’re grabbing your bath kit and treating the two of you to some self-care. (The bath bombs needed to be used. Lua gifted them to you two Christmas’ ago-)

🝮 You settle for a green colored… minty scented soap. With the pigmented water bubbling and steaming, you decided now was the time to hop in.

🝮 You sink into the tub 🛁

🝮 Jason comes in a few minutes later with some towels and a book for you.

🝮 “Don’t you wanna get in?” You ask. He splashes you with some water and gives some sort of embarrassed reply.

🝮 He uses a loofah to scrub your back. “Isn’t the water too hot?”

🝮 “Nope. Just you.”

🝮 *More aggressive splashing*

🝮 “You’re worse than Jake,” he mumbles, dropping the loofah and sitting against the wall. You just smile in return.

𝐇𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧

🝮 “What kind of scents do you like?” You’d ask. He wouldn’t give you an answer.

🝮 “Hudson…! I’m for real!” You’d say. Still, nothing.

🝮 “Please just answer my question-” you grumbled. Nothing.

🝮 Hudson didn’t want you to spoil him (that’s… not exactly what you had in mind but-) and he definitely didn’t need you spending your money on HIS beauty products.

🝮 Ever since he joined the Allied…. Idiots (there’s not a nicer way to put it) he’s begun to realize that his own products and routines are pretty low-key.

🝮 He went over Jay’s penthouse once. To drop something off. The dude was basically butt naked, wearing just a skimpy robe. What was that all about? Apparently he was in the middle of some hour-long beauty ritual.

🝮 Then there’s Zack Lee. Don’t even get Zack STARTED on using hair gel… or washing your face… using an exfoliator…

🝮 Compared to them, Hudson just kinda… showered? The soap brand he used jumped from whatever was available. So when he told you he didn’t have a favorite scent, he was being completely honest.

🝮 So you took a guess. Picked out some honeysuckle bubble soap. Some matching scented shampoo. Now you dip your finger into the water to test if it’s okay.

🝮 Behind you Hudson reluctantly takes off his clothes. He takes better care of his sweater than his pants, which he just flops on the floor and toes out of the way.

🝮 You gesture for him to get in.

🝮 “I never asked you to do this…” he murmurs, slipping underneath the sudsy water.

🝮 You nod. “I know. I just felt like it.”

🝮 You kiss his knuckles and help wash his back. You also tease him about his wet, flat hair—

So sorry for the delay everyone! Going to hustle through requests!!

[leclercsbunny]

maybe if you loved me ♡ c. sainz

part five ♡ masterlist

anasainzvdec posted a story 12m ago

blanca watches you convene with ana animatedly, nodding and laughing along with the both of you as per usual, though she held an air of reservation and restraint, being deep in thought.

"sorry, i have an urge to use the restroom again." you sheepishly cut through her story.

"again? your bladder's gotten small or something?" ana comments amusedly.

"let me go with you." blanca stands up from her seat, making a face. "i think the oj got to me aswell." you gestured towards her smugly, as if to tell ana; look, i'm not alone in my struggles.

"fine, but hurry back." she playfully rolls her eyes.

blanca hooks her arm around yours, and you both depart to the restroom. you made small talk on the way, and went to do your business separately.

when you left the stall to wash your hands, blanca was already there. she looked as if she was... waiting for you. she looked serious, and somehow, bothered.

"is everything alright?" you ask her, feeling your heart drop.

"i say this out of the love i have for you and carlos." blanca utters slowly, watching your expression change. "but does he know?"

"i don't know what you're talking about, blanca." you wave her off, suddenly turning defensive.

"i'm sorry if i'm overstepping... but i cannot help but notice all these, very subtle tells." she says softly, not wanting you to get agitated. "you're suddenly queasy when it comes to certain foods, and you're drawn to sweets. like, crazy partial to them. you use the bathroom often, your waist is just.." she measures it with her hand. "and i think we've cultivated a friendship comfortable enough for a brazen comment about the evident size of your... nether regions."

"blanca," you hiss, feeling your cheeks warm with both embarassment and indignance, as you cover your body from her all knowing gaze. "i don't like what you're implying."

"and you didn't drink coffee. you need your coffee, you're like a.." she sniffles, suddenly finding it difficult to maintain her own composure, "fish when you drink those latte's."

"why are you crying?" you push her shoulders, feeling your own nose itch from the buildup of emotions threatening to just spill and topple the both of you. "this is your own freaking fault that we're having this conversation. be woman enough to finish it."

"you're pregnant." she said it with certainty, eyes welling up with tears, she didn't know wether from happiness or sadness. maybe both. it was supposed to be a joyful moment, one which had been your dream for such a long time. but instead your eyes were both red from the complexities of your current emotions, the information tainted with the knowledge of your current realities. "how far long?" she asks.

"still not sure." you rectify with a broken voice, wiping your tears away. "i took some pt, but i've been delaying the blood tests."

"makes sense," blanca reaches out to grasp your shaky hands, "what do you plan to do?"

"i don't know." you reply honestly. "i can only ever think about matteo, and.. and..." you shake your head resolutely, "i don't want anything to change with him."

"things are going to change, but it doesn't always mean a bad one." she tells you, "i know you're at odds with carlos, but— will you tell him?"

you shake your head, "he doesn't need to know." yet even you found it hard to believe.

"he's the father, y/n." blanca reminds you softly, "i know he's done something horrible, and there's no reason to his actions.... but it will crush him."

"he has a very fickle sense of loyalty, and i'm tired of waiting for him to change." you reply. "i don't need his wavering devotion in my baby's life. please understand me, blanca." you tell her pleadingly.

f1chai the carlos-yn-daniel drama bubbles over with more controversy as yn is embroiled in a shocking pregnancy scandal. spanish news outlets broke the news over the weekend, claiming the spaniard's long time, now ex girlfriend, has secretly been seeing one of the best child-rearing physician in madrid— neither carlos, nor daniel have been accompanying her, but one of the sainz' sister was discreetly pictured on one of her visits. this led many to speculate that yn is indeed with child, and have been for some time. the question of wether it is sainz's or ricciardo's have yet to be answered. the parties involved had declined to comment on this matter.

username what the fuck

username IS CARLOS A SHARP HITTER OR SOMETHING ?!?

username am not believing this until further notice

username LIES !! character defaming ones !! SUE EVERYONE !!

username LAWSUIT LAWSUIT LAWSUIT

username seriously why the fuck are people following her anyways...

username right !! she's a normal citizen and these people are all up in her business 🙄

username seriously. let the girl breathe fs

username wrong on so many levels

username this is better than any telenovalas 😭😭

username who's the daddy ? 🤨

username MAMMA MIA ??

username are we even doubting carlos... that man has a whole ass son

username just why? yn already had it good 😭😭😭

username she was running then tripped

username on sainz's lap...

username have to give it to him. well done !!

username get the bag i guess !!

username yeah 😭😭 atleast her baby daddy isn't some brokie 😭😭

username he's a cheater though

username **serial cheater

username 😭😭😭😭