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#well okay i hope it qualifies
our-stars-graveside · 2 years
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Febuwhump prompt >> February 5
“that’s gonna scar”
leverage | 1,177 words | peliot
warnings: none needed as far as i can tell except there is a very brief mention of blood at the start
~ honestly i very much intended to complete more of the febuwhump prompts but this past month did not go at all as planned, so i’m just editing the ones i have and posting each one as i get through them. just so you know, they are not meant to be grammatically correct. in fact i promise you none of them are. probably. hope you like this one!!
—x—
parker stared at her arm, at the gash that seemed deeper every moment blood welled up and spilled from her veins.
what did i do?
eliot was angry, that was certain. he fell to his knees in front of her frozen form, growled at the weeping cut and snarled into the comms that he was with parker, that he was taking care of her even if she had fucked up…
but when parker flinched, just a tiny jerk of her head, cursing herself internally for the reaction (he won't hurt her, he wouldn’t do that to her) eliot’s flicked his eyes up, cataloging her movement. his voice lowered, now a soothing rumble murmuring ‘sit still, this won’t take long’ and his stance softened, less sharp shoulder blades and yanking hands, less hard angles. she couldn’t complain when the hydrogen peroxide was soaked into the wound, after all it was her fault, and it wasn't as if she hadn’t poked eliot’s injuries many a time before. (for a second she almost felt bad, but there was no point. she was mostly just interested in his reaction anyhow, as always, just to see how people really worked. to see how he worked. it wasn’t like she hadn’t felt worse before, and recently too.)
his coarse fingertips brushed over the unblemished skin on her arm, wrapping a strip of gauze around the wound, and she finally raised her eyes for a single moment. his bowed head had the mat of hair covering his expression, but parker couldn’t doubt he was still angry. she had jeopardized the mission, she had injured herself..their thief, their asset, their plan, and yet…
“parker. hey. parker!”
she found her head lifted by a gentle, calloused hand, and so her mind from the grim thoughts that followed her everywhere no matter how she tried to avoid them, outrun them.
light blue eyes coaxed deep blue skyward and parker finally relented, but not without closing the doors to all her favorite moments with the team. all her happy memories pushing hardison off buildings, dragging sophie through festivals, pestering nate about people things, slipping into eliot’s apartment on those dark, cold, bad mind days where it didn’t matter what the sunset looked like from her favorite skyscraper views, she couldn’t bear to watch it alone.
because this time, the next time, the next after that. what if she wasn’t enough? or what if she was too much? what if her mistakes told them she wasn’t needed anymore, what then?
even after all those times, startling eliot in his kitchen, makeshift gym, roof garden…no longer being able to scare the so-called invulnerable hitter because he learned to read her unspoken cues, her expressions and behaviors and the cases that hit hardest. he knew where she’d be. would it matter now?
he’d leave a glass of chocolate milk for her the days he knew she wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t even let him see her there but he knew she was somewhere in his apartment, curled up and mentally comatose. chocolate milk he only bought for her, because he knew she liked it. other, better days they would sit together on the sofa, almost mindlessly watching some sports channel except that parker would vibrate with contained confusion and energy until she couldn’t take it anymore or eliot prompted her to ask her hundreds of questions of why? how does that work? and who came up with that terrible idea? why don’t they just…
if she was lucky and she stuck around all night, whether on the couch, tucked away in the linen closet, or hung upside down from the ceiling harness setup eliot begrudgingly allowed her to add to the gym, he’d cook for her in the morning. a warm omelet or sweet, tender blueberry muffins with just the right amount of crumble topping, and neither of them said so, but both their days were made all the better for it. (one time, she thanked him, just a ducked head, a quick word before she vanished into the city. she barely caught eliot’s small smile before she rounded the corner; they both knew she wasn’t only talking about breakfast. for once, someone knew what parker was thinking, even when she didn’t, and she knew what they were thinking. it was usually so hard, but with eliot, it worked. it almost made sense. and if she didn’t understand, he’d make it clear in short order. of course this was usually when he was angry, but still. he was a nicer sort of angry around parker and it meant something to her.)
the only time she was ever allowed in eliot’s bedroom was after a particularly rough case, when parker was silent and shaking and showed up on the doorstep but for once couldn’t make herself open the door. eliot had been waiting, and opened it for her. he was like that, making things easier to say and do, making it less trouble and effort to just be.
he’d given her privacy to get into a change of clothes, an old, soft t-shirt and loose pajama bottoms so well-worn they felt like silk on her skin. she stood blinking in the dim lamplight, then he led her to the bed where they lay, wrapped around each other, him whispering quiet words of comfort and safety and trust for the rest of the night and into the morning, when at dawn she’d slipped out. out of the solace of his arms and away, back into her world. he’d never notice his missing clothes anyway, or at least mention them, she hoped. she was keeping them regardless, because it wasn't like she wouldn't be back soon anyhow. maybe next week, when they could both pretend this had never happened.
now and then, eliot had let her help with his garden. she would work among the prized vegetables and spices, tend to the tomatoes and plant the okra, listening closely to him explaining the best way to choose the ripest peppers and strawberries, and smile just a little when he asked her to clip parsley and oregano for that night’s meal…she hadn’t known companionship like this ever in her life. then again, nothing had been quite like before since the team. since him. sometimes, it hurt and sometimes it scared her.
but when eliot smiled one of his rare smiles when she asked an oblivious question — one of those special ones he seemed to love — and even as he answered it, the amused laughter-lines on his face clearly said what he had spoken many times before (don’t ever change, parker) she finally heard what he’d been saying all along. i love you.
‘that’s going to scar,’ eliot said, voice soft, eyes searching.
parker knew not to question it, and still she had to ask.
‘but it’ll be okay?’
even now, barely calm, he nodded, all clear gaze and ready hands, though he knew she could catch her own fall. just in case.
‘yeah.’
and only for her, ‘it’ll be fine.’
—x—
lmk what y’all think (for real any and all comments are welcome) & thank ya for reading!! :D✨
@motionlessblackveilbride welcome to peliot. pardison is currently secondary…
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misclogarts · 5 months
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mfw i'm writing questionablepie +strawberry family fluff and bb drops more content for them (it's angst)
#itlogthoughts#inquirer are you okay... girl... say something..........#ok i'd be pretty pissed too if the only place i could relax in was connected to that underground organization that's been a pain in my* ass#for like. a while (*and pretty much everyone else's...? or at least those from the council of magic)#what i wonder though is that considering cherry pie is there there must be other fruit witches (or at least. anyone with an “unimportant”-#-specialty) in their ranks. that being said if the other witch disappearances are also from the everlasting (ie spider witch; lily witch-#-heck even the lemon witch that cherry may or may not have cooked) why are they targeting civilians instead of like. idk their actual targe#i mean giving it more thought it's probably so they can collect power before attempting anything (which makes sense) on the council#but like... do they not feel bad. because they're essentially preying on witches who are already at a disadvantage to the system (which-#-would also technically work in their favor; the council doesn't value them so if they disappeared it would cause minimal issue)#i guess it's a “the end justifies the means” type scenario but i'd hope that if the everlasting does manage to usurp the council of witches#they wouldn't go hungry (ha-ha.) for power and abuse it in the same way they're doing#on a completely unrelated note of all of the people to take on the role of the head of the mind division ... why and how did they pick-#-memorial. i mean he could be qualified for the job or maybe well-loved but going from that one post bb made anything under their managemen#is a total mess in comparison to when philos was the head. that combined with the whole "can't get mad at what you can't remember thing...#i suspect foul play :/#i wonder what button's speciality is because there's no way that they're just a random hire
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gxtzeizm · 1 year
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idk why but i'm just feel a lil bit pissed rn....right after that sprint race actually
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sebscore · 2 months
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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
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pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (she/her pronouns)
warnings: angst. angst. angst. swearing. like a lot of swearing. i cannot write crashes/contact for the life of me. argument. lando and reader are assholes in this. 
author's note: dont even ask me why i wrote this, i got inspired and needed it out of my system. lol. 
masterlist
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''Retire the car. Too much damage. Sorry, Y/N.'' Marco informed her over the radio, sounding frustrated and apologetic over her already finished race. 
The driver took a deep breath before answering. ''Too bad, it was going well. Thanks, guys.'' 
Her race had in fact been going well. She'd made a great start going from P4 to P2, and had managed to keep up with the Red Bull of Max. They weren't even halfway in the race or Lando tried overtaking her, causing contact, causing her to run off in the gravel with too much trouble on the car to continue. 
In her opinion, it had been reckless. The McLaren driver knew exactly she would end up being forced off the track by the overtake, and that her race would most likely be over because of it. 
As she trudged back to the garage, helmet in hand, she could barely contain her frustration. The team greeted her with sympathetic looks, but she didn't stop to talk to anyone. She headed straight for her driver's room, needing a moment to cool off before she could face the media. 
Her hands trembled with anger as she peeled off her gloves, tossing them onto a nearby chair. The season hadn't been going how she had hoped or even expected it to go. Last year she had been the vice World Champion, the undisputed second-best driver on the grid, the only one to essentially have been able to challenge Max's dominance. Now, she got lucky to even end up in the top five of a race. Her team's design of the car hadn't been meeting the expectations the engineers had set, and upgrades weren't helping in the way they had hoped. 
That is why this race weekend had been a great boost for the team's morale and confidence. Qualifying had gone really well, and for a moment they were able to fight for the win even. But the papaya car of No. 4 had shoved their hopes down the drain. 
Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Marco standing there, looking concerned. ''You okay?'' 
''Have I ever been okay,'' she remarked, a sarcastic chuckle leaving her lips. ''I'm just pissed, that's all. I had high hopes for today.'' 
''We all did,'' he smiled sadly. ''The stewards reviewed the incident, but he, uh, didn't get a penalty.'' He said softly, almost as if he was afraid of her reaction.
The young woman let out a bitter laugh. ''Of course he didn't, why would he?'' Her hands covered her face, briefly wiping off the sweat that had formed. 
Marco took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and disappointment. ''You drove brilliantly out there. Everyone saw it. The team saw it. It's just... racing politics sometimes.'' 
She dropped her hands, meeting his eyes with a mixture of anger and resignation. ''It's always like that, though. It's always the same drivers suffering the consequences of others, and they don't get shit for it. It is fucking annoying.'' 
Her engineer nodded, understanding everything she was saying. ''I know, we all know. But we keep fighting. We keep pushing. This season isn't over yet.'' 
''Yeah, true.'' She sighed. 
Marco gave her a reassuring smile. ''We'll be ready for the next race. We're all in this together, okay? We're all behind you.'' 
She nodded, feeling a small measure of comfort in his words. ''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' They shared a quick embrace, before he left to join the team again. Meanwhile she got herself ready to go to the media pen. As much as she wanted to hide away, she knew it was part of the job. 
Since she had an early exit, there wasn't much activity inside the area, though there were a bunch of reporters waiting for her. 
''Y/N, tough race today. Can you tell us what happened from your perspective?'' The reporter asked after briefly greeting her. 
''Yeah, it was, uh, challenging, I guess,'' she plastered a smile on her face. ''We had a great start, moving up to P2 and keeping pace with Max. Then, yeah, the contact with Lando. The car had a bunch of damage, and we decided to just retire the car.'' 
''Do you think it was a fair move by him?'' He followed up. 
She paused, weighing her response. ''Racing is always intense, especially at this level. I don't think it was the right move to make, but the stewards saw it as a racing incident.  I'll respect their decision, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.'' 
''You and Lando are good friends, and have been racing against each other since your karting days. Will you talk to him afterwards or just forget about it?'' 
They had expected a question like this, so the media-trained answer came out very quickly. ''It was deemed a racing incident, so there is not much to say further about it.'' 
''How do you and your team plan to bounce back from this setback?'' The reporter for Sky Sports changed the topic. 
''We'll regroup and come back stronger,'' she answered, injecting as much determination into her voice as she could muster. ''This season has been tough, but my team and I are committed to pushing forward. We learn from every race, and today is no different.'' 
''That's great, thank you, Y/N.'' They wrapped up the interview, and she moved onto a new one. 
Once she had spoken to everyone she needed to speak to, she finally had a moment to herself. She knew the words she had just spoken were the right ones, but they did little to soothe the turmoil inside her. 
It didn't help that Lando managed to take the lead, and eventually get his first win. As she watched the remainder of the race from the sidelines, her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand, she was proud of her friend for finally making his dream come true. However, it had come at the expense of her race. She had pushed so hard this season, and to see her friend and rival celebrate his triumph while she stood there with nothing but frustration was almost unbearable. 
The cheers from the McLaren garage echoed in her ears. They celebrated wildly, the joy of his long-awaited victory palpable even from a distance. He was swarmed by his team as they shouted his name. 
The podium ceremony was even worse. As Lando stood on the top step, the British national anthem playing in the background, she couldn't help but replay the moment that had ended her race. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the genuine happiness that came with achieving a lifelong dream. But all she could think about was the contact, the gravel trap, and the wrecked potential of what could have been her race. 
Under any other circumstance, she would have been there for him. She would have run to the ceremony herself, just like he had done for her when she got her first win in F1 and made history as the first woman to do so. But it just stung too deep. 
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''Lando, there was an incident with Y/N that resulted in her retiring from the race. Can you tell us what happened there?'' The Dutch reporter asked the race winner. 
Lando's expression shifted slightly, the euphoria dimming just a bit. ''Uh, yeah. I saw a gap and went for it. It was a tight move, and unfortunately, it led to some contact. But that's racing, you know.'' 
''Have you spoken to her yet?'' 
''Not yet,'' he admitted. ''But I don't think there is much to talk about.'' He chuckled, quickly glancing sideways, but his laugh seemed forced.
''She told Sky Sports that she didn't think you made the right move there.'' The journalist said, instigating a headline for them to be able to use. 
Lando frowned at his words, but recovered. ''Well, that's her opinion. It was just racing for me.'' 
''So you don't regret making the move?'' The reporter pressed on. 
The Brit took a deep breath before answering. ''I regret that it ended her race. But as a racer, you have to take chances. It's a fine line, you know.''
The older man in front of him nodded at his response, knowing they had gotten a glimpse of the tension that was present between the fan-favorite duo. ''Thank you, Lando. Congratulations again.'' 
''Thank you.'' 
With that, the interview wrapped up, and Lando moved onto the next reporter. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, so why was everyone talking to him as if he had done something wrong? 
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Y/N was struggling to unwind. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, each replay more frustrating than the last. She tried to distract herself by either watching some TikToks or TV, but nothing could drown out her thoughts. The texts from her friends, family and team certainly didn't help. It was a nice gesture, but she didn't want to think about the race anymore and the messages weren't helping. Finally, she decided to call it a night and climbed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some respite. 
Just as she was starting to drift off, another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was unusual for someone to bother her this late, especially when she was winding down in her hotel room.
She frowned and got out of bed, opening the door to find Lando standing there, wearing his signature grin, acting nonchalant as ever. ''You wanna come celebrate with us? We rented a club.'' 
Y/N frowned at him, confused over his casual behavior. ''No.'' She scoffed, offended by the mere thought. 
It was now Lando's turn to frown at his friend. ''Why?'' 
She crossed her arms, incredulous at his obliviousness. ''Why? Are you taking the fucking piss out of me or something.'' 
His grin faltered slightly, but he tried to maintain his composure. ''If this is about the racing incident then you're being ridiculous.'' 
Her eyes widened in disbelief, her frustration boiling over. ''I am being ridiculous? You were ridiculous with that move you pulled!'' She retorted, raising her voice. ''You ran me off the track knowing how hard this season has fucking been for me. You know how much I needed a good result today and you ruined it for me!'' 
''Y/N, I get that you're upset, but it's racing. These things are bound to happen. I saw a gap and I went for it. The stewards didn't even penalize me, so clearly, it wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be.'' He was restraining from rolling his eyes, she could tell. 
She scoffed, shaking her head. ''Oh, so now you're agreeing with the stewards? Now that it is benefitting you? And there was no fucking gap, you were just being selfish. You knew what you were doing, and you didn't care how it would affect me.'' 
Lando's face hardened, his patience wearing thin. ''I didn't do it on purpose to screw you over, where the fuck are you getting that from? I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's what we do out there. You know that better than anyone." 
''If that opportunity was ruining my fucking race, then yeah, you really took the opportunity, Norris.'' She rolled her eyes, voice tinged with sarcasm. 
He took a step closer, his frustration now matching hers. ''I'm sorry that you didn't get the result you wanted today, I really am. But I am not going to apologize for racing and doing my job, Y/N.'' 
She simply glared at him, disappointed in how he was acting towards her. They'd never really had an argument before, at least not one where they couldn't see each other's point. They'd been frustrated with each other before, but it was always in reason. 
''If anything, I should be angry with you- not the other way.'' Lando suddenly said. 
''Why's that?'' She sneered, almost in disbelief that he would have a valid reason. 
''Because you didn't even have the fucking guts to congratulate me,'' he snapped back, ''when you won Silverstone, I was literally one of the first people to hug you and congratulate you for your win. I stood next to your fucking parents, Y/N! And today you didn't even bother doing anything.'' 
Her mouth fell open, a mix of shock and anger flooding her veins. ''You are unbelievable… You ruined my fucking race, Lando! How am I supposed to stand there and cheer for you when you cost me everything today?'' 
He rolled his eyes while throwing up his hands. ''This isn't just about today. You're just jealous because my season has been going so much better than yours. You can't fucking stand that for one time I'm doing actually better than you.'' 
''Jealous… of you?'' The words came out like laughter, slightly hurting the McLaren driver's ego. ''You think I can't be happy for you because I'm not doing as well? That's so low, Lando.'' 
''Ever since the start of the season you've been so moody and distant, and now you can't even say or even fucking text me a congratulations for my first win. You're so pissed that I got a win before you this season, you can't even hide it.'' He shot back. 
''Oh, give me a break. Like you wouldn't act the same if you were getting all these shit results. Maybe I didn't congratulate you because I was too busy trying to scrape gravel out of my fucking tires.'' She remarked, throwing in the sarcastic comment. 
Lando looked unimpressed by her remark. ''You're just mad cause I'm outshining you. You can't fucking stand that I'm getting all the attention.'' 
''Outshining me? Are you hearing yourself?'' She mocked him, laughing bitterly. ''You get one win and you're acting like you're a fucking World Champion already. You've been riding Max's dick these last years hoping some of his success will rub off on you. Newsflash Norris, everyone is just fucking laughing at you.'' 
His face turned red, either embarrassment or anger. ''At least I'm not constantly whining about my car and blaming everyone else for my problems. Maybe if you spent more time focusing on your driving and less on complaining, you'd have more to celebrate.'' 
''You're a fucking spoiled brat who can't stand some competition. You think everything should be handed to you on a silver platter.'' She retorted. 
''And you're a fucking baby who throws a temper tantrum everytime you don't get what you want. It's time to fucking grow up, Y/N!'' He shouted, his voice rising with each word. 
She took a step closer to him. ''You should spend less time trying to prove yourself to people who don't give a shit about you, and more time trying to be a decent fucking human being. I'm ashamed to call you one of my best friends.'' 
That last sentence had clearly hit a nerve or several nerves. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. ''Fuck you, Y/N. Enjoy your pity party.'' Lando turned and walked away, joining his friends who were waiting in the lobby. 
She watched him go, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She could feel the pulse of her racing heart, the adrenaline from their argument making her feel jittery and unsteady. 
A lump formed in her throat as she replayed the last few minutes in her mind. She cringed internally at the words she had fired at Lando, while also trying to ignore the sting from his own harsh words. She wondered how they would be able to come back from this. They had never been in a situation like this before, and she knew that she would never want to be in this situation again. 
The young woman knew that she had let her emotions get the best of her. She had always prided herself on being fair and understanding, but now she felt ashamed of herself. 
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another door opening. George peeked out, concern etched on his face. ''Y/N, you okay?'' 
She shook her head, not wanting to deal with anyone else. ''Mind your business, Russell.'' She retreated back into her room, not before slamming the door behind her. 
As she leaned against the closed door, the weight of the evening pressed down on her. The room felt too small, her emotions too big. She slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall.
Even when she finally got up, even when she tucked herself in again for the final time, and even when she tossed and turned the entire night, the same question lingered in her mind. 
Are they still friends? 
The question haunted her, gnawing at her thoughts every time she closed her eyes. She replayed the argument over and over, dissecting every word, every expression. The hurt in his eyes, the anger in his voice- it all felt so raw and irreversible. 
As the hours dragged on, sleep remained elusive. The darkness of the room mirrored the uncertainty in her heart. She knew they both needed time to cool off, to reflect, but the thought of facing Lando again filled her with dread.
The first light of dawn began to seep through the curtains, and she felt no more at ease than she had the night before. 
Are they still friends? 
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story ideas are always welcome, but remember that it can take a while for me to get to it! :)
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crazy-only · 3 months
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oscar finding his reporter cute ! (fluff)
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pairing: oscar x fem!reader
premis: oscar helps a shy reporter during an interview and ends up crushing on her! short and sweet, fluff!
preface: posting this in honor of him getting 2nd place in austria !! good job oscar <3
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you felt a tap on your shoulder and you spun around, finding a tall guy staring at you. his eyes were bored and a bit annoyed.
“um, can i help you?” you ask politely, checking your watch.
you had already interviewed the drivers that came in third and second place, and you were currently waiting on the first-placing driver to show up.
truth be told, you weren’t really qualified for the job—your sister decided to suddenly honeymoon with her wife and begged for you to replace her. hesitantly, you agreed, dying your hair to match her natural color and hoping your features were similar enough.
the young man scoffed and ran a hand over his face. “woman, you’re joking, yeah?” he asked after rolling his eyes.
honestly, you would’ve assumed this moody guy was the winner as he wore a racing suit, certainly an f1 driver with the after effects of participating in a race apparent, sweat running down his neck leading to the contour of his—
no, y/n! focus! your sister called moments ago saying the winner of the race was extremely ugly, and, according to her words, “you can’t miss him.”
and, as much as you hated to admit it, the fiesty male was far too attractive to fit your sister’s description.
“sorry, i, um, don’t follow?” you say, nervously running your fingers through your hair, microphone in the other hand.
the man looked back to face an older man sporting a mclaren hat, the former muttering something while angrily staring at you.
is this what a red flag feels like before getting torn to shreds by a bull?
“ok, lisa, you’re on air!”
you turn around rapidly at the mention of your sister’s name, searching for the driver you needed to interview.
“um,” you start shyly, looking into the scary camera. “we are still waiting on the pole position winner for the silverstone grand prix—“
there’s laughs amongst the viewers, and you cock your head trying to find their source of amusement.
“—well we are waiting on him to arrive, so sit tight while we try to find him!”
yet, to your horror, the camera stays on, the filming crew motioning for you to continue.
“hey.”
you turn to find the same utterly attractive yet rude driver staring down at you, mouth in a line and arms crossed as if he were the one that should be stressed.
“oh, you again,” you accidentally mutter into the microphone, freezing once you realized what you’ve done. except, the crowd simply laughed.
you cursed under your breath.
they’re laughing at you, y/n. you’re such a dumbass.
“yes,” the young man said sarcastically while tugging the mic towards himself, only helping to raise the volume of the laughs from the stands. “it’s me again.”
you nodded, anxiety burning in your veins, not knowing what to say. this was not as simple as your sister had said it would be.
“while we’re waiting for the grand prix winner,” oscar said, now stealing the mic completely, “why don’t i ask you some questions, reporter?”
crap!
“uh, okay,” you murmur into the mic the driver stretches towards you. for some reason your palms started getting clammy. was it your nerves?
he puts a hand on his hip and pretends to be in a deep state of thinking. “let’s start with an easy question.” he came closer so your bodies were only a pace away.
“who’s your favorite driver?”
uh oh.
“th-that would be, erm, lan?—lando!”
phew. thank god you remembered the name of the last driver you interviewed!
but the driver interviewing you walked away, suddenly a bit angry. then he ran back into frame, looking into the camera. “do you see how i’m treated around here?”
the crowds laughed, and you hid your smile.
was this the same person you met earlier? how was he so. so—so amiable?
“ok ms. reporter, next one: do you have a sister?”
“yes,” you said into the outstretched mic, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice.
then the man brushed his hand against yours just below the vision of the camera, and—was that a smile? did he just smile at you?
your breathing slowed, thankfully feeling a lot more calm.
you continued, saying, “i do. her name is y/n.”
the driver nodded, acting as if he were actually interested. “is she cute?” the man whispered into the mic.
and god, you would’ve thought this was a comedy show thanks to the immense amount of laughing if he weren’t dressed in a sweaty race suit that perfectly hugged his abdominal region and quads—
then you saw him walk slightly out of the frame, waving at you frantically. he mouthed:
ask me about the race!
good idea.
you leaned into the mic the man held, flooded by his addicting scent. “how was your race?”
“ah, thanks for asking,” he said, clearly having a talent for acting. “it was great! i’m really happy with my results. i scored a lot of points for my team, so honestly i couldn’t have asked for more.”
he went on about the technicalities and such of his car, what went wrong and right, what he should improve on; thankfully he talked until the time was out.
“well, there you have it!” you say as the camera crew gave you the cue to stop the interview.
“what’s your name, again?” you whispered to him.
at this point he just leaned into the mic. “it’s oscar piastri.” the crowd went wild, making him smile.
for some reason you got stupidly jealous.
“seems our pole position driver never showed up—“ you started saying, until the camera crew pointed towards a lit screen with words.
“but nonetheless, thank you for tuning in,” you said, and then continued reading the transcript, explaining the time and date for the next race.
once finished, the camera finally shut off, and with a big sigh, you retired your mic and made your way to your car. never again were you doing another favor for your sister.
“good job, y/n,” oscar murmured, having bent down from behind so only you could hear him. “turns out you are cute.”
fuck. how did he find out?
you swept around, hand over mouth in dread.
“oh, come on, it was obvious!” oscar said proudly. “you did not know a single thing about racing—and you look so different from your sister.”
you simply stood in shock. quietly gauging whatever despicable plan he was carrying out.
“do you still not know who i am?” he asked incredulously.
you cocked your head. “you’re a driver. what was it? osc-oscar pastry?”
he handed his heavy helmet over to you.
“there. now you’ll never forget my name again. it’s fucking piastri.” he ran his hands over his face, losing patience.
“ask me who won the race!” oscar finally said, cracking.
“um, we aren’t in the interview anymore?—“
he shook you by the arms, saying, “i won the goddamn race! i got first, y/n!”
“you’re the grand prix winner?! b-but my sister told me you were supposed to be unattractive!”
oscar raised his eyebrows, asking “is that so?” he tilted his head slightly, a cheshire cat’s smile forming.
“does that mean you find me attractive?”
uh oh.
your body was on fire, maybe more anxious than from the interview.
“since you kept staring at my body the whole interview,” oscar said as he smirked down at you, his brown eyes clearly satisfied at your shocked reaction. “take me out and i won’t tell.”
maybe you would do more of your sister’s favors.
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fastandcarlos · 3 months
Text
One More Won’t Hurt, Right? : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: watching your family at the paddock gives charles all the feels
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Your eyes glanced to your left as you overheard someone clearing their throat, watching as Charles walked into the driver’s room, taking his rightful spot beside you, offering you a warm smile.
His attention was soon captured however by the pair of giggles that came from across the room, your two children playing happily with each other until they realised that their dad had re-entered the room.
“Daddy! You’re here!” Your daughter squealed, unsteadily rising to her feet.
“Hey princess,” Charles grinned, kneeling down so that he was at the same height to her, engulfing her in his embrace. “I hope you’ve been good for mummy.”
Her head nodded as her arms loosely wrapped around Charles’ neck. “We’ve been really good,” she giggled, feeling a kiss be pressed by Charles against her cheek.
He’d spent the past couple of hours having his final practice before qualifying, and although the car itself didn’t feel great, all of that was forgotten as soon as he was back with his family – his three favourite humans.
“We missed you.” Your daughter then suddenly added, taking Charles by surprise.
The two of you had done a great job raising your kids, plenty of people around the paddock complimented you on how well mannered and kind they both were.
It didn’t take long for your son to join in with the action, throwing himself at Charles with a groan. Luckily for him, Charles just about managed to react in time and pull his son into the other side of his embrace.
“Daddy, we played with cars, ate ice cream, and mummy even let us go up onto the roof terrace,” your son hurriedly informed Charles, bouncing up and down in excitement.
“I hope you were watching daddy’s car,” he teased, pulling back to study them both, chuckling loudly when they both nodded back at him.
“Let’s finish our drawing,” your daughter suggested, pointing to the pieces of paper on the floor, dragging your son away from his father. Charles’ brows furrowed but your daughter insisted that he was not allowed to see anything.
As the two ran away, Charles stood back up again, snaking his arm around your waist as you both continued to watch your children smile and joke with each other.
“How did we do it?” Charles pondered, feeling your eyes staring back at him. “I mean, how did we get so lucky to create two perfect babies?”
Your shoulders shrugged as you felt Charles press a gentle kiss against your lips, pulling you closer towards him the moment he felt you linger a little longer than you should in such a place.
Your smile was wide as you pulled away, “they must have got the good genes of their mum.”
Charles’ eyes went wide as you spoke, jabbing into your side to make you squeal, pushing his hand away from you.
“We’ve really got the perfect family,” Charles whispered, resting his head against the top of yours in admiration.
“What are you doing?” Your son called out, cringing as he watched the two of you affectionately hold onto one another, everything that your kids hated to see.
“We’re making a baby,” Charles blurted out, earning himself a slap on the chest from you. Luckily for Charles, your son was far too innocent to understand, simply nodding his head.
“Okay,” he shrugged, averting his eyes back to his drawing.
Although the time wasn’t now, you knew in a few years your son would be the image of Charles, they had the same cheeky humour that had everyone around him in fits of giggles.
“I can’t believe that you’d tell him that.”
“Would it be such a bad thing?” Charles challenged as your stare hardened, eyes looking at him in disbelief. “The first two turned out pretty perfect, why not see if we can make it a hattrick?”
You found yourself speechless for a few moments as you tried to take in what Charles had said. Sure, the two of you discussed having another baby sometimes, but never as seriously as Charles seemed to be right now.
“What are you thinking?” Charles asked you, trying his best to read you and get a picture of what you were thinking.
“That you’re an idiot,” you joked.
“I’m right though, aren’t I?” He pushed, “one more won’t hurt, right?”
“Charles, are we really doing this now?” You chuckled, taking a look around the room.
“Why not? I mean, we could ask Carlos to take the kids for a bit,” he whispered.
Your hand hit against his chest once again, sure, a third child would be like a dream, but Charles’ driver room was not where you wanted that dream to become a reality.
“How long have you actually been thinking about this?” You enquired, keen to know where his sudden enthusiasm had come from.
“Honestly, since the day that I met you,” he admitted.
“What do you mean?”
“The second I met you I knew that I wanted you to be my forever, but more so than that I knew that you were going to be the best mother to my kids. Truthfully, that day I decided I wanted a family of thousands, just to see you be the best mum in the world.”
There was a moment of silence between you both as Charles took your hand. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing good in life was, but he was absolutely determined that the two of you would make it all work.
When you remained silent, Charles cleared his throat. “Why don’t we have a think when we’re back at home, sit down and really think about if this is something we should do.”
If you were honest, you didn’t need time to think. Your mind was made up. Having another mini Charles running around the apartment was something you adored.
“Let’s do it…but perhaps when the kids aren’t around,” you smiled.
“My offer still stands,” Charles teased, but your head shook, you could never move your kids when they were having so much fun.
“Later.”
“Like, tonight later?” Charles whispered close against your ear, pressing a trail of kisses down the length of your neck.
“Play your cards right,” you hummed in response, trying your best to avoid Charles’ advances beside you.
You knew what he was doing. And so did he. But he just couldn’t resist the temptation of trying.
“Later,” you repeated, untangling yourself from his hold. “Duty calls,” you smirked, just as your daughter called you both over. Charles’ eyes rolled as he walked over too, keeping his eyes firmly on you.
“I’m holding you to that one.
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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adrienneleclerc · 3 months
Text
Pay For Dinner
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N watches a TikTok and decides to do the same thing to see how Charles would react
Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors, you already know
A/N: I am currently working on a Lando Norris fanfic, If that goes well, MAYBE I can continue writing for him and also start writing for Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri, if thats what y'all want.
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Y/N knows that money is no object for Charles, he's an F1 driver for fuck's sake. So when Y/N saw this couple on TikTok, vitoandniyah, where Niyah pulls a "prank" on her boyfriend, she decided to try it out. Qualifying went okay, Y/N was waiting for Charles in the hospitality and when he came, she stood up from the couch and gave Charles a quick kiss.
"I know qualifying didn't exactly go like you wanted, but i was thinking we could go out to eat." Y/N suggested
"Yeah, that sounds good, mon coeur. Do you know where to go?" Charles asked.
"I was thinking you pick since I've never been to Spain before." Y/N said. Charles nodded his head.
"Yeah, that sounds good, baby. We could go to Xera, we just gotta stop by at the hotel so i could change." Charles said.
"Do i need to change?" Y/N asked
"Nope, you look beautiful, lets go." Charles said.
They exited the paddock and Y/N stayed in the car while Charles went up to his room to change. Y/N watched the TikTok again so she'll know what to say and she hopes that Charles would react in a sort of similar fashion as Vito. Charles opened the car door and he was wearing a nice button down shirt with dress pants. When he entered the car, Charles gave her a kiss,
"You ready to go, mon coeur?" Charles asked.
"Yeah, about that, mi vida, I don't have money." Y/N said, trying to look sad but Charles just stared at her
"What do you mean?" Charles asked.
"Well i wanted to pay for our dinner since you did better in qualifying today than in Canada." Y/N explained.
"Mon coeur, I love you. that was thoughtful of you, but it's okay that I'm paying." Charles said.
"But I WANT to pay." Y/N said
"When did you ever pay for our dates? When did i let you pay for ANYTHING? Remember, the money that you make is your money but the money I make is our money. Now let's go, I'm hungry." Charles said.
"Muñeco, can we go tomorrow so i can pay?" Y/N asked
"Okay, if you really want to pay, here." Charles said, placing his wallet in Y/N's hand.
"Really?" Y/N asked
"Yes, pick any card you want, and when the check comes, place the card on top of it, make it seem like you're paying since you want to so bad." Charles said.
"But you're stilling paying though." Y/N argues and thats when Charles turns in his seat so he can face Y/N
"Okay, let me just tell you this, mon coeur, as long as we are dating, you won't have to pay for anything ever, unless I'm not with you, obviously." Charles said.
"Aw, amor, that was so sweet. And it's a prank, I do have money." Y/N said.
"That's good that you have money, i was going to transfer 8 thousand euros into your bank account." Charles said.
"You are the best boyfriend ever." Y/N said, giving him a quick kiss and she her phone dinged, Y/N checked the notification. "Charles!" Y/N turned her phone to Charles to read the notification 'Charles Leclerc has sent you 8,000 euros' "Seriously?"
"Yes, now lets go eat and you can use that money to go shopping since you never been here before." Charles said.
"Okay, I love you." Y/N said.
"I love you too." Charles said before pulling out of the hotel parking lot.
The End
Hope y’all liked it! Sorry for not posting recently
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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months
Note
spencer with an alt gf who's got tattoos, piercings, dyed hair and all that. i don't really mind what you do with it im just yearning for my man rn
Spencer introduces his gf to the team.
“Spencer stop fidgeting, you’re making me nervous.” You and your boyfriend are sat in a restaurant waiting for his teammates to arrive.
Spencer and you had hit the year mark and he’d finally felt it was time for his team to meet you.
They know he has a girlfriend, of that he’s never been shy about flaunting, but they’ve never actually met you.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Want another lemonade?” You shake your head, leaning into him to kiss his cheek.
“I’m okay Spence, it’s gonna be great.” You hope it will be. You want his friends and coworkers to like you but even you can realise how different you and Spencer are appearance wise.
Spencer’s all sweater vests and cute ties and cardigans, and you’re all visible tattoos, bright colored tops that stop over your naval to reveal a pretty piercing with a shell dangling on it and distressed jeans.
“Well hello pretty boy!” You recognize him as Derek. “And hello, pretty boy’s girlfriend.”
“Hi, Derek right?” He nods and you introduce yourself, Penelope right behind him and she can’t contain her grin.
“Oh you’re a badass, I already know it.” She says, pulling you in for a hug that you eagerly reciprocate.
JJ and Emily are next and then Hotch and Rossi.
“Where did you two meet?” Rossi asks and Spencer begins recalling the details of how you bumped into him on the subway, headphones on and how he’d helped you steady yourself while giving you all the details of how that was dangerous.
“It probably wasn’t the best first impression but I took his advice. And then we saw each other at that cute cafe and I had to give him my number because it was clearly not coincidental.”
Hotch smiles as you talk, a silent message passing between him and Spencer.
“It doesn’t bother you that he’s always away?” Derek asks and you shake your head.
“I’m not always easily available either,” his team frowns. “Spencer didn’t tell you?” You turn to him and find him blushing and you smile.
“I’m a linguist so most days I’m studying or teaching a class about what I’m studying. I also teach little kids a second language of their parents’ choosing. It’s a hard balance, but it’s fun.”
Rossi and Derek’s smiles are probably the widest. “You’re badass.” Derek says and you smile, cheeks hurting from his sincerity.
Emily chimes in for the first time, “Where do you get your tattoos done? They’re pretty cool.”
You grin again, Spencer chuckling when you say, “They also deter cannibals.”
Penelope and Hotch smile, “So you’re a not so secret nerd?” You shrug, not really knowing if you’d qualify.
“I mean, Spencer tells me crazy facts that I whip out sometimes but mostly I just have a couple things I like.”
The night ends spectacularly and Spencer can’t stop smiling as he walks with you. “So they’re nice,” you tell him and he nods.
“They all love you.” You feel your nerves release at that. “I think the girls will be inviting you to their monthly girl’s night soon enough.”
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evilminji · 1 year
Text
Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:
"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)
Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.
So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.
God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.
Don't get why everyone's so upset.
Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.
And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.
Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!
There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!
Then? Danny showes up.
Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.
Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.
So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.
TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.
He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.
It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.
He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.
Right there.
IN THE WATCHTOWER.
In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.
People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.
Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...
And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."
N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.
Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?
NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.
Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.
Just? Marriage Meet Cute.
@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe
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ariestrxsh · 7 days
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🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, blowjob, voyeurism, blackmail, mean!roughdom!chris
🖤 author's note: 🖤 part two is going to be some of the filthiest, roughest shit i've ever written, so proceed with caution.
🖤 summary: 🖤 your manager, chris, finds out you've been giving away free drinks at your bartending job, and he blackmails you. he won't tell your little secret as long as you can give him what he wants..
this story was requested/inspired by this ask 💖 (promise that i will be serving filth in part two)
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Closer part one
You rolled your eyes when you walked into work, saw the schedule, and realized who you were closing with.
You loved everything about being a bartender. You liked serving drinks, flirting with the customers, and listening to music all night. You made decent money, and you even liked your coworkers. Well, most of them.
The one thing you couldn't stand about your job was Chris, your manager, who was insufferable to work with. Anytime the two of you shut down the bar together, he'd waste time either playing around on his phone, sitting in his car smoking weed, or hiding in the backroom doing god knows what. This meant you'd end up doing most of the closing tasks alone.
All Chris really did was count the money and lock the door at the end of the night, and it always pissed you off that he got paid more than you. It's not like he was better-qualified for the position or had a better work ethic than you did, but he'd landed himself a position in management because the owner was his best friend's dad.
"Can't wait to close with you, sweetheart. You always get us out faster than I do with any of the other girls," Chris grinned at you with a tooth pick between his teeth while he leaned up against the stainless steel counter in a black tanktop and jeans.
"Wow, that's crazy, because we'd get out even faster if you could go one shift without getting high in the parking lot, and instead helped me rinse out all the beer taps," you snarked back.
"You know, I have way more important shit to worry about than wiping down surfaces. That's why I have you," Chris remarked, flashing you a smirk and brushing the back of his hand across your cheek. You pulled away and scoffed at him. "Love when you play hard to get," Chris whispered before wandering off towards the back. You rolled your eyes.
It was Friday night, which meant it'd be busy, and you were hoping to pull in enough tips to make rent by the end of the shift. You were getting into a flow, mixing drinks, and engaging in witty banter with some out-of-towners when your eye caught Chris heading out to the parking lot. There was a pretty blonde girl with him.
You finished serving the drink in your hand and turned to your coworker, Sam. "Hey, cover me while I go have a cigarette?" You leaned in and asked. She gave you the thumbs up. You went to the back, shuffling around in your purse for your American spirits.
You weren't gonna spy on Chris. You were just curious to see where he was going, who he was with, and what they were doing. Okay, fine. You were spying on Chris.
You made your way outside, sparking up the end of your cigarette, and heading towards the back of the building where the smoking area was. You didn't see Chris or the girl anywhere at first until your eyes landed on Chris' car. Chris was in the driver's seat, and it looked like he was alone.
That was until you saw that Chris had a fistful of her blonde hair in his grip, bouncing her up and down on his lap. You studied Chris' expression, the way it was steeped in desire, the way his jaw hung slightly open, and the way he was peering down. He was definitely getting head in his car.
The girl's head bobbed up down, disappearing and reappearing behind the dashboard. You knew you shouldn't be watching, and you always thought you'd be grossed out if you ever caught Chris doing anything like that, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.
You sat there, taking drag after drag off your cigarette while you watched Chris enjoying himself in his car. In your deepest, darkest fantasies, you wondered what he sounded like behind the glass windows.
A wetness started to pool between your legs, and it's not that you were jealous that you weren't the one doing it, but.. fuck, were you a little jealous? You watched in awe until you'd smoked your cig all the way down to the filter.
You knew it would be hard to hate Chris and be annoyed with his closing process when your mind was overwhelmed with daydreams about sucking him off. You threw your cigarette on the ground and smushed it into the asphalt with your sneaker.
Thankfully, the night stayed busy, and you were able to keep your mind off the incident momentarily when an older gentleman who immediately caught your eye walked in through the door and sat at the end of the bar. You noted how handsome he was with his salt and pepper hair, his nice suit, and his intense stare. He looked like he could be in his forties, but you didn't mind. You liked older men.
"Whatcha drinking?" You smiled, approaching him. "A double of your finest scotch. Neat," he replied, looking deep into your soul. What a refined drinking order. He paid for his scotch right away, probably not planning on staying very long, but the two of you hit it off.
For next hour or so, he nursed his drink while you got to know a little bit about each other. You learned that he was a professor who taught philosophy, and he learned that you were a avid lover of philosophy. The subject had meandered towards absurdist theory and Albert Camus' works.
"You know, I remain unconvinced that life or anything at all really, has any meaning," you leaned onto the bar, looking into his dark, sultry eyes, "if there is no inherent meaning, then that takes all the pressure off." You grabbed his empty glass off the counter between the two of you, and you gestured to see if he wanted another.
"Please," he accepted, "don't you think it's a little sad if you don't give life some kind of meaning?" He squinted at you, trying to pick your brain.
"No, not at all, because we humans subconsciously give meaning to nearly everything that happens in our everyday lives, and it actually distorts our view of objective reality and keeps us assuming and imprisoned to a slew of reactions based off of a bunch of self-drawn conclusions," you replied, "plus if I were sad about life not having any meaning, I'd be a nihilist, not an absurdist." You topped off his glass and slid it over to him with a smug look on your face.
"Hmm. Smart girl," he responded, picking up his glass and taking a few sips. You liked that you'd found a man who could actually hold an intellectual conversation with you, and you boldly requested his number. He wrote it down on a napkin and slid it over to you.
"Does this mean I'm gonna see you again?" He stared at you longingly. "It can mean whatever you want it to mean," you smirked at him.
When he finished his drink, he pulled out his wallet to pay, but you stopped him. "Last one's on the house. Thanks for the mentally stimulating discussion. I don't get much of that around here," you insisted.
"Maybe that's because you're talking to boys instead of men," he suggestively raised an eyebrow at you and left you a generous tip before leaving the bar.
Shit. You hadn't even caught his name.
The rest of the night went well. It was fast-paced, everyone was in a good mood, and the tips were flowing in. Last call rolled around, and you started to clean up your station. "Who was that pretentious douchebag you were talking to?" Chris came up behind you, rasping directly into your ear and startling you, causing you to drop a shotglass.
If you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little jealous.
"Shit!" You exclaimed, bending down to clean up the broken glass. Chris' eyes were drawn to your perfectly-shaped ass that your jeans hugged so well. "He teaches philosophy at the University. But I didn't catch his name," you replied.
"But you got his number," Chris snatched the folded napkin hanging out of your back pocket. "Give me that back!" You exclaimed, reaching for it as Chris held it above his head.
"I'll give it back to you, but first. You and I need to talk," Chris' tone got a little more serious. "About what?" You asked, picking up on the sudden shift in his voice. "You know, Professor Pretentious was drinking Macallan Scotch Whiskey, don't you?" Chris inquired as if that was supposed to mean something to you. "And?" You asked, shrugging at Chris.
"Do you have any idea how expensive that shit is and how dead you would be if Boss Man knew you were giving it out for free to old men you wanted to bone?" Chris leaned in close and gave you a disappointed look. "Well, we won't know, because he won't find out about it, will he, Chris?" You shot him a look.
"Well, the cameras show you handing him two drinks, but his bill only has one listed," Chris responded, indicating he had evidence. "Chris, come on. You wouldn't do that," you sneered at him. "Sure, I would. Unless you give me something I want. Then I won't tell boss man, and I'll give you professor dickhead's number back," Chris smirked at you deviously.
"What do you want?" You rolled your eyes, not really having a choice but to hear him out. "I'll think about it. In the meantime, I'm gonna go do inventory and count the safe, and you're gonna clean this shit up. Fucking loser," Chris said, motioning towards the broken glass on the ground and rolling his eyes. Then he left out the front door, presumably to go smoke weed in his car.
The clock hit 2:00 a.m. It was the end of the night, and no thanks to Chris, all your closing duties were done even earlier than you'd expected. The two of you were the only staff still there, and you were ready to hear whatever sick ultimatum Chris was about to give to you.
You trudged into the office where he was sitting on his phone with his feet kicked up on the desk. "All done, princess?" Chris asked, lustfully glancing you up and down. "Ew, don't call me that," you responded. "Why? You like it too much?" He chuckled at you.
"What's it gonna take for you to keep your mouth shut and give me back my future husband's phone number?" You crossed your arms, avoiding addressing his accusation. Chris fixed his contemplative eyes on you and gave you a bit of a malicious grin, "All you have to do is let me fuck you."
You were immediately taken aback, thinking you didn't hear him right. "What!?" You swallowed hard and narrowed your gaze at him. He stood up and got into your face, making you feel small and weak. "What? You liked watching me get head in the parking lot, and now you're getting all shy on me?" Chris cooed, stroking your cheek with his knuckles.
Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, and you found yourself unable to say anything. You were completely humiliated by the fact that he'd seen you peeping on him.
"Don't worry, princess. I won't tell anyone you like to watch. But I will tell Boss Man about the scotch if you don't let me do whatever I want to you," he said in a low, sexy voice, his carnal needs carved into the expression on his face.
"It kind of feels like you're not giving me a choice here," you studied his hypnotic blue and eyes and your gaze fell to his full lips.
"Well, then here are your choices. Let me spell them out for you. First scenario, I tell the boss, you get fired, you go work at a new bar, and you never have to see me again. Second scenario, you get on your fucking knees and you let me use that little back-talking mouth of yours and whatever other way I want to have you, and I'll make this whole problem of yours disappear," he winked at you and leaned in, chuckling into your ear,
"And if you choose the last option, I'm just letting you know in advance, I like it disgustingly rough."
part two posted here 💖
taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @munchingmini @butterbean-01 @coolasice01 @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @miss-delicious @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @mattsfavbigtitties @new2024cats4life @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @sturnrc @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @aalirosesblog @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @karttpet @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @slxtformatt @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mynameisuser834 @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx
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astonmartinii · 1 year
Text
tight knit | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
spa 2021, where a knitting hobby comes in handy
yourusername
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 401,874 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: hello spa !! one of my fave tracks and i'm so excited for this weekend AND for those who asked, here's my current project, it's a sweater :)))))))
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user1: oh to receive pics of charles like that
user2: i love how she's like here's my fine ass bf but more importantly here's my update on my knitting
danielricciardo: is the man on the second slide single?
yourusername: HE'S MINE BACK OFF (p.s. i love you dan, but don't joke about that shit i have approximately 200 teenagers in my dms threatening violence everyday over him)
charles_leclerc: cherie, i didn't know that :(
yourusername: i'd fight all of them and more for your hand
charles_leclerc: my knight in shining armour
danielricciardo: okay i was trying to make a joke, it was not an invitation to prove how in love you guys are we get it
user3: i too wish i had a bf rich enough that i could travel and knit full time
pierregasly: have a day off for once
yourusername: keep on like that and you'll never get that panda
pierregasly: but you promised !!!!!
yourusername: be nice then
charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,208,760 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: calm before the storm at spa
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user4: now where does y/n get all of these cut head accessories?
yourusername: vinted babes
user5: we love a thrifty queen
user6: storm meaning driving the ferrari shit box
yourusername: wow you look great, banishing me to the row behind you just to take this photo was defo worth it
charles_leclerc: you were there for two mins max then you sat with me stop these false narratives
yourusername: lies it was five minutes cause you didn't like the angle
charles_leclerc: i want to look handsome is that too much to ask
yourusername: you're always pretty baby
user7: can they stop like i am so lonely i can't see this
carlossainz55: let it be known that the only way charles can beat me in chess is with y/n's help
yourusername: nooooooo i never helped i was knitting
charles_leclerc: i wasn't cheating !! y/n was just being nice to me
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f1
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 708,954 others
tagged: yourusername
f1: well, that's one way to spend qualifying's red flag. y/n y/ln spent her time in the ferrari garage working on her knitwear.
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user10: she said in her spa post it's a jumper i hope it's for charles
yourusername: it is, lord knows that boy needs all the help he can get in the wardrobe department
charles_leclerc: rude !!!! you never say anything
yourusername: you're always so proud i can't tell you it's bad
charles_leclerc: life ruined
yourusername: but you're so pretty no one cares about your criminal trouser collection
charles_leclerc: back handed compliment, but a compliment nonetheless
user11: she's so unbothered i love her
alexalbon: okay but when is my jumper coming @yourusername i ordered it last month
yourusername: it's coming i swear !!!
alexalbon: you let charles skip the line again didn't you
yourusername: maybe ...
yourusername
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liked by lilymunhe, charles_leclerc and 481,056 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: hoping for a drier sunday, drowned rat is definitely not my aesthetic
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user12: the first picture i am going to rip my skin off
charles_leclerc: is this the appropriate time to say save a horse ride a cowboy?
pierregasly: this is why ferrari is a red flag
yourusername: howdy
pierregasly: you people are gross
charles_leclerc: you talk about ur dick at any give opportunity
yourusername: and no one actually calls you tripod
user13: damn.... couples that drag together stay together
pierregasly: ok. i will refrain from talking about your sex life publicly.
user14: i love that y/n posts about knitting just as much as she posts about charles.
yourusername: charles is the side chick
charles_leclerc: it's true i've been told to roll over in bed to make more room for the yarn
f1wagsupdates
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liked by user15, user16 and 2,304 others
tagged: yourusername
f1wagsupdates: appreciation post for my favourite wag !!
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user17: i want to be her when i grow up
user18: i need her hair care routine asap
user19: can we stop putting these women on a pedestal for like no good reason?
user20: usually i'd agree but y/n has nothing but kind and a good role model, so if you idolise one wag it might as well be her
user21: her style is so underrated
user22: i need the jacket in the third slide
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scuderiaferrari
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 770,984 others
tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc
scuderiaferrari: there's two types of people during a red flag at spa
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user23: they're so precious to me
charles_leclerc: i wish i could relax that much in the ferrari garage
yourusername: i am not relaxed, i am actually the most stressed, i just hide it well
charles_leclerc: maybe we'll confiscate the needles for the actual races
yourusername: probably the only wise strategy in that garage
user24: i love how y/n keeps going for ferrari's neck and charles just can't reply
carlossainz55: it's so cold can i get my christmas jumper order early @yourusername ?
yourusername: that's a big queue to skip chilli i'm not sure i can comply with that
carlossainz55: if i changed my name to charles would this change?
yourusername: maybe 🤔
user25: the sky camera is obsessed with her and i am exactly the same thank you for the content
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 508,673 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: it's a bit cold in spa so charlie's new jumper (just finished) is coming in handy straight away
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user26: LORD PLEASE I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS
user27: okay this is cute and all, but DAMN that jumper is so fucking cute y/n is so talented
charles_leclerc: i think the phrase is: came in clutch
yourusername: you're welcome baby
charles_leclerc: i retract my previous statement about confiscating the knitting needles and i will give up more space in bed for the yarn if this is what i get
yourusername: not us having a polyamorous relationship with KNITTING
user28: so like i need y/n to open up a shop
alexalbon: i hope mine comes next
yourusername: i'm on it already albono
lilymunhe: on his jumper or the one for me that he asked for
yourusername: yours obvs
alexalbon: mugged off again
charles_leclerc
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,409,874 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: words cannot describe how much i love you (and your knitting). as george would say i am snug as a bug in a rug and it's all thanks to you
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user29: SNUG AS A BUG IN A RUG CHARLES WHO ARE YOU
yourusername: can they start the race so we can go be snug as a bug in a rug back at the hotel?
charles_leclerc: omw to the fia hq rn
yourusername: thanks baby
georgerussell63: i thought this was my job but thanks charles i guess
charles_leclerc: man of the people and the cuddles
user30: lord i am so lonely
danielricciardo: y/n x enchante collab when?
yourusername: coming to mclaren rn
charles_leclerc: so my cuddles mean nothing?
yourusername: have you seen this man's pricing we'll be rich baby
charles_leclerc: we are rich baby
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note: pls enjoy, requests may take a while cause your girl managed to break her finger lol
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tunafruitt · 8 months
Text
--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞
SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader
[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]
Character(s): NEUVILLETTE, ZHONGLI
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-> [ NEUVILLETTE ]
“Oh, the Iudex of Fontaine is the creator’s chosen suitor? Okay.. He’s a qualified and accomplished man. I can see why the creator chose someone like him.”
With the one and only hydro dragon sovereign stuck to your side at all times, it was no surprise to anyone that the two of you had gotten close. But the creator falling in love with him?? That’s different.
Of course, the people of Teyvat had all wished to have a chance with you. And of course, everyone knew it was impossible… but hope is a good thing right? They knew the day would come though, just not so soon..
When the people found out that the Creator had someone they loved more than the usual “I love all of Teyvat equally and platonically.” EVERYONE WENT CRAZY. What do you mean the creator has a LOVER? What do you mean they’ve probably kissed. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS THE IUDEX OF FONTAINE????
Nevertheless, no one was actually disappointed. They had heard you talk about him through the screen even before you descended to Teyvat. They were glad you were happy… I guess (though they wish it was with them.) Fontaine obviously took pride in having the creator spend a lot of their time residing there, even more pride in the fact that you were romantically involved with a citizen of Fontaine.
─━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
Neuvillette wasn’t quite sure how to react to all of the publicity the news had gotten. Every time the two of you go out together he feels the stares coming from the people around you. The stares weren’t the usual stares he got when he was doing a court trial.. they felt new to him. He was glad that he was at least able to say more affectionate words to you out in public though!
“Monsieur Neuvillette! I’ve heard the recent news.. haha.. so, how’s it being with the Creator? Bet you feel real lucky, huh.“
“I would consider myself lucky to be with Y/N. I feel that no amount of love give—“
“Y/N???? I-I MEAN— YOU’RE ON A FIRST NAME BASIS WITH YOUR GRACE?!”
“I am. Now, if I may continue…”
When he’s not actively working and someone asks him about you, he could yap about you for HOURS. So much to the point people avoid bringing you up even in non-professional events. He’s literally lovestruck. Heart eyes when he looks at you and everything. (everyone’s secretly side-eyeing him… out of jealousy.)
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-> [ ZHONGLI ]
“Hm.. The Wangsheng Funeral Consultant..? He is quite a handsome man, but is that all? Of course we respect him! It’s just that.. I expected the Creator’s suitor to be an Archon or something. But if that’s what the creator wants, we should respect their choice right?”
The people of Liyue had begun to put the pieces together. No wonder you were always visiting the Funeral Parlor.. wait, were the times that the both of you were spotted together at Iron Tongue Tian’s Stall listening to the telling of old stories.. DATES?? How could they have only just now realized…
Well, now that the news is out at least you can comfortably hold his hand outside of the Parlor! Not everyone is completely happy with this though.. Who might that be? The other archons of course! They all took pride in being among some of the closest beings in Teyvat to you, but now that they weren’t all equally close to you, feelings of jealousy began to rise.
Zhongli secretly felt smug about that though. I mean, of course anyone would. Being the Creator’s lover is probably the biggest flex in all of Teyvat!! Only certain people are able to even be close to the Creator, not to mention TOUCH them. (which are the playable characters.) Oh, and doing affectionate things like lovers do WITH THE CREATOR?? The things people would do to be in Zhongli’s place.
─━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
You and Zhongli were taking a walk in the city of Liyue as you always do. There was a cool breeze and the orange lights coming from the food stalls gave the atmosphere a comfortable, warm feeling. You looked back at Zhongli who had already been staring at you. He’s about to put his arms around you when out of nowhere—
“Your Grace! Fancy seeing you here.. ehe. Are you here for the Lantern Rite? Oh! You should come to the Windblume Festival again! We’ll make sure to make it extraaa special, just for you. Speaking of special— There’s a new wine back in Mondstadt made specially from the freshest dandelio—“
“Hello, Venti.”
“Oh. Hello Mr. Zhongli. Are you busy right now? If not, the Funeral Parlor is calling for you. You should probably go.”
“The Funeral Parlor is closed today, Venti.”
lmao archons actively trying to get you to spend time with them instead of Zhongli. (They can’t stand to see you hugging, holding hands, and doing all kinds of sappy activities with him)
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AGHHH SECOND WRITING EVER!! Had fun ^_^ might do a part 2 with Itto and Xiao (or other characters) feel free to leave recommendations for any other characters!! Likes nd reblogs are much appreciated ^_^
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julietsf1 · 20 days
Text
Irritating, But Irresistible – Franco Colapinto X Reader
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Summary: Alex Albon’s sister is not happy with Logan’s new replacement who seems to be very sure of himself.
Words: 8k
Warnings: cursing, smut after ***
A/N: this is my first time writing anything, just wanted to do something w franco since there is not much out there yet :) English isn't my first language so I hope it reads okay! smut is just the last part so you can read without and it will still be a complete story *muah*
________________________________________________________
It was press conference day at Monza, one of the busiest times during a Formula 1 weekend. I walked through the paddock, juggling my internship deadlines on my phone. Even with my hectic schedule, nothing beat being around the buzz of the F1 world, where I could support my brother Alex and enjoy the company of his friends. Today, however, my thoughts were consumed by Logan’s sudden exit and his replacement.
Franco Colapinto.
I had yet to meet him, but from what Alex had shared, I already had my preconceptions: talented, confident, but most likely arrogant—a rookie straight from Formula 2 who had taken Logan’s seat.
I had been devastated by the news. Of course, Logan hadn’t been performing as well as he did in F2, but he and I had formed a special bond over the course of the past seasons. After every crash, when Logan would be back in the team garage to sit out the race, I had been there to talk with him, and we developed a deep and valuable friendship. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated by the team not sticking with him until Newey would join next season and provide a better car.
As I approached Alex and George Russell, they were already deep in conversation, Alex’s usual easygoing grin on his face as George prattled on with his distinctly old-fashioned vocabulary.
“And I dare say, Alex, it’s an absolute travesty that the press still insists on asking the same infernal questions,” George was saying, sipping from his water bottle. “There’s only so many times one can answer, ‘What’s your strategy for qualifying?’ without going mad.”
Alex chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, George, don’t act like you don’t secretly love the attention.”
George sniffed, clearly unconvinced. “Attention, yes, but repetitive inquiries? It’s rather pedestrian. Honestly, one would expect a touch more intellectual curiosity.”
I grinned, stepping into the conversation. “You should start answering in riddles, George. Give them something to think about.”
George’s eyes lit up, considering the idea seriously. “You know, that’s not half bad. I could begin each answer with a Shakespearean quote. ‘To pit or not to pit, that is the question.’”
Alex burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Please do. It’ll be the highlight of the weekend.”
Before I could join in with my own jab, a smooth voice with a slight spanish accent interrupted our banter. “You must be Alex’s sister.”
I turned, and my breath caught for a second. Standing before me was Franco Colapinto, and he was—well, to be honest, he was a lot more attractive than I had expected. His dark hair was fluffy and slightly tousled as if he had just run a hand through it, giving him a charmingly casual look. His eyes—bright, shining with a mix of mischief and curiosity—immediately met mine, and there was something about the way they sparkled that unsettled me.
Franco stood with a relaxed confidence, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he waited for my response.
“And you must be Logan’s replacement,” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended, trying to ignore the little flip in my stomach.
Franco raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response, but his grin only grew wider, a playful glint in his bright eyes. “Franco Colapinto,” he introduced himself, extending his hand toward me.
I glanced at his hand but didn’t take it, crossing my arms instead. “Y/N.”
Franco didn’t miss a beat. He chuckled softly, undeterred by my cold reception. “Guess I’m not winning you over just yet.”
“You could say that,” I muttered under my breath, unable to stop myself from taking in his appearance again—his fluffy hair, the way the sunlight seemed to make his dark eyes even more intense.
“Give it time,” Franco said lightly, his tone soft but still laced with confidence. He shifted his gaze to Alex, giving a friendly nod. “See you up there, mate.”
As Franco walked away to the press room, I couldn’t help but stare after him, irritated by the way my heart skipped a beat. “He’s got some nerve,” I muttered.
Alex, always the peacemaker, sighed beside me. “Don’t be too hard on him, Y/N. He’s just trying to find his place.”
“Yeah, well, Logan had his place, and it was taken from him,” I shot back, folding my arms tighter across my chest.
George, ever the diplomat, chimed in with his usual formal tone. “Alas, it is the nature of this sport, Miss Albon. Drivers come and go as swiftly as the wind changes its course. It’s unfortunate, but inevitable.”
I sighed, knowing George was right but still unable to shake my irritation. I cast one last look at Franco, who was now chatting with some team members, his bright eyes still sparkling, that teasing grin still lingering on his lips.
The atmosphere that evening was electric. After a long day of press conferences and media obligations, the some of thedrivers, teams, and close friends gathered for a small party in the paddock’s private area. Music thumped through the speakers, and the energy was light despite the high-pressure weekend ahead.
I found myself by the bar, sipping a drink, trying to focus on my conversation with Lando and Oscar.
“You seriously didn’t even know how to do a basic rumba?” Lando was saying, laughing so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “Come on, Oscar. I thought Aussies were supposed to know how to dance.”
Oscar smirked, unbothered. “I’m a racing driver, not a dancer. I don’t need rhythm on the track, mate.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Rumba, Lando? That’s what you’re testing him on?”
Lando grinned, tossing his head back dramatically. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You know it’s important. It’s all about balance! Quick on your feet, suave with the moves—it’s practically the same thing as cornering at high speed.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure it’s not the same thing.”
“Well,” Lando shrugged, “when the media isn’t on your back, you’ve got to perfect something other than driving. For me, it’s dance moves. For George—” Lando leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “it’s his ancient vocabulary. I heard him use the word ‘beseech’ in an interview once. I thought we’d time-traveled.”
I burst out laughing, picturing George in full seriousness. “Oh my God, that’s so him.”
Lando wasn’t finished, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s not even the best part. He used it to answer a question about tire degradation. I swear!”
Oscar finally cracked a smile, shaking his head. “George could give my grandma a run for her money.”
I was about to add another quip when I caught sight of Franco across the room, his familiar silhouette standing out as he laughed with Max and Daniel. I quickly looked back at my drink, but Lando, ever observant, wasn’t going to let it slide.
“You keep staring at him,” Lando teased, nudging me with a smirk.
“What?” I blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not staring.”
Oscar, who had been quietly sipping his drink, glanced at me. “You kind of are.”
I frowned, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “I’m not. I just… don’t like him, that’s all.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’re not usually this flustered. It's kind of cute.”
“Shut up, Lando,” I shot back, though my voice lacked the sharpness I intended.
Oscar chuckled softly, glancing toward Franco. “You talk about him more than I’ve heard anyone talk about him since he joined.”
I rolled my eyes, clearly frustrated. “He’s arrogant, alright? Thinks he can just come in and—”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You don’t like him,” Lando interrupted with a grin, clearly not buying it. “But let’s be real—he’s not exactly lacking in the looks department, is he?”
I felt my face flush even more, and before I could respond, a familiar voice broke into the conversation. “What’s with the staring, cariño?”
My heart raced involuntarily, and my cheeks flushed red, but I forced a sarcastic smile. “I—I just don’t like that shirt, that’s all.”
Franco’s playful grin widened as he tilted his head slightly. “I’ll gladly take it off for you if you want me to.”
Lando burst into laughter and took a step back, clearly enjoying the tension. “Oh, I’ll leave you two to sort that out.”
Oscar, ever the quiet observer, gave a smirk and a knowing nod before following Lando, leaving me and Franco alone.
“You’re way too smug for someone who just got their seat,” I muttered, crossing my arms defensively.
Franco chuckled softly, his dark eyes still sparkling with amusement. “They brought me here for a reason, Y/N. There’s nothing wrong with being self-assured.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat as I found myself staring at his eyes again—the way they seemed to shimmer in the dim light. His presence unnerved me in a way that no one else ever had.
“I’ll prove it to you,” Franco said quietly, stepping closer, his voice dropping slightly, filled with both promise and challenge. He softly brushed his hand against my arm, the touch sending a shiver through me. “Just watch.”
Before I could respond, Max’s voice boomed from across the room. “Oi, Franco! Stop flirting! I got us another round of gin tonics!”
Franco glanced over his shoulder and smirked before turning back to me. “See you tomorrow,” he said, his voice soft and teasing, before walking off, leaving me standing there, heart racing for reasons I didn’t want to admit.
Friday morning’s free practice was the perfect chance for the teams to fine-tune their setups before qualifying, but for me, it was another opportunity to watch Franco. I stood in the Williams garage, my arms crossed as I kept one eye on the lap times flashing on the screen, the other on Franco’s progress on track.
“How’s he looking?” I asked Alex, trying to keep my tone neutral, but the curiosity in my voice betrayed me.
Alex, who had already come back into the garage mid-session, didn’t look away from the data in front of him. “Decent. He’s still getting used to the car, but he’s quick. He’s got potential, Y/N.”
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Potential doesn’t win races, though.”
Alex glanced at me with a grin. “You’re tough. Give him a break. He’s still new.”
Before I could argue back, James Vowles, the Williams team principal, stepped into the conversation, his voice measured and commanding, but always reassuring. “Patience, Y/N. Drivers need time to grow, especially in this environment. Franco’s performance has been promising so far, and that’s all we can ask for at this stage.”
I smirked, shaking my head. “I’m not sure Franco’s the ‘take time to grow’ type. He’s way too sure of himself.”
James folded his arms, smiling slightly while shaking his head. “Confidence is a tool, Y/N. If used correctly, it can be an asset. And from what I’ve seen, Franco understands that balance. Let’s not underestimate him too soon.”
Alex chuckled, nudging me. “Even James is on his side. Come on, give the guy a chance.”
As if summoned by the conversation, Franco’s Williams car came flying past the garage on track, a blur of blue and white as it whipped around the corner. I watched his lap times closely—each split was faster than the last.
“Looks like he’s getting the hang of it,” Alex said, raising an eyebrow toward me.
I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. “Fine. He’s… better than I thought. But that doesn’t mean anything yet.”
After the second practice session ended and the drivers returned to the garage, I found myself lingering near the pit wall, watching as the cars were rolled back into the garage. Franco emerged from his car, pulling off his helmet, his fluffy hair tousled and damp with sweat. He was wiping his brow with the sleeve of his race suit when his eyes caught mine.
Franco approached me with that familiar, irritating grin. “Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice light but teasing as always.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to sound unimpressed. “It’s fine. Could be better.”
Franco chuckled softly, stopping just close enough that I could catch the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the track’s lingering heat. “You’ve got high standards, I see.”
“I am just realistic,” I shot back, finally meeting his gaze. “Not sure you’ll live up to your own expectations, Colapinto.”
For a second, Franco’s playful smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure I can meet—and exceed—any expectations you’ve got for me.”
I crossed my arms, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Big words for someone who hasn’t proved anything yet.”
Franco took a step closer, the teasing edge in his voice never fading. “Oh, I’ll prove it. Just keep watching.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a murmur. “You’ll be impressed soon enough.”
My pulse quickened as his words hung in the air. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Franco winked and stepped back.
“You can tell me what you think tomorrow,” he added over his shoulder, walking away with that infuriating confidence, leaving me standing there, frustrated and flustered all at once.
Just as I tried to collect myself, Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, wandered over. Her soft, sweet demeanor was the perfect counter to the high-pressure environment.
“Everything okay, Y/N?” she asked gently, noticing the slight tension still lingering on my face.
I huffed, folding my arms across my chest. “He’s impossible.”
Lily smiled knowingly, tilting her head. “I’ve seen you two talking more and more recently. Doesn’t seem like you think he’s that impossible.”
“He is trust me,” I muttered, though my tone was less convincing now.
Lily gave me a soft, encouraging smile, her voice gentle and kind. “You know, sometimes it’s okay to let your guard down. Not everyone’s as bad as they seem at first.”
I looked at Lily, rolling my eyes but feeling the truth in her words sink in. “You really think he’s a good guy?”
Lily shrugged with a sweet grin. “Maybe. I think you’re more interested in finding that out than you want to admit.”
I shook my head, but the feeling that maybe—just maybe—Lily was right gnawed at me as I watched Franco walk away, his figure disappearing into the garage.
Saturday was always charged with anticipation—qualifying day. The pressure in the paddock was thick, and I could feel the weight of it hanging in the air as I wandered through the bustling paddock. Every team member was focused, every driver mentally preparing for the intense session ahead. I, on the other hand, was lost in my thoughts, trying to distract myself from the growing irritation I felt whenever Franco popped into my mind.
Why does he always have to be so smug? I thought, frowning to myself as I made my way toward the drivers’ rooms. Always with the teasing, always with that stupid grin.
I was looking for Alex, but my mind was still tangled in thoughts of Franco—how his words had lingered from yesterday’s exchange, how his presence had become harder and harder to ignore. Whether it was the playful sparkle in his bright eyes or the way his fluffy, tousled hair fell effortlessly, something about him unsettled me.
Absentmindedly, I pushed open a door, not thinking twice about it—until I froze.
There stood Franco, half-dressed.
He was in the middle of pulling on his race suit, shirtless, his toned torso on full display. His skin gleamed under the soft lights of the room, and his dark hair was slightly damp, falling in messy waves over his forehead. He hadn’t noticed me at first, but when he looked up, his dark eyes locked on mine, surprise flickering across his face. It didn’t last long, though—his expression quickly shifted into that familiar, teasing grin I had come to expect.
“Well, well,” he drawled, voice laced with amusement, “didn’t expect you to walk in on me like this, but I’m not complaining.”
I froze, my cheeks flushing as I struggled to recover my composure. “I wasn’t—this isn’t—I was looking for Alex!” I stammered, my voice sharper than I intended.
Franco raised an eyebrow, his grin only growing wider. “Uh-huh. Sure you were.”
My irritation flared, and I crossed my arms, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Don’t flatter yourself, Colapinto. This was clearly a mistake.”
Franco took a step closer, his tone still light, but the teasing in his eyes unmistakable. “A mistake, huh? Yet, here you are. Still standing here.”
My pulse quickened, and I cursed my body for reacting to his presence. He was too close now, and the space between us felt charged, heavy with something I didn’t want to name.
“You’re full of yourself, you know that?” I shot back, lifting my chin, refusing to be intimidated.
Franco chuckled softly, his eyes locked on mine. “Maybe. But you seem pretty caught up in me for someone who claims not to care.”
I scoffed, stepping back but finding myself backed against the door. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossible?” Franco echoed, the amusement never leaving his voice. “Or just irresistible?”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “In your dreams, maybe.”
Franco’s gaze softened slightly, and for a moment, the teasing edge faded. “You keep acting like this, but I see through it.”
I frowned, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “Acting like what?”
He shrugged, taking another small step closer, his voice lower now. “Like you hate me. But every time we talk, it feels like something else is going on.”
My breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to look away. I hated that he could read me so easily, hated the way he made me feel like I was constantly on the back foot.
“Don’t get it twisted, Franco,” I said, my voice firmer this time. “You annoy me. That’s it.”
Franco smirked again, but there was something different in his eyes now—a challenge. “If you say so. But if I annoy you so much, why do you keep ending up here? In my space?”
I didn’t have an answer. Or at least, not one I was willing to admit out loud. The truth was, every time we clashed, it felt like the air between us was crackling with more than just annoyance. But I wasn’t ready to face that yet.
“I’m here because I thought this was Alex’s room,” I said finally, the sharpness returning to my voice. “Don’t read too much into it.”
Franco laughed softly, his expression softening as he stepped back, giving me some space but still keeping that annoying smirk. “Alright. But next time you want to drop by, just knock.”
I shot him a glare, my frustration flaring again. “You wish.”
With that, I turned on my heel and reached for the door, determined to leave the awkwardness behind. But before I could open it, Franco leaned in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You’ll be back.”
I whipped my head around, my eyes narrowing. “Don’t count on it.”
Franco chuckled as he watched me go, shaking his head in amusement. “See you around, Y/N.”
The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the wall, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My mind was spinning, my heart racing, and the worst part? I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn smirk.
Inside the room, Franco finished pulling on his suit, a small smile still tugging at his lips. He couldn’t help it—there was something about me that made every interaction feel like a game, one he was very much enjoying.
By the time qualifying ended, Franco had placed 18th—not spectacular, but solid enough for a rookie still adjusting to the car. The Williams team seemed satisfied with the result, and after the session, I found myself lingering in the pitlane, chatting with Oscar and Lando, both of whom were waiting for their post-quali interviews.
Lando, ever the jokester, leaned against the wall with a grin. “You know,” he said, “I like that guy. He’s got that cheeky energy. A bit like me.”
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Great, that’s exactly what we need—two Lando Norrises.”
Lando laughed, nudging me playfully. “Hey, the world would be lucky.”
Oscar, always the calm and collected one, stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve got to admit,” he said casually, “Franco’s improving. He’s faster than last time.”
I shrugged, unimpressed. “Yeah, well, let’s see if that holds up. Confidence doesn’t always mean results.”
Lando grinned, nudging me with a playful elbow. “You’re only saying that because you don’t want to admit he’s growing on you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “He’s not growing on me. If anything, he’s just growing more annoying.”
Oscar smirked, glancing between me and Lando. “Annoying, huh? Funny how you keep talking about him, though.”
Before I could respond, Franco appeared, fresh from his post-session debrief. He looked as smug as ever, a towel draped over his shoulders, his hair slightly damp. He caught my eye immediately, his usual grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Franco approached, clearly enjoying the way I tensed up at his arrival. His grin grew wider, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks even before he said a word.
“What’s this? Talking about me again, Y/N?” he teased, his voice smooth as always.
I crossed my arms, determined not to let him get under my skin. “I’m pretty sure not everything’s about you, Franco.”
Lando, grinning like a Cheshire cat, leaned over to Franco, speaking just loud enough for me to hear. “Oh, mate, trust me. She’s been talking about you all day.”
Franco’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Really?”
My face flushed as I shot Lando a warning look. “Lando!”
Lando threw his hands up in mock surrender, enjoying every second of my discomfort. “I’m just saying what I see. You’ve been all eyes on Colapinto here. Don’t blame me for stating facts.”
Oscar chuckled softly, his quiet amusement adding to the playful atmosphere. “It’s true. You’ve mentioned him at least three times already.”
I glared at both of them, my irritation growing by the second. “You two are impossible.”
Franco chuckled, stepping closer to me, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on. I saw the way you looked at me this morning. You can admit it—you’ve been thinking about me.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow, watching the exchange with quiet curiosity, while Lando stood by, grinning like he was watching his favorite sitcom unfold.
“Thinking about how you’re the most irritating person I’ve ever met? Maybe,” I shot back, refusing to back down as Franco leaned in slightly, his bright eyes sparkling with mischief.
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” Franco said smoothly, lowering his voice just enough to make my heart race.
I was about to retort when Alex joined us, clapping Franco on the back. “Good session, man. You’re getting faster.”
Franco nodded, but his eyes never left mine. “Thanks, but it seems like Y/N here has higher standards than the rest of you.”
Lando smirked, clearly loving the drama. “Oh, she does. Don’t take it personally, Franco. She’s got high standards for all of us.”
I glared at Lando, but before I could say anything, Franco leaned in slightly, his bright eyes still locked on mine. “Good thing I love a challenge.”
I scoffed, tightening my arms across my chest. “Trust me, Colapinto, you’ve got a long way to go before you meet my standards.”
Franco’s grin only widened. “Good thing I’m persistent.”
Before I could respond, Alex laughed, clearly oblivious to the tension bubbling between us. “Alright, let’s cool it before the next round of banter turns into an all-out war. Y/N, we’re having dinner with the guys tonight—join us?”
I hesitated, my gaze flicking between Alex and Franco, who was still watching me with that infuriating smirk.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” I muttered, “just need to freshen up a bit,” shooting Franco one last look before heading toward the paddock exit.
“Fun! We’ll meet you in the lobby at 8!” Alex called after me as I walked away, while the guys gathered for their post-qualifying interviews.
Dinner that evening was supposed to be a chance to unwind after the high-pressure qualifying session, but the moment I realized Franco was joining us, my mood soured. I hadn’t expected him to be part of the group, assuming it would just be me, Alex, George, Oscar, and Lando. But as soon as I saw him enter the restaurant, his easy confidence on full display, I knew the night wasn’t going to go as planned.
Of course he’s here, I thought, rolling my eyes as he slipped into the seat across from me, wearing that same infuriating smirk.
Franco greeted everyone with casual charm, clearly enjoying himself, but every glance he threw my way felt designed to provoke me. It didn’t help that Lando, seated beside me, was in a particularly mischievous mood.
Soon enough, the waiter came over to take our orders, and things started to get even more interesting.
“Alright, what’ll it be?” the waiter asked.
“I’ll take the risotto,” Alex said, glancing at the menu one last time before handing it over.
"Might I be so bold as to request the same for myself?" George added.
Oscar ordered quickly, as calm and collected as ever. “Just a steak, medium-rare, thanks.”
I scanned the menu, trying not to think about Franco sitting directly across from me. I settled on my favorite pasta dish, handing my menu to the waiter. “I’ll have the truffle ravioli.”
When the waiter turned to Franco, I braced myself for whatever cheeky comment he was about to make.
“I’ll go for the truffle ravioli,” he said, then paused, glancing at me with a smirk. “But only if it’s as good as they say it is.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s ravioli, Franco. Not a fine wine. Relax.”
Lando, who had clearly been enjoying the tension building between us, grinned as he scanned the menu. “I’ll have the spaghetti. Extra sauce.”
“Surprising,” I deadpanned, “I thought you’d go for something a bit less… messy.”
Lando leaned back, tossing his menu aside with dramatic flair. “Messy? You must not follow the gossip pages, Y/N. I love messy. Besides, I have big plans for this spaghetti.”
Alex groaned. “Please behave.”
Lando wiggled his eyebrows, already looking pleased with himself. “Oh, just wait.”
As the waiter left, the group settled into casual conversation, the mood light despite the simmering tension between Franco and me. Alex, always the big brother, couldn’t resist dragging me into an embarrassing memory.
“You should’ve seen Y/N when she decided she was going to be an inventor,” Alex began, grinning as I sighed dramatically. “She built this elaborate ‘trap’ to catch the family cat. We’re talking string, boxes, and a broomstick involved—it looked like something out of Home Alone.”
I groaned. “Oh God, here we go.”
Alex was enjoying himself too much to stop. “She spent hours perfecting it. She swore it would work. And guess what? It didn’t catch the cat—it caught Mum instead.”
Lando burst into laughter, his eyes wide with excitement. “Y/N, an engineer in the making! I would’ve paid to see that.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my grin. “Okay, it wasn’t my best idea, but it wasn’t that bad!”
Alex snorted. “Mum had to wriggle out of it while holding the groceries. To this day, she doesn’t trust any ‘surprise’ Y/N sets up.”
Franco, who had been quietly following the story, leaned forward with his signature smirk. “Sounds like I need to watch my back around you, Y/N.”
I shot him a look, my voice dry but teasing. “Trust me, I’ve improved since then. You wouldn’t see it coming.”
Franco smirked. “I’ve got my eyes on you.”
Before I could reply, the waiter returned with our food. Plates were placed in front of us, and Lando’s spaghetti arrived with an extra helping of sauce just as he’d requested.
“Oh, yes,” Lando said, rubbing his hands together like a mischievous child. “Now, let the fun begin.”
It looked like he was up to his usual antics, twirling his spaghetti with great concentration, his grin widening as he arranged the strings very carefully on his plate.
“Lando,” I said, raising an eyebrow, “what are you doing?”
Lando leaned back, arms crossed proudly as he surveyed his masterpiece. “Creating art, Y/N. Pure, unadulterated art.”
"Goodness gracious, Lando we are at a bloody restaurant!" George put on his sunglasses, trying his best to distance himself from the childlike behaviour of his friend.
I glanced down at his plate and burst out laughing. “Bunda? Seriously?”
Lando’s grin only widened. “What can I say? I’m a man of culture.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Yeah, spelling ‘BUNDA’ with spaghetti really says a lot about you. Deep.”
Lando pretended to be offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “Ouch, mate. I’m expressing myself here.”
I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity. But despite the humor, I could still feel Franco’s eyes on me, watching every move I made.
As the evening wore on, the banter at the table continued, but the undercurrent of tension between Franco and me was impossible to ignore. Every time I looked up, I caught him watching me—his eyes glinting with amusement, like he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin. It was maddening, yet I couldn’t deny the strange pull that kept drawing my attention back to him.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, I decided to address the elephant in the room.
“So,” I began, cutting through the chatter at the table, “Franco, how does it feel stepping into a seat that wasn’t exactly yours?”
The table went quiet almost instantly. Alex shot me a look—half warning, half pleading—but I ignored it, my eyes locked on Franco. I couldn’t hold back the resentment that had been simmering for weeks. Logan had been my friend, and I wasn’t about to let Franco think he could just waltz in and take his place without any consequences.
Franco’s smile faltered for just a second, but he recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m here because I earned it,” he replied evenly, his voice calm but with an edge. “Not my fault if others couldn’t keep up.”
I didn’t back down. “I don’t think you earned it. I think you’re just here because of the sponsors. Anyone can see there are plenty of drivers with more potential than you.”
Franco’s jaw tightened slightly, and the playful glint in his eyes dimmed. The atmosphere around the table shifted, and even Lando, who had been proudly admiring his spaghetti art, stopped mid-bite to watch the exchange.
“Y/N,” Alex said softly, trying to ease the tension, but I barely registered his voice.
Franco’s gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t need to justify my place to you.”
I leaned in, my voice cold. “You don’t have to. It’s already obvious why you’re here.”
Franco’s eyes flashed with something darker, but instead of responding with the sharp retort I expected, he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table. “I think I’ll call it a night. See you tomorrow.”
Without another word, Franco walked away, leaving me sitting there, my own words hanging in the air. The weight of what I had said settled in, a knot of guilt forming in my chest. Maybe I had gone too far.
Lando let out a low whistle. “Well… that escalated quickly.”
Alex sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Y/N, that was harsh. You didn’t have to push him like that.”
Oscar, who had been quiet for most of the dinner, finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “You’re allowed to be upset, Y/N, but that wasn’t the way to handle it.”
I didn’t respond immediately. I knew they were right—deep down, I knew—but something about Franco just set me off in ways I couldn’t control.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you two,” Alex said, his tone softening as he looked at me, “but you need to talk it out before this gets worse.”
I glanced toward the door where Franco had disappeared, the guilt gnawing at me. Franco had a way of bringing out the worst in me, and now, I wasn’t sure how to fix it.
Later that night, I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, staring out of the hotel window at the glowing city lights below. The confrontation with Franco during dinner replayed in my mind, each pass making me feel worse. I hated how easily he got to me, how every exchange with him seemed to spiral into something bigger than it needed to be. But what bothered me most was that deep down, it wasn’t just anger. There was something else beneath the frustration—something I didn’t want to admit.
A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. I hesitated for a moment before standing up to answer it. When I opened the door, Alex stood there, leaning casually against the frame, his expression a mix of concern and that familiar big-brother teasing.
“Mind if I come in?” he asked.
I stepped aside, letting him in without saying a word. Alex walked over to the small seating area near the window and sat down, waiting for me to join him. The silence stretched between us for a moment before he finally spoke.
“You want to talk about it?”
I sighed, closing the door and sitting across from him. “Not really.”
Alex chuckled softly. “You sure? Because I’ve been watching you two for a while now, and it’s pretty clear something’s going on.”
I ran a hand through my hair, avoiding his gaze. “He just—he gets under my skin.”
“That much is obvious,” Alex said, his tone light but not unkind. “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”
I shook my head, feeling frustration bubbling up again. “I thought I couldn’t stand him. He’s arrogant, cocky, always trying to show off… but today, I pushed too far. And I know it.”
Alex nodded, watching me closely. “Franco’s sure of himself, yeah, but did you ever think that maybe he has to be so overly confident? The media and Netflix are always after us already, let alone if you replace someone halfway through the season. He’s not a bad guy, Y/N. You’ve been pretty hard on him since he joined.”
I sighed, feeling the weight of his words settle on my shoulders. “You’re right. I just didn’t expect him to… I don’t know, get to me like this.”
Alex leaned back, giving me a thoughtful look. “Y/N, you’re used to having things figured out—people, situations. But Franco doesn’t fit into that box you tried to put him in, and it’s throwing you off.”
I frowned, feeling the truth of Alex’s words sink in. I had been so sure of what kind of person Franco was, but the more time I spent around him, the harder it became to keep him in that neat little box I had created.
“He’s different than I thought,” I admitted finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s still confident, but there’s more to him than just the cocky guy I thought he was.”
Alex smiled softly. “Exactly. So maybe instead of pushing him away, you should try to figure out what’s really going on between the two of you.”
I bit my lip, my heart heavy with guilt. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”
Alex chuckled, his voice gentle. “You won’t know until you try. Talk to him. You’ll feel better once you do.”
Unable to sleep, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind spinning with guilt and frustration. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on Franco’s face when I pushed him too far at dinner. I knew I had crossed a line, but admitting it was harder than I thought.
Before I even realized what I was doing, I found myself slipping out of bed, grabbing my jacket to cover my nightgown, and quietly leaving my hotel room. The hallway was dimly lit, and the quiet hum of the city outside felt distant as I made my way toward Franco’s room.
My heart pounded as I reached his door. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was a good idea. But before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked softly.
The door swung open, and Franco stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair still slightly damp, as if he had just showered.
“Y/N?” he asked, his voice low. “What are you doing here?”
I swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of my nerves. “I—I came to apologize.”
Franco crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, his dark eyes watching me carefully. “For what, exactly?”
I bit my lip, trying to find the right words. “For what I said at dinner. I… I was out of line. I let my frustration get the better of me, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”
For a moment, Franco didn’t say anything. He simply studied me, his expression unreadable, and the silence between us felt heavy, charged with something I couldn’t quite place.
Finally, he sighed, stepping aside and gesturing for me to come in. “You might as well come in. We shouldn’t do this in the hallway.”
I hesitated, but eventually stepped into Franco’s room, the door clicking shut behind me. The air between us was thick, the unspoken tension hanging like a storm ready to break. Franco leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched me carefully, his dark eyes searching my face for something I wasn’t sure I could give him.
“I didn’t expect you to apologize,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, softer but still holding that familiar edge. “You’ve been pretty set on hating me.”
I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t hate you. I was just… frustrated. I thought you were just this arrogant guy who didn’t care about anyone but himself, but you’re not like that. You surprised me, and I guess I didn’t know how to handle it.”
Franco’s expression softened, but there was still a teasing spark in his eyes. “Surprised you, huh? So I’m not as terrible as you thought?”
I couldn’t help but laugh softly, despite the tension in the room. “Not completely terrible I guess.”
We stood there in the quiet for a moment, the weight of the apology settling between us. His eyes never left mine, and there was something in his gaze that made my heart race, something that had been there all along but that I’d refused to acknowledge.
“You didn’t have to come here,” Franco said, his voice low, a slight vulnerability in his tone that caught me off guard. “But I’m glad you did.”
My breath caught in my throat as the distance between us suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. The tension that had simmered for so long now felt like it was about to snap, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. But I couldn’t move away, couldn’t bring myself to break the moment.
Instead, I took a step closer, my heart racing as our eyes locked. The silence between us felt heavy, full of things neither of us was willing to say, but we didn’t need words. I could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze softened, in the way my pulse quickened.
Franco reached out, his hand brushing lightly against mine. His touch was hesitant at first, almost as if he was waiting for me to pull away. But I didn’t. Instead, I took another step closer, closing the gap between us, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
When he leaned in, it wasn’t sudden—it was slow, deliberate. His lips brushed against mine softly at first, a hesitant kiss that quickly deepened as the tension between us finally broke. My hands found their way to his chest, and I felt the warmth of his skin beneath his t-shirt as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.
The kiss was everything we had held back, all the frustration and unspoken attraction we had been pretending didn’t exist. It was slow at first, then more urgent, as if we were both trying to make up for all the time we had wasted fighting it.
Franco’s hand moved to cup my face, his thumb gently brushing against my cheek as he kissed me, and I felt a warmth spread through me that I hadn’t expected. I didn’t want to admit how badly I had wanted this, how much I had been waiting for this moment, even though I had denied it to myself for so long.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. My hands were still pressed against his chest, and his arms stayed firmly around my waist, neither of us willing to break the connection completely.
Franco was the first to speak, his voice low and filled with a soft amusement. “So, I guess that’s one way to make up.”
I laughed lightly, my heart still racing. “Maybe.”
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me properly, his gaze more serious now but still holding that familiar teasing edge. “You know, I didn’t think this would happen.”
“Me either,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not mad about it.”
Franco’s lips curved into a small smile, and he leaned in again, this time pressing a softer, lingering kiss to my forehead before pulling away entirely. He didn’t let go of me completely, though, his hands still resting on my waist as he looked at me, his eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t sure I could name.
“We don’t have to figure everything out tonight,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but filled with something deeper. “But I think we both know there’s more going on here than just… whatever this is.”
I nodded, unable to find the words to respond. He was right, of course. This was more than just the heat of the moment—it had been building for a while, even if neither of us had been willing to admit it. But now that the tension had finally broken, it felt like there was no going back.
“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice soft. “There’s definitely more.”
***
He looked me deeply into my eyes before closing the space between us again. When our lips met again, it wasn’t the tentative kiss from before—this time, it was full of fire, all the pent-up tension and frustration we had been holding onto. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, and my hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair.
Everything felt heightened—the softness of his touch, the warmth of his breath, the way my body responded to every move he made. There was a sense of inevitability between us, like this moment had always been coming, but now that it was here, it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
As we stumbled backward toward the bed, the kisses deepened, more urgent now. Franco’s hands found the hem of my dress, his touch both careful and eager, as though he wanted to savor every moment spent undressing me. My heart raced in anticipation, my skin humming under his fingertips.
Franco softly pushed me onto the bed, taking a few seconds to admire the sight before him before taking off his shirt and lowering himself onto me. My breath hitched as Franco’s lips trailed down my neck, each kiss sending sparks through my body. 
“Fuck you are so beautiful.” He softly mumbled, making heartbeat race even faster. What was this man doing to you?
His kisses softened around your inner thighs. 
“Do you want me to keep going?”
Awakened from my trance, I opened my eyes and looked down to meet his. “Please, don’t stop.”
That same cocky grin reappeared on his face. “Are you expectations as high as they are for my driving?”
I rolled your eyes. “Stop with the jokes Franco, I need you, please!”
“I’ve been waiting to hear that all weekend”
Without hesitation he roughly pulled down my lacy black panties, inserting one finger into my core while his tongue worked my already swollen clit. 
Sweet moans filled the room like music as he added another finger inside me. I could feel him smile down there.
“Can’t believe how wet you are for me. It’s so sexy.”
Soon my back started arching involuntarily. My hands, that were softly stroking through his hair as he worked me, now began gripping his dark brown locks tightly.
“Fuck Franco I’m so close.” I moaned, heart racing in my chest. 
To my disappointment he pulled away. Before I had the chance to start whining, he pulled down his sweats to reveal his huge dick. With lustful eyes I looked the beautiful man standing in front of me up and down. He looked incredible, the messy hair making him even sexier. 
He climbed back on top of me, softly kissing me, leaving me to taste my own excitement on his lips. 
Leaning over, he gently kissed my ears. “I want to feel you finish around me.” he whispered in his low husky voice.
Before the excitement had even reached my core, he slid his dick in, leaving no time for me to adjust to his size. He started ramming into me at dangerous pace, leaving me to cry out from the mixture the pain and pleasure. 
Franco’s hands roamed over my body, exploring, claiming, as though he had been craving this moment for too long. Every touch, every sound was laced with the weight of everything we had been holding back.
My breath hitched as he pulled out and flipped me over. His hands gliding over my ass while he repositioned himself in front of my entrance. 
“Where do you want me to cum later?” he asked, while grabbing my hair, giving it a little tug.
“In my mouth please.” My voice was hitchy from the thrill. 
I felt Franco’s dick twitch against me. He pulled me up to him by my hair and began kissing my neck more, his free hand playing with my boob.
“Is that so? And are you going to swallow it for me?”
I moaned. “Happily.”
He let go of my hair which led me to fall back on all fours on the mattress. I felt the palm of his hand smack hard against my ass, breath caught in my throat, my body trembling in response to his. He slid in and sweet sensations filled my body yet again. 
As the intensity built, Franco’s voice dropped to a whisper, his breath hot against my skin. “I’ve wanted this… wanted you… for so long.”
My only response was a soft gasp, my body arching toward his. I could feel the raw need in every movement, in the way his hands gripped mine tighter, his lips tracing fire along my skin. The tension that had been crackling between the two of you for weeks finally exploded in a wave of release, leaving us both breathless.
“Franco I-“ I couldn’t finish my sentence as a wave of pleasure went through my body.
He kept going as I completely soaked him, the wet pounding and both of your moans being the only sound in the room. 
When he was close, he flipped you over again to face him, stroking his long dick a couple times while I opened my mouth for him.  While I looked deeply into his glistering eyes, he released into my mouth. The warm salty taste made me ecstatic, sucking him off to make sure I had every last drop to swallow. 
Exhausted, we both let ourselves fall down on the bed. Heavy breathing filling the room.
“Such a good girl for me.” Franco smiled as he brushed through my hair. He pulled me closer in his muscular arms, our bodies still pressed close, the remainder of the storm we had just weathered lingering in the quiet of the room. Franco’s fingers traced light patterns along my arm, his breath still uneven as he looked at me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of something deeper than just satisfaction.
I smiled, heart still racing but in a calmer, more settled way now. “Neither was I.”
We both didn’t need to say anything more. The silence was comfortable now, the tension replaced by a quiet understanding that whatever had just happened had changed things. As the two of us lay together, the connection that had once been full of conflict now felt like something new, something Franco and I both wanted to explore.
527 notes · View notes
mariclerc · 4 months
Note
Hi
So, i watched the video of the radio between Charles and his new engineer at Imola. Safe to say i got some ideas, and was wondering if you could write something with Charles and engineer!reader? Basically something where reader is Charles’ engineer and he’s developed feelings for her, during a race ( could be Imola, or Monaco as thats this weekend) she talks to him like Bryan does and he realizes he has a praise kink. Could lead to smut if you’re comfortable with that. Thank you in advance.
Thank you for this request, I did my best to develop it as much as possible, I hope you like it!! <3<3
Strategies and praises | cl16 (+18)
Summary: you like to praise your driver, but you have no idea how much good it does him. Warning: fluff and some light smut.
a/n: CHARLES WON IN MONACO OH MY GOD, I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! HE REALLY DID IT, I'M SO SO PROUD OF HIM!!! (not to jinx him I wrote this between Friday and Saturday so you won't have exactly the positions like in the race)
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The Monaco Grand Prix is in full swing, everyone is excited and ecstatic as they want to know how the local driver, Charles, will do. You, as his race engineer, are under a bit of pressure, as well as him, but it's nothing you can't control. For you it is a race of mere strategy and that's it, since many overtakings do not usually occur, and that is why you and Charles spend a lot of time studying the different strategies that may happen in the race.
“If we get one last run with the mediums in quali, we can achieve pole position.” He says and you nod.
“That's right, it's just a matter of the track staying the same throughout qualifying and, in case you already have provisional pole and a red flag or something happens, you're already insured there.” you say as you finish reviewing some telemetry data.
Suddenly he lets out a sigh and runs his hands through his hair, ruffling it a little. You know he is stressed and overwhelmed by this weekend, it's not that he doesn't like it, on the contrary, it's the constant pressure to have a good race at home.
“But... But what if I qualify further back? I don't know, that will change the whole strategy, right?” He asks in a whisper, you nod.
“Ehm... That might change the strategy a little bit, of course, but it's nothing we can't recover with a couple of undercuts or overcuts...” you say to finally close your laptop.
You look at Charles and notice how your words calmed him down a bit, you have been his engineer since he arrived at Ferrari in 2019 and you have been known for giving him some praises every so often in the race. And a couple of times you have been criticized for some questionable decisions in the race, but he was in charge of clearing your name with pride those times, which you are very grateful to him since he always believes in you and you in him.
-
It's already race day and you find yourself with a lot of nerves, the day before Charles had qualified P3 and, although it was not what we expected, there was a certain tension and hope on the pit wall. The roar of the crowd fills Charles helmet as he navigates the tight corners of Monaco. You, his engineer, his voice of reason in the chaos, cut through the static.
“Charles, that was a phenomenal lap! You took the Rascasse beautifully, just keep pushing, we can still make a good climb!” you say on the radio. “Just try to make it clean, okay? You're doing a very good job.”
A small smile tugs at Charles' lips under the helmet... He wasn't just pushing or fighting for the podium anymore, he was pushing to hear your voice, to impress you, to make you feel proud of him.
You watch the telemetry with a focused intensity, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.
“Perfect line through Beau Rivage, Charles. You're a monster machine! Let's catch them boy! I know you can do it!” you said watching his lap, he had made a couple of overcuts.
The compliment hangs heavy in the air between you and Charles, a blush creeps up his neck even though you can't see it. He pushes even harder, the car straining under his command.
Charles crosses the finish line, a hard-fought P3. He lets out a guttural yell of exhilaration, the adrenaline coursing through him. Maybe it's not a home win as he wished, but it's a podium and it's something at least.
“Great job, team! That was incredible. Y/n, you were brilliant on the strategy, thank you so much!” you heard his voice over the radio communication and you smiled.
“It was nothing Charles, now let's celebrate! You deserve it more than anyone!” you also say through the radio. “You did an absolutely amazing drive, Charles. You were phenomenal out there. We should celebrate after the podium ceremony!” you say and you let out a little giggle.
A shiver runs down Charles' spine... It wasn't just the post-race adrenaline, it was the way you said it, the subtle soft praise laced with something more, and that sweet and soft giggle of yours. All your colleagues on the pit wall hug you and congratulate you for such a spectacular strategy, Fred also congratulates you with a loving hug. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Relief and pride wash over you, how proud you are to work with someone like Charles is priceless, he is someone who always strives to achieve his own.
-
At the end of the podium and the interviews, the paddock was practically deserted, you found yourself putting some things in your briefcase when you hear Charles calling you to meet you in his driver's room.
The room is a mess of post-race adrenaline, empty water bottles litter the table, fireproof gloves are tossed on a chair, and Charles himself is sprawled on the sofa, he's still in his race suit, sweat clinging to his toned chest through the fireproofs. He looks exhausted but exhilarated and handsome to your eyes. You knock on the door.
“Come in!” You hear him say and you enter the room, a shy and tired smile adorns your face.
“Hey, you wanted to see me champ?” you asked softly.
Charles beckons you in, a shy smile playing on his lips. He pats the space beside him on the sofa.
“Yeah, come sit, please. There's a few things we need to go over, but...” He trails off, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long. You raise an eyebrow, amusement tugging at your lips.
“But what?”
“You did amazing today, you know that? We pulled off a miracle out there, keeping the position.” he smiled shyly.
You smiled lovingly at him. “We did, didn't we? Thanks for trusting my calls. You were a rocket ship on that track, Charles.”
His gaze lingers on you a beat too long. You brush a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling a warmth spread through you.
“Always. You're the best engineer I've ever had. Not just because of the numbers, but...” his voice became a little low, he hesitate a bit, then leans in, his voice barely a whisper. “Because you believe in me... Even when I don't believe in myself, even when everyone doubts about my abilities or myself in general.”
Your heart skips a beat, you reach out, your fingers softly grazing his cheek. The touch seems to spark something in him, he leans into your hand, his eyes searching yours.
You blushed a little. “Hey, I'll always believe in you, Charles! You're incredible. You know that, right?”
His eyes hold yours, a new intensity there. He cups your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.
“There's something else I want you to know... Something I've realized lately.” he says with a husky voice.
He trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips, you feel a shiver run down your spine, he leans in slowly, and you meet him halfway. The kiss is electric, fueled by unspoken emotions and the adrenaline of the race. His hands explore your back gently, sending shivers down your spine.
“Your voice...” he kiss you again. “on the radio...” he give you another kiss. “it does things to me...” he said between kisses.
A laugh escapes your lips, breathless. “Like what, Charles?” you ask him teasingly.
He kisses your jaw, his voice a low rumble. “Like... it makes me want to drive faster, makes me want to win, to archive even more podiums... Especially when you...” He hesitates, then whispers in your ear. “Especially when you tell me I'm doing good, when you tell me that I can do it.” he said huskily.
A blush creeps up your neck. You realize what he's saying, a heat pooling in your core.
“So... you like a little praise, huh?” you whisper too.
He kisses your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “More than you know, mon ange, especially if it comes from you.”
The air crackles with unspoken desire. You let out a soft gasp as Charles undoes the buttons of your t-shirt, his touch lingering on the fabric. You reach up and cup his face, pulling him close for another kiss. This time, it's deeper, filled with a new urgency. His hands slide down your back, sending a fire down your spine.
“Then tell me, Charles. What do you want to hear?” you said breathlessly.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes blazing. “Tell me you're proud of me, tell me I drove flawlessly. Tell me you knew I could do it... Please.” he says in a whisper, practically begging you.
You run your hand through his hair, a slow smile spreading across your face. “I am so incredibly proud of you, Charles. You were phenomenal out there, you took that car to its limits and never gave up. You're a phenomenal driver, the best on the grid.”
His eyes lock on yours, the praise filling him with a surge of heat that goes beyond the race. He leans in again, his voice a husky whisper.
“More, keep going amour. Tell me you knew I could keep that podium, even when I doubted myself.”
You trace the outline of his jaw with your thumb, your voice dropping to a low purr. “I always knew you could keep that podium, Charles. You have this incredible talent, this fire inside you. You were born to be a champion!”
His breath hitches, and he pulls you close, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands explore your body, finding the small of your back, urging you closer.
“Don't stop please. You make me want to push myself even further, make me want to win every single race left, just to hear you say that again.” says with a ragged voice.
The praise fuels your own desire. You pull back slightly, your gaze flickering over his race suit, you smile.
“Then let's celebrate your podium properly, shall we? Show me just how good you are at taking some orders.” you say with a husky voice, and a triumphant grin splits his face.
-
The air hums with a different kind of electricity now. Charles's eyes darken, the praise turning him on far more than he expected. He leans in, his voice a low rumble.
“You don't just believe in my driving, do you baby?”
His hand dips under your shirt, brushing softly against your skin. You gasp, a shiver running through you.
“No, Charles. I believe in you... All of you. Your talent, your strength, your incredible heart. You're the most determined, passionate person I know! And seeing you out there, pushing yourself, it does something to me too...”
His touch ignites a fire within you, mirroring the one he feels. You trace a line down his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his damp race suit.
“What does it do, bellissima?” he says with a husky voice.
You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear. “It makes me want to celebrate with you in a very different way.” you whispered in his ear.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. A slow smile spreads across his face, a mix of satisfaction and desire.
“Tell me then, how do you want to celebrate?” he asks.
You run your hand down his arm, sending a spark through both of you. “Let me show you how proud I am of the man you are, not just the driver. How much I admire your strength, your focus, everything that makes you so incredible.”
His breath hitches, and he pulls you close again. This kiss is different, slower, filled with a deeper meaning. His touch explores your body, finding the places that make you shiver, places no one had ever discovered before.
“Then show me, bellissima. Show me everything you've been holding back.” he said with a rough voice.
You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on his. “But first, tell me one more thing. Did you ever think your engineer might be a little turned on by seeing you dominate the track?” you say shyly.
His laugh is a low rumble, filled with pure, unadulterated desire.
“Not until now, but believe me, gorgeous, the feeling is most definitely mutual.”
He finally pulls your shirt up all the way, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. As he slowly undresses you, his eyes never leave yours, a mixture of gratitude and raw desire burning bright. The celebration takes a turn neither of you expected, fueled by the adrenaline of the race, the praise that goes beyond the track, and the deep connection that has been simmering beneath the surface all along.
His eyes scanned your body at a slow place, he was drinking you in just by looking. His lips met yours in a gentle touch and your back met the couch as he hovered over you. Looking into his eyes you kissed him again, biting his lip which elicited a groan from him and a smile from you.
“Oh god amore, are you sure you want this?” He asked. “We can’t go back after you say yes.” he added in a low voice that send shivers down your spine.
“Yes, I’m sure Charles.” you replied bringing his lips down to yours. Detaching his lips from yours he kissed down your body, your skin crawls when you feel his warm lips on your body, slowly kissing every curve and dip that adorns your silhouette, leaving a burning path on your skin, you let out a sigh. “God, you're so good to me Cha...” You whisper between a light sigh, your words made him let out a light growl, he felt his body react to your praise.
“Oh mon amour, je te ferai te sentir si bien... I will make myself worthy of your praise...” He says in a low and sensual voice, the mixture of French and English makes your head go crazy. (Oh my love, I'll make you feel so good...)
His lips continue their journey down your chest, taking the time to kiss your breasts gently, as if they were the most precious thing in the world, then he went down to your abdomen where he left loose kisses in the area, making you release one or another soft sigh. He continued down until he reached your core, he smiled at the sight of you completely naked, he softly kissed the inside of your thighs and your heart started beating super fast.
He started to leave sloppy kisses until he reached your folds, he began to leave sloppy kisses and licks on your wet folds, you raised your hips a little to give him easy access to that area, and he began to devour you slowly, he was taking his time to taste you. Your soft moans didn't take long, he slowly sucked on your clit, making you let out a loud moan that probably rang throughout the deserted paddock, but that's the least of it now.
“Keep doing that Charlie...” you say with heavy breathing and that gave him the impetus to continue savoring you with such passion, you hold on to his soft, silky hair. “God, you're such a... You're such a good boy.” you moan slightly.
Your words lit the fire in him a little bit more and he continued tasting you completely in his mouth, you were like a blessing in his life, like something he had wanted to try for a long time. You felt your walls tighten and a strong wave of pleasure washed over you, you felt like you were going to faint right there.
“Cha... Charlie... I'm... I'm close.” you whispered as you whimpered in pleasure, he stopped his ministrations on your core and looked up at you, god he looked so damn hot, his cheeks flushed, his face sweaty from the strenuous work he was doing down there.
He smiled and took off his boxers, revealing his erect cock, he brought his lips to yours and kissed you softly and sweetly, it was as if he didn't want to let this moment between you go. “If... If you don't feel comfortable or something, just tell me and I'll stop instantly, okay darling?” He said in a hushed whisper looking deeply at your eyes.
You looked and him and smiled shyly. “Charlie, I... I want this the same way you want it, okay? I want you to continue.” you whispered and he nodded. “Just do it, okay honey?”
He aligned himself with your entrance and gently entered you, giving you time to adapt to his big size, your breathing became erratic, he began to move slowly and a little loosely at the same time. He wanted to satisfy you, to please you, make you feel like you are the one who have the power in this precise moment... His hands ran over your body, just as they did at the beginning, until they reached your hips and he placed them there, his thumbs made circles in that area, he began to thrust into you with a little more rhythm. He began to breathe heavily, his hot breath coming into contact with your neck and that gave you chills down your spine, his movements were meticulously perfect, he took the moment to appreciate you and enjoy this.
You felt your walls tightening around him, making the two of you let out moans at the same time, to you, he looked like a Greek god at that moment, sweat taking over his toned torso, his darkened and dilated pupils watching you as if you were a goddess or some kind of miraculous apparition in his life.
“Mhm, bébé, I'm... I'm gonna cum.” he whispered against your neck, his agitated and husky voice a delight to your ears. “God, you feel so good around me chérie.” He murmured as he kissed the skin of your neck, making you sigh again and again.
You moaned as you felt the pleasure wash over you. “Such a good boy my precious Charlie.” you said with a husky voice. “I'm close too, handsome.” you whimpered and you closed your eyes.
The climax reached you two making you tremble with pleasure, your legs trembled and you felt how your breathing stopped being erratic. He rested his forehead against yours and kissed every little part of your face, while you just smiled, the love you feel for this man is incredible, something that goes beyond a simple discussion of strategies or friendly companionship.
When you finally felt that everything in you was completely normal, you spoke. “That... That was, amazing charlie.” you whispered softly, giving him a kiss on his cheek, he smiled. “You made me feel good... I haven't felt like this in a long time.” there was no lie in your statement, it had been a long time since the last time someone had made you feel as good as Charles had.
He smiled and blushed. “It was nothing sunshine, everything for you and only you.” he kissed your cheek. “I think you deserve good things more than anyone else.” he whispered too.
After a few seconds, silence was present in the room, but it was a fairly comfortable one, your hands were intertwined with his and your thumb caressed the back of his hand, you smiled shyly at the sight, it was something that looked so cute and innocent.
He smiled again and looked at you with great affection in his eyes. “I love you, darling... Thank you for this!” He whispered sweetly and kissed your temple.
You smiled tenderly. “I love you too charlie.” you whispered too. “Don't you think we should take even a quick shower?” You say and let out a shy giggle.
He smiles and raises his eyebrows, blushing. “Oh... Of course love!”
You just smile at him again and you kiss his cheek. “And then you take me to my hotel?”
He denied and picked you up in his arms to walk to the small bathroom in his driver room, you let out a soft gasp. “Oh, no my love... We will go to my house!” He said.
You raised your eyebrows and chuckled. “But... And my things? Everything is in the hotel...” You started to say but he interrupted you, leaving several small kisses on your lips.
“Don't worry about it honey, we'll look for that before we go to my house.” he smiled. “Just worry about being pretty and smart, my honey.” you giggled at his words.
“You forgot to mention bossy.” he laughed and blushed.
“Oh sure, a little bossy, but that's how I like you.” he whispered on your lips and kissed you again.
You just smiled while you went into the shower, you felt very happy because you never thought that Charles had something for you and that at the end of the day it was something that you also wanted at some point. You admired him as a driver, that was for sure, but as a person it was a totally inexplicable thing. Today showed you that, apart from being good at taking orders, he was excellent pleasing you and showing his true emotions, you can't wait to see where this new journey might take you both.
750 notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 10 months
Note
lando with girlfriend who races for mercedes but got into a crash and was in coma, but she finally wakes up
This picture does stuff to me
(set 2024)
Second part HERE
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"Holy shit," Lando said as he watched his girlfriend walk onto the grid. He watched as she walked over, racing overalls low on her hips, black fireproofs adorning her body.
Lando licked his lips as she stood beside him and Oscar, leaning against the barrier with her arms folded over her chest. "Wow, baby," he said, staring at her.
"Like what you see?" She grinned.
Lando said nothing. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Tell Toto I like the black fire proofs."
It was Y/N's first season in Formula One, her first race too. She was the F2 champion two years running before Mercedes finally gave her a chance. She'd been with Lando since her F2 days, after they'd met in Monaco after the Grand Prix.
"Excited?" Oscar asked as he watched them.
Yes, Y/N was excited. But she'd never been on the track with her boyfriend, had never had to fight him before. Neither of them knew what they were going to do. They both hoped they would treat each other like any other driver, but the rest of the grid was doubtful.
"Very," she said to Oscar as she leaned her head on Lando's shoulders. "I'll blow you both a kiss when I come speeding past, lapping you ."
She had done extremely well for her first qualifying in F1, qualifying on the second row. Lando was 6th through a mistake in Q3 and Oscar was pack in 9th after he got his times deleted.
It was amazing, driving behind a three time world champion and a second time world champion. Y/N did her absolute best, holding her position.
And then Checo Perez tried his luck. He went around the outside of Y/N on turn one. But he didn't leave enough space, hitting her wheel pretty bad and sending her spinning into the barriers at such a high speed. But the car didn't just hit the barrier and bounce off. It hit the barrier and kept going, ripping off chunks of the car and sending them flying.
It wasn't too terrifying at first. It was still scary, though, Y/N's first race and her first big crash in F1. To make things worse it wasn't even her fault. She was having such a good race, doing everything she should have, and then Checo Perez fucked it all up for her.
As chunks of the car got ripped away by the barrier, the Mercedes team was still pretty sure she'd make it out. But then a piece of debris bit the wheel and shot up into the ear, coming back down and hitting the top of Y/N's helmet.
Suddenly, things were scary. The car came to a stop, pieces of it all over the track. "Y/N, are you okay?" Asked her engineer.
She didn't respond.
"Y/N? If you can hear me, please say something?"
Again, nothing. The Mercedes team were beginning to get worried.
***
"Red flag, Lando. That's a red flag," said Lando's engineer.
"What happened?" He asked as everybody pulled into the pitlane.
His engineer took a minute to answer. The team didn't know what was best, to tell Lando and have him freaking out, or to let him find out on his own.
"Uh, there's a Mercedes with some damage," the engineer said.
Lando's face went pale inside of his helmet. He knew the car in front of him was Hamilton, meaning the only other Mercedes on the track was...
Lando parked the car in the pitlane, the same as everybody else. He immediately climbed out of the car and started running. His engineer and the McLaren team tried to stop him, but Lando was still running. It was hot inside of his helmet, but nothing was going to stop him.
When Lando got down there, she still hadn't been pulled from the car, the debris was being removed, but Y/N wasn't. "Baby!" He shouted and ran over.
The stewards tried to hold him back, but Lando pushed them away. He began trying to pull her out of his car. As soon as they saw what he was doing they began helping him, pulling Y/N's limp body out of the car.
Limp, but not lifeless. At least, that was what the paramedics said as they lifted her into the ambulance.
Lando didn't want to attend the rest of the race. He couldn't concentrate as he waited for the race to restart. "Let Pato drive," he mumbled as he waited for news from the hospital. Nothing, and that was making him so fucking worried.
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tgcg · 10 months
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argument
its a big one
TG: alright this is probably a bust
TG: more i think about it how the fuck do you even make a marinara
TG: can i even alchemise cheese or do i gotta like alchemise the milk and curdle it myself
TG: how do you even curdle
====================
TG: make a goddamn
TG: curgler
TG: whatever
TG: internet archive gonna pull through
====================
CG: ALRIGHT DAVE
TG: shit
====================
CG: YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK OFF. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IN BULGEMUNCHING VIRULENT FUCK YOU GET THE IDEA YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD THINK ABOUT MY OWN GODDAMN PLANET. SORRY TO HAVE TO DEAL A BLOW TO YOUR IMPOSSIBLY INFLATED FUCKING EGO, BUT HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED THAT YOUR SIDE-EYE SLACKJAW HOPELESS DEADPAN BULLSHIT BEHAVIOUR IS ACTUALLY INCREDIBLY FUCKING CONTEMPTIBLE AND DOESN'T PUT YOU ABOVE OTHER PEOPLE? HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT?
CG: OR DID YOU JUST ASSUME FROM THE MOMENT YOU FOUND OUT I'M A REVOLTING FUCKING MUTANT LOWBLOOD FREAK THAT I'M SUDDENLY NOT ALLOWED TO LIKE THE IDEA OF MY LIFE MEANING SOMETHING AT SOME POINT?
TG: okay you are wildly misquoting me where the fuck did that come from
TG: also you scared the hell out of me
TG: im just trying to science some pizza here
====================
CG: OKAY THEN, DAVE! EXPLAIN TO ME AS WELL AS YOUR AMBLING ONE-NOTE SMOOTH EXCUSE FOR A 'THOUGHT'SPONGE CAN
CG: IN SOMEWHAT COHERENT TERMS, ALTHOUGH I KNOW THAT'S A TALL ORDER:
CG: HOW YOU SAYING MY ADOLESCENT DREAMS OF BECOMING A THRESHECUTIONER ARE "FUCKED UP AND IRONIC IN A NASTY ASS WAY" DOESN'T QUALIFY AS UNDERHANDEDLY KICKING ME IN THE MANDIBLE PRONGS!
CG: YOUR AUDIENCE AWAITS YOU WITH BATED BREATH! TAKE IT AWAY, M.C. BRAIN HEMORRHAGE.
====================
TG: okay i dont
TG: know how you got a hold of that phrasing because i said that shit in confidence
TG: get out of my business bro
CG: NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE: THIS METEOR IS A PHYSICAL, LITERAL LOCATION WE'RE BOTH IN. IT'S NOT A FUCKING PRIVATE CHATROOM. THIS MIGHT BLOW YOUR PITIFUL MIND BUT PEOPLE CAN ACTUALLY HEAR OTHER PEOPLE TALK WHEN THEY HAVE TO SHARE A SPACE! BRO!
TG: ugh
====================
CG: AND IT'S VERY INTERESTING YOU ACCUSE ME OF MISQUOTING YOU, AND THEN SUDDENLY TURN AND SPOUT FROM THAT SHITTY DRONING GROANSHAFT OF YOURS THAT I'M INVADING YOUR PRIVACY WHEN I DIRECTLY QUOTE YOUR SMARMY LITTLE SHAMEGLOBES!
CG: WOW! TURNS OUT KARKAT IS ACTUALLY BEING GENUINELY FUCKING UPSET ABOUT SOMETHING — WHO KNEW, RIGHT? WHO WOULD'VE GUESSED THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE GENUINE COMPLAINTS TO LEVEL AGAINST THE PEOPLE WHO GO SPOUTING HOOFBEASTSHIT ABOUT ME BEHIND MY BACK TO THEIR ECTOSIBLINGS?
TG: no dude can you shut up a second
CG: I MOST CERTAINLY FUCKING WILL, THANKS FOR THE OFFER! I'M NEVER TELLING YOU A GODDAMN THING AGAIN, SO I HOPE YOU MANAGE TO GAIN SOME WRINKLES TO THAT VESTIGIAL FLAWLESS ORB FLOATING AROUND IN YOUR CAVERNOUS NUGBONE FROM ALL THIS. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH ALL THE EFFORT ON YOUR END.
TG: listen!!!!
====================
CG: MHM! MY AURICULAR CHAMBERS ARE WIDE OPEN!
TG: jegus
TG: okay
TG: i have no defense for my literal phrasing but how expeditiously did you shadowstep the fuck away after i said that
TG: because that is some shrek tier "princess and ugly dont go together" level misrepresentation of my sweet self
TG: like if this wasnt obviously a heated platonic argument we were having i would probably be digging what the reference even if it was a shitty trope
====================
TG: i just
TG: have been thinking about some things and none of those things have got an iota of a thing to do with you or your blood
TG: thing
TG: man
TG: i dont know why you think id be so pressed about your vein juice its like
TG: a normal ass color for a normal ass guy
TG: and obviously it was a major fucking deal from how you talk about it but it doesnt need to be anymore
====================
TG: the thing is i just dont like have the same attitude as you about fighting and stuff and thats not something i am getting into right now but i am gonna make it expressly clear
TG: that its just kind of fucked up for me to sit my ass down and listen to someone spew gold and medals and confetti colored shit going googoo all over tall and loathsome ass bloodletters he never knew
TG: and have him tell me he wants to be the best guy at combat since samurai fuckin jack
TG: and thats my capital B business believe me the emphasis is there
====================
CG: SO IS THIS ABOUT ME WANTING TO BE PART OF SOMETHING YOU DON'T AGREE WITH? BECAUSE THRESHECUTIONERS DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST ANYMORE. I LITERALLY COULD NOT DO THIS IF I TRIED AT THIS POINT, SO YOU CAN UNKNOT YOUR “KNIGHTY WHITIES” ABOUT IT.
TG: being anti-military is not my point but damn if it isnt a thing thats probably true anyways so good job sleuthing that out
CG: WHAT IS YOUR POINT, DAVE.
TG: bluh
TG: i just said i dont wanna talk about it man
====================
CG: OKAY,
====================
CG: OKAY.
CG: I MEAN. IT FEELS KIND OF IMPORTANT TO THE CONTEXT OF THIS WHOLE UNAMBIGUOUSLY PLATONIC ARGUMENT WE'VE BEEN HAVING
CG: WHICH I'M RELIEVED WE AGREE ON BY THE WAY
CG: BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO KNOW I'M NOT GOING TO WRING IT OUT OF YOU. IT'S FINE.
====================
CG: …IF YOU DECIDE AT SOME POINT THAT YOU WANT TO TELL ME THOUGH, MY RUMBLE VESSELS ARE STILL OPEN.
TG: i swear youre making those up on the spot at this point
CG: I'M KEEPING MY LANGUAGE'S ART ALIVE, DAVE. IT'S BASIC DECENCY TO THE PLANET THAT RAISED ME.
TG: heh
====================
TG: yknow we got these things called anatomical snuffboxes
TG: its got that right amount of vague nose wrinklage to it that i feel like youd be right at home saying that
TG: snug as a grub even
CG: WHAT PART IS THAT???
TG: its that little weird bone bit that sticks out on the back of your palm when you flex your thumb right
====================
TG: look
CG: HUH. LOOKING AT THAT IS KIND OF WIGGING ME OUT.
TG: yeah its kinda gross rose told me about it
TG: but anyways
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TG: are we cool
CG: I MEAN… I GUESS SO. YOU WEREN'T ACTUALLY INSULTING ME, RIGHT?
TG: hell no dude never
CG: OKAY. I COMPLETELY RESCIND THE MYRIAD OF WAYS I JUST INSULTED YOU. AND I'M SORRY.
TG: nah i know its just fluff at this point
====================
CG: I STILL DON'T APPRECIATE YOU TELLING ROSE THINGS I SAY TO YOU IN CONFIDENCE. THAT WAS BETWEEN YOU, ME, AND MY NOW NON-EXISTENT HOME PLANET ROTTING AWAY TO A CRATERED GRAY HUSK IN ANOTHER DEAD UNIVERSE.
TG: i swear that was like the only thing its just that she gets it and i cant keep my mouth from going on about the gettable stuff
TG: they call me the babbling brook the way my flows so audible
TG: i wont do it again
CG: NO,
====================
CG: I GET IT HONESTLY.
CG: I'M BASICALLY THE NUMBER ONE PROPRIETOR OF AIRED GRIEVANCES IN ALL OF PARADOX SPACE AND THEN SOME, AND I'D ALSO BECOME ITS BIGGEST HYPOCRITE IF I HELD IT AGAINST YOU.
TG: thanks
TG: but i mean
TG: at the gigantic risk of sounding uh
====================
TG: ………..
CG: ?
====================
TG: well
TG: i kinda just think youre better at being a guy to chill out and watch movies with than a guy to tangle fists with
TG: and i dont think theres anything wrong with being that
TG: i think its cool
====================
CG: …THAT'S AN ALARMINGLY BRAZEN OBSERVATION TO MAKE OF SOMEONE YOU'VE KNOWN FOR ABOUT THE SPAN OF SEVEN SEASONAL EQUINOXES, DAVE.
TG: i dont know what that means but it sure is probably
CG: AM I ALLOWED TO ASK WHAT EVEN GIVES YOU THAT IMPRESSION????
TG: i just got that inkling about you man
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TG: and you can do whatever you want with that info
TG: throw it in the load gaper or whatever if you want i dont really care
TG: give it a swirly and slam it in a locker call it a nerd break its glasses whatever
TG: but beyond this whole lord english thing weve got going on i am pretty content to never aggress my fellow man slash alien slash monster again if i can help it
TG: i think thats pretty fair given what thats been like so far
====================
TG: and yknow its cool to have some company when im waxing emotional over the narrative depth of click starring adam sandler which we are watching next by the way
CG: UGH, FIIIIIIIIINE. JUST TO MAKE UP FOR CALLING YOUR THINKPAN SMOOTH AND SUPERFLUOUS.
====================
TG: score
TG: we should argue all the time
CG: SNRK
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