#aston hall

[banquetoct]

At the top of Sage Hill is an old Victorian manor that has seen decades of refurbish and care. It is said that the House is cursed: those who cross its threshold become lost in its vast interior, never to return. Our host, the Lady Caris, has recently inherited the House and its malediction. To break the curse, she must give it away, but not to just anyone. The House must go to someone worthy of its legacy. The House demands a strong and intelligent master, or it will devour them, heart and soul.

To find such a person, Lady Caris is throwing a four-day dinner party, a large banquet for sixteen guests. There will be games, little challenges where winners must prove themselves capable of exerting their power and influence over the House itself. Guests are invited to stay for four nights at a massive haunted mansion. The last person standing, who is not sent away by the host, wins ownership of the mansion and all of its ghosts and secrets.

 But some guests should be lucky enough to get away with their lives...

[travelingue]

Birmingham's bad baronets: the unedifying story of Aston Hall

Aston Hall is an English country house with a difference. First, it's not in the country at all, but wedged between Birmingham's bleak ring road and the city centre.

And you can park right outside the gate for free – it’s not like those National Trust or English Heritage car parks that charge extortionate rates to non-members.

That is because Aston Hall, unlike most other grand houses in Britain, is run by a public body rather than a private charity. Its owner is the Birmingham City Council.

The difference is even more palpable inside.  At the reception, you're met with bored-looking municipal workers.  As you go from room to room, the information is not provided by eager, middle-aged volunteers but by sombre explanatory panels.

And their chief purpose is to expose the sins of the aristocrats who once lived here, the Holte family.

From a panel entitled "Who were the Holtes?" we learn that in the late Middle Ages they "gained an income from rents and the natural resources found on their lands" and "increased their wealth and status by marrying into other important local families".

In other words, for centuries the Holtes claimed proprietary rights on both local pastures and the reproductive organs of their children and reinvested the proceeds into expelling more peasants.

The visitor is then introduced to the man who built Aston Hall, Sir Thomas Holte (1571-1654).

By the early 1600s, he had been knighted by James I and the family had manors across the region.  But none of that was enough for him: "Thomas wanted something newer, grander and more fashionable to fit his aspirations," we are told.

I was not surprised to learn in the next room that Tom had "a reputation for being aggressive, unflinching, and vindictive".

He once sued a neighbour, accusing him of "splitting his cook's head" (the Holtes regarded abusing staff as their exclusive privilege – more on this subject later).  He also "disinherited his son for marrying against his wishes".

A portrait in the Great Hall shows him to be every bit the imperious jerk he is described as.

One can easily imagine the dialogue between Thomas and his manager in 1611 when Thomas got a baronetcy.

"Congratulations, Sir!" "What are you blathering about?" "I understand King James has made you a baronet. You have arrived!" "Nonsense.  Do you know how I had to pay that lecherous spendthrift of a monarch to get this measly title?  I should be a peer of the realm by now.  But let’s not talk about it.  What is my useless son up to these days?" "Good news there, Sir.  Edward has decided to marry Elizabeth King." "The bishop's daughter?" "A very suitable match indeed!" "I didn't get my elder son a position in the royal household, at considerable expense, so he can marry into clergy.  I'm changing my will forthwith!  Get me my solicitor on the phone." "On the what?" "Do I have to do everything myself?  I am surrounded by IDIOTS."

Thomas's relations with the Stuart monarchy didn't improve when Charles I succeeded his father in 1625. 

The new king stuck up for young Edward who, he insisted, was doing a great job at court and had not married beneath his station.  This cut no ice with Thomas Holte, who still refused to allow his son to inherit his title or lands.

The Civil War of the 1640s was a catastrophe for the Holtes.  But it's difficult to feel sorry for the old baronet, who by then was in his 70s.

As the conflict between Crown and Parliamentary forces engulfed the Midlands, King Charles went to Aston Hall to check which side this awkward baronet was on.

Besides the giant chip on his shoulder, Tom had several reasons not to welcome his king with open arms.  The first was financial. The panel in King Charles' chamber summarises his predicament thus:

This is the room where King Charles I slept that on the night of 18th October 1642.  In August that year, Charles had declared war on Parliament and was now on his way south to London with an army of over 13,000 men.

Charles would have been given the use of a suite of rooms here at the Hall. He would have had courtiers, servants, carriages, carts, and horses with him, all of whom would have needed housing and feeding at great expense to Thomas. You could not say no to a visit from the king. It would have been both an honour and an imposition: it was not unknown for families to be bankrupted by the costs of a royal visit.

But the main reason for Holte's misgivings about the king's visit was pride.  He was struggling to find a replacement for his Stuart toady of a son - Tom had just married a woman 40 years his junior hoping that she would bear him a proper heir.

And now, after decades of disrespect, Charles had the nerve to come to him for support!  Of course there was no mention of a peerage.

Tom was damned if he was going to roll over.

Charles, never the most tactful of leaders, didn't help himself either.  Turning up with his retinue at Aston Hall, he said:  "Among the soldiers camped out there is your brave son Edward, who has been an impeccable court stalwart for years and is now laying down his life for his king. I have no doubt that the father will honour the family name in the same loyal fashion."

Thomas said: "I'll certainly think about it."

In the end– with his son lying dead on a battlefield and the Roundheads going after anyone remotely associated with Charles – Thomas reluctantly identified with the royal camp.  

Parliamentary forces swooped on Aston Hall in late 1643. The siege left deep scars.  A cannonball smashed through the banister on the Great Stairs and the damage is still visible.

The servants were caught up in the fighting, as the sign explains:

After three days of defending the house and trying to stay alive whilst shots fired all around, the Hall's inhabitants surrendered. The Parliamentarian soldiers entered the house and ransacked it. The repercussions of this event would affect the Holte family for several generations. They kept the damaged balustrade intact as a reminder of their role in the Civil Wars.

Sir Thomas emerged from the ordeal a broken man.  Parliament condfiscated his estates. In 1650 he was forced to pay a fortune to get them back.  By then he was pushing 80 and had given up on one last shot at fatherhood.

He was content to die at home, which he did in 1654. With all his sons dead, disinherited or both, the title and Hall went to his grandson Robert. 

The Holtes name was mud under Cromwell. But Robert does not seem to have fared particularly well either after the Stuarts were restored in 1660. 

It's unclear whether he had any activity besides gambling.  He died in 1679 "in considerable debt", the sign says.

There's a white sheep in every family.  Robert's son Charles (1649-1722) is the only baronet the curators have anything good to say about.

They describe him as "a man of wide intellectual interests including music, medicine, and philosophical research".

He was apparently good at financial management too: he paid off his father's debts and put the estate in order.  Charles Holte was happily married to a woman called Anne. "They had 12 children, and when Charles was away Anne wrote him long and affectionate letters."

Predictably, the next generation reverted to type.

The fourth baronet answered to the interesting name of Sir Clobery Holte (1681-1729). By the time he came into his inheritance, the estate was on a sound footing.  But that was more than you could say of Clobery's marriage.

He was a sad, tight-fisted git who chose a coquette for a wife.  Her name was Barbara.  They argued bitterly over what he regarded as her extravagance and ended up living apart.

Their two portraits suitably stand at opposite ends of the Drawing Room.

The fretting and fighting can't have done much for Clobery's blood pressure.  He died aged 48, but not before making his mother the guardian of his two sons.  Barbara was not allowed to look after them.

The elder, Lister, turned out to be a chip off the old block when it came to money.  The curators are eloquent on the subject:

In the 17th and 18th centuries the cooks in great houses were usually male, but in 1749 Sir Lister Holte was employing a female cook. Her yearly wage of £10 was lower than her male equivalents, but the same as Aston Hall's brewer.  Finances at Aston were very tightly managed and the cook was denied her customary right of being able to sell off the kitchen fat herself.

Another vivid illustration of the way the Holtes treated staff can be found in an attic room called "Dick's Garret".

Once again, I’ll let the Hall’s official historians tell the story:

Legend has it that it was named after a young boy named Dick who was one of Sir Thomas's servants. The story goes that one day Dick stole a piece of bread from the kitchen but was caught and locked in this attic until Thomas got home and could decide on his punishment. Stealing bread was a crime and Thomas was well-known for his vicious temper. Terrified about what might happen to him, Dick took his own life. His ghost is said to still wander these rooms.

But the custodians of the family's history reserve their sharpest barbs for Sarah Holte (née Newton, 1755-1794) who, we are told, inherited "forced labour camps" in Barbados. 

Her boudoir has been redecorated as a "Black girl's dressing room" to "highlight the Black female experience in modern society, emphasising the societal dehumanisation of Black women".

It features a poem commissioned from a young local poet, entitled "Black is Beautiful: Blackness without Apology".

Here is an excerpt:

Dear Lady Holt Hello Sarah Newton Aka Lady Holt But you are no lady, just a lady at fault Here we are in your previously owned boudoir I am a descent of the previously enslaved... I am here to confront your participation in the Atlantic Slave trade... Here I am a Black women taking up space in your own place I may have not been alive to put you in your place But I am here now on behalf of my race Surrounded by beautiful, Black faces No longer your possessions... Yet the chains of history challenges our every step So we are never truly free Micro-aggressions Suppression of self That stops us from being Black queens.

I’m not sure the Holtes deserved more stick than past residents of other grand houses in the country.  But I do know that if Aston Hall had been run by English Heritage or the National Trust, its story would have been told very differently.

The main insight I gained from our visit is that the difference in ethos and customer-relations that has often been observed between private and public provision extends to the cultural sector.

We were not consumers to be indulged, but pupils to be educated for our own good.  We might want to immerse ourselves in an imagined past but were going to get the warts-and-all version, whether we liked it or not.

After this bracing lesson, my wife and I were in need of refreshments and went to the Aston Hall café.  It was the middle of the afternoon and we were the only patrons.

Behind the counter, a young man was watching something on his phone with great interest; woman was sitting at the till, absorbed in some mysterious task.

I stood there for a minute or two, until the woman said: "Is there something I can help you with?" I asked for two lattes, and a scone to share.

Eventually the young man brought the order to our table. I could tell he had a lot of practice because he managed to balance the whole thing on a tray and serve it without taking is eyes off his phone.

[ghiessa]

Mambo n.5

[holocrypticocs]

some doomsday pixel art for you, primary and secondary characters!

[quartzcoffee5]

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[eagleghost20]

Trực Tiếp Bóng Đá

Kyrgyzstan Cú đánh đầu của Hồ Thanh Minh giúp Việt Nam hạ Myanmar 1-0, kết thúc vòng loại U23 châu Á 2022 với thành tích toàn thắng. 90minlà cộng đồng bóng đá lớn nhất thế giới với 11 ngôn ngữ khác nhau và với phương châm hướng đến 50 triệu fan túc cầu toàn thế giới. Sopcastnay có các phiên bản dành cho các máy tính hệ điều hànhWindows, MAC, ngoài ra còn có phiên bản dành chothiết bị di động Android. Là võ sĩ thi đấu đầu tiên trong ngày 7/12, Nguyễn Trần Duy Nhất đã không gặp might mắn khi để thua đối thủ người Pháp ngay trận đầu hạng 60kg. Hơn hết, các ngôi sao của PSG đang có dấu hiệu bất phục Pochettino. Khi ban huấn luyện và cầu thủ không tìm được tiếng nói chung, đó sẽ là thảm họa. Để xem được các trận đấu bóng đá lớn nhỏ trên thế giới và trong nước online được tường thuật ... Ngoài ra, LiveScore còn cung cấp cho mọi người những thông tin về thể thao mới nhất, giúp mọi người theo dõi những trận đấu mà mọi người quan tâm. LiveScore có thể được cài đặt trên cả hai nền tảng là Android và IOS. kiernan dewsbury-hall ấn nút theo dõi để có thể đồng hành cùng các đội tuyển mà các bạn yêu thích nhé. Sẽ thật thiếu sót nếu các bạn không biết đến ứng dụng này trên điện thoại di động. Từ ứng dụng FPT Play, người hâm mộ có thể trực tiếp xem được những trận đấu nhanh nhất. Do vậy, phần mềm được đánh giá là sử dụng đơn giản với hình ảnh, chất lượng HD sống động cùng với tốc độ nhanh nhất. Ngoài việc xem các kênh truyền hình số, xem video giải trí trên Smart TV hoàn toàn miễn phí thì người dùng phải chi ra một khoảng tiền không nhỏ để có thể xem các kênh bóng đá trên Smart tivi. Giúp người dùng cập nhật tin tức về trận đấu, thông tin trước mùa giải, các sự kiện bóng đá, các video clip hay, kết quả của toàn bộ những trận đấu đang diễn ra một cách nhanh chóng. michael olise CẢ hyperlink xem trực tiếp đều được cập nhật 2 TIẾNG trước khi trận đấu diễn ra. Ngoài ra, web site sẽ tường thuật trực tiếp bóng đá tất cả các trận đấu sizzling nhất trong ngày với những diễn biến hấp dẫn và video bàn thắng bản quyền. millwall đấu với crystal palace không cần phải theo dõi diễn biến trực tiếp trận đấu nhưng vẫn có thể biết kết quả nhờ phần mềm điện thoại. Sử dụng phần mềm xem bóng đá ngay trên điện thoại sẽ giúp bạn tận hưởng các trận đấu một cách tuyệt vời nhất mà không phải di chuyển đến bất cứ đâu. Đây là phần mềm ứng dụng giải trí với rất nhiều những kênh truyền hình HD, từng trận đấu bóng đá hấp dẫn, những bộ phim tương ứng với hình ảnh chất lượng cao. Đây được nhận định là ứng dụng xem bóng đá khá “được lòng” Fan hâm mộ bóng đá. (Đơn vị sở hữu bản quyền phát sóng trực tiếp bóng đá Ngoại hạng Anh). Đội tuyển Việt Nam tiếp tục cuộc đua giành quyền đi tiếp tại bảng G vòng loại World Cup 2022 khu vực châu Á bằng cuộc đối đầu Malaysia lúc 23h45 hôm nay 7/6. Trận đấu Việt Nam vs Malaysia được phát sóng trực tiếp trên VTV5 và VTV6. My K+làứng dụng xem truyền hình trực tuyếndành cho các khách hàng sử dụng gói cướcPremium+củatruyền hình K+. Những bạn nào đã đăng ký sử dụng gói cước này có thể xem truyền hình trên tivi, máy tính, laptop và cả điện thoại nữa.Phần mềm xem bóng đátrênAndroidnày được người sử dụng đánh giá rất cao. FlyTV là ứng dụng xem truyền hình miễn phí giúp bạn theo dõi các kênh tivi và radio đặc sắc trong và ngoài nước với chất lượng tốt và đường truyền nhanh, ổn định. Ngoài ra ứng dụng FlyTV còn giúp các bạn theo dõi các trận bóng đá trực tiếp ở tất cả các giải đấu hàng đầu thế giới. Hiện nay, điện thoại thông minh là một vật dụng không thể thiếu của mỗi chúng ta. Appnày cho phép người dùng xem 28 kênh trên K+ hoàn toàn miễn phí. Mọi người sẽ xem thỏa thích các giảiNgoại hạng Anh, La Liga… Những chương trình có bản quyền kèm theo chất lượng hình ảnh cóđộ nét chuẩn HD. Chính vì những ưu điểm đó nênphần mềm xem bóng đá K+trênAndroidsẽ đem đến cho các bạn những trải nghiệm bóng đá tuyệt vời nhất. Tương tự như VTV GO, VTV Giải trí cũng là ứng dụng xem phim truyền hình miễn phí, có thể xem Tivi trực tuyến hoặc xem lại dễ dàng, bất cứ lúc nào. Các bạn cùng xem cách tải và cài đặt VTV Giải trí trên điện thoại để cài VTV Giải Trí dễ dàng, xem phim, xem gameshow đặc sắc. Bóng đá radio là ứng dụng cho phép theo dõi trực tiếp các kênh radio bóng đá bằng cả tiếng Anh và tiếng Việt... Theo dõi kết quả, lịch thi đấu và bảng xếp hạng AFF Suzuki Cup 2021. Nhiều người hâm mộ bóng đá Việt Nam đang chờ đợi HLV Park Hang Seo sẽ đưa ra những toan tính thế nào về vấn đề nhân sự, khi “những chiến binh sao vàng” đối đầu với ĐT Lào tối ngày 6/12. (Trực tiếp bóng đá, ĐT Việt Nam - ĐT Lào, bảng B AFF Cup 2021) ĐT Việt Nam được hưởng quả phạt đền nhưng hậu vệ Văn Thanh đã thực hiện không thành công. Hỗ trợ truy cập được trên mọi thiết bị internet, laptop, máy tính bảng, điện thoại di động hệ iOS, Android, hay mở trang ngay trên Smart Tivi nếu muốn.

[divingplain1]

Lịch Thi Đấu Bóng Đá Hôm Nay Và Ngày Mai Mới Nhất 24h Qua

Nhân vật được chú ý ở trận El Clasico vào chủ nhật này sẽ là cầu thủ 18 tuổi Ansu Fati, tân số 10 của Barca. Và điều đáng nói là từ khi anh này trở lại là ghi bàn liên tục, góp phần cứu nguy cho Koeman. PSG mới chỉ phải nhận một thất bại và đã có đến 9 chiến thắng tại Ligue 1 năm nay. Với những gì đã làm được kể từ đầu mùa, đoàn quân của HLV Pochettino chắc chắn sẽ hướng đến một chiến thắng trên sân của đối th��. Viễn cảnh đó hoàn toàn có thể diễn ra khi West Ham sẽ phải tiếp đón đội đầu bảng Chelsea. HLV UAE tin Malaysia, Indonesia giấu bài, giả vờ thua ở giao hữu HLV Bert van Marwijk của đội tuyển UAE cho rằng những thất bại trong loạt đá giao hữu vừa qua đến từ Malaysia và Indonesia chỉ là lừa bịp. Dù chiến thắng 3-1 nhưng đội bóng của huấn luyện viên Tan Cheng Hoe gặp khó khăn trong việc kiểm soát bóng, đặc biệt là trước khả năng áp sát tốt của các cầu thủ Campuchia. Tại giải đấu năm nay, 12 đội nhất nhì của 6 bảng cùng 4 đội xếp thứ ba có thành tích tốt nhất sẽ giành vé vào vòng 1/8./. Tại vòng chung kết trên đất Colombia vào năm 2016, tuyển Futsal Việt Nam đã vượt qua vòng bảng với tư cách là 1 trong four đội xếp thứ 3 có thành tích tốt nhất. Indonesia sẽ bắt đầu chiến dịch AFF Cup 2021 khi gặp Campuchia, trận đấu họ được đánh giá cao hơn khả năng giành trọn vẹn 3 điểm. Các đối tượng chính sách đăng ký thường trú tại thành phố Hà Nội sẽ được hỗ trợ 2 triệu đồng/tháng/người đối với người sống tại khu vực nông thôn ... (Techz.vn) Không lâu sau khi được trình làng ở Thái Lan, Toyota Camry 2022 đã xuất hiện tại Việt Nam, chờ ngày quyết đấu với VinFast Lux A2.zero. Tại Italia, có rất nhiều cuộc đụng độ nảy lửa nhưng không gì có thể sánh được với cuộc chiến Juvetus - Inter Milan và chỉ có cặp đấu này đươc mệnh danh là derby d’Italia. Nhiều năm gắn bó với ngoại giao, Bộ trưởng Nguyễn Cơ Thạch đóng góp to lớn vào thắng lợi của đối ngoại Việt Nam, trong đó có đối ngoại nhân ... Những người gốc Ấn Độ đang nắm giữ nhiều vị trí quan trọng trong các công ty hàng đầu thế giới, cho thấy sức ảnh hưởng trên nhiều lĩnh vực. Quỷ đỏ quyết tâm tìm lại chiến thắng tại Premier League khi họ có chuyến làm khách đến Vicarage Road đối mặt với Watford ở vòng 12. VTV.vn - Chiều nay (7/12), ĐT Việt Nam đã trở lại sân tập để tiếp tục hướng tới mục tiêu kế tiếp trong hành trình bảo vệ ngôi vô địch tại AFF Suzuki Cup 2020. Trong khi đó, Saudi Arabia đã có trận hòa zero bàn thắng trên sân Australia và qua đó bảo toàn thành tích bất bại cũng như củng cố ngôi đầu trên BXH. Cập nhật mới nhất các link xem trực tiếp MU vs Watford vòng 12 Ngoại hạng Anh 22h ngày 20/11 trên tivi, điện thoại, máy tính, internet, website... Đội tuyển Việt Nam bước vào trận đấu gặp Lào với mục tiêu là giành chiến thắng để có bước chạy đà hoàn hảo trên hành trình bảo vệ ngôi vương tại AFF patrick vieira . Dù không thể giành chiến thắng đậm hơn nhưng dẫu sao, với chiến thắng 2-0 là đủ để đoàn quân của Huấn luyện viên Park Hang-seo tự tin hướng đến trận đấu quan trọng gặp Malaysia. Do đó, thầy trò HLV Tuchel không được phép sảy chân kể cả là một trận hòa trước West Ham. The Blues đang vô cùng tự tin hướng đến 3 điểm trong bối cảnh họ đã bất bại 11 trận liên tiếp trên mọi đấu trường. Theo đó, trận đấu trên sân nhà Mỹ Đình của tuyển Việt Nam tiếp đón ĐT Sadi Arabia sẽ diễn ra lúc 19 giờ ngày 16/11. Chúng tôi sẽ tiếp tục cập nhật link trực tiếp bóng đá các giải đấu khác để hướng đến mục tiêu giúp người hâm mộ có thể xem bóng đá trực tuyến nhiều các giải đấu. Tất Cả link đều được cập nhật ở lịch phát sóng bóng đá, link xem bóng đá trực tuyến khu vực này thì sẽ đầy đủ tất cả các trận từ lớn đến nhỏ từ bóng cỏ đến bóng to. Thượng đỉnh trực tuyến Mỹ-Nga sẽ diễn ra vào ngày 7/12, hai nhà lãnh đạo chắc chắn sẽ tập trung bàn luận vấn đề Ukraine. Tại Hội thảo, Trưởng đoàn Việt Nam đã chia sẻ kinh nghiệm, chính sách và nỗ lực hợp tác quốc tế của Việt Nam trong phòng chống biến đổi khí ... Bộ trưởng Nguyễn Cơ Thạch là một trong số ít các nhà lãnh đạo Việt Nam nhận ra cơ hội chấm dứt với mô hình chính sách đối ngoại cũ.

[hockeyshmockey]

Lance Stroll- Biggest Champion

summary: a moment between the oldest wolff and lance after some scary moments in Qatar. lance stroll x wolff reader

warnings: talk about the medical issues in qatar!

wc: 1.1k

“Papa,” you said worriedly as you say next to Toto in the Mercedes garage in Qatar. Since you had begun seeing Lance, throughout this season, the set up usually was you watching your boyfriend and friends race from the Mercedes garage and stepping out to see Lance pre and post race. Unless Chloe was in town where the two of you could be found giggling in the Aston garage, this seemed to work for the two of you.

That day in Qatar had been otherworldly hot. Lance had not been having the greatest weekend, taking ice baths every hour it seemed like and spending a lot of time in his drivers room trying to work through his frustrations. You had joined him some of the time, offering him silent comfort which seemed to be what he needed with all the pressure sitting on his shoulders.

As you and Toto stared at the screens showing several onboards and now sharing Logan’s voluntary retirement, your worry crept up for not only Lance, but your friends as well. A hand fell on your shoulder, squeezing to offer support as Lewis joined your little group. Carmen was standing off to the side with George’s trainer, chewing on her nail as she shared similar worries about her boy in the drivers seat.

“I really can’t believe this,” Lewis shook his head as Logan was wheeled into the Williams garage. “This is so dangerous. The FIA can't let this happen again.”

The group all watched as more and more drivers chimed in over the radios about not feeling well. Alonso pretty much asking his team to throw water over him on his last pit, which they couldn’t do. After another round of Max crossing the line first, finally some relief hit as the groups shoulders lifted knowing their final driver and friends would be getting out of the cars soon.

Watching the other team onboards which your father kept on a separate screen for your benefit, you winced as you watched Alex have to be assisted out of his car. Switching over to Lances, you watched as he sat in his car for a minute before trying to haul himself out. You felt slight relief as he made it from the car, leaning over by the tire for a second. But that relief was short lived.

As you saw him stumble, you gasped, hand covering your mouth as your father frowned, the two of you watching as Lance’s knees buckled and sent him fumbling into the door of the ambulance. Toto put a hand on your back as you both watched medical personnel approach the driver, before the feed was cut.

“Go,” Toto nodded as you looked on helplessly, taking no time before hightailing it from the Mercedes garage to the Aston Martin one down the row.

“Is he ok?” You asked breathlessly as you saw Lawrence and Lance's Engineer standing together with matching frowns.

“He had some trouble with the heat,” Lawrence said as he put a hand on your shoulder in sympathy. “He didn’t look too good getting out of the car but they took him right to the medical center.”

“Will they let us in?” You immediately asked.

“I’ve got to wait for Fernando,” Lawrence sighed, looking over at Ben and Henry. “I think they’ll let Henry in, you want to go with him and work that charm? Check on our boy?”

“I’m on it,” you smiled weakly as Henry nodded, leading you out of the garage to where he grabbed an Aston golf cart and drove you over to the medical center. Considering the state of the drivers, the usually calm area was a mad house with other team members, drivers, and some partners as well.

You followed Henry’s lead as he walked up to one of the track workers. The two spoke for a moment, Henry gesturing over his shoulder to you. As the worker saw you wringing your hands and the clear worry on your face, her own expression softened and she nodded before pointing down the hall.

You hurried after Henry, keeping up with his long strides as the two of you approached a curtained off area. Henry peeked his head in before pulling back the sheets, showing your boyfriend sitting on the bed in no shirt and just his fire proof bottoms.

“Hey mate,” Henry said as he approached the bed, clapping Lances shoulder as the boy smiled up at him tiredly. “Boss man couldn’t get away but wanted us to make sure to come check on ya.”

“I’m alright,” Lance said, his words slightly slurred with exhaustion as he looked past Henry towards you. He reached out a hand, you immediately rushing over to grab it in both of yours. “Just exhausted. They’ve got me on some fluids right now.”

“Some good rest and food will get you right,” Henry squeezed his shoulder before looking back at you. “We’ll I’ll leave you and report back to Lawrence. You both should be able to get back to the garage but if not give me a shout, I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you Henry,” you said softly as he smiled at the both of you before heading back out the way he came. You took a long second now that you were alone to let your eyes take in all of Lance’s face- skin sweaty, eyes tired.

“I really am ok,” he murmured, cupping your cheek as he saw the unshed tears on your lash line. You nuzzled in to his touch, letting out a sigh as you felt some of the weight on your shoulders lift just having him in front of you.

“I’m glad, it was scary out there,” you rasped out, looking at him once more. “A few other guys apparently passed out in the mc post race.”

“God this should’ve never happened,” Lance shook his head. Any further talking was put on pause as a nurse shuffled in, taking stock of Lances IV drip and telling him he would still be here for another hour or so for observation.

“I know I wasn’t at my best this weekend,” Lance admitted thickly. “And I’ve got some apologies to make. But being in the car, feeling like I could’ve gone off at any moment. All I could think about was getting back to you. And telling you how much I adore you, and that I don’t say it enough, but I’m really thankful for you and everything you do for me.”

“Oh schatz,” you said as you leaned in teary eyed again, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re doing your best. Your frustration is something everyone understands, we just need to find better ways for you to express it. There is nothing I would change about you. I love you and I love being your biggest champion. There’s no getting rid of me.”

“I love you,” he smiled tiredly, pursing his lips with a pout till you rolled your eyes and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.

[jellycrusher]

Wolves and Lambs: Part 4

Alpha Max Verstappen x Omega fem!driver

Genre: Series, Omega verse, Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Eventual smut

Summary: Male Alphas are the ones who dominate motor sports all around the world, especially Formula 1. It is a well known fact. Females in general nor Female Omegas are never heard nor encouraged to join the sport since the 1950s. Well, up until now...

Word Count: 5.8k

Chapter's Premise: y/n finds herself trying to come to terms on who she is and how she avoided her heat for so long.

Parts: W&L masterlist / general masterlist

"You heard the doctor. You have to stop taking your suppressants for a while." Megan takes the prescription sheet from your hands and shoves it in her bag.

Both of you just came out from the doctor's office. Megan was meticulous in giving you a disguise just in case anyone is going to spot you. You put your head down and hide in your little canopy of protection, your Aston Martin hat. A bit obvious but it's the only one you have at the moment.

"I can't. If it comes during a race weekend, I'm dead." You reply as you walk side by side with Megan, confined by the hospital walls.

"Ay Dios Mio. Your constant intake of suppressants may be the reason why you haven't had your first heat yet at 25 years old. We don't know if there's gonna be negative side effects on your health." Megan tries her best to whisper under her breath.

"Hey, that's not proven." You halt in your steps and turn to her, lifting your head up to face her.

"But the doc says it may be a factor. You can't keep it hidden forever. It has to come sooner or later. If it comes biting your ass, don't come running to me for help."

"I don't want to be confined on what biology or society dictates me to be. I want to prove to everyone first what I can do and who I am." You continue to walk.

"I understand. I just don't want something bad to happen to you." She groaned.

"Fine. If I win a race, then i'll start tapering my dosage. I'll let it come when it wants to come."

"When you win a podium, not a race. Better odds."

"Fine. A podium."

You felt like you've been basking in the sun, warm against your skin. You didn't want to look at yourself. For every second after that encounter in the elevator until now that you've stayed frozen behind the door of your room, everything was silent.

Your body was fighting your mind. You didn't want this. For so many years, your family and friends, who knew what you really are, told you that we're all bound to meet our mate. We'll know when we meet them.

No. You don't want to. Maybe just not right now. Yes, it's romantic to see couples who are mated and are having the time of their lives. But what if they fell for another person before they met their mate? And what if they refuse their Alpha? What would happen?

Right now, you just want to succeed in this career first. Call yourself stupid for going against your biological desires but there's a lot riding on this. Your parents sacrificed a lot just to get where you are right now. You want to prove that Omegas can also achieve greatness. Female Omegas can also stand in the halls of the greats.

Maybe you're just stubborn. Meeting your mate wouldn't be the end of the world. If you give in, you won't lose anything. Maybe.

Maybe you're just overthinking. Maybe you're being too stubborn.

Max is not a bad person. You've said it yourself before. He is actually a decent guy. Well, just from your text messages but there were no deep conversations yet. You don't love him to see him as your mate. You might learn to love him but it doesn't feel right for your feelings to be swayed just because your biological desires him so.

You barely slept a wink last night. The inkling that bothered you for a few weeks now since the first race have just been confirmed, and the fact that Max left you a lot of messages that you haven't read yet made your mind in a state of disarray.

Megan barged in your room to wake you up. She even had to throw the covers off the bed and furiously opened the curtains, blinding you with the beaming sun. You groan hard as she pulls you out of the comfort of your bed.

"I can't believe this. We're late! Ay Santo Dios..." Megan continued to mention a lot of words that you were not familiar with as she looks at your commitments for the day from her phone screen.

It only took a few moments and the both of you are now on your merry way to the circuit with you being the driver. Megan was still very furious at you for you haven't given her a reason for your tardiness. At the same time, your phone was still blowing up from Max's messages.

"I've had it with your ringtone. I'll set it to silent." Megan pulls your phone from the center console and sees '50 messages' beside the name 'He Who Must Be Avoided At All Times' on the screen.

"It's fine, leave it." You're barely able to look at Megan because you had to focus on the road.

"Who's this? Is there a guy bothering you? Stalking you?!" she asks.

"No. Just leave it." With eyes still glued to the road, you try to yank the phone off her hands.

"Tell me. Is it a stalker?! 'Cause if it is, i'll kill him." She warned.

"Please no. Relax, it's not a stalker." You assured in a calm tone as she hands the phone to you.

"Y/N. If you're in a dangerous situation and you're not telling me, your mom will kill me." She appealed.

Well, that's not impossible. These two are overprotective.

"Megan..." You paused. Megan patiently waits for your answer as you drum your fingers anxiously on the wheel. "It's Max."

"Oh, Max... Wait, who's Max? from Red Bull?" Megan rambles. "Why? Did he do anything to you?"

"He did nothing. It's just.. He found out last night that I was an Omega. I've been avoiding his texts since then." You confessed, tightening your grip on the wheel.

"How? You were always careful."

"That's the thing. I was. I'm still on my suppressants." You gently scratch the surface of the wheel. "Remember when you told me how you met your husband? Your mate?"

"Yes." Megan now replied slowly, now under a notion at where the conversation is going. "Oh my god! Is he..?"

"I think so." you confessed.

Megan was about to shriek from joy but she stopped for she knew how you would respond. For her, it sounds romantic. For you, it's not. She can't count how many times your rejected the idea of having a biological mate. It wasn't against the law of anybody to love somebody else aside your fated mate but for your body to act against your will regardless of what you feel. That's what you dislike about it.

"I still have to talk to him about it. I can't have him blabbering to everyone on the grid." You added. "Let's take this one step at a time."

"You still have a race later. Better focus on that first." She replies as she takes off her seatbelt when you arrived at the car park in the circuit.

Megan hauled you to the team hospitality to prepare you for the drivers' briefing. When you arrived at the briefing hall, majority of the drivers were already seated and the team principals were standing around in a circle, chatting. You stood by the door looking for an empty seat to take when you saw Charles, Oscar, and Lando calling you to take the seat they reserved for you on the third row. Your feet took a few steps when a hand suddenly but gently caught your wrist.

"We need to talk. You've been ignoring my texts." Max urged, eyes dead straight at you.

"Max, not here. Later." You scan the room for any eyes or ears that might eavesdrop as you carefully remove his hand from you.

Max takes a second to compose himself then tugs his hand through his hair. "Fine. Sit with me then."

"I'll choose my own seat. Thank you." You replied as you walk away from him, not giving him enough time to add more. Max's hand hovered uncertainly as if to stop you but he lets his hand limp

You strut farther into the hall and the three men gave you space to stride along the third row to take your seat between Charles and Oscar. Max took an empty seat on the first row beside Checo. He can't help but steal some glances in your direction during the driver's briefing.

It was hard to ignore Max as well. One good thing that your incident with Max has caused is that his scent doesn't make you cower in fear anymore. Knowing the reason why the dynamics between the two of you had changed, you mentally slap your pheromone-disturbed self from inhaling his lingering scent.

His scent wasn't really distinct before. For you, it was associated with fear or something menacing, but now he smelled so crisp like Cotton and sweet like baked Tangerine. Being that close to each other gave you a chance to actually distinguish his scent. Just remembering Max's small sniffs on your neck makes your body squirm, in a good way. It was nice and comforting. But it also felt sensual.

Alpha smells so good. Let's smell him once more. You mentally slap yourself once more, shaking off the tiny voice from your inner Omega in your head.

"I heard from Lance that you're moving. Where will you stay?" Charles' voice took you out from your trance just as the drivers' briefing just ended.

"In Monaco. It being a tax-free haven sounds enticing." you replied in glee knowing that it was the Monegasque who asked you.

Noticing the other younger drivers to turn to you after hearing your response, it took a moment for you to remember that a number of them were living there.

Lando perks up, legs bouncing. He leans forward and peeked his head across Oscar. "Do you know how to play Padel?" you shake your head. "We'll teach you. We had been waiting for another member to join our little club."

"He just wants to have the bragging right when he defeats all of us." Oscar chuckled, arms crossed on his chest.

"He even almost made Max cry. Have some mercy on all of us, will you?" Charles adds, further teasing Lando.

"I'll tell you when I've settled in. Maybe a housewarming lunch or dinner sounds good?" You ask. Lando quickly taps Alex's shoulder to tell him about your new residence and a possibility of a new member for their F1 drivers-exclusive Padel Club.

"I'm going to tour you to some of the best places. You still owe me a car ride." Charles couldn't help but smile at you, already making up a list in his mind.

When the briefing ended, all of the drivers went their own way back to their hospitalities. At the corner of your eyes, you saw Max hurriedly stood up from his seat on the first row and was about to make his way towards you. He noticed the miniscule squirm your body did when your eyes met. You almost panic in your seat but he came to an abrupt stop when he saw Megan pull you away.

Max tried his best to look for a chance to talk to you, much to his dismay. There wasn't much time for each of the drivers to get to interact with each other, especially during race day. After some of his media commitments in the morning were done, he went to visit the Aston Martin hospitality. He comes up to the small ledge when he saw Lance chatting with some of the staff.

"Hey Lance." Lance gets up from his seat when he noticed Max and greets him with a one-armed hug and a double backslap. "Have you seen y/n?"

"I think Sky Sports has her for an interview, I think. You know, the usual." Lance replies as he sits down. Max groans go unnoticed.

"Do you know when she might be free? I need to talk to her." Max asks as he leans his hand on the ledge.

"Maybe after the race? Her schedule's so full today. Haven't even seen her stay here in the hospitality for more than 15 minutes. Megan even got her shooting a lot of content for our Tiktok account."

"Megan?" Max quirks up his eyebrow.

"Speaking of..." Lance chimed in as he spots Megan behind Max, about to walk inside. "Megan!" She stops and turns to Lance's direction. "He's looking for y/n." He points at Max and Megan's eyes follow.

Megan thought differently when she saw Max right there, comfortably leaning on the ledge. It was in her overprotective instinct to assume that Max might possibly be a snitch or asking anyone in the team regarding what you are. She walks up to Max and asked him to come with her, already walking away without waiting for a response. Max was confused at first but did not hesitate to follow behind.

Max and Megan comes to a halt in an empty corner in the paddock, away from prying eyes.

"What are you doing?" Megan snaps around and narrows her eyes at him, arms crossed on her chest.

"I was just asking for y/n." Max innocently confessed.

"Were you going to tell on her? I can't believe you." She leans forward as if interrogating the driver.

Max leans back, baffled by the sudden change in demeanor. "No. Of course not... Wait, you know?" He tries to whisper.

She tries to examine his face for a minute for any sign of a lie but relaxes when she felt that he was telling the truth. "Listen, Max. I know she's been avoiding you but I need her to be at her best today. She needs to be on that podium."

"Don't we all?" Max scoffs.

"No, you don't understand. I need her to be on the podium because her health is on the line. I've let her be stubborn for too long 'cause she's in love with racing too much but I finally had her to agree, at last. I don't know what's going on between the two of you but please don't distract her too much today." She pleads with a serious tone.

Max hated knowing that it wasn't his place to pry. All he wanted from you was answers but it seems that even more questions are piling up. What does she mean? Your health is on the line? Are you sick? Are you injured? How is it connected to you getting that podium?

His inner Alpha was trying to fight himself.

Our omega... She's hurt or sick. Ask for more information. No, we're clearly told to stay put. She's not ours. Isn't it clear that she's avoiding us? Than ask her directly. Let's smell her again. No. Just shut up. Stay.

"Understood?" Megan asserts herself, taking Max out of his trance.

"Yes ma'am."

Megan waited for a bit to see how Max would take their conversation but left quickly when she saw that people are now starting to crowd the paddock. Max stayed in that quiet corner for a few seconds before going out into the paddock. There he saw you, sitting just outside your team's hospitality with Alonso and surrounded by a few cameras and staff. Probably completing a challenge with your teammate. His eyes locked onto you, taking in your smile. It was invigorating for him to see you having fun.

He used to feel so foreign around you. When he sees you having fun with his friends, it irritated him. His face used to turn sour when Lando or Alex hype you up.

There was something about you that intrigues him. You weren't able to race with most of them back then. Charles was a bit familiar with you because you got to race alongside his brother. Oscar and Logan had only met you once or twice and they had raced with you in a few Grand Prix but usually a lot of drivers keep to themselves and stayed in their own garages.

Then there's the big elephant in the room. You were an Omega, no doubt. After the incident in the elevator, he did scour the internet after his haze faded when he got back in his room. There were only articles about you stating that you were an Alpha, your achievements in F2 and F3, and also the highlights of your racing career. No scandals, not much haters. There were no articles claiming you have a bad beef with any driver.

For a public personality, you kept pretty quiet. Maybe that's why no one has discovered your secret yet. But that would be an extreme feat. To conceal your identity. What about heats? The horrendous and taxing schedule of Formula 1 isn't really ideal for Omegas. He recalled when Lando had to deal with Oscar's heat every month. When they were still unmated, Lando had to tiptoe around Oscar and avoid him when his pheromones were on the highest setting. How the other drivers reacted to him when it came around race weekend. It took them at least 5 months to come to the truth that they needed each other.

It was a bit easier for Oscar because everyone knows that he is an Omega since the start. They knew they had to avoid him when Lando or Oscar gave them a heads up. It scares him thinking that it will be much harder for you but it was also amazing how good you hide it.

Questions for another day, he admits to himself.

You were having a blast going against Nando in a PR competition when you spot Max walking through the paddock. Your eyes met and it made you nervous that he might come up and wait for you but no, he avoided your eyes and continued to walk. Your eyes followed his figure, relieved but also worried. Fernando had to call your attention to continue the challenge.

Your PR and media commitments were finally done and then, there was the driver's parade. The crowds in the grandstands were almost full and it was deafening. Everyone was screaming each of the drivers' names when they were called and when it was your turn to be introduced, it was heartwarming to hear their warm welcome. A smile so wide painted your face as you greet the driver while stepping in the convertible car and sat on the surface of the rear end near the deck lid.

You waited for your car's cue to go but you see it got delayed. There were a slight commotion amongst the staff that were on standby on the track and they were pointing to something behind you. You turn around and they were checking the car behind yours that was supposed to be for Max. Apparently, the engine of his parade car won't start again.

Fernando's car already left way before you and also Checo's. The staff are now pointing at yours and you see that the people who were talking to Max assisted him to get off the car. They were ushering him to your direction. Someone slapped Max's car number onto the side of your convertible. You now realize that they're letting you and Max share a car so that this problem won't delay the program.

The car shook slightly as Max climbs up the convertible. Max sees you scooting to one side trying to avoid his eyes so he quietly sat down on the other side of the convertible's rear. Both of you started to wave to the crowd as the engine of the convertible purred. Max would steal a few glances when you're not looking. Your body was stiff and awkward, in contrast to what you were showing the crowd, smiling and waving.

"Relax. It's not like I bite." Max spoke up just loud enough for you to hear under all those noise. "Just concentrate on the race later or else, you'll be an easy target for these guys."

You snap your head around and glared at him. He had this smug smile while still waving. "They wish." You scoff.

With just a few words from him, you find your shoulders loosening up. Slightly offended by his insinuation but you knew that he was just riling you up. It was also surprising that Max didn't bother to disturb you since the briefing. You would be at shoulder's length but still, he'd just nod when your eyes met.

The drivers' parade ended quickly and every driver headed for their respective garages to prepare. You spent the remaining time training with your physio and getting enough rest. The last program was for the national anthem. You make your way onto the track and answered a few questions for a Sky Sports presenter who was roaming and interviewing some of the drivers. You stood behind a grid kid to take your place and kept quiet. Right before the anthem was played, you noticed the female grid kid trying to steal a look at you. You smile back at her and she quietly squealed as she swiftly face in front. When the anthem finished playing and as you follow the other drivers exiting the track, your grid kid raised her hand to request for a high five. You gladly pressed your palm on hers and the other grid kids also eagerly raised their hand as you pass by them, catching the attention of the other drivers and the cameras.

You find yourself gritting your teeth and hands clenching the wheel as you drive the car in your grid position at the track during the formation lap. You look up at the red lights above.

"It's lights out and away we go, here at the Jeddah Corniche Circuit! and it's Max Verstappen who takes the lead of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix."

With a good reaction time, you were able to overtake three places from 15th. You were able to fend for your position well in those crucial first few laps of the race. You attacked, you defended, you attacked, you defended. It was a constant cycle.

Max, who had started in pole position, lost the lead to Charles on the third sector in the second lap, won it back by the fourth lap and slowly and methodically pulled away for his second win of the season.

It took you only eight laps to move into 10th place, and only eight more to rise to sixth. By the halfway point of the race, and helped by the fortuitous arrival of a safety car that allowed you to make up even more ground, you find yourself in fourth.

"Y/n had played down her chances of victory from the moment a broken drive shaft ended her qualifying early Saturday and left her in 15th place. But that did not mean she had any intention of staying in the back of the field. Look at her picking her way through the pack behind her with ease"

Your driving style was aggressive and clever, a total beast on the offence. The journalists have also made note of your tyre preservation prowess. They have published a few articles after the first race mentioning that with your pairing with Alonso this year, Aston Martin can gain considerable confidence that it will be regularly able to take on the red cars and the black ones fielded by Mercedes too.

At around lap 46, Ben informs you through the radio that Lewis who is in P3 at the moment incurred a 5 second penalty. With Charles on P2 just 2 seconds ahead of Lewis and you tailing behind just a second away, there might be a chance for you to end up on the podium at the end of this race. You just have to maintain the gap behind Lewis and also for Lewis to continue battling with Charles.

Ben: "So, one more lap y/n, just bring it home." Y/N: "Think something happened to my left tyre." Ben: "Ok, copy. So Sainz, 30 seconds behind, battling with Russell."

You peek at your front left tyre and it was starting to wobble. You may have hit something on the track, possibly puncturing the tyre.

Ben: "If you go Diff-Mid 12, Sainz 20 seconds and gap to Lewis is 2 seconds." Ben: "Now 17 seconds. Now 16 seconds."

The car was already slowing down and the left tyre was tumbling around on its rim. Ben was constantly updating you but you did not bother to respond.

Ben: "So use Strat 5. 10 seconds to Sainz and 3 seconds from Lewis." Ben: "7 seconds to Sainz. 6 seconds to Sainz." Ben: "Maintain this gap to Lewis. 4 seconds."

You've passed the last corner and about to go on the straight where the chequered flag should be when you saw Sainz closely tailing behind you. With your feet instinctively pushing flat out, your car zoomed past and hopefully closing the gap with Lewis in less than 5 seconds for P3 position.

Y/N: "Do we have it?! TELL ME BEN, DO WE HAVE IT??" Ben: "That's it, y/n! You've done it, P3! YOU'VE DONE IT! Wow, you've done it y/n." Y/N: "Was there a flag? I did not see it." Ben: "There was a flag. You've done it though. Just stop. You can pull the car over. We'll come and get you." Y/N: "Fuck that was close! Sorry for the profanity." Ben: "Yeah, I was about to say the same thing. That was a close call. Too close for comfort. But awesome work, mate." Y/N: "LET'S GO!!!!! BEN, WE DID IT!!!"

Your team radio is now being broadcasted across all tv screens worldwide. As Max and the other drivers complete their slow lap around the track after they've crossed the line, they catch a glimpse of you in the screens. Throwing your hands in celebration, still inside the cockpit. When you got out of the car at the side of the track, you knelt down and pats the damaged tyre aggressively as if thanking the car.

You had to do your best as not to cry from overwhelming joy. You felt like you won the race for P3 but you didn't. It was as if you were soaring through the clouds right then. The crowds at the grandstands were screaming your name, fireworks were setting off in the background. That was for Max, of course, but it couldn't hurt to imagine that it could be for you too.

You were picked up by a safety car and your car was towed to the parc ferme. When you got out of the car, Oscar jumped at the moment to wrap you in a hug, Lando following behind.

Warm and sincere congratulations, pats on the backs and helmet taps too, were sent over your way when you threw yourself to your team of mechanics and engineers who were waiting on the other side of the barricade. You took off your helmet and balaclava so you could properly breathe and to revel in the sounds of your victory.

You were the first one who had to do the post-race interview, followed by Charles in P2 and Max in P1. You couldn't contain your smile, choking on your words yet again.

"Y/n!" David Coulthard calls out your name in joy. "That was an amazing race. You had your maiden pole last race and now, your maiden F1 podium after just 2 races in this season. Could you tell me more?"

"With the information of Lewis' 5 second penalty, I had to give everything on the table. I've never had a race like that before. We tried to maintain the gap but also had to monitor Carlos behind as well. It was a team effort and I couldn't have done it without them."

"Your last lap had us trembling in our seats. You managed to bring home your car across the line in that state. How did you do it?" David asked with such enthusiasm.

"I don't know how I've managed to be cool in that period but I just... I had no choice. Survival instincts came over me and I've come all this way. I'm not gonna pull over and back off to let anyone drive pass. I was thinking 'How can I get there with taking as much risks as possible without losing the car altogether?'. I still can't believe I did it." You try to take a few deep breaths after you finished your interview, still reeling in from that feeling of accomplishment.

Max and Charles pats your back as the three of you walked towards the cooldown room. The huge screen showing the highlights of the race, including your tyre mishap and struggle to cross the finish line for P3. Charles hands you a water bottle and you took it, not peeling your eyes away from the screen. If you only had your phone, you would take a photo of the small pillar with a huge number 3 and a small screen playing your driver intro bit.

The three of you are now ushered to prepare for the podium ceremony. Your feet was quick to move after your name was called. The crowd roared with applause and cheers as you made your way up the podium. You stood patiently on your step as you hear Charles' and Max's name. Despite feeling a bit flushed due to the adrenaline from winning P3, your cheeks felt a bit cold as you place your hands on the side of your face.

Your race suit now wet from the champagne being sprayed amongst the podium placers. Charles and Max were having fun targeting you, spraying the champagne at your face. They both admired your blissful smile and eyes filled with euphoria.

"Champagne suits you. Congratulations y/n!" Max can't help but admit to himself that you were an excellent racer. Your expression softened when you heard him and it's like Max's heart skipped a beat.

"Thanks Max. Congratulations on winning!" As if the champagne rain slowed down, it was just you and Max. The stage lights made the champagne sparkle, trickling down on both of you. He never saw anyone be so ecstatic in getting P3 but you made celebrating look so beautiful and graceful.

You watched Max's face as he shared a smile with you but not a second later, you could clearly see the horror in his face as his body stiffen.

"Y/n, your nose." Charles cocks his head to the side of Max, inconspicuously pointing to his nose, prompting you to do the same. Your hand crept up to your face and it was met by a warm liquid oozing down your nose. When you swiped it off, you saw blood on your fingertips.

Max was quick to turn you around, shielding you from the cameras. You try to wipe your nose with your arm but the blood can't seem to stop.

"Are you okay? What's wrong? Do you want us to call the medics?" Max whispers in panic, still spraying the champagne at Charles and towards the crowd below as he shields you behind him. To the people below and in the crowd, it was as if you're just wiping the champagne off your face.

"Relax. It's just a nosebleed. This will pass." You whispered, still trying to wipe off the remaining blood. The sleeve of your green suit now tinted red. "What the heck, it's not stopping."

"Y/n, I think the cameramen are now noticing." Charles' eyes darted to the cameramen below and above.

"I've been a bit more anemic lately. I think that's why." You murmured.

"When Megan told me that your health is compromised, is this it?" Max leans to your side a bit, still facing front and waving to the crowd.

"You talked to her? What did she tell you?!" You glared at Max, surprising the two men.

"Y/n, Max, can you two talk about it later? We're still on the podium." Charles cleared his throat.

You slightly nudged Max away from you, not noticed by the crowd, while you pinch your nose and cover your face. Max can't help but stare in concern at your figure. His inner Alpha wanting to carry you and rush to medic's tent.

Then the ceremony ended.

"Y/n, come on. I haven't told him much, I promise. I just told him to leave you alone that day." Megan pleaded as she follows you while carrying a large box filled with your household items.

You open the door to let Megan in but you avoid her eyes. She darts across the empty unit, footsteps echoing along the walls, to place the box labeled 'Kitchen Items' down on the floor. You sighed, accepting defeat, as you drop the huge bag of items that you were carrying.

"Fine, but next time, stop telling him unnecessary information."

"Hey, your health was not an unnecessary information. I'm just glad you're fine now. I told you that your prolonged use of suppressants will eventually bite you in the ass." She rambled.

"Yes, yes. You gotta stop scolding me. It's been like a thousand times already." You groaned. "I got the podium and I'm on a suppressant detox. Happy?"

"Yes. I'm working on your schedule just in case it came early." Megan skips across the unit and stopped near the door. "I'll get the last box. You can stay here just in case the delivery company calls through the intercom." She exits the unit after you nod your head.

The empty huge apartment unit was now filled with unopened boxes. There were no furnitures yet but the anticipation of decorating your new home is making you excited. Wood and cured paint scent filled the air. It was relaxing for you but after a while, it's actually nauseating so you open the door to the balcony.

Coldness of the elegant granite greeted your arms as you lean against it. Your apartment is located in a spot overlooking the marina where you can spot plentiful yachts. With just a soft breeze, you could almost smell the sea. Even with your eyes closed, you could vividly visualize the city below you from its sound. The hustle and bustle of Monaco.

Closing your eyes for a few seconds made you yawn. You are still recovering from that horrific anemic bout during the podium ceremony in the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. The team had to recommend you to a local hospital for a check up and was just given a prescription. You took a flight out the next day and went straight to "Moving Out" mode. It hasn't been two days since the race but here you are, renting a luxurious apartment in Monaco, about to live your best life.

"Looks like you could fit a head in your mouth." You heard a familiar warm voice coming from above your balcony. When you opened your eyes, there was someone peeking their head out of their balcony and looking down below at you, apparently still yawning. You closed your mouth in embarrassment.

"Max?!"

"Hi neighbor!"

Next part: Part 5

Taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @fanboyluvr @giffywiffy3408 @notyouraveragemochii @cmleitora @exotic-iris13 @topguncultleader @mirrorball-6 @barcelonaloverf1life @silscintilla @aquangxl @whyamireadingthis @imaddict

[gejo333]

An Unexpected Match VI

DILF/DBF Miguel O’Hara x Female Reader

Pt. 1 Pt. 7

Summary: You’ve been living with the O’Hara’s for a month and it’s been the perfect life. But your nerves of your secret relationship begin to worsen when it was Miguel’s turn to host the barbecue which would be the last one before it became too cold, meaning everyone would be there, causing drama to stir…

Hey guys, sorry for another late update. I’ve just had so much writing assignments that it’s caused some writers block. Sadly no smut in this chapter, I had writers block with that and I really wanted to get a chapter to you guys, cause I feel so bad for not updating as much, cause I know what it feels like to be on the reader’s side.

Haven’t looked this over yet so I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Wc: 4.1k

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A long sigh escapes from you as you exit the lecture hall of your last class of the day, as you couldn't  wait to enjoy a nice three day weekend. You almost lost your balance as Stephanie side tackled you with a hug. 

"Hey! What you doing for the rest of the day?"

"Miguel's going to pick me up for work in a few minutes and we're driving to Gabi's soccer match. Then nothing else." You walk across the street and stop at the pickup spot.

"Cute. You know I totally support and love that you moved in with Miguel almost a month ago. But we haven't gone out clubbing since. I miss dancing with my bestie." Stephanie pouts which makes you roll your eyes and chuckle. You look ahead and see a familiar black Aston Martin drive up which puts a giddy smile on your face.

"Damn girl. You've got it bad." Stephanie chuckled as she lightly elbowed you in the shoulder. The car pulled up right in front of the both of you.

"See you tomorrow Steph." You open the car door.

"For barbecue or clubbing?"

"Both." You say before saying goodbye and getting into the car.

"Hola, mi amor. How was your day?" Miguel smiled as he leaned over and gently took your chin, placing a sweet kiss to your lips.

"Hi Miggy. It was good. Glad the weeks over. How was work?" You happily return the kiss not before hearing a light tap on your car window as you see Stephanie smirking at you and mouthing the word, "love birds," before waving goodbye.

You chuckled from your best friends lack of maturity as Miguel drives off, headings towards the soccer fields.

"It wasn't bad. A bit stressful. Guess I shouldn't complain about it too much since you want to work there. The thought of that sounds like a dream come true." Miguel smirked as he squeezed your thigh that his hand was resting on.

"Get your dirty mind out of the gutter O'Hara." You lightly pinch his face from his comment, knowing exactly the thoughts circling his mind at the moment.

"No promises, hermosa." Miguel chuckled as his hand slipped higher up your thigh. Wearing a skirt today you knew his hand was only going to go further up your leg. Knowing it wasn't the right time you intertwined your hand in his.

After driving in a comfortable silence, saying something every once in a while about each others day, the car pulled into the soccer field parking lot. Miguel found a spot and turned off the car as he checked the time.

"Perfect. Got here a few minutes before it starts."

Before you got out of the car you noticed certain parents from the neighborhood sitting at the bleachers.

"Amor?" Miguel looked at you in concern from your sudden hesitation. His gaze followed the direction of your gaze finding the answer to your hesitation from exiting the car.

"I know the truth has to come out sooner than later. I just don't want to deal with the backlash. I don't care if my parents or the neighborhood might not approve. But I love you and Gabi. It's been so peaceful lately. I just don't want to disrupt it. I don't want this perfect bubble to pop." You look at Miguel as you still hold his hand. He smiles at you lovingly as he gently caresses you face before lifting your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

"I understand. I don't want it to end either. But we both know no matter the reaction we'll both feel better to be public about our relationship. Plus it's better to do it sooner than later. Your parents will be less upset. Hopefully." Miguel sighed as he got out of the car you following right after as you both walk over to the bleachers.

You both find a seat right as the whistle from the ref went off, initiating the the first half of the game. After a few minutes into the game Gabi noticed the two of you in the crowd as she happily waved before paying attention to the game.

As the game continued the entire time both you and Miguel were the biggest fans as you both loudly cheered for Gabi when she had the ball.

"Run Gabi run!! You got this!"

"Vamos Gabriella! ¡Eres mejor que todos los demás jugadores! ¡Esto es fácil para ti!" (Let's go Gabriella! you are better than all the other players! This is easy for you!)

Both you and Miguel cheered louder as Gabi neared the goal and scored the final point in the game before ref blew the final whistle.

"Great job Gabi!" You cheered as you watch Gabi and her teammates jump and run around in excitement. After the team settled down you and Miguel along with other parents left the bleachers to join the kids. The coach had brought cupcakes for the team. When Gabi noticed you and Miguel walking over she ran over, face covered in chocolate frosting from the cupcake she devoured.

"Y/n! Papa! Did you see my goal?!"

"We did princesa. It was amazing. Now come here my little messy soccer player." Miguel kneeled down as he grabbed a small pack of tissues and used one to wipe her face.

"Thank you, Papa!" Gabi gave him a toothy grin, with one tooth missing. You smiled at the sight. She really was the cutest thing on earth.

"Are you ready to go home Gabi?" You extend your hand to her, which she happily took as she skipped while the three of you walked back to the car.

"Yeah! Can I get a Happy Meal?" Gabi looked up at you with her puppy eyes which made your heart melt.

"Only if Papa says it's ok." You smiled down at her to which she turns towards Miguel. Miguel scratches the back of his neck as he smiles back at his daughter.

"Since you scored such an awesome goal and you've been good with eating your vegetables this week, we can get you one."

"Yay!"

After arriving home, preparing for the barbecue tomorrow, and eating dinner it was time for everyone to go to bed.

You sat, in your pj shorts and tank top, on your shared bed in the master bedroom with your textbooks and notes sprawled out on the bed.

"It looks like my work desk in here." Miguel chuckled as he walked in and closed the door. He walked over to the walk in closest to grab a pair of sweats. He then walked back over to the bed as he picked you up and sat you on his lap after he sat on the bed.

"Sorry, I'll clean it up soon. I have a biochem midterm in two weeks and I'm a little nervous about it." You grab some of your notes as you rest your back against Miguel's chest.

"I don't mind, hermosa. I was in the same exact boat when I was in college." Miguel brushed your hair to one side as he gently placed his lips against your neck, leaving small kisses up and down your neck.

"Even though it's been two years since our time in Miami. You still look like you're in your twenties." You chuckle as you switch out your notes for another pile on the bed.

"Keep talking like that and you won't be studying for that chem exam." Miguel chuckled as he continued to place his lips against your neck and shoulder as one of his hands went under your shirt and began to caress your breasts making a small moan escape your lips.

"Miggy nooo....I have to study. Maybe tomorrow night." You lean into his touch as he continues to caress you.

"I thought you were going dancing tomorrow night, hmm?" Miguel's tone showed a hint of annoyance. Not for you going out but the thought of other men seeing you all dressed up and trying to win their luck with you made his blood boil. Hearing the hint of jealousy, you turn your body to face him, now straddling his lap. Most definitely not the smartest idea when it comes to your perverted boyfriend.

"Stephanie really misses going out dancing. And I haven't been spending enough time with her lately. So I definitely owe her this one." You brush some of his curls back before leaving a sweet kiss on his lips. "But I'll give this night to you."

"Well I'll make sure it's worth your while." Miguel smirked as he grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up from his lap and pushing you down on the bed as he hovered over you.

....

The sweet kiss pressed to your forehead happily woke you from your slumber as your eyes met the reddish-brown hues that makes your heart swoon.

"Buenos días, cariño. I made you coffee." Miguel smiled lovingly as he places a cup of coffee on your bedside table.

"Thank you Miggy. What time is it? You're already up and dressed." You sat up as you happily took the coffee as the scent of caffeine was beginning to wake you up.

"It's only 8:30. You slept through your normal alarm but I thought you needed the rest since I kept you up really late last night. I'll be downstairs beginning to prep the food. See you downstairs." Miguel left you with a sweet kiss before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

After taking another sip you decided to get out of bed. You winced from feeling sore. Damn, Miguel really was rough last night. Not that your complaining but it probably wasn't the best day to hide a slight limp. And ugh, you were suppose to go out tonight with Stephanie. You got dressed and ready before heading downstairs to the kitchen where you saw sweet Gabi eating her colorful cereal while Miguel began preparing food for the barbecue

"Good Morning my Baby Bug." You gently comb your fingers through Gabi's hair as she gives you a big hug which you happily return. Moving to the other side of the kitchen with Miguel you give him a side hug and a kiss on the cheek before you begin helping with food preparations.

"Thank you for the help Amor." Miguel returned the kiss to your cheek as he continued to chop up vegetables.

The sound of the doorbell rang followed by a  deep voice yelling out for Miguel. If you didn't physically see Miguel standing right next to you, you almost would have thought it was him at the door.

"Dios mío ¿por qué está aquí a esta hora?"

(My god, why is he here at this hour?) Miguel groaned in frustration as he stopped his task, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Tío Gabi! Papa! Tío Gabi is here!" Gabi jumped in her seat excited before getting down and running to the front door.

"Gabi, no running." Miguel said but his words fell deaf to his daughter's ears as she went to open the door.

"Your brother?" you can't help but smile from your boyfriend's frustration which also annoyed him. He playfully sent you a glare before giving you a sweet kiss to the lips, as a loving warning to not go along with the antics.

You heard Gabi talking away in excitement about her past week to her uncle as they made it in to the kitchen. Following after a happy five year old was a tall man (not as tall as Miguel.) with the iconic O'Hara hair, eyes, and smile.

"So this is the famous Y/n, I've heard so much about. Mig is always talking about you. It's nice to put name to face." Gabriel gave you a hug before trying to give one to his brother which, Miguel only gave him a half-assed one in return.

"It's nice to meet you too Gabriel." You lightly glared at Miguel to give a proper hug to which he rolled his eyes and then gave his younger brother a hug.

"You can call me Gabe, you're family! Wish my brother would pop the question though and make it official." Gabe said happily as he took an apple from the bowl on the island. His comment made you blush, you understand now where Gabi gets her bright personality from.

"It's not even 9am yet. Why are you here so early?" Miguel said as he went back to prepping food, which you continued to help with. In between the two of you came Gabe as he quickly stole an empanada before Miguel could react. However, when he tried to steal another one Miguel snatched his wrist and sent him a glare to which he held his hand up in surrender.

"Can I have one?" You dramatically fluttered your eyes at Miguel to which he happily offered you one. "Thank you, honey." You kissed his cheek before taking a bite out of it.

"Hey, why the warmth for her and not me too?" Gabe whined. His smile returned when you snuck him another empanada. As he happily ate it. "Never mind. Mig she's a keeper."

Miguel looked back at the tray and to Gabe eating what seemed like a second empanada before lightly glaring out you. "Cariño, I thought you were on my side." He pouted to which you caressed his cheek.

"I'm always on your side Miguel. But he gave me the puppy eyes. I couldn't resist not giving him another one."

Gabi walked up and tugged on Miguel's pants to get his attention. "Papa can I have one?"

"Of course princesa. Here." Miguel gave her one and within seconds she handed it to her uncle.

"I can't trust anyone in this household anymore." Miguel huffed as he put tin foil over the food and put it on a shelf only he could reach.

"Aw, we all still love you. Right Gabi?" You wrap your arms around Miguel's waist. Gabi ran back and hugged both your and Miguel's legs before Miguel picked her up in one arm as you both give him a hug, placing a huge smile on his face. His happy family.

"The reason why I came early was to meet Y/n before you two have to pretend you aren't together at the barbecue." Gabe said as he finished is third empanada.

"What does Tío mean papa?" Asked Gabi, confused by his words.

"Do you remember when Papa and I told you to keep a secret about our relationship until we told you it was time?"

"Yeah. I don't like it."

"I know you don't like it princesa. We don't either. But we have to keep the secret at the barbecue too." Said Miguel as he continued to hold her in his arms.

"But why can't we tell people?"

"Well, some people might not be happy about your papa and I being together. And it's been such a happy and peaceful bubble that it's scary to pop that." Your heart started to crack from seeing Gabi's lips pout. You brushed some of her brown curls behind her ear. "Oh sweetie, it breaks my heart to see you sad. But I promise it won't be a secret for long."

Your words made her smile appear again as she lifted her tiny hand and tossed her pinky. "Pinky promise?"

You smiled as you hooked your pinky around hers. "Pinky promise."

After getting the rest of the food prepared and the backyard all set up, with the help of Gabe and a little bit from Gabi it was time from people to arrive for the barbecue. While setting up you and Miguel made sure nothing of yours in the main space was hidden away, you've done it a few times every time your father came over to hangout with Miguel.

As people from the neighborhood began to flood in, the background was filled with local gossip and music. It was hard not to gravitate to Miguel, but luckily you had many neighbors who were eager to catch up with you, most likely trying to hear the gossip about your argument with your parents.

"Hey! This barbecue is great! So many people are here. Best one this season." Stephanie hugged you when she spotted you.

"Hey! Probably because majority of the people here are the single mothers or wives who are flirts trying to get Miguel's attention." You rolled your eyes as your crossed your arms.

"Ooo someone's jealous. But no need to worry, cause that man is heads over heels in love with you." Whispered Stephanie which made your smile widen as you took a quick glance to see where Miguel was, talking to a random dad from Gabi's class. As if noticing your gaze he looked back at you, eyes and smile soften.

"Aww your so in love too. I've never seen you like this. It's so cute." Stephanie gave you another hug in excitement. You then heard a familiar female voice. As you turned in that direction you noticed your parents, walking straight in your direction.

"Hi sweetie." Said your mom. She stood by your father, but you knew she wanted to give you a hug.

"Hi."

"Honey, we've missed you so much these past few months. We feel so guilty for how we needed things. We... I mean I should have been supportive instead of taking Tyler's side and trying to keep you together. I just thought your were so happy together, but I realized I was wrong." Your mother said as she tried not to tear up.

"Its been a few months so I'm over it now. But I'm glad that you realized your mistake. And I'm admit I missed you both too." You hugged both your parents which made them both happy.

"We know you are living with Stephanie these passed few months. We can talk about you moving back later." Said your mom.

"Actually, Stephanie and I decided that we are going to be roommates. She has extra room so." You said, though you were living currently in the house your were in right now you weren't technically lying. You had lived with Stephanie.

"Oh, ok. Well, your mother and I hope to see you for dinner tomorrow?" Said your father. Though you wanted to, you and Miguel made plans with Gabi to go to the beach and spend the night up there since it was a three day weekend.

"I already have plans for the rest of the weekend but how about this coming Thursday for dinner?"

You suggested, which put a smile to your parents' faces.

"That works for us. Now where are those famous empanadas." Your dad said as he made his way to where Miguel was at the barbecue.

As you caught up with your mom and Stephanie, Gabi ran up to you.

"Hi Gabi, is everything alright?"

"Yeah! My friends and I  are playing tag, but my ponytail fell out. Can you braid my hair?" Asked Gabi as she helped up her green pony tail with a plastic flower on it.

"Of course I can. Do you want one or two braids?" You smile happily as you take the hair tie.

"Can I have two please?" Gabi held Theo fingers up as she answered you.

"Perfect. Without running can you go grab another ponytail for me?"

"Yep!" Gabi smiled up at you before speed walking inside the house followed by two of her friends.

"Your going to be a great mom, when the time comes. You're so good with Gabi. She loves you." Said your mom as she watched Gabi go inside the house.

"Yeah. When the time comes." You smile softly as you also watch her go inside. Little did your mom know that you unofficially adopted Gabi. You couldn't bare to have her or Miguel not in your life. It would break your heart.

Two minutes later Gabi came back outside and walked back to you, handing you the same style hair tie but in pink.

"Thank you." You began to braid her hair while talking with Gabi, Stephanie and your mom. After a few minutes you finished the braids. "All done." You smile as Gabi gently lift her braids, looking at them before smiling up at you.

"Thank you! It's perfect!" Gabi gave you a big hug which you happily returned.

"Of course." Your attention was turned towards someone calling out your name, loudly. Your eyes widen when you saw that voice came from Tyler, who was angrily walking towards you. "Gabi please go to your father." Out of instinct you gently move her behind you, to protect her from the angry man walking your way. As if she understood your words she quietly nodded before making her way to her dad.

"What are you doing here Tyler?"

"You're a fucking liar, bitch!" Tyler pointed a finger in your face as he yelled at you, spit flying everywhere his face red.

"Watch your language Tyler. There's children here." You argue back. "And can we please do this not in the middle of a neighborhood backyard?"

"Fuck no! You are a fucking whore and a cheating cunt!" Your eyes widen from his crude words.

"What's going on over here?" Miguel said as he walked over to your side.

"You! You're the asshole whose this slut is fucking!" Accused Tyler which made your eyes widen and a few people in the crowd gasp.

"For the last time Tyler, I'm his daughter's babysitter. He's a full time single father. He needs the help. Coming here and calling me names and false accusations is really low. You cheated on my Tyler. We're done. Let it go."

"You fucking liar." Tyler was about to hit you when Miguel stepped in front of you as he grabbed Tyler and went to throw him out of the house.

"The audacity of that man."

"He must have been drunk."

"How dare he make such accusations."

Whispers from the crowd echoed through the backyard until Miguel walked back in the backyard. "Sorry about that everyone. Go back to enjoying the food and drinks." After his words everyone listened, as the music came back on quieting the gossipy neighbors.

Your eyes widen you noticed Miguel's lip was split. Both your gazed made contact as you direct him to meet you inside in a few minutes. You leave to go inside, upstairs to the master bathroom as you get the first aid kit.

A few minutes later, Miguel walked in as he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you against him as he leans down to kiss your neck. A hiss came from him, obviously from his split lip. You turn around, still in his arms.

"I've been dying to hold you all day, amor. It's so hard not to be near you."

"I know. It's been hard for me too. But I need to fix that up. I can’t believe that asshole hit you. If I ever see him again, I will-“ You were interrupted by another sweet kiss to your lips. You pulled away as you lightly hit his chest. “Miguel…”

“I know I know. But I just can’t keep my self off of you.” He was about to kiss you again but instead you put your hand in-front of his lips before gesturing for him to sit on the bed. As he sat on the bed he grabbed you by surprise and had you straddle his lap.

“Miguel…”

“What? It will help you fix me up.” Miguel smirked as he kept you in a strong hold as you took some ointment and gently spread it on his lower lip before it dissolved. You kissed the top of his nose. “There all done. But I don’t think you should use those lips for a day, maybe two.”

“Amor, that’s torture. I’ll wait till everyone leaves. But not before I do this.”

Miguel was about to kiss you again but you easily blocked him with your finger, earning a frown from him. You then got off his lap.

“I’ll see you downstairs.” You wink at him before making your way down.

After sometime the barbecue began to die down and practically everyone was gone except for your older brother and Stephanie who helped clean up.

“You know what y/n. I’m going to have to reschedule our clubbing night, I’m exhausted from this evening. But I’ll snatch you away next Saturday.” Said Stephanie as she hugged you goodbye before walking out. Your older brother came up to you and gave you a hug which he rarely does.

“I think you two are great together. I’ll be there for you when you tell mom and dad.” He whispered with a smile before leaving and closing the door. Miguel walked up to you as he warped his arms around you in a loving embrace.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I think I’m getting closer to telling my parents about us.”

————————————————————————

Tag List

@felixthemochicat @pedr0swh0r3 @thel0velykey190 @myownsimp @angel-xx-1 @thedevax @cheezit-luv3rr @comicalbliss @rjreins @incustellar @ricekrisbris @marvelofcourse @ozzmodeus-main @s0fia4 @ghost-lantern @minalovesubabes @yume904 @shinyberry69 @freehentai @livytofine @rjasmine2021 @bigbassbug @tired-writer04 @brokvnszn @isastarall @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @cold-blooded-girls @ewan-tef @bammzyboomy @icedcoffeeisyummy @scaleniusrm @jojos-wife @jakelockleysdoll @iheartlinds @koteri @montyrokz @crimsonriot06-7 @p1nkliquor @pueduricany @I3laze @freeingrebels @facelessfionna @zoey5252 @jaxyy219 @pookiesnatcher @deputy-videogamer @migueloharastruelove @gr0vndz3ro @n1tingal3 @casuallyawkardd

[37sommz]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | SOCIAL MEDIA PROFILES.

NOW PLAYING: michaela's social media profiles [ig, twt, tiktok]. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀INSTAGRAM.

michaela's main account, misomms, is a carefully crafted, pr-team-controlled manifestation of her public persona. the account is filled with sponsored brand posts, glimpses into race prep at aston martin, and the occasional celebratory thirst trap. michaela herself spends very little time on her verified account, preferring to leave its management to her team while popping in occasionally on her story to offer quick anecdotes from her busy life.

her second account, sommerdaze, on the other hand, is personally managed by michaela. though the account was originally private to limit interaction to just michaela, her close friends, and family, she would open the account to the public shortly after lando debuted his photography page.

fans initially figured mickey was following in lando and daniel's steps with this account, but she cleared up that rumor pretty quickly with a petty "lando.jpg's cool older sister" update to her bio. aside from the more personal touch of her sommerdaze account, michaela also uses the account to troll the other drivers and soft launch her boyfriend.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀TWITTER.

michaela's sole twitter account is managed by her pr team. though she used to make personal tweets (some of which are in the f1 driver hall of fame) during the early parts of her career as a teenager, she hasn't touched her twitter since moving up to formula two. though she will occasionally log in to like a tweet or two, she's largely removed from the profile due to the negativity.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀TIKTOK.

michaela's tiktok is a brilliant blend of pr and personality posts. though her posting consistency comes and goes, every post has a personal touch and usually comes directly from michaela herself. most of her posts are photo slides, mini mukbangs featuring some of her friends, and a few trends orchestrated by jimmy and fully endorsed by fernando. her reposts are similarly personal with some recurring themes being edits of other drivers, videos she finds funny, and liverpool highlights.

✼. taglist:⠀@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar @d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah @pamacs-macs

[nico-di-genova]

In My Mind, You are Safe

Chapter 3

Alternate link to read on A03 Chapter 1 Chapter 2

“He knows?” Lance manages to ask the night after he wakes up, motioning with his head to his dad who slept snoring deeply on a leather couch in the lounge. “About us?”

“I did a bad job of keeping it secret.”

Lance thinks he maybe had too, what with the ass grabbing played as camaraderie and the way he couldn’t stop staring at Fernando during debriefs. His father wasn’t a dumb man, but rather a very observant one. He’d known Lance was smoking pot at fifteen not because of the bloodshot eyes and the smell, though those would have been the obvious giveaways, but because his reaction time during training took a hit.

‘If you’re going to smoke weed, you better do a damn better job of hiding it,’ He’d demanded.

Lance never touched the stuff again, he knew he’d get caught.

But with Fernando he thought he had maybe been a little better. They had rules about it. No kissing in the paddock, the garage, not even their drivers rooms unless it was a special circumstance – the circumstance always ending up being Fernando was needy and Lance was bored. They didn’t go to each other’s hotel rooms until it was late enough that no sane fucker would be wondering the halls. Nothing obvious could be left above the neckline, because Lance had already gotten looks from his father after the weekend on Fernando’s ugly yacht where they spent half the time naked and the other half sipping champagne. All those rules seem to have been thrown out the window the moment Lance ended up in intensive care.

Intensive Care

The word makes him shudder.

Fernando sees the movement and presses a kiss to Lance’s knuckles, “Cold?”

“Kinda.”

It’s not really a lie, the AC is set on Ice Box and he’s got nothing but a thin sheet, a stiff blanket, and bare legs beneath a hospital gown to protect him.

“Here,” Fernando pulls the Aston Martin sweatshirt from the back of his chair and helps work it over Lance’s head. It takes an extreme amount of maneuvering, and gentle tugging, and he can’t put one arm through the sleeve because of the IV in his hand. It kind of sucks at providing any actual warmth, but it smells like Fernando so that’s a comfort all on its own.

“Thanks,” He rasps.

“Of course, Lancito.”

“I missed you,” Lance blurts out, which doesn’t really make sense because he was just with Fernando in the paddock. Just with him in his driver’s room. But Lance also thinks he maybe remembers the dark. The emptiness. The distant voices that sounded like they were right beside him and yet a world away all at once. He thinks he remembers being scared.

“I missed you too. Stop talking, you will irritate your throat.”

Lance wants to make a joke about Fernando not wanting to hear him speak, but that would take too many words and he already kind of feels like he’s breathing around fire. Instead, he accepts the water Fernando offers him and sips slowly through the straw to draw out the soothing effect. He has to be careful with how much he drinks, and he can’t have solid foods yet, which Lance chalks up to normal post coma recovery, but might also have something to do with the abdomen injury as well.

He knows it’s serious because when he’d asked the doctor how long until he could get back to racing she hadn’t given him an answer. And Fernando couldn’t look him in the eye. They don’t lie to each other, brutal honesty has always been their forte. That, or steadfast avoidance.

“Careful,” Fernando chides when Lance sips too quick and chokes on the liquid, some of it escaping his mouth to dribble in a cool line down his chin.

Lance rolls his eyes. Fernando should be used to the sounds of his choking by now, he’s certainly gagged himself on worse than a few drops of water.

“Brat.”

Lance smiles around the straw, all innocence and fluttering eyelashes.

“You are lucky you’re in a hospital bed.”

Which, he isn’t, far from it, but for the moment things feel almost normal so he ignores the remark.

--------

There is an argument about who Lance will go home with.

Lance’s Switzerland apartment is out of the question, his agency being robbed by the injuries his body is still trying to adjust itself to. His dad knows he can afford better around the clock care, people to help Lance with everything from changing his bandages to holding his dick while he pisses. Fernando knows Lance doesn’t want that, knows the humiliation of it would probably kill him faster than his car in the wall should have. They don’t ask for Lance’s opinion on the matter though as he sits silently in the bed between them. Watching them fight for custody of him, it’s familiar, reminds him of being small and wondering if he was going to have to have two bedrooms after his parent’s divorce.

“He needs help Fernando. Doctors, nurses, staff – not just you.”

“I have taken care of him before. I know what he needs.”

Healing from a head wound and a piece of carbon fiber tearing through his body isn’t really the same as a cold, but Lance appreciates Fernando’s commitment. He doesn’t say this of course, because neither one of them seem to really notice he’s there, just continues sipping slowly from the cup in his hands and picking at the starched blanket over his lap. His throat doesn’t hurt anymore, swallowing doesn’t take as much effort.

“You think you know better than me? I’m his father,” his dad states. As if it needs stating. As if Lance wasn’t born with Lawrence’s name over his head and a silver coated thumb in his mouth. As if there were any injury out there that would make him forget who he belongs to, down to the blood and marrow of him, the very making.

“I am his-” Fernando pauses. They never really put a name to it. There hadn’t been much discussion about what he and Lance were before he started bleeding out in Fernando’s arms. Not that he would remember that of course, doesn’t remember much about barreling into the wall at top speed. The doctors say that’s probably for the better.

“Boyfriend?” Lance supplies helpfully around the straw in his mouth. He’s continuing his bad habit of gnawing on the plastic, the taste reminiscent of the tube he had woken up choking on, but also of the bottle he would carry around during race weekends.

Fernando motions at him appreciatively, “Yes. This. I am this.”

His dad’s scowl deepens, “This isn’t a fever and some rest. It’s physical therapy, cognitive therapy. He will need someone 24/7.”

He is sitting right here, and he doesn’t necessarily agree. Lance is needy in the same way a cat is, he craves attention only as long as it is wanted, too much and he will probably begin scratching at you. But there hasn’t been much in his control since he lost the wheel at Silverstone.

“Okay. I will do that.” There’s not a hint of hesitation in Fernando’s tone, when Lance knows there absolutely should be. Whatever unestablished thing is between them, it’s far from stable enough to rest Lance’s entire laundry list of medical issues on, or at least Lance thought it was.

“I can hire someone too, Lawrence,” Fernando pushes, “You are not the only man with money. Lance has not lived with you since he was a child, yes? He needs familiarity. Routine? That is not in your mansion. Let him come home.”

Home.

Is that what Fernando’s place is to him? Most of his memories there are the sort that speak less of a home and more of the flat you wake up in after a one-night stand. Strewn clothes and half-finished bottles of beer on the kitchen counter, The warm press of Fernando’s body along his bare back. Would he be healing on the same sheets they routinely fucked on? Propped up on the pillows that know the shape of his teeth?

Is home where you have a drawer and your PlayStation hooked up in the living room? Or is it the childhood space where you keep a collection of Pokémon cards and karting trophies to collect dust? Lance isn’t sure, mainly because he’s never stayed in one place long enough to really understand the feeling.

His dad throws the last card in his arsenal, the thing they all three have been wondering at.

“And what about the season? You’re done then?”

Fernando bites his lip, thinks on it.

“I go back when he does.”

No one wants to state the obvious, least of all his father. Fernando has played the winning hand, deploying the same dirty tactics he’s fond of utilizing when behind the wheel.

Lance stops chewing on the straw. He stops picking at the blanket. Instead, he just stares blankly at the fabric and tries to tune their bickering out. He’s getting a headache, the kind of stabbing pain that only comes when he tries to think too hard about a memory that has escaped him. It’s easier to blame the pain on the bright fluorescent’s, or the way Fernando’s voice is starting to rise, instead of the crack in his skull.

In the end, he goes with Fernando. He asks to go with Fernando, because as much as he loves his father, he cannot stand the thought of trying to make himself fit in a space that no longer knows the shape of him.

“We did get along, so you know,” Fernando says when Lance is buckled into his passenger seat, groggy from the meds they’d dosed him with. Supposedly, they’re supposed to help Lance with the nausea, manage it during the ride.

“When I was ‘sleep?” Lance slurs, still not calling his coma by its name. He’s got his head resting on the car window even though the nurses had warned him not to do that. He’s supposed to be focusing on stationary things within the car, like the warm weight of Fernando’s hand on his thigh, not watching the trees whip by outside while his skull rattles against the glass.

“Yes,” Fernando says, focused on the road with an intensity Lance has only ever seen him possess when behind the wheel, and therefore does not realize the implication of his answer. That he and Lance’s father could only get along as long as Lance was the unconscious white flag waving between them. He tries to backpedal. “No, that is not-.”

Lance shrugs, lethargic, “S’okay. Go back to sleep for you then.”

“Querido no, that is not what I meant,” Fernando actually sounds pained, the nickname rolling of his tongue with an ease Lance did not realize could be familiar to them. Lance just feels exhausted. Consciousness actually takes a conscious effort these days.

“Lance?”

“Hmm?”

“I did not mean that. You know I did not mean that, yes?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He’ll probably forget the conversation by the time he wakes up anyway, memories leak out of him now the same way his blood had.

--------

Surprisingly, Lance has more at Fernando’s UK home than he remembers. Or, unsurprisingly, depending on how much you take his brain injury into account.

He’s got half a bottle of shampoo in the shower, a razor and toothbrush at the sink, most of his hoodies and a good chunk of his sweatpants. Somehow, his favorite pair of socks has even ended up here, thrown in with Fernando’s dirty clothes and discovered by the cleaners. He takes to padding around the place in the loungewear, hood pulled over his head and keeping his hands tucked into the hoodie pocket – subconsciously splaying a palm along his stomach as he always has, but now pressing at his healing abdomen with newfound curiosity.

Fernando will catch him doing it sometimes, grab him by the arm and then the wrist until he can pull Lance’s probing fingers away from the tender skin and entwine them in his own.

“It won’t heal if you pick at it.”

“Feels weird. Itchy.”

It also sometimes hurts so much that Lance finds himself crying silently into the pillow while Fernando sleeps soundly beside him. The phantom pain of an injury he does not remember. When Fernando checks that the healing is coming along nicely, Lance deliberately does not watch. He hasn’t actually seen the incision since he accidentally looked while a nurse at the hospital was cleaning the wound, and nearly lost his light lunch of applesauce and pudding at the sight. It’s ugly, disgusting, and Fernando seems completely unphased by it.

Fernando squeezes his hand, raises it so he can press a kiss to Lance’s knuckles, a quickly forming new habit for him, “I’m sorry, cariño.”

Apologies flow from him easily now. He apologizes for splashing Lance with water when they’re washing dishes. Apologizes for grabbing Lance when he slips in the shower. Apologizes for the simple way the words seem to flow off his tongue now. It’s strange to Lance, stranger than waking up choking on a plastic tube with your dad on one side and your long-term fuck buddy/partner/boyfriend/mentor on the other. Stranger even that it’s coming from Fernando Alonso of all people, who notoriously does not apologize.

Lance is used to arguments between them ending in mutual silence on either end of the couch, not Fernando pressing a kiss to the furrow between his brow and asking for forgiveness.

“Stop doing that,” Lance grumbles, for what must be the hundredth time.

“Sorry.”

“Fernando.”

“Sor- okay,” and then he kisses Lance’s cheek with the gentleness of atonement anyway. Lance misses when Fernando would just slam him against a wall, crowd him against the marble of the kitchen counters, and talk Lance into sinking to his knees. Not that it ever really took much talking to begin with.

Fernando doesn’t fuck him anymore, which he thinks is maybe the biggest travesty to come out of all of this. Instead, he trails careful fingers down Lance’s side, presses kisses to his neck, his shoulder, his jaw with a tenderness that should be considered foreplay. Then he pulls away, leaves Lance half-hard in his sweatpants, and pretends he doesn’t notice the pout on Lance’s lips. Lance doesn’t beg, at least not before Fernando has gotten him undressed, and he’s not going to ask Fernando to suck his dick while the man is on his knees making sure Lance’s abdomen is still healing properly. So it becomes another thing they just don’t talk about. Lance is worried he’s picked up his father’s habit for avoidance.

--------

Nearly three months after his crash, Lance’s morbid curiosity gets the better of him. His therapy is going well, all three of them. The physical therapy for his legs, because they’d gotten fucked up too, though on a much smaller scale, and for his hands and for – well, for every part of him, is almost familiar. He’d done a few rounds of physio for his wrists after his bike accident, though those had been high intensity because Lance actually had a deadline. The cognitive therapy is more of a challenge, because his memory is still shot to shit, but he can remember Chloe’s birthday again so at least there’s that. The therapy therapy is kind of annoying, only because Lance has never really seen the value of shrinks picking apart his mental state to begin with, but it’s easy. Sometimes they play Jenga, sometimes they talk about how Lance is scared he’ll never be the same again, sometimes Lance excuses himself to the bathroom and screams until his voice is as hoarse as it had been once the intubation tube was removed. It’s all a process.

But he still doesn’t remember the crash.

He can see the reflection of it in Fernando’s eyes sometimes, the fear, the shame. The guilt is the worst, usually brought on when Lance jerks awake from a dream he cannot remember and finds Fernando watching him in the dark with eyes shining.

“You okay?” He will ask, propped up on an elbow and tracing a finger along Lance’s spine. The touch sends shivers through Lance, want and need all bundled up in the foggy confusion as his brain tries to reorient itself.

“Fine.”

“You are sure?”

“Definitely.”

Talking was never their strong suit. But Lance has always been able to read people, an ability fine-tuned after years of rejection. He likes to know when people are planning to turn on him before it happens, doesn’t want to be blindsided by a journalist asking him some probing question only to see if they can get a response. He can see Fernando’s guilt, and eventually he caves and searches for the why.

F1 TV, or his father, or maybe the FIA have made a herculean effort to scrub the full footage of the crash from the internet. But Lance has grown up in the age of the digital, so it doesn’t take him long to find it on YouTube, under a video titled “Canadian Buries it in Wall – ’24”. Inventive.

What he remembers is this, sitting beside Fernando in the pre-race briefing. Both of them trying to listen to Mike explain the stacked pit strategy again, but also occupying themselves with each other. Lance, dick still aching from being teased in his driver’s room, was feeling particularly vindictive. He’d been inching his foot slowly up Fernando’s pants leg, his hand up the inside of Fernando’s clothed thigh.

Fernando hadn’t responded. Sat ramrod straight in his seat and kept his eyes glued ahead. Until Lance just barely brushed his knuckles along the bulge in Fernando’s pants and received a sharp pinch to his own thigh in response.

“Ow!” Lance had yelped, loud enough that a few engineers turned to look at him.

Lance had blushed, “Hit my- hit my knee, sorry.”

And then he’d woken up in the hospital. The irritation to his thigh replaced by the throbbing pain that occupied his entire body.

He wants to remember, and so he hits play. He watches himself drive like he���s analyzing onboards for where he can maybe improve, with the same detached feeling. There’s Fernando behind him, and Russel ahead, and Lance in the middle of it all holding his ground. Fernando’s given the order to back-off, told not to fight because Lance’s tire management has been better, and he’s got the speed and clean air for now. Their fight is with Russel, except that Russel was six ahead and Fernando wanted to play sooner rather than later.

The commentators say Lance is driving surprisingly well, he tries not to grind his teeth.

And then Fernando pulls out of the slipstream, makes a charge to overtake in the straight, and Lance sees himself move. Just a twitch of the car, a fraction of movement in an effort to defend, before Fernando’s front right tire clips his back left and Lance spins. He can see himself try to overcorrect, but then the car goes sideways, the tires leave the track when he skitters across marbles, and he’s flipping until there’s only the wall to stop him.

The red flag is immediate, so is Fernando’s stop when he pulls into the gravel and doesn’t even hesitate to book it to Lance’s on fire car.

“Lance. Lance are you alright? Lance. Respond. Confirm you’re alright,” Andrew’s voice comes through the broadcast, but Lance’s own response does not. It’s eerily quiet, especially in the empty space of Fernando’s house when the man isn’t there to bring life to it.

They play a message from Esteban who drives by, the Frenchman’s voice laced with worry as he asked, pleaded, for Lance to be okay. Lance understands now why Esteban had looked so pale when they’d spoken last. When Lance had been curled up on Fernando’s couch, shrouded in shadow because the lights hurt his head, and Esteban had been sat in the chair across from him. He’d thought it was maybe because they were in Fernando’s house, thought the strangeness of the setting might have just had Esteban on edge. He hadn’t realized it was because his best friend had seen his on fire car and thought for a moment he might not get out.

It's suddenly a little hard to breathe. He blames the tightness in his chest on his ribs, even though those have healed by now.

“Lance?” Fernando’s voice in the doorway, quiet, worried.

Lance jumps, winces when he pulls at something sore, and slams the laptop shut with enough force that he’s a little scared to open it again. His eyes dart to Fernando’s and-

Oh. The guilt. He’s drowning in it.

“Fer, I’m sorry, I- fuck. I just…I didn’t- I’m sorry,” and now he’s the one gushing apologies, wanting so badly to tear his gaze away from the tears building in Fernando’s eyes. He shouldn’t have looked. It was easier when he didn’t know the shape of his body in the wreckage, when he didn’t know it had been Fernando who ran to him, who crashed into him. Pandora’s box and all of its contents are spilling across the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” Lance says again, because Fernando still has not moved from the doorway and he’s not sure what else he could do. He can’t walk to him, his leg is still aching from physio, hence the whole curled up in bed watching his own life-threatening crash while Fernando was supposed to be out picking him up a ridiculously overpriced smoothie from his favorite place down the road.

“No,” Fernando chokes, “No. Lance. No. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I-“ Fernando chokes again and then he’s sobbing. Lance’s spirulina, coconut, gold flaked smoothie still clutched in one hand and his free one wrapping around himself as he doubles over in the doorway.

Lance does go to move then, sore muscles be damned.

But when he grabs Fernando, the man only sobs harder. He doesn’t pull away though, he needs Fernando for the support now. His thigh is killing him.

“Fer, Nano, baby, please. It’s okay. I’m okay.” He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, because Fernando doesn’t cry. He bottles everything up, ghosts Lance for a week, and then comes back as if nothing was ever wrong in the first place. Lance doesn’t know how to comfort him, and he doesn’t think that’s something to be blamed on the memory loss, he’s almost certain this is entirely new to them.

Fernando collapses against his chest, Lance stumbles under the weight of them both. His body protests the sudden movement, something sharp and hot spiking it’s way through him, starting in his leg and moving to the incision scar on his stomach.

He gasps, tries to breathe through the pain. It’s kind of like how his wrists were after a race, before he plunged them into a bowl of ice, he can manage.

“I’m okay,” he says, and hopes it doesn’t sound too tense. There’s sweat breaking out along his brow. He kind of wants his smoothie. “I’m okay, Fer. I promise.”

Fernando’s tears are soaking the fabric of his hoodie. Lance cradles the back of his head, and ignores the damp feel of them against his chest, ignores the warm heat of Fernando’s breath as he tries to find air.

“An accident,” he wails, “I swear, Lance, I swear.”

“I know.”

He saw, just now, could clearly see himself moving and see Fernando slamming the brake to try to stop it. He sees Fernando running. Running to him. People who hurt Lance intentionally are hardly ever concerned enough to check on him afterward, some of them think he deserves the knife twisted inside him simply because he can afford the medical bill. He knows Fernando would never try to hurt him, but he also knows nothing he says could absolve the guilt.

“I know, dude. And I love you, but could we maybe move this to the bed? My leg is killing me.” Fernando, thankfully, lets himself be maneuvered until Lance is sitting on the edge of the bed and Fernando resting solidly in his lap, knees bracketed on either side of his thighs. It’s the most contact they’ve had since Lance woke up, it’s making him a little heady.

Fernando rests his cheek against Lance’s shoulder, cries into the crook of his neck, and Lance tries to soothe him as he takes intermittent sips from his smoothie that he’d pulled from Fernando’s grip before it ended up spilled across the sheets. He rubs a hand along Fernando’s back, a pantomime of how his dad used to calm him down when he had a rough race and had to blow off steam in his driver’s room. It’s not working very well. Lance is maybe bad at this.

“I shouldn’t have watched the stupid video,” he grumbles. Knowing the how has not brought him any peace, only made him realize the true severity of his injuries. His therapist might have been right in saying to stop pressing at the wound, Fernando too for pulling his hand away.

“I could have killed you,” Fernando cries, “I almost killed you. You- you were-“

“I know, Nando, I know. Please, just- just stop. Please.”

It’s too much too fast. Fernando’s guilt, his own brain trying to process it all, the headache forming at his temples and the exhaustion crashing down on him. He’s tired all of the time now. And not in the lazy way he once was, like a big cat stretching in a patch of sunlight, more like someone who’s been crumpled in their car and extracted without all of the pieces smoothed back out.

He wants to sleep. He maybe wants to cry himself.

“Thought I would lose you,” Fernando mumbles, miserable and quiet, his stubble rough against the soft skin of Lance’s neck when he speaks.

“You didn’t. I’m safe. I’m right here.”

Lance hadn’t realized he was Fernando’s to lose, didn’t really put the pieces together until now that he maybe belonged to someone other than his family. He didn’t think anyone would ever actually want him. It’s a weird feeling, makes something beneath the scarring and the healing wound in his gut twist.

“You have me. I’m right here. I’m safe. I’m here.”

I’m okay, he thinks, and he starts to believe that it will be true.

[doromoni]

Hunting Affections

Charles Leclerc x photographer! reader

Max Verstappen x photographer! reader

Part 3.

fanfic + smau fic

y/n faceclaim : Hwang Eunbi

warning: angst , mild swearing , implications of cheating(?)

!song credits belong to Julia Micheals alone

A/N : UP FOR EDITING 🤍

<previous next>

Summary; Love is but a concept — just connections of neurons that take part in the brain … and yet, why is it the most painful when one falls alone?

or

Loving someone who doesn’t love you back , until you can’t no more. Maybe then they’ll actually know what they’ve lost.

You were never the patient kind , I could tell. You also didn’t like sharing — to this day I still grimace to the memory of your shouts that time I wore your hoodie when it rained out; I didn’t understand your anger … you hated that hoodie. You said that it was yours , you didn’t want it , but it was still yours. I was in shock, yet you could never do wrong in my eyes , always perfect and always kind.

There were times when your words were ugly and crass — more often than I would like to admit. I could understand french , did you know? I heard you mutter “la pute” under your breath when I didn’t want to go out partying 3 nights in row. I was hurt , did you notice? Did you look back? I didn’t see , the tears were blocking my vision.

Your friends pitied me when you took off with another girl from the party you invited me too— petit and brunette, you did have a type. I should be humiliated, I should’ve cried, but all I felt was the cold that numbness provided.

I guess, I should thank you, because if you haven’t left me, your friends wouldn’t have helped. Oh, did you know? your friends and I got along great; I knew that we were going to be the bestest of friends the moment they said “ I’m sorry about Charles. My name is Daniel , that’s Lando and this is Max, we were about to leave and get some ice cream , wanna join?” His lie was obvious, but I didn’t point it out — I only smiled and said “Sure , but only if it’s the cheap kind” because another expensive object forced into my hands is the last thing I needed.

We then found ourselves in the parking lot of McDonald’s — dressed in couture priced at hundreds and thousands of dollars on top of an Aston Martin, eating soupy ice cream from half empty McFlurry cups and munching on mostly soggy fries. We were laughing about nothing and everything. I was having the time of my life . I felt the cold wind of Monaco’s evening breeze in my hair as mindless chatter filled the air. It felt nice.

I did not think of you. You never once came to mind. That was the first time where I didn’t fucking care. I felt … free.

I sensed someone nudge my side, It was Max . “You grew quite, are you alright?” He asked , his eyes filled with concern ; I never knew that eyes could be that blue. I smiled and gave him a nod, and to my surprise a fry was suddenly pushed into my mouth. The only thought in my mind then was how salty the fries were and how beautiful the smile that adorned the face of the dutch racer was.

***

navi.exe

likes are hidden

navi.exe this is goodbye.

Comments have been limited

maxverstappen1 1h

viewed by y/n_stills. , charles_leclerc , carlossainz55 , and 1,506,189 others

story replies :

y/n_stills. EMILIAN! how mean >:((

charles_leclerc Mate, is that y/n?

charles_leclerc She’s with you? She said she was busy.

y/n_stills. 30m

viewed by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 307, 251 others

story replies :

maxverstappen1 : im sorry~ liebling, please let me hug you :((

y/n_stills. No

charles_leclerc Y/N?!

charles_leclerc You said you were busy, what the fuck is this then?

charles_leclerc please answer your phone, pick up my calls.

charles_leclerc i swear y/n… pick up the phone.

F1wags

liked by user1 , user2 , navi.exe, and 68,081 others

F1wags Max and Y/N spotted at singer-songwriter y/f/n’s concert!!

A fan had seen both max and y/n arriving together in Max’s Aston Martin at the concert hall earlier this evening, It was reported that the two were hand in hand as they were escorted towards backstage and stopping to sign autographs for fans who recognized them.

During the Formula 1 summer break, these two were mostly silent until the most recent post of Y/N that features a mystery man - whom she called “my hero” to which Max left a 💙 in the comments. Could the unnamed guy be Max? Is Y/N finally an official wag?

Even before Max, fans have speculated something going on between Y/N and Charles — more than a employer:employee relationship. Yet nothing was confirmed or made official by the Ferrari driver.

Nevertheless, Y/N has been a staple at the paddock and is loved by both fans, drivers, and motorhomes alike.

Admin: We love Y/N so much it hurts >:((

tagged : maxverstappen1 and y/n_stills.

user1 WHAT?? Max and Y/N? I didn’t see that coming… yet they surprisingly suit each other ngl

user2 Ikr they oddly complement each other and the height difference?? they got me so softtt.

user1 grumpy x sunshine on track ~ they’re so cute!

user3 lmao off track these two are just crack x crack @user1

user1 facts, imagine them together with Lando and Daniel … complete and utter chaos.

user4 Charles and Y/N weren’t dating? Bruh fumbled and lost a 10. Should’ve bagged her when you had the chance.

user1 much like his team , his strategy failed.

user4 @user1 Lmao , and Red bull is here to overtake 🤭

user5 everything is clicking omg. It makes sense! Y/N is close to Max’s sisters and surprisingly Jos!

user6 dude imagine being bffs with your boyfriend’s dad. I swear everyone just loves y/n and if you don’t. That’s a you problem.

user7 oof big L for Charles 😭 , yo girl went to the enemy .

user8 well its a fact that villains love harder, I support you y/n! get the most payed athlete on the grid .Girl get the bag!

user9 tbh I never was a supporter of the Y/N and Charles ship… It felt one sided?

user10 @user9 I thought I was the only one! It felt like Y/N was always pushed to the side or smth.

user8 they’re both glowing in their recent posts~ must be nice to have someone. ha ha ha im not lonely at all.

landonorris they didn’t invite me, again.

user1 lando what are you doing on a wag page??

user2 what do you mean again… so this ain’t new huh. Interesting

user3 so it’s basically true, They are together! confirmed. I wont take no for an answer

***

📍 AO Arena , Manchester

The light had again started to dim, only a single spotlight shone — illuminating my most dearest friend. A familiar arm snaked around my waist, pulling me back into their warmth . Sighing with content as I melted into his embrace

“How are you feeling , liebling?” Max whispered in my ear, drawing mindless circles around my waist . I couldn’t answer, as I was too overwhelmed with peace and comfort. I could only fall deeper in his embrace and letting my head lean on his shoulder. Feeling the soothing beating of his heart as my back pressed into him.

“alright everyone, I want to sing one last song. This one is not written by me, but my dearest and longest friend, y/n! She’s actually in the audience today. This song is dedicated to the person who she opened her heart to after going through every hardship she faced, and I was made aware that the certain person is here with her tonight. This song … It’s too beautiful not to share with the world. Y/N im sorry for putting you on the spot , I know how this song means so much to you. You deserve all the happiness and love in this world. You finally found it.”

Hearing what what y/f/n had said , my pulse grew quicker and my throat grew dry, yet I didn’t pull away from Max’s embrace. I wasn’t sure if I wanted for him to hear what I in wrote that song. That song held the contents of my heart, holding nothing back; baring my soul in each word. I laid all my cards for him to see.

“The summer before you

I thought love was Shakespearean

More or less a painful experience

Only ever real if you're delirious

The summer before you

I let it take up very little oxygen

Nowhere I'd rest my head, more like an ottoman

Never had someone like you to treat me like Solomon

But little did I know

You would be the one I confide in

Learn how to try with

Little did I know

It was you before I ever decided

Oh-oh-oh, little did I know

Oh-oh-oh, little did I know

The summer before you

You can't spell "drama" with consonants

And I admit, I usually was the cause of it

Now here we are, you got me changing all of it

Slow me down, I want you too

It's different when it comes to you

Hey, yeah

But little did I know

You would be the one I confide in

Learn how to try with

Little did I know

It was you before I ever decided

Yeah, little did I know

You would be the one that would save me

Learn how to change me

Little did I know

Oh-ooh, just look at you, can you blame me?

Oh-oh-oh, little did I know

Oh-oh-oh, little did I know

The summer before you

I thought love was Shakespearean

More or less a painful experience

Only ever real if you're delirious

But little did I know

You would be the one I confide in

Learn how to try with

Little did I know

It was you before I ever decided

Yeah, little did I know

You would be the one that would save me

Learn how to change me

Little did I know

Oh-ooh, just look at you, can you blame me?

Oh-oh-oh, little (yeah) did I know (did I know)

Oh-oh-oh (oh), little did I know (did I know)

Oh-oh-oh, little did I know that it could feel like this (yeah)

Oh-oh-oh, little, every time I got you on my lips (hey)

The summer before you”

Shouts and claps filled the stadium, but it grew deaf in our ears as we stood frozen in time- the beating of our hearts beating louder than ever. Then suddenly, I was again staring at the bluest of eyes that reflected every emotion and this time they were filled with unshed tears. My hand shook as I slowly lifted my palm to his cheeks.

“Do you mean it?” His voice soft , filled with yearning and hope . Slowly leaning his forehead against mine.

“Every last word” I whispered.

Then his lips finally met mine. We didn’t have to say it, we both knew that we were each other’s.

y/n_stills.

Liked by maxverstappen1, justy/f/n , landonorris , and 805,415 others

y/n_stills. Little did I know , it was you before I ever decided. Little did I know it could feel like this.

Thank you for waiting for me , my love💙

tagged @maxverstappen1

Comments are been disabled

maxverstappen1

Liked by y/n_stills. , redbullracing, danielricciardo, and 2,628,917 others

maxverstappen1 I would’ve waited for eternity if you needed me to, my Liebling 💙

tagged @y/n_stills

Comments are disabled

***

“CHARLES! Are you alright?!”

“Mom, what have I done… I lost her. I lost y/n”

[holocrypticocs]

they are besties... walking home after watching star wars <3

[thiziri]

Princess Anne chatting to people from Church Aston & Chetwynd Village Hall who received the King's Award for Voluntary Service, on 24 April 2024.

[world-of-wales]

HAPPY 12TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY TO THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF WALES!

HRH Prince William Arthur Philip Louis and Miss. Catherine Elizabeth Middleton married in a religious ceremony on 29 April 2011 at Westminster Abbey in London.

Will and Cat were married by the Archbishop of Canterbury, while the Dean of Windsor conducted the ceremony and the Bishop of London gave the address.

Catherine wore a dress by Surah Burton of Alexander McQueen. The Royal School of Needlework's hand-made lace applique for the bodice and skirt incorporated the rose, thistle, daffodil and shamrock. She was lent the Cartier Scroll Tiara by her grandmother-in-law and gifted a pair of diamond earrings featuring acorns from Robinson Pelham by her parents for the special day. The bridal bouquet featured myrtle, lily-of-the-valley, sweet William, ivy, and hyacinth.

William doned on the red tunic of the Colonel of the Irish Guards uniform with a forage cap bearing the Irish Guards insignia and motto, "Quis Separabit?. He wore the Order of the Garter Star and Blue Riband to which his RAF Wings & Golden Jubilee Medal were fastened.

Upon their wedding they were conferred upon the titles of The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Earl & Countess of Strathearn and Baron and Lady Carrickfergus by Queen Elizabeth II.

Following the ceremony in true fairytale fashion, the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge travelled in the 1902 State Landau in a horse-drawn carriage procession to Buckingham Palace. They appeared on the Palace Balcony for a RAF Flypast and shared TWO KISSES to the delight of the crowd gathered below and my 11 year old self's.

The official wedding photos of the couple with their families and wedding party were taken by Hugo Burnand in the throne room of Buckingham Palace.

A Reception for the couple and their guests was hosted at Buckingham Palace by The Queen while the then Prince of Wales hosted a further private dinner. The couple'a guests had two wedding cakes to choose from - a multi-tiered traditional fruit cake crafted by Fiona Cairns & William's favourite chocolate biscuit cake.

William and Catherine drove to Clarence House following the lunchtime reception in a blue, two seat Aston Martin DB6 Volante which was originally a 21st birthday gift to the then Prince of Wales by the Queen.

William and Catherine have three children Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis. The family of five they divide time between their official residence at Kensington Palace in London and their two private residences Amner Hall in Norfolk & Adelaide Cottage in Windsor.

They became The Duke and Duchess of Cornwall and The Duke and Duchess of Rothesay after King Charles III's accession to the throne and were made The Prince and Princess of Wales by him on 9 September 2022.

As well as undertaking royal duties in support of The King, both in the UK and overseas, The Prince and Princess devote their time to supporting a number of charitable causes and organisations with some of their key areas of interest being Early Childhood Development, Mental Health, Conservation, Arts, Sports etc.