okay.. i know i said i’ll post the whole fic like.. ages ago(4 days).. BUT! i’ve been very occupied with studying for exams this week and as much as i would love to tell you i finished it and is just waiting for the right time to post, i have not finished but it’s almost—like 500 more words and done. it would most probably be posted this weekend instead! thank you for 150 notes on the blurb ^__^ that made me feel better about writing lololol! much love, nova! <3

‘please’, he begs as she looks up at his blue eyes full of need, she breathes deeper when his hands takes hold of her hip and jaw; thumbs caressing her skin, urging her to give in. the window slightly ajar blows air in the dimly lit room, it only fills the moment of desperation further. he hovers his agaped lips against hers, taking in each other’s eyes glazed with longing for something wrong, but long overdue. ‘this is wrong, seb. i don’t want to risk it.’, she murmurs as tears fall down her cheeks. ‘i know, baby. i know. but i can’t help myself anymore.’ he exhales, hands now gripping her skin, trying to fill in his voided need of finally feeling her lips on his. whimpering his name, he bites his lips attempting to stop himself upon acting on his need before her consent.

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⌞ a/n ⌝ - like i said i would, i’m currently in the midst of finishing a sebastian fic rn and my gosh is this man so.. everything. who wants a bestfriends to lovers fic with redbull seb? no words for him, just such a pretty boy. i’ll probably upload it by tomorrow afternoon, if i’m lucky enough. let me know what you think so far and suggest who should i write for next! ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

having the biggest brainrot rn and all fingers pointing towards the blame… redbull sebastian vettel! what a pretty pretty boy. he dominated sm when he was in rb, 4 wdc? he wasn’t called the golden boy for nothing. about to stir up sumn for this man. :>

reciprocated sentiment

⌞ sypnosis ⌝ - being acquainted with one out of the two current scuderia ferrari drivers have it’s pros and cons. the adrenaline of being able to support your childhood friend through each and every one of his races in person is one of the perks, and his teammate being the biggest only con.

⌞ wordcount & tags ⌝ - 1.2k+ / enemies to lovers! sexual tension! slight!angst fluff! google translated spanish!

⌞ a/n ⌝ - as promised, i would upload this today, perhaps.. just a few hours later than i said. this might be one of my favorite tropes to write so far (tension). let me know what you think and who should i write for next? happy reading! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

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the sweaty bodies of guests dancing to whatever song the speakers were playing from the norris’ manor distracted you from your thoughts. it was nearing midnight, a few more clicks of the watch’s hand and it’ll be the next day. both charles and lando had done a great job at occupying your attention for a while, not until oscar came and asked lando to dj with him, leaving you and charles alone with the rest of the group. the red cup filled with your drink has slowly started tasting less and less like liquor and more watery due to the ice melting.

‘do you want another drink?’ charles had offered, noticing your sour face after taking a sip. you smiled and shook your head, you’d rather sip some watered down liquor, than seek the risk of possibly bumping into his God-forsaken annoying cunt of a teammate, as you’d describe carlos. charles laughs at that, aware of your little rivalry with his teammate and finding it amusing.

‘you seem distracted, love. anything bothering you?’ he wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your shoulders, genuinely worried for his childhood friend. ‘i’m quite alright, cha.’ to which you respond, feeling a bit guilty lying to your friend. he hums, rubbing your hands on his thighs as a sign of reassurance. you both stay in that exact position for a while, cuddling each other whilst laughing at how silly it was when max had an argument with daniel regarding who would win in an arm wrestling battle between the two just a few hours prior.

your peace was interrupted when one of charles’ friend invites him to take a few rounds of shots with the rest of the group, you took this opportunity to make your way back to your room and call it a night. nearing your destination, a hand pulls at your arm and drags you to a secluded hallway. it was quiet and the lights were dim, if it wasn’t from the feeling of his coarse yet soft hands, as well as the strong smell of whiskey paired with his jasmine infused perfume, you wouldn’t recognize him. ‘where do you think you’re going, miss desperate?’, he whispers to your face, chuckling when he notices your irritated expression.

‘get off of me! desperate? god, you’re delusional, carlos.’ you laugh at his face, spitting out ‘you still bitter about cha’s p1 today?’, he slams you against the wall. slowly, his face lower to yours and you feel his eyes’ intense stare. chest heaving faster, you physically feel him bury his face to your neck just before whispering, ‘you are as breathtaking as charles described you to be, pero mi dios, you get on my nerves.’ you’re quick to return his stare with a glare. ‘you’re just as infuriating as me, sainz. you’re no different. if anything, desperation suits your name better than it does mine.’ lifting your hand to his bearded jaw and gently caressing his cheek, you give the spaniard a faux sympathetic smile. ‘you’re pathetic, and you’ll never amount to charles no matter how hard you work, carlos. he’ll always be better than you and you know this.’ your smile growing as the pressure of his hand against your throat gradually grows, you’re getting into his head. he grips your hips harder when he feels the tears finally brimming his eyes, he’s letting you get into his head.

‘joder, no me digas eso por favor, cariño. devuélvelo, por favor.’ fuck, don’t say that to me please, sweetheart. take it back, please. his overwhelming emotions way past the ability to being suppressed; he begs as his tears finally fall from his eyes and strain his skin, he then lays his forehead against yours—- pleading with his big, sad, teary, but oh so beautiful brown eyes. you’ve always loved everything about the spaniard’s eyes: how big it gets when he gets the opportunity to talk about his job, how it resembles a certain earth colored crystal, how they remind you of puppies, how beautiful it shines when met with light and how you catch them staring right back at yours with an emotion you’d never really been able to put a finger on.

‘No quisiste decir eso, ¿verdad, mi amor? look me in the eyes and say it again.’ he pleads, his walls completely down, waiting to be stepped on. he waits—- he waits and waits for your reassurance all while he cries to your hands cupping his face. from an outsider’s perspective, it might seem as the two of you had a lovers quarrel, but you’re no lovers, barely even acquainted. the fact leaves a heavy feeling to your chest whenever you think about how other people— how other women get to touch him, get to fawn over his figure and charming looks, praise how good of a driver he was knowing their true intention with the man. for the longest time you called this strange feeling hate, often bringing up your dislike to the spaniard that it was known by almost everyone in the grid. so why does seeing him in tears and begging for your comfort, brings an immense feeling of joy instead of pleasure?

an epiphany strikes your senses, it dawns upon you that you wanted the crying man all to yourself, and you’d been denying it for years. so the moment you hear him beg once again, you kiss him. your lips moving in sync with his, gripping the hair just before his neck and then his jaw, you kiss him deep. carlos kisses you back just as hungrily, he pulls your hips nearer and tries to deepen the connection just before you pull away. dragging him to your room, you sit the spaniard down at the couch before straddling him. with his wide eyes and plump lips slightly agape, he waits for you to make a move, fearing he would mess it all up and lose you if he makes even the slightest mistake. combing his messy hair, taking your time to admire the man, you utter him a compliment, so handsome. he gives you a shy smile, feeling timid under your gaze. you bring your lips back to his, gentler this time, more sensual— scared you’d break the man if you act upon your greed and possessiveness.

relishing the feeling of his tongue against yours, you pull away to breathe, carlos chasing to have your mouth back to his, but you deny him. ‘cariño, please. let me kiss you’, carlos pleads, caressing your waist and deliberately grinding up to you, he whimpers, feeling needier by the second. kissing his temple, you go down to kiss each of his cheek and his eyes, his nose, his jaw and gradually making your way down to his neck and collarbones. sucking marks to his nape, carlos grips your hip and cradles your head to his hand as he moans to your ear. ‘mierda, quiero volver a sentirte, por favor mi amor.’ shit, i want to feel you again, please my love. grinding your hips back, you pull his hair and grip his throat before mouthing mine to his lips and finally giving him what he’s been begging you for.

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the sunlight peeking behind the blinds, you feel the breeze of air from the window gap, waking your spirit. you open your eyes only to realize that your head was on top of carlos’ chest, you look up to him, taking in his sleeping form. tracing shapes on his skin, enjoying the warmth and stillness of the moment, you feel a kiss to your temple followed by his arms bringing you impossibly closer to him. ‘goodmorning, mi amor.’ ‘goodmorning, carlito’, laughing when he starts attacking you with kisses. ‘no! no! no, teasing this early, please bonita.’ you humm in defeat, cuddling into each others warmth, no longer denying the overdue of reciprocated yearning between the both of you.

fin.

‘get off of me! desperate? god, you’re delusional, carlos.’ you laugh at his face, spitting out ‘you still mad about cha’s p1 today?’, he slams you against the wall. slowly, his face lower to yours and you feel his eyes’ intense stare. chest heaving faster, you physically feel him bury his face to your neck just before whispering, ‘you are as breathtaking as charles described you to be, pero mi dios, you get on my nerves.’ you’re quick return his stare with a glare. ‘you’re as infuriating as me, sainz. you’re no different. if anything, desperation suits your name better than it does mine.’ lifting your hand to his bearded jaw and gently caressing his cheek, you give the spaniard a faux sympathetic smile.

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⌞ a/n ⌝ - hello! here’s a snippet of the carlos fic i’m currently editing as of the moment. it would most likely be uploaded tonight around 5 or 6 p.m E.S.T !! let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions who i should write for next! ୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

128 and 89 notes on my first two works? i haven’t even been here for 2 days and the amount of support is surreal to me! thank you for liking and commenting, even reading them is more than enough for me. thank you guys so much! ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

sparked secrecy

⌞ sypnosis ⌝ - one of the unspoken rules of friendship is to always keep it platonic. between your circle of friends, the line of friendship start to blur between you and a certain pair of blue-green eyes. what happens when you begin to favor one more than the others?

⌞ wordcount & tags ⌝ - 1k+ words. fluff! lando x reader! slight!slowburn! head over heels for each other! highschoolsweethearts!

⌞ a/n ⌝ - here’s a little something i worked on after watching a cute edit of lando i saw on my fyp. for the mean time, i might start doing small drabbles of other drivers as well before writing the second part of my first work ;). happy reading!

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three minutes clicks the clock before the bells go off signaling lunch, students favorite time of the day. it was yours as well, as much as theirs, because it was a full hour and quarter of laughter, bantering and endless conversations with the people you adore, your friends. one by one, students grab their belongings and head straight to the cafeteria, including your friends who didn’t miss inviting you before your short answer of i’ll be with you guys in a sec, referring to your books and supplies.

when the noises died down, you had initially thought you were alone, not until you hear a soft cough. bringing your eyes towards the noise just to see lando leaning down towards you in a chair. ‘hi’, he softly grins at you: ‘hi’, smiling at him in return. gazing at eachother’s eyes, you feel the rush of blood to your cheeks, and as quickly as you could, you try and distract him with a conversation.

‘why aren’t you in the cafeteria with them?’

‘you look really pretty.’ it fails.

his hand reaches for your hair, tucking it behind your ear, he then gently caresses your scarlet tinted cheeks with his thumb. ‘cherry’, he utters while observing your flushed face. slapping him with your english book, giggles and a small ‘ow!’ from lando echoes in the room. ‘let’s go?’, gathering your items, you look at him only to see his eyes already on yours, staring, admiring. with a small smile, he says, ‘yeah, let’s go.’

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listening intently to daniel’s story on how he managed to pull his girlfriend of 2 years, you can hear charles’ complaints about it’s repetition, sick of hearing how utterly in love his friend was. ‘mate, i’ve heard this story more than i’ve heard max talk about being the top student, daniel please!’, charles exhaustedly rolling his eyes, the group laughs at the two; giggling, you joined. ‘well to be honest i’d quite prefer his stories rather than sit here and endure about yuki’s problems with his crush.’ pierre only adds to the group’s laughter. the latter is quick to defend himself with a very verbal curse to his friend as well as a witty comment about carlos who laughed at pierre’s statement, ‘well carlos here isn’t even trying to talk to his, so i don’t know why he’s laughing’. carlos only responds with his middle finger.

continuing to write down your ideas on how you’re going to design the cake you plan on baking tonight, you hear your name being called by oscar. ‘heard from lily you received a love letter with chocolate covered cherries on your locker, mind giving us an insight on who?’. with a smile, you ignore your friends’ continuous questions regarding the matter with a short ‘no can do.’ despite so, they continue to nag you of any information, a hint to whoever this mystery admirer of yours was. stretching, lando gives you an amused look, sharing a small moment of sparked secrecy before you comb through your hair to hide the beaming look on your face.

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the cool breeze of the air blows your hair right onto your face as you walk, chuckling to yourself, you try and comb your hair back to decency with your fingers. it works for a while, but the wind comes back stronger and that’s when you decide to finally put a stop to your agony and lando’s endless rude comments about how your hair reminds him of the full grown bush outside his parents house. the both of you side by side walk towards the train station just before parting to say goodbye. ‘i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?’, he smiles softly towards you and you return with a grin, ‘of course, who else are you gonna copy statistics out of?’.

lando lazily rolls his eyes and comes up with a comeback, but ultimately fails. quickly you say your byes to him before boarding the train, usually you would wave him goodbye but today seems to be different, sitting at a chair, you look away nervously. lando still frozen on his feet, gradually lifts his fingers and graze his left cheek. yes, you didn’t wave him goodbye, but instead, you had kissed him. it had been a good minute after the train had left when finally, he starts coming back to his senses. with a silly smile that reaches upto his ears, lando begins to take his route home. step by step, the boy couldn’t help but replay the way you leaned up towards him and gently place your soft lips on his cheek with your hand on his chest. he rethinks it all, simmers it all down to his memory as much as he could, afraid he’d forget any bit of detail.

what would tomorrow be like? how would my day be? shall i ask her to eat lunch? should i give her something? i think i should text her. no! that’s not a good idea. but.. how would i know if she’s reached home? i should wait instead.. right? ughhh i don’t know! maybe i should text he— his thoughts were interrupted when he feels his phone vibrate and make a small sound of pingg! fishing it out of his pocket quickly, he looks at the screen to read your message of ‘i forgot to take my chapstick back from your bag, could you bring it to class tomorrow, please lan?’ followed by another, ‘oh and by the way, in case you were wondering, i’m home. :)’.

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clicking his keys on his house door, he heads straight to the the bathroom right after disregarding his items in his room. in the middle of dressing himself to comfortable clothes after a shower, lando’s eyes lands on his bag just behind his door. a thought runs through his head as he grabs it and does his search. hearing a knock on his door, lando removes his headset before responding with ‘coming!’. he finds his family preparing the dining table for dinner as he walks up to his mother and kissing her hello before helping. his ears perks up to his mother’s voice calling his name across the table. ‘are you wearing chapstick, darling? it smelt like a cherry one to me.’ now scarlet faced, lando lowers his head down trying to hide the growing smile on his lips. not wanting to raise suspicion and receive weary eyes from the rest of the family, the boy hums as a response. choosing to stay quiet and listen to the conversation between his father and siblings until rest of the dinner, lando swiftly comes back to his room and sends you a response. ‘hey, just finished eating dinner. sure! and it was the cherry one, right?’.

fin.

abu dhabi gp ‘23

⌞ sypnosis⌝ - a sport dominated by men will never rewrite it’s rules for a woman. luck was on your side as well as your team when you first joined f1 as it’s first ever woman racer. how long would it take until your luck runs out?

⌞ tags! ⌝ - angst! teammatelewis! angry!totowolff! ogcharacter! cursewords! f1! mercedesdriver!character! y/n as yves!

⌞ a/n ⌝ - hii! i finally found the courage to make an account where i could comfortably upload my works about f1 or anything that inspires me in general lol. i do hope you enjoy my first fic! the inspiration for this was me watching brazil gp 2019, whilst eating dinner then it reminded me of lana’s song. also, y/n is named as yves.

- norman fucking rockwell - lana del rey

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‘don’t do this to me please! guys, i’m begging.’ was what yves radio engineer hears when he had given the order to let lewis overpass her and take p1. he understood that pain, his driver yves is currently going through, was not going to be a good addition after the countless fights she went through in every lap to stick with the plan, win p1. she kept her word, no matter what order given to her radio was, how long the gap is between her and the next driver she’s going to overtake, or the risk of losing her place if she pitted in; she managed to come out on top. so why doesn’t it make sense to her? she had trusted each and every instructions from her race engineer and from her team principal, toto, who before race had told her to win.

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‘i need you to win, yves. do you understand? i need you to be on that podium.’, toto firmly repeats to her before she nods, ‘yes, understood.’

‘you’ve raced this track countless of times, lewis. i trust you know what to do?’, toto looks at lewis with a small knowing smirk, then hearing a short response from the man, ‘of course.’

‘so it’s clear? both of my racers podium, or i won’t have it.’, he jokes to the two drivers who can be heard laughing. yves smiles to herself, thinking about winning always puts a cheeky grin on her face. it was clear and apprehended, plan a was for both her and lewis to place no lower than p3, regardless who places p1 like toto wolff himself stated. yet, if things doesn’t play out the way they planned and designed it to be, one of them has to win at least. feeling a pair of eyes to her left, her thoughts were interrupted with lewis across the table, gazing at her with gentle but knowing eyes; which yves is now familiar with, we got this.

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with 2 laps left, she keeps her spot as leader before pressing the button to her radio. ‘i don’t understand, marcus. please please plea-s—…. what do you mean i have to give up my place?’. on the other side, back in the garage, marcus with one side of his headphone out from the ear, listens to toto give him the order to make yves switch positions with lewis. he furrows his eyebrows, but nevertheless lets his driver know of the news. he could hear her cries of confusion exactly the moment he closed his radio. ’why! i don’t understa—an—d. why would he say that? i-i mean it’s not part of the plan.. no?’. slowing her pace, finally letting lewis pass her, she hears her radio go off with the quick ‘it’s part of the plan. it was toto’s orders. confirm if you understand.’ not responding, she hears him follow up with, ‘good job, yves. you just have to guard this position from verstappen who is -6.18 behind you, one more lap to go and you are finished!’.

oh! and how suprising is that! leader of the laps for almost half of the race, the mercedes driver yves is slowing down for her teammate lewis hamilton and seems to be switching positions. isn’t that just one hell of a plot twist, everybody! i guess their original plan is now disregarded as lewis makes a beautiful overtake to his teammate, yves for the final lap!

now leading the final lap of the race with his teammate -1.18 behind him, lewis presses his radio button before asking his engineer, ‘mate, i need an explanation. this is not part of the plan, right?’. he receives a response shortly from bono after, ‘it is, lewis. toto declared you p1 loud and clear before the race.’ he lets out a breath, checking his mirrors to see yves’ car behind him exactly like they were instructed it to be. he knew what this meant to her, how this could affect the supporters, he understood that maybe, no, precisely after this race, changes are bound to happen to the dynamics of not only the team, but between them as well. years of experience in the sport has given lewis the opportunity of gaining skills and to unleash his true potential as a driver, that’s the reason why he is now a 7th time world champion. but he also recognized the importance of sportsmanship, learned how to be a better teammate; from the list of drivers in the grid, he knew that the most. roars of their engines, exhaustion from the race and continuous radio updates from bono had completely overwhelmed lewis, but despite so, his thoughts were certain.

‘what is he doing?! what the hell!’, confused, yves swerves to lewis’ right side of the car before looking at him. now side to side, both cars hear toto’s voice on their radios reminding them to keep their original positions, ‘no! no! that was dangerous, the both of you! lewis overtake now!’.

what a sight! the two mercedes are now driving side by side as they take their final turns towards the checkered flag! is this lewis finally grasping his 8th world championship title? or is it going to be yves’ first from her home race?

she finally understood what lewis was trying to do, for a split second she imagined it: her dream, the celebration, the overwhelming feeling of joy, the trophy and the title. the title. brimming tears that she has been battling from falling last 2 laps ago, finally touched her cheeks as she slowly but firmly stepped the brakes to her car, allowing lewis to cross the line first.

phenomenal that was for the mercedes team! an incredible, yet brave move from yves as she hit her breaks final second from the line. ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a beautiful 1-2 from mercedes! max verstappen coming in third and hamilton, finally, finally claiming his 8th world championship title in abu dhabi! what a race!

maneuvering the car back to her station like she was told by her engineer, she stops and finally take her helmet, balaclava and gloves off. resting her head on her steering wheel, she weeps to herself. hopelessness enveloping her whole body, she softly wails and grips her hair, eventually expressing the pain she endured the entire race. fireworks, engine sounds, news/journalists people asking questions and the cheers and chants of congratulations for lewis was all she could hear. she fears of looking pathetic, but it never came across her that feeling it was worse. hurriedly getting out of his car and rushing to take his gear off before avoiding as much people as he could, lewis runs off to her garage. he finds her in the exact position as he thought before he crouches, cradle her head on his hand and brushing her hair away from her face. softly, he calls out her name. feeling wet tears on his thumb, he expected to see teary sad eyes from the girl; taking a deep breath, what he sees suprises him the moment she turns her head towards lewis. a pair of crying angry eyes meets his. just like his races, he had predicted the consequences alongside of this win was, he just wasn’t prepared for it to be this soon.

fin.

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get to know me !!

- nova(ien). nineteen. asian. north america. - very much fixated on f1, seventeen and lana del rey. - my muse in writing are mostly men with fast cars. mercedes - amg petronas ⊹ ࣪ ˖ LH44 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ scuderia ferrari ⊹ ࣪ ˖ CS55

mclaren ⊹ ࣪ ˖ LN4