#deep sleep support formula

[wellsailor]

Revive Daily GH is marketed as a comprehensive sleep support supplement designed to help individuals achieve a more profound and rejuvenating sleep experience. The formula addresses common issues such as difficulty falling asleep, frequent wake-ups during the night, and a lack of overall sleep satisfaction.

[only-luce-the-goose]

The Prank

A/N: my first formula fic!! My requests are open if you have someone you want me to write for!

Arthur Leclerc x Norris Reader

Trope: Dumbasses (best friends to lovers)

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, nothing else really

This is based of something I was on Twitter (I refuse to call it X): person a says “I came up with a good prank”. Person b asks what it is, a says “we should kiss”. B says “I don’t get it”, a says “imagine them walking in to see us kissing and just being like “WHAAAAAT??” B says “oh, that’s hilarious. We totally should”

Synopsis: You and Arthur have been best friends since he saved you from a bully when you were kids. You grew up in the Leclerc household, so they knew you very well. You followed Arthur around the world for his racing career. You guys had been given the nickname "Terrible Two's" for all the pranks you pulled around the paddock. Sometimes you pulled them on each other, sometimes you teamed up and pulled pranks together but there was one prank that really topped off the rest of your pranks.

"Y/N!!!" Arthur shouted from the shower in your shared bedroom. He walked out as you hit record on your phone, filming as he appeared. He had his towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist, his hair was dyed a deep red with remnants of the dye dripping down his chest. "Seriously?" he scolded "I have to go to the Ferrari pit tomorrow and my hair is bright red!" You could see the fury in his eyes as you laughed. "Yeahhhh, you're gonna be matching the cars". He crossed his arms over his muscly chest and scowled "Stop filming me, idiot" you rolled your eyes and chucked "Whatever, moron" you said as you stopped recording. You posted it to your story, with the caption "Ready for @ scuderiaferrari tomorrow!" and tagged him in it.

You heard Arthur's phone buzz from the vanity in the bathroom as he headed back in to dry off. You stood up to pack up a bit from your day, getting as ready as you can for tomorrow. This time he came out in a pair of checkered sleep pants, saw you stand up in front of your suitcase and lunged at you, tackling you into the bed. You shrieked as he started assaulting (tickling) you. "St-st-op Art- arty" giggled out. "You turned me red, then posted it for the whole fucking world to see. You deserve this" After successfully kicking him onto the floor, you noticed your phone vibrating in your pocket.

You swiped accept on the call as you answered "Ah, my favourite Leclerc brother. What can I do for you Charlie?" You heard Arthur shout and "Oi" from the floor, making Charles laugh. "I just needed to see Arthur's hair" he grinned. You flipped the camera around and showed a Shirtless, red-haired Arthur lying on his back on the ground. Charles burst out laughing "good to see the support, brother" he got out in between laughter. "I'll leave you to whatever you're doing, y/n. Thank you so much for Arthur's hair" he chuckled as you said goodbye and he hung up. You leaned over the side of the bed, making eye contact with the boy on the floor "wanna get Charles tomorrow?" you asked him. "The day I say no is the day the world ends" he replies. You laughed as you rolled under your covers, Arthur standing up and getting into the bed next to yours, agreeing to come up with the prank tomorrow.

I was lying awake in bed, I couldn’t sleep. All I could think about was how Arthur came out of the shower earlier, his glorious torso on display, towel so low you could see his v-line. All I wanted to do was go over and kiss him silly, he’s so hot when he’s cranky. My crush on his has lasted years and he has no idea. I couldn’t ever tell him, it would ruin our friendship and I don’t ever want to lose him. If we’re friends forever then so be it. I put my earbuds in and put on a good playlist, drifting off to my favourite song.

I woke up the next morning with a crushing weight on my chest and hair tickling my nose. It wasn’t until I felt the fingers tickling my ribs thats I started wriggling around, trying to get the giant on my body. “Arty what the fuck” I grumbled “I was having a really good sleep you prick”. He chuckled and rolled off me, lying next to me a pulling me body into his. I looked up, nearly bumping his nose with mine. I was really hoping he couldn’t feel how fast my heart was beating. “We have a prank to plan���

After you finished getting ready, you hopping in the car with Arthur and headed towards the paddock, brainstorming pranks in the car. “I came up with a brilliant one” Arthur tells you. “Ooo what is it?” My curiosity peaked. We haven’t been able to think of any good ones for Charles all morning. “We should kiss” he said nonchalantly. If I had a drink I would have choked on it, instead I stuck to internally freaking out while my heart started beating out of my chest. “Umm what? I don’t get it. How is that a good prank?” I stutter.

Arthur laughs “just think about it. He walks into his drivers room to find his younger brother and childhood best friend making out, our hands all over each other. You could sit on my lap and we could really go to town, Charles would walk in and freak out. He might even faint!” It hurt a little to think that Arthur only wanted to kiss me for a pranks, but there ain’t no way I’m passing up and opportunity to kiss my crush, even if it isn’t supposed to mean anything.

“Ohhh I get it, that’s would be fucking hilarious. We just have to time it really well and make sure no one sees us go in there” I add on. Arthur agrees “that’s it then, the perfect prank” I chuckle at his declaration. We pull up the paddock, scan our passes and make our way in, making small talk with people but never straying too far from each other.

We saw Charles doing some media before he needed to go in and change into his fireproofs and race suits. I tapped on Arthur’s and should and pointed at his brother, explaining my thinking. I agreed and we rushed inside the Ferrari garage, making our way to the drivers room. I hung around the front of it, keeping an eye out Charles so we could start making out at the perfect time.

A huge group of people made their way, signalling that Charles was moving closer. You could hear him and Carlos talking about the track as they came closer. I quickly slipped into his drivers room, finding Arthur already sitting on the bench. I walked over to him as he patted his lap, “hang on” I semi whispered. I could hear that Charles and Carlos had stopped walking, they couldn’t have been too far from the doors. Once I could hear Charles getting louder I looked back at Arthur, “you ready Arty?” I asked. He nodded and pulled me into his lap.

I moved me knees to go on their side of this body, my right hand slide to the back of neck, sliding my hand though his hair and I grabbed a handful of his fluffy hair. My left hand sling around his broad shoulders. His left hand dipped under my shirt to hold my waist, his other hand wound around my neck. He offered me a kind smile as he used the hand around my back to guide me towards his lips.

It started with small pecks, quickly moving to Arthur slipping his tongue into my mouth, exploring while he got the opportunity. Moved myself closer to him, gripping his hair harder which caused him to let out a low moan. I heard the door to the driver room open as I kept making out with my best friend. The hand around my neck moved to ass, moving me to grind on him a bit.

Charles and Carlos stood in the doorway, dumbfounded before Carlos turned to Charles and said “told you they had a thing for each other, cabrõn” and walked off. Charles stared at his friend as he walked off. He looked back at us, still making out as he walked in. He slammed the door shut, making us jump. “What the fuck is going on? Why are you making out? Why are you doing it in my drive room? Oh my god I need to sit down” he rambled.

I got off Arthur as we started cackling, Arthur turned to me and said “told you it was a good prank, he’s absolutely freaking out” I laughed and looked back at Charles. He looked at us like we just old him Santa wasn’t real. “Wait, this is a prank?” He asked as we nodded “I thought I wouldn’t have to listen to Arthur whine about you anymore y/n but this is going to make it so much worse” I was about to ask something when Arthur grabbed my arm and dragged me out.

Once we got outside the garage I stopped Arthur. “Hang on, Arty. Just stop for a second” he stared at the floor. “What did Charles mean when he said you were whining about me?” I asked him. He tried to deflect the question and walk off. I grabbed his hand, turning him to me and lifting his head the make eye contact with me, asking my question again.

Arthur sighed, putting his hands on either side of my face and kissed me. It wasn’t desperate like the previous make out. It was slow and loving. “I don’t really know to say this, now that Charles has outed me, but I’ve liked you for years. The more than best friends kinda like. The reason I came up with that kissing prank was to get the chance to kiss you, even if it is supposed to be to mean nothing.”

Arthur kept rambling, struggling make eye contact. He looked at him, then smashed your lips into his “I like you more than I best friend should too. I have for years” you smile against Arthur’s lips as he kissed you.

[kissedsuns]

chasing cars.

cw: angst, mentions of logan sargeant being dropped, established rel w/ oscar piastri & more

this wasn't how things were supposed to go—not for you, anyway.

your first win was meant to be sensational, a moment of pure euphoria. the kind where you leap out of your car, proud, standing on top of the cockpit with your fist raised high, showing the world and your team what you'd accomplished. it should've felt like you were on top of the world.

but it didn't. not for you, anyway.

a few nights before, you were cozied up in bed, lazily reaching for your phone on the bedside table. the screen lit up, and you squinted, shielding your eyes from the sudden glare. you opened instagram, expecting to see plenty of media about the upcoming race in monza—a track you'd been looking forward to racing at for awhile.

it was also a track your close friend, logan, was excited about. you and he practically grew up together, alongside oscar, who you shared an even closer bond with—so close that you found yourself sleeping in one of his baggy tees.

but that morning, your feed showed something you weren't exactly expected: an image on formula 1's instagram page, boldly announcing that logan sargeant would be dropped from williams midway through the season.

your jaw literally dropped as you stared at the post—a sad picture of logan at the center, remaining on your screen for what felt like an eternity.

you didn't know what to do. should you message him? call him? but then you wondered, why hadn't he called you?

logan told you everything, no matter how gross or disturbing. so why not this?

taking a deep breath, you decided to message him, sending a simple greeting before jumping straight into it, asking if he was okay and what was going on.

to which you received no response.

you felt sick to your stomach for the rest of the morning. and when you finally arrived at the paddock in monza later that week, it became increasingly harder to shake the discomfort.

logan hadn't spoken to you in days, and though it hurt, you understood. why would he want to talk to anyone after what happened?

he'd been axed halfway through the season, his dreams of becoming a successful formula 1 driver were pretty much over. meanwhile, here you were, thriving in a team that adored you.

mercedes was a great environment, and the support from your teammate, george russell, only made it better. but that heavy, guilty feeling gnawed at you. you felt so guilty you were almost choking on it.

as you navigated through the crowd of journalists, eager to get something out of you, you were determined to give them nothing. you had nothing to give, anyway.

you felt far too alone in the paddock, and despite george's reassuring pat on your shoulder when you arrived at the team hub, it wasn't enough.

you couldn't focus during the drivers' briefing or even pay attention to what toto was explaining to you and george—something about strategies, but you didn't hear a word.

despite achieving strong results in practice and securing p2 in qualifying, race day—a day you'd usually be excited for—was now something you just wanted to get through as quickly as possible.

a few comments were made when you arrived that day. your forced smile made it obvious that you weren't taking the news quite well.

it wasn't as if logan had died or couldn't visit the paddock to support you as a friend. but it had just become a habit to have him around.

the driver's parade usually had the two of you laughing at some of the fans in the crowd or chatting about what you did over the week. oscar, usually with lando on the other side of the truck, would eventually join you both, which you loved.

after the race, you'd often drag logan over to parc fermé, giving him a big hug and congratulating him on his effort, even if he wasn't thrilled with his performance. you'd always try to bring a smile to his face, seeing those eyes that once sparkled with pride.

but that sparkle was gone now.

as you reluctantly climbed onto the driver's truck, you stood with your back to the railing, leaning against it as you found yourself staring blankly into the crowds.

no chatter, no smiles—nothing. and everyone noticed.

a few drivers glanced your way with concern written all over their faces, which only made oscar rush over to you. "it's really hard seeing you like this," he began.

"i don't know what you're on about." you tried to brush him off.

"i know you," he said, doing something that managed to bring a tiny bit of comfort. "you don't have to pretend like you're holding up okay, because i know you're not."

oscar's words should've been enough to make you feel less isolated. that undeniable charm of his could usually turn your frown upside down. but with your best friend of seven years stripped from formula 1 and the potential of racing alongside him again gone, you couldn't find it in you to smile.

you avoided conversation for the rest of the day, your mind fixated on just getting through it so you could check your phone—hoping, maybe, logan had messaged you back. maybe even wished you good luck for the race.

settling into the seat of your car, helmet snug on your head, you waited for the race to start.

as the track cleared and the lights went out, your mind drifted back to the one thing that wouldn't leave your thoughts no matter how hard you tried to shove it away.

logan sargeant. best friend. dedicated racer. boy with a dream. hilarious. american. embarrassed. struggling. logan sargeant.

you slammed your foot on the pedal, pushing your car to its limits. the engine roared, tires screeched, and the sound of the crowd erupting in cheers as you passed max verstappen filled your ears.

but you didn't smile. you didn't even grin. you sobbed.

you sobbed because there was a boy back home in america who would never get to hear those cheers for him.

a tear slid down your cheek as you flew down the track, just wanting to see that checkered flag wave so you could go home. go home and bury your face in your pillow and cry even harder.

and that was it. the finale.

your race engineer nearly deafened you with his shouts about your win—your second career victory. but you didn't care.

"thanks, guys. great job. uh, the car was awesome! thanks so much. thanks," you tried to sound convincing as you waved to the fans in the grandstands.

at the parc fermé, where you would usually share a moment with logan, you stood alone, holding your helmet as your eyes scanned the area as if expecting to see your friend.

lando smiled and patted your back, while max gave you a firm handshake. it felt good, and you were proud of how much effort the team put in to ensure that this would happen, but in truth, you didn't care much for the trophy that awaited you.

oscar eventually came up to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist in a hug. he congratulated you, planting a kiss on your cheek that brought a faint smile to your lips.

you could tell that, despite oscar's calm attitude, he felt terrible for logan too. he was just better at hiding it. his tight-lipped smile and sad eyes slightly gave it away, unfortunately.

your team pulled you into a tight hug, some toppling over others as they fought to congratulate you.

this wasn't how you were supposed to feel after winning your second race in your formula 1 career. this was supposed to be special. you should've been hugging oscar and giving logan a huge cheer.

when the post-race interviews commenced, you stood by your stand, a blank expression on your face as you stared at the floor, utterly bored.

you gave short answers to the reporter, hoping he'd hurry up and let you go. the way he grimaced at your tone and choice of words showed he knew you weren't feeling it, and he eventually took the hint.

you felt bad for letting your miserable attitude affect others. the drivers' room was no different, with lando and max talking about the race and making funny noises at the screen if there was a collision.

you sat there, staring at the first-place cap in your hands. bored. you were bored.

max and lando exchanged a look before glancing at you with softened expressions. they didn't know logan well; hardly anyone on the grid did. they couldn't understand the disappointment you felt knowing you would never be able to celebrate with your best mate ever again.

finally, the podium celebration—a time to get drenched in champagne and hear your national anthem play as you proudly stand on the top step with a wide smile, watching your team gaze up at you with admiration.

but when it was time to step on that podium, the crowd cheered, the anthem played, and you smiled. but there was no logan sargeant in the crowd, beaming up at you with his own fist raised, as if to say, "i'll be up there with you soon. just wait."

the champagne was popped, and before you could process it, lando tipped the rest of his bottle onto your head.

you cringed at the cold liquid streaming down your neck and seeping into your race suit. the taste of victory should've been sweet. it should've felt amazing.

but without your best friend, could it ever feel that way?

as you left the paddock, oscar's fingers intertwined with yours, trophy in the other hand, you pulled out your phone.

your breath hitched as you saw the notification—logan sargeant.

without a second thought, you opened the message.

the screen revealed just six words, and they were enough to shatter you entirely.

"i knew you could do it."

© kissedsuns

[bunnis-monsters]

Hello!

I really love your writing and the way that you portray the reader 💕✨

I just wanted to drop this doggy bag of ideas at your door and you can do with them what you will!!

Warnings: MDNI, fem!reader, slight colorful language, most of it is suggestive, the last one is more explicit

\(^•^)/

My favorite/comfort vibe: the character genuinely loves the reader and doesn’t make “I hate being married” jokes, the Gomez Addams type of guy. Always supportive and never disrespectful. More loyal than a dog. Literally being rude or hurtful is not even in their operating system. Pure embodiment of gentle chivalry. Maximum dose of respect human beings and living creatures juice every morning. I literally can not get enough of this trope

It’s the old west and that rancher with a spotted tail and a large set of horns sticking out of his head is looking mighty fine as he wipes his freckled chest and neck with his patterned bandanna. You, a sweet young lady who is just passing through the town, offers him some water to drink. He accepts it with gratitude and chugs it down. You try not to stare at the lump moving in his throat, or the stray drop of water that you feel jealous of, it getting the chance to caress his skin instead of you. You try to play coy, but he takes his deep breaths into his large muscular barreled chest, he smells your sweetness and can look down and notice your legs shuffling closely together, your cheeks looking a little more flushed. He wonders if your other cheeks could flush the same way. His patterned ears flick and he tries not to get too excited as his tail swishes back and forth. He gives you back your canteen and offers you a ride to your temporary lodgings. Maybe he can convince to stay indefinitely, maybe he can convince you to do it by his side. <3

The og type vampire! Dracula but a himbo/science genius that studies you to learn about humans. He made a special trip to the village to buy more candelabras for you to move around and 3 more long flowy dramatic gowns that accentuate your curves and allow the moonlight to caress your soft skin just as he wishes to caress you. He leaves your favorite snack lying fresh for you in odd places, he seems to think this is all you need to live in way of nutrition, I mean, he only consumes one thing right? He assumes it’s the same for his little human. Cue hijinks of her escaping to the village to eat and teach the vampire how to take care of humans, and her learning about his vampire ways and his fancy new witchcraft (which is just sciencey things). He loves garlic but is severely allergic to it. Literally has been looking for a formula to cure it for like so long, it’s basically the only reason he got interested in science. He mumbles about cheesy garlic bread when he is in one of his rare sleeps.

The protective punk/gang leader pixie! with nasty ass styled jet black hair (and a hauntingly beautiful shimmer to it) protectively grabbing his girl by the waist, pulling you close as an “accidental” foul baseball narrowly misses your face. He glared back at the team who had just realized that they chose the wrong person to pick on, their smirks sliding off their faces. He does enjoy a good game! He likes to use his baseball bat (decorated with dragonflys that you made to match his wings) for more…unsavory things. He’ll be stopping by the afterschool meet to teach them how one could really use a bat, with them as the kind, totally willing volunteers :) He comes home to you with strange stains on his white tank top, you try not to stare too long at his slender and molded waist, perfectly framed by his high waisted fitted denim jeans. He catches you looking though, and gives you a “c’mere baby doll and gimmie some sugar” an annoyingly smug smirk plastered across his horribly perfect face. You were already glued to him, cursing yourself for loving such an insufferably wonderful and rough and tough fool.

The succubus! Butler who literally never stops thinking about you. Who is with you from sun up to sun down to serve you and care for you in any capacity that your little heart desires. Literal doormat, might actually fantasize being a door mat for you tbh? Loves seeing you in elegant and lavish shoe wear, he hates dirt for existing and never wants your feet to touch an unclean floor. Would literally pass out if someone inconvenienced you. You just roll your eyes and smile. You pat the space between his horns, pulling him close to your chest and resting your head atop his, gently reminding him again that you live in a reasonably priced apartment in a reasonably priced area and you never asked for a butler or to be treated like royalty and that he can relax and just enjoy your company. (He literally just showed up one night and decided he wanted to be your butler). He won’t hear of it though, you are a goddess that must be attended to! Don’t take this from him, it makes him so happy to be of service! You begrudgingly allow him to spoil you once more. This time though, you manage to trick him (you didn’t, all you did was ask) into the bathtub with you where you press your bare chest flush against his back and softly scrub his chest with a softly scented product. You insist that this is his reward for being such a dutiful and kind partner, and he’s glad that the bubbles hide the situation happening between his legs. You’re just as happy to help him with that too, reaching around front and reminding him again how beautiful he is and how lucky you are to have him in his life and he literally went feral, water and bubbles coating the tiles as you two tangle around in the water. The next morning he bring you breakfast to eat on the balcony, he happily watches you eat your meal, happy to see you eating and getting full just as he did to you last night ;)

The Undead!Soldier that never wanted to be sent off to the war in the first place and constantly looks at the photo in the heart locket you gave him and wishing to come home safe to your arms. Wishing to free himself from endlessly reviving in different places where he becomes a part of an undead army, only to be defeated and re animated again, praying to one day respawn somewhere close to you, where you can be his light and save him from this dark and endless maze. When you finally manage to free him, you took him to the local necromancer to get put back together, you guys couldn’t find his ring finger so the necromancer threw one in for free. It had a cryptic and eerily familiar tattoo on it resembling a small yellow creature with blue overalls. A shiver went down your spine and you cringed, the two of you went to another necromancer the next day to get it replaced immediately.

The town crook, swiper no swiping type bitch. He has a large fluffy gray and black ringed tail and a cute matching set of ears. His jaw is sharp and his fingers are dexterous, he can never seem to keep them to himself. It’s hard to get something of yours back once he’s managed to sneak it away from you and into his stash. You’ve certainly been spending a lot of money and time buying new undergarments. One night, you catch him rummaging through your panty drawer. He stops like a deer in the headlights. No, not because you caught him, took you long enough anyways. No, it’s that nice little lingerie nightie that you’ve got on. Now just who did you wear that for? He’s no stranger to your clothing habits (him? A peeping Tom? Nooooo~) You surely must have worn it for him!! You’d never admit it but you did wear it in hopes of stalling him long enough to get a good look at your secret admirer. He blushes profusely as you stalk closer to him, studying the planes and details of his handsome face up close. His fingers twitch uncontrollably by his sides as he desperately fights to keep them off you without your say so. He can smell your sweet scent up this close and- what are you doing to him?! He’s about to make a mess in his pants and you haven’t even touched him yet! Your arms playfully clasped behind your back as you lean back and walk over to the bed, stopping before it. You slowly tease the panties down your plush thighs and flick it in his direction without looking, sliding your soft legs underneath the covers. “Come back soon lover boy” you wave him goodbye as he hops out of your balcony window into the night, a dainty pair of panties worn across his face. The next morning, you awoke to a collection of expensive jewelry and colorful stones mixed with various and obscure snacks, a ringed tail peeking out from atop your window/

the out of luck wolf!mutt street fighter with nothing to lose finding the girl of his dreams when he meets eyes with a widowed Governess. She never actually met her late husband but at the wedding, he promptly left to serve in a far off war and never returned. The Governess publicly shamed and pitied all the same in the eyes of the people. He didn’t care about any of that, he didn’t care about her status or that she was once married or that she probably wouldn’t even recognize who he was if she saw him again. He hasn’t seen her since he was just a scrawny runt, beaten and bruised just as he is today, but with the difference of being able to defend himself now. He remembers your sweet chubby cheeks and plush arms that always felt so safe to be in. You two were just children, him a dirty street urchin, and you, a daughter set to inherit a duchy upon marriage. You to had lost touch as you got busier with your studies and began to grow up. He had honestly let you fade from his mind as well over time. But he’ll never forget when he saw you again. Now fully grown with eyes so striking that you reminded him what life was supposed to feel like with a single spark. His barren and brush covered heart caught fire and the only thing that could quench it was getting a taste of you. He manages to find ways to insert himself into your life and get to know you again. You like to read? He never learned how but he’d be happy to try if you did it with him! Otherwise doesn’t see the point. Wants to impress you with his fighting skills and never understands why you get upset for his safety and getting roughed up. He came back alive right? What’s a few more scratches? (He also loves it when you play nurse on him, he loves being doted on). Nobody understands why the widowed Governess would hang out with a mutt like him, he’s quick to silence the rumors and hate, and you’re growing suspicious of how eagerly he allows you to bandage him. He clicks his teeth when he notices that you’re catching on. He needs to be careful, this is the only time he feel like he can get close to you and get a whiff of your scent. He always feels bad that he’s dirty and smells of the streets. Maybe with time, you can tempt this sweet stray into your safe and open arms, where you can help clean him up, and instead of a street fighter, he’s a dude in a nice suit that he has already managed to fuck up, fighting in the street with the bus boy he tripped into. You’re at the snack table minding your business and letting him get his energy out, getting ready for when you two have to release some different energy in the comfort of your shared home later that night.

The highelf!pervert!artist in his mansion with an garden containing an insurmountable amount of foliage and beautiful landscaping, eyeing his sweet plump little maid from afar, savoring the sight as he paints your soft figure onto the canvas. He hisses as his hand softly brushes up and down his member, the skin with a shimmery undertone and a flushed mushroom tip, long and monstrous. He stops and lets his poor leaking cock go again, it swings down and the weight of it almost seems to stall it from popping back up against his softly defined abdomen, some precum staining it sheen. He furiously paints you, his enhanced eyesight allowing for him to see across the courtyard, his studio conveniently being directly across the way from your room, when you lay on your back, your hand between your plush thighs, his sensitive ears picking up on your soft gasps and moans that occasionally sound like his name. It has to be his name right? Surely you must be doing this to him on purpose!! He finishes the last paint stroke that he needs to complete his first coat, he quickly moves his pillow to the window with a bench built in underneath it. He wastes no time bucking his hips in to its softness, imagining that it was you, he sees you struggle to get your release and he just can’t take it anymore. You’ve known each other for years, you were his favorite maid and the only one that he ever paid attention to. You sure took your sweet time getting comfortable with him, he’s positive that in the past few months, you’ve been deliberately teasing him and trying to get his attention. Surely that’s why you must be driving him insane like this?? Unbeknownst to him, you were just that fucking clueless, but don’t worry, he’s about to come and show you exactly how he’s feeling towards you! When he gets his hands on you, it’s game over for being apart from him. He’s always going to want his pretty little muse to be within his line of sight! How else is he going to paint that lovely portrait of you if you keep closing your legs? Here, he knows a few ways to help you relax!~

Sorry for the long ass ask, I just wanted to share some ideas with you since I’m too lazy to ever do anything with them. I hope you’re doing well and getting all the rest and hydration you need!

For now imma share these ideas with y’all and ask which one y’all like best!!

Comment below what you’d like to see me expand on :3

[disneyprincemuke]

never grow up * fem!driver

a collection of stories of when she first started out in the paddocks to the end of the season

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver

word count: 4.7k

notes: hey i started this last tuesday and jusT finished it because i had the longest week known to mankind LMFAO

(series masterlist)

pre-season testing, 2023

sebastian is almost knocked back at the sudden presence of another in what he assumed was going to be an empty garage.

test session wasn’t for another couple of hours. but there, at the far end of the garage’s exit towards the pit, sat the driver. she sits on the floor, slouched over as her legs are crossed over one another.

“you’re early!”

“i couldn’t sleep,” she answers almost immediately. she turns her head to get a glance at sebastian. she gives him a small smile before turning away again to face the empty pit and grandstands. “i figured i should just sit here and take it all in.”

he smiles, closing the door behind him. he manoeuvres in and stops right next to her. he puts his hands on his hips. “i know, right? i didn’t sleep well days leading up to my rookie year either.”

she turns her head and furrows her eyebrows. “i didn’t think someone like you got nervous.”

“oh, i was terrified,” he laughs, finally bending down and dropping himself on the concrete floor next to her. “but i can only imagine the nerves, especially in your circumstance.”

“yeah, a woman in formula 1.” when he turns to look at her, she’s fiddling around with her thumbs. “first of its kind in decades.”

she laughs dryly before leaning back, resting her hands against the gravel. years ago, following her friends into formula 3 seemed like the biggest feat. then eventually, prema took a chance on her and threw her into formula 2 with the big guys.

even then, racing on the track and sharing the paddocks with bigger names like max verstappen and fernando alonso, formula 1 still seemed so far away. with good reason too, considering that her promotion announcement had been torn apart and overanalysed by the media.

everything, from mid december to early february, everyone had been tearing her apart.

but sebastian has been watching her since she started racing in f3 in place of oscar, after moving up to f2. she’s a joy to watch on the track.

and while he’s put away his years of being a villain to the public eye, he lives to prove everyone wrong. his first year as a race engineer, and then to have a woman as his driver? he would love to see it.

he is confident in the way she holds herself behind the wheel of a race car. there’s no doubt she’s a world champion in the making.

“no,” sebastian wags a finger in the air, “you’re a driver in formula 1. everyone in this garage — in the factory — supports you. we wouldn’t have put everything in developing the car for you if we didn’t think you’d be out here wrecking everybody.”

she sighs with a shrug. “i guess.”

he pats her firmly on the shoulder. “i’ll be here every step of the way, kid.”

bahrain, 2023

sebastian feels a presence looming over him as he scans the car with the andretti's engineers. he turns around with an eyebrow raised, locking eyes with the younger girl staring up at him with wide innocent eyes and a hopeful grin. a small smile stretches on his face as he straightens his back. “hi!”

“hi.” she glances away momentarily and licks her lips. she meets his eyes again with a soft sigh and a slightly wider grin. she hums as she sways, fingertips tapping against one another. “i have an interview.”

he nods hesitantly, raising an eyebrow. “alright.”

“okay.”

sebastian watches her curiously, not moving away from her position in front of him. she hugs she can on pepsi against her stomach as her eyes dart all over the garage. “is everything okay?”

“of course!” she answers almost too fast. she perks up with a smile and curious eyes. “i have a favour to ask.”

“anything, kid. what is it?”

she takes a deep breath and breathes out slowly. she looks away momentarily again and huffs. “well, you see… people keep staring at me when i’m walking around. it’s kinda… scary. they scare me.”

“okay? are they saying anything to you? who is it? give me names.”

“they’re not! but i can feel them whisper as i pass by — that’s never a good sign.”

“i’m sure they’re not gossiping about you, kid.”

“yeah, but, you know? i don’t like the possibility that they might be doing just that. and sometimes they point.”

sebastian smiles, slowly realising what she’s getting at. “do you want me to come with you?”

she hums, scrunching her nose and pressing her lips together. “do i? want you to come with me? what a bother!”

he shrugs, slowly walking away from her. “that’s okay, i was just offering. i’ll just see you–“

“yes! yes, seb! please, please,” she whines, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the exit to the paddocks. “please come with me. i’m scared, i’m nervous, and oscar and logan are missing.”

he laughs, throwing his clipboard onto the table. “okay, let’s go. i’ll show you the best spots, kid.”

saudi arabia, 2023

she stares with wide eyes as she tries to process the question in her head. it’s the first of its kind, to be asked something like that. it echoes in her head like some of record player, unsure how she’s supposed to answer that question.

“do you think you’ll last longer than a couple of races like the last woman in formula 1?”

are they waiting for her to slip up and bring another woman down? a woman that’s basically urged her to even start racing in the first place?

is she supposed to say something that they could twist to make it sound like she’s against other women making it to where she is now? she’s just not sure. who even thinks of that question?

“is that question really appropriate?” sebastian steps forward with a hand on her back. “did you really sit there, watching this brilliant young woman walk towards you, and think that that’s an appropriate question to ask?”

“no, like i mean–“

“she will no longer be doing interviews with you. i don’t give a fuck who you work for,” sebastian mutters, slowly whisking the shocked girl away, shielding her away from the cameras.

she stays planted on the ground, head turning to follow sebastian slowly walking away. “no, it’s okay, really. i was just a little taken aback by the question.”

“no, this interview is over.”

sebastian shoots the reporter one last look before successfully whisking the young driver away from the cameras. “you don’t have to answer every question, you know?”

“it’s rude if i don’t,” she sighs, shaking her head. “i have to answer. what if they start thinking i’m a snob?”

“why is their problem if you’re a snob? if they ask you stupid questions, they can’t keep expecting sane answers,” sebastian scoffs. “write your narrative, don’t let them dictate and twist your answers.”

azerbajian, 2023

“seb,” she cries, nuzzling into his side as the marshals escort her. she has tears in her eyes as she approaches him by the medical building, finally pulling her hair back as sebastian takes her into his arms. “i’m sorry.”

“no,” he hums, rubbing her arm gently. “the important thing is that you’re okay, kid. don’t think about the crash at all.”

she shakes her head against his chest, finally letting out a soft sob. “but it’s so unlike me to crash. i’ve been racing for years!”

“these things happen.” he cranes his neck and pulls away slightly to glance at her face. she’s all red with tears streaming down her face, hiding her face away from curious race attendees. “you know what we should do?”

she mutters a soft ‘what’, rubbing her nose roughly as she glances up at him with sad eyes. he’s only gotten to know her better recently in light of him taking her under his wing, but it’s a very different energy when she’s like this. it’s not something he wants to get used to.

“i’ll walk you to the med bay, and then i’ll go and get you some ice cream. does that sound good?”

she shakes her head and sighs, letting sebastian wrap a protective arm around her as they walk. “i don’t want ice cream.”

sebastian gasps softly, flashing her a bewildered stare. “what? you don’t what?”

she sniffles. “i don’t feel like eating ice cream.”

“oh, come on,” he giggles, squeezing her cheek very lightly. “i’ll get you extra marshmallows and even add sprinkles in.”

she looks at him from the corners of her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips at his suggestion. “really? and extra chocolate syrup? just this once?”

sebastian nods with a smile. he moves over to her other side when he sees a camera approaching them, waving a hand in the air to shoo them away. “i’ll even let you eat a whole pint.”

australia, 2023

sebastian trails behind her, juggling between his phone and her helmet in her hands. he watches with a proud smile as she is stopped by a reporter.

“what does it feel like to be the first woman to score in formula 1 after years of the drought?”

she giggles giddily, stopping to answer a question. “hi! um, yes, it feels amazing to be the one to do it. it’s not a lot of points, but it really means a lot to me.”

“of course. do you think you can maintain this performance throughout your rookie season? what are some challenges you think you may face in the year to come?”

her eyes widen at the several questions for her. it feels just like they haven’t had any serious questions regarding the race for her since she started the year. sometimes they do, but it’s never really anything good that would reflect on her.

she looks over her shoulder, meeting sebastian’s eyes, as she smiles at him widely, as if to ask him ‘do you hear these legitimate questions they’re asking me?’. sebastian only gives her a warm smile in return with a thumbs-up.

she turns away and tries to come up with a proper answer to the question. “i think with sebastian’s help, it’s definitely made the transition a lot easier. hopefully i can stay consistent in the races to come. and my biggest challenge? definitely trying to catch up to max.”

they share a laugh. she turns around momentarily, looking at sebastian for approval of what she’s just rambled on about. sebastian gives her another smile and a nod, making a gesture to turn her back around.

“well, i think that’s everyone’s biggest challenge thus far into the season. thank you for your time today and good luck.”

miami, 2023

she holds the phone against her ear, temple laying against the window to stare at the paddocks. “where are you?”

“what do you mean?” sebastian’s voice comes through her phone, making her raise an eyebrow. “i don’t start as early as you today.”

“what? i’m supposed to walk into the paddocks by myself?” she shrieks, lifting her head. she looks around outside the car, watching the several people walking in and out.

“yes? aren’t you with oscar and logan?”

she tears her eyes away and turns to the other two men inside with her. “i don’t trust either of these idiots to not embarrass me walking in!”

logan throws his arms in the air, turning to her from the driver’s seat. his arm pokes between the two front seats, reaching to the back to try and hit her. she scowls and smacks his hand away, scowering away into the far corner from logan.

“you will be okay, kid. would you rather you walk in by yourself?”

she lets a moment pass. “okay. you got me there.” she sighs and rolls her eyes. “fine.”

monaco, 2023

“i’ve got an interview!”

he sees a shadow pass through the bottom of the car, prompting sebastian to jump up. the girl is already halfway towards the large exit that leads to the pitstop with a lollipop in hand. “coming!”

“it’s okay!” she holds her hands up in front of sebastian, grinning as he comes to a stop about three steps from the car.

sebastian tilts his head and frowns slightly. “what?”

“yeah, it’s a rookie interview. i got my bodyguards with me again today!”

he raises his eyebrows with an impressed grin. “oh! you’ll be okay without me?”

“yeah!”

as if on cue, two men — one in orange and on in blue — pulls up to the garage. “let’s go, loser!”

“okay,” sebastian laughs, greeting the two with a smile. he pats his driver on the back. “be back in one piece. i’ll see you later.”

“absolutely,” she grins. she runs around the car, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him. “you got my pepsi in the freezer?”

“i got 2 of them in the freezer just for you kid,” sebastian whispers, squeezing her back. he presses a kiss to the top of her head and waves as she starts walking away. “be safe!”

canada, 2023

“you don’t possibly need me just to get a cup of coffee downstairs, do you?” sebastian sighs. despite his complaint, he still follows the young driver down the stairs of the andretti racing home to get a drink.

and it’s been one their routines every race weekend: getting coffee together after their daily team meeting in his office. it’s endearing, really, how much she relies on him every weekend when she feels that the paddocks have their eyes glued to her too much.

“do you not like spending time with me anymore, seb?” she jokes, looking over her shoulder to tease him. “you can just say so.”

he laughs in bouts of sarcastic ‘haha’s and scowls at her slightly. “that’s not what i mean. half the season has come and gone — shouldn’t you be more comfortable roaming by yourself?”

“i guess,” she shrugs. “i just feel like being with you today!”

he pouts his bottom lip out and presses a hand against his chest. “oh, thank you. how thoughtful.”

sebastian stops in the kitchen of the office, grabbing the two custom andretti mugs with their names on the handle. his cup’s got her name and autograph, and hers with his. he extends his hand to her. “you know how i like my coffee, kid.”

“of course! i’m like your personal barista.”

austria, 2023

sebastian pushes the door open with a soft knock. “kid, are you better?”

“no! go away!” she shrieks, chucking a small pillow towards the door. “where are my meds? is logan seriously not back with them yet?”

he puts his hands in the air to surrender. “he’s trying to get here as quick as possible. are the cramps still bad?”

suddenly he feels like he wants to crawl into a random hole and stay there — the glare she is giving him simply made him wish that he never bothered to open his mouth.

“i don’t know. you tell me at the state you see me in,” she growls, eyebrows furrowed. “like–“

she whines again, clutching herself as she curls herself into a smaller ball on her beanbag. she closes her eyes and nuzzles her face into the stuffed koala with a soft cry.

“kid,” sebastian sighs, scratching his head. it sucks seeing anybody like that. “is there anything i can do to help? logan should be here any minute.”

“i want pepsi! freezing pepsi! like, with small bits of frozen pepsi in it — that’s how cold i want it.”

he hums. “i thought you shouldn’t be drinking cold drinks on your period?”

“you asked me how to help! i want pepsi! my frozen can of pepsi!”

he scrambles to run out of the room. “okay! i’ll get it from the fridge!”

silverstone, 2023

she shakes her arms and adjusts the neckline of her fireproofs. “i can do it.”

“yeah!” sebastian cheers, pumping his fist into the air. “i believe in you!”

“exactly. i can do it!”

but despite her words of encouragement for herself, her feet stay planted on the ground. her fists are balled by her side as her body stiffens up by the door with a scowl.

sebastian tilts his head, moving his head around hers to take a look at her face. he glances at the door. “do you have any intention to actually do it?”

“some time in the next hour, maybe,” she sighs. she turns around to sebastian and shakes her head. “i can’t do it, mate. i want to go home.”

“what?” sebastian throws his head back. he turns her back around and pushes her forward. “i promise you won’t die.”

“how do you know that?”

“you’re just walking the paddocks to the building to film a shoot with oscar and logan. you’ll survive the 2 minute walk, i swear.”

she huffs and pushes the glass doors open, glancing back at sebastian. “i’ll make a run for it so nobody has the time to realise it’s me.”

he shrugs with an impressed smile. if he were in her shoes, he never would have thought of that. “whatever works, kid.”

italy, 2023

“seb.” the girl drags her feet along the floors of the garage, hunched over slightly with a hand clutching her stomach. “how long til the first round of practice?”

“about 20 minutes,” sebastian says, looking up from his clipboard. by the sound of her voice, he already knows what’s going on. his suspicions are confirmed when he sees her at her state. “fuck’s sake.”

“i’m sorry. i promise i won’t take too long in the toilet.”

“we told you to stop eating ice cream before you have to get on the track,” sebastian sighs, throwing his head back. he puts the clipboard down, annoyed, yet he still reaches forward to wrap a protective arm around her shoulders and guides her towards the door leading to the paddocks. “your track anxiety doesn’t go well with ice cream, remember?”

“the idea was good in theory — it was pretty warm earlier.”

sebastian sighs and shakes his head. “you know where to find the meds for your stomach, right?”

she frowns, looking up at him. the pale lips and the sweaty forward simply told him everything he needed to know. he laughs with a small nod. “okay, i’ll deliver them to you with a glass of really cold water, okay?”

she nods with a small smile. “okay. thank you, seb.”

singapore, 2023

“what do i do with this?”

sebastian slowly turns to the girl with a scowl on his face. “what do you mean?”

“what do i do with this?” she repeats, putting her arms in the air in question. she turns to look sebastian in the eyes with eyebrows furrowed. “where do i put it? is it even mine?”

“they will make a replica for you to bring home.”

“but i live in an apartment with two hyperactive kids — they’ll only break it.”

“your ki– you mean kidnapper and stubby? just put it up away from them!”

“i,” she trails off, shaking her head. she lets her stare linger on the trophy sitting on the table in her driver’s room with worry. “i kinda don’t want it unless it’s a trophy for a race win.”

“complacent!” sebastian laughs. “are you that confident about being a race winner?”

“you don’t think i could win a race?”

“wait.”

“that’s kinda mean, seb. i don’t know.”

“you know that’s not what i mean.”

she shrugs and turns back to the trophy. “we just need to play bumper cars with max on the track, maybe.”

“maybe? definitely.”

she shrugs and puts her hands on her hips. “i reckon we just need more street circuits to throw max off. then maybe we get liam to be my teammate next year!”

qatar, 2023

sebastian looks up at the sound of the click of his door. he raises an eyebrow, frowning at the girl trying to silently escaping his office. “where are you going, kid?”

she stops with a hand on the door, head poking out as she smiles. “i’m going to get us coffee downstairs.”

he frowns and furrows his eyebrows. “without me?”

she squeaks slightly as she raises her eyebrows in shock. “i was gonna bring it back up here to you so we can chat while we discuss race strategies.”

“oh.”

“is something wrong? do you prefer drinking something else?”

sebastian shakes his head with a small smile. “no reason. you used to ask me to get coffee with you.” he puts a hand on his chest. “have you grown to hate me, kid?”

“aw, seb! it’s not like that!” she coos, running back into the room. she runs over to his side, resting herself on the armrest and throws her arms around sebastian. “i just thought i’d like to finally go get it myself, you know? you won’t be around forever.”

sebastian has to admit — that one kind of hurt him a little. he’d come out of retirement to step into an unlikely position in the sport so he could be part of her development as a driver. and also because he was starting to regret his decision slightly, but that’s besides the point.

and also the fact that he’s grown quite fond of her. while he’s got three children of his own back home, it’s just different with her.

“wow, kid. counting down the days to my eventual retirement that i won’t take back?”

“no, you misunderstand me, seb,” she giggles, resting her cheek on top of his head. “i just wanted to be a big girl; like you always tell me to be in the paddocks every weekend!”

brazil, 2023

“you’ll be okay without me?” sebastian hums, raising an eyebrow as he stands in her hotel room. he sinks into her pillows on the bed as he watches the young girl darting around the room to gather her things. “i can come if you want.”

“logan and oscar will be with me,” she grins, scrunching her nose with a soft giggle. “unless you would like to come with us, seb?”

he scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “no way. i don’t understand valorant like you kids — i would have more questions than anything else. you don’t want that, kid.”

she laughs, shoving her items into her small purse. “it’s blythe’s finals! and i’m just as clueless about valorant as you are. the 3 of us know nothing.”

“i’m just upset you hadn’t invited me in the first place.”

“it was last minute! just come with us, seb!”

“i don’t have a ticket.”

“one of the players’ my sister. we’ll find a way to get you in without a ticket.”

sebastian raises his eyebrow. “wow, corruption has gotten to you quick.”

“no, that’s literally how we’re able to attend. blythe pulled strings.”

he rolls his eyes, a small smile growing on his lips as he pushes himself off the bed. he actually does want to come along. finding out he wasn’t even part of the original plan hurt, yes, but he doesn’t want to push himself to be a part of plans that he’s not invited to.

“okay, if you insist.”

las vegas, 2023

she raises an eyebrow, scoffing. “you’re fucking kidding, right?”

max raises his eyebrows, turning to the girl with an impressed grin. while she’s not one to shy from cussing away from cameras, doing it with a room full of cameras and reporters is simply a different thing. he glances at sebastian who has his chest puffed out and eyebrows furrowed since the question was being asked.

the question was easy: how do you do your hair for race weekends, and how does it always look good after the race?

kimi is right, his lecture that weekend in austin has finally taken its mark in her brain. why are all the questions directed at her during press conferences always redirected back to her womanhood?

if she wanted to be asked about her makeup routine and collection, she’d have started an instagram live instead of wasting her time on this stupid couch.

“it’s unfair, don’t you think? you’ve asked me one question about racing, now suddenly it’s about my hair?”

“in a sense that–“

“i’m just curious. i’ve raced the races of what i can give this year to prove that i should be respected as a driver. why are you asking me about my hair?” she raises an eyebrow. “you’re a 50-year-old man. what have you got to learn from my haircare routine?”

max snorts and sebastian bursts into laughter. she clenches her jaw, genuinely getting slightly agitated. she meets sebastian’s eyes who only gives her a thumbs up with the proudest smile.

it’s nice to finally see her standing up for herself.

abu dhabi, 2023

sebastian holds the phone up to his ear, looking into the designated car that she’d taken to the paddocks that night.

“yeah?” a soft voice comes through, getting overshadowed by the loud music in the background. “what’s up, seb?”

“where are you? i’m at your car.”

he hears her hum in confusion. “what do you mean? i’m already in the paddocks, seb.”

he scratches his head, raising his eyebrow as he looks towards the busy entrance of the paddocks. “what do you mean? i thought you’d wait for me outside? aren’t logan and oscar coming in later than we are?”

“yes. but i arrived before you so i thought i’d just wait for you here,” she explains. “did i forget something?”

“no, it’s just,” he sighs and starts making his way to the row of gantries, “you’d usually wait for me if you were by yourself. i thought we were doing the same — i completely forgot that you’re a big girl now.”

he hears her laugh, louder and wholeheartedly. “seb, that’s so sweet! i can’t believe you looked for me even though i haven’t said anything!”

he rolls his eyes. “oh, shut up.”

— bonus

“seb, look what i got you over the break!” she shrieks, jogging into his room with a paper bag in her hands. “i got us matching somethings!”

he raises an eyebrow, looking up from his phone. “what? you got me something?”

“yeah! i wouldn’t have gotten my first points without you, so i wanted to get us something to celebrate our first points as a duo,” she giggles, sitting on the seat on the other side of the table.

she puts the paper bag down and starts pulling a set of mug out of it. she hands him a mug and holds up her own excitedly.

he looks at the mug. it’s got her name on the handle and her signature messily printed over their names mushed together into one in big and blocky purple letters.

“look at the bottom.”

‘long live — all the magic we made’ with the date of the australia race is carved into the bottom of the mug.

he smiles, looking up. “you really didn’t have to, kid. but thank you. this is so thoughtful.”

she claps silently, jumping on the spot with a giggle. “it’s just a small token to remember one of the times we made history together.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @inejismywife @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[blingblong55]

Now that we don't talk- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

A/N: funny enough...these two drivers are no longer with the girls in these pictures. also, this is not me telling you how reader looks like

--- F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, F1 au, F1 driver!Simon, cheating ---

A/N: watched the Las Vagas shit show of a race and then got inspired....so here's this shit mess of a fic

He was the guy every girl wanted, from the teens to the older women, yet he held your hand on the red carpet at that award show. He kissed you in yachts and danced with you in galas and ballrooms. Paraded your name when he won races. You were everywhere, from tea pages, to fan-made edits and now you're here, stuck in a hotel room, waiting for him. For the past seven months, he's kept you hidden, like you were some kind of repunzel. Never to be let out of the tower unless it was by him. He had what every driver and fan wanted in their lives, fame, wealth, social status, a gorgeous and supportive girlfriend and the way he was the best at his job. 

They always say to look for the smallest of clues, that's why, all the tabloids talked about how he 'had it all'. Now, he took out the girlfriend part and added Playboy to the list. 

Three months before you and him announced your split, he sat down with you. Told you all the truths he kept from you. Your tears well up in that pretty face of yours. "I started to see other women, that was nine months ago, in Spain, that's why I told you to stay at the hotel," his eyes too teared up. It took a lot to not slap him, scream and yell at him for being such a man slut, but you needed to hear it, needed to know the truth before the internet did. He took a deep breath, "I...there's been at least ten different women, I've slept with more but...only those ten did I take to race weekends instead of you." His eyes, full of regret look at you. "When did you stop loving me?" Your question caught him off guard. "I...I think it was a year ago but I thought it was me being anxious over that whole contract thing and having to move and...I'm sorry, I shouldn't make excuses for my actions," he looks down. 

You nod, not daring to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry, R/N," his voice small. "No, I'm sorry," you respond and he looks at you confused. "What do you mean by that?" He questions you. "I'm sorry for falling in love, for being a fool and seeing myself with you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry for trusting you were sleeping alone when I wasn't there...I'm sorry I wasn't enough to make you stay...or to be patient enough and end it like a real man would," you play with your phone's edge. You look at him, finally. "Why did you keep me hidden?" He shakes his head at that question. "The times you were there, the other women were there too," he confesses and your heart stops. "...oh," your voice is small, so soft and filled with so much woe. 

"I...I guess I should go," You stand up. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you deserved, I hope you find a man who treats you like you are the universe to him, I hope he kisses you in public and I wish you happiness, I'm sorry." He stands up too and walks you to the door. 

A month later, you and him confirmed the rumour. "Formula 1 driver Simon Riley and long-time girlfriend [R/N], have announced their split on a joint social media statement." The article read. Your phone is on silent as you reread the message you put out to the world. "To the fans, it is time we confirm that we are no longer together. We have grown apart and it's time we grow up and move on to new parts of our lives. We will always love each other, together or not but our relationship has run its course. All our gratitude for the six years of acceptance, Simon and [R/N]." Your eyes glistened with sorrow as you shook your head. 

For days, you stayed indoors. Cried, looked through memories, private ones the world never saw. What did he do? He was photographed in clubs, hand on a woman's waist, drunk kisses, alcohol, tight dresses and that new title, "F1's playboy." He kept winning, getting more fame and having his name all over the world. Meanwhile, you walk the streets alone. You were there for when he was accepted in F3 and when he moved to F2, even were the shoulder he leaned on all the years he waited to become an F1 driver.  

His bed was never the same, neither was his flat. It was no longer cosy, no longer comforting after a bad or long day. His bed missed the warmth of it. His lips missed the consistent pecks after he gave you a pouty lip when you denied staying up late on race day. What did he miss the most? You, all of you and that was soon to be shown. That Playboy facade was for show, inside, all he wanted was to stop being seen with so many women. He wanted one and quickly, his team noticed. He stopped showing up at parties, and clubs and stopped talking to all the women who weren't there for official business or if they weren't a fan who asked for an autograph or picture. 

That mask only stayed on for eight months, thirteen days and four hours. He stopped showing off his wealth, dressed in only team attire, comfy clothes, or in suits and ties. His bed was empty most nights, his right cheek was no longer stained with the red lipstick you left at every little accomplishment he made. He fixed his image and unfollowed any woman who wasn't important in his career, except one, you. 

And as he did this, all you saw were the old tabloids. Him all over women. You dated off the light the media gave you, you kept your nights away from sight, fixed and resolved all your problems and then, by some cruel mistake, you saw him. Jogging by your place. For some twisted way, your heartbeat fastened. It brought you back to when you'd time him before the season started. That's where the kiss on the right cheek came from. A towel-dried that side of his face, just so you could kiss it. This happened all through your relationship. And, on some Wednesday, a friend invited you to attend the last race of the season. 

You attended, not just because of the invite but because it was a promise. "When I win most if not all races I want you to go, be waiting for me, look up to the podium because my love, that entire season will be yours," he, one night whispered to you. And there you were, in that garage, wearing a hat, his number on it as you watched the qualification. The cameras awaited to capture you and him kissing, but none of that happened, not even a glance from you to him. 

"Riley takes pole, all eyes on him to see if he breaks yet another record," the commentator said. And as he sat there, he thought of you. The good luck kiss, the pat on his helmet before any race. And holding hands when walking to the paddock. It was a ritual, something he held holy to him. If only he could prove he is the man you now deserve if he could get out of his car, run to you and confess a speech he memorised. The one that said all the truth, the one in which he tells you that just in your first year being together, he had a ring picked out, the same one he kept in every coat for when the time was right. And there was that mistake, one fatal one that cost him his Mrs. Riley. Every single second was the right time, every stare, every kiss, every laugh, the whispers, the running from the cameras, it was always you, it was always the right time when with you. 

Simon Riley, world champion, world record breaker, the man every driver wants to be this year, now claiming every single race of that season as he walked to that podium. And, in a crowd of friends, teammates, fans and cameras, he looked for you. National anthems played and as he was about to lose hope, he saw you there, the spot he told you to stand in for when the day came. You look up, and the cameras pan to you and him. That stare, oh that stare that spoke the romance no other book or poet could explain. His smile widened, gaze softened when he noticed you cried. Proud of the man who made his dreams come true. 

Maybe you weren't there for all the days he drove but that engagement ring, that symbolised you, was there for all of them. You give him a nod and his smile widens.

"I'll do it, I swear one day, I'll be added to the list of legends who came before me and when I do, I need you there, my love," he kissed you. "And when I do, you nod at me, that's how I'll know you are proud of me," he whispered. 

As the night came to an end, the photos, flashes, and signatures, all rushed to come and find you. He needed his right cheek kissed and maybe this time it wouldn't be his lips but to just feel you next to him, that fed him enough. He spotted you and as he ran to you, he stopped in his tracks. 

One month, two days and three hours. That is how late he was to you. His gaze was now filled with tears as he saw you hold another hand. A woman, looking for nothing but sex approached him and he declined. "Why not?" She questioned him. "I have a fiancé," he said coldly and moved away from her. He looked down, at a paper, written by his poetic hand, a small box, made by him with the help of some carpenter, all gripped as he swore he would not give up. Not ever, especially when he knows that in this life, he was meant for one woman. Maybe he did fuck up, maybe he will be forever alone but to know that for one second he held you in his arms, that was enough. 

He nodded and sighed, "Is it over now?" he thought. "No," your heart would've responded for you. As he turns and walks away, you look back and you notice that box. Your heart...oh that tingle that makes you feel alive. Maybe it was all in his head, maybe he wasn't late...maybe. "Simon!" you called out, the crowd too loud for him to hear you. Your friend lets go of your hand. "Simon!" you move through the crowds. "Simon, stop!" You push and run. Adrenaline, maybe not like the one he has after every race but it's still something. He walks away, getting into a car and looking at that piece of paper. 

No one heard of him for months. No one heard of you for months. 

My love, my R/N, I made a mistake. Not cheating but one that is worse, pretending I didn't call you my wife to everyone else. A vow I made in my head, a wedding night I planned one night as we made love. Truth is, no, I didn't cheat. No, I didn't sleep with anyone when I was with you. What happened was, I noticed it. I noticed how you paused your life for mine, how you took care of me, how you made sure I ate healthy, slept enough, and got used to different time zones, all whilst giving your life no attention. I was 17 when we first met, you and I, an accidental 'Hi' one that gave me the privilege of falling in love with the woman who knows me better than anyone else. I've known you for a decade now, loved you for nine of those years, and made you my girlfriend for five of them. I wore that title with pride. By the way, didn't you ever question why everyone called you my wife or Mrs. Riley? Funny how you didn't even ask me about it. I admit, I was only at those clubs looking for you, I didn't drink but pretended to, I kissed their cheeks, made it look like I kissed their lips. In my head, I was married. I am married. Called you my little wife when you patted my helmet to the mechanics, they laughed. I did sleep with other women, I confess to that but I didn't kiss them, didn't care for their pleasure, not when I promised it was your pleasure...just yours that mattered to me. Did you keep my locket? I hope you did, if not...it's fine, we'll find a new one and start fresh. I know you are wondering, why I can't let you talk as I give this speech and I know you are crying, your lips quiver as I confess. It's a reason why I haven't looked up from this piece of paper. I can't see you cry, you know that. I am begging, begging as an imbecile, to have you again. To prove that I never cheated, I lied about doing it but never did. You'd think I'd be crazy to cheat on a crazy girl like you? Baby, that was a joke, although...you are a little crazy but I still love you. I love you...yeah...yeah, I do. I know you are asking, when will this stupid man stop talking and it's now. Well, wait...just let me say this. Marry me, marry me so I don't have to pretend anymore. So...please, be kind to my bastard heart and marry me.

A/N: you know well a Kasper fic isn't a Kasper angst fic if it doesn't end in a 'but are they together? did he die? did she die?' way

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[leodette]

Hello! Would it be possible to get some Max + 49? Thank you very much!

no. 49 - holding onto the other’s shoulders for support

Please, I’ve Been On My Knees | MV33

fandom: Formula 1

pairing: Max Verstappen x OC (not named)

names/faceclaims: -

summary: she needs small helpful hand before leaving for FIA Award Ceremony

warning: -

requested: yes / no

**********

“Baby, did you see my phone?” Max yelled from the bedroom, looking around for the familiar case with a cat face on it.

“It’s in my clutch already, Maxie. So you wouldn’t loose it,” his girlfriend answered, walking out of the bathroom, applying the final layer of lip oil.

They were in Baku, at the annual FIA Award Ceremony. Basically said - if you were a rookie, or top 3 in the championship, you had to be there. Max attended the ceremony two times already, claiming his two world championship trophies, but he was always accompanied by a family member. Either his mom, or his grandma, or his sister. This year it was the first time he would have his girlfriend with him. They met at the last year’s ceremony, her being the daughter of one of the patrons. Flashforward, and this year she was by his side, her father sending her in his stead.

She was hiding her dress from him, murmuring that it was a surprise and he didn’t need to match since he only needed a black tuxedo and a black bow tie. But despite that, Max knew that his girl would look awesome, and that was confirmed when she entered the room, closing the pocket mirror and looking at him. Max was like he saw a ghost - mouth open, not able to think properly. Because he didn’t expect a long silver gown that covered her body like a waterfall, with a deep cutout at the back that almost showed the top part of her gorgeous bum.

“Did the dress come with a sleeping mask as well?” he asked finally, coming to his senses. She stopped in her tracks, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why a sleeping mask?”

Max smirked. “Hope you don’t expect me to allow anyone else to ogle you,” he put his hands on her waist, pressing a kiss on her neck.

“Oh stop it you muppet,” she giggled, pushing him away.

“Note to self - don’t allow her to spend so much time with Norris, his vocabulary rubs on her,” Max murmured under his breath while picking his suit jacket, throwing it over his shoulders and taking her bag.

“Shall we go?” he offered her his arm, but she she smirked.

“You want me to go barefoot? Seriously?” she motioned for a pair of silver heels on the other side of bed, making a step in their direction.

“Don’t,” Max stopped her, picking the shoes and lowering himself on one knee in front of her, gently grabbing one of her soft calves.

“May I?” he looked up at her. She had her lip between her teeth, blushing slightly.

“Mhmmm,” she hummed and grabbed his shoulders for stability when he lifted her leg and put the shoe on her foot, tying the satin ribbon around her shin.

“Second one, please baby,” Max motioned for the other leg, and she lifted it on his command, allowing him the same treatment as the first time. He tied the bow, not too tight but not too loose, and pressed a kiss on the inner side of her knee.

Her breath hitched.

“Behave,” she whispered breathily, and Max smirked, knowing well what affect he had on her.

And he wanted to continue when his phone in her bag pinged, announcing the arrival of their car. It broke them out of the heated bubble, the pair exchanging smiles before finally picking all their necessities and walking out of the room, her allowing Max to lock the door.

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 10

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.7k Also on AO3

“Bringing back bad memories, that one” Nick sighs, his eyes scanning you from head to toe to ensure everything is correctly placed. “You should take it off now or, else you'll forget.” 

You glance up at him from your seat, adjusting your shoes. “What is it?” you ask, your voice barely audible over the sounds of the mechanics working in the garage, even inside the driver room. 

“The necklace, I can keep it for you” he offers, extending his hand towards you, waiting. You follow his gaze down to the pendant resting against your chest, then back up to meet his eyes. Your hand instinctively moves to cover the necklace, reluctant to remove it. 

A surge of emotion rises within you as your fingers tighten around the pendant. This necklace, your grandmother’s, has become your anchor after all the time spent drifting through uncertainty. The first solid connection to reality you have found in what feels like an eternity. You could almost swear it flutters beneath your touch at the thought, gentle beats that offer a quiet, reassuring comfort. 

The thought of letting it go, even for a moment, feels unbearable. 

“No, no, I want to wear it for the race” you insist, voice steady despite the emotion. 

Nick drops his hand, his brows furrowing at your hesitation. "You know it’s not allowed, better not to get any more penalties for this..." He tries to lighten up the mood, although your silence is confirmation enough of his failure.  

“Alright, I’ll leave it here” you accept, reaching up to unclasp the chain.  

As you remove the necklace, you take a moment to hold it close, savouring its comforting weight. Taking a deep breath, you reach into the sports bag at your feet and open the inner pocket. However, you only use this motion to cover your movements, slipping the pendant into the fitted sleeve of your undershirt instead. Tucking it out of sight, until you can search for a better part to hide it.. 

Nick does not seem to notice your maneuver, and if he does, he remains silent.  

You stand up this time, taking the gloves and earpieces from the table Nick is leaning into. “What did you mean by bringing back bad memories?” you remember, placing the cables inside your race suit. 

The coach picks the neck support device and blue helmet in one hand, taking the lead and opening the door for you “It’s nothing, I’ll tell you later”. 

“But-” you insist, there are far too many conversations set aside for a later which does not seem to ever arrive. 

“No buts. Let’s focus on the race”  

“Look who’s here!” Carlos’ welcomes you into the group with a half-smile, a blend of amusement and surprise lighting up his brown eyes “What, are we finally worthy enough to talk to you?”

You frown up at the man “What are you talking about?”, tugging the sleeves of your race suit over your hips in a futile attempt to cool down from the stifling Belgian heat. Despite just leaving the air-conditioned area, the fireproof fabric uncomfortably clings to your body like a second skin.

In stark contrast, the men around you seem effortlessly composed.

Lando, never one to miss an opportunity to tease, chimes in “Don’t think so highly of yourself, I bet she just couldn’t find Lewis. Isn’t that right?”

Daniel easily catches the brief, involuntary flash of surprise that crosses your face at the mention of the British man. Yes, you might have been looking for him without luck and finally settled for approaching the group, but the bigger question is: how does Lando know that?

If the knowing glint in Dan’s eyes isn’t a clear enough sign of his realization, his next words make it undeniable. “He’s there. Should we call him? Lew-”.

Before he can finish, you dart forward, clapping a hand over his mouth to stop the name from being shouted. It is only after the fact that you discover Daniel was messing with, the man is nowhere to be seen, but the triumphant laughter that escapes him confirms he’s hit the mark.

Stepping back from the Australian, you scan the group of drivers, bracing for the expected complaints or exaggerated fake cries about being the second choice. But it’s the quiet exchange of knowing smirks between them that sends a chill down your spine. The “I knew it” which bursts out of Lando’s further cementing your suspicions. It is not the first time the topic has come up.

Feeling the weight of their gazes and clinging to the last shreds of your dignity, you retort “Well, you know, it’s not like you’re particularly friendly in the pre-race activities either!”

The driver’s reaction is immediate. A few eyebrows shot up in surprise and they fall silent, their playful demeanour shifting to genuine confusion. It is clear your comment catches them off guard.

Daniel, momentarily at a loss, tilts his head. “Wait, what do you mean? It’s you who’s been warning us not to distract you before races since the start of the season”

Lando, in a low murmur adds, adds to the fire “Almost bit my head off last time I tried to wish her good luck”. His words, coupled with Carlos’ nod in agreement, leaving you even more baffled.

You stare at them, struggling o reconcile their version of events with the reality you’ve had no choice but to accept.

Despite the care they have shown you off the track, an invisible barrier seems to rise between you and the drivers as the crucial moment of the weekend approach. Initially, you attributed this to pre-race nerves. After all, these men were risking everything every weekend for a place in that elusive ranking—a goal they’ve dedicated their lives to. It seemed only natural for them to adopt a more reserved demeanour, to focus on what was to come.

And yet, that theory would come crumbling to the floor as soon as you saw them with the rest of the grid. Chatting with their opponents, from inside and outside their teams, as though it was any other day. Laughing and joking around while you could barely get a simple hello out of them.

It was fair though, they were the only ones who could understand each other’s worries. The only twenty people in the world who shared the uncommon experience of being a Formula One driver. Well, nineteen, the anxiety drowning your mind before a race was of a completely different nature.

You dreaded the minutes preceding the races, or even practices, the unnerving routine of dressing yourself up in these ridiculous clothes and acting like nothing were about to happen. Smile for the cameras, wave to the grandstands and wait. The blackout will come in no time, as soon as the lights mark the start of the race and you are drowned into the darkness. The hours will turn into second and you will open your eyes to the sound of the engine turning off, the start of a new week. A cyle that repeats itself again, and again. Inescapable.

That is your long-awaited reward after a week of relentless research for a solution to this nightmare. The mere thought of it tightens the tangle of emotions inside of you, the threads digging into every single part of your being. Threatening to snap.

“Oh, hello! What are you doing here?” you are pushed out of your head with the help of the missing Ferrari driver, his question and surprise a decalcomania of his teammate’s greeting.

With that, you decide to set the record straight “Well, I’ve changed my mind! You can talk to me as much as you want during the ceremonies”.

Even if you have never expressed otherwise, it has come the time for you to step your foot down. You have dealt with enough rules of this ‘reality’ already, this is the one you are not going to go along with. You are glad Lewis ignored it from the start.

The conversation turns to the regulation’s changes and race talk soon after you lift that foolish ban.

“The oversteering’s been crazy, feels like I’m fighting the wheel half of the time” Carlos’ mutters, crossing his arms.

Lando, who’s been listening with a smirk, raises an eyebrow. “Come on, mate! So much whining for someone in P2, I’d trade you any day for those ‘problems’” the real issues the McLarens have been all weekend probably swarming his head despite his goofy remark.

You let out a chuckle. “Where’d you guys end up in qualifying? I don’t remember” you look back at the cars parked behind you, trying to decipher the team’s place in the grid for the Grand Prix.

“Yeah, yeah, keep looking for them. Let me know if you find it” Daniel mocks with a grin, his sarcasm clear “Got knocked out in Q2”.

“Thankfully!” Lando chimes in, giving his teammate a playful nudge, “Or else, I wouldn’t even be sitting in P10. We had to ditch of the deadweight”

Before Dan can turn to smack Ian, you cut in, shaking your head “You’re such crybabies”. Your car sitting in eighteenth place—a world away from their complaints—making their grumbling seem almost absurd.

As the staff signals for everyone to take their places for the National Anthem, the group begins to disperse. Carlos seizes the moment, guiding you through the crowd with a steady hand on your back, ensuring you don't get lost in the sea of journalists. His touch is gentle but firm, a subtle gesture of protection as he walks you to your designated spot.

Since you finally allowed them to do it, the Ferrari driver wishes you a last good luck when you reach your spot, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to wave when I’m lapping you” a childish smirk playing on his lips. Your response is to jokingly push him away with a shake of your head, but you should have known better than to mess with a Formula One driver’s reflexes.

Carlos manages to catch your hand midway, using it as leverage to bring you close into a quick hug instead. “Buena suerte” he whispers in your ear, a very noticeable smile in his voice, before pulling away and walking over to his spot.

You watch him go, struggling to suppress the grin tugging at your lips. It would be tempting to claim that such antics are rare or that the Spaniard usually maintains a professional behaviour around you, but that would be far from the truth.

From the very beginning, Carlos has acted as though you shared the closest of relationships. And, while he has not been the only one acting with such familiarity around you, the Ferrari driver has always been the most blatant about it. Whether it's the small gestures, like bringing you a snack whenever he senses you might be hungry, or his public defense of you in front of the press after a controversial track move, his support has been unwavering. A support you are beyond grateful for —despite the anguish the latter one brought you, the fact that you underwent such complicated circumstances while being completely blackout still as terrifying as the first time.

Moments like this impromptu hug in the middle of a Grand Prix are trivial compared to his ongoing acts of kindness.

Naturally, the press and viewers does not quite see it that way.

At first, you tried to block out every headline with your name in it, the thought of someone dissecting your every movement and posting it for everybody to see sent chills down your spine. You pretended they did not exist for days, weeks even, but their presence was impossible to escape. Nick brought them up over breakfast, the media team held daily briefings, and journalists were waiting for you after every session. The more you ignored them, the louder they seemed to get, their words echoing in the corners of your mind.

Over time, you realized you couldn’t keep running. The internet was filled to the brim with information and photos of you, false information, but even that could help you understand what could possibly be happening. So you learned to confront them, to skim the articles without overthinking your situation. Even if sometimes the sight of their supposed prospects of your future in the sport was too much to handle.

What future? There is none here, this is all fake. A farce.

Yet, despite all this, you tried to absorb as much information as you cort. Read over the articles on the sport, watched interviews, even flipped through gossip magazines and, of course, scrolled endlessly through Formula One-related posts on social media. Honestly, the discovery of that phone in Charles’ apartment had revealed a now word before your eyes. Not only through messages app, which was filled with countless chats, but gave you access to ‘your’ personal accounts in several apps. Profiles with millions of followers which offered a treasure trove of data.

While the major newspapers and respected outlets maintained a veneer of professionalism, social media was an entirely different beast—a chaotic circus of opinions, rumours and speculation. You had never immersed yourself fully in the Formula One world; most of your knowledge came from your father, but you couldn’t deny it was enjoyable. The endless stream fan jokes and theories of behind-the-scenes' drama keeping you thoroughly entertained in between races.

It just so happens that this week’s hot topic is your relationship with a certain Spanish driver.

There are countless videos of every interaction between you and Carlos —both the ones you’re aware of and those you aren’t. The captions often paint these moments with a dramatic, romantic flair that likely didn’t reflect the reality of the situation. Or maybe they did, you never know with that man. You can only imagine the headlines this quick hug between the two of you will generate.

Well, they may have better things to talk about.

Like when you stumble out of your car after the race, your mind still reeling with the unpredictable flashes that assaulted you through all of it. The usual loss of consciousness replaced by blurred images flickering by, colours appearing and disappearing at the edges of your vision, while a light breeze brushed against your neck. It… it had never happened before.

Still half-conscious, your feet dragged you forward, between the parked F1 cars and into a pretty crowded area. The screams and cheers alerting you. You rise your head, the heavy helmet hindering your movements and restricting your vision, but you can clearly see you have unknowingly walked to the car’s Podium Holding Area. Two Red Bulls rest there, two Red Bulls and, to the side,… a Ferrari?

Your head shots up, eyes open like saucers as you look around for the drivers. One, in a navy-blue race suit, is by the barricades with the team, another by…

You don’t have to search long for the driver in deep red, because he’s sprinting straight towards you with open arms. There’s barely enough time for you to process it —just enough to catch the vibrant colors of Spain on his helmet—, before you instinctively open your own arms to embrace him.

“Oof” you let out at the impact, but Carlos simply raises you up in the air, tightly hugging you in as he gives a spin. You can only laugh at his excitement, the sound muffled by the padding and the clashes between of both your helmets. The chaos of the celebration around you fading into the background—the cheers, the music, the revving engines—all of it blurs into a distant hum.

The man lets you down, his hands grabbing your shoulders and jokingly shaking you back and forth, letting go off all the accumulated adrenaline he must have. “Ah, I can’t believe it! No sabes lo que me ha costado! (You have no idea how tough it’s been)” he confesses with a smile, lifting his visor as if you could see the effort he has put on the race just by the look on his eyes.

You give his chest a playful smack, skepticism in your eyes. They have spent all weekend gushing about how good the car felt in this track. “Pero… ¿tercero? ¿Segundo? (But… third? Second?)” you ask excitedly, lifting your visor to get a clearer view of the podium behind him.

The sickness that plagued you just moments ago vanished completely, slipping from your mind as if it was never there.

Carlos grabs hold of your helmet, tilting your head so you’re forced to meet his gaze. ”¿Qué dices? ¡He ganado! (What are you saying? I won!)” he corrects you, his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of triumph and disbelief.

“¡¿Qué?! (What?!)” you shout in surprise, and before you know it, you’re throwing your arms around Carlos, overwhelmed the surge of happiness that sweeps through you.

His loud, hearty laughter rumbles against your helmet, a deep, joyful sound that reverberates through the hug. You hold him even tighter, caught in this bubble of euphoria. You can feel the warmth of his body through your suits, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart in sync with the joy that floods over you. And also, a surprising sense of peace and closeness, a feeling that maybe he isn’t such a stranger anymore.

In that moment, while you are fused into a hug with the Ferrari driver, you pause to remind yourself a very important fact: this is all just your own mind playing tricks on you.

Next

Author's note: So it's been a long time since I last posted. I missed the story, seriously. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter a lot. Thank you all so much for reading, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated!

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[lecsainz]

through the storm

pairings: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

request: Hi! Would you be interested into writing one for Charles, where the reader is going through some difficult time in life (struggling with mental health, work or "big life decisions", it's up to you), and he's being very supportive and understanding, offering help as well?

authors note: I was kinda hesitating on how to write this, but hope ya like it!

warnings: anxiety attack.

✩. . . masterlist !

It was one of those nights when everything seemed to crumble around me. Life had thrown me a series of challenges that left me feeling overwhelmed and drained. Struggling with my mental health, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. But there was one person who had always been my anchor in the storm - Charles Leclerc.

As a Formula 1 driver, Charles's demanding schedule meant we couldn't be together as much as we wanted. But every time we were apart, he made sure to be there for me, offering his unwavering support and understanding.

On this particular night, as I found myself on the edge of an anxiety attack, I reached for my phone and dialed Charles's number. His voice was a lifeline as he answered, "Hey love, what's going on?"

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I struggled to find the words. "I... I can't breathe, Char. Everything feels like it's falling apart."

"Take deep breaths, Y/NN (your nickname). I'm here with you." he said soothingly. "You're not alone, and you're going to get through this."

As I continued to sob, Charles gently guided me through a calming breathing exercise. His voice was a steady presence, reminding me that I was safe and loved.

"Focus on your breath, in and out." he said. "I'm right here, holding your hand."

His words were like a lifeline, grounding me in the present moment. Slowly, the panic subsided, and I felt a sense of calm wash over me. "Thank you, Charles." I whispered, my voice shaky but filled with gratitude.

"I'll always be here for you, mon amour." he replied, his voice filled with warmth and love. "Do you want me to come over?"

"No, it's okay." I reassured him. "You have your race, and I don't want to distract you."

"Y/N, you're never a distraction. Your well-being is the most important thing to me." he said earnestly. "But if you need me, I'll be there in a heartbeat."

His words touched my heart, and I felt a surge of love for this incredible man who always put me first. "I know." I said softly. "I just needed to hear your voice. It always makes everything feel better."

"I'm glad I could help," he said. "Now, how about we talk about something that always makes you smile? Like that time we got lost on our road trip and ended up in that tiny, charming village?"

I chuckled through my tears, letting his stories and laughter ease the heaviness in my heart. We talked for hours, and with each passing minute, I felt my anxiety recede, replaced by a sense of comfort and love.

His presence, even through the phone, grounded me. I felt his unwavering support, and for that moment, the world didn't feel so lonely.

As the night wore on, I felt the weight of exhaustion setting in. "I'm so tired, Char." I whispered, my voice raw with emotion.

"Then rest, love. You need it," he replied, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm here with you. Close your eyes, and I'll stay on the line until you fall asleep, okay?"

The simple act of knowing he was there, on the other end of the line, gave me the comfort I needed. As I lay in bed, Charles spoke softly, sharing stories from his racing adventures, making me laugh and smile through the tears.

Slowly, the sound of his voice lulled me into a peaceful slumber, and before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep, still cradling the phone.

Hours later, I awoke to the sound of footsteps approaching. Charles had kept his word and traveled back home, putting aside his racing commitments for me.

He entered the room, and our eyes met in the dim light. "Ma belle." he said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I sat up, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. "Char, you should've raced. I didn't want to be a burden." I whispered.

He took my hand in his, gently brushing away a tear. "You're never a burden, love." he assured me, "Your well-being is my priority, and I'd do anything for you."

His love and dedication overwhelmed me, and I buried my face in his chest, finding solace in his embrace.

"I just want you to know that you don't have to face everything alone," he whispered, stroking my hair, "I'm here, and we'll face the world together, no matter what."

In that moment, I knew that I had found a love that was steadfast and unwavering. Charles was not just a talented F1 driver; he was my rock, my anchor in the storm.

As the night wore on, we talked about my struggles and fears, and he assured me that we would find a way through it all. His support and understanding gave me the strength to face the challenges that lay ahead.

In the embrace of his arms, I found a sense of peace and security that I hadn't felt in a long time. And as I drifted back to sleep, I knew that together, we could weather any storm that life threw our way.

[youaresimplylovely]

“Fast and Fabulous: A Driven Love” 

---- A love story between a Formula 1 Driver and a Supermodel

Chapter 3 (Chapter 1, Chapter 2) Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Pairing: Carlos Sainz!Formula 1 Driver x Famous Supermodel!Reader

Words: 1,594 words

Warnings: Angsty! translated spanish, lil swearing, slight smau, fluff at the end, just pretend that the paddock passes are correct :') couldn't find accurate ones for 21'

Proofread!!

Summary: The Night Before the Race

A/N: finallyyyy, chapter 3 is hereee. Thank you for the support, love yall. Chapter 4 is in the making, should i give u guys another spoiler? :0

9:45 PM, September 11, you stared at the clock with heavy breaths. You groan, sitting up from your bed as you look out your hotel room's window. It was the night before the Italian Grand Prix. Sighing loudly, you look out, seeing the beautiful view of Monza. Your family stayed at Hotel De La Ville, a famous hotel, and the hotel drivers stayed before the races. Eyes blinking profusely as you realize you're staying in the same hotel. This feeling you had, you were so nervous, so worried. That feeling you used to get came back. You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. 

Suddenly, the loud, sharp noise of your hotel room being opened startled you. You yelped, turning around with eyes widened. Sighing softly as you realize it's Pao. 

"Gee, you look like you've seen a ghost." 

He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, eyeing you from head to toe. 

"Sorry, just nervous for the race tomorrow." You sigh, sitting down on your bed. 

"Or because you have a crush on one of the drivers?"

Pao laughs, teasing you; he sits beside you, patting your shoulder as he smirks. 

"Oh my god, Pao! I don't have a crush on him!" 

Oh, how you wished you lied. 

He was right; you did. Come on? Who wouldn't have a crush on Carlos Sainz Jr? He's every girl's dream man. That's why you couldn't be happier when he signed that contract with Ferrari. He's one of the reasons why you're a Ferrari fan. Dozing off and being lost in your thoughts was disturbed by Pao snapping his finger in front of your face. 

"Are you high or something?" 

He laughs, looking at your dead-ass blank face, which soon turns to a disgusted face. You playfully and gently slap his face. 

"What do you want?" You roll your eyes, asking him why he's in your room. 

"Dad said to give you the paddock passes." 

He gives you the paddock passes for your whole family, and you smile softly, looking at it. 

"Great, thanks"

You said as you put the passes on the first drawer of your nightstand.

"Get some sleep, Y/N," 

Pao chuckles, gently patting your shoulder as he leaves your room, closing the door. 

You snicker at what your brother said, sighing softly as you grab the paddock passes from your drawer. You took your phone from your pocket and took a picture of the paddock passes. You opened your Instagram and posted a picture of the paddock passes.  

ynlovesu

Liked by f1, scuderiaferrari, and 20,345,601 others

ynlovesu see yah Monza  

  view all comments

f1 Can’t wait to see you there y/n! 

scuderiaferrari See you tomorrow, our Ferrari girl 👋

Yourbsf GIRLIE’S ATTENDING HER FIRST RACEEEEE SLAYED ATE

mercedesamgf1 that’s our future wag

scuderiaferrari excuse me?? That’s OUR future wag  Mclaren back off boys Redbullracing nuh uh, OURS. User3 LMAO NOT THE TEAMS ARGUING WHO’S GONNA BE THEIR FUTURE WAG 

Paodelacruz RED BULL WILL WIN 😍😍🥰🥰🥰🤣🤣

ynlovesu you suck 

Fernandoalo_oficial Tan emocionada de verte mañana querida 😁

After you've uploaded the post, you put the passes back in the drawer. Going to the bathroom, you grabbed a jacket and wore it. You grabbed your things and left your hotel room as you headed to the elevator. When you enter the elevator, you press the button for the ground floor. Once you reach the ground floor, you head to the front desk to ask where the buffet is.  

While you walk to the front desk, you put your AirPods on. Playing the song "Take a Chance With Me." The lyrics hit you hard, knowing so much that you relate to it. Thinking to yourself, what if you saw Carlos? Even though you would see him tomorrow, you still hoped to see him. 

🎶 His laugh you'd die for, his laugh you'd die for. The kind that colors the sky 🎶

Hearing the lyrics caused you to smile as you arrived at the front desk; suddenly, a man pushed you aside aggressively, causing you to yelp. Groaning as, you felt the pain of him making you on your arm, which caused a bruise. You scoff, glaring at the guy. 

"Hey! What the hell was that for? You didn't have to push me! And to be fair, I was first. There's a line for a reason, dude."

 You roll your eyes, looking at the guy with anger. You were fuming, and boy, did he make it worse. 

"You're funny, kid; this hotel is only for rich men. What the hell is a petty little girl like you doing here?"

The man scoffs. He turns his head to the receptionist.

 "Can't you get this girl out of here?" He looks at the receptionist, disgusted, and then eyes you from head to toe. 

"Um sir, no, she's-"

 The stupid man didn't even let the receptionist finish. You scoff, stretching your arms out. You give the guy a stern look, hands on your hips, as you start talking back. 

"Rich men only? You don't own the hotel, man, and for your information. I am not a girl; I am a woman. You don't have the right to say that to me; the owner of this hotel is my father's co-worker. Yeah, and you'll be like, who could possibly be your father?" 

You say in a sarcastic tone, babbling as you coo. 

"My father is Jean Louis Dela Cruz."

While you were arguing and yapping with the guy, just across the lounge, 

A person you wouldn't expect to be there. Carlos Sainz Jr. was with Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton, and Lando Norris. They see the situation, eyes widened at how you could stand up to the guy. Lando's eyes widened as he recognized you. "

Mate! That’s Y/N Dela Cruz! The famous supermodel. How dare that stupid man talk to her like that." Lando shrugs, shaking his head.

But Carlos can't even listen. He was in awe of your beauty. How can something be so beautiful and perfect? He thought to himself. It's like time stopped, and the only thing he could see was you. Your beauty, your perfection, you. His thoughts were interrupted by Lewis nudging him. 

"Dude, are you here?"

 He laughs, noticing Carlos is lost in his own thoughts. Carlos chuckles, smiling as he nods his head. 

"Yeah, what's happening?"

 He sighs, looking at Lando, Lewis, and Charles.

"Lando was just saying that the guy there was disrespecting Y/N, the famous supermodel."

 Charles reiterated what Lando had said a while ago. 

Carlos didn't need Charles to finish his sentence once he heard the word "disrespectful and Y/N." Lewis was about to say something, but Carlos caught him off guard by storming towards you and the guy. 

"Wait, what-"

 Lewis' eyes widened seeing Carlos march over to you and the guy. Charles and Lando chuckle. They look at each other as they decide to follow him. 

Meanwhile, you were still arguing with the guy and already speaking Spanish. Angry Spanish will always work somehow. 

“¿Quién diablos te crees que eres? ¿Cómo te atreves a hablarle así a una mujer? ¡Claramente nunca te enseñaron modales! Estúpido hijo de puta.(Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you talk to a woman like that? They clearly never taught you manners! Stupid son of a bitch.)"

 You scoff angrily, giving the man a death stare. You could feel your eyes burning from anger. 

"Crazy."

 The man rolled his eyes, laughing at you as he walked away.

"QUE? WHO YOU CALLING CRAZY (WHAT? WHO YOU CALLING CRAZY?)"

You yelled, eyes widened and mouth open, still angry. Scoffing loudly, you see four men in your peripheral vision. You turn to your left, eyes widened to see Carlos, Lewis, Charles, and Lando. You furrow your eyebrows, seeing Carlos stare at you. Your eyes widened, realizing that your wish earlier had come true. The song "Take a Chance With Me by Niki" was still playing. One of the lyrics played, making you blush slightly, trying to keep your composure. 

🎶 Electricity surging in the air 🎶

"You are gorgeous, I'm Lando."

 He smiles at you playfully, going in front of Carlos and reaching his hand out for yours. 

"Stop flirting with girls, Lando."

 Lewis rolls his eyes, approaching you closer and smiling. 

"Hi, I'm Lewis."

 Charles grins, furrowing his eyebrows as he nudges Lando. 

"Sorry about Lando, I'm Charles." 

He smiles. 

"Yeah, I know you guys." I smile softly. 

"Are you okay? That guy was awful." 

Carlos smiles at you; he flutters his eyes with his pretty eyelashes. Giving you the most seductive but loving look. God, how your heart beat so fast, but you had to stay strong. 

"Yeah, men are dogs."

 you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you raised an eyebrow. 

"Meow"

 Carlos chuckles, smiling at you, making the others laugh, shocked at Carlos' flirty behavior. 

You couldn't help but chuckle, and you playfully clicked your tongue. 

"Yeah, good luck tomorrow. I'll see you."

 You smile softly, winking at him as you walk away. You let out a deep and exasperated breath. Giggling like a teenager as you saw your crush. The song "Take a Chance With Me " by Niki still played until you went back to your hotel room and went to sleep. 

Meanwhile, down at the lounge of the hotel. The guys stayed there, Lewis smiling and laughing as he teased Carlos, 

"Flirting 101."

 The others laughed along, and so did Carlos. 

"I found my charm now."

 He smiled as they all went back to their hotel rooms.

[jacksprostate]

me and @a-forsteri were talking about how the narrator like, desperately wants someone to tell him his life is fucked up, what he does is fucked up, he desperately wants someone to respond with the gravity he desires.

Like, he tells these people on the plane what he does. Trying to fuck with them. Desperately hoping!! One of them will go: holy shit!!! That's really fucked up how do you live with that!!! But all he gets is people thinking he's the freak and just asking what car company he works for. Because it is easier to pretend he himself is the problem, maybe just his company, rather than actually face and recognize the systemic, widespread nature of what he's saying.

It leans together with his sense of where he is in his office, too. He feels separate from all these people. They feel fake. They feel like people going on as normal even though they're all working to hasten the apocalypse, and no one acknowledges it! They're all perfectly happy to turn a blind eye to any of the distant consequences of their actions. That is what their jobs are for. Keep them up in the cubicles, nicely fed and watered with inflated salaries, and then they'll have no issue with the distant sense that they may be contributing to a corrupt system. They can't change the system, but they need to feed their kids, so hell, just don't think about it too much.

But he doesn't have that option. He is the one who actually does go out into the field and he sees the direct result of all of their collective actions, but especially his. Every crash related to a faulty part he sees is because someone like him before him, or him himself, ran the formula and let this happen. He has no choice but to see the very real result of his actions.

And he feels INSANE over it. Because he returns to the office and it's just numbers. Applying the formula. Hearing your coworkers chat about a potluck. You're not contributing to a horrific system, you ARE the horrific system, and it's like you're the only one who sees that. He literally cannot sleep over it.

And when you tell people about it, they try to minimize it. To your company, to you. Because that is easier than acknowledging just how many things have to be corrupt and uncaring of human life to allow this to be the case. It's too much. Stick your head in the sand.

He desperarely wants someone to scream at him: how could you do that? How could anyone do that? Why is this allowed to happen? Doesn't anyone see something wrong here?

He imagines his plane crashing. Free him from this. The burden of every piece of normality manufactured for satiating any thought and discomfort he has about his job. It's all petty, pointless fluff. It's putting some artificial grass on the feedlot. Why does everything and everyone say it's all worth it for this garbage?

He wants someone to tell him all this. He doesn't want to be alone. He already feels catastrophically alone. In his life, whenever he talks about this, whenever he does anything. He loves the support groups because you're allowed to have abject misery there. You rejoice in it. Everyone's life is falling apart and ending and nothing means anything good ever. They're all honest about it, too. He plays coy when he talks about his job, but these people, everyone knows they're falling apart, and it's recognized and treated as the horror it is. This is freedom. Hitting bottom is freedom.

But he's supposed to be happy, because he's got his cushy little IKEA nest. It is only when people think he also has cancer and parasites causing his deep dissociation from his own life and general aura of resentment and misery that it's treated as something that isn't just... an individual flaw. Because it's easier for there to be something wrong with him than for that thing wrong with him to be how society makes him be this way. Rewards him for it.

So he invents someone. Tyler. To stop his little dance. To interrupt him. Drag him away and tell him all those little sundries are meaningless. Like he knows. But now he has someone saying it's true. The world IS falling apart. Everything is fucked up. It's everything he knows and has been too cowardly to say and now he finally has someone to say it for him and push to make some changes in his life. To expect him to actually do something. To feel his rage for him. And it's a catch-22, because a large part of what he hates about himself is that he's too cowardly and noncommittal to just do this all on his own.

[alearicci]

“you're losing me, charles” – CL16.

pairings: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader(but name in fic Ann); charles leclerc x ex-girlfriend.

summary: the most difficult breaking is when you and her love each other, but the decision can no longer be changed.

warning: break up, hurt/comfort, sad, a little bit social media au.

song to read: you're losing me - taylor swift.

note: this is just my understanding of how a girl can act when parting. In your thoughts it may be different, but this is a story with my fantasy fiction and therefore, I ask you to treat it with understanding.

It was too painful to write, I feel very bad about parting with people I once loved.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Charles Leclerc was sitting on the bed, looking at a photograph of him and his girlfriend Ann standing on the bedside table. The weight of the impending decision weighed heavily on his heart. But he understood that there was no other way out. That if he didn't tell her right now, he wouldn't be able to later. Then this belated conversation can aggravate the situation and make it much worse for both her and him. Charles took the photo in his hands and took the picture out of the frame. He smiled sadly as soon as his eyes met the girl in the photo. Ann. She was always there for him and gave him sincere love. She provided him with such necessary support, gave him the opportunity to feel needed.

Charles involuntarily thought about the day when this photo was taken. It seems that it was the first time she came to a family dinner in his family. Ann immediately liked his mother and brothers, which made the racer very happy. And how can someone not like such a girl?

Charles really loved her. He loved her with all his heart.

But now his heart is asking him to let her go.

The world-famous Formula 1 racer, determined to succeed in his career, knew that sacrifices were inevitable, but he never imagined that he would have to choose between career and love.

He was so eager to become a professional driver, did everything to make his dream come true. He could stay up all night thinking about how to improve the car, he trained until he lost consciousness, he squeezed everything out of himself to succeed. But how can you live without love in our cruel world?

He dreamed of returning home after a hard workout, spending time with his beloved and telling about the past day at the racetrack. He dreamed of seeing his girlfriend in the paddock, she would be wearing his trademark cap and would glow with happiness when he crossed the finish line in the top three. He dreamed of celebrating victory until morning and knowing that his sleeping beauty was waiting for him at home.

He got it and now he will lose it of his own free will. Funny, isn't it? When you love a person and when he loves you, you don't give up on him. But this time it's different.

Ann walked slowly into the room, noticing the thoughtful expression on Charles' face and their shared photo in her hands. A certain anxiety and misunderstanding of the whole situation filled her eyes as she walked towards him.

"Honey, what's wrong? I don't recognize you lately. Are you okay?"

Charles took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. It turned out pretty damn bad. He couldn't bring himself to say those terrible words.

"Ann, we need to talk. Please sit down."

Ann sat down next to him, her hand gently touching his arm.

"Of course, Charles. What is it?"

He gently stroked her fingers with his own, finding solace in her touch before breaking the news that would destroy her in just a couple of seconds. And, it is unlikely that he will ever be able to touch her like that again.

"I... I think we should break up."

Ann's eyes widened in disbelief, she let out a nervous laugh and muttered.

"Break up? Charles, are you kidding? I don't really feel like laughing."

Charles plucked up the courage to look into her eyes, his own eyes were full of uncharacteristic sadness, because at any other time his eyes were filled with a mischievous sparkle.

"No, Ann, I'm not kidding. Damn it."

Charles exhaled heavily and bit his lower lip.

"What... What did I do wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

"It's not about you. It's about me and my career. Formula 1 requires a huge level of dedication, and also requires me to always be focused and ready for any turns. I'm not able to properly combine common sense on the track and feelings for you. I just... not worthy of you, you know? I want to spend more time with you so that we can be a normal couple like everyone else, go on frequent dates, stay up all night, dance until morning, but I can't. I'm sorry, but my decision is well thought out and I won't change it."

Ann's voice was shaking with pain. She couldn't believe it would end like this. That he had told her in plain text that she meant nothing to him. That he chooses himself, not them, or even her.

"So you prefer the race to me, right?"

Charles tightened his grip on her hand, his heart clenched in pain from the decision he had made.

"I don't want to lose you, Ann. But I can't ignore the pressure to perform, to constantly give my best on the track. I never wanted this, honey. I never meant to hurt you. But our careers, our aspirations pull us in different directions. The demanding nature of my profession and constant travel do not allow me to give you the time and attention you deserve."

Tears were still gathering in the corners of Ann's eyes as she hurriedly removed her hand from Charles' palm.

"You're losing me, Leclerc. As soon as I started this conversation. If you can't handle everything, then I don't think you really needed me. I thought we could support each other, Charles. I believed that we could handle this together. But it looks like it was all in vain."

Charles swallowed noisily and shouted nervously.

"Ann, our love is sincere and strong, but the reality of my profession is inexorable. Constant travel, intense training, demands on my time... it would be unfair to ask you to wait for me, to put your life on pause."

Charles paused, his voice choked with emotion, and Ann was silent, still trying to be strong.

There was emptiness inside.

With a heavy sigh, he gathered his thoughts and continued: "I don't want to keep you from your dreams, from the opportunities that lie ahead of you. You deserve someone who can be there for you, who can give you the love and support you need. And right now I can't be that person, no matter how much I want to be."

He automatically took Anne's slightly trembling hands in his again, squeezing them to comfort her. To comfort not only her, but also myself.

"Please understand that this decision is also tearing me apart. It's not because I don't love you, but because I love you enough to know it's the right thing to do. We both deserve real happiness and satisfaction, even if it means that our paths diverge."

Ann nodded, trying to smile as sincerely as possible. She knew she couldn't change Charles's mind, but she couldn't not defend her honor. Finally, she abruptly pushed Charles's hands off her own, causing him to round his eyes in surprise and said.

"If this is what you really think is best for your career, Charles, then I won't stand in your way. I hope that you will achieve the success you are striving for. Good luck.

Ann got out of bed and went to the closet to pack her things.

"Ann..."

Charles stood behind her and wanted to hold out his hand to calm her down.

"Silence, Leclerc. Silence. Let me pack my things and get out of your house. And out of your life. I will remain in it only in memories. As your friend said... Daniel, I think his name is. No regrets, only memories. Right. "

Ann's voice traitorously broke from nervous overstrain, which made both her and Charles start in fright.

When Charles reluctantly let Ann go, he couldn't help but wonder if the price he had paid was too high and if success on the racetrack would ever bring him the same joy and happiness that Ann had once brought.

Ann left an hour after their conversation. It took Charles a long time to get used to the idea that she would not come back.

Everything reminds him of her.

Everything reminds her of him.

As soon as Ann got to her apartment, she didn't cry or break the dishes. She went to her Instagram, deleted all joint photos with Charles from her profile and posted a post with a single phrase.

hahaitsann

liked by carlossainz55, arianagrande and 234.379 others

hahaitsann my heart won't start anymore for you

view all 1881 comments

arianagrande: babe are u ok?

⇾hahaitsann: happier than ever

carlossainz55: fck. ann you're alright?

⇾ hahaitsann: of course, ca, don't worry:)

danielricciardo: ann are you home? I will come now.

⇾ hahaitsann: ouuh. no need, dan, tysm.

kellypiquet: girl I'm here

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, fancharles1 and other 1.290.300

charles_leclerc i can't find a pulse.

view all 12.328 comments

landonorris: you guys are scaring me, what happened?

⇾ charles_leclerc: nothing just an incident

carlossainz55: charles, can you go to direct and answer me?

fancharles1: WHA-A-AT

⇾ carlossainz55: same reaction mate

sofiestay: I hope you're all right, Charles.

lec16lerc: god what happened?

16charlec: did you and Ann break up?

⇾ janerttb: I think yes, they both don't have pictures in their profiles together. Did you see Ann's post?

⇾ 16charlec: no. but. wtf.

So that's what was supposed to happen. It hurts, yes. But you have to be a strong girl.

[ghouloflove]

when worlds collide (pt 3)

[ in other words, the only female member of the biggest korean band in the world goes to formula 1 race in monaco with a friend; only to meet a certain ferrari driver. ]

paring: charles leclerc x fem!fc/c (reader is an idol)

plot note(s): f1 season 2023 has a changed schedule of tracks but follows along with the dates the same. google translated korean, french and italian. charles is having a good season this universe because he deserves it! the fc is soyeon from (G)-IDLE—kept her name expect it’s “Kim Soy.”

authors note: thank you all so much for this likes and reblogs on my last two parts of this mini series! its so appreciated :) seriously thank youuuu <3 i honestly still kinda have inspiration surrounding this certain plot so let me know if you’d be interested it :) like “extras” of writing and “mini” social media—i already have an idea on why the revealing was so quick but idk….again let me know AND BIG THANK YOU AGAIN! (also send some ideas/requests, i wouldn’t mind making another one of these when i can!)

one more thing, soyeon is you. you are that bitch. or she can simply be an “character”. it’s up to you, dear reader.

—enjoy.

part one. part two. 

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[ instagram ]

s0ye0nnn

liked by rkive, charles_lelcerc, agust_d, wi_wi_wi, and 5,094,376 others

s0ye0nnn 나는 결코 잊지 않을 것. (translation: i will never forget.)

view 2,987,909 comments

augustd hm

s0ye0nnssloots ayo aint that monaco? 

k.f1.pop Omfgggg aint no way, first Charles creates a piece of meeting then her caption of never forgetting?? IN MONACO HUH....

charles_leclerc naui haeng-un-ui bujeog 🤍 (translation: my lucky charm)

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn 

view all 56,908 replies

charchar16 him writing in romanizated korean !!!! 😭 that's so fuckung cuteeeee

taehy101 oh so youre learnign  korean now...?!?!? 

_________________________________________________

theformula1gossips

liked by k.f1.pop, s0ye0nnnssloots, and 509,429 others

theformula1gossips CHARLES LECLERC may be off the market and a new WAG may have just joined the tracks. Over the first week of the two week wait for the next race, Charles has been spotted back home in Monaco--always saying hello to his supporters and spending time with his family and his friends. Just recently, his childhood friend Jorsi has posted a photo dump to his instagram stories of “Vacation with Friends”, and in the fifth story, it seems to be Charles and a mystery woman. Both seem deep into a conversation with what looks like a book. Later into the night of the same day, Charles posts to his instagram story, captioned of “🤍 séance photo à domicile” which translated is “photo session at home”. Well...we say mystery woman but with who has been spotted around and Charles heavily interacting with--it may just be Kim Soyeon--who has recently posted to her instagram with photos containing the same background and her at the beach of Monaco. None have said anything, and in fact, supporters of hers have come to back her up, stating, “They are simply friends. Soyeon always tries to support her friends 100% and visit her friends whenever she can!” While some are on the fence, considering his story a couple days back of an new piece he has created (piano) with the caption of “melody of first meeting” and what people (Soyeon’s supporters) say is that the female voice at the end was hers. Could it be Soyeon? If so, is she simply visiting a close friend or Ferrari boyfriend, Charles? We may have our first K-pop Idol as a WAG coming soon! 

view 203,908 comments 

k.f1.pop this is getting juicy wtf...but also I will sleep on the freeway if this tire cuz like if CHARLES, drive in circles on the weekend, can PULL THE KIM SOYEON, the ACE OF ALL ACES, record breakerndnnsfufu why ARENT I PULLING?!?!?!?

s0ye0nnnssloots I really wanna fuckign defend her because its true....she really is just that friend always there for her friends and everything but like....girly is acting too much of a lovergirl rn 

view 6 replies

thed.daysarehere how is she acting like a lovergirl rn??😭

↳ s0ye0nnnssloots idkkk😭 just like the caption on her recent post....its like a response to charles new piano piece ???

k.f1.pop Just realized jorsi covered the shoulders of the woman....soyeon has a tattoo right there -_-

thef1beastmaxxxx well....this is the downfall of Formula 1. thanks a lot, kpoopies.

apsycho4u im on the line tbh, cuz yeah she is a good firend but also she never fails to post abt it n her friends always post jusy being with her so idk what’s different….also put respect on her name!

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[ twitter ]

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[ instagram ]

s0ye0nnn

tagged charles_leclerc, agustd, j.m, thv

liked by rkive, agustd, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 6,329,820 others

s0ye0nnn from monaco to korea 🎵 (airplane pt 3)

but really, i am so proud of my best friend, agust d. one of the most important person in my life. seeing him up there truly was an experience. a strange one, but oh so thrilling.

계속 빛나, 민윤기. 음악에서. 인생에서. 당신이 원하는 것에.

(translation: keep shining, min yoongi. in music. in life. to what you want.)

view 2,463,928 comments

agustd 작은 곰. 🐻‍❄️🤍

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

danielricciardo How come charles met otto before me? We literally facetimed him when we were hanging out?

view all 103,839 replies

s0ye0nnn catch flight to korea before its grand prix ;)

s0ye0nnnssloots CHALRE S MET OTTO!?! ONFGGGG IM CYRING FOR TWO REAOSNS

charles_leclerc À l'un des nombreux 🤍 (translation: To one of many)

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

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s0ye0nnn Je suis content de vous avoir rencontré! 🤍 (translation: im glad to have met you!)

charchar16 SHE ONOWSS FRENCH

k.f1.pop yeah!!! her uncle is married to a french girl!! so growing up, she learned the language and has been able to keep up:))

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letsgossip_kpop

liked by k.f1.pop, s0ye0nnnssloots, and 809,734 others

letsgossip_kpop [ ADMIN 🌱 IS HERE TO TELL THE LATEST GOSSIP:

The dating rumors between Kim Soyeon of BTS and Charles Leclerc, Ferrari driver in Formula 1, has not dwindled despite a small talk between Soyeon and few supporters. In the past few days after her last post on instagram, she has posted to her story—twice yesterday and one today. Out of the three, two are quite juicy. The first being a WIP (Work in Progress) of what seems to be a love song! “Dead end street lead you straight to me […] thankful for all the love you had before, […] love you more.” Supporters have even noticed the background seems all too similar to a Ferrari racing car. The another of her in a Ferrari racing helmet with the song “Ferrari” by James Hype and Miggy Dela Rosa! Tagging Charles who then reposts to his story with the caption: “☺️🤍”. With all these posts since her first Grand Prix, they are beginning to look like Soyeon has found her friends to lovers trope in the Ferrari driver—who does not seem to mind the attention this has bought on! We’ll keep you posted on the progress! ]

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k.f1.pop i genuinely believe they are dating and soyeons is the one keeping it “low” using the friends card…perhaps they JUST started dating?? like when she didnt attend?

s0ye0nnnssloots im kinda on the edge tbh—cause it was vv suspicious when she wasnt posting abt him and just her trip with these captions but now she’s openly posting him?? she ALWAYS tends to do that with her friends so :////

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thed.daysarehere I agree!!! plus with the love song, she said on her “AMA!” on IG stories like a few months back that she wanted to try other things with music like love songs!! And she reads books ALOT so maybe one of them inspired her??

mastersof.f1_ he got madddd game if he could pull a woman like her 😅

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charles_leclerc

tagged s0ye0nnn

liked by s0ye0nnn, danielricciardo, lilymhe, rkive, and 2,034,729

charles_leclerc monaco has always been special to me. it is my home after all. but who knew that a woman so incredible—talented, stunning and just purely the version of an actual star would come to my home and i would get to meet her. well, i didn’t but it happened. it happened and i’m very happy. happiest i have been in awhile. to being yours and you being mine.

Je suis éternellement reconnaissant de vous avoir 🤍 (translation: i am eternally grateful to have you.)

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danielricciardo Mate, no photo credits for the last one!? I had to suffer through your lovey-dovey antics for that photo! (it was disgustingly cute but made me feel so lonely…)

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charles_leclerc your comment is credit enough :)

charcharof16 HE KNWSS!?!

lewishamilton ❤️ congratulations, much love

carlossainz55 What moves did you pull on her? 😂 But happy for you!

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charles_leclerc Mate, I’m actually quite charming if you didn’t see that—but even I don’t count it towards having her with me! 😊

s0ye0nnnssloot mansss is even confused himself lol

rkive :) ❤️

↳ liked by charles_leclerc, and s0ye0nnn

s0ye0nnn tu es mon amant, et je ne peux pas être plus heureux 🤍 (translation: you are my lover and i couldn’t be happier.)

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charles_leclerc Soon I will learn your language and I will say back to you as you do for me :) 🤍

k.f1.pop FUCKIGN WUIT THIS SHIT STOP STOP 😭😭

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s0ye0nnn

tagged charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, rkive, agustd, wi_wi_wi, lilymhe, and 6,083,193 others

s0ye0nnn and suddenly i found myself writing songs of you. about us. i’m so glad i went to the grand prix because that path lead me to you. a genuine and pure soul who has allowed me to open myself to you and be given the same amount of gentle love and happiness.

나의 뮤즈, 당신은 나의 사랑입니다 🤍 (translation: my muse, you are my love).

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rkive 🐻‍❄️ as lovergirl

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s0ye0nnn yes <3

s0ye0nnnssloots he knows whatsup!!!

lilymhe it’s happened, its happened!!! ❤️❤️

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

agustd 행복 🤍 (translation: happiness)

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s0ye0nnn pure.

thed.daysarehere im remembering his birthday message to her rn 😭 “if something makes you happy, my little bear, keep it and hold it close.” !!!

charles_leclerc I’m so happy to be yours, 내 사랑 🤍 (translation: my love)

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

s0ye0nnn giggling 🤭

charcharof16 HES LEANTING KORENA ??? “MY LVOE”!?! DHOENED

cammenmmundt the sweetest girl with the sweetest words!!! so so happy for you both!!! can’t wait to see you again!!! ❤️❤️🥹

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

scuderiaferrari Wow, was not on our bingo card for our year but hey! Soyeon is the 🎵 typa girl 🎵 we wanted for our driver Charles 😉

s0ye0nnnssloot BTHE SONG REFERENCE 🤭 admin is a soyeon stan?

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letsgossip_kpop

liked by k.f1.pop, s0ye0nnnssloots, charchar16, and 739,023 others

letsgossip_kpop [ YOUR ADMIN 🌱 IS SCREAMING THIS NEW GOSSIP!:

Alas what was simply updating on the new hobby Soyeon picked up with sudden wave of rumors— turns out to be the friends to lovers trope Soyeon has been deeply fond of all these years! Yes that is right, Kim Soyeon and Charles Leclerc (Ferrari driver) has announced they are happily dating on the day before pre-qualification for the Grand Prix! Each posted a photo dump of each other with sweet messages as captions but one thing was clear; they are grateful for finding each other and having the opportunity to be each others love!

Soyeon arrived on the scene during the pre-qualification (PHOTO 1) seemingly pleased and content to be there. It wasn’t long until Charles found her and they shared a sweet kiss before heading to the Ferrari garage. He achieved 3rd on that day. The next day (PHOTO 2), Soyeon was seen being interviewed by some of the media—the sweet smile and shining eyes never disappearing. Of course, the couple seemed absolutely smitten with each other, never not far behind from each other until his race—in which he achieved P1! That would be his 4th P1 of the season! Soyeon soon posted to her instagram story; “(HIS IG) p1 🤍 so unbelievably proud of you!”. The caption could not be more true after being projected onto the big screen of her smiling, teary eyed.

This may not have at all been our bingo cards of the year—but we sure are loving to see Soyeon in love and happier than ever! We wish them the best of love in their relationship :) # SOYEONXLECLERC !

view 302,830 comments

k.f1.pop HE FUCKIGB PULLED HERB!?! AYOOO WHERE SMY GAME !?

charcharof16 ….can he fight? can that mf fight cause my clothes going be red and it aint because its ferrari merch…

maxverstap.01 I WANNA KNOW THE dirvers REANCITN TO THOS SHIT!!! LIKE SONE OEN IN THE MEDIA PEN ASK PLS PLS

formulaone000 well….this is officially the end of formula one, cannot believe this shit, f u kpoopies

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s0ye0nnnssloots aw baby man, soyeon is already fucking a formula one driver 💋

thed.daysarehere I cannot wait until Hobi n Jin get a wave of this shit 😭😭

likecrzy4u Grand Prix of South Korea when??? BTS main performance???? Charles being a fucking simp seeing his …..gir-girlfriend ☹️ do her thiinnnggggg ??? LMKKKK

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song(s) referenced and used:

All The Girls You Loved Before - Taylor Swift

Typa Girl - Blackpink

authors final note(s):

so this is the end-ish? it depends how im feeling and if anyone is interested in any extras! but yeah, this has been fun and quite possibly the reason for my procrastination on my summer class :/ though i’m willing doing this because it honestly was such an little pest in head and also the first part gained really good attention that i wanted to continue so i did. again thank you so so so much. the likes and reblogs are always such a nice thing to see and genuinely makes me feel so good!

~ and the world is yours, until next time.

[harley-sunday]

August Rush [09]

Summary: You’ve known Carlos for almost as long as you have been working in Formula One but you never expected it would take you seven years and a concussion to realise that maybe you like him as more than just a friend.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x reader (OFC nicknamed Pip) | Max Verstappen x reader (best friends)

Warnings: Language. NSFW. 18+. It gets a little- Intense, ok? Ok. 

Word count: 5.8k

AN: I guess four months between updates is how I roll now… But no, seriously, it’s been a long four months, believe me, I know. I have been (very publicly) struggling with getting this next part written but it finally happened. Today. Weird. Anyway. More good news - the next part is almost done as well. I don’t know how that happened either. So yeah, what was originally going to be a four-part story has now turned into a ten-parter that I love with all my heart. I hope you do too. Please feel free to come yell at me in the comments :) ♥

Masterlist

The sound of your alarm pulls you out of a deep sleep but before you have the chance to reach over Carlos to grab your phone from the night stand he’s already turned it off and mutters something that sounds like, “Too early.”

“I know,” you whisper as you slide one of your legs in between his and snuggle into him, “but I have that press release to put out, remember?”

“Hmm,” he agrees half-heartedly and presses a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you. “Isn’t that at ten?”

“It’s getting sent out at ten,” you reply in a whisper, feeling your eyes getting heavy again, “but I have to brief Graham and Franz before that. We have a call at-” you let out a yawn and feel Carlos tighten his arms around you, “-at nine.” 

 “It’s only seven-”

“I wanted to be prepared,” you try to counter, but you know it’s a losing battle. Dinner with Carlos’ parents was always going to be a long affair but after Carlos told them you were dating, the champagne came out and you didn’t make it back home until at least two in the morning. 

Carlos reaches behind him and unlocks his phone, “I’m setting my alarm for eight-fifteen, ok?”

“Hmm-”

“Hmm,” he echoes, pressing another kiss to your hair. “I just want to have my girlfriend to myself a little longer, cariño. Is that so bad?”

“Must be nice, “ you mutter against his chest.

Carlos lets out a quiet laugh, “What?”

“Must be nice to be your girlfriend,” you whisper as you put your hand up to his face and let your fingers dance over his temple and into his hair.

He chuckles and turns his face towards your hand, kissing the inside of your palm, “I sure hope it is.” 

***

“That’s everything,” you tell Graham and Franz, the team manager and team principal of Alpha Tauri, after about fifteen minutes or so of briefing them. “We will send out the press release, add your statement to it, Graham, and if they have any further questions we will redirect them to the press conference on Thursday.” 

“Sounds good,” Graham says with a nod. “See you on Tuesday then.” 

“Yep,” you give him a quick wave and watch as he ends the video call, not surprised he doesn’t stick around for some chitchat. Graham is a busy man and in the almost seven years you’ve worked together he’s always been like this, always very much straight to the point.  

It’s just you and Franz then, the older man leaning back in his chair and scrutinising you from his home office in Trins. He looks at you with a mischievous smile when he asks, “So-'' he draws out the word, “-how was your summer?”

“Good,” you admit easily enough, but also hoping it will deflect any further questions he might have. Unlike Graham, who is much more guarded, Franz is an open book and expects the same from everyone in the garage, whether it be his drivers or any supporting staff, and so you offer, “Except for the concussion, of course, but I got cleared by the doctor this week so-”

“Back to normal,” Franz offers.

“Back to normal,” you agree with a smile. 

Franz nods, “Good. I’ll see you on Tuesday, yeah?”

‘Yes sir,” you confirm with a nod, knowing this is his way to politely let you know the call is over. It’s ok, you still have to call Pierre and Yuki anyway, so you can remind them of what to say should the press contact them. They’ve already received all the information from you in an email last Thursday but there’s a fifty percent chance they’ve actually read it, so you like to make sure they know what you expect of them. 

When Franz says his goodbyes and ends the call, you lean back in your chair, mentally preparing yourself for the ball of raging energy that is Yuki Tsunoda.

***

Once you’ve logged off you make your way to the kitchen where you find Reyes at the breakfast bar, enjoying a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. She looks up at you with a smile, “Good morning, mija.” 

“Morning,” you reply, mirroring her smile. After you help yourself to coffee and some breakfast you sit down across from her, not surprised when Piñon sits down next to you, hoping for some treats no doubt. You give him a quick scratch, “Hi buddy.”

“He likes you,” Reyes says as she watches you from across the table. “He doesn’t always, you know?” You must look a little confused because she quickly explains, “With Carlos’ last girlfriend, he didn’t really care, never really went to her for attention but with you it’s different. He seems very-” she searches for the right word, “- attuned to you.” 

You can’t help but smile, taking the paw Piñon offers you in your hand, “Good thing I like him too then.” When you let go you look at Reyes, “Maybe it’s because I’ve first met him when he was just a puppy-”

“No,” Reyes quickly interrupts, shaking her head. “It’s not that, I think. He sees you as part of his pack. Like he knows you belong with Carlos.”

Your heart melts when Piñon lets out a quiet whine, as if he wants you to know he agrees with Reyes, and so you pat your lap and wait until he puts his front paws on your legs before you press a kiss to the side of his head, “Aw, I love you too, buddy.” 

Reyes smiles as she takes a sip of her coffee. She leans back in her chair then, “So, I think the boys will be out for most of the day-” She lets out a sigh, “I don’t understand what it is about golf they like so much but at least it gives us a chance to do something fun with just us two, right?” She waits until you nod before she continues, “I have a friend who has a beauty salon in Canyamel, I could call and see if she can squeeze us in for a massage and facial today?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agree easily enough. 

***

It’s almost five when you finally drive back from Canyamel, feeling more relaxed than you have in a while. Next to you Reyes is quietly singing along to some Spanish song on the radio and not for the first time you wish summer break could have lasted just a little longer. You like being here, not just with Carlos but with his parents as well. It’s so- It’s so easy somehow, like you’ve been a part of their family for years already. Technically you guess you have, after all you first met Carlos and his parents in December of 2014, when they came to Faenza for a factory tour at Toro Rosso.

Max was there for the tour as well but he only brought his father and it wasn’t until the Spa Grand Prix the following season that you first met Sophie and his sister Victoria, taking an immediate liking to the two women in Max’s life. His father was a different story and it took you a while to realise he was all bark and no bite. 

From the moment Carlos Sr. and Jos met each other however there was some serious tension between them, Carlos Sr. being the more calculated of the two while Jos was always much more emotional. Sometimes you’re still surprised Max and Carlos even became friends with their fathers looming over them so much those first few years.

“Where’s your head at?”

You look at Reyes and smile, “Just thinking back to when I first met Carlos, back in Faenza. God, we were so young back then-” 

Reyes lets out a laugh, “You still are.” She puts her hand on your arm then and gives it a gentle squeeze, “This is only the start, mija. Just wait and see.”

***

By the time you make it back to the house Carlos and his dad have returned from the golf course and are enjoying a cold beer on one of the lounge sets on the side of the house. When Carlos sees you his eyes light up and he holds out his free hand to you, “You look amazing, cariño.” 

You give Carlos a kiss before you sit down on his lap, leaning into him when he wraps his arm around your waist, “Thank you. I feel very relaxed." 

“How was golf?” Reyes sits down next to Carlos Sr. and pats his knee, “You boys play nice?” 

“Always,” Carlos Sr. shoots back with a grin that suggests he’s not telling the whole truth. “Right, Carlito?”

“Hmm,” Carlos agrees before taking a sip of his beer. He lets out a heavy sigh then, “Papà won. Twice.” 

“Ai,” you say as you press a kiss to his temple, pouting a little then for some added drama. “You ok, babe?” 

“I’ve been better,” Carlos deadpans, throwing his father a look that you know means he wants a rematch soon. 

Both you and Reyes laugh, Reyes flicking her husband’s arm with her thumb and middle finger, “You need to let him win every now and then, mi amor.” She winks at Carlos then, “Just like he does with chess.” 

Carlos lets out a laugh when he sees his father’s shocked expression but doesn’t say anything, simply raises his beer before he takes another sip, “Cheers, papà.”

Carlos Sr. says something in Spanish that you don’t quite catch but that makes Carlos laugh even harder while Reyes tuts and shakes her head. She turns to her husband then, “Did you guys at least get everything for dinner like I asked you to?”

“Sì, mi vida,” Carlos Sr. answers as he takes Reyes’ hand and brings it to his lips. “Like you asked.”

“Good.” Reyes gets up then and pulls Carlos Sr. with her, “Help me get dinner started?”

“Of course.” Carlos Sr. puts his beer down and follows his wife to the kitchen.

“Dinner at eight?” Reyes suggests from over her shoulder. “The meat needs at least two hours to cook, so-”

“Eight is fine,” Carlos says with a kind smile before he looks at you, “We can take Piñon for a walk in the meantime.” 

***

“Come on,” Carlos holds out his hand to you and helps you down a particularly large rock and onto the sand. He’s taken you to Cala Rotja, one of the few sandy beaches around Cap d’es Pinar and about a thirty-minute walk from the house. Piñon’s already running towards the water, barking excitedly at the waves whenever they roll up on the beach. 

“This is beautiful,” you say to no one in particular as you take your shoes off and enjoy the sand between your toes, the beach empty except for an older man fishing on the rocks further down. The bay is surrounded by large rocks and pine trees and the water is an incredible blue colour that you wish you could capture in a photo. 

“It doesn’t compare to you,” Carlos says from behind you as he wraps his arms around your waist and lets his chin rest on your shoulder.

“Oh, nice one, Sainz,” you tease. “I see why they call you the Smooth Operator.” 

He chuckles and squeezes you closer, foregoing his usual witty comeback for a much sweeter, “I mean it though.” Before you have a chance to say anything he continues, “So I was thinking-”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking his hands so you can turn around and face him. “What were you thinking about?”

“Tomorrow is our last day together, right?” He waits until you nod before he continues, “I want it to be special, just you and me-”

“But you’re parents are here-”

“Ssh,” he puts a finger to your lips and laughs when you pretend to bite it. “I already talked to them, they are fine with it.”

“With what?”

He tuts, “So impatient-” When you raise an eyebrow at him he quickly continues, “I’m not going to tell you everything because it is a surprise. But I need you to pack your things already today so we can leave after breakfast tomorrow and I can drop you off at the airport on Monday.”

“So,” you draw out, “we’re not coming back here?”

“Nope,” he says and kisses your nose. “We’ll have breakfast with mamà and papà tomorrow morning and then we leave. Piñon stays with them, so it’s only you and me, cariño.” 

“Hmm,  you hum again. “I’d like that.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree easily enough as you let your lips ghost over his. “I’d like that very much.”

***

Dinner is another drawn-out affair but still time flies by and before you know it it’s after midnight and Reyes and Carlos Sr. get up to go to bed. You offer to clear the rest of the table together with Carlos and so you find yourself loading the dishwasher not much later. 

“That’s everything,” Carlos says as he hands you the salad bowl and two more wine glasses. He waits until you’ve selected the program, put the tablet in and close the door before he takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom, shutting off the lights in the house as you go along. 

You can’t help but yawn when you step into the bedroom and laugh when Carlos throws you a look, “Sorry, I’m just-” another yawn, “-I’m just tired, I guess.” 

“That’s ok,” he says with a mischievous grin and puts his hands on your hips, “we can make up for that tomorrow.” He leans in then, pressing butterfly kisses all over your face and you feel him smile against your skin.

“Hmm,” you sigh contently, tilting your head back when he moves down from your jaw to your neck. You run your hands through his hair and push yourself against him, “I could probably stay awake a little longer.” 

He chuckles at your suggestion, his warm breath hitting the skin just above your collarbone, and moves his hands to your face and cups your cheeks, making you look at him. Even in the dim light you can see his pupils are blown and so for a moment you think you may have won him over but then he presses a chaste kiss to your lips and shakes his head, “Tomorrow, mi amor.” 

***

“It was really good to see you again, mija,” Reyes says as she smooths down your hair before she lets her hands rest on your shoulders. “We will see you in Monza, ok?”

You nod and pull her in for a hug, “Can’t wait. Thank you, Reyes. For everything.”

“Ah, nonsense,” she replies and shakes her head. She pulls you even closer then and whispers, “No se lo digas a nadie, tú siempre has sido mi favorita.” 

You know enough Spanish to understand what she says and so you can’t help but smile, “Gracias.” 

She lets go of you and takes a step aside, Carlos Sr. stepping forward then. He kisses your cheek before he gives you a hug, “See you soon, sweetheart.”

"See you soon," you reply as you let go of him. 

Carlos is already waiting by the car and so you join him, smiling at him as he holds the door open for you. You hear him tell his parents he'll see them tomorrow before he sits down and looks at you, "Ready?"

You smile and nod, "Ready."

***

He still doesn't want to say where he's taking you, keeps saying you'll find out soon enough and so you sit back and enjoy the drive that takes you from Son Servera to Manacor to Algaida to- "We're going to Palma?"

Next to you Carlos nods, "Yes. I couldn't let you leave without visiting here first."

You sit up in your seat and lean forward a little, taking in the city appearing in front of you as Carlos navigates through the narrow streets with ease before he pulls up to a beautiful building marked 'Es Princep' which turns out to be your hotel for the night.

The room they've assigned you is a suite on the top floor with an amazing sea view and entirely too much space for just the two of you. There's an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne waiting for you on the balcony and even though it's only just after twelve you let Carlos pour you a glass, whispering a quiet, "Thank you," when he hands it to you.

He puts his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your temple before he touches his glass against yours, "Cheers, cariño. To us."

"To us," you echo with a smile.

Carlos lets go of you then and sits down on one of the chairs, patting his lap. Once you've sat down he tells you, "I have made dinner reservations for eight tonight but that's the only thing we've got planned today. We can do whatever you like."

You look at him with one eyebrow raised and can't help but laugh when his eyes darken as you say, "Whatever I like, huh?" You take another sip of your champagne, letting the glass dangle between your fingers then as you lean against him, "I would feel really bad if we came all this way and all I would see was the inside of our hotel room-"

Carlos swallows hard, "Don't forget the restaurant."

"-and the restaurant," you continue with a sigh for some added drama. Reaching out you take his wrist in your hand and look at his watch, "Then again, it is still early-"

You don't even get to finish your sentence because by then Carlos has already taken both your glasses and put them on the table before he picks you up and carries you back inside bridal style.

"Carlos!" You playfully slap his chest, "What are you doing?"

"Making sure we don't lose any more time," he replies, growling almost.

***

"Oh, fuck, right there, baby," you pant as Carlos latches on to your clit with his mouth, his tongue circling around your sensitive bud as he scissors you open with two fingers. Your hands are in his hair, holding him there where you need him most, with your knees pulled up to give him better access. 

He groans against your skin, looking up at you with hooded eyes, and you can just tell from the way his eyes crinkle that he's smiling. He pumps a little faster and watches as you start to come undone, biting down ever so slightly as you hook your feet over his shoulders to pull him even closer.

"Carlos, I'm gonna-" You try to warn him but it's no use, the orgasm that has been building ever since he put his fingers inside of you now washing over you, wave after wave of pure pleasure making you tremble, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let yourself go slack.

His fingers still inside of you but his mouth is still going, helping you get down from your high with the utmost care. Once he's satisfied you're back on earth he kisses the inside of your thigh before he pushes himself up so he can capture your mouth in a kiss.

You're still trying to catch your breath and so your lips are parted and when he slips his tongue inside and licks the inside of your cheek you get to taste yourself and it's filthy and hot and maybe you won't make it out of this hotel room after all because you need him inside of you. Now. You pull back a little, your lips barely touching his when you tell him, "I need you."

He grins against your mouth, his fingers now circling one of your nipples, "Patience, mami." 

"Carlos-" you warn him, taking his lower lip between your teeth and pulling on it slightly. You gently bit down to make your point, "Now."

He seems to get the urgency and starts to push himself off, but you stop him with another kiss.

"I'm on the pill," you try, not sure if he'll agree with what you're suggesting, "and tested. I'm good if you're-"

He curses in Spanish before he pulls back and looks at you, pupils blown wider than you've ever seen, "I'm tested and clean too." He kisses you with a renewed hunger, "You sure?"

"Very," you whisper and let your nails rake over his back as he positions himself. When he looks at you then you nod, "Make me yours."

He does.

It's fast, a need behind his thrusts that leaves you breathless in a matter of seconds. He buries himself deeper and deeper inside of you every single time and it isn't long before you feel your second orgasm coming and you can tell from the way Carlos' moves become more and more deliberate that he isn't far behind. 

"Keep going," you breathe, letting out a loud moan then when he suddenly hits the right spot. "Right there, don't stop, don't-"

"Oh fuck." Carlos is panting now and slows down just enough so he can pull out all the way before he slams back into you again. 

"Almost there, baby," you tell him, sneaking your hand in between your bodies so you can rub your clit. It's then your orgasm hits and you can feel your walls clench around him and fuck, it feel so good. You watch Carlos, know he's right on the edge, and so you put your free hand on his cheek, "Come for me, papi."

***

You make it out of the hotel room eventually, a little self conscious because you're still a bit sore and you feel like everyone can tell what you and Carlos were doing earlier and so you hide behind your sunglasses as you stroll towards the cathedral. It feels almost sinful going in there- After. 

Carlos must feel the same way because when you reach the entrance he hesitates for just a second before he makes the sign of a cross and then steps inside anyway, pulling you along with him.

"Oh, wow." You look up in awe, admiring the way the sun hits the stained glass windows and casts a colourful glow throughout the open space surrounding you. "It's beautiful."

You take your time walking around the church before you stop at a small altar where you light a candle for the people you hold close to your heart. Next to you Carlos does the same and you stand together in silence for a bit, both of you a little lost in thoughts. When he takes your hand in his again not much later you're surprised to find him looking at you with his eyes glossed over and so you lean into him and give his hand a squeeze, "I love you."

He swallows hard and nods but doesn't say it back and for a moment there's this evil little voice inside your head that tells you it's because he doesn't feel the same way, but he presses a kiss to your temple then that makes you believe he does.

Once you're outside again he guides you through the small streets to the town square where you stop for a coffee for him and an ice cream for you. There's an endless stream of people walking by, mostly tourists, and you enjoy watching everyone go about their day, sometimes commenting on something that catches your eye. 

From the town square you slowly loop back towards the sea, stopping at a few cute shops you pass along the way, before you walk back to your hotel over the boardwalk and through a small park. 

It's almost seven when you make it back to your room and so you take a quick shower and get changed into one of the dresses you bought, a colourful maxi dress that you know goes well with the pale blue button down shirt Carlos is wearing, and pairing it with your trusted sandals. You opt for some light makeup and a simple hairstyle, yet Carlos still lets out a low whistle when you step out of the bathroom.

"You look gorgeous," he says with a proud smile and holds out his hand. "Ready to go?"

***

The restaurant he takes you to is only a short walk from the hotel and when you get there you're somehow not surprised to have the chef greet you personally after Carlos has let you know he's a good friend of his father. 

There are only a handful of tables scattered throughout the restaurant, each far enough apart from the other to offer some privacy, but still you're glad to get a table that's almost hidden away in an alcove. The chef introduces himself as Santi and tells you he's prepared a seven course menu just for you and Carlos as he pours you each a glass of champagne and tells you to enjoy your evening.

As always, the conversation between you and Carlos flows effortlessly and at times it feels as though you're the only ones here. He seems a little on edge at times though, but it's probably because the second half of the season is about to start, you decide after Carlos declines a second glass of wine and orders a water instead.

The food is amazing, each course better than the one before and yet the portions are small enough to let you keep your appetite. By the time you've finished the last course it's close to midnight and despite enjoying yourself immensely you can feel your eyes starting to grow tired. 

Carlos seems to pick up on it and reaches over the table for your hand, "We can go back if you like?"

"Hmm," you agree quietly. "I think we should."

"Before we go though," Carlos says and pulls back his hand, reaching for something in the pocket of his jacket that's draped over the back of his chair. He takes out a small, rectangular box and hands it to you, "I have something for you." He looks up at you, "I know you want to wait to tell anyone in the paddock about us but-" he smiles a shy smile, "I just want you to know that you're mine."

You carefully open the box and gasp when you see what's inside, whispering a quiet, "Carlos-"

His smile grows wider and he nods, encouraging you to take it out.

"I love it," you tell him as you take the bracelet he's gotten you out of the box, admiring the charm that's attached to it. It's a chess piece but it isn't until you hold it closer that you see what it is- The King. 

"I have this," Carlos says as he opens up two buttons of his shirt and pulls up a necklace you had no idea he was wearing, showing you the small charm that's hanging from the chain. "So you’re always close to me. My queen.” 

You hold out your hand to him and watch as he puts the bracelet on, the charm unsuspicious enough to not be able to link it to Carlos right away yet holding such a special meaning for you. You watch as it sparkles in the light and smile at Carlos, “Thank you.” 

***

The streets are much quieter on your walk back to the hotel and you enjoy the comfortable silence between you and Carlos, your hand in his as you walk side by side. It’s still warm outside and so once you make it back to your room you step onto the balcony and admire the view of the bay at night. 

Carlos comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. His mouth is close to your ear when he whispers, “I love you.”

“Carlos-” you start, but he squeezes you closer to let you know he’s not done yet.

“I felt so bad for not saying it back to you, earlier but-” he lets his lips ghost over the skin just below your ear, drawing goosebumps, “I do. I think I always have.”

You turn around in his arms and look up at him, “I love you.” You stand up on your toes then and kiss him, gently at first but it quickly turns into something more heated, a need behind it that you know he understands when he starts walking you back inside the room. 

He keeps kissing you, his tongue finding its way inside your mouth, the taste of the chocolate dessert still lingering. Your hands find their way to his shirt and you slowly start to undo the buttons before you push it off and let your fingers dance over his skin. You find the necklace then and pull away so you can press a kiss to where it’s hanging on his chest, muttering a quiet, “My king,” that makes him groan. 

Carlos cups your face and brings you back up to meet him and there’s a hunger in his eyes that you’ve seen before and can’t wait to satisfy. He places small open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw and further down to your throat and collarbone, sometimes sucking and biting on your skin before running his tongue over it to stop it from hurting. 

You throw your head back to give him better access and moan when he cups one of your breasts over your dress, his thumb rubbing over the fabric creating a wonderful sensation. “Carlos,” you breathe, not sure what you’re trying to tell him because you don’t want him to stop but you know you don’t want him to linger either.

“I want to try something,” he says against your skin. “Do you trust me?”

You nod, words momentarily evading you at the promise of- Something. 

He pulls back then and takes your hand, pulling you along with him to the ensuite bathroom. He stops in front of the double sink and stands behind you, catching your eye in the large mirror that covers the entire wall. Hooking his fingers under the straps of your dress he slowly slides them down and starts kissing your shoulder, still looking at you.

When the fabric falls to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your panties, it sends a shiver down your spine and you lean back against Carlos with a heavy sigh. 

“I want to watch you watch yourself come undone,” Carlos says, his voice low and a little dangerous. “Want you to see what I can do to you.”

Your throat goes dry but you can feel yourself grow even wetter at his words and so you nod in response.

“I need to hear you say it,” he whispers, both hands now cupping your breasts. “Do you want to come undone? Do you want to watch yourself as I make you mine?”

“Yes,” you breathe. Then, because you know what he wants to hear, “Yes, papi.” 

***

He’s got you bend over the sink, the porcelain cold against your hot skin, and you watch him in the mirror as he drives himself into you. He’s taking his time, going much slower than earlier today, but he hits your sweet spot on every single thrust and you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, locking eyes with him. “I’m almost-” A moan then when he bottoms out again, “Fuck.” 

Carlos bends over and places a kiss between your shoulder blades, “I’m right there with you.” He picks up the pace ever so slightly, his breathing becoming a little more laboured as he holds onto your hips for leverage. 

“Yes! God yes,” you scream, feeling the pressure build inside of you, your orgasm ready to explode and fully engulf you. Without thinking you close your eyes and immediately Carlos reacts, one hand under your chin to make you look up.

“Open your eyes,” he says, the tone of his voice letting you know it’s not a question and so you comply immediately. “Good girl,” he praises and as a reward he sneaks one hand down to your clit, where he presses down his thumb. 

You let out a whimper, “Please.”

His thrusts become more irregular and you know it’s because he’s chasing his own orgasm as much as you're chasing yours. His pupils are fully blown now and there’s a sheen of sweat on his face, his hair no longer as carefully coiffed as it was ten minutes ago and God, he looks absolutely spent and more beautiful than ever. He grins at you through the mirror, that wicked smile that you love so much, “Come for me, mami.” 

You do.

He groans on the final few thrusts but then he stills inside of you and you can feel him coating your walls with his release. He’s muttering something in Spanish that you don’t quite catch but seem to understand all the same as he puts one arm around your stomach and pulls you up and against him. His other hand moves to your throat where he curls his fingers around it gently, his thumb tilting your chin up. He puts his mouth to your ear, “You see that?”

You lock eyes with him in the mirror, see how he’s panting, how completely blissed out both of you look, and so you nod, a satisfied smile tugging on the corners of your mouth.

“We did that, my love.” Something changes then in the way he looks at you, a softness falling over him as he turns your head towards him and kisses you, “My queen.”

***

All too soon it’s Monday morning and Carlos is driving you to the airport for your flight to Bologna, the silence filling the car a little more charged this time. When he pulls up at the departure terminal he looks at you and shrugs apologetically, “It’s only for a few days, cariño. I’ll see you again on Wednesday, no?”

“I know,” you agree easily enough. “I just wish we could stay here for a little longer.”

Carlos chuckles, “That would only make it harder to get back into the real world, I think.” He reaches for your hand then and presses a kiss to the back of your hand, “We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” you say as you turn towards him and cup his face. “We will be.” You lean in then and give him a kiss before you tell him, “I was thinking about telling Max about us this weekend. And once Max knows-”

“I can tell the world that you’re mine,” he finishes with a grin. Another kiss then, deeper and more intense, like he wants you to remember him, like he’s worried you’ll forget what it feels like. 

When you pull back you smile at him, “Can’t wait.” 

=== 

Notes No se lo digas a nadie, tú siempre has sido mi favorita. = Don’t tell anyone but you’re my favourite (at least, that’s what I hope it translates to...)

Taglist:  @shes-homeward-bound | @chiogarza | @oyesmendes | @thatchickwiththecamera | @sanne-p | @your-favourite-blonde | @internetgremlin | @watermel0nsugarhigh | @fictional-l0v3r | @nochillnel | @dr3lover | @dan3avacado | @idkiwantchocolatee | @nicke0115 | @desperate-and-broken | @iamasimpingh0e | @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy​ | @vroomvroommbtch

[falcqns]

you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now) chapter three

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lucy Chen & Tamara Colins, Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, background Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lucy spends her first week of maternity leave ignoring everyone but Jackson and Nolan. Tim comes back to work and questions where his rookie is, but no one will tell him anything, even Lucy. Lucy finds out some news about Tamara, and has to make a decision.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon divergence, autistic!Tamara, Tim Bradford would do anything for Lucy Chen, Lucy is a hardcore swiftie, adoption, finally Tim makes an appearance, low-key basing Tamara off of my one month old bc im obsessed w everything she does as I didn’t get this experience w my first, 

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Lucy laid Tamara down in her bassinet, one hand on her back, and one hand on her belly. She removes her hand from underneath her, and rubs her belly, watching as the 2 week old infant stretches, yawns, and closes her eyes, falling into a deep sleep. 

Lucy sighs, rubbing her hand across Tamara’s forehead, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her nose. The past two weeks had been a lot, but Lucy wouldn’t trade it for anything. She was loving being Tamara’s guardian. 

Was she exhausted? Yes. Had she not had a shower in over a week? Also yes. But it didn’t matter. Knowing Tamara is taken care of, safe, and loved is more valuable to Lucy than all the good night sleeps and hot showers she’d ever taken are. 

Lucy turned on the sound machine and the baby monitor, taking the portable portion with her. She slowly shut the door, and then turned to look at the state of her apartment. 

It was a disaster. There were empty bottles, take out containers, coffee cups, and laundry everywhere. The dishes were piling up, and the garbage needed to be taken out. She sighed one more time, clipping the baby monitor to the pocket of her sweat pants, before she started picking up things, wanting to get the apartment in order for when Jackson and John came over after shift. 

Jackson had been her number one supporter the last two weeks. He came over on his lunch break and helped her bathe Tamara for the first time on her own, and had ran out to the store for formula and diapers and wipes more times than Lucy could count. John, on the other hand, had yet to meet Tamara. He knew of Tamara, and that Lucy took her in, but he had been so busy with adjusting to his busy schedule and maintaining his contact with his son that time for him to come over and cuddle a baby while Lucy ate something was limited.

Tonight, however, was a free night, and Lucy could tell John was excited. He had texted her in the morning, asking if they were still on for tonight and if she needed him to bring anything, followed up by a text gushing about how he couldn’t wait to meet her. It made Lucy happy, knowing that she had such a great support system already, even though it was small. She had yet to tell her parents, as she knew that they would call her irresponsible and foolish for doing this, but then again, what did they know about raising children properly? All they did when she showed any sort of emotion was stick her in a therapy session. 

So while her support system was small, it was strong, and was filled with people who would support her how she needed, not how they thought she needed it. 

She had just dragged Tamara’s baby bouncer that Jackson had brought her a few days ago into the bathroom when she heard Tamara start crying in her bedroom. Lucy smiled to herself, and made her way into the bedroom. She turned off the baby monitor and the sound machine before approaching the bassinet, where Tamara was moving her limbs around in her sleep sack, eyes searching the room for Lucy. 

“Hi baby girl.” Lucy said gently, not wanting to startle Tamara. She unzipped the sleep sack and cooed when she saw Tamara’s limbs scrunch up in a stretch. “Did you have a good sleep?” She asked as she lifted her up, making sure to support her head. 

Tamara instantly settled down when Lucy held her against her chest, and carried her over to the change table. She laid her down and unzipped her onesie, her heart hurting when Tamara let out a cry at the air of the room hitting her bare skin. 

“I know,” Lucy said gently, trying to be quick about the diaper change. “I know, Mama Lucy is trying to be quick.” 

Once she was changed and her onesie was done back up, Lucy cradled her against her chest once again, and carried her into the bathroom, strapping her into the baby bouncer. Tamara cried again briefly, but quickly settled when Lucy hit the on button and it slowly began rocking her back and forth. 

Lucy sighed, and stripped quickly, turning the shower on and hopped in. She kept the shower door open slightly, just so that she could peek out at Tamara every so often. She knew Tamara would be fine for a few minutes, but it made the anxiety in Lucy’s chest settle if she could just peek at her every once in a while. 

Lucy finished her quick shower, and dried off, dressing in record time. She had just pulled on her leggings and sweater when Tamara started crying again. Lucy checked her phone and deduced that she was most likely hungry, as it had been almost 3 hours since her last bottle.

She scooped Tamara up, and carried her into the kitchen, where she grabbed the bottle with 3 ounces of formula, and warmed it up before carrying it over to the couch. She was about to sit down and feed her when the doorbell rang. 

“It’s open!” She called to Jackson and John. Jackson opened the door and walked in, followed by John. 

“Hey,” She said, smiling at her friends. “How was work today?” 

John nodded with a smile, his eyes fixed on Tamara. 

“Do you want to feed her?” She asked, and John nodded. 

“If you don’t mind,” He said, looking at her for permission. 

“Be my guest,” she said, holding out the bottle in one hand, and Tamara with her other arm. John scooped both baby and bottle from Lucy and sat down on the couch. Lucy sat down next to them, with Jackson sitting across from the two of them, on the chair that he had claimed over a year ago. 

“How was work?” Lucy repeated, wanting to know what was going on while she is gone. 

“Oh you know,” Jackson said with a smile. “Its work.”

“Yup,” John agreed. “Absolutely insane.”

“Glad to hear nothings changed,” Lucy said with a smile. 

“Well, one thing has changed,” John said. “Tim came back to work finally.”

Lucy nodded. “I figured. He’s not mad that I’m off, is he?”

Jackson shook his head. “No, not mad. He’s definitely confused, but don’t worry, we haven’t told anyone the real reason you’re off.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said sincerely. “I really do appreciate that. It’s not that I’m ashamed of her or anything, but I don’t know how long she’ll be with me, so I don’t want everyone to get attached and then have to say goodbye.” She explained. 

Both boys nodded, and John went to open his mouth to answer, when Lucy’s phone went off. She looked down, and saw the name ‘Stacie - DCFS’ flash across her screen. 

“Hold on,” she said to the boys, grabbing her phone and walking into her bedroom.

“Hello?” She said, answering the phone. 

“Hi Lucy, its Stacie.” Stacie said in her cheery voice. 

“Hi Stacie, how can I help you?” Lucy responded, trying to control her breathing. She knew that this call would come sooner or later, and no matter how much she told herself that she had to do what was best for Tamara, she still dreaded hearing that they found her family. 

“Well, I’m just calling to inform you that the search for Tamara’s family has been unsuccessful. We were unable to locate any relatives who are able to take her in.” 

A smile spread on Lucy’s face, which then caused a pang of guilt inside her. She shouldn’t be rejoicing over this. Them being unsuccessful means that she does have family out there, but they aren’t able to take her in, meaning she once again, in her short 2 weeks of life, has no one. 

“Oh, okay.” She answered. “So what happens next?” She asked. 

“Well,” Stacie said, a smile evident on her face. “You have a choice to make. We can either search for a permanent placement for Tamara with another family, or you can start the process to adopt her.” 

Tears filled Lucy’s eyes. There was no question in her mind about what she was going to pick. 

“You can take a few days to think-“ Stacie began, but Lucy cut her off. 

“I want to adopt her.” She said. 

“I had a feeling you’d choose that option,” Stacie said warmly. Lucy could hear keys clicking in the background. “So, I will contact a family lawyer for you, and get the process expedited. If all goes well, which I know for a fact it will, she should officially be yours - at the very latest - by the end of next month.” 

“T-thank you,” Lucy said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re so welcome, Lucy.” Stacie said. “Because of you, that baby is going to be raised in a wonderful environment, by the most wonderful mom. I’m so glad that you are the one who found her.” 

Lucy and Stacie traded thank you’s once more, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Lucy sat down on the bed, and sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. She took a deep breath, before the door opened. 

“Everything okay, Lucy?” John asked, carrying Tamara. 

“Y-yeah, great actually.” She said, looking up at her baby girl in the arms of her friend. “That was her social worker.”

Jackson walked in to the room, and took a seat next to her. “And?” He asked. 

“They couldn’t find any family when are able to take her in, so we have started the process for me to adopt her.” She said with a smile, and laughed when both Jackson and John exclaimed in happiness, Jackson wrapping her in a hug. 

“That’s amazing!” John said, sitting down next to her. “You’re officially a mom.” He said, handing Tamara over to her. 

“Yeah, I am.” She whispered, looking down at the sleeping infant. She then wrinkled her nose, after getting a whiff of poop. 

“Oh yeah,” John said. “Yeah she definitely pooped, so she’s all yours, Mama.”

—-

Later that night, after Jackson and John had left, and Tamara had been laid down for the night, Lucy was laying in bed, facing Tamara. She was going to be hers, officially, and she couldn’t be happier. She had always wanted to be a mom, and now she was one, to a little girl who deserved a mother the most. 

Just as Lucy went to close her eyes, there was a knock at her door. Lucy sighed, and climbed out of bed, trudging to the door. She peeked through the peep hole, and her heart dropped seeing Tim. She gulped, and opened the door. 

“H-hi,” She said apprehensively. 

“Hey.” He said, looking concerned. “Why aren’t you at work? Grey said you’re on leave for a few months, and no one seems to know anything.” 

“What, are you worried?” She said jokingly, hoping that Tamara would stay asleep. 

Tim rolled his eyes. “No, Boot, I just wanted to know if you were dropping out of the program or not so I don’t waste my time waiting around.” 

Lucy rolled her eyes. “No, sir. I am not dropping out.”

“Then why are you on leave?” He demanded. 

“Look, Tim, theres been few…” Lucy began, unsure how to word her explanation without giving anything away. “Changes in my life recently. Changes that I don’t feel at liberty to share with people, especially not my training officer. Not at the moment at least.” She explained. 

“I just need a few months to adjust and find my footing, and then I’ll be back.” She said, and Tim nodded in agreement. 

“Good.” He said simply. “I’m going to hold you to that, Chen.”

Lucy smiled warmly. “I know, sir.”

[pradaxstyles]

Alexa’s notes✨: this is a little self indulgent, but I hope you all enjoy some college! Ellie <3 let me know if you like this and I can always come up w some more for different scenarios 🌷

Thinking about college! Ellie and how she’d be hanging at your house for hours just sitting with you while you did homework/studied. Her classes finished early for the semester so she’s been nothing but supportive when it came to your studies. 

❃ “Come on baby, one more problem and we’ll take a break.”

❃ Your laptop and notes would be laid out messily, colorful pens and highlighters with caps mismatched (this was all Ellie, you hated when she did it) while she’s helping you go through your notes.

❃ “Okay, do you think you could tell me how to solve Hardy Weinberg’s Equilibrium formula? Or do we need to do a few more practice problems? Here, hand me that flow chart and we’ll go over it again.” 

Ellie would be really good at math, majoring in mechanical engineering so your bio homework is a breeze for her. She'd be all over you with the encouraging words, walking you through every step of an equation and explaining it. 

❃ ”No, no I don’t wanna hear it, you can absolutely do it. Just gotta put that pretty mind to it, you got it.”

❃ She’d be sitting next to you on your bedroom floor, playing some soft music from your shared playlist through your laptop, her knees pressed into yours while she waved a pen around.

❃ “What the fuck even is this? Why is this in biology to begin with?” 

She’d crack the stupidest jokes just to see your smile. She hated when you were stressed, and as final exams approached, it seemed as if you were always stressed, and she couldn't have that. 

❃ “Baabbbeeeee I have snacks! We’re gonna hunker down and study for your history exam and we’ll watch an episode of the office! How does that sound, my pretty girl?” 

❃ “Uhhh, why did henry viii have so many wives? What a whore.”

❃ She’d go on random tangents about people in history and how “I can’t believe they used to do that! Can you imagine if we did that nowadays?” 

And when you were really down on yourself, feeling like there was no end in sight, Ellie was right there, reminding you that you were so close to the finish line. 

❃ “I know, sweets. I know. You're almost there. You have no idea how smart and capable you are. You’re gonna crush these exams, and if you don’t, I'll crush your professors,” she’d say with a sly smirk on her face, resulting in you pushing her arm slightly.

❃ “No but I'm serious, babe. I know it seems like it’s all piling up and that it’s one thing after another, but you can do it. If anyone can, you’ll be the one to kick ass.”

❃ “My girl is graduating college in a few weeks. College. That’s fucking huge. I'm sososo proud of you, angel.” 

On exam days, she’d make sure you had a good breakfast, insisting on sleeping over the night before so she could make sure you ate. She’d walk you to class and send an encouraging text as you took your seat. 

❃ “You’re gonna crush it, babe!” 

❃ “Remember to take a deep breath and think each problem through.” 

❃ “No matter what the result is, I'm so fucking proud of you.” 

At the end of finals week, she’d pamper you the way you deserved. Ellie would plan a date night where she absolutely spoiled you and showered you in kisses and cuddles. Every time she looked at you or even in your general direction, her gaze was so full of love and pride.