#beyond the checkered flag

[mrsfancyferrari]

Good Luck Kiss

Summary: Lando is a fully independent guy until you are around.

Song: Under The Influence by Chris Brown

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 8.6k

MASTERLIST - F1

Once upon a time, in the bustling world of Formula 1, there lived a young and aspiring driver named Lando Norris. Lando was known for his quick reflexes, fearless racing style, and unwavering determination.

However, there was one aspect about Lando that many people didn't know - he was a fully independent guy, except for when he was around a certain someone.

It all started when Lando Norris attended the annual Formula 1 convention.

Amidst the glitz and glamour of the event, he stumbled upon a mysterious stranger. The woman's name was Y/N, and you were equally passionate about motorsports.

The two instantly connected over your shared love for speed and adrenaline.

As they chatted, Lando couldn't help but be drawn to your infectious laughter and genuine enthusiasm. They spent the entire evening together, discussing their favorite races, memorable moments, and even daring each other to try out some racing simulators.

It was a night that neither of them would ever forget, as they had found in each other a kindred spirit and a racing partner like no other.

"Wow! You're good," Lando said, flirting/teasing. "You should come over to the McLaren paddock to check it out," he added with a mischievous grin, knowing that you couldn't resist the chance to get a behind-the-scenes look at the heart of Formula 1.

"You're inviting me to the McLaren paddock? Are you serious?" you asked, a mix of excitement and disbelief evident in your voice.

"I would absolutely love to! That's like a dream come true for any Formula 1 fan," you replied, unable to contain your excitement.

Lando smirked, already getting used to your smile. "Well, get ready for the ride of your life," he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Because once you step into the McLaren paddock, you'll never want to leave."

Fast forward to the present, you had become Lando's best friend and constant companion both on and off the racetrack. You were there to support him through every victory and to lift him up during the challenging moments.

Together, you formed an unbreakable bond, a dynamic duo that pushed each other to new heights. Whether it was strategizing race tactics, cheering from the pit lane, or simply sharing a laugh after a long day, you were inseparable.

The McLaren paddock had become a second home for you, a place where memories were made, dreams were pursued, and the thrill of Formula 1 was lived to the fullest.

In addition to your close friendship with Lando, you also formed strong connections with the other drivers and their partners. The paddock became a tight-knit community where you shared laughs, stories, and even the occasional friendly competition.

It was a unique bond that extended beyond the racetrack, creating lifelong friendships that would continue to flourish even after the checkered flag fell.

As time went on, Lando found himself spending more and more time with you when they weren't in the paddock, and the press kept catching them together. Speculations about a romantic relationship between the two of you started circulating, fueling rumors and adding an extra layer of excitement to your already thrilling lives.

However, both of you remained tight-lipped about the nature of your relationship, preferring to keep it private and let the speculation run its course.

"Have you heard the latest rumors about Y/N and Lando? They're definitely more than just friends, I can feel it!" one fan excitedly whispered to another in the paddock.

"I don't know, they've always been so secretive about their relationship. But I wouldn't be surprised if they're actually together," replied another, their eyes fixated on you and Lando as you laughed together nearby.

"I heard they're the perfect match, both on and off the track. They bring out the best in each other," chimed in a journalist, discreetly taking notes.

"Well, whatever their relationship status is, they make a formidable team. I've never seen Lando so focused and driven before," commented a fellow driver, watching Lando's improved performance.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see if they ever confirm it. But until then, I'm rooting for them," concluded a teammate, smiling in support. . . .

"Where's Y/N?" Lando complained, sulking after not seeing his best friend for three hours.

This morning, he was required to film a go kart video for Quadrant for their marketing campaign and it was suggested that you be a part of it, which he had no problem with at all, he wanted you to be there regardless.

"Don't worry mate, I'm sure your girlfriend will be here soon," Max teased, nudging his shoulder against Lando's.

Lando gently shoved him back for his comment, a playful smile on his face. "She's not my girlfriend, Max. Y/N and I are just really close friends," he clarified, emphasizing the word 'friend' to make his point.

Deep down, though, Lando couldn't help but wonder if there could ever be something more between them.

"Yeah, yeah," Max replied, not believing him one bit. "I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more going on there, mate."

Before Lando could talk back, footsteps were heard, and you emerged from the crowd of staff.

You emerged from the crowd of staff, donning a sleek black leather jacket that hugged your figure perfectly. Underneath, you wore a vibrant orange crop top that accentuated your curves and matched the colour of the McLaren, paired with high-waisted jeans that showcased your long legs.

Completing the ensemble were a pair of white sneakers that added a touch of casual coolness to your overall look.

As you approached Lando and Max, the mischievous smile on your lips hinted at the adventures that awaited the three of you, fueling Lando's curiosity even further about the potential for something more than just friendship between you.

"Sorry I'm late, boys. Traffic was a nightmare," you said, smiling at Lando, who couldn't help but blush at the sight of you.

"It's okay, we can start now," Lando assured, avoiding your eyes to calm down a bit.

"But when I'm 5 minutes late, I get yelled at," Max muttered beside him and received another shove from Lando.

Lando took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts as he prepared to introduce the go-karting video.

With you and Max standing beside him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous excitement. "Alright, everyone, welcome to Quadrant's go-karting extravaganza!" Lando exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"Today, we have two special guests joining us for some adrenaline-pumping action. Please give a warm welcome to the one and only Y/N and the ever-competitive Max!"

The crowd cheered, and Lando glanced at you. A mixture of anticipation and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on coursing through him.

Max playfully nudged Lando's shoulder, adding, "And let me tell you, folks, the competition between Lando and Y/N is about to get intense. I can't wait to see who comes out on top!"

After explaining the rules, the three of them started to change into their racing suits. Max slipped into his familiar Red Bull suit, while you and Lando excitedly put on the McLaren suits.

As Lando muttered, "Let me help you with that," he reached for your helmet, his fingers grazing your cheek as he brushed your hair away.

The intensity in his eyes remained unbroken as he carefully positioned the helmet on your head, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Oh my god! You two better get a room," Max said beside you two, looking more frustrated than the two of you felt about your feelings for each other.

Lando quickly let go of you, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks, and you said a quick thank you before rushing over to where Max was since it was you vs Max first.

The anticipation and excitement in the air was palpable as you both prepared to show off your go-karting skills.

You both got into your go-karts with the determination to start the video with a great race to capture the viewer's attention.

You gripped the wheel of your go-kart tightly, your heart pounding with anticipation. Lando raised the starter pistol, his eyes focused on the track ahead. "On your marks... get set..." He paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Go!"

The sound of the pistol echoed through the air, and you and Max shot off like lightning. The thrill of the race fueled your determination to come out on top.

The wind whipped through your hair as you maneuvered your kart around the bends. The thrill of the race pushing you to your limits. As the laps flew by, the competition between you and Max intensified, fueling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pressed down on the accelerator and zoomed ahead, determined to showcase your go-karting skills. Max, however, was not far behind, and the friendly competition between the two of you intensified as you maneuvered through the twists and turns of the track.

Max was hot on your tail, his competitive nature driving him to catch up and surpass you. The cheers from the crowd faded into the background as you focused on the twists and turns of the track, determined to give it your all.

The wind whipped against your face, causing your cheeks to flush with exhilaration. Every twist and turn of the track sent a surge of adrenaline through your veins, heightening your senses and sharpening your focus. The vibrations from the go-kart's engine reverberated through your body, adding to the excitement of the race.

As the race continued, you and Max pushed each other to the limits, maneuvering through the twists and turns with precision and skill. The crowd cheered as you both showcased your go-karting prowess, but Max's determination proved to be unmatched.

In the final lap, he made a daring move, overtaking you with a burst of speed that left you in awe. With a triumphant smile, Max crossed the finish line, claiming victory in the race.

Despite the disappointment of not winning, you couldn't help but admire Max's talent and sportsmanship, knowing that you had given it your all in a thrilling and unforgettable race.

Lando quickly ran over to you as you got out of the go-kart to check for any injuries while you assured him that you were fine.

Despite the loss, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for the exhilarating race you had just experienced.

"What about me? I think my legs hurt," Max muttered, acting like he broke his leg.

"That's karma for you," Lando replied, "You should have let Y/N win,"

"Never," Max said with a smirk, "I'm not one to let someone win just out of pity." Lando chuckled and patted Max on the back, "Well, Y/N certainly gave you a run for your money. It was an incredible race to watch."

Max's competitive spirit still brimming, he replied, "Yeah, they did. I'll give them that. But next time, I won't be so merciful."

You chuckle and playfully retort, "Oh, so you're admitting that you were being merciful this time?"

Max rolls his eyes and smirks, "Just you wait, next time I won't hold back and you won't stand a chance."

You and Lando got into your go-karts, the engines roaring to life as you prepared for the race. The smell of burning rubber filled the air, adding to the anticipation of the competition.

"Am I going to get my good luck kiss?" Lando teased beside you, causing a playful smile to spread across your face.

You playfully roll your eyes at Lando's comment and give him a playful shove. "You wish," you respond with a smirk.

Lando pleads, "Come on, just one good luck kiss! It worked last time!"

You laugh and shake your head, "Sorry, Lando, but I don't think a kiss will give you an advantage this time. You'll have to rely on your own skills."

Lando pouted, feeling disappointed that things didn't go his way. Max, who had been growing increasingly disgusted by the playful "flirting" between you and Lando, decided to take matters into his own hands.

Without warning, he fired the starting pistol, catching both you and Lando off guard and initiating the race with a bang. The sudden sound echoed through the air, signaling the beginning of another intense competition.

The race started off with a flurry of speed and adrenaline as you and Lando maneuvered your go-karts through the twists and turns of the track. Both of you showcased impressive skills, overtaking each other and pushing the limits of your vehicles.

As the race progressed, Lando began to gain a slight edge, skillfully navigating the corners and maximizing his speed on the straightaways. You gave it your all, refusing to let Lando take the lead without a fight. But despite your best efforts, Lando's expertise and precision behind the wheel proved to be unmatched.

You could feel the wind from Lando's go-kart as he zoomed past the front of your car, leaving you in his dust. His maneuver was both impressive and frustrating, as you had been neck-and-neck for most of the race.

"Hey, I thought you would take it easy on her?" Max asked Lando after he got out of the go-kart.

Lando chuckled and shrugged, " Since she wouldn't give me what I wanted, I had no choice but to do it."

"You would have won regardless, with or without the kiss," you said, also getting out of the go-kart. "It was a great race, Lando. You really showed your skill out there."

Lando grinned, still catching his breath. "Thanks Y/N."

Since you were tired from all the racing, the two guys decided to do some mini games to pass the time while you rested on a chair. They set up a table tennis table and started a friendly match, their competitive spirits still shining through.

As they played, you watched with amusement, enjoying the lighthearted banter and laughter that filled the air.

Occasionally, they would invite you to join in, but you declined, content to relax and soak in the camaraderie that had developed between the three of you.

After a few rounds of table tennis, they moved on to a game of darts, taking turns aiming for the bullseye with precision and skill. It was a refreshing change of pace from the intense racing, and you found yourself appreciating the moment of respite.

As you laid back on the chair, you started to fall asleep, the sounds of their laughter and the clinking of darts fading into the background. The exhaustion from the race and the adrenaline rush began to take its toll, and before you knew it, you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, feeling grateful for the bonds of friendship that had been formed during this exhilarating competition.

You knew that there would likely be photos or videos taken of you sleeping, but at that moment, you didn't care. The fatigue from the race had overtaken you, and all you wanted was a peaceful nap.

The trust and camaraderie you had built with Lando and Max allowed you to let your guard down, knowing that even if embarrassing moments were captured, they would remain within the circle of friendship.

The intense racing had left you physically and mentally drained, making the peaceful slumber that followed even more satisfying.

The adrenaline rush and the exertion of pushing yourself to the limit had taken a toll on your energy levels, and the nap provided a much-needed opportunity to recharge and recover. . . .

As you slowly opened your eyes, you were greeted by the refreshing sensation of coolness and shade. You thought the sun had shifted and now cast a gentle shadow over the area where you had been napping.

It was a stark contrast to the warmth and brightness that enveloped you before, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the respite from the scorching heat.

You looked over to see Lando holding an umbrella over you while being on his phone, and couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtful gesture. Despite being absorbed in his own activities, he had taken the time to shield you from the sun and ensure your comfort.

You couldn't help but admire Lando's striking features. His curly hair, tousled by the wind, framed a face that exuded a combination of youthful energy and maturity beyond his years. His eyes, a vibrant shade of hazel, sparkled with intelligence and a mischievous glint that hinted at his playful nature.

The dimples that appeared when he smiled added an undeniable charm to his already captivating presence. And his infectious laughter, a melodic blend of joy and enthusiasm, never failed to brighten your day.

But it was his kind heart and genuine concern for others that truly set him apart.

His selflessness had been evident in countless small gestures, like now, as he shielded you from the sun without a second thought, demonstrating his unwavering commitment to the happiness and well-being of those around him.

His eyes then flickered up and met your eyes, locking in a moment of connection that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. In that instant, it felt as if time had stopped, and the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of unspoken emotions.

"Well good evening sleepyhead, how long have you been awake?" Lando teased, breaking the enchanting spell between the two of you.

The sound of his voice brought you back to reality, and you couldn't help but blush at being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

"Wait, did you say evening?" you stammered, trying to gather your thoughts.

Lando chuckled softly, his eyes still holding a twinkle of amusement.

"Well, time flies when you're lost in a nap, doesn't it? It's already late afternoon," he replied, a warm smile playing on his lips.

"What about the video?" you asked, sitting in panic that you ruined it because you were asleep.

Lando's smile widened as he reassured you, "Don't worry, we still have time to do the final if you're still up for it. Your nap just added a touch of authenticity to the footage."

You nodded, taking the umbrella off Lando so he could stretch his arm. As he did, you couldn't help but appreciate the way his muscles flexed and the way his sleeves rolled up, revealing his tanned skin.

It was moments like these that made you grateful for the unexpected connections you found in life.

"Finally she has risen from the nap of the century," Max said as soon as he saw the both of you walk into the staff room.

You couldn't help but blush at the teasing remark, but Lando's reassuring presence beside you made you feel at ease.

"We're definitely up for finishing the video today," Lando replied with a confident smile. "We just had a little detour, but we're ready to get back on track."

Lando replied confidently, his eyes glancing at you for confirmation.

You nodded, feeling a surge of excitement and determination to complete the project with the support of your newfound connection.

"I guess I can spend one more hour of my time to beat the both of you in go-karting," Max stated, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

You couldn't help but exchange a playful glance with Lando, silently accepting the challenge and looking forward to the friendly competition that awaited you.

"Challenge accepted," you replied, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

The upcoming go-karting race was not just a friendly competition between friends. It was the final showdown between Max and Lando, a battle that would determine once and for all who was the true champion of the track.

As Max and Lando did their slow walk for the video, the tension in the air was palpable. This final race was not just about winning a trophy; it was about pride, honor, and the ultimate bragging rights among friends.

The tension in the air was palpable, and everyone knew that this race would be the ultimate test of skill and determination for both competitors.

As they got into their go-karts, Lando gestured for you to come over.

Curiosity piqued, you approached Lando's go-kart, wondering what he had in store.

He leaned in and whispered, "I'm going to need my good luck kiss if you want me to win this race."

"Well," you whispered back with a mischievous glint in your eye, "if it's good luck you're after, I suppose I have no choice but to oblige. After all, we wouldn't want anything to hinder our chances of beating Max, would we?"

Lando grinned and nodded in agreement, his eyes gleaming with determination. He knew that every advantage counted in this high-stakes race, and he was willing to go to any lengths to secure the victory.

He also just wanted a kiss from you.

You cupped his face and gently placed your lips on his cheek, giving him the good luck kiss he desired.

As your lips touched Lando's cheek, a surge of warmth and determination spread through Lando's body. It was as if the kiss transferred a sense of confidence, fueling him with an electric energy that would propel Lando forward in the race.

As you pulled away, a spark of excitement passed between you, fueling your determination to win the race and prove to Max once and for all that you and Lando were an unstoppable team.

Lando's ears turned a shade of crimson, but his smile only grew brighter. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation and confidence, knowing that he had your support and the added boost of the good luck kiss.

"Thanks Y/N," he said, his voice filled with gratitude and excitement. "With your good luck kiss, I know we're going to dominate this race and show Max who the true champion is."

With determination in his eyes, Lando strapped on his helmet and revved the engine of his go-kart, prepared to give it his all in the race.

Blushing at his words, you playfully tapped Lando on the shoulder before walking over to the starting line with the starting pistol in hand.

The anticipation in the air was palpable as you raised the pistol, ready to signal the start of the race and unleash the fierce competition between Lando and Max.

The good luck kiss not only symbolized your support for Lando, but it also ignited a newfound confidence within him.

Fueled by the warmth and determination that the kiss brought, Lando was ready to give his all in the race, knowing that he had the power of your love and support behind him, making him unstoppable.

The sound of the starting pistol echoed through the air, piercing the silence and signaling the beginning of the race.

Lando's go-kart shot forward, the engine roaring as he accelerated with a fierce determination. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his focus fixed solely on the track ahead.

With every twist and turn, he pushed himself to the limit, fueled by the knowledge that he had your love and support propelling him forward.

As the race progressed, Lando skillfully maneuvered through the tight corners and overtaking Max with precision. Each lap brought him closer to victory, and his confidence soared with every successful maneuver. His determination never wavered, and he maintained a steady lead throughout the race.

In the final moments, with the finish line in sight, Lando summoned every ounce of his skill and experience. He pushed his go-kart to its limits, leaving his rival trailing behind.

As he crossed the finish line, a triumphant smile spread across his face.

Lando had emerged as the true champion, proving to Max and everyone else that with your support, he was unstoppable.

He immediately made his way to where you were, quickly jumping out of the go-kart and into your arms. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins as he held you tightly, his heart filled with a mixture of excitement and gratitude.

Breathing heavily, he looked into your eyes with a mixture of exhilaration and gratitude, knowing that it was your good luck kiss and unwavering support that propelled him to victory.

With tears of joy welling in his eyes, he whispered, "Thank you for believing in me. I couldn't have done it without you."

As you took off Lando's helmet, a mischievous smile spread across your face. Playfully, you pressed kisses all over his cheeks, purposely missing his lips. Lando couldn't help but laugh, feeling the warmth of your love and support enveloping him.

In that moment, he knew that your presence and encouragement were the true driving force behind his victory, and he was forever grateful for your unwavering belief in him.

Lando chuckled, his heart still racing from the intense competition.

"If it's good luck kisses that you need to win races, I'll gladly take as many as you want to give," you replied, playfully wiping off the remaining lipstick stains from his face.

Your presence and support had truly become his secret weapon, fueling him with the determination to conquer any race that lay ahead.

Lando couldn't help but blush at your playful gesture, feeling a surge of happiness and gratitude. "I wouldn't say no to more good luck kisses," he replied with a grin, his heart swelling with love for you.

"But can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

Lando whispered, his voice barely audible. He pointed to his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If I win a grand prix, you have to give me a victory kiss right here."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes, realizing that his request was both playful and sincere.

With a smile, you nodded and replied, "Deal. I'll be waiting to give you that grand prix victory kiss."

Lando chuckled, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can't wait to win these races and claim my well-deserved victory kiss. You better start practicing your cheering skills because I'm going to need all the luck I can get," he teased, his voice filled with determination and anticipation.

"Trust me, I'll be the loudest cheerleader in the stands, I have no doubt that you'll win every race and I'll be right there cheering you on," you replied, your voice filled with unwavering belief and love.

Lost in the moment, the both of you didn't even hear Max do the outro for the video. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and it seemed like everyone around you could see it.

Max, who had been watching your interactions all day, let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you two ever going to get together?" he muttered under his breath, clearly sick of the two of you dancing around your feelings.

It was time to stop playing games and finally admit what had been obvious to everyone else for so long. . . .

And so, the whispers of Lando and your relationship spread throughout the racing community, with everyone eagerly anticipating the day when you would finally become more than just friends. . . .

The anticipation for the Miami Grand Prix reached fever pitch as fans eagerly awaited your relationship with Lando to blossom. The video had ignited a frenzy of excitement, and spectators couldn't help but wonder if the grand prix victory kiss would be the catalyst for your official union.

The anticipation for the Miami Grand Prix was at an all-time high, fueled not only by the excitement of the race but also by the fans' obsession with your relationship with Lando.

Everywhere you went, people asked when you were going to make it official, eagerly waiting for the victory kiss that had been promised.

The pressure was on, but deep down, you both knew that this race would be a turning point in more ways than one.

As Lando delved into intense discussions with the engineers, you took the opportunity to explore the bustling paddock. The atmosphere was electric, with the sounds of engines revving and the smell of burning rubber filling the air.

You wandered from team to team, immersing yourself in the world of Formula 1, gaining a deeper appreciation for the dedication and precision that went into each race.

The atmosphere was electric, with teams frantically making last-minute adjustments to their cars and fans eagerly snapping photos of their favorite drivers.

As you explored, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. The Miami Grand Prix was not only a crucial moment for Lando's racing career but also for your relationship.

"Y/N! Long time no see!" you heard from behind you, turning around to see who it was.

Standing before you was Alexandra Saint Mleux, the renowned fashion influencer and close friend of Lando. Her striking features, with piercing blue eyes and perfectly coiffed blonde hair, seemed to radiate confidence.

She was dressed impeccably, donning a tailored white pantsuit that accentuated her slender figure, paired with a bold statement necklace and stiletto heels, exuding an air of sophistication and glamour.

"Alexandra!" you exclaimed, a smile spreading across your face as you embraced your best friend in the paddock.

It had been far too long since you had seen each other, and you couldn't wait to catch up on all the latest news and gossip.

"How have you been?" Alexandra asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, eager to share the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed your life since the last time you had seen her.

"Oh, Alexandra, where do I even begin?" you replied, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. "So much has happened since we last caught up. Lando, and I... it's all been a rollercoaster of emotions."

Alexandra was captivated by your journey and couldn't help but ask, "So, what's the deal with you and Lando? Are you two finally going to make it official?"

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Well, Alexandra, it's complicated," you say with a hint of uncertainty.

"Lando and I have been through so much together, and I care about him deeply. But there are still some things we need to figure out before we can make any official decisions."

Alexandra nodded understandingly, sensing the weight of your words. She quickly changed the topic, eager to distract you from the complexity of your relationship with Lando.

With a smile, she began sharing stories about her recent travels with Leo and Charles and the adventures they had together.

As you listened, the worries and uncertainties faded into the background, replaced by laughter and the warmth of friendship. . . .

"Y/N! Miss L/N!" A McLaren staff came out of nowhere, frantically looking for you. You turned towards them, a mix of surprise and curiosity in your eyes, wondering what could be so urgent that they interrupted your long-awaited reunion with Alexandra.

You turned towards the staff member, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice as you asked, "What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

"It's Lando,"

Startled, you turned to Alexandra and said, "I guess our catch-up will have to wait. Duty calls."

Alexandra nodded understandingly, giving you a quick hug before you followed the staff. "Take care, Y/N," she said softly, her voice filled with concern. "I hope everything is alright with Lando."

"I hope so too," you replied, your heart pounding with worry. "I'll find out what's going on and let you know as soon as I can." With that, you hurried after the staff member, praying that whatever had happened to Lando wasn't as serious as it sounded.

As they walked, you asked the staff member, "What happened? Is Lando okay?"

"He won't get in his car," the staff member stated. "He said he needed to see you before he goes."

Your heart sank as you realized that you had let the time slip away. You knew how important it was to be there for Lando before he left, and now you were filled with regret for not keeping your promise. You quickened your pace, hoping that you would be able to reach him in time and make things right.

"Kid, she's not coming," Zac tried to convince him, "You'll see her after the race anyway,"

"But I can't race without seeing her," Lando insisted, his determination unwavering.

"But Lando," Zac pleaded, "this is your chance to prove yourself on the track. You've worked so hard for this opportunity."

Lando shook his head, determination in his eyes. "If she's not coming, then I'm not going," he said firmly, his mind made up.

"Wait, Lando!" you called out, catching up to him just in time. "I'm here, I'm sorry for being late. I couldn't bear the thought of you racing without seeing you first."

Lando's eyes softened as he looked at you. A mix of relief and love filled his expression. "I can't do this without you," he whispered, taking your hand in his.

As you stood there, hand in hand with Lando, you knew that the cameras were capturing this intimate moment between the two of you. But in that moment, you didn't care about the public scrutiny or the potential backlash.

All that mattered was being there for each other, supporting one another through the highs and lows.

The pressure of the race, the expectations, and the regrets of being late all faded away as you stood there, united and ready to face whatever challenges came your way.

"What's the problem?" you asked worriedly, ready to fight anyone for Lando.

"I need my good luck kiss," Lando said desperately, his eyes pleading with you.

"You're telling me that you won't go because you wanted a kiss from me?" you slapped his shoulder gently, your disbelief evident in your voice.

Lando grinned sheepishly, his determination momentarily wavering. "Well, yeah, I guess so," he admitted, his eyes searching yours for any sign of agreement.

Despite the urgency of the situation, you couldn't help but smile at his request. You leaned in and pressed your lips against his cheek, sending a wave of reassurance and love through his body.

"Good luck Lando," you said.

"Thanks, I'll win for you, okay," Lando replied, grinning, running over to his car and driving off at the start of the race.

As you watched him go, a mixture of nerves and excitement filled your heart, knowing that you would be cheering him on every step of the way, no matter what.

"I can't believe that he wasn't going to go without your 'good luck' kiss," you heard Zac say beside you, tired of Lando's behavior.

"I know, it's ridiculous," you replied, shaking your head in disbelief. "But that's just Lando being Lando. He's always had this superstition about needing a good luck kiss before a race. I guess I've just gotten used to it."

"At this point, you two should get together," Zac stated.

You chuckled and glanced at Zac, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. "Well, maybe it's about time we make it official," you replied, a hint of excitement in your voice.

Zac grinned and nodded approvingly, knowing that you and Lando were meant to be together.

You smiled at Zac's comment, realizing that there was truth in his words. It was clear that your bond with Lando went beyond superstitions and good luck kisses.

As you watched the race unfold, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, it was time to take your relationship to the next level. . . .

The Miami Grand Prix was a thrilling and intense race from start to finish. Lando showcased his exceptional driving skills, maneuvering through the challenging turns and maintaining a competitive edge.

He faced tough competition from other skilled drivers, each vying for the top spot. As the laps progressed, Lando's determination remained unwavering, his focus unwavering as he pushed the limits of his car.

Despite the challenges of intense competition and the demanding nature of the race track, Lando remained composed and strategic.

He skillfully navigated through tight turns, battled for position, and made split-second decisions to maintain his competitive edge. It was a true test of his abilities, but Lando's determination and skill shone through, propelling him closer to victory.

The crowd erupted in cheers as he made daring overtakes and showcased his racing prowess.

In the end, Lando emerged victorious, crossing the finish line with a triumphant smile on his face, proving once again that he was a force to be reckoned with in the world of racing.

You were on your feet as soon as he passed the chequered flag, your heart pounding with excitement. The roar of the crowd enveloped you as you joined in the celebration, cheering and clapping for Lando's incredible victory.

The moment was electric, filled with a sense of pride and joy that only intensified as you made your way to the podium to congratulate him on his well-deserved win.

Seeing his triumphant smile up close, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride and joy, knowing that you were there to witness this unforgettable moment in Lando's racing career.

Tears of happiness streamed down your face as you witnessed the culmination of his hard work and dedication, knowing that this victory was not only a testament to his talent

"Let's go, you have a grand prix victory kiss to deliver," Zac said, coming out of nowhere to help you get through the crowd.

People already started to give space as soon as they saw you, having a knowing grin on their faces. It was clear that they recognized you as someone special, someone who was close to the victorious driver.

As you made your way through the crowd, their excitement and anticipation grew, and you could feel their admiration and respect for being part of Lando's inner circle.

The moment you reached where Lando was, the crowd erupted into cheers once again, celebrating not only Lando's victory but also your presence and support throughout his journey.

As you approached Lando, he was still tightly embracing his team, their faces beaming with pride and joy. You waited patiently, soaking in the atmosphere and reflecting on the incredible journey that led to this victorious moment.

The sight of their camaraderie and shared joy warmed your heart, as you knew that their teamwork and support had played a crucial role in Lando's success.

As the team staff pointed at you and yelled, "Aye there's your girlfriend mate!", you couldn't help but blush.

Lando immediately turned around, his eyes falling on you, the biggest grin on his face. He hurriedly made his way towards you, pushing through the crowd, and swept you up in a tight embrace.

"We did it" he whispered, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

"You did it, Lando. It was all you," you said, your voice filled with genuine admiration and pride.

"No, you were my motivation to win," he replied, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck. "Oh please, don't give me that cliché line," you teased, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips. "But I'm glad I could be there to support you. Congratulations, champ."

You pushed his head gently closer, feeling the electricity between you two intensify as your lips inched closer. The anticipation grew with each passing second, and the world seemed to fade away as you both leaned in, your breathing becoming shallow and quick.

Finally, your lips met in a gentle, tender kiss, savoring the moment of victory and shared love. The kiss started soft and sweet, but soon grew more passionate and intense, fueled by the adrenaline and emotions of the triumphant race.

The kiss started softly, a gentle exploration of each other's lips, but soon grew more intense, fueled by the passion and desire that had been building between you for so long.

The once gentle kisses turned into a hungry exchange, as your lips moved together in perfect sync, leaving no doubt about the depth of your love and longing for each other.

As your lips moved together in perfect sync, Lando's hands tightened their grip on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

The intensity of the kiss mirrored the intensity of the emotions coursing through both of you, solidifying the connection that had been growing between you for so long.

Your hands were tangling in his sweaty hair, the sensation only adding to the exhilaration of the moment. The soft strands slipped through your fingers as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the taste and feel of him.

Time seemed to stand still as you both surrendered to the passion, knowing that this victory was not just about the race, but about the love that had brought you together.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, your heart still racing with desire. "As much as I would love to stay here with you, you have a podium to attend in just a few minutes," you reminded him with a playful smile, trying to catch your breath.

Lando pouted at your response but knew he had to leave. "You know where to meet me right?" he whispered, his eyes filled with longing and anticipation, as he reluctantly pulled away, knowing that the celebration would have to wait until later.

"Of course," you replied, your voice filled with the same longing and anticipation. "I'll meet you at our spot as soon as the podium ceremony is over."

He grinned mischievously, stealing one last kiss before reluctantly tearing himself away from you.

The taste of him lingered on your lips as he hurriedly made his way to the podium, leaving you breathless and longing for the moment when you could meet again at your special spot. . . .

As Lando made his way to the media section to be interviewed for his win, his mind couldn't help but wander back to you. Thoughts of your passionate kiss lingered in his thoughts.

He couldn't wait for the podium ceremony to be over so that he could reunite with you at your spot and continue where you had left off.

However, he then felt something on his lips and he snapped out of it, moving away from it - it was a staff cleaning his lips with a cloth.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm only cleaning the lipstick from your lips," The staff answered, confused of his actions. He always let them clean his face before an interview.

He thought of the lipstick you had on which was now on his lips.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in Lando's mischievous mind. With a playful smirk, he leaned closer to the staff member and whispered, "Leave a little lipstick on, just to remind everyone who truly won today."

The staff member couldn't help but chuckle at Lando's mischievous request. Knowing that Lando was the race's victor and had a certain charm that couldn't be resisted, they nodded and left a hint of lipstick on his lips, complying with his playful demand.

As Lando headed to the media section, he couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence, knowing that he had left his mark not only on the race but also on the hearts of the fans.

As Lando approached the interviewer, he confidently took the microphone in his hand. The male interviewer greeted him with a smile, ready to delve into Lando's victorious race and capture his electrifying energy for the fans.

Interviewer asked politely, "Congratulations on your incredible win, Lando! How does it feel to come out on top today?"

"Thank you! It feels absolutely amazing. The race was intense, but I stayed focused and pushed myself to the limit. The car was performing exceptionally well, and my team did an outstanding job with the strategy." Lando replied with, "It's a fantastic feeling to see all the hard work pay off."

"You certainly had everyone on the edge of their seats! Can you walk us through that nail-biting overtaking maneuver in the final lap?"

"Oh, that was a heart-stopping moment for sure! I saw an opportunity to make a move, and I knew I had to seize it. The adrenaline was pumping, and I went for it." Lando explained.

"The car responded perfectly, and I managed to make the pass stick. It was a risky move, but it paid off, and I couldn't be happier with the outcome."

"I can't help but notice the lipstick stain on your lips," The interviewer commented on.

Lando chuckled, his mischievous charm shining through. "Ah, yes, a little souvenir from the victory celebration," he replied with a wink.

"Just a small reminder of the exhilaration and triumph of this race." The interviewer smiled, intrigued by Lando's playful nature, and continued with the interview.

The interviewer laughed, finding Lando's playful nature endearing. "Well, it certainly adds a unique touch to your victory," they replied. "Now, let's talk about the reaction from your fans. Social media is buzzing with excitement over your win. How does it feel to have such a dedicated and passionate fanbase supporting you?"

Lando's smile widened as he replied, "I am incredibly grateful for my fans. Their support means the world to me. It's humbling to know that my performance on the track resonates with so many people. I couldn't ask for better support."

"As you were about to pass the chequered flag, who or what were yout thinking of?"

"As I approached the chequered flag, my mind was filled with a mix of emotions and thoughts. Of course, my family and friends were on my mind, but Y/N was definitely the one who occupied my thoughts the most throughout the race. Her support and encouragement gave me that extra push to go for the win." Lando answered with a smile, his voice filled with affection and gratitude.

"Was your motivation to get your victory kiss?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Lando said, pointing at his face with a grin. "That victory kiss from Y/N was definitely a motivating factor. Knowing that I had her waiting at the finish line made me push even harder."

"Well, I'll let you go celebrate your win," the interviewer said, acknowledging Lando's eagerness to savor his victory. "But before you go, one last question: what does this win mean for you and your racing career?"

"This win means everything to me and my racing career. It's a validation of all the hard work, dedication, and sacrifices that I've made to get to this point. It's a stepping stone towards achieving my ultimate goals and solidifying my place in the racing world."

As the camera stopped recording and the microphone was taken from him, the interviewer thanked Lando for his time and congratulated him once again on his impressive victory.

Lando ran over to the podium, a mixture of exhilaration and exhaustion coursing through his veins. As he reached for the trophy, a surge of pride washed over him.

This trophy symbolized not only his victory, but also the culmination of years of hard work, determination, and perseverance.

Lando held the trophy high above his head, basking in the cheers and applause from the crowd, knowing that this moment would forever be etched in his memory as one of his proudest achievements. . . .

As you sat in Lando's driver's room, waiting for him to finish with his interviews, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for his incredible achievement.

The way he spoke about you during the interview filled your heart with warmth, knowing that you were his biggest source of motivation and inspiration.

You couldn't wait to congratulate him in person and celebrate this momentous win together.

As you sat in Lando's driver's room, waiting for him to finish with his interviews, you couldn't help but remember the passionate kiss you shared before he had to leave for the race. Your finger grazed over your lips, still tingling from the lingering sensation.

Your hands were tangling in his sweaty hair, the sensation only adding to the exhilaration of the moment. The soft strands slipped through your fingers as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the taste and feel of him.

Your thoughts of the moment of the kiss were interrupted by the door opening and you quickly pulled your hand away from your lips, hoping no one had seen the intimate gesture.

It revealed a beaming Lando with the trophy in his hands. His eyes met yours, and a wide grin spread across his face as he rushed towards you, engulfing you in a tight embrace.

His head was buried into your neck, and you could feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest. The scent of victory and adrenaline filled the air as you held each other tightly, savoring the moment of triumph.

The world around you faded away, and in that embrace, you knew that you were not only celebrating his win, but also the deep bond and love that you shared.

"Can we continue what we stopped before?" Lando asked, his voice low and husky against your neck. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his words stirred up the same desire that had ignited between you earlier.

With a mischievous smile, you whispered back, "I think we can definitely make some time for that, especially after this incredible victory."

The anticipation in Lando's eyes mirrored your own as you both shared a knowing look, ready to relish in the passionate moments that awaited you.

Lando's hands were curling around your waist, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and you couldn't help but melt into his strong arms.

In that moment, all you wanted was to lose yourself in his touch and continue where you left off, savoring every delicious second of the passion that awaited you both.

Your lips molded together in a perfect harmony, the softness of his contrasting with the passion in his kiss. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, a mixture of mint and desire.

As your fingers entwined in his hair, you reveled in the sensation of the sweat-soaked strands slipping through your grasp, adding to the intoxicating thrill of the moment. The world around you ceased to exist as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the electric connection that pulsed between you.

The pressure of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that could only be quenched by his touch. Your hearts beat in sync, the rhythm of desire pounding through your chests.

Time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to the taste, the feel, and the sheer intoxication of his kiss.

Every nerve ending in your body came alive, as if electrified by the raw passion that flowed between you.

Lando pulled back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, trust me, baby," he said with a sly grin, "We're just getting started. I have plenty more in store for you tonight."

His teasing words sent a surge of anticipation through you, and you couldn't help but giggle in response.

"Is that so?" you countered, your voice dripping with flirtation. "Well, I can't wait to see what you have in mind. But first, let's celebrate this victory properly."

The air crackled with excitement as you both leaned in for another passionate kiss, ready to explore the depths of desire together. . . .

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 8

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.

Sadly, Max didn’t get to push George Russell of the track. Instead he accidentally hit Oscar in the first corner, which definitely hadn’t been on purpose…and also resulted in another penalty point and a 10 second penalty.

He was really done with this season.

At the same time, Charles carved his way up from P19 to P2 in which, what Max was pretty sure, could only be described as going on the warpath. Max was honestly just impressed at the speed with which Charles had managed to claw himself up to P2, and he would have applauded the effort if he hadn’t been so damn frustrated with everything else.

At this point, he just wanted to get the race done and over with and go home. He'd have time to worry about the penalty later - he just wanted to get this race over the finish line so that he could get a flight to Monaco and to Colette.

With that thought in mind, the last 12 laps went by in a blur, and it felt like no time at all until the checkered flag appeared.

For the first time all season, Max didn’t bother trying to push beyond the limit for an extra few seconds of time.Because quite frankly, it didn’t actually matter.

McLaren had gotten the constructor championship for the first time in 26 years.

"t may not have been the fastest race but I just wanted to say a big thank you for the season, guys. It hasn’t been easy at times, we still have quite a few things to improve on but we still won a world championship.  So, thank you for all the hard work the whole year," Max said into the radio. "Enjoy your time off and then we’ll go back at it again next year. Thank you, guys."

And now Max finally got to go home to Colette.

GP's voice came over the radio. "Get weighed and then we need you to come into the garage as quickly as possible, Max." 

Max furrowed his brows at the words. That was…odd. Why would he need to go to the garage immediately?

"Is everything alright?" he demanded. 

GP didn’t answer immediately, which did nothing to diminish Max’s worry.

His heart skipped a beat when the engineer finally responded, hesitantly. “Just come to the garage, please. Quickly.”He had wanted to apologise to Oscar about their incident in the first corner at the start, but that was quickly forgotten, at the tone in GP's voice.

It sounded alarmed and anxious, and that got Max's heart racing. Something was wrong, something was wrong, and he needed to get to the garage to find out what it was.

It took him an incredible amount of self-restraint not to outright bolt out of the car and charge into the garage, but he somehow managed to get out of the car, weighed himself in and all but dashed towards the garage.

"GP?!" he called out as he stormed into the garage. "What the hell is going on? What’s wrong? Why-"

GP was the one who dragged him into one of the side rooms, where no cameras would see the exchange that followed. There was Christian waiting, as well as his father. 

This wasn't good.

The sight was alarming enough to make him freeze. His heart seemed to skip a beat.

"I-” Max cut himself off, staring at the three men. "What- what's going on?"

"Colette is in labour," Christian answered. "Her brother Arthur texted me. Your pilot filed flight plans thirty minutes ago. There is a car waiting to take you to the airport."

For a moment, Max’s brain just froze altogether, his thoughts screeching to a halt.

His vision wavered as the words echoed in his head, and he had to reach out and grab a hold of the wall next to him as his legs tried to buckle.

He couldn’t have read those words right. There was no way - she had four more weeks. They had more time, Colette couldn’t be in labour.

But it was GP's voice that was cutting through the fog in his head. “Max.  Are you with us?”

Max had to take a deep breath, forcing his mind into action.

"Yeah," he heard himself croak out. The only thought in his mind was that he had to get to the airport. He had to get home as fast as he possibly could.

“We need to get Charles," he demanded. “I don’t care how you do it. I’ll pay whatever ridiculous fine the FIA demands. But if he finds out I left without him, he’s going to kill me.”

There was no doubt about that. 

Max was dimly aware that all three men were looking at him with varying levels of sympathy - but he didn’t care. He only had one thought in his mind, and that was getting to Colette as soon as goddamn possible.

"Gemma is getting him right now," Christian promised him. "I already talked with Ferrari...or screamed at them, that is more likely. So did Arthur apparently. I need to warn you though, the press is swarming outside, especially after your father's little interview," he said darkly.

"What interview?" Max asked, staring at his father. What interview were they talking about?!

"I talked to Sky News about your anger issues," his father said drily.

"Correction," GP snapped. "You told Sky News that Colette and Max are a couple and that their baby is due any day."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and they were like a punch to the gut. His father had done what?

"You told the damn media she’s having our baby?" he exclaimed, staring at the older man. "Have you completely lost your mind?!"

"No, I merely said it’s due any day," Jos snapped. "Not that it's actually on the way. Calm down, I only said it because you need to stop denying that you two are an item, it’s getting ridiculous!"

Max honestly didn’t even know how to react to the words. Normally, he would’ve been furious right now. His father had just gone and announced their private life to the entire world. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the fact that Colette was currently in labour…

"He also said and I quote It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough!" GP snapped, looking and sounding more furious than Max had ever seen him before. 

For a moment, Max almost choked and he whirled to his father, his eyes wide. "You-" the words got stuck in his throat. "We’ve been trying for nearly three years. Colette had two miscarriages!"

All of a sudden, the anger that had been boiling inside of Max just evaporated into thin air, leaving only cold, burning rage behind. He took a shuddering breath, his whole body trembling violently. "How. Dare. You," he spat. Even he was surprised how menacing it sounded, but he was also way beyond caring.

"You never said," his father said, nearly silently.

“Clearly I had a good reason,” Max bit out. “We lost two babies. And you are telling us that we took our time? How. Dare. You."

There was a flicker of something in his father’s eyes, which looked awfully similar to pain and regret, but Max was far too furious to care about some kind of guilt.

"You have no right-" he bit out, his voice trembling with anger, "No right to talk or say anything about-"

"It was already out anyway," his father defended himself.

The words made Max freeze again, and he slowly straightened, the cold fury rushing through his veins and making him feel lightheaded. He clenched his jaw, fighting to find the right words, even if he was pretty sure he was about to completely lose it.

“Another word. About her, about our baby. About either of them,” he snarled, his words low and dripping with venom. “ And I will have absolutely no problem with completely and permanently cutting you out of my life, vader.  You’ll be dead to me. To Colette. To our baby. Is. That. Clear? Colette is not something that we are going to negotiate about. It didn’t work when I was 15. It‘s not working now!"

Surprisingly enough, Jos didn’t reply. The only sound in the room was of Max’s ragged breathing.

He didn’t notice Christian’s worried glance in his direction, but GP’s low and quiet voice cut through his thoughts. "Max."

Max flinched, and he forced himself to get a grip. For a half a second, he couldn’t bring himself to turn to look at the people around him.

Finally, he straightened, forcing his legs to move and his mouth to form a response. “Yeah.”

“There is a car waiting. Go,” GP told him calmly. There really wasn’t any reason to linger, and if he were to say anything else, he was in serious risk of exploding.

Max took a deep breath and moved towards the door, the need to see Colette driving every thought out of his mind.

All the anger and adrenaline made it very easy to push through the hoard of reporters and journalists waiting just outside the garage, his mind laser focused.

There were cameras flashing and reporters shouting questions, but he ignored them all. His only priority was to get to Colette.

At the same time as his single-minded determination helped him to power through the throng of people and reach the car waiting for him, his mind was also whirling with a thousand different questions.

What happens if the baby came right now? What if something went wrong? What if-

***

Charles had known that something was wrong. But then...he had been having that feeling for days. Colette was feeling anxious and scared and angry and a thousand other things and Charles would have known that she was feeling that way, even if he hadn't texted her. 

They had always known if something was wrong with each other. They had always known what the other one was feeling.

That had always been their connection…He loved his brothers more than anything. He did. But they weren’t Colette. They weren’t his twin sister. 

Two lives, two halves of one whole. He would never feel complete without Colette. 

Charles could always tell if something was wrong with his twin. And for days now, something had been very, very wrong.

And still he had soldiered on. He had dragged his car from P19 up to P3. Just behind Carlos...two podiums for Ferrari but not enough to clinch the constructor's championship.

He had only done so because he had known that Colette was never gonna let him hear the end of it if he didn't do his very best.

Just like she had been with him during that Formula 2 race less than 48 hours after their father had died…and she had told him to get into that damn car and race in circles, she had done the same this time. 

And he had listened. 

Of course, he had. 

Still...he had never been more thankful that a Race was over than he was of this one. He was just happy that it was over. 

He followed along to the cooldown room on autopilot, Lando already, then Carlos following after him.

The absolute drama that went down there next...well, it simply started with a commotion. And screaming.

The next things they knew, there was Camilla, PR from Ferrari, in what could only be described as a screaming match with Gemma from Red Bull...with security following along as Gemma more or less threw herself into the cooldown room, completely ignoring what anybody else was telling her. 

Charles stared, utterly bewildered. What the hell was going on here? 

Why was Gemma here, literally shoving her way into the cooldown room and throwing herself at him, security struggling to stop her?

"He deserves to know!" Gemma snapped at Camilla. "You cannot keep this from him! This is about his family. We have tried to talk to Ferrari, you are either ignoring our calls or telling us that there is no way you'll tell him until after the interviews are done. What is wrong with you?"

“What the hell is going on?” Charles managed to finally find his voice. What was happening? What were they talking about? What the hell was wrong with Ferrari? "Someone, anyone, give me an answer!"

The only person who seemed willing to answer was Camilla and the look on her face was completely unapologetic. "You are a Ferrari driver," she said simply, as if that explained everything. "There is nothing that goes on with you while you are driving that takes precedence over your job."

"He isn't driving now," Gemma snapped, as she turned towards Charles. "Your sister is in the hospital. Max's pilot has filed flight plans. There is a car waiting to bring you both back to Monaco."

That got Charles' attention like nothing else would have done. In one second, he went from baffled confusion to absolute shock and alarm. His eyes widened, his heart beginning to pound as adrenaline and fear suddenly flooded his system. "She's...she's...what?" he asked hoarsely.

"In the hospital," Gemma repeated, giving him a pointed look.

"What happened?" Lando demanded suddenly. "Is Colette alright?"

"Is something wrong with the baby?" Charles choked out. 

With the baby. No. No. Not again. 

He had seen his sister utterly heartbroken twice about her two miscarriages. 

And these two miscarriages had been horrible. Heartbreaking. Devastating. Had destroyed her. But they hadn't been...They had been early on in the pregnancy.

They hadn't been after Colette had spent months pouring over baby name books and buying things for the nursery, after she had let him feel the baby kick in her belly...after...after all of this...

"What baby?!" Lando blurted out suddenly, but Charles ignroe that. 

"Max's pilot has filed flight plans. There is a car waiting to bring you both back to Monaco," Gemma repeated. "But you need to come with me now, Charles.” 

"He's not coming with you!" Camilla snapped. "Charles has media obligations!"

"I don't give a fuck about my media obligations!" Charles snapped back at her. He was literally shaking with the sheer strength of his anger. "My sister is in the hospital! I am going. Now."

Charles didn't wait for a response. He was already headed towards the exit, his blood thundering in his ears as confusion and fear and anger raced through his body. The only thing that was going through his head was Colette was in the hospital, Colette was in the hospital, Colette. was. In. The. Hospital.

If anybody tried to stop him now, he would have absolutely no problem going straight through them.

"You are a Ferrari driver," Camilla growled.

"And," Charles snarled, whipping around to look at her. "I am a brother. And a twin. And she is my other half. She is in the damn hospital, and you tried to keep that information from me. What, did Ferrari think that I just wouldn’t care?"

That seemed to render her speechless for a moment, but only for a moment. "We believed," she said coldly, with an undercurrent of anger beneath. "That you would remain professional and focus on your job as you were paid to do so."

"Are you serious?" Lando snapped at that moment. "His sister is in the hospital and you want him to do interviews!?"

"I was not speaking to you, Norris," Camilla said, in a voice that could freeze water. "It is none of your business. We are trying to deal with a delicate public relations issue here that you don't understand."

"I have sisters too," Carlos snapped. "And you better believe that if one of them was in the hospital, I would be there too." 

"Go," Lando told Charles at that moment. "GO."

Charles didn't need to be told twice. He was already halfway out the door. There was only one thought on his mind. Colette.

[katsu28]

welcome to miami

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: lando wins miami, and you're there to see it happen (2.1k)

a/n: had to crank this one out for lando's first win 🧡 i'm still buzzing with excitement and pride omg

You’d decided to fly out to Miami on a whim, really. 

The last race you’d gone to had been a whole ordeal for you. The airline had nearly lost your luggage, Lando’s request for your paddock pass hadn’t gone through in time so you had to sit outside for hours until things got sorted out, just a few of the many things that definitely weren’t great.

But all things aside, Lando had done great in the race and you were there to witness him in his element—something you’d always love to see.

With all the chaos that seemed to come with the Miami Grand Prix, Lando assured you he’d understand if you wanted to sit this one out. You really were planning to stay behind, honest to god. But when you’d wished him luck and kissed him goodbye before he left for Miami, something in you shifted. 

Something was telling you to go, to be there for him in the flesh, even though it could get crazy and it was definitely a little bit out of your comfort zone. But your love for your boyfriend spanned far and beyond, so you did it. 

The unfortunate thing about the last minute planning was that your flight landed at the same time the race began. Between the mad scramble to make your redeye and confirm things like your pass and credentials when you got to the track, you’d forgotten to actually tell Lando you were coming. 

By the time you’d touched down in Miami, it was far too late. You’d have to settle for surprising him afterwards. 

You arrived at the paddock a little over halfway through the race, collapsing into an armchair at McLaren hospitality with the biggest sigh known to man. Your neck ached, your feet were killing you, you were starving and it was too damn hot here in Miami.

Maybe you could go grab some food in a second, but right now you were so exhausted you wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d fallen asleep right there and then.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice drew you out of your stupor a while later, and you looked up to see Oscar’s girlfriend Lily staring back, a mix of confused and glad to see you. “Oh my god, you’re here! Lando said you weren't coming, he’s going to be so happy to see you!” 

“Yeah, it was a last minute thing, honestly. Lando doesn't even know I’m here.” 

“You must be on the edge of your seat right now.”

“Sorry?” 

 Lily nodded over your shoulder. “He’s winning. Lando’s leading the race, look.”

Suddenly you were wide awake, previous fatigue gone and forgotten as you spun around to look at one of the big screens showing the race. Lo and behold, there Lando was, holding steady at the front of the pack a good few seconds ahead of Max’s RedBull. 

“Holy shit.” You blinked a few times in disbelief, because maybe you were seeing things, but nothing changed. Lando was still P1 with only a handful of laps to go. “Holy shit!” 

“He’s gonna do it, Y/N. Lando’s gonna win.” Lily promised, squeezing your hand tightly. 

And she was right. 

The entire McLaren portion of the paddock erupted into deafening cheers the moment Lando sped past the waving checkered flag, you included. You were cheering so loud you felt your ears start to ring.

People were jumping around with each other left and right, folks you didn’t know hugging you and congratulating you on Lando’s win. It was odd, because you weren’t the one who’d won, it was your boyfriend, but you accepted the praise nonetheless. 

He’d done it. For the first time in his career, Lando had won. All the hard work, all the long days and sleepless nights, all the time and energy and training the entire team had put in to make a dream a reality had finally paid off. 

It felt like a sort of out-of-body experience for you, watching Lando throw himself across the barrier into his team, seeing him up on the top step of the podium with his first P1 trophy. Part of it didn’t feel real, but it was. 

You could hardly sit still while you waited for Lando and the rest of the team to return to the paddock. Of course he had to do a couple post-race interviews, the podium press conference, all that stuff, but you could stick it out. All would be worth it to see the look on his face when he saw that you were here instead of back home. 

It was only fitting that you heard them all coming before you saw them. Cheering, chanting, you even heard some singing going on, and then there he was. He was nothing but smiles all around as you watched him break away from the others and pull out his phone. 

It took everything you had in you not to yell out his name. Instead, you video called him with shaky hands, waiting eagerly for him to pick up. He answered immediately, his gleefully smiling face filling your screen. 

“Hi, I won!” He exclaimed, beaming so big and bright his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I won Miami!”

“I know! I’m so proud of you, Lan!” 

“I really wish you were here to see it, but it’s alright. Everything is so crazy here, I—” He stopped in his tracks as soon as he glanced back down at his screen, bringing the phone so close to his face you could only see one of his eyes and the fading cut across his nose. 

“What’re you doing, bub?” You laughed, feigning cluelessness. 

“Where are you? It’s…” His nose scrunched adorably as he tried to calculate the time difference in his head. “Eleven at night back home, why is it bright out on your end?”

“Maybe I’m not at home.” You shrugged, angling your own phone towards the McLaren logo behind you casually. “Maybe I’m…”

“No. What the fuck? Are you—” He cut himself off a second time, squinting at his phone. It was funny, watching his head whip up both on your screen and from where you were standing, even funnier when he clocked you instantly and all but threw his phone off to the side as he broke out in a full on sprint towards you. “Holy fuck, you’re here! How—what—” Lando was so shocked he couldn’t even finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to.

You let him all but tackle you around the waist, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as he spun you around a few times. He was hot and sticky with champagne and smelled like sweat and gasoline, but you didn’t care. You were so beyond proud of him you couldn’t even put it into words. Not bursting into tears of pride was all you could do. 

It turned out you couldn’t even do that, because as soon as your feet touched the ground again and he pulled back to look at you with stars in his eyes, the tears started to gather in yours. 

“Oh my god, are you crying?” He laughed, big hands coming up to cup your face tenderly. His thumb swiped over your cheek, catching a lone tear that had managed to escape. “Don’t cry, woman, or else I’ll start crying again.” 

“Of course I’m crying, you dick!” You exclaimed, sniffling a few times in hopes of keeping the waterworks at bay. “I’m happy, I’m proud, I’m really fucking jet lagged right now, I don’t know what I’m doing!” 

“So this is why you weren’t answering my texts!” He exclaimed, holding you at arms length. Even that only lasted a fleeting moment before he was bringing you right back in for another bone-crushing hug. “I knew you weren’t ignoring me! Oscar was being a dickhead, he said I was being clingy.”

“I’m sorry, I was twenty thousand feet in the air at the time.” You gave a watery chuckle, tightening your arms around his neck. “I’m so, so fucking proud of you, baby. Never had a doubt in my mind that you’d be a Grand Prix winner one day. Kinda wish that day was one where I could’ve put on a cuter outfit, ‘cause I can already picture all the god awful photos of this moment right now, but whatever.” 

“Thank you. Thank you for standing by me, thank you for loving me—thank you for everything. I love you. I love you so much.” Lando said, lips pressed to the crown of your head. “I’m beyond fucking lucky to have you, darling. And you always look cute, what’re you even talking about?” 

“You may be a winner now but you’re still a god awful liar, Lando Norris.” 

“Shut up and c’mere,” He murmured, tugging you flush against him with a hand splayed across your back. Before you could say a word, he tilted your chin up with his thumb and pointer finger and he kissed you, finally.

It wasn’t a graceful kiss by any means, but it didn’t matter. He tasted sweet like champagne and victory as he kissed you with his whole soul, nearly knocking you backwards had he not been keeping you firmly in place. 

He pulled away far too early, but pressed one more, much shorter kiss to your lips before he gave you a not-so-subtle once over. Concern bloomed across his face, and instantly you readied yourself for the barrage of questions coming your way in three, two, one. 

“How was your flight? Are you tired? I still can’t believe you forgot to tell me you were coming. Do you want to head to the hotel? I think I've got some more media stuff to do, but I can send for a car to take you back now and I’ll meet you later?” 

“I’m fine, you muppet! Stop fussing over me.” You griped playfully, nudging him with your elbow. “Do what you have to do, I’ll wait here for you.” 

Lando tutted, pressing close to murmur into your ear, breath hot. “What I want to do and what I have to do are two very different things. One involves you, and I can’t do it with all these people around, but—” 

“Lando.” 

“What?” He pouted. You reached up to tug at his earlobe, to which he huffed out a sigh. “Fine. We’ll discuss it later then. I was actually supposed to fly home tonight to get back to you, if you wanted to know.” 

“Really?” Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words. He could’ve done anything he wanted the night following the race, but he’d booked a flight to go home to you. 

“Of course. No matter what the outcome could’ve been, I wanted to see you.” He replied, smiling warmly at you. You turned your head towards him, puckering your lips for a kiss that he happily planted on you. “But since you’re here and not thousands of miles away…how ‘bout we celebrate? Dinner out, maybe go clubbing? Miami’s got a killer party scene, I’ve heard. Unless you’re tired from your flight, we could always just stay in.” 

“My winner wants to go clubbing, then we go clubbing.” You said firmly. Good thing you’d thrown that dress Lando loved on you into your bag, just in case. (Though you suspected he wouldn't have minded buying you a brand new one if you asked.) 

“Your winner, huh?” Lando beamed. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Formula 1 winner Lando Norris takes on Miami! To the clubs we go!” 

-------

“We shouldn't have gone clubbing.” 

You glanced up from where your face had been buried in Lando’s shoulder since the plane had taken off, squinting at your boyfriend through bleary eyes. Even the dim light of the cabin was almost too much for the throbbing in your head, making you wince. “Huh?” 

“Last night. We should’ve just ordered takeaway. Watched a movie or something.” 

“You wanted to go out though?” 

He let out a pained groan, shifting in his seat gingerly. “Yeah, and look where that got me.” 

“What’re you even—oh.” You blinked a few times, and when your vision cleared, you saw it. A ugly looking bruise right above his eyebrow, darkening the surrounding skin. “Did you get that last night?” Lando nodded, prodding at the area gently before you had the sense to swat his hand away. “Stop touching it. I don’t even remember how you did that. I don’t really remember a lot of last night, really.” 

“Me neither.” He snuggled deeper into you, letting his cheek fall against the top of your head comfortably. “Next time I suggest something, tell me I’m being stupid.” 

“I love you even when you suggest stupid things.” 

Lando scowled, but not for long until it morphed into a wince. “I’m too hungover to even argue with that right now. I love you too.” 

“Lando Norris, Grand Prix winner, parties so hard he doesn’t know how he injured himself. Nice.” 

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?” 

You dotted a kiss to his cheek, smiling bright as you could manage. “No. Do you want me to stop calling you that?” 

“...No.”

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[dannyriccsystem]

Can you write some fluff for Ollie please?

FORMULA ONE DRIVER X READER

summary: Ollie comes home late after a Formula One afterparty, only to find you already asleep.

warnings: Usage of Y/N, tipsy!Ollie

featuring: Oliver Bearman x reader

Of course!! Thank you for the request ☺️ I had to watch some Ollie interviews, and it was fun writing him

As always, Requests Open! ☆ Check pinned for more info :) Always appreciated

It was one of those nights Y/N loved. A soft rain pattered down against the windows of her hotel in Melbourne, bustling with excited race fans discussing the winners of the latest Grand Prix. If you went to any club on that very street, you’d find at least five drivers or mechanics celebrating respectively, even if they came dead last. To some, a victory was a trophy. For others, victory was making it to that checkered flag in one piece.

She sat by the window, watching lamp-lit streets shift with moving shadows. Big, small, it didn’t matter— What everyone had in common was their mutual love of racing. There were seas of red, blue, orange, and so on. Every team had its fans, dedicated to their title. Y/N finally pulled away, her drooping eyelids blinking away a moment of sleep to take in the time. She couldn’t quite register the numbers, but her brain realized it was late.

She knew Ollie would be out late, because he told her so. She was just fine with him going out to celebrate with his teammates and close friends, but opted to not go herself, as she had some work to finish up online. She had wanted to stay up and wait for him, but unfortunately it seemed like slumber would claim her before he’d even get the chance.

Her body sunk into the mattress, lazy hands halfheartedly pulling the soft duvet over her achingly tired body. She was out like a light, her buzzing mind slowing to let sleep take over.

—

Knock knock.

That’s when she initially woke up. The soft patter of a fist against the room’s door. Yet, it wasn’t enough to completely break the balance between reality and a soft fantasy. When Y/N was just about to slip back into sleep, she heard whispers from outside.

“Mate, the door’s open…” A heavy Italian accent slurred, undoubtedly drunk. Kimi.

“Looook. I just tried the door, it’s not opening!” Unmistakably British. Unmistakably Ollie. He sounded whiny, like this mishap was frustrating him beyond words. “Y/N… Open up! Oh, wait. The key is in my pocket, dude.”

There was a soft click, a creak, and then a pattern of a singular pair of footsteps. Y/N hummed, letting her eyes shut as the door shut once more, followed by the sound of the sliding lock shifting into place. She wasn’t yet gone, still listening for shuffling fabric.

“Ow,” He suddenly whined before flopping onto the plump mattress behind her, his muscular hands finding her waist instantaneously. “Y/N,” He slurred out, pulling himself closer. Now, there was much struggle, but eventually he managed to get his chest flush to her back.

“Hmm,” She hummed, leaning back against him. She could feel every muscle ripple with all the slight movements he made, before he eventually stilled. “‘s late.”

“Yeah, m’sorry…” He trailed off, his lips finding the sensitive skin of her neck. He pressed soft, innocent kisses to the exposed muscle. “Had lots’a fun with… Kimi, and… The other one.”

“The other one?” She repeated, her words just as slurred. The difference? He was drunk, she was simply tired. “Esteban, you mean.”

“Yeah, him.” Oliver muttered against her jawline. Esteban and Kimi, however, were long forgotten, replaced by the thought of Y/N’s soft skin and familiar body. “You’re so soft, I love you.”

“Love you too, Ollie.” There was a beat of silence where his actions froze, lips unmoving against her.

“No ‘I’? Just ‘love you’? How am I supposed to know it’s you who loves me.” He sounded seriously offended, pulling back to prop himself up on one elbow, slightly hovering over her. Y/N, in a state of only partial-consciousness, rolled onto her back to look up at him.

“I love you, Ollie.” She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut involuntarily. “Now sleep.”

He hesitated, but eventually lowered himself beside her again. His lanky, muscular limbs tangled with hers, a mop of messy hair upon her chest, tickling her chin and jawline. She huffed, blowing some of the hair away from her mouth.

“G’night.” He whispered, clinging to her.

No response, which prompted him to join her in her slumber.

Honk mimimimi 😴

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - under the checkered flag (part two)

warnings ; none! this is a slowburn, people.

prompt ; in which a girl who doesn’t believe in risks takes the biggest one of all—falling for a man who lives for the thrill.

note ; guys. i am publishing this early bc i simply could not help myself and yall are showing it so much love so i appreciate u <3 however i am trustfrated bc i need reader and jk to do the nasty already… anywho….

playlist here

series masterlist here

There’s a strange comfort in being alone. The quiet hum of your thoughts, the solitude of your space — it’s always been enough. You’ve never needed much beyond your own company, always content to exist on the sidelines of life, watching from a distance. It’s not loneliness, not really. It’s peace. The steady rhythm of your own routine, the safe predictability of your introverted nature. You’ve always been this way, happy with a book, a cup of tea, and the certainty that you control your own space, your own time. The world is full of noise, of excitement, of chaos, but you’ve always been content to observe it, never fully immersing yourself in the rush of it all.

But somehow, despite the certainty you find in this solitude, you find yourself texting Jungkook again and again, throughout the workweek. His messages come more often than you expect, each one lighter, more flirtatious than the last, pulling you into a conversation you didn’t anticipate but can’t seem to avoid. At first, it was just curiosity, a brief response to his persistent charm. But now, you find yourself checking your phone more than you’d like, your fingers hovering over his name. There’s something about his energy, the way he flirts effortlessly, that draws you in, like a magnet you didn’t realize you were attracted to until you couldn’t step away.

And yet, every time he suggests a date, every time he tries to take things further, you hesitate. Not because you’re not attracted to him.. because you are. It’s impossible not to feel the pull of someone like him. His presence is undeniable, his confidence infectious. But there’s a part of you that recoils, that can’t bear to give in to the excitement he brings. The thought of being entangled in his world is a world you can’t let yourself slip into. You’ve always stayed on the edge, always kept your feet firmly planted in the world you know, where things don’t change with the speed of a car zooming down a racetrack.

Every time his texts arrive, filled with playful invitations and gentle teasing, you feel the tug in your chest. But you resist. You have to resist. You can’t let yourself fall for someone who lives a life so far removed from yours, someone who thrives in a world you’ll never belong to. So, you reply with reluctance, your words polite but distant, never giving him the confirmation he’s looking for. You don’t need the chaos. Not now. Not ever.

And yet, something in you wonders: what would it feel like to step outside of your comfort zone? What would it feel like to let go of the walls you’ve carefully built around yourself?

So, you humor yourself. You keep him around.

Jungkook:
"So, what’s your big plan for today? Got any exciting things happening in your peaceful, quiet life?"

You:
"Nothing exciting. Just the usual—work, paperwork, more work."

Jungkook:
"Sounds thrilling.

What about after work? You doing anything exciting then?"

You:
"Probably just go home and binge-watch something. I'm crazy like that."

Jungkook:
"Binge-watching? You’re really selling me on this quiet life.

But hey, if you change your mind, I know a place with great food and zero drama. You in?"

You:
"I don’t know… might just be too much excitement for me."

Jungkook:
"Ah, I see. The 'too much excitement' excuse.

You:
"Haha.”

Jungkook:
“Maybe you could teach me a thing or two about enjoying the quiet."

You:
"I could try... but no promises."

After days of back-and-forth, playful teasing, and persistent messages, you finally give in. It’s not a date, you tell yourself. It’s just dinner. Dinner between two people who text each other more than they probably should. But still, the thought of it sits uneasily in your chest. The idea of stepping into Jungkook’s world, even just for one evening, feels like walking onto a stage you’re not sure you belong on.

You tap your fingers on your desk, glancing at your phone as the confirmation message from Jungkook pops up. “Can’t wait to see you tonight.”

You try to force yourself to focus on work, your heart a little heavier than usual, the weight of the evening ahead bearing down on you. You can’t let yourself think too much about it. He’s just another person, right? Another person who’s persistent, maybe a little too charming, but nothing to be afraid of.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

The workday drags on, like it always does, predictable as ever. You glance at your phone again, and this time, instead of the usual teasing, you read something more direct from Jungkook. “So excited. Don’t forget, it’s just dinner. No pressure, okay?”

You roll your eyes a little, feeling a strange mixture of relief and apprehension. No pressure? Right. As if that’s possible with someone like him.

Jisoo is already on her usual routine of bouncing around with too much energy. She spots you as soon as she walks through the door after her lunch break and practically keels over with excitement.

“Tell me everything!” she demands, leaning over your desk with a huge grin. “Are you going or not? What did he say? Did you finally agree to dinner?”

You pause for a moment, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just dinner. We text a lot, so... I figured why not?”

Jisoo’s eyes widen, her excitement spilling over in a way that only she can manage. “Just dinner? No, no, no—this is a big deal. You’re going out with Jeon Jungkook. You know, the guy who practically owns the racing world and has models and celebrities lining up for him. This is huge! You can’t pretend like this isn’t something.”

She leans in, her voice lowering to a dramatic whisper. “Do you like him?”

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s just dinner,” you repeat, trying to sound confident, though you know it’s not convincing. “We’re not... anything. Just two people who happen to text each other.”

But Jisoo isn’t having it. “Sure, sure. Just two people who text all the time. If that’s how you wanna play it.”

You try to brush it off, but she’s already grabbing her laptop, her fingers flying over the keys as she pulls something up. “You know he’s not just some random guy, right?” she says, clicking away on the screen. “He’s Jeon Jungkook. The Jeon Jungkook. Always in the news, always dating the hottest models and actresses.”

She spins the laptop toward you, and your stomach drops as you glance at the headlines on the screen.

“Jeon Jungkook Spotted with Top Model, Sparks Dating Rumors.”
“Jungkook and Celebrity Couple Call It Quits After ‘Toxic’ Relationship.”
“Racer Jungkook and A-List Actress Enjoy Weekend Getaway Together.”

You feel a pit form in your stomach as you scroll through the headlines. Every article, every story paints him as the ultimate playboy, always surrounded by beautiful women, his love life a constant subject of media attention.

Your heart skips a beat as the realization sinks in. The thought of him, the real him, the man behind the fast cars and the flashing cameras, makes you hesitate.

What would you be doing on a date with him? What could you be to someone like him? Someone who’s always surrounded by perfection, by people who fit into his world of wealth and fame. You’re not that person. You’ve never been that person, and you don’t think you could ever be.

Jisoo leans back in her chair, watching you closely. “What’s going on? You’ve gone quiet. He’s clearly into you. And you’re obviously into him.. he wouldn’t be texting you this much if he wasn’t. You’re not going to let this chance slip away, are you?”

You don’t know how to answer. Your mind is already racing, your thoughts whirling with the images of Jungkook — his charm, his playboy reputation, his world. A world you have no place in.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The quiet of your apartment feels heavier than usual as you stand in front of the mirror, applying the last touches of makeup. The room is calm, but your mind is anything but. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Jungkook; his smile, his confidence, the way he looked when he walked into the VIP box. That pull, that unexpected attraction, it’s there, undeniable. But then, Jisoo’s words echo in your mind. The articles, the headlines, the endless list of women who had come and gone from his world — your world now, for the night, but likely not much longer.

You apply a dab of foundation, but it doesn’t seem to matter. You’re distracted, too distracted by the nagging voice in the back of your head. The voice that keeps reminding you of who he is, who he always is. A man who’s constantly in the press, surrounded by models, actresses, and headlines.

You tell yourself it’s just a casual meal, no pressure, no expectations. But you don’t believe it. Not really.

The silence of the apartment is broken by the faint buzz of your phone. You glance at it, hesitating for just a second before unlocking it. It’s TMZ, one of the countless gossip outlets that you’ve been skimming through all evening. You even turned on post notifications for his name.

Jungkook spotted with new celebrity, who’s next? You scroll, heart pounding, seeing pictures of him with various famous women, flashing their bright smiles at the camera as if the world is watching them fall in love. You swipe through articles on People, on entertainment blogs, seeing him with someone new every few weeks.

He’s always surrounded by them. The thought is impossible to shake. It’s a pattern, one you can’t ignore, one that only grows clearer as you scroll through each new piece of gossip. It’s like the world expects him to be with someone new every week. And yet, here you are, about to meet him for dinner, acting like you’re somehow special, somehow different from all the women who’ve come before you.

You let out a soft, frustrated sigh, but there’s no stopping it now. Your thumb keeps moving, clicking through one article after another. You see him with an actress, laughing over dinner. Another model, posing with him on a yacht. It’s endless, the parade of beautiful women who have come and gone in his life. And with each new article, you feel more and more like you’re out of place, like you’ll be just another name on the list.

But despite it all, there’s a part of you that can’t stop, can’t tear your eyes away from the screen. What would it be like to be the one who stays, instead of the one who’s replaced?

You push the thought away and focus on the mirror again, the reflection staring back at you looking more unsure than you’ve ever felt. It’s too late to back out now. You haven’t even given yourself a chance to. The time is ticking down, and you don’t want to cancel, not after agreeing to it. After all, it’s just dinner, right?

But the more you think about it, the harder it feels to convince yourself that it’s truly no big deal. He’s not the kind of guy you need in your life, you remind yourself, but the words feel hollow, like you’re trying to convince someone else.

Your phone buzzes again, this time with a message from Jungkook: “Almost there! It’s going to be fun.” The words are simple, but they feel like they’re carrying so much more weight than you want them to.

You glance at your reflection once more, taking in the slightly flushed cheeks and the nervous smile you force yourself to wear. It’s going to be fine. It’s just dinner. Nothing to worry about.

You grab your purse, give yourself one last look, and take a deep breath. The night ahead may be full of uncertainty, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

He’s clearly been well-raised, evident when he rolls up to your house and texts you that he’s arrived, with no rush whatsoever. It’s a shame he’s so mannered. Makes it harder to hate him.

The sleek black Lamborghini pulls up in front of your building, its engine purring like a lion waiting to sprint. The headlights flicker, and the engine cuts off as the door opens, revealing Jungkook. He steps out with his usual confidence, looking effortlessly put together in a bomber jacket, his casual yet polished style almost too perfect to ignore. For a second, it feels like a scene out of a movie; a world where people like him belong, and people like you… well, you barely know how to navigate it.

You walk down the steps, your heart rate quickening as he notices you. His eyes brighten, his lips curling into that same irresistible smile that you’ve become too familiar with through the screen of your phone. He steps closer, offering his hand, his gaze lingering on you like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“Wow,” he murmurs, his voice low but sincere. “You look... incredible.”

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks at the words, the compliment landing harder than you expected. You force yourself to maintain composure, but there’s no hiding the sudden wave of shyness that crashes over you. “Thank you,” you murmur, feeling small under the weight of his gaze. His eyes flicker down the length of your outfit, his approval written all over his face.

The car door opens, and Jungkook motions for you to get in. You hesitate just a moment, the overwhelming contrast between your world and his making you feel like you’re stepping into an entirely new dimension. But before you can second-guess yourself, you slide into the plush interior, the leather seats as soft as they look, the scent of expensive cologne and faint traces of him filling the air. He slides in next to you, the door shutting with a quiet thud.

Immediately, he glances over at you again, his gaze lingering, as if taking in every detail of your appearance. “I don’t know if you know this, but you’re seriously beautiful.” His words are easy, casual, but they hit you like a ton of bricks, and you’re not sure how to respond.

You look away, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. “Thanks, but you don’t have to keep saying that,” you mumble, trying to brush it off.

He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “I can’t help it,” he says, his voice playful. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

The car starts moving, the hum of the engine filling the silence between you as he drives. The city lights blur past the windows, but you barely notice them, your mind too focused on the man beside you, the constant warmth of his presence, and the way he keeps sneaking glances at you.

“So,” Jungkook says, his tone shifting a little, like he’s genuinely interested. “Tell me about your day. You said you work in corporate finance, right?”

You shift in your seat, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. You don’t typically talk about work unless you have to, but there’s something about the way he asks, so casually, so curious, that makes you want to open up. “Yeah, just… the usual stuff,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “Meetings, spreadsheets, presentations. It’s mostly numbers and data.”

Jungkook listens intently, but he can’t seem to stop glancing at you, his gaze flicking from the road to you every few seconds, as if he’s unable to tear his eyes away. You feel both flattered and awkward at the same time. It’s hard to ignore the way he watches you, as though you’re the most interesting thing in the world.

“You’re not a fan of the whole corporate scene, are you?” he says with a small smile, almost like he’s teasing you, but there’s something kind in his voice. “Seems like you’d rather be somewhere else.”

“I don’t mind it,” you reply softly, your eyes glued to the window now, hoping to hide the anxiety in your expression. “It’s just… it’s predictable. It’s easy. You know what to expect.”

Jungkook hums in thought, his gaze never fully leaving you. “And what about you? What’s the real you like? The one behind all the spreadsheets and numbers?” He asks, his voice dropping lower, like he’s waiting for you to give him a piece of yourself that no one else sees.

You hesitate, caught off guard by the question. It’s not that you don’t want to answer, but something about him makes it feel different—more intimate. You glance at him, catching his eyes for a moment before quickly looking away. “I guess I’m just... quiet. I like being on my own.”

“I can see that,” he says softly, glancing at you for another split second before focusing back on the road. “But you’re not so shy, are you? I feel like there’s more to you than you’re letting on.”

Your breath catches slightly at the challenge in his voice, and you glance over at him, caught off guard by how easily he reads you. You’re not used to this, not used to someone peeling back your layers without asking for permission. It feels strange and oddly comforting, but you push it aside, trying to hide your nervousness.

You laugh softly, trying to downplay it. “I’m just... not great at this. Talking. In person.” Your voice trails off, and you quickly glance out the window, hoping the coolness of the outside air will help you regain your composure. “I’m better with emails. Or texts.”

Jungkook’s smile is effortless, that teasing glint in his eyes never leaving as he glances at you again. “I don’t know, I think you’re doing just fine so far. It’s cute, actually. You’re like... one of those quiet but interesting types.” His tone is light, teasing, but there’s something deeper in the way he looks at you. It makes your heart race, and you suddenly feel the weight of his gaze, warm and persistent.

“I’m not interesting,” you mutter, a slight shrug escaping your shoulders. “Just quiet and boring, really.”

He chuckles, and you can’t help but feel that little flutter in your chest as the sound fills the space between you. “Boring? I don’t think so. You might surprise yourself.”

You shake your head, turning back to the window, your mind buzzing with his words. “You think? I don’t know, I kinda like the boring side of me,” you say softly, not looking at him but hoping he hears the hint in your voice.

He doesn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, there’s only the hum of the engine, the city lights flickering past in a blur. But then, his voice breaks the silence again, softer this time. “I think you’d be surprised.”

You glance back at him, catching that hint of something deeper in his expression—a mix of curiosity and understanding that makes you feel like he sees right through your walls. It’s unsettling and comforting all at once.

Before you can say anything else, the car slows to a stop, pulling up in front of a restaurant that takes your breath away. It’s one of those places you’ve heard about but never thought you’d actually step foot in—a sleek, modern building with huge glass windows that gleam under the city lights. The sign outside is simple, elegant, just the name of the restaurant in delicate gold lettering: Le Jardin.

The valet opens your door before you can even process it, and Jungkook steps out, offering his hand to help you out of the car. You take it, your fingers brushing his for a moment, and you can feel the spark of electricity between you. He flashes you that signature grin, his eyes never leaving yours. Really, you’re about to melt into the asphalt and become one with the concrete. “This place doesn’t mess around,” he says, a playful note in his voice. “Hope you’re ready.”

You look up at the restaurant, the smooth, minimalist design contrasting against the sprawling city skyline behind it. The entrance is framed by soft lighting, the large doors welcoming you into an atmosphere that feels both exclusive and comfortable at the same time. There’s a buzz of excitement coming from inside—the soft hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and a faint trace of delicious aromas drifting out to meet you.

“Wow,” you whisper, caught off guard by how beautiful it all is. “This is... really nice.”

Jungkook smiles, stepping a little closer as he opens the door for you. “I thought you deserved something a little special. Don’t worry, the food’s good too,” he adds, his tone light but warm.

As you step inside, you’re greeted by the soft sound of a live jazz band in the corner, their music floating through the air like a melody meant only for tonight. The decor is understated yet luxurious—dark wood paneling, golden accents, and soft lighting that makes everything feel intimate and quiet. The hostess leads you to a private table by the window, where the view of the city sprawls out in front of you, the lights below twinkling like stars.

Jungkook pulls out your chair for you, and you sit down, feeling a little lost in the grandeur of it all. You glance at him, and he’s already looking at you, that same easy smile on his lips.

“I figured you’d need a place to relax,” he says, his voice a little quieter now, the teasing tone replaced by something softer. “Just you, me, and a good meal. No pressure.”

You can’t help but smile, a little shy but grateful for the unexpected ease that seems to settle around you both.

The restaurant hums softly around you, the gentle clinking of glasses and low murmur of conversations filling the space, but somehow, it feels like you and Jungkook exist in a quiet pocket of your own.

The candlelight flickers between you, casting soft shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, the dark glint in his eyes that never seems to waver. He looks comfortable here, like he belongs anywhere he goes, his presence effortless and magnetic.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbow on the table, his chin balanced on his hand. “Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”

You pause, caught off guard. “No one?”

He smirks. “Fine, maybe not no one, but something that most people wouldn’t guess about you.”

You hesitate, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you glance down at your silverware. “I don’t know… I’m not exactly full of surprises.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he counters easily. “Come on. Something small. Like… do you have a weird talent? A guilty pleasure? Do you secretly love something embarrassing?”

You huff a small laugh, playing with the stem of your wine glass that is being filled with white wine by a waiter who avoids all eye contact. “I mean… I guess I really like puzzles?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like jigsaw puzzles?”

You nod, a little sheepish. “Yeah. I find them relaxing.”

A grin tugs at his lips. “So while other people unwind with a drink, you sit in a quiet room putting little pieces of a puzzle together?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not that weird.”

He chuckles, eyes dancing with amusement. “I didn’t say it was weird. I just… wasn’t expecting it.”

You tilt your head. “What were you expecting?”

Jungkook leans back slightly, tapping his fingers against his glass. “I don’t know. Something more… high maintenance.”

You blink. “High maintenance?”

He shrugs, smirking. “You work in corporate finance, you always look put together, and you don’t exactly let people in easily. I figured maybe your version of unwinding would be something a little more... extravagant.”

You scoff. “Like what? Spa weekends? Shopping sprees?”

Jungkook shrugs again, playful. “Maybe. Or maybe something ridiculously expensive. Like, I don’t know… collecting rare wines?”

You shake your head with a laugh. “I think I’m way less interesting than you think I am.”

“Disagree,” he says smoothly, watching you intently. “I think you just don’t realize how intriguing you are.”

You feel the heat creep up your neck, caught between embarrassment and the sickening effect his words have on you. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not,” he murmurs, still studying you like he’s trying to figure you out. “You’re quiet, but it’s not because you don’t have things to say. You just choose when to say them.”

You swallow, suddenly feeling exposed, like he’s seeing right through you. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

He shakes his head. “No. I like it.”

Your breath hitches slightly, and you glance away, needing a moment to collect yourself. “Your turn,” you say quickly, shifting the attention back to him. “Tell me something most people wouldn’t guess about you.”

Jungkook hums, considering. “Most people think I love being around crowds. That I thrive on attention.”

You glance at him. “And you don’t?”

He exhales, swirling his drink slightly. “I mean, I don’t hate it. But I like being alone more than people think.”

That surprises you. “Really?”

He nods. “When you’re always surrounded by people, you start to crave silence. After races, I go to the afterparty, make my appearances. But then I go home, sit on my couch, and watch movies.” He smirks. “Or maybe I’d do a puzzle, if I had any.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Jungkook leans forward again, resting his arms on the table. “What about you? Do you like being alone?”

You hesitate, then nod. “I do. I’ve always been that way. I think I just… feel more at ease when I don’t have to think about how I come across to people.”

Jungkook studies you for a long moment, then tilts his head. “So why’d you agree to dinner with me?”

You freeze slightly, caught in the directness of his question.

He smirks. “I mean, if you like being alone so much, what made you finally say yes?”

You glance down at your full wine glass, biting your lip. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I guess I was curious.”

Jungkook grins. “Curious about me?”

You exhale, shaking your head. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

He chuckles, watching you for a moment before his voice drops just a little. “I’m glad you did.”

You meet his gaze, and for a second, the air between you feels charged, heavy with something unsaid.

You clear your throat, taking a sip of wine, letting the cool liquid slide down your burning throat. “I’m still trying to figure you out, though.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “And?”

“You’re not what I expected,” you admit softly, stirring your wine glass idly between your fingers.

Jungkook leans forward slightly, tilting his head. “What did you expect?”

You hesitate, your shyness creeping back in. “I don’t know,” you murmur. “Someone more… I guess I assumed you’d be a little arrogant, maybe a little full of yourself.”

His lips curve into a lazy smile. “And I’m not?”

You bite your lip, suppressing a small laugh. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Jungkook chuckles, resting his forearm on the table as he watches you. “You know, most people don’t say things like that to me.”

You shrug, swirling the wine in your glass. “Most people probably don’t think you’d care what they really think.”

He studies you for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “And what about you?”

You glance up at him. “What about me?”

He leans in just slightly, his voice quieter now, as if drawing you into something more private, more profound. “Do you think I care what you think?”

Your heart stumbles over itself, caught in the weight of his gaze. He’s been watching you all night, but this feels different—like he’s really trying to pull something from you, something you’re not used to sharing.

You break eye contact, reaching for your wine, taking a slow sip to steady yourself. The warmth of the alcohol buzzes through you, loosening your nerves, making you feel a little braver than before.

You exhale, setting the glass down. “I think…” You pause, then glance at him, suddenly emboldened. “I think I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “At a restaraunt?”

“With me.”

His smile is immediate, slow and knowing. “Ah.”

You narrow your eyes slightly at his expression. “What?”

He smirks, swirling his own drink. “You’ve been thinking about that a lot, huh?”

Your face warms instantly. “I—”

“It’s okay.” He leans back against his chair, watching you with that same playful glint in his eyes. “I like that you’re curious.”

You huff, slightly embarrassed but pushing forward. “I just don’t get it,” you admit, feeling the wine soften your usual hesitations. “You could be having dinner with anyone. You do have dinner with everyone.”

His expression flickers, but he doesn’t seem surprised by the comment. “Ah,” he hums, taking a sip of his drink. “So you’ve been researching.”

You freeze.

Jungkook grins, tilting his head. “Did a little deep dive on me, huh?”

You immediately shake your head, your face burning. “No! I mean—” You falter, knowing full well you’ve skimmed far too many articles in the past twenty-four hours. “I just—my coworker Jisoo showed me some stuff, and then I might have—”

“Scrolled through Twitter?” he finishes for you, his smirk widening.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “I knew you were going to tease me for this.”

Jungkook laughs, rich and warm. “I mean, I was wondering if you saw all that. I’d be naive not to.” He pauses, studying you. “And? Did you like what you read?”

You lower your hands slowly, glaring at him. “I think ‘like’ is the wrong word.”

His lips twitch. “Fair.”

You hesitate for a moment, then take another sip of wine, gathering the courage to ask the real question that’s been gnawing at you. “Is it true?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Which part?”

“The models. The celebrities. All of it.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he studies you for a moment, fingers lightly tracing the rim of his glass. His expression softens, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter than before.

“I’ve gone out with people,” he admits, his gaze steady on yours. “But I think people like to assume more than what’s real.”

You frown slightly. “So it’s all fake?”

“Not all of it.” He shrugs. “But it’s easy for people to turn a casual dinner into a ‘secret romance.’ People like stories. They like the fantasy of it all.”

You absorb his words, letting them settle.

“And what about this?” you ask, gesturing between the two of you. “Is this just another story?”

Jungkook smiles, but this time, it’s softer, more thoughtful. “I don’t know yet,” he says honestly. “But I knew I wanted to see you again.”

You feel your breath hitch slightly at his words, at the way he says them so easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like you being here, across from him, means something.

You shake your head slightly, exhaling. “So how did you even get my name?”

He grins, leaning forward slightly, his voice playful again. “You really want to know?”

“Yes?”

His grin widens. “I have my ways.”

You groan. “That’s not an answer.”

He chuckles. “Let’s just say I’m good at finding what I want.”

You swallow hard at that, looking away, feeling like the room is suddenly a little warmer.

Jungkook watches you, his gaze lingering, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he picks up his glass, tilts it slightly toward you. “Now, tell me. Did any of your research make you want to cancel dinner with me?”

You hesitate, your fingers playing with the stem of your glass.

“…I thought about it,” you admit.

Jungkook smirks. “And yet, you came. Here you are.”

Your lips press together as you shake your head, exhaling a quiet laugh. “Yeah,” you say, glancing up at him. “Here I am.”

His smile deepens, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you’ve fallen into something you might not be able to climb out of. Your stomach flips at the way he looks at you, like he’s letting you in on something no one else gets to see.

And there is a real reason you’re like this, why you operate the way you do. Why you keep your distance, why you hesitate to let anyone in. You’ve only ever been with one person before—your first everything. First love, first kiss, first heartbreak. The kind of first that marks you in ways you can’t quite explain, leaves an imprint on you no matter how much time passes. He was steady, familiar, someone who made sense in the quiet, predictable life you’d built for yourself. And maybe that’s why it hurt when it ended—because you had given so much of yourself to something that didn’t last.

You tell yourself it’s better this way, to keep your heart guarded, to never let anyone close enough to leave a mark. And that’s exactly why this—whatever this is—with Jungkook, can’t happen. You know that. But somehow, sitting across from him, feeling the way his eyes linger on you, the way he makes you feel seen in a way you haven’t in so long—it’s hard to remind yourself of all the reasons why you should walk away.

But you will.

You have to.

The night begins to wind down, the warmth of the meal settling in your stomach, the haze of wine softening the usual sharp edges of your thoughts. Jungkook waves over the waiter before you can even think about reaching for your purse, handing over his black card with an ease that reminds you just how different your worlds are.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur, fiddling with the napkin in your lap.

He smirks. “I did actually. It’s part of my plan.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Your plan?”

Jungkook leans forward slightly, his voice dipping lower. “Yeah. Impress you just enough to get you to agree to see me again.”

Your breath halts slightly, pausing on an inhale, but before you can react, the waiter returns with his receipt, and just like that, dinner is over.

As you both stand, your heart does a slow tumble in your chest, reality seeping back in now that the night is drawing to a close. This was supposed to be a simple dinner—just one meal, one conversation. But as you follow Jungkook toward the entrance, something inside you tightens. Maybe it’s because you know this isn’t your world, that stepping into it, even just for one evening, is already dangerous enough.

And then you see them.

Flashes of light. Cameras. Figures moving just beyond the glass doors. Paparazzi.

Your stomach drops.

Jungkook notices immediately, his hand hovering slightly near your back as you freeze in place. “Hey,” he says softly, barely above a whisper. “You okay?”

You can’t move, can’t breathe. You knew who he was, knew what being near someone like him meant, but seeing it like this—seeing people waiting just to capture you walking out of a restaurant with him—it makes something tighten in your chest.

“I—” Your voice comes out too soft, unsteady. Your fingers curl slightly at your sides.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. He catches onto your panic immediately.

“Come on.” His voice is calm, steady. He reaches for your wrist, his touch light but firm, guiding you before you can overthink it. “We’ll go out the back.”

You don’t argue, don’t even process what’s happening until you’re suddenly being pulled through the dimly lit kitchen, past startled chefs and waiters who barely give Jungkook a second glance—like they’re used to this, like it’s just another night.

Your feet move quickly to keep up, your heart hammering in your chest. The scent of garlic and seared meat lingers in the air, the faint clatter of pans somewhere behind you. Jungkook maneuvers through the space like he’s done this a hundred times before, like avoiding cameras is just another part of his routine.

Then—he pauses, and you nearly bump into his broad shoulders.

The alley exit is just ahead, but the hallway narrows, and as another kitchen staff member passes by with a heavy tray, Jungkook instinctively moves closer to you.

Too close.

Your back brushes against the cold steel countertop behind you, and suddenly, there’s barely any space left between you. His hand is still wrapped loosely around your wrist, his body angled slightly toward yours.

You can feel him. The warmth radiating off his skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark eyes flicker down to yours.

You’re suddenly hyperaware of everything—the weight of his palm, the way his fingers flex slightly, the faint scent of cologne wrapping around you like a trap you don’t know how to escape from.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything at first. Just looks at you, watches the way your breathing has shifted, the way your lips part slightly like you’re about to say something but can’t seem to find the words.

“You’re fidgeting,” he finally murmurs, his voice low, almost amused.

You swallow hard, not trusting yourself to respond.

His gaze drops for just a second—to the way your fingers curl against the counter behind you, to the way your chest rises with each breath. And then—slowly—his eyes meet yours again. “You nervous?”

Your face burns. “No.”

Jungkook smiles, just slightly, like he doesn’t believe you at all. Honestly, you don’t even believe yourself. He must be delusional to think you wouldn’t be antsy in a ten-mile radius of him.

You clear your throat, suddenly desperate to move, to create distance, but your body betrays you, frozen in place. He hasn’t let go of your wrist yet, but his touch is light now, lingering rather than leading.

“You okay?” His voice is softer now, lacking the teasing edge from before.

You exhale shakily, finally managing to break the tension by stepping to the side, out of his hold. “Yeah,” you murmur, not sounding convincing at all. “Just… not used to this.”

Jungkook nods, like he understands. “You will be.”

You blink up at him, startled by his response. “What makes you so sure?”

He tilts his head, smirking. “Because I’m not planning on this being the last time I take you to dinner.”

Your stomach flips violently.

Before you can respond, he pushes open the exit door, leading you out into the cool night air, away from the flashing cameras. You savor the below freezing temperature, shocking you out of how down bad you are, like someone just splashed cold water on you and told you to get it together.

But even as you step outside, even as you breathe in the crisp air and try to collect yourself, you know one thing for certain.

You don’t know what you’re getting into—Jeon Jungkook is dangerous.

And not just because of the cameras. But because of the fact that your heart is racing and all he’s doing is holding your wrist.

The night air is crisp as Jungkook leads you toward the valet attendant waiting for you two with his sleek car parked by the curb. He pulls some cash out of his wallet, handing it to him as the valet stands by the door. Ever the gentlemen, Jungkook pulls the car door open for you. There’s something so effortless about the way he moves, the way he guides you inside with the smallest touch at the small of your back. It should be intimidating—the way he commands space, the way he knows he has a presence. But it isn’t.

It’s something else.

Something that makes your stomach twist, something that makes your thoughts run faster than you can keep up with.

You slide into the car, the leather seats cool beneath you, the city lights reflecting off the tinted windows. Jungkook settles in beside you, his presence filling the space between you, even though he keeps a respectable distance. The car door shuts, and he pulls away from the restaurant, the hum of the engine smooth against the quiet tension that lingers in the air.

Jungkook shifts slightly, resting his arm against the console, other hand extended towards the wheel. He’s glancing at you again, the way he always does—with curiosity, with something unreadable flickering behind his dark eyes.

“So,” he says, his voice low, intimate in the enclosed space. “When do I get to see you again?”

The question is easy, natural, as if it’s already decided. As if this—whatever the flying fuck this is—is already something that’s meant to continue.

You swallow, fingers curling slightly against your lap.

Now, see, this is the part you were afraid of.

Because no matter what he says, no matter how genuine he sounds, you know he’s good at this. You’ve read the articles, seen the photos. You know the patterns. And even if he doesn’t mean to, even if he thinks this is something different—he is still who he is.

He is Jeon Jungkook.

And you… you are just you.

Your pulse flutters uneasily. “Jungkook…”

He tilts his head, waiting.

You exhale softly, forcing yourself to look over at him. “I’m not really… ready to be with anyone right now.”

The words feel strange as they leave your lips, because they’re not entirely true. You could be with someone. You could let yourself get close. But it isn’t anyone you’re afraid of. It’s him.

For the first time tonight, you see something flicker in his expression, something almost vulnerable before it’s quickly masked with understanding. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just watches you, his fingers now drumming lightly against his knee, like he’s considering his next words carefully.

And then, instead of pushing, instead of pressing for more, he does something you don’t expect.

He smiles. Not in a teasing way, not cocky. Just soft.

“That’s okay,” he says, nodding slightly. “I get it.”

You blink. “You do?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I mean, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bummed, but…” He pauses, exhaling. “I like hanging out with you. Even if it’s just as friends.”

Friends.

You’re not sure why the word makes something tighten in your chest.

“I don’t know if I’d be a very exciting friend,” you admit, trying to lighten the moment.

Jungkook chuckles, his lip piercing catching the light as he shifts. “I think that’s what I like about you.”

Your breath hitches slightly. “What?”

“You’re normal,” he says, shrugging. “You don’t try too hard. You don’t treat me like I’m some celebrity or some… I don’t know, fantasy. You just let me be a guy in a grocery store picking out snacks.”

You look down, biting the inside of your cheek. “Well, technically, I treated you like someone who doesn’t know how to grocery shop.”

Jungkook laughs, his head tilting back slightly. “Even better.”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “So… you really want to be friends?”

He nods. “Yeah. I could use more normal friends.”

You hesitate, but then finally exhale. “Okay. Friends.”

As he pulls up to a red light, Jungkook grins, turning to you, pinky finger outstretched. “Promise?”

You stare at him, incredulous. “Are you seriously asking for a pinky promise right now?”

He smirks. “I take my friendships very seriously.”

You roll your eyes but lift your pinky anyway, linking it with his. His fingers are warm against yours, his touch lingering even as he slowly pulls away.

For a moment, the air between you feels lighter. Easier. But before you can get too comfortable—he speaks again.

“So… as friends,” he drawls, tilting his head. “I can still see you, right?”

You hesitate, but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes it impossible to say no.

“…Yeah,” you murmur. “That’s fine.”

Jungkook grins, satisfied. “Good.”

And you really have no one to blame but yourself when you make the mistake of looking at his lips.

The way he licks them absentmindedly, the way his tongue glides across the silver ring before catching it between his teeth, playing with the metal like it’s a habit he doesn’t even realize he has.

It’s unfair, really.

Your throat goes dry, and you quickly look away, hoping he didn’t catch it.

But of course, he did. Damn it, Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook hums. “Something wrong?”

You shake your head too quickly. “Nope.”

He smirks but doesn’t push. Instead, he leans back against the drivers seat, stretching his legs slightly before glancing back at the road. “We’re almost at your place.”

You nod, trying to focus on anything other than the warmth still lingering in your pinky from earlier.

The car slows as he pulls up to your apartment. Jungkook watches as you gather your things, but before you can reach for the door handle, he speaks again. You should invest in duct tape for his mouth if he’s going to make your heart palpitate everytime he opens it.

“Hey.”

You turn, meeting his gaze.

“This was fun,” he says, voice softer now. “I’m glad you agreed.”

Something about the way he says it makes your chest ache.

You swallow. “Yeah. Me too.”

You hesitate, then add, “Thanks for dinner.”

Jungkook grins. “Anytime, friend.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips.

With that, you step out of the car, closing the door behind you. As the car pulls away, disappearing into the night, you let out a slow breath.

Friends.

You can do that.

You have to.

Even if, deep down, you already know: nothing about Jeon Jungkook feels like something you can keep at arm’s length.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[agentstarkid]

ART OF THE GAME ✦ LN4

✦ DEBRIEF: Lando walked in with a plan—cool, confident, effortless. Then he saw her, and just like that, his plan didn’t stand a chance.

✦ TRACK LIMITS: AU; art school boyfriend!lando; female!reader; attempt at flirting; she's so cool and bro is struggling.

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 3.4K words.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: happy first race of the season! 🤪 i've seen a couple of posts with thoughts on lando being so art school bf coded and i've had brain rot ever since so i wrote this (target audience: me) 🫡

< back to general masterlist

Lando had every intention of playing it cool. He'd walked into the little art supply shop with a practiced ease, hands shoved into the pockets of his paint-stained jeans, eyes scanning the shelves with mock interest. He didn’t actually need anything—not today, at least—but he needed an excuse. And what better excuse than pretending to browse resin pigments when the girl he had been utterly, stupidly infatuated with for months was standing behind the counter?

He had been standing in front of the resin pigment shelf for a solid five minutes, pretending to debate between two shades of blue. In reality, his brain had short-circuited the second he walked in and saw her sitting behind the counter, twirling a pencil between her fingers, completely absorbed in whatever she was sketching.

He wasn’t even sure why he was so nervous. It wasn’t like they were strangers—they shared a few classes, exchanged the occasional nod in the hallway, even worked on a group project together once. But she was just… cool. The kind of effortless cool that made Lando feel like a dumbass every time he tried to talk to her. And he wanted to talk to her. Badly.

Except every time he got the chance, he chickened out. Whether it was after class, in the library, or just passing by in the hallway, he’d always come up with some reason to keep moving before the conversation could go beyond a casual “hey.” He’d bail with some half-baked excuse or pretend he was suddenly in a rush, kicking himself afterward for being such a coward. 

It wasn’t that she was intimidating—not in the usual way, at least. It was just that she had this way about her, like she saw right through him, and he wasn’t sure he’d survive whatever came after that. But she was always nice, never calling him out on his awkwardness, never making him feel like an idiot for it. Sometimes, he even caught a hint of amusement in her eyes, like she was waiting to see if he’d ever stop running and actually work up the nerve to stay.

So, he decided today was the day.

Against his better judgment, he grabbed the closest thing he could find—a tiny jar of iridescent resin flakes that he definitely didn’t need—and walked up to the counter. She looked up as he placed it down, her gaze flickering over him before she scanned the jar.

“Fancy,” she mused. “Didn’t know you worked with resin.”

“Oh—yeah.” He nodded quickly, shifting on his feet. “Started with, um, custom vinyl stickers when I was younger, but, y’know… expanded a bit. Epoxy stuff now.”

The words tumbled out in a rushed, jumbled mess, and he immediately regretted how breathless he sounded. He wasn’t even sure why he was rambling—okay, maybe he did. She was looking at him, actually interested, and it threw him off completely. His brain scrambled to catch up, but all it did was make him more nervous, his fingers burying deeper in his pockets as he tried to appear casual.

She hummed in acknowledgment, turning the jar in her hands. “Do you wear a mask when you work with it?”

Lando scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling like a kid getting scolded. “Sometimes.”

Her brows lifted. “Sometimes?”

“…Rarely.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “You’re going to kill your lungs, Norris.”

He chuckled, shifting on his feet. “That’s what my mum says.”

“She’s a smart woman.”

Silence settled between them, and Lando’s mind raced for something—anything—to keep the conversation going. But the longer she looked at him, the harder it became to think straight. His mouth opened before his brain could catch up.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before,” he tried.

She smirked. “That’s funny because I’ve definitely seen you here before.”

Lando’s ears burned. “Right. Uh. Yeah.” He coughed. “Well… you come here often?”

She blinked. “Well, considering I work here, yes.”

Lando groaned, running a hand down his face. “That was awful. Ignore that. Please.”

She tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. And she was laughing now, and God, he really liked the sound of it. “That’s your go-to line? Really?”

He sighed dramatically, but the corner of his lips twitched upward. “In my defense, you make me nervous.”

Her laughter softened, and she tilted her head, eyes flickering with something he couldn’t quite place. “I make you nervous?”

Lando swallowed. “A little.”

Her lips curled slightly, as if she was debating whether or not to tease him further. “Well, I can’t say I expected that.”

“Yeah, me neither,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she reached for the jar of resin flakes he’d placed on the counter. Scanning the barcode, she shot him a knowing look. “You don’t even need this, do you?”

Lando hesitated. He could lie. He could play it off, insist that he totally needed more iridescent flakes for a project. But something about the way she was looking at him made his brain short-circuit again.

“…Not really.”

She grinned. “So you just came in here to flirt with me, then?”

Lando opened his mouth, then immediately shut it. The tips of his ears were definitely red now. He cleared his throat. “Uh—”

She let him suffer for a second before laughing softly. “Relax, Norris. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

His heart nearly stopped. He had to do something—say something—but all coherent thought had completely left his brain. So the first thing that came out was—

“Can you say that again?”

She raised a brow. “Were you not listening?”

“No, I was.” His lips curled into a smirk, confidence flickering back for a second. “I just like hearing your voice.”

For the first time since he walked in, he managed to catch her off guard. Her expression softened—just a little—and she shook her head, laughing under her breath.

Maybe he wasn’t totally hopeless after all.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a soft smile on her lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still talking to me.”

She hummed, pretending to consider. “Maybe I just like watching you try so hard.”

Lando pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Wow. Brutal.”

Her laughter lingered between them, light and teasing, and he found himself gripping the edge of the counter just to keep himself grounded. He’d walked in here with the intention of playing it cool—maybe even charming her a little—but instead, he was standing there like a knob, pretty sure he was red in the face, his heart hammering like it had a mind of its own. And it was all because of her.

Yeah. He was in trouble.

He cleared his throat, trying to shake the dazed feeling her words left him with. “So, uh… how long have you been working here?”

“A while,” she said, leaning her elbows on the counter. “Just part-time between classes. It’s nice, though. Peaceful—except when guys come in and pretend to shop just to flirt with the cashier.”

Lando let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, ouch.”

“I’m just saying,” she smirked. “You might be a good businessman, but subtlety isn’t really your thing.”

“That’s debatable.”

She raised an eyebrow, nodding toward the tiny jar of resin flakes. Then, with a playful tilt of her head and the slightest scrunch of her nose—way too cute for his sanity—she teased, “Oh? Is it?” 

“…Fine. Maybe not,” he admitted with a dramatic sigh, glancing around like he’d just now realized how obvious he’d been. He rocked on his heels before flashing her a teasing grin. “How do you know I’m a businessman? Have you been paying attention to me?”

For the briefest second, her composure wavered—just a flicker of surprise before she tilted her head, effortlessly brushing it off. “Oh, I don’t know,” she mused, propping her chin on her hand. “Maybe the fact that everyone on campus has owned at least one of your stickers at some point.”

His brows lifted. “You too?”

She smirked. “Maybe.”

Lando grinned, tilting his head. “Which one?”

She tapped her fingers against the counter, feigning deep thought. “I had the little frog on a skateboard for a while.”

“No way.” His face lit up. “That was one of my best sellers!”

“Yeah, I could tell. I saw it on, like, half the laptops in the studio.” She shook her head. “It was honestly impressive. You had a whole empire running out of your dorm room.”

“What can I say?” Lando shrugged dramatically. “I see an opportunity, I take it.”

She laughed, and he swore his heart did a stupid little flip. God, he was down bad.

"Guess that explains why you’re so successful now," she mused. "Vinyl stickers to ‘Epoxy stuff’…" She mimicked his voice with an exaggerated impression, tilting her head dramatically. “Quite the business trajectory.”

Lando let out a sudden, stifled snort that turned into a breathy wheeze, shoulders shaking as he tried (and failed) to suppress it. A nervous giggle followed, his grin widening as he shook his head. "That was awful," he managed between chuckles.

"Accurate, though," she shot back, smirking.

He huffed, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, I’m on an upward trajectory.” He leaned onto the counter slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. “Next stop: world domination.”

She snorted. “I’ll make sure to invest in your company before the stock prices skyrocket.”

Lando grinned, drumming his fingers against the counter. “Smart move.”

The playful energy between them settled into a comfortable pause, but as the silence stretched, he felt the nerves creeping back in. He didn’t want the conversation to end—not yet—but his brain was scrambling for something, anything, to keep her talking.

Lando opened his mouth, searching for another witty remark to keep the conversation going, but his mind came up frustratingly blank. Instead, he let out a small breath, rocking back on his heels as he drummed his fingers against the counter.

She seemed to pick up on his hesitation, amusement still dancing in her eyes as she reached for the small jar of resin flakes and scanned it. The beep of the register filled the brief lull in conversation before she slid the jar back toward him.

“That’ll be five pounds,” she said, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips, still clearly entertained by their little back-and-forth.

Lando blinked, momentarily distracted by the curve of her smile before fumbling for his wallet. He was stalling, and he knew it, but he wasn’t ready to leave just yet. As he pulled out a crumpled bill and handed it over, he cleared his throat, trying to shake the nervous energy settling in his chest.

“So,” she said, placing the money in the till, “what are you actually working on right now? Or did you just come in here for the fun of it?”

He huffed a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, yeah—I do have a reason for being here. Other than, you know…” He gestured vaguely between them, hoping she’d catch the implication.

Her lips twitched. “Other than what?”

Lando groaned, his head dipping forward for a second before he sighed dramatically. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

She propped her chin in her hand, feigning innocence. “I have no idea what you mean.”

His grin softened as he shook his head. “Evil,” he muttered, before straightening up and running a hand through his curls. “Anyway, you know Max, right?”

“Fewtrell?” she asked. “The guy taking design as an elective class for some reason?”

Lando snorted. “Yeah, that one. He’s my best mate.” He tapped his fingers absentmindedly against the counter. “Well, his brother, Theo, owns a barber shop.”

Her brow lifted in curiosity.

“I designed the logo for it a few months back—clean, kinda old-school but modern, y’know?” He gestured vaguely, as if picturing it in the air. “And now he’s commissioned me for a piece to go up in the shop.”

Her interest visibly piqued. “What kind of piece?”

“That’s the thing,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still figuring it out. I want it to tie in with the whole aesthetic but also feel… dunno, unique? Thought resin could be a cool medium—give it some texture, maybe play with metallics, make it stand out a bit.”

She nodded, clearly intrigued. “That actually sounds really cool.”

Lando smiled, a little sheepish. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She leaned slightly on the counter, studying him.

Lando shrugged, but the compliment made his ears burn. “Still working out the details, though.”

She crossed her arms, amusement flickering in her eyes. “You really do have a knack for making money off anything, huh?”

He rocked back on his heels, smirking. “What can I say? Some people knit, some people bake—I accidentally become an entrepreneur.”

She huffed a small laugh. “Accidentally? You mean to tell me you didn’t strategically market those stickers so well that half the campus ended up with one?”

His grin widened. “Okay, maybe a little bit on purpose.”

“A little?” She arched a brow. “Lando, I’ve seen professors with your stickers on their laptops.”

That earned a genuine laugh from him, one of those wheezy chuckles that made his shoulders shake. “Alright, fine. Gotta fund my questionable spending habits somehow.” He scratched his cheek, suddenly looking a little sheepish.

She slid his change across the counter but didn’t let go just yet, tilting her head. “Hmm, isn’t your dad a CEO or something?”

Lando let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh—technically, yeah, but I’m trying to do my own thing.” He shifted his weight, suddenly very aware of the way she was watching him. “You know… prove I can actually survive without just riding the family name.”

Her lips twitched, but there was something warm in her expression, like she saw right through him. “I like that,” she mused. “I like guys who are independent. Handy, too.”

Lando’s brain stalled. He could feel his face heat up, the tips of his ears practically on fire. Did she just–?. “Oh—uh—yeah?”

She smirked, finally releasing his change into his palm. “Yeah.”

He cleared his throat, scrambling to recover. “Well, lucky for you, I’m, uh… very handy.”

Her smirk widened. “That so?”

He straightened up, forcing himself to meet her gaze with his best attempt at confidence. “Absolutely.” He tapped the tiny jar of resin flakes. “You’re looking at a man who owns a toolbox and everything.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “A real renaissance man.”

Lando grinned, rolling with it now. “Hey, I can even change a tire. Put up a shelf. Fix a leaky sink.” He paused for dramatic effect. “With only minimal supervision.”

She let out a soft laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Minimal, huh?”

“Gotta leave some room for improvement,” he quipped.

Her head tilted slightly, like she was considering him. “That’s fair.”

There was a brief pause—not awkward, just charged. He liked that. Liked that she wasn’t rushing to fill the silence, that she was still looking at him like she was actually interested in what he had to say.

Lando picked up the coins, turning one over between his fingers as he leaned on the counter again. He didn’t want to leave just yet, not when she was actually indulging him—teasing him, sure, but still talking to him. That was a win in his book.

“So,” she said, breaking the moment with an easy smile. “Are you planning on expanding this… accidental business empire of yours? Or are you stopping at barber shop commissions?”

He let out a breathy chuckle. “I mean, I’m open to offers. Know anyone in need of a custom epoxy masterpiece?”

She hummed, pretending to consider it. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I need a handcrafted resin sculpture.”

Lando grinned. “I’ll even give you the friends and family discount.”

“Oh? And what exactly qualifies me for that?”

He faltered for a second, the smugness slipping just a little. “Uh—well, you know, we… we share classes and stuff.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused by his sudden nervousness. “So, that makes us friends?”

Lando could feel his ears burning. “I mean—” He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing, would it?”

She smiled, small but noticeable. “No, I guess not.”

His heart did a ridiculous little flip. He needed to say something—anything—to keep the conversation going, but his brain was short-circuiting, caught up in the way she was looking at him.

Lando pocketed his change, rocking back on his heels as he glanced at her. She was still smiling, just a hint of amusement playing on her lips, and he couldn't help himself.

“You should smile like that more often,” he said, feeling bold for once. “Looks good on you.”

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, but she didn't shy away from the compliment. Instead, she rested her elbow on the counter, chin propped on her hand as she looked at him. “Careful, Norris. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

He felt his heart stutter, but he forced himself to keep cool. “And if I did?”

She smirked, tilting her head slightly. “Then I’d say… maybe I don’t mind.”

Lando blinked. He had expected another sharp remark, maybe a teasing laugh at his expense—but not that. Definitely not that.

She handed him his bag of supplies, fingers brushing his for just a second. “Try not to make a mess with your ‘epoxy stuff,’ yeah?”

Lando cleared his throat, gripping the bag like it might keep him from floating off the ground. He should leave now. Probably. But then—

“Actually,” he blurted before he could lose his nerve.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Actually…?”

He shifted his weight, suddenly hyperaware of how warm the shop felt. “You, uh—do you already have a partner for the semester project? For—” He gestured vaguely. “—our class?”

Her lips twitched. “The one worth half our grade?”

“That’d be the one.”

She studied him for a moment, eyes flicking over his face like she was deciding whether or not to make him squirm. “Why?”

Lando scratched the back of his neck, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “Because if you don’t… maybe we could team up?”

Her expression didn’t give much away, but he swore he saw the hint of a smirk. “You want to be my partner?”

“Well,” he said, attempting nonchalance, “you did say you like guys who are independent and handy.” He flashed a quick grin, hoping to mask the way his stomach twisted with anticipation. “And I happen to be both.”

She hummed, pretending to consider it. “That’s true.”

Lando leaned forward slightly. “So?”

She pretended to think, tapping her fingers against the counter. “Hmm. I don’t know… I hear you’re a bit of a slacker.”

“Oi, that’s slander.”

She smirked. “Is it?”

Lando placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, I take my work very seriously.”

She hummed, unconvinced. “We’ll see about that.”

His grin widened. “So that’s a yes?”

She tilted her head. “It’s not a no.”

Lando bit back a laugh, watching her with a spark of mischief. “Guess I’ll just have to prove myself then.” He took a step back toward the door before adding, “Better come prepared to be impressed.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Guess I’ll see you in class, then,” he said, shifting his weight.

She smirked, eyes dancing with something teasing. “Looking forward to it.”

He nodded, trying not to grin too hard as he took a few slow steps backward toward the door, unwilling to look away just yet—like if he lingered a second longer, he could make the moment last.

“See you around, businessman.”

Lando stared at her for a second, then nodded, a little dazed. “Yeah. See you around.”

He had just pushed the door open, feeling a little stupid and a lot smitten, when her voice stopped him just before he reached the door.

“Oh, and Lando?”

He gripped the edge of the doorframe like it might keep him from floating away. “Yeah?”

She leaned against the counter, eyes scanning him like she was committing something to memory, then her lips curled into a knowing smile. “Don’t forget your mask next time. I’d hate for you to be out of commission before the project even starts.”

Lando felt his grin stretch wider, heart thudding in his chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

And with that, he walked out—five pounds poorer, but feeling like he’d just walked away with something far more valuable.

< back to general masterlist

[scriptedinkbyxim]

Past the Finish Line: Beyond the Checkered Flag [MV1]

As the final race of the 2024 season approaches, [Y/N] strives to reclaim her peace amidst chaos, love confessions and bittersweet encounters. Closure comes with the roar of engines and the glow of the podium — but just when the dust seems to settle, new– and old sparks ignite, all of them promising a bright future yet unwritten.

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Sainz! Female Reader, Sainz! Female Reader x Brother! Carlos Sainz, a little Charles Leclerc x Sainz! Female Reader and a little Lando Norris x Sainz! Female Reader.

Warnings: Charlos divorce. Panic Attack. Carlos last race with Ferrari. Open Ending. Is Kelly Piquet a Warning?

A/N: Hi, Xim here. Here is the last part of "Past the Finish Line" short series, hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writting it. English is not my first language so apologies in advance for any mistake. Are Max and (Y/N) Done for Good? What Happend with Charles? Lando enters the picture as well?

Part 1. | Part 2. | Lando's Ending | Charles' Ending

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

The weeks following Monza passed in relative quiet. (Y/N) retreated into her writing, pouring her emotions into her work. She disconnected from social media, avoiding the curated perfection of others' lives, especially the constant updates about Max and Kelly.

Her family had returned to Madrid after the Italian race, but she went back to Mallorca, finding solace in the island's tranquil beauty. The warm breeze carried the scent of salt and wildflowers, and the gentle rhythm of the waves became a balm for her restless soul.

One morning, as she sat on the terrace overlooking the sparkling sea, her visiting mother, Mercedes, joined her with two cups of tea.

"You've been quiet," her mother observed gently, placing one cup in front of her.

(Y/N) wrapped her hands around the warm mug, the steam curling into the air. "Just... thinking."

Mercedes gave her a knowing look. "About him?"

She hesitated before nodding. "I thought I was getting better, but then Monza happened. Seeing him, hearing his voice... it just brought everything back."

Her mother's hand covered hers. "Healing isn't a straight line, hija. But you're stronger than you think."

(Y/N)'s throat tightened. "Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake. Maybe I should've fought harder."

Mercedes's eyes softened. "You fought enough mi amor. Love shouldn't be a battlefield where you have to prove your worth."

The truth of her mother's words settled heavily on her chest.

Spending peaceful days in Mallorca allowed life to beckon her back. Her agent had been persistent, urging her to attend an upcoming literary event in New York. It was time, (Y/N) decided, to re-engage with the world.

She packed her bags, leaving the island with a sense of quiet determination. Max might have moved on, but so could she.

As the plane soared over the Mediterranean, she watched the clouds drift by, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

φ

A few months after her return to Madrid, (Y/N)'s phone buzzed with an unexpected call from her father.

"Hola, papá," she greeted warmly.

"Cariño," his voice was gentle but firm. "We need you in Abu Dhabi for Carlos's final race with Ferrari. The whole family will be there."

Her stomach twisted. The paddock again. The last place she wanted to be.

"I don't think I can..." she murmured grimmley.

"Your brother deserves your support," her father reminded her. "You’re strong enough for this, hija. And we'll all be there with you."

Her heart warred with her mind, but in the end, love for her brother won out. "Okay. I'll be there."

The decision was made, but anxiety clawed at her chest. The idea of facing Max again, seeing him with Kelly, was almost unbearable.

Still, she owed it to Carlos.

φ

Abu Dhabi was a city shimmering with golden light and restless energy. The final race of the 2024 Formula 1 season had drawn an electric crowd, eager to witness the spectacle unfold. This was meant to be a celebration—Carlos’ last race with Ferrari. She was there for him, for the team, for everything but herself. The journey to this place felt less like a celebration and more like a reckoning. 

She arrived early, blending into the sea of red-clad Ferrari fans who hoped for one last victory for Carlos in the iconic scarlet car. The weight of nostalgia and pride hung thick in the air. (Y/N) tried to focus on that, on the fact that she was here for her brother, not for unresolved heartache or awkward confrontations.

The paddock was a blur of activity as mechanics prepped cars and journalists buzzed around the drivers like bees to honey. She kept her head down, walking alongside her family until a sudden burst of laughter caught her attention.

She spotted a little girl running off in the paddock, too quick for her mother to catch. Instinctively, she reached out, stopping her in her tracks before she could get lost in the crowd. "Where do you think you’re going, pequeñita?" she teased, crouching to her level and catching the kid by the hand.

The girl looked up at her with wide eyes, momentarily surprised before breaking into a shy smile. "There is Maxie," she murmured, pointing toward the Red-Bull garage.

(Y/N)’s breath hitched. Kelly Piquet stood just a few steps away, radiating elegance. Her long dark hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, this kid must be Penelope, the little girl twirled gleefully in a dress that sparkled under the sun.

Kelly hurried over, her expression grateful. "Thank you so much," she said breathlessly. "She’s always running off." 

Now that Kelly was closer she could see it clearly—the subtle swell of her stomach, the unmistakable glow.

(Y/N) knelt down to Penelope’s level, smoothing the girl's dress. "You have to stay close to your mamá, okay?"

Penelope nodded solemnly before scurrying back to Kelly’s side.

Kelly's smile faltered for a brief second, replaced by an awkward but sincere expression. "It’s good to meet you, (Y/N)." She had seen countless pictures of Max ex girlfriend on his socials.

There was no malice in her tone, only genuine warmth. (Y/N)´s chest tightened, but there was no hatred, no resentment. Kelly had done nothing wrong. If anything, she had been the one Max had chosen

She forced a smile. "Congratulations," she said, gesturing subtly to Kelly’s visibly pregnant belly. "I hope everything goes well."

Kelly's hand rested protectively on her bump. "Thank you. That means a lot."

There was a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken complexities. Kelly opened her mouth as if to say something more but seemed to think better of it.

Moving on was supposed to be the goal. (Y/N) just hadn’t expected how much it would hurt. She excused herself quickly with a subtle nod as she felt the edges of her anxiety creeping in.

φ

The paddock hummed with electric energy as preparations for the final race intensified. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cling to the humid desert air. (Y/N) stood on the fringes of the chaos, stumbling toward the back of a garage, away from the bustling crowds, her breath shallow and erratic. Her heart pounded against her ribs, a relentless drumbeat fueled by the weight of what she'd seen—Kelly's pregnant silhouette and Penelope's innocent laughter still echoing in her mind.

Her vision blurred, the sounds around her distorting as panic clawed at her throat.

She stumbled backward, Her chest heaved as she gripped the railing behind her, desperately fighting to ground herself. Her breaths came in sharp gasps, shallow and frantic.

"Hey."

The familiar British accent almost pulled her from the brink. Lando Norris stood a few feet away, concern etched across his face.

"You need to breathe, Darling." The voice was calm but insistent, cutting through the fog threatening to consume her.

He was now next to her, his blue eyes steady as they locked onto hers. He reached for her hand, not touching her yet but holding it within reach, offering reassurance without pressure.

"Look at me," he instructed gently. "We're going to do this together, okay?"

She gave a faint nod, her chest still tight.

"Tell me five things you can see right now," he urged.

(Y/N) blinked, trying to focus. "The... railing. The tires. Your papaya shoes. The garage entrance. And... the sky."

"Good," he praised softly. "Four things you can feel."

"My heart racing," she admitted shakily. "The metal of the railing... the heat... and your hand close to mine."

His lips quirked into a soft smile. "Three things you can hear."

"The engines. People talking. Your voice."

"Two things you can smell."

"Gasoline and... something clean, maybe soap?"

"That's me," he teased lightly. "One thing you can taste?"

"My own panic," she admitted bitterly, but a hint of humor broke through.

"How about hope?" he suggested, squeezing her hand lightly. "That tastes better."

A reluctant laugh escaped her, easing some of the tension coiled in her chest. Her breathing steadied, the weight lifting bit by bit.

"Better?" he asked, concern still lacing his tone.

"Yeah," she breathed, straightening up. "Thank you."

"Always," he assured her.

Silence hung between them for a moment before Lando leaned casually against the railing beside her, his playful demeanor returning.

"Y'know," he began, "I'm trying not to freak out about this race, but if Ferrari wins, they'll take the constructors’ title. If we win, it's ours. So no pressure or anything."

She arched her brow, grateful for the distraction. "Is that your way of saying you're nervous?"

"Terrified," he admitted with a grin. "But don't tell anyone. Gotta keep up appearances."

They shared a laugh again before the atmosphere shifted, turning serious once more.

"You okay?" he asked gently, stepping closer.

She nodded, though it was a lie. "Just needed air."

Lando's brow furrowed. "You're a terrible liar."

She let out a shaky laugh. "I know."

He didn't press further, simply stood beside her in comfortable silence. The weight of his presence was strangely comforting, steadying her frayed nerves.

"You wanna talk about it?" he offered after a moment.

She sighed. "It's just... everything. Seeing Kelly, knowing she's pregnant. It just brought back all the stuff I thought I'd moved past."

Lando's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice soft. "You're allowed to feel that way. Doesn't make you weak."

"I hate that it still hurts," she admitted quietly.

He tilted his head, his blue eyes earnest. "That's 'cause you loved him. Real love doesn't just vanish, even when it should."

(Y/N) met his gaze, surprised by the raw understanding in his tone. "Since when did you get so wise?"

"Been hanging around a lot of emotionally stunted people," he teased, lightening the mood. "Had to learn something."

She smiled softly. "You're an excellent driver, Lando. If anyone can do it, it's you."

"High praise coming from a Sainz," he quipped, giving in to her change of topics.

She laughed. "Don't tell Carlos, but I'll be rooting for you. Either way, one of my brothers will win."

Lando's playful grin faltered, replaced by something more serious. His gaze darkened with an intensity that made her heart skip.

"I'm not your brother, (Y/N)" he said quietly, his voice low but resolute. "I've never been able to see you that way. Not since the moment I met you."

Her breath caught, the weight of his words hanging in the air between them. His confession was unspoken yet undeniable, etched into the very fabric of the moment.

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flickering with vulnerability. "You've always been more to me. The woman I look for in every room, even when I know I shouldn't. And yeah, maybe that's selfish or stupid, but it's the truth."

(Y/)'s heart raced, caught off guard by the confession.

"Lando..." she whispered, unsure of what to say.

He held up a hand. "I’m not saying this to make things harder for you. Just... I needed you to know."

Ocean blue eyes met her deep ones, clashing and melding with unspoken emotions and for a moment, the world faded around them.

"I don't know what to say," she admitted honestly.

"You don't have to say anything," he assured her. "Just know I'm here. Always."

The sincerity in his voice warmed something inside her that had long been cold

He smiled faintly, a mix of vulnerability and confidence. "We'll talk after the race."

"Thank you," she whispered. Though she didn´t know what she was thanking him for. The support? His help with the panic attack? The sincerity in his confession?

Lando smiled softly. "Anytime, Darling."

With that, he turned and walked away toward the Mclaren garage, leaving her standing there, stunned and breathless.

The race was a blur of adrenaline and tension. Carlos drove with everything he had, determined to leave Ferrari on a high note. (Y/N) watched from the garage, her heart in her throat as the laps dwindled down.

When the checkered flag waved, it was Lando who took the victory, with Carlos following closely in second, earning a podium finish in his final race with Ferrari. Charles managed third completing the last step at the podium.

The celebration was wild, but and as she made her way to the podium, (Y/N) found herself wandering, lost in thought.

She almost didn’t see him until it was too late.

Max stood under the dim glow of the paddock lights, his expression unreadable.

"(Y/N)."

Her heart clenched painfully at the sound of his voice. No Schatje. Just her name.

She steeled herself, meeting his gaze head-on. "Max."

There was a beat of silence, heavy with everything unsaid.

"I need to talk to you," he began, his voice rough. "I messed up. I should've stopped you that night in Hungary. I should've fought for you."

(Y/N)'s throat tightened. "But you didn't," The anger she had been suppressing for months finally boiled over. "Did those eight years mean nothing to you?" Her voice trembled, but she held her ground. "Or was it just that you were finally ready for commitment—just not with me?"

Max’s jaw tightened. "They meant everything, (Y/N). I made a mistake."

"A mistake?" she scoffed. "You had sex with Kelly, and now she’s pregnant. That’s not a mistake, Max. That’s a consequence."

He nodded, guilt etched into his features. "I know I made it worse. I didn't mean for any of it to happen."

"You have a baby on the way," she said quietly, the weight of that reality sinking in.

Max's voice cracked. "I wanted that with you. Always with you."

Her eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. "It doesn't matter anymore.” 

His shoulders tensed, pain and panic flickering across his face. "I know, I have to take responsibility now."

"Then do that. Be better for them than you ever were for me. But don’t stand here and act like this conversation changes anything between us. It doesn’t." Her voice wavered, but her resolve didn’t. “You can't call your child a mistake, Max. And you can't make the same mistakes with Kelly and your new family.”

His expression shattered. "Schatje—"

"No," she cut him off, her voice firm. "I loved you. And maybe I always will. But we are done. For good. And that's okay. I need to move on, and so do you."

The finality in her words hung between them, bittersweet and liberating.

She didn’t wait for a response. Without another word, she turned and walked away, her heart lighter despite the ache that lingered, leaving him with nothing but the words that should have been said long before now. 

φ

The podium ceremony was a chaotic blur. The noise was deafening as the celebrations reached their peak. Confetti rained down in shimmering bursts of red, green, and gold, swirling through the night air under the harsh lights. The drivers stood triumphant, champagne bottles in hand, grins stretched wide across their faces.

(Y/N) stood at the edge of the chaos with her family, watching Carlos bask in his well-earned final moment with Ferrari and cheering loudly for him. Her heart swelled with pride, the weight she'd carried for weeks finally dissipating into the night air. The conversation with Max had hurt, but it had given her what she needed—closure.

She breathed in deeply, savoring the freedom that came with letting go. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

Laughter echoed from the podium as the drivers sprayed each other with champagne, their suits drenched and sticky with victory. 

Just as she let out a slow breath, a movement from the podium caught her eye. One of the drivers that shared the Podium with Carlos glanced down at her from the elevated platform, bright eyes catching hers amidst the chaos.

A slow, mischievous grin spread across his handsome face. He winked, then pointed at the gleaming trophy in his hand and back at her, a playful challenge written in his expression.

(Y/N)'s lips parted in surprise before a laugh escaped her, light and genuine. "Oh, God," she whispered to herself, shaking her head. 

A familiar face. A new complication.

Well, that was a problem for another day.

For now, she let herself revel in the joy of the moment, the weight of the past finally behind her.

For now, she was free.

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

A/N 2: We reached the end of this Series. Who was the Driver winking at (Y/N) at the end, Lando or Charles?. Anyway that is a story for another day. Thank you if you stayed until this part, this is my first story that I post so it's very special for me. I hope you enjoyed it. What do you think?

Lando's Ending | Charles' Ending

Love you. -Xim

[hoe4hotchner]

Red to Blue | [A.H]

Pairing: F1 driver!Hotch x fem!reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: Sweat?

A/N: I’ll give you this in celebration of me finishing the Lego F1 cars I bought 🤭

The paddock buzzed with anticipation as the 2025 Formula 1 season was about to kick off under the bright Australian sun at the Albert Park Circuit in Melbourne.

The air was filled with the familiar scent of high-octane fuel and burnt rubber.

Amidst the grandeur of top teams like Ferrari and Red Bull, a renewed energy emanated from the Williams garage—a team historically rich in legacy, now attempting to reclaim its stature.

At the helm stood Aaron Hotchner, he was the newly appointed team principal of Williams. Years had passed since his celebrated tenure as a driver for Ferrari, where he had clinched multiple wins and a few world championships before an unexpected mid-season retirement.

His departure had been shrouded in speculation, but those close to him knew he sought a life beyond the circuits, a life with you.

Williams had approached him several times during his retirement, trying to reel him in, but only as you'd gotten a great job opportunity in the UK, had he agreed.

Now, with the same determination that had defined his driving career, Hotch was poised to steer Williams back to its former glory.

Beside him, you observed the meticulous dance of engineers and mechanics moving around the garage, their movements were a testament to the countless hours of preparation that the first race had foregone.

The team’s driver lineup had undergone a significant transformation: Carlos Sainz, formerly of Ferrari, brought a wealth of experience and a burning desire to prove himself even further.

It was an irony not lost on anyone—Carlos had been the one to take Hotch’s vacant Ferrari seat years ago. And Hotch had been the first to grab him for the team once made available.

Now, under Hotch’s leadership, their paths intertwined in an entirely different dynamic.

Alongside Carlos was Alex, whose resilience and adaptability had ensured him to continue in his seat at Williams. This pairing, although unusual, was a blend of seasoned expertise and tenacious spirit.

It had already begun to show promise in the early stages of the season.

As the cars lined up on the grid, the atmosphere was electric. The front row was dominated by the usual powerhouses, but Carlos had secured a P5 in qualifying, with Albon close behind in P7.

Hotch's gaze was fixed on the monitors, analyzing real-time data, his mind orchestrating potential strategies. His headset only covered one ear, as he stayed aware of his surroundings with the other.

"Nervous?" you teased, nudging him gently.

He offered a rare smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Always. But it's a good kind of nervous."

The formation lap commenced, engines roaring to life. Hotch’s voice, calm and authoritative, crackled over the team radio. "Stay focused. Remember our strategy. Trust the car, and trust yourselves."

As the lights went out, the race erupted into a blur of speed and tactical maneuvers. Carlos made an aggressive start, skillfully navigating through the pack to challenge for a podium position. Albon, displaying his characteristic finesse, defended his position while seeking opportunities to advance.

Hotch’s leadership was noticeable. He seamlessly coordinated with his engineers, making split-second decisions on tire strategies and pit stops. His transition from driver to team principal had endowed him with a unique perspective; he understood the car’s language and the driver’s psyche, allowing him to bridge the gap between the cockpit and the pit wall.

Mid-race, a sudden safety car deployment and added an element of unpredictability. Hotch’s experience shone through as he swiftly called for a double-stack pit stop, a bold decision that catapulted Carlos into P3. The Williams garage erupted in cautious optimism, the possibility of a podium finish within reach for the first time in years.

As the checkered flag loomed, Carlos defended his position against Lando, crossing the line to secure third place. Albon finished strong in P6, earning valuable points for the team. The Williams garage was a whirlwind of elation, the podium finish a testament to their collective effort and Hotch’s strategic insight.

Before entering the cooldown room, Carlos approached Hotch, his race suit drenched in sweat but his face alight with triumph. "Couldn’t have done it without your call."

Hotch clasped his shoulder, pride evident in his eyes. "It was all you out there. This is just the beginning."

As the national anthem played and the podium celebrations commenced, you stood amidst the team, Hotch's arm wrapped around your frame, pulling you close to him, your heart swelling with pride.

Hotch’s journey had come full circle—from a champion driver to a visionary leader, reigniting the spirit of a storied team. And through it all, you had been by his side, sharing in the highs, the lows, and now, the resurgence of a legacy.

[moonstruck-poet]

Red

Pairing - Carlos Sainz x reader!

Summary - It has just been Carlos' last race with Ferrari and you help him through it.

Warnings - none!

He did it. Oh he did it.

You never doubted him of course, but it was still surreal watching the red Ferrari bearing the number 55 cross the checkered flag.

Your cheeks would've split open with how wide they had been stretched from the moment you saw him zoom past the finish line.

His final race for Ferrari and it had ended spectacularly. There was some hurt in the garage on losing the constructor's championship, especially since Charles had tried so hard.

Yet your heart felt full, too many emotions overflowing through you that you weren't sure how to express it. You couldn't even say anything, only managing clap loudly as tears began forming in your eyes on hearing his radio message.

'Forza Ferrari Sempre' he said, his voice shaking not because of the car, but due to the emotions welling up in his throat.

"Sempre," you whispered to yourself, your lips pressed tightly together while your fingers clutched the small, delicate pendant of your necklace. A sentimental gift given by Carlos on your third marriage anniversary.

The events that followed were a blur to say the least. The two drivers were swarmed by the team for their wonderful performance during the entire season. You barely caught a glance of your husband as he was tackled by his crew, chuckling as they ruffled his hair wildly and hugged him tight.

As you watched him, your eyes were trained on his back, particularly on the Sainz written there in white, a startling contrast to the red. A rush of pride filled your chest, another wave of deep feelings seized control of your heart.

He was so, so loved. Such a happy soul that he spread positivity with a mere smile. That goddamn smile of his, it could make flowers grow. Always the shoulder to lean on, always there for everybody, always the constant rock in your life.

But right now he was just a driver being embraced by his team, a child being coddled by his family as they tried to be strong for the little one. They didn't care about the tears staining their faces, all they were worried about was making sure that he was alright.

At long last he was free enough to lift his head up and search for the one person he had longed to see. It didn't take long for his soft brown eyes to find yours, a grin lighting his face as he jogged over.

"Hey there," was all you said before he pulled you in his arms, wrapping them around and lifting you up with delight. A laugh was quick to escape your lips at his excitement, he looked happy, and that was all you had ever wanted.

"Amor," he muttered, sighing deeply and nuzzling into your shoulder while you smoothed out his hair.

"I know," you replied simply, understanding that there was so much that he wanted to say, the words on the tip of his tongue but were unable to flow. "It's time for the podium, Car".

He nodded, staying for some time, relishing in the moment and who were you to complain. You stood there, providing him with everything he needed. Not moving a muscle because he needed this. Because after the celebrations, he was supposed to come face to face with the harsh reality.

"I love you," he smiled, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. "So much".

"I love you too, corazõn. Now go get your trophy and come back to me".

He laughed, brushing his lips against your head before turning around and following his teammate.. soon to be his former teammate up the staircase to the podium.

You walked alongside his Dad, who had on a Ferrari cap that he hadn't removed since the beginning.

"You okay, Papa?"

Carlos Sainz Sr nodded but you saw the obvious in his eyes. He was of course happy for his son, beyond ecstatic at the podium finish, but the inevitable didn't stop plaguing his mind.

"It'll be okay," you said albeit with a little uncertainty. But you believed Carlos, you knew firsthand how hardworking he was. "He's gonna be okay".

"That's all I want," he said with a sad smile, wanting nothing more than to see his boy happy, and you squeezed his arm.

The podium celebrations went wild. And how wouldn't it be when not only had Ferrari scored a double podium, the McLaren had also finished first, thus ensuring the constructors championship.

There he was standing in second place, his head held high as he scanned the red mass of the Tifosi. Waving their flags, banners, jerseys as they cheered for their team. His eyes took it all in, soaking in the love because who knew what the future held.

Maybe this was it for him.

Maybe he had already reached his peak and whatever came next would only spiral his downfall. His heart clenched at the thought, slight fear gripping it as thoughts ran awry.

But then his eyes spotted you amidst the sea of people, looking so happy as you stood alongside his father. And by only looking at you, he felt himself ease up. He knew that whatever was gonna come next, he would face it, for he would always have you with him. His strength.

The crowd went ballistic once the drivers lifted their trophies, wasting no time in spraying each other with champagne. You laughed at their antics, at the way Carlos was completely drenched.

And soon enough they were whisked off to do their media duties and you knew it would be quite a time before you'd see him again. So you quietly walked back to the garage, letting the teams have their moment of joy.

"Oh hey, Max," you greeted one of your rather good friends who was walking towards you with Penelope in his arms.

"Hello to you too, P!" You laughed at how the girl quite literally threw herself at you, almost crushing you with her small arms.

"Yeah as if I wasn't the one to carry you all the way to her," Max rolled his eyes playfully while she giggled.

"What can I say, she loves me more," you murmured and Penelope, to fuel your little banter nodded.

You talked with her for a few minutes, complimenting the gorgeous Rapunzel-like hairdo she had on. Until her mother came looking for her and you waved your goodbye, promising to meet up soon during the break.

"How is he?" Max asked after they had left.

You sighed, "He's fine, or at least that's what he thinks. It just hasn't hit him yet".

He nodded in understanding, feeling for his former teammate. "He was brilliant today though. And Charles was simply amazing".

"He really was. Gaining these many positions? Yeah that's no easy task. But he's not doing well too, losing the championship by such a lesser margin.."

"I'll talk to him," he muttered before giving you a quick hug. "You should come visit now that the season's over. P loves having you and I uh- would really like your help".

"Of course of course," you grinned, "I still can't believe you're gonna be a dad, even though I knew it long before".

He only chuckled, "Neither can I. But it's gonna be one hell of an experience. What about you though huh? Planned anything yet?"

"We do talk about it sometimes," you shrugged. "I guess it'll all happen when the time's right".

Max gave you a quick hug before returning back to his garage and that's when you heard his voice.

"Cariño!"

A smile was on your lips before you turned around, purposefully taking small steps back making him scoff slightly as he reached over to pull you against his chest.

"You do know that you're drenched right?"

"Yes?"

You rolled your eyes, looking back at him only to find your breath hitching at the way he was looking at you, as though he had found the meaning of life. His gaze was trained on you, unflinching as he simply looked, observed. At this point your clothes were stained too but you couldn't care much as he placed a palm on your waist while the other held your cheek with utmost tenderness.

A small, barely visible smile graced his lips as his thumb moved across your cheek, the rest of his fingers on the nape of your neck. He easily ignored all the cameras that had panned towards you, surely capturing every tiny expression.

He pulled you even closer and you moved your palms from his chest to wound around his neck, waiting for him to say something.

He didn't speak, he showed.

By leading you forward with his hold on your jaw as your lips clashed and he kissed you passionately, so much that you were surprised. He wasn't one for displaying a lot of affection in public and neither were you. But you indulged in, not being able to resist your husband.

He pulled back, his face glistening with a mixture of sweat and champagne, his eyes alight with the prospect of winning in his last race, and the soft twitch of his lips because of you.

Suddenly you were aware of the cheers that were given by the crowd making you jolt awake. Your face was quick to burn as red dusted it and you hid yourself in his shoulders. Feeling his chest vibrate as he laughed and kissed the top of your head.

"That's my favorite couple!" Lando's yell was heard distinctly making you smile despite your little embarrassment.

"Vas a ser mi muerte, Carlos Sainz". [You're gonna be the death of me, Carlos Sainz]

He merely smirked while you lightly punched his arm and gave you an exaggerated flying kiss before he was dragged away by his team members.

You shook your head at his adorable behaviour, feeling your insides squirm with the amount of affection you held for this man.

You retired yourself in the garage, sitting in a corner and scrolling through your phone when a crew member got your attention informing you that it was time for the video.

"Can you please get his dad?" He asked in between his jogs and you nodded immediately, taking off in search of your father.

"Papa!" You waved your hand to get his attention and beckoned him over, explaining to him that the crew had prepared something for Carlos and wanted everyone there.

"Let's go then," he smiled at your enthusiasm as the two of you entered the all too familiar garage, that had always felt close to home due to the amount of time you had spent here.

The man of the day was already present and you let out a loud cackle on seeing him wearing a chilli suit, Zhou standing beside him as they posed for the photograph.

"Oh this is brilliant," you rushed forward to snap a picture of your own, grinning like a fool.

"¡Se ve bien, esposo!" [Looking good, husband]

He only groaned on seeing the mischievous look adorning your face, knowing that you were definitely going to use these rather wonderful pictures in the future for various purposes.

And now it was finally time for the video. A screen was brought in the centre, placed in front of Carlos as he looked confused. Everybody gathered around, forming a circle and you slipped behind, wanting to let them have their moment.

You had already seen the video, the team had sent it to you for approval as there were some clips of you two. All the way back from his early years when you were dating until now. So you had your eyes pinned on Carlos, watching his every reaction.

And for god's sake does it hurt to see the love of your life cry.

You were standing there, arms crossed as you watched him breakdown in front of you. You noticed the exact second when his eyes had glossed over. It was a small clip where he had won his first ever podium, the camera then cut to show the crew, or more specifically you. You had a headset on your head, your smile blinding as you cheered at the top of your voice for him.

Carlos bit his lip that was wobbling dangerously as the video showed memory after memory that was most precious to him, the ones that he held most dear. There were so many snippets of you and Charles, of your usual bickering over who loved him more that always made him laugh.

And as the clips fast forwarded to relive his past, a lone tear slipped down his cheek and the rest were quick to follow. Your own heart squeezed terribly, hammering uncomfortably inside your ribcage. Your cheeks were soon stained too.

You wiped them dry, scrunching up your nose on seeing his eyes reddening with every passing minute as he tried his best to not let go completely. But you could see he was this close to breaking down.

He swallowed as the video was coming to an end, feeling a new wave of tears crash upon him but he held himself, pressing his lips together as tight as he could as he looked at the many faces around him. Soft clapping and cheering echoed around the room as the small gratitude for him finished and he smiled through the emotions struggling to break free.

Many people patted him on the back, squeezing his shoulders and messing up his hair but it was all a blur for him. He was so overwhelmed, so close to bursting that he turned around and started looking for that one person.

His person.

He saw you standing a little far away and automatically his feet began moving your way. He smiled absentmindedly at the rest, his eyes solely focused on you.

And once he was within reach, Carlos Sainz fell right into your arms. The slowly tearing away barrier shattered once he held you. Tears swiftly escaped him as he cried, the entire day getting the best of himself.

His shoulders shook slightly, slowly but surely hurting your soul as you cried too. Unable to see him in such pain, incapable of being strong for him when he was so broken. Your fingers tangled in his hair, applying a gentle pressure as you soothed him.

"I've got you, love," you whispered, lips brushing against his dark brown locks that you so adored.

He didn't say anything, or rather he could not. He seemed to feel everything all at once and it was becoming a lot to bear. But steadily his head cleared, welcoming your voice that was constantly giving reassurances while encouraging him to breathe. And he listened, following your breaths to calm down.

"It's okay, Carlos. All I want you to know right now is that this is not the end, okay? You've got so much ahead of you, my love. This is just the beginning. And I'm not saying that there won't be any problems, there would be thousands. But I promise you that you'll get through this, exactly like you always do. And I'll be right here, exactly like I always am. You understand me?"

He nodded as best as he could with his head still pressed into your neck. He absorbed your words, finding solace in your calm and tender voice. It wouldn't be easy, but he could do it.

"It's just hard," he sniffed and pulled away. But before he could unwrap his arms from around your waist, your thumb had wiped his tears away. The tip of his nose was tinged with red and his eyes were bloodshot. His eyelashes glistened silver and even with the crying, he still looked so beautiful.

"It is," you agreed and leaned back against the wall, with him following suit beside you.

"Spending four years with a team, being around for so long that anything else just feels out of place. As if you don't belong there. But not everybody gets to complete their childhood dream too. Not everyone can say that I made my younger self happy. I'm just glad that I was able to do that. I'm actually grateful that they believed in me enough to let me carry the legacy for so long".

You smiled at his words, he was such a sweet soul. Always finding the best in everything and being so optimistic about the future despite the hurdles.

"I just know, that little Carlitos would be bursting with happiness, running around in circles screaming because he made it. He drove that red car".

Carlos laughed, sniffing as he looked at you with a newfound admiration. How glad he was that he'd met you, had the courage to ask you out and took his chance on marrying you. You were the best decision he had ever made and he saw why from time to time.

"Thank you," he said, looking down at the floor.

You moved from your spot to stand in front of him and he met your eyes. His eyelids fluttered close when you decreased the gap, kissing him softly.

"Red will always be your colour, love".

====================================

Back with another Carlos fic! And how could I not after those outrageous gifs that were haunting me every day. Ofc I didn't bawl my eyes out.

Also a huge THANK YOU for 200 followers!! And even more for the amount of love I receive on every fic that I upload. I love y'all<33

[starkwlkr]

boys on the radio | mark webber

can’t get over his joke about the french kiss vs an australian kiss

There was three specific times when Mark heard your voice on the radio. He remembers them exactly.

German Grand Prix 2009

The first Mark heard your voice on the radio was after he won his first Grand Prix. He was beyond happy. Before the race, you had told him you were still going to be proud of him no matter what. He did promise you he was going to win and he delivered.

His race engineer had told him through the radio how good of a job he did, but then he heard him mention his girlfriend’s name.

“Mark! You did so well! That was incredible! I love you so much, I love you.”

He melted as you spoke. This win was for you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, love. You make me so fucking happy. One day, I’ll marry you.”

Your relationship was just a year long, but he knew that you and him were soulmates. It was true.

On the other side of the radio, you blushed. This was the first time Mark had mentioned marriage to you. You weren’t opposed to the idea, in fact being married to Mark sounded like a dream. Hearing it from him gave you butterflies, as corny as that sounded.

“I love you, always.” You heared Mark say one last time.

Malaysia Grand Prix 2013

The second time Mark heard your voice on the radio was in 2013. It was your first race attending as a married couple since Mark kept his promise of marrying you. It was supposed to be a happy day. You watched as the teammates battle each other on the track. It was definitely a hard watch. You knew Mark would rant about it later on. Sebastian had ignored team orders and that was all anyone could talk about.

The checkered flag was waved, Sebastian taking the victory. You could already hear Mark telling you how frustrating it was.

“P2, Mark, P2.”

“Put her on now.” He demanded. His race engineer immediately knew who Mark was referring to.

“You did great, Mark. It’s okay.” You said, but no amount of words could make him less bothered.

“I did a shit job.”

“You could never. I’ll wait for you, alright? I love you so so much, okay? Don’t bring yourself down.”

After talking with him, you were accompanied by Mark’s dad to watch the podium ceremony. Mark watched you from his place and gave you a smile, even if he didn’t win. You blew his a kiss and mumbled an ‘I love you’.

After the ceremony and a quick ‘chat’ with Sebastian and the team, you and your husband were on your way to Greece for a much needed last minute vacation. It was Mark’s idea anyway, he knew how much you wanted to visit Greece and you knew that he needed a break so it was perfect.

Sao Paulo Grand Prix 2013

The third time Mark heard your voice on the radio was after his last race in F1. He came in second as Sebastian took home another victory.

“I think I’m about to cry.” You said to Mark. “Are you crying?”

“I’m out here sobbing actually.” He joked. “Thank you for sticking with me. I love you, darling.”

“Well you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I’ll see you at home, honey.”

“Can’t wait, handsome.”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jennifer Rubin at The Contrarian:

Are we in a “constitutional crisis”? You have likely heard that question innumerable times over the past three months, followed by a discussion as to whether our president has actually, explicitly, openly violated a court order (make that a Supreme Court order). When a question is so pervasive, it is safe to assume that yes, we are already there. When does the combo of authoritarian bullying, revenge seeking, stooge-nominating, retaliatory prosecuting, contemptuous litigating, and lawless usurpation of congressional power become a “crisis”? The word is defined by Merriam-Webster as “an unstable or crucial time or state of affairs in which a decisive change is impending…especially one with the distinct possibility of a highly undesirable outcome.” Frankly, we have been in that “crisis” since the first day of the Trump presidency.

When a Republican Congress allows the president to seize the power of the purse and does nothing, when the secretary of defense commits the worst breach of national security protocols in memory (and evidently doesn’t learn his lesson), or when Republicans refuse to reclaim the power to lay tariffs—despite a recession-inducing presidential trade war—the question is not if we are in a constitutional crisis, but just how bad it is. For Kilmar Ábrego García, Rümeysa Öztürk, Mahmoud Khalil, Mohsen Mahdawi, and scores of others who are legally present in the United States have been snatched up, incarcerated (or are facing incarceration) in a foreign gulag, and are deprived of their right to contest their confinement and visa revocation, the “constitutional crisis” is well underway. When the Supreme Court convenes “literally in the middle of the night” to stop the government from spiriting away Venezuelans in apparent contradiction of their instruction to give every individual a meaningful opportunity to oppose their deportation, the “constitutional crisis” has arrived.

Sen. Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.) knows a constitutional crisis. When asked explicitly whether we were in one on Meet the Press, he affirmed, “Yes, we are.” He had to fly down to El Salvador to see for himself Ábrego García’s condition, and upon his return, called out the president and his flacks for abject lies, even revealing the clumsy attempt to stage a scene suggesting he and Kilmar were tossing down margaritas on a tropical holiday. When such steps are required to confirm whether or not a lawful American resident is alive, we know this is not only the least trustworthy White House in modern history, but one seemingly eager to foment a constitutional crisis.

[...]

For the thousands of government workers fired, the law firms and universities bullied, the millions of Americans harmed by illegal cuts and firings, the charitable organizations living under the cloud of a possible IRS dragnet, and the former Trump officials and assorted Trump nemeses targeted for persecution, the “constitutional crisis” is here. When Trump betrays Ukraine, cozies up to the evil aggressor Russia, wrecks the international trading system, stokes inflation, and sends us hurling into a recession, that crisis extends beyond the Constitution. [...]

Media, politicians, activists, and courts must stop waiting for a checkered flag to start responding. We need every person, every officeholder, and every facet of society to tell Trump: “NO.” No obeying in advance, No bullying, No court defiance, No executive overreach, No betrayal of allies, and No gaslighting. Then, voters must defeat any MAGA enablers, henchmen, and cowering politicians who are encouraging or complicit in these unprecedented assaults on our democracy. And when Democrats (because, let’s be honest: there is no critical mass of Republicans prepared to return to democratic norms) regain power, they will need to rebuild government and erect a series of reforms (e.g., Supreme Court term limits or expansion; serious civil and criminal penalties for abrogating others’ constitutional rights or blocking congressionally appropriated funds; bright red lines on private citizens assuming governmental powers; complete divestiture of presidents’ business interests while in office) to secure our democracy.

Jennifer Rubin wrote a solid column on why Americans should stop waiting for a formal declaration of a constitutional crisis, as we’re already in one.

[rubywillkins]

Lando Norris | Beyond the checkered flags

Pairing Lando × female reader

Warning smut, frenemy, insecurity

Y/n had always been part of the Formula 1 world, though not directly. Her childhood friend, Lando, was one of the most celebrated drivers on the grid, and their mutual friends ensured she was never far from the paddock drama. They had grown up together, thick as thieves but constantly at odds—a dynamic their friends loved to tease.

“You two fight like you’re in love,” Clara quipped one evening at a dinner.

Y/n smirked. “Please. His ego would suffocate me.”

Lando shot back, “And her stubbornness would drive me straight into the gravel.”

The room erupted into laughter, but neither noticed the fleeting glances they exchanged when the other wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t until a rainy summer barbecue that their dynamic shifted. Yn was sitting under a gazebo, watching Lando charm a group of fans who had crashed the party. She sipped her wine, trying to ignore the dull ache in her chest. Meanwhile, Lando couldn’t shake how Y/n’s laugh—melodic and carefree—seemed to pierce through the noise around him.

Later that night, as the rain drizzled down, he found himself texting her.

“You should come to a race,” he wrote.

Y/n stared at her phone, her heart skipping a beat. “Sure, let me just hop on my private jet,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“I’m serious,” Lando texted back. “Let me handle it. I want you to see me race.”

Y/n hesitated. She hated the idea of accepting something so extravagant, even from Lando. “I’ll think about it,” she finally replied, hoping he’d drop the subject.

But Lando wasn’t one to give up. Over the next few days, he bombarded her with calls and texts. “Y/n, don’t be stubborn. It’s nothing for me to arrange. You’ve always been there for me—let me do this for you,” he said late one night, his voice softer than usual.

Her resistance melted. A week later, she found herself walking beside him in the bustling paddock of the British Grand Prix. The air vibrated with the roar of engines, the sharp smell of rubber and gasoline filling her senses. She felt out of place, but Lando’s presence was grounding.

But the day wasn’t without its thorns. By the evening, y/n discovered a slew of toxic comments on social media: “Who’s the girl with Lando? Another fame-hungry wannabe.” “She looks so out of place. Clearly, not his type.”

Y/n tried to shrug it off, but the words gnawed at her. Back at his hotel room, Lando noticed her unusually quiet demeanor.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

She hesitated before showing him her phone. “It’s just...people online. Nothing important.”

Lando scrolled through the comments, his jaw tightening. “y/n, don’t let these idiots get to you. They have no idea who you are.”

She looked away, biting her lip. “It’s hard not to care.”

He cupped her chin, gently tilting her face toward his. His touch was warm, his eyes smoldering with an intensity that made her pulse race. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice low. “You’re incredible. And anyone who says otherwise doesn’t deserve to know you.”

Her breath hitched, their proximity electric. “Lando…”

Before she could say more, his lips were on hers—firm, urgent, yet achingly tender. Lando melted into him, her hands clutching the front of his shirt as he pulled her closer. The kiss deepened, years of unspoken emotions unraveling in the heat between them.

He broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against her lips, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Y/n gazed up at him, her cheeks flushed. “Maybe I’ve wanted it too.”

Lando’s hands slid to her waist, his touch firm yet reverent. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Y/s’s heart pounded, but there was no hesitation. “I’m not going anywhere.”

What followed was a night of raw, unrestrained passion. Lando worshipped her like she was the only thing that mattered, He took her in his arms in bridal style, and than put her on bed slowly. "I just love you sweetheart so much" before she could even reply he just started kissing her hungrily... it was rough but with care...

He started to undress her while making out..

The moment the Bra was off of her.. he just froze.. he admired the her breasts like they were kind of sweet.. " lando stop.." she said while blushing.. "oh c'mon they are adorable, lemme taste them" he started sucking them like a hungy poor guy who didn't get food since days...

One hand pinching other niple while other was gropping one while he is sucking it.. and you.. you were a fucking moaning mess.. and than he slowly moved to your clit... And started drawing circles on it... He suddenly slipped his all 3 fingers inside you... You gasped... " Lando..be gentle Baby".." yea baby.. I will try.. i will try to be very gently rough"..

"argh you are so good lando"... He was fucking you with his all three fingers... While sucking your clitoris... And than... He put his dick inside you in a split second.. givinh you shockwaves every min.. or should I say every second..

He was good infact he was firee.. after some time.. you both cum together...

You let yourself fall, surrendering to the heat and emotion that had simmered between both of you, for years.

By morning, they lay tangled in the sheets, the first rays of sunlight painting the room in soft hues. Lando traced lazy patterns on her bare shoulder.

“So,” he began with a smirk, “will you come to more races with me?”

Y/n laughed, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Only if you promise to win.”

“For you?” he said, leaning down to kiss her again. “Always.”

From that day on, y/n and Lando faced the highs and lows of his career together. In a world of speed and chaos, they had found something steady and unshakable: each other.

..........................................................................................

Authors note

As per the pole results.. Lando Norris won by 0.6% from Oscar. I personally think it's almost a tie.

[37sommz]

000.⠀⠀NOW PLAYING: long live [1.5k, angst]. ✼. view: masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. synopsis: michaela says goodbye. ✼. notes: totally heartbroken for daniel. for all he's done for this sport, he truly deserved so much more than what he got. enchanté, daniel. ✼. warnings: daniel's last race, crying. not proofread, but when do i ever?

✼.⠀SEPTEMBER 22, 2024 — marina bay, singapore

Michaela gripped the steering wheel of her Aston Martin as she rounded the streets of Marina Bay. The roar of the engine filled her ears as she sped through the tight turns of the track, the city lights of Singapore blurring into a dizzying spray of color beyond the tire barriers. The air held anticipation and the smell of an uneasy question. She had heard the whispers all weekend, the murmurs that danced just out of earshot. Daniel Ricciardo, the man who had practically become part of her family, might not be in the paddock much longer. Her heart raced, not just from the exhilaration of the race, but from the thought of losing a piece of her world.

The checkered flag dropped, and she pulled into the pit lane. The chaos of the grandstands and the flashing lights of cameras were a harsh, ironic contrast to the turmoil storming within her. She stepped out of the car, forcing a smile for the cameras as she went through the motions of the post-race interviews. She had done well, finishing 5th to Fernando's 4th, but the success felt hollow. Her thoughts remained with Daniel, who had just completed his final lap for the Bulls. She had avoided him all weekend, the weight of his potential departure too much to bear. But now, as the race concluded and the tension began to ease, she knew she had to see him.

Michaela walked to Daniel's side of the RB garage, her heart thumping like the British engine she had just left behind in her own garage. She pushed open the door and found him surrounded by his team, sharing a bittersweet moment. His eyes met hers and she saw the unshed tears glittering underneath the fluorescent lights. He tried to flash his signature grin, but it faltered, and she knew the truth had sunk in for both of them. The laughter lines around his eyes didn't hide the pain. He was saying his goodbyes, and she had missed most of it.

As the last of the well-wishers left, Daniel turned to his car, running a hand over its gleaming carbon fiber bodywork. She approached him tentatively, her eyes brimming with tears she hadn't realized she'd been holding back. He looked at her, his own eyes red and glassy.

"Hey, kid," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

She took a step closer, feeling the warmth of the engine's last breath radiating off the car.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" He tried to laugh, but it came out as a choked sob.

Michaela's own tears spilled over, tracing paths down her cheeks. "Daniel, I'm so sorry," she whispered, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving the car that had been his life for so many seasons. "It's alright, Mick. It's just racing, right?" Even in his most vulnerable moment, Daniel couldn't fight the instinct to comfort the girl he had watched grow into a woman.

Michaela felt the warmth of his voice wrap around her like a familiar blanket, but the words didn't bring the relief she sought.

 "No, it's not just racing," she said, her voice trembling. "You've been there for me, through all the tough times, the crashes, the doubt, the fights to be taken seriously in this sport." She swallowed hard, her eyes searching his for understanding. "You've been my rock, my inspiration. You can't just leave. Not like this."

Daniel turned to face her, his smile sad but earnest. "Mick, you know this isn't the end. I'll still be around, driving Courie crazy.” 

The reference to Michaela’s sister, Daniel’s girlfriend—his Courie—stuck watching the race from her lab in Sydney only brought a knot to Michaela’s stomach. Michaela had spoken briefly to her sister before the race, Courtney had been inconsolable over the phone, pushed beyond guilt that she couldn’t be by her boyfriend’s side to help shoulder the emotions during the last race of his Formula 1 career.

“And you," he continued, pointing at her, "You're gonna kill it out there without me."

Michaela couldn't hold back anymore. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, feeling the coarse fabric of his fireproofs and the solidity of his frame. He hugged her back, his own arms enveloping her in a comforting warmth she hadn't realized she needed. They stood there for a moment, two friends sharing the weight of a career's crossroads, their hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of the cooling engines around them.

"Thank you," she murmured into his shoulder. "For everything."

"You can thank me when you win a championship," Daniel said, his voice breaking despite himself.

Michaela pulled back, wiping at her eyes. "It should've been you first," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You should've been a champion." Her tears continue to fall, her cheeks stained by the path they leave on her skin.

"Maybe, but don't worry about me," Daniel said, his eyes glistening. "You still have your whole career ahead of you."

Michaela nodded, her vision blurred by the tears. "I know, but it won't be the same without you."

The silence grew heavy in the garage, punctuated only by the occasional clang of tools being packed away. The reality of Daniel's departure was setting in, a stark reminder of the fleeting nature of their sport.

"You know, I never thought I'd be leaving like this," Daniel said, his gaze still on the car. "But I guess that's how it goes when you get too attached to the ride."

Michaela nodded, her throat tight. "It's not fair," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "You're one of the best out there."

"Life's not about fair," Daniel replied, his hand coming up to ruffle her hair, a gesture that brought a ghost of a smile to her face. "But it's about making the most of what you've got. And I guess I've gotta get a new thing now."

Michaela stepped back, taking in the sight of her friend, his shoulders slumped and his usual vibrant spirit dulled by the shadow of his uncertain farewell. She felt a pang of anger at the unfairness of it all. Daniel had given so much to Formula 1, and yet, it seemed to be discarding him as if a worn-out tire. But she knew better than to let her the weight of her emotions sweep her up, not here, not now. She took a deep breath, straightening her spine.

"You're right," she said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her chest. "We've got to make the most of it. And you," she poked his arm gently, "Have got more to give, more to show the world. Whatever's next, you'll shine just like you always do."

Daniel offered a weak smile, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thanks, Mick." He paused, taking in the sight of the emptying garage, his team packing up the last of his gear.

"I just thought I'd be here for a little longer, you know? When I left Red Bull for Renault I thought that my time was next, that I was gonna be the one on the top step for once. Then McLaren called and I fuckin'—" He choked back further tears. "I felt like that was it. But when it never came I just..."

He trailed off, the heartbroken look in his eyes drawing Michaela deeper into her melancholy. Michaela nodded solemnly, understanding the ache in his words. "You're so much more than that, Daniel. You brought your joy to so many people. I know for sure that you've got so much left to give. And you will, in whatever you do next." She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

"You've taught me so much," she continued, her voice cracking. "How to keep pushing when everything is useless and I feel like giving up. How to laugh when the world is against your joy. How to be a better driver to my team and a better person to the people I love. I wouldn't still be here if it weren't for you. So, thank you Daniel. So, so much."

"You're going to be okay, you hear me?" He said, his voice gruff with emotion. "You're going to be more than okay."

Michaela nodded, trying to hold onto his words like a lifeline in the storm of her feelings. Daniel took a step back and wiped his own eyes with the back of his hand. "But for now," he said, his voice firming up, "Let's go grab a drink. You know, to celebrate the end of an era and all that fuzzy shit."

They laughed through their tears, a bit of the old familiar banter slipping back in. They walked out of the garage together, leaving the echoes of their past successes and heartaches behind. The paddock was alive with the sounds of teams breaking down and preparing for the next race. 

Yet, for them, the world had slowed down to an unwilling crawl.

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[coff33andb00ks]

Congrats on 1k!!!

📝 + Lewis and reader and the silverstone win, their reactions, their celebrations, stuff like that 🥰

Thank you so much!!

Join me at the 1k bonfire!

Ohhhh this would have been beyond special for both of them. Lewis's last home race with Mercedes, surrounded by the people who've rooted for him since he was a kid?? (I still get choked up just thinking about the radio immediately after ugggghhhh)

You knew he would win of course. You always say that even when you don't think it - and you'll never tell him that sometimes you don't think he'll win. Because you know he can. He's fucking Lewis Hamilton. You're crying before he gets past the checkered flag, and when you hear his voice in your ears, his emotions boiling over, you're sobbing.

Two and a half years since he's won a race. As the time has grown longer you've of course seen his worry, heard his fears. "I'm getting old now darling, maybe..."

He's never finished that thought aloud - maybe I'll never win another - and now you're glad he hasn't. Because he's done it - here, at home.

It's tears and laughter. Hugs among his family and the Mercedes team that could crack a rib. And then there's him.

Lewis.

Forehead to helmet, teary eyes staring into teary eyes. His cheeks are wet and the hands gripping your shoulder are trembling, just as his voice. "We did it darling."

"You did it."

"Couldn't have without you."

More tears and more laughter. Champagne flows for hours it seems but it's really for the cameras. For the team. Then it's just you and him and Roscoe, piled up on the bed. Lewis loves to groan that he can't hang with the "kids" and party like he used to, like the world expects him to. The celebration is lowkey and filled with love, like everything Lewis does.

A quiet talk while his head rests in your lap, Roscoe snoring next to you. Hands linked, and you can hear the childish wonder in his voice as he talks about what Silverstone means to him. There's dinner with his family soon, but for the time just him and you. And later, when the two of you crawl into bed again his lovemaking is sweet, befitting the emotions of the day.

[linnitheo]

Under the Checkered Flag

Max’s POV

The hum of engines filled the paddock, a familiar yet electrifying sound that coursed through Max Verstappen’s veins. Race day. It was a sensation he never got used to; the adrenaline, the anticipation, the pressure. He thrived on it. He was at the top of his game, the youngest world champion, leading Red Bull with precision and grit. And yet, amid all the controlled chaos of the F1 world, there was one thing — one person — who could make him feel more alive than the thrill of racing.

You.

You were unexpected in every way. A PR consultant initially, brought on board to handle the escalating media frenzy around his rising fame. You weren’t starstruck; if anything, you seemed immune to the glitz of the F1 world. No, you were sharp, quick-witted, and completely focused on your job. But Max had a way of breaking down barriers, and it didn’t take long before you were spending time together beyond just the track. He’d find reasons to hang around the media center, just to catch a glimpse of you juggling journalists and managing Red Bull’s image with effortless grace.

The morning of the Italian Grand Prix was no different. Max was already dressed in his race suit, helmet in hand, and ready to get to work, but his eyes scanned the paddock, searching. When he saw you, phone to your ear, clipboard in hand, he couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. You caught his gaze and rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Focus, Verstappen,” you mouthed, a playful challenge.

“Always,” he mouthed back, though he knew his focus was already split.

Y/N’s POV

You hung up the call, trying to maintain your professional facade as you made your way through the throng of engineers, drivers, and media. Working with Max was unlike anything you’d expected. The guy was a force of nature on track, but off it, he had a way of drawing you in with that intense stare and unguarded charm.

It had started innocently enough — late-night debriefs that turned into long conversations about everything but racing. You found yourself laughing more, lingering in his motorhome even when your job was done. Max was magnetic, and resisting him felt impossible.

The paddock was bustling, everyone operating on a tight schedule as the race loomed closer. You found yourself watching Max more than you should, captivated by the way he moved with a casual confidence, like he owned the place. And maybe he did. He’d made it clear he was the one to beat this season, and his rival, Charles Leclerc, was hot on his heels.

Your heart beat a little faster as you watched him step into his car, every movement precise and deliberate. He looked up and caught your eye one last time before the helmet went on, a silent promise in his gaze.

You wanted him to win. Not just because it was your job to ensure Red Bull maintained their stellar reputation, but because you wanted it for Max. You wanted to see that victorious smile that reached his eyes, the one that was just for you when the cameras weren’t looking.

The lights went out and the race started, cars darting off the line with a deafening roar. You were on your feet in the garage, eyes glued to the screens as Max surged ahead, taking the first corner with the precision of a master. It was a tough race — Leclerc was relentless, the Ferraris faster on the straights, but Max was tenacious, finding grip where there was none, pushing his car to the absolute limit.

A collision on lap 38 had everyone holding their breath. Max and Leclerc side by side, neither willing to back down. You bit your lip, watching as Max held his ground, the two cars nearly touching at 300 km/h. Your heart pounded, fear mixing with exhilaration.

Max’s POV

Max could feel the pressure mounting. Leclerc was right on his tail, and the Ferrari was fast, too fast. But Max wasn’t about to let this one slip away. He had the inside line, and he was going to use it. They were wheel-to-wheel through the chicane, and for a moment, it felt like everything slowed down. He could hear his engineer in his ear, but it was white noise. This was it — the moment of truth.

Leclerc made a desperate lunge, but Max held firm, squeezing him just enough to make his point but not so much that they’d both end up in the gravel. It was aggressive, it was bold, but it was clean. He was through, and as he glanced in his mirrors, he saw Leclerc had backed off, finally conceding.

Max’s heart was racing as he crossed the finish line, the checkered flag waving above him. He did it. Another win. But as the adrenaline began to fade, his thoughts immediately drifted to you. He parked his car, the victory cheers filling the air, but his eyes were searching the garage, looking for you.

Y/N’s POV

The garage erupted in cheers, but you barely registered it. Max had done it. He’d held off Leclerc and crossed the line first, and you couldn’t contain the rush of emotion that surged through you. Relief, pride, something else you couldn’t quite name but felt every time you saw him.

You pushed through the throng of team members and media, making your way to where Max was climbing out of the car. He was surrounded by cameras, microphones thrust in his face as reporters fired off questions. But then his eyes found yours, and the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.

He pushed past the reporters, striding toward you with purpose. Before you knew it, his arms were around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. For a moment, you didn’t care who was watching. It was just you and Max, and the unspoken connection that had been building between you.

“You did it,” you whispered against his ear, feeling the tension in his body slowly release.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he replied, his voice low and sincere.

You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. There was something there, something beyond the rush of victory. You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on yours, the kiss hard and fast, filled with the pent-up energy of the race and something more.

It wasn’t until you pulled away, breathless and slightly dazed, that you remembered where you were. The cameras were still flashing, the reporters still talking, but none of it seemed to matter. Max’s thumb brushed against your cheek, a small, intimate gesture that made your heart flutter.

“Guess the secret’s out,” he said with a chuckle, glancing at the cameras.

“Seems that way,” you replied, trying to catch your breath.

Max grinned, his hand still on your cheek, and for a moment, you saw the boyish charm that lay beneath the fierce competitor. He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’m glad,” he whispered. “I’m tired of hiding how I feel about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the vulnerability in his voice something you hadn’t expected. You nodded, unable to find the right words but knowing exactly what he meant. This wasn’t just a fling, or a distraction. It was real, and for the first time, you let yourself hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d found something worth holding on to.

Max’s POV

Max didn’t care about the cameras or the questions that would come later. All he cared about was you, and the way you looked at him like he was more than just a driver, more than just the face of a team. With you, he felt seen — truly seen. And as he held you close, he knew one thing for certain: this was just the beginning.

With you by his side, he could take on the world, both on and off the track. And as the crowd cheered and the cameras flashed, Max Verstappen, the fierce, unrelenting racer, found something he hadn’t even realized he was missing.

Home.

With you.

END

[agentstarkid]

ENCHANTED TO MEET YOU ✦ DR3

✦ DEBRIEF: Amid the vibrant energy of a New Year's Eve party, chance encounters led to unexpected connections where captivating eyes, a charming accent, and a carefree personality were all she needed to be forever enchanted by his presence.

✦ PAIRINGS: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 7.3K words

✦ TRACK LIMITS: female!reader, latina!reader, fluff, really sappy thoughts, there's a nine-year age gap.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: holis babes! i'm back with another attempt at writing! the last chapters were angsty and i needed a lil bit of equilibrium so please enjoy reading how the night they met went. Y'all can thank Tally for it <3 + FYI, the next chapter is nowhere being finished yet—this is a little treat for y'all because of that— this past month has been crazy at my job and the chia seeds' harvest season starts in June so I'm not sure how much time—or energy—I'll have. I'd probably be a bit absent but I'll try my best to keep this show going. Also, can you guys find all the references? 👀 PLEASEEEE let me know what you think of this. 'kay, byeee.

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | next chapter >

December 31st, 2019 | 6:27 p.m.

As the world buzzed with excitement in anticipation of the approaching New Year, with its promises of new beginnings and fresh starts, I found myself yearning for something different. While others eagerly made plans for extravagant celebrations and wild parties, my heart longed for the simple comforts of home. The allure of crowded festivities and glittering fireworks paled in comparison to the warmth of my own cozy sanctuary, where I could embrace solitude. In a world that seems to thrive on noise and commotion, all I desired was the quiet embrace of familiarity and peace.

Despite my steadfast resolve to stay home, I found myself facing relentless persuasion from a certain Dutch DJ, my long-time friend Martin Garrix. His invitations to join him at a New Year's Eve party in New York, where he was scheduled to perform, grew more insistent with each passing week. Not content to pursue this endeavor alone —and knowing he wouldn’t be able to win this battle by himself—, Martin enlisted the help of my closest confidantes—Fio, my ever-reliable personal assistant; Vittoria, the vivacious soul who never shies away from adventure; and Danna, the wise and grounding presence in our lives.

You'd think that at 21, with a career that keeps reaching new heights everyday, I'd be excited to join those types of celebrations.

Nuh-uh.

Years ago, the prospect of attending a high-profile party filled with celebrities and socialites would have thrilled me beyond measure. Back then, I reveled in the glamour and excitement, relishing the chance to mingle with the elite and bask in the spotlight.

Furthermore, the aftermath of my final breakup with Harry —after two years together and the last year of it being on-and-off— had left me feeling disillusioned and wary of the intentions of those around me. Once the darling of the celebrity circuit, I now found myself excluded from the inner circles I once frequented, my invitations to exclusive events dried up almost overnight. It's a harsh reality I had to come to terms with, one that has left me questioning the true nature of the friendships I once held so dear.

With Martin's persistent pleas ringing in my ears, I gathered my resolve and attempted to explain my desire for a quiet evening in. “Guys, I really appreciate the effort, but I just want to stay home tonight,” I insisted, sinking deeper into the cushions of the couch. “I've been looking forward to a High School Musical marathon all week.”

Fio, my fiery assistant, raised an incredulous eyebrow. “High School Musical? Are you serious, chica? This is New Year's Eve! Yo lo que quiero es que salgas a janguear patabajo y pasarla de show. You can watch Zac Efron dance any other night!” Hailing from the sun-kissed shores of Puerto Rico, she wore her heritage proudly, her voice ringed out with the rhythmic cadence of her native land.

Vittoria, the true embodiment of Brazilian beauty and spirit with her sun-kissed complexion and luminous smile, chimed in with a playful grin. “Yeah, fofinha, come on! You can even ask Martin to play ‘The Start of Something Newʼ if it pleases you,” she grabbed my left hand between both of hers and tugged at it, “We can dance and sing along to Zac Efron together at the party!” she exclaimed, shaking my arm excitedly. 

Well... I could definitely ask Martin to play it, he'd probably say yes in a heartbeat if it meant I would cave in and go to this party. After all, he's been awfully insistent on my attendance. 

Danna, the 23-year-old American with an effortless grace and quiet confidence, offered a gentle smile. “I understand wanting a cozy night in, but trust me, you'll regret missing out on this party. It'll be a night to remember.” she punned with a wink and smiled when Vitto offered her an enthusiastically high five. Vitto sometimes reminded me of a puppy with an impressive amount of energy and excitement, always prompting me to try and keep up with her and leave my comfort zone.

Despite their protests, I remained steadfast in my decision. There was no way I was moving from this couch. “Thanks, guys, but I'm sticking to my plan. You all go ahead and have fun without me.” However, I was but a simple human surrounded by three forces of nature and it was super clear that my friends had other ideas and soon they were bustling around me, pulling me off the couch and insisting I get ready for the night ahead.

Reluctantly, I allowed the girls to coax me off the couch and into action. With Fio's enthusiastic energy, Vittoria's impeccable sense of style, and Danna's calming presence, they transformed my quiet night in into a whirlwind of preparation for the party.

Fio rummaged through my closet, pulling out a stunning short dress made with net-woven high-end silver jewelry that would—quoting her—help highlight and show mi sazón latino among the precious stones, while Vittoria offered her expert opinion on the perfect outfit. “Uff mami, that definitely screams ‘New Year's Eve glam’!” she declared, holding up the sparkling ensemble that catched the light just right. 

Meanwhile, Danna took charge of my hair and makeup, opting for a soft, glamorous look. “You're going to turn heads tonight, babes,” she assured me, brushing a hint of shimmer onto my cheeks. 

Despite my initial resistance, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement as I watched my reflection transform before my eyes.

“Who knows, babes,” Danna paused, carefully applying a nude shade gloss to my lips. “Maybe you’ll find your own Troy Bolton tonight, and have your own The Start of Something New moment” she wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

“You are on a roll tonight with the puns and references, aren’t you Dannita?” Fio peeked out her head from inside my closet and asked jokingly, letting out a laugh while she ducked from a damp sponge lightheartedly tossed her way by Danna.

“Nossa, cara! Você parece uma deusa!” Vitto exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine admiration. (Wow, dude! You look like a goddess!)

A blush crept up my cheeks at her compliment, and I turned to Danna with a grateful smile. “Seriously, Danni, you've outdone yourself,” I praised her, marveling at her skill in transforming me for the evening. “Thank you for making me feel like royalty.”

With a modest smile, Danna accepted my gratitude, her eyes shining with pride at the success of her handiwork. And then, just as the last finishing touches were being applied, she posed the inevitable question: “So, what are your New Year's resolutions?”

With a playful grin, I shrugged, the weight of the question settling over me like a familiar cloak. “I think this year,” I replied, my voice tinged with determination, “I just want to have fun and focus on myself. No boys, no drama, just me.” It was a simple resolution, yet one that carried a weight of significance, a commitment to prioritize my own happiness and well-being above all else.

As I sat there, unaware of their subtle exchange, the girls exchanged knowing glances and smiles, a silent understanding passing between them. Little did I know, they had orchestrated this moment with a shared knowledge of Martin's plans for the evening.

After I was allowed to rose from my seat, I grabbed and put on the large hoops and a set of very discreet rings that Vitto opted for, she explained to me that the expensive design I was wearing ‘perfectly adorned my tanned skin in such a way that I did not need almost any other accessory to elevate the look to its maximum potential’. 

As I waited for the girls to finish getting ready, I idly scrolled through my WhatsApp contacts' status updates, seeking a distraction from the anticipation bubbling inside me. My mom uploaded a video showing all the food they had cooked for dinner. A homesick feeling hit me even if I just came back from spending two weeks at home. Next, Martin’s status showed up on my screen, he posted a photo showcasing his DJ set getting set up for the party. I tapped on his name and took a quick selfie flipping him off playfully and sent it, he didn’t take long to respond with “Does this mean I won?” followed by two pairs of eyes emoji. “Yes” I answered, also followed with the rolling eyes emoji. 

I scrolled through a couple others, when I stumbled upon Selena’s. She posted a selfie all dolled up with her friends and pinned New York City as her location which piqued my curiosity. I composed a brief message, my fingers dancing over the keys as I typed out a casual inquiry about her plans for New Year's Eve in NYC. A response appeared on my screen moments later, “Hey girl! We’re actually heading to a party at The Bowery Hotel. What about you?” a smile tugged at the corners of my lips as excitement coursed through my body, I haven’t seen Sel in a while! We’ve been friends for years and she was one of the few people that was always there to lend me an ear and words of advice whenever I went through a rough patch in my life. “No way! That's where we’re going too! Maybe we'll bump into each other!”

“That’s awesome!!!!! I'll keep an eye out for you. See you there!” she replied. I let out a little happy sigh and shook my head. With my friends by my side, laughter filling the room, I began to anticipate the night ahead with a newfound sense of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, this New Year's Eve won't be so bad after all.

Unbeknownst to the singer, Martin's persistent efforts to persuade her to attend the party were driven by a secret agenda. For months, he has harbored a hidden desire to introduce her to a friend of his, in the hopes of sparking a connection between them. Despite Martin's best intentions, his attempts to orchestrate their meeting have thus far been thwarted by her obliviousness to his matchmaking schemes.

After receiving the confirmation that the first part of his plan had been successful, Martin discreetly sent a text message to his friend, informing him of her attendance. “She's finally agreed to come,” he typed, a hint of excitement evident in his words. “Be ready to charm her off her feet.”

On a different hotel floor, a 5'10'' curly-haired Aussie’s mind raced with possibilities, wondering who this mystery woman could be.

With a shrug, he tapped out a quick reply, his fingers flying over the keys as he crafted a response. “Sounds intriguing,” he typed, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. “Looking forward to meeting her. Just hope I can keep up with your high expectations mate!” As he hit send, Daniel couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that lingered in the air.

Daniel's phone buzzed again with a response from Martin, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the playful banter that ensued. “Oh, don't worry,” Martin's message read, “I have complete faith in you. Just be yourself, that’s all you need”

Daniel grinned at his friend's confidence. Despite not knowing much about this mysterious woman, he couldn't deny the thrill of anticipation that coursed through his veins. With a sense of determination, he resolved to make the most of this opportunity, determined to leave a lasting impression on whoever this enigmatic figure turned out to be.

Little did he know, this chance encounter would set the stage for a fateful meeting that would change the course of his life in ways he never could have imagined.

As the sleek black car pulled up to the curb outside The Bowery Hotel, the pulsating energy of New York City's nightlife enveloped us like a warm embrace. Stepping out onto the bustling sidewalk, we were greeted by the soft glow of string lights and the distant hum of music drifting from the rooftop above.

Linking arms, we made our way through the elegant lobby of the hotel, the click of our heels echoing against the polished marble floors. Excitement crackled in the air as we rode the elevator to the top floor, anticipation mounting with each passing moment.

As the doors slid open to reveal the rooftop terrace bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights, we were met with a breathtaking view of the city skyline glittering against the night sky. The sound of laughter and conversation filled the air, mingling with the infectious beat of the music that pulsed through the crowd.

We stepped out onto the terrace and navigated through the crowd, the scent of champagne and laughter filled the air; our eyes alight with wonder as we took in the scene before us. The air was alive with the hum of excitement for the new year ahead.

Finding a secluded corner of the rooftop, I paused and craned my neck in search of the blond responsible for me being away from my cozy apartment that night. I spotted him talking with some people near where his set was set up. When our eyes met, he waved enthusiastically, his excitement palpable even from a distance.

Exchanging quick pleasantries, Martin excused himself from the group he was chatting with, his strides purposeful as he made his way towards our little circle. With a grin that could light up the entire city, Martin reached our group, his charismatic presence immediately drawing us in. “Ladies, you look stunning tonight,” he greeted us with a cheeky smile on his face, “and well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” he teased, his voice laced with playful banter as he directed his attention towards me.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes in mock exasperation, a smirk playing at the corners of my lips. “I had four people ganging up on me, Martin, I couldn't exactly resist for long” I replied, my tone teasing as I shot him a playful glare.

Martin chuckled, his laughter infectious as he leaned in to give me a playful nudge. “That's what I like to hear! Now, let's show you what you almost missed by being a grumpy old lady tonight,” he exclaimed, his enthusiasm contagious as he gestured towards the bustling rooftop party surrounding us.

Half an hour later, Daniel made his way through the vibrant crowd, his eyes scanning the faces around him, he caught sight of Martin amidst the sea of revelers. With a nod of recognition, he approached his friend, a curious glint in his eyes. 

Martin turned towards him with a grin, anticipation dancing in his eyes. “Hey! What’s up, mate?” he gave him a quick hug. “She's already here," Martin exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement.

Daniel's interest was piqued, and he glanced around the crowded rooftop, searching for any indication of who Martin was referring to. “Oh, really?” Daniel replied, his curiosity evident in his tone.

Martin nodded eagerly, but instead of gesturing towards our group, he simply smiled mysteriously. “Yep, but I'll introduce you later. Duty calls,” he said with a shrug, gesturing towards the stage where he was needed.

Daniel's brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but he simply nodded in understanding as Martin hurried off to fulfill his obligations. 

Martin's cryptic reply intrigued Daniel, sparking his curiosity further. He decided not to dwell on it for too long. With a shrug, he turned his attention back to the lively atmosphere of the party, eager to enjoy the night ahead. As he mingled with his friends, his thoughts occasionally drifted back to Martin's enigmatic words, wondering who exactly the DJ was referring to and what significance they held. But for now, he was content to simply soak in the excitement of the moment and let the night unfold as it may.

As Daniel's gaze lazily scanned the room, it landed on a group of vibrant individuals, among whom stood a figure that instantly commanded his attention. His eyes locked onto hers, and he felt a jolt of electricity course through him as their gazes met. In that fleeting moment, the noise of the party faded into the background, and all he could focus on was the captivating presence of the woman before him. Despite the nagging reminder of his supposed obligation to meet someone else, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her, his curiosity piqued and his interest unmistakably piqued.

Throughout the night, I found myself engaged in conversation with Selena and both of our friend groups, along with a few others who had approached us. However, the initial excitement I had felt was beginning to wane as my social battery ran low. I forced laughter and plastered on fake smiles as the people around us tried to create conversation, drawn to us for our status and connections rather than genuine friendship. My walls were up and I couldn’t help but be filled with nostalgia for the days when I effortlessly navigated the social whirlwind. God knows how I was able to endure all that, but now, that shiny façade of fame no longer held the appeal it once had. My eyes kept shifting around the multitude, trying to find an escape in the midst of the bustling party. Martin had to leave us after a while to greet other people that I’m sure he also invited. And now he was on the stage making sure everything was ready for the show, so that ruled him out of the equation. 

I found myself wishing I could channel Fio's bold attitude, and just tell all these phonies to go pal’ carajo. She had this undeniable strength and fearlessness about her that I envied. I couldn't imagine myself possessing even a fraction of her confidence. Yet, all of these thoughts melted away when my gaze landed on his face across the rooftop.

In that moment, it felt as though the chaos around me dissipated, leaving only him in sharp focus. Our eyes met, and a smile graced his lips, instantly captivating me. There was something magnetic about him, an inexplicable allure that drew me in without a word spoken.

His smile held a warmth that felt achingly familiar, as if we shared some unspoken connection that transcended the bounds of time and place. With each passing moment, his gaze seemed to deepen, as though delving into the depths of my soul with a silent question: “Have we met before?” It was a question that echoed in the recesses of my mind, sparking a curiosity that I couldn't shake.

As I stood there, locked in this wordless exchange, I couldn't help but wonder about the secrets hidden behind those piercing eyes. Despite the throng of people around us, it felt as though we were the only two souls in the room, bound together by an invisible thread of fate.

Suddenly, his silhouette cut through the crowd, moving with purpose and determination. With each step he took, my heart quickened its pace, anticipation rising in tandem with the rhythm of my pulse. The air crackled with a silent energy and I found myself holding my breath caught in the gravity of his presence. The distance between us narrowed, until finally, he stood before me, his eyes locking onto mine with a magnetic intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

As he extended his hand towards me, a rush of warmth flooded through me, tingling at the touch of his skin against mine. “Hey,” he said, his voice smooth and resonant, sending a ripple of anticipation coursing through me. “I'm Daniel.” His name rolled off his tongue with a certain charm and a twinge of an accent, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to him even more. 

“Hi” I managed to say, attempting to regain my composure. “I'm Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue with a hint of curiosity. “Lovely name for a lovely lady.”

I could feel my cheeks flush at his compliment. “Thanks,” I replied, trying to play it cool. The spell broke for a moment as he suddenly realized that there was a group of people staring at him, his own cheeks seemed to redden for a second but he recovered fast and greeted them with a radiant smile. I couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with such effortless charm. The realization sinked in that this wasn't just any charming stranger – holy shit, this was Daniel Ricciardo, the Formula 1 driver. 

A playful glint danced in his eyes as his eyes drifted back to me, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His easy charm catched me off guard, and I found myself blushing involuntarily. I stole a quick glance at my friends, who shot me knowing looks, clearly amused by my reaction. It's as if they could read my mind, teasing me silently. 

Okay Y/N, keep your cool. He is just a dude, I thought as I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. He is a gorgeous, smoking hot dude with a megawatt smile who smells wonderful. ¡Agh, mierda!. 

Yeah, I was fucked. I guessed it was time to put those acting skills to use.

“So, Daniel, what brings you to this fabulous party?” I tilted my head as I asked, I prayed it came out in a flirty but nonchalant way and not in a way that revealed the nervous flutter in my stomach. Daniel grinned, his gaze lingered on me. “Well, a friend insisted that I come, said it was going to be the party of the year. And, I must say, meeting someone as captivating as you was an unexpected bonus.”

A light blush spreaded across my cheeks at his words, and I glanced away momentarily, trying to regain my composure. “Flattery will get you everywhere, won't it?”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I certainly hope so.”

I chuckled, trying to play it cool. “Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Challenge accepted,” he replied, leaning in closer. With a playful smirk, he asked, “But first, would you like to grab a drink?”

The playful exchange between us continued as we made our way towards the bar, the atmosphere around us seemingly faded into the background as we became engrossed in each other's company.

Our playful banter flowed effortlessly, each quip and witty remark met with a matching response from the other. It's like we were in our own little world, oblivious to the party swirling around us as we exchanged jokes and anecdotes. There's something about him that feels like coming home, yet I know we've never crossed paths before. His genuine smile and easygoing demeanor put me at ease, and I found myself opening up to him more than I had in a long time. 

We both paused to stare at the DJ in his element, the corners of my mouth turned up when the Dutchy’s words ringed in my head: I almost missed this by being a grumpy old lady. I glanced over to find him already fixated on me, he smiled at me softly and a soft flutter danced in the pit of my stomach as I caught his eyes lingering on my lips. Was it just my imagination, or did the air around us suddenly crackle with an electric charge?

I tried to keep my tone light, “So, what's been the highlight of your evening so far?”

“If you’d asked me this about two hours ago I’d say the good vibes and great company,” he replied smoothly, his gaze never leaving mine. “But now that I've found you, I think I've found the best part of the evening.”

“Oh, stop it,” I chuckled, feeling my cheeks warm further.

“I mean it,” he insisted, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. “You've got this magnetic energy about you. I couldn't resist coming over to say hi.”

I felt a flutter in my stomach at his words. “Well, I'm glad you did,” I replied, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “It's nice to meet someone genuine at a party like this.”

Daniel grinned, leaning in a little closer. “Tell me about it. Most people here seem more interested in flashing cameras and rubbing elbows with celebrities than having a real conversation.”

I nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of relief wash over me that he felt the same way. “Exactly. It's refreshing to find someone who values authenticity.”

His smile widened. “Well, authenticity is my middle name,” he quipped, earning a laugh from me.

“Is it really?” I teased back, raising an eyebrow playfully.

He chuckled softly. “Not quite, but close enough,” he replied. The sound of his laughter was like music to my ears, washing over me in gentle waves. I couldn't help but smile in return, feeling a warmth spread through me at the sight of his genuine amusement. There was something so effortlessly charming about him, something that made it impossible not to be drawn to him.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Martin, from his place behind his console, grabbed the microphone, sending a burst of excitement through the crowd. The music softened, and all eyes turned towards him, eager to hear what he had to say. With a smile, he leaned into the mic.

“Alright, everyone! Get ready, because we're about to kick off the countdown to the new year!” his voice boomed over the speakers, igniting cheers and applause.

Daniel and I exchanged surprised glances, realizing how swiftly time had slipped away during our conversation. A sheepish grin spread across our faces as we chuckled at the realization.

“Wow, can you believe it?” Daniel exclaimed, his eyes wide with amazement.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I replied, “I know, right? It feels like we just got here!”

But despite our astonishment, there was an undeniable excitement in the air as we eagerly awaited the start of the countdown. Time may have slipped away unnoticed, but we were more than ready to welcome the new year with open arms.

With the pulsating energy of the crowd and the anticipation building up, Martin's announcement seemed to mark a pivotal moment in the night. It was as if time paused for just a brief moment, allowing us to reflect on the year gone by and the possibilities that lay ahead.

As the countdown began, the atmosphere on the terrace grew electric. Each second ticking by felt charged with anticipation, drawing us closer to the threshold of a new beginning. Daniel and I joined in with the crowd, counting down in unison as the numbers on the screen dwindled.

“Ten!... Nine!... Eight!” The voices around us echoed, filling the place with excitement and joy.

As the final seconds ticked away before the stroke of midnight, I stole a moment to scan the crowd, searching for familiar faces amidst the sea of revelers. My gaze locked onto Fio, Vitto, and Danna, who were huddled together nearby. Fio, ever perceptive, caught my gaze first. With a playful nudge to Vitto and Danna, she directed their attention towards me, and they turned in unison, their eyes met mine with knowing looks and a mischievous grin spread across their faces.

With playful antics, they puckered their lips in exaggerated kissy faces, teasing me in a lighthearted manner. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at their antics, a light blush tinting my cheeks in response to their jovial teasing.

Amidst the playful exchange, a fleeting thought crossed my mind. I wondered, for just a moment, if perhaps Daniel, standing closer than before, was considering the same playful gesture. But before I could dwell on the thought, the clock struck midnight, and the room erupted into cheers and celebration.

As the cheers filled the air, Daniel and I turned to each other with shy smiles, caught up in the infectious excitement of the moment. “Happy New Year,” we said simultaneously, our voices barely audible above the din of the crowd.

For a brief moment, there was a subtle shift in the air, a silent pause that seemed to linger between us. In that fleeting instant, it felt as if time slowed down, and I found myself meeting Daniel's gaze, our eyes locking in a silent exchange filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

There was a palpable tension, a delicate balance hanging in the air, as if both of us were teetering on the edge of something unspoken. In that moment, it seemed as though Daniel might lean in, his movements tentative and hesitant, as if contemplating a gesture that could change everything.

Was he gonna kiss me? Oh, I wouldn’t be mad if he stole a kiss. 

Or several.

But then, just as quickly as the moment had arisen, it passed. With a soft smile and a gentle nod, Daniel seemed to reconsider, pulling back slightly as if to preserve the moment's delicate equilibrium. And in that simple gesture, the unspoken understanding between us remained.

As the moment hung in the air between Daniel and me, on the brink of something uncertain, the sounds of joyous screams suddenly pierced through the atmosphere, drawing our attention away.

Before I could fully process what was happening, I felt warm arms wrap around me, pulling me into an exuberant embrace. It was the girls, Fio, Vitto, and Danna, their laughter mingling with the cheers of the crowd as they enveloped me in their enthusiastic greeting.

"Happy New Year!" they exclaimed in unison, their voices filled with genuine warmth and excitement.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the timing of their arrival, grateful for the distraction from the almost-kiss tension that had begun to linger between Daniel and me. With their infectious energy and playful banter, they effortlessly diffused the slight awkwardness that had threatened to overshadow the moment.

As we exchanged hugs and well wishes, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for their timely intervention. In their presence, the lingering tension dissipated, replaced by a sense of sisterhood and shared joy.

And as we laughed and celebrated together, I couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps some moments were meant to be savored, not rushed. Whatever the future held for Daniel and me, I knew that in that moment, I was exactly where I was meant to be.

With infectious enthusiasm, the girls dragged me towards the terrace railings, eager to get a better view of the fireworks illuminating the night sky. Laughing and chatting animatedly, we leaned against the railing, our eyes fixed on the colorful explosions lighting up the darkness.

As we marveled at the spectacle unfolding before us, Daniel excused himself with a smile, promising to join us in just a moment. I watched him disappear into the crowd, his easy charm drawing smiles and greetings from everyone he came across.

Alone for a brief moment amidst the excitement of the celebration, I took a deep breath, allowing myself to soak in the energy of the night. The air was alive with anticipation, the promise of new beginnings hanging in the air like a tangible presence.

And as the fireworks continued to paint the sky with bursts of color and light, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the moments shared with friends, old and new. In that fleeting moment of tranquility, amidst the chaos of the celebration, I found solace in the knowledge that no matter where life took us, our bonds would always endure, guiding us through the highs and lows of the journey ahead. I felt grateful to call these incredible women my friends. And as the last remnants of the fireworks faded into the night, I turned to raise my glass in a toast with the girls following, my heart full with the promise of the new year ahead.

Just as I turned back to try and catch a glimpse of a certain Aussie in the crowd, Daniel appeared at my side with a warm smile. His eyes sparkled with the residual excitement of the celebration, and his easygoing demeanor put me at ease.

“Hey there,” he greeted me, his voice carrying over the lingering echoes of the fireworks. “Did you enjoy the show?”

I returned his smile with a nod, the exhilaration of the moment still coursing through my veins. “It was amazing,” I replied, my voice filled with genuine awe. “I can't believe how quickly the year flew by.”

Daniel chuckled softly, his gaze drifting towards the horizon where the last traces of the fireworks faded into the darkness. “Yeah, 2019 feels like it was yesterday,” he quipped, a playful twist to his words.

I couldn't help but laugh at his silly joke, shaking my head in amusement. Despite its simplicity, his humor didn’t fail to bring a smile to my face. And as my laughter echoed into the night, I noticed Daniel's own smile widening, his eyes alight with infectious joy.

As my laughter subsided, Daniel's eyes softened, his gaze lingering on me with a warmth that sent a flutter through my chest. In the soft glow of the terrace lights, his features seemed to soften, his smile taking on a tender quality.

“You know,” he began, his voice gentle, “you look absolutely beautiful under the firework lights.”

A blush rose to my cheeks at his words, a rush of warmth spreading through me at the unexpected compliment. It was a simple gesture, but it carried a weight of sincerity that touched me deeply.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, but filled with genuine appreciation.

Daniel's gaze held mine for a moment longer, his expression softening even further as he had the purest beam of light on his face that made my heart melt.  “Actually,” he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “you outshine even the fireworks themselves.”

A surprised chuckle escaped my lips, and I could feel my cheeks flush with a warmth that spread from his endearing words. His unexpected compliment caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless.

It was such a simple yet profoundly sweet sentiment, and it took me by surprise in the best possible way.

As Daniel's sweet words lingered in the air, a comfortable silence settled between us, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the continuing celebration. It was a couple minutes after midnight, and there were already a couple resolutions broken.

I couldn't help but chuckle softly at the thought, the warmth of Daniel's presence enveloping me like a comforting embrace. Despite the inevitable imperfections of the past year, there was a sense of hope and possibility lingering in the air for this new one, a reminder that every moment held the potential for growth and renewal.

We continued to chat and laugh as we made our way to one of the high tables to continue our conversation in a more comfortable setting. Martin even made an appearance, greeting us with his usual kind and friendly attitude. A shit-eating grin adorned his face as he saw us talking. He inconspicuously winked at me which prompted me to affectionately roll my eyes. 

Okay Martin, I get it, you were right...again. 

But one curious thing happened when Martin approached. I noticed a flicker of apology in Daniel's eyes, a subtle shift in his demeanor that caught my attention. Confused, I glanced at him, wondering what had prompted this sudden change. It wasn't until much later that I would come to understand the reason behind his apologetic expression.

Unbeknownst to me, Daniel had misunderstood Martin's intentions, believing that the girl he had spoken to him about was someone else entirely. In his mind, there was no connection between Martin's matchmaking scheme and the girl he had been conversing with all along—me.

And so, we were unaware of the intricate web of plans and schemes being woven around us. Little did I know, the seeds of something special had already been planted, waiting to bloom and blossom in the days and weeks to come.

A while later, one of the waiters passed by, weaving through the crowd. Seizing the opportunity, Daniel called out to him, “Excuse me, do you have a pen?”

The waiter nodded and swiftly produced one, handing it over with a friendly smile. Once he left, Daniel grabbed a napkin from the table and quickly sketched out a tic-tac-toe grid with the pen. With a mischievous grin, he declared, “Let's make a deal. If I win, you have to give me your number.”

I couldn't help but laugh at his spontaneous challenge, the playful glint in his eyes infectious. “Alright, you're on,” I replied, picking up the pen to make my first move. 

“But,” I paused with a smirk. I raised an eyebrow at Daniel, unable to suppress a playful grin. “What do I get if I win?” I challenged him, my tone teasing and light. 

Daniel's lips curled into a flirtatious smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well,” he replied, leaning in closer with a playful glint in his eyes, “if you win, you get my number instead.”

His response elicited another laugh from me, the playful banter adding to the already vibrant energy between us. With a nod of agreement, I made my move, determined to give him a run for his money.

However, despite my best efforts, Daniel proved to be a formidable opponent—athletes do tend to have another level of competitiveness after all, even with the smallest and silliest things—, and before I knew it, he had emerged victorious, marking the final square with a triumphant flourish.

With a mock sigh of defeat, I conceded, acknowledging his win with good humor. “Alright, you got me,” I chuckled, conceding to his victory. “Looks like I owe you my number.”

With a pleased smile he passed me his phone. As I began typing my number into Daniel's phone, focused on the task at hand, I felt a sudden movement beside me. Glancing up, I saw Daniel grab another napkin, his expression mischievous as he quickly scribbled something onto it. 

Curious, I watched as he slid the napkin across the table towards me. My eyes widened in surprise as I read the words written in his handwriting: “You are cute.”

A warmth spread through me at his unexpected gesture, a rush of flattered excitement tingling in my veins. With a playful smile, I looked up to meet his gaze, my heart fluttering with anticipation.

“Smooth move,” I teased, unable to hide the smile that danced on my lips. “But I think you've already won me over with your charm.”

As I finished adding my number to his phone, I slid it back across the table towards him. With a grin, Daniel accepted his phone back, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction at my response. “Can't blame a bloke for trying,” he quipped, his tone light and playful. 

The playful energy between us only seemed to intensify and I found myself drawn further into the magnetic pull of Daniel's presence, captivated by his whiskey-colored eyes that held a depth that seemed to unravel the secrets of the universe. And when he spoke, his Australian accent danced with a melodic cadence that resonated deep within my soul, infusing every word with a warmth and charm that was impossible to resist.

But it wasn't just his accent that captivated me—it was his carefree personality, his easygoing demeanor that made every moment feel effortless and free. He laughed with abandon, his infectious joy spreading like wildfire and igniting a spark of laughter within me.

And then there were his hands, expressive and animated as he spoke, each gesture painting a vivid picture of his thoughts and emotions. It was as if his hands had a language of their own, weaving tales of adventures that left me hanging on his every word.

Just as the party was reaching its peak and the energy in the room soared, one of the girls came up to me with a sense of urgency in her expression. “Hey babes, we need to head out already,” she informed me, a hint of regret in her voice.

My heart sank at the sudden announcement, realizing the abrupt end to the evening's festivities. With a mixture of disappointment and resignation, I turned to Daniel, silently conveying my apologies with a glance.

“I'm sorry, but Vitto's had a bit too much to drink,” Danna explained, her tone apologetic as she gestured towards our intoxicated companion. “We need to get her home.”

There was a flicker of disappointment in Daniel's eyes, mirrored by my own sense of frustration at the untimely interruption.

With a sympathetic smile, Daniel nodded in understanding, his expression reflecting a mixture of disappointment and acceptance. “Of course, safety first,” he replied, his voice filled with empathy. “Take care, and hopefully, we'll see each other again soon.”

As I exchanged final farewells with Daniel, a pang of regret lingered in the air, accompanied by the bittersweet realization that our time together had been cut short. Yet, amidst the disappointment, there was a glimmer of hope, a silent promise of future encounters.

With a nod of gratitude, I turned to join my friends. And as I reached the girls, I couldn't help but sigh softly, my concern for Vitto mixing with a hint of amusement. “Ay, Vitto,” I murmured, shaking my head in disbelief at how quickly she had managed to get drunk in just an hour.

Vitto, in her intoxicated state, offered a drunken apology and let out a soft laugh, her carefree demeanor infectious. “Sorry,” she slurred, her words accompanied by a playful giggle.

I couldn't help but smile at her antics, reassured by her good spirits despite the unexpected turn of events. “It's okay,” I assured her, placing an arm around her shoulder. “Let's get you home safely.”

As I turned to leave, I couldn't resist stealing a last glimpse back at Daniel. To my surprise, I found him still staring at me, his smile widening as he waved goodbye. A rush of warmth flooded through me at the sight.

On our way home, the girls couldn't resist teasing me about Daniel, joking about how we had spent the whole night together. Their playful banter only served to deepen my blush, fueling the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. The city lights blurred into a mosaic of colors outside the car window and the laughter of the girls faded into the background as I found myself lost in the memory of Daniel's captivating smile, the warmth of his gaze still lingering in the corners of my mind.

I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something truly special about that smile, something that lingered long after the party had ended and the night had grown quiet. To me, it wasn't just any smile—it was warm, genuine, and filled with an undeniable spark that seemed to reach straight into my soul. It was a smile that spoke volumes, conveying a sense of understanding, a twinge of mischief, and unspoken promise that left me breathless with anticipation.

With a soft sigh, I couldn't help but reflect on the serendipitous twist of fate that had brought us together tonight. In that brief moment of connection, amidst the music and laughter, I had felt a spark of something special—a connection that defied explanation and left me yearning for more.

And as I stared out into the night, the city lights twinkling like stars in the darkness, I knew that I would carry the memory of that encounter with me forever. In that moment, meeting him felt like a spell had been cast upon me, capturing my heart in an instant.

The thought made a soft smile tug at the corners of my lips, my heart fluttering with the anticipation of what the future might hold.

At the end of the night, all I knew was, 

Daniel, I was enchanted to meet you.