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#as an engineer i am shaking my head
brainrotdotorg · 5 months
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here is my pitch for a mainstream movie trailer for disco elysium because i want you to suffer
Starts with complete darkness.
VO Ancient reptillian brain: “There is nothing… Only an ancient primordial blackness…”
“Radioactive” by imagine dragons starts playing
We see harry appear in this dark void, floating in slo-mo, camera slowly zooms into Harry’s face
VO Ancient Reptillian brain “Your consciousness ferments in it, no larger than a single grain of malt…”
Camera comes to rest on harry’s face, taking up the whole screen
VO Ancient Reptillian brain “No ex-wives are contained in it…”
Wham sound effect, music cuts out
Reaction shot of Harry opening his eyes. “Wait. Ex-wives?”
VO Limbic System: “Time to go to work in the shit factory!”
Sound of Kineema engine starting up that blends into the first lyric of the song
“I’m waking up to ash and dust” plays just as we see Harry open his eyes on the floor, Voice over plays as he looks around the trashed room confused
VO Harry: “Who am I? Why am I here?”
Clip of kim and harry shaking hands
Kim: “We’re detectives. We’re here to solve a murder.”
Harry: “I’m a police officer? I must be a superstar cop!”
“I’m breathing in the chemicals” inhale right as harry snorts some speed
Kim facepalms
Text in the disco elysium font on black screen:
HE’S LOOKING FOR ANSWERS
VO Joyce over a shot of the skyline: “Something is happening in this town, officer.”
VO Harry over numerous quick clips of him failing little things: kicking the mailbox, dropping the barbell, etc: “I’m an alcoholic. I’ve got a bunch of voices in my head. I don’t even know who I am! How do you expect me to solve a murder?”
VO Kim over him writing in his notebook: “I expect you to work, detective. It’s not easy; but thats the job.”
TO A MYSTERY:
Extremely fast montage of action or particularly striking moments synced up to a bunch of edited in bass thumps to the song– harry making the jump to get the coat, swinging to punch measurehead, visual calculus constructing a crime scene in glowing CGI effects, cuno shouting “fuckpig!” harry and kim dancing in the church, Harry reaching out his hand to the phasmid (who is out of frame), dolores dei turning away from the camera, culminating with kim lifting his gun in slow-mo to point at the mercenary
VO KIM: “Never fuck with Kim kitsuragi.”
Music slows and stops entirely
WHAT KIND OF COP IS HE?
Smash cut to a reaction shot of Harry looking in admiration. “How’d you get so cool, Kim?”
Reaction shot of Kim making a smug expression thats cut from a different scene.
Beat drop
THIS SUMMER IS GOING TO BE
Montage of different characters clipped saying the word “disco”
DISCO ELYSIUM
Wham shot, music cuts out. Harry leaned over a countertop about to lick the rum stain. Kim clears his throat.
Harry’s eyes dart to look up at kim. Shot of kim raising the eyebrow.
Slowly, slowly, he moves to lick the stain.
VO Electrochemistry: Aww, yeah.
Kim, sighing and shaking his head: “We’re all doomed.”
RATED PG-13
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thvhoe · 5 months
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SWEET NOTHING | JJK (M)
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PAIRING: Boxer Jungkook x Ballerina Reader
GENRE: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, BOXER AU, DANCE AU, SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST
WORDS: 10k
SYNOPSIS:
They say home is where the heart is, but what if Jungkooks home is you, and you're not here to soothe his pain?
WARNINGS: abusive parents, drugs, Jungkook is mad and sad and curses a lot, ANGST, yall they love each other, blood(?), strict parents, JUNGKOOKS GRANDMA SLAYYYYY, SPICY SHOWER TIME (jk needs release), jerking off, cum shot, its kinda sad tho-, cursing, they're complete opposites, cringe nicknames (lol you should know me by now), ANNOYING inner thoughs AGAIN, lots of inner monologue, reader is insecure (even more now) shes sad :(, emo boy Jk, inexperienced reader, Oc travels🙌, she feels anxious and alone, bad thoughts
An: tysm for helping me along the way and motivating me every day to finish this one! Big thanks to all my readers and @erica2283 for always taking some time to help me out! Hope you enjoy, have your tissues ready and something warm to drink in this cold weather or vise versa! Dont forget your snacks either🙌🥹
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Since that night, there has been radio silence. Neither of you were in the proper mood or at the right time to send that initial text. You're not sure how to handle things right now. He'd only stared at you for a few seconds after his last words before leaving. His dark hair, now shorter, was concealed beneath his beanie–the one youd bought together on his birthday a few weeks prior. Youd chosen it. A bright blue colour to contrast his usual dark clothing. His jaw was tenser than normal, jawline sticking out even more.
Was he upset with you? Or perhaps at himself? You can still hear the roars of his engine as he drove away with his bike and your heart.
As your window remained open, the bitter winter wind made its appearance. What made him stop you? That's all you've been thinking about since.
It was such a sweet night, sweet kiss, sweet nothing
2 days. Two days of self-isolation disguised as illness so your mother would let you stay at home.
Two days of eating nothing but soup, as your mother urged, to get rid of your cold.
Youd gotten sick of it too quickly, after the third portion that day to be exact. So you didnt hesitate to order in tonight–thank god for your parents being somewhere else.
Although the prospect of some fresh food seemed delightful a few hours ago, you didn't even touch it when it arrived. You did give the driver a big tip, hoping hed have a better day than you.
The food was now sitting on your window counter, perhaps as depressed as you were. Am I not enough? Was the food not enough to be eaten? Great.
Now, you were even pitying your food.
Grabbing the fork, you swirl it a few times, no need to blow it in case it was hot because it wasn't.
Youre happy for about 5 seconds before you swallow and put your fork back down–you weren't hungry anymore.
He's been gone for two days. Isn't it a thing that some people experience heartbreak? Perhaps that's what you had-
Nope, not the time
This was not the moment to self-diagnose.
You didnt break up
That's not how things worked right?
Right?
So you shake your head and hum along to the gentle music in the background. It didn't help–who would have guessed that playing Right Where You Left Me while depressed was a bad idea? Everyone but you, most likely.
You sigh as you examine your chipped nails, which you haven't even redone since that day. Your motivation close to zero, your body shutting down as you simply wanted to lie in bed and stare out the window–fall asleep and wake up the next day, perhaps it was all a dream.
"Cross-legged in the dim light. They say what a sad sight". the lyrics sing.
I know
Your lips curl upwards for the first time, but for all the wrong reasons–self pity. Its anything but new.
You hum to yourself as you chip off the last of your green nailpolish, which both you and him laughed at when you showed him. The way his hand cradled your waist as he drew you in, his nose brushing against your hair as he chuckled. "What a stupid colour". It was a stupid colour.
-
Jungkook isn't sure when he arrives–all he knows is that he's standing on his grandparents' porch, his Harley parked somewhere up front. He usually double-checked, making sure it was actually parked and switched off, so that anyone attempting to steal his prized possession would have a more difficult time. But not this time.
He was still in your room 25 minutes ago, his hands all over your body. He tries everything he can to get the image out of his thoughts. Not because he didn't want to see you, but because he loved you for fucks sake. Handling emotions was sometimes the worst thing anyone could expect him to do. Love wasn't all horrible.
He knew it wasn't.
But there was always something bad before there was something good.
Always
He just didn't want the good you two had to come to an end. So, yes, he was afraid, panicked, and left
He felt like a complete dick. Coming to a halt he thinks for a moment. He was a dick.
Theres silence, maybe a few leaves rustling in the background as he cracks his knuckles and tilts his head, cursing
His hand reaches inside his back pocket, where only two items are hidden away; His keys and a pack of cigarettes.
He decides not to go for a smoke right now. Progress
He always knocks out of respect, but he didn't have time to wait for his grandmother to open the door right now, so he let himself in. He was confident they wouldn't mind.
They never did. Unlike his parents.
Whatever mood he was in now–confusion, sadness, anger–it was no time to think about the poeple that liked to call themselves his parents
Before entering the cosy place he loved to call his second home, one final gust of wind passed his face. Sending one last cold shiver down his spine, but he doesnt regret leaving his jacket at yours.
Hed rather freeze out here than picture you sick in bed. He knew how easily your body caught colds
The smell of food and the fragrant lavender candle that his grandmother has lit every night since he was a child causes a grin to come across his face. This time, only happy recollections from his childhood flooded his head.
Christmas, birthdays, holidays. Hed spend them all here
He wonders why he hasn't brought you here before, so he nods and makes a mental point to do it soon.
"Jungkookie?" His grandmother screams out from the kitchen, having grown accustomed to his unannounced visits. He was bracing himself for a reprimand to get asked where he had been for the past few weeks because he hadn't passed by. He smiles once more.
He didnt mind the scoldings.
"Yeah, it's me," he says as he removes his boots, cringing as he notices some dirt fall over the clean floor, yeah, his grabdma was going to scold him later for that.
"You come just in time for dinner," her soothing voice directs Jungkook to the marginally warmer kitchen, where he properly welcomes her with a kiss on the cheek.
Dinner looked delicious now that he was looking down at the pots
"I'm not hungry," he says, drawing a frown and a slap on the arm from her.
"You come to my house to eat," she simply states, "and you've gotten so skinny!" she exclaims now fully facing him, "look at you!"
The smile on his face fades to an annoyed expression "im toning down-"
"Tone down tone up-" she shakes hear head motioning her hand at him "tomato tomato". Mumbling something under her breath, Jungkook only manages to make out the words "not taking care of yourself". He smiles.
As he leans on the counter, he lets out a chuckle. "Wheres grandpa?" After a few seconds of silence, he asks over the old radio–the one he had to fix one too many times but his grandmother wouldn't let go of–still playing in the background.
"Old guys at the bar watching the football game," his grandma scoffs. Jungkook simply lauhs, understanding that the love his grandparents shared was more than just love–it was friendship, trust, and adoration. His thoughts immediately return to you. And he chews his lower lip. As his grandmother prepares the pots for brewing, she cleans her hands with a wet towel.
"so whats on your mind?" She hums, turning to face him and placing her loving palm on his cheek.
"Im not-"
"Don't make excuses," she says sternly again. "come on tell me whats wrong, ill prepare us some tea while dinner finishes cooking" turning away once more she starts heating up water, gathering the things together
Jungkook simply nods, knowing that arguing with his grandmother never worked. He was relieved it didn't.
And it's not like he came here for no cause. He was originally on his way home, but something happened along the route that brought him here.
He quickly grabs two tea cups from the cupboards to assist his grandmother in setting the table, sitting down when she tells him to as she brings the kettle of freshly brewed tea. It smells even better now, and even his sensitive nose can appreciate the scent of warmth and affection.
-
He has no idea how much time has passed since he began talking about everything, and he means everything. It was as if his tongue couldn't stop. From the day he met you until your first kiss, disagreement, and reconciliation.
Of course, his grandmother was not new to the idea of you–Jungkook was always good at showing her pictures of you when he visited, and he wouldn't keep his girlfriend a secret from one of the most important ladies in his life.
She'd insisted on him bringing you here so she could meet you and bond over girly things many times.
Jungkook smiles at the thought, but he didn't want to push things, and you were a busy person anyhow, so it would have been hard.
"And now I'm here," he says, having described all that happened from beginning to end, possibly omitting the part when he argued with Jimin, which wasn't relevant anyway.
His grabdma frowns and sits back on the sofa, the big lights in the living room switched off as she turned on the smaller ones. "Youre afraid of love?"
She only wants to be assured. Jungkook sighs, frowns, opens his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it again. In annoyance, he runs his hand through his hair and closes his eyes. "Maybe"
-
Jacket, bag, another pair of shoes in case you lose yours
Your eyes scan your room, words repeating in your head.
Jacket..., bag..., shoes...
Oh
Your phone.
You walk from your door to your bedroom and disconnect the device, tapping it once to see whether you have any new messages. Of course you didn't, all it shows is your lockscreen, a picture of Jungkooks and your hand forming a heart. It couldnt be something obvious, too scared your mom would ask questions.
A sigh escapes your lips as you slip the purple phone into your back pocket, eager to forget about jt for the few hours it will take to drive to Busan. Another sigh escapes your lips–you're on your way to a competition. It was unexpected, and you couldn't pretend to be sick for any longer than necessary, so as you gather your belongings, you make your way downstairs, your mother already there at the door, hushes you inside the car.
You didn't have much time to practise, especially since you hadn't been to the studio in two days due to being 'sick'. You felt horrible for lying, but it was better than telling your mother that a boy had broken your heart. She'd freak if she found out. If she knew what he did for a living, she'd flip.
Nothing irritates you more in life than being judged, and people who judge. Jungkook was a decent person. You don't care what your mother thinks of him, and sure, if she ever found out–which was unavoidable–you'd choose him. The only question was, would he also choose you?
Again, you bite your lip as you connect your headphones to your phone, putting them on and switching to noice cancelling. Whatever your mom was talking about on the phone with one of her friends, you didnt care. Yet your gaze drifted to her manicured hand every now and then. Maybe for reassurance? Maybe to see she was still here in the car with you. It was weird, but the thought of being left alone was horrifying, especially now that Jungkook had left and you didnt know if hed be coming back.
Thank goodness for your earphones–a perfect way to shut your eyes and let you slip into a dreamworld
Sleep wasnt what you needed, youd plenty over the past days. It was easier to sleep than to deal with your emotions now anyway.
So you stare out the window, watching as the building gets smaller, roads lesser and sky bluer as the morning arises. Your stomach grumbling was a good sign at least, the will to eat was close to nothing since he left. Youre glad your hunger is back and healthier than ever. What youd give for a fresh coffee and sandwhich from your favourite backery now.
Sighing your eyes drift back to the sky, trying your best to distract yourself from the long ride ahead of you. But even the clouds seemed to remind you of him. As one of them looked exactly like his silhouette.
You close your eyes. Fine. If this is what it took for some peace of mind so be it.
So you skip to the next song, leaning against the window, trying to replay Britney Spears Gimme More music video in your memory. And it worked for a while, until the song ended and you felt like crying when your and Jungkook's favourite song came on.
Should you send Jungkook a brief text message? Notifying him that you'll be gone until tomorrow night?
Pursing your lips, you sink into your seat, playing with the phonecase as you think
You decide against it after grabbing your phone and monitoring your chat. Why would you text him, if he didnt seem to care?
Your mother notices your frown and swiftly snaps you out of it as she turns around and continues the call with her friend. Taking one last peek at the chat–specifically, his profile photo, a picture of you two and bam–you switch off your phone for the rest of the travel as you let your music play.
-
Jungkook made the right decision by cancelling his classes with Coach Chan for tomorrow and spending the night at his grandmother's. It had been a while, and he felt awful for not spending enough time with them, while he still could.
Besides, the breakfast was always a 10 out of 10
But he preferred to be alone, unbothered and alone with his thoughts.
That wasn't an excuse not to come over more regularly, though. So while he lies in bed, closing his eyes–images of you cross his thoughts, your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your lips–everything.
With a grunt, he turns around, turning on the modest lights on his nightstand as he grabs his phone and clicks on your chat without thinking.
Y/n 🍓
When he sees your profile picture–you in your favourite yellow sundress laying on the grass–his lips curl up.
Nobody else knew hed taken the photo, and you collapsed into his arms and lips not long after.
He sighs at the memories, and his fingers begin to type before he can think clearly.
Miss you miss you miss you
When he jerks out of it, he comes to a halt, his eyes scanning the text. 'Are you awake?' Shaking his head, he deletes it, briefly terrified when he noticed you were online. He just hopes you didn't notice the 'typing' icon.
He wanted to know what you were up to, to apologise, to hug and kiss you. But you wouldn't want him to do that.
He thinks for a second then shakes his head
No, you probably didnt.
He physically left you when he climbed out of your balcony and back to his bike. "Idiot," he mumbles to himself as he reclines and rubs his tattooed palm across his face. "Fucking idiot," he says again.
This was the time for him to relax, go to the gym, and let his frustrations out. But he couldn't. He was too far away from home and his responsibilities.
The thought causes his gut to clench. What if anything bad happened to you while he was away? What if something bad happens and it's all his fault because he's scared? The word causes him to flinch. Scared.
He was never scared.
Was taught not to be.
He was strong and scary. But never scared. Perhaps this was the first time he had genuinely felt it
It wasn't for him. It was for you. He closes his eyes again, deciding not to get too caught up. Finally, he drifts off to sleep.
Jungkook's body wakes him up again at about 2 am, the sudden need to use the bathroom being too intense for him to fall back asleep.
So he stands up, moaning as he glances down, his morning boner inescapable as he proceeds to the guest toilet, briefly gazing at the shower before heading to the toilet.
He leans against his legs, closing his eyes, trying his hardest to stay awake. And when he stands in front of the mirror a few seconds later, his eyebags larger than usual, he thinks that a few minutes of sweet relief is worth a few minutes of less sleep.
Thank heavens that the guest bathroom is downstairs, for the shower, which was now on full blast, cold water hitting the tyres, wasn't waking up his poor grandparents, who were completely unaware of his shenanigans this late at night.
Jungkook could care less that the water was freezing cold as he stripped off his clothes and checked the temperature, shivers running down his spine as he let the water cover his torso, hair, and legs.
It isn't long before his gaze returns to his length, his fingers toying his manhood for a few moments before deciding that this isn't the time for teasing, especially when you aren't around to be the one doing it.
So he tugs at it, a hiss departing his lips before he finds his rhythm, hand on the cold shower wall as he attempts to find his release as quickly as possible, curses erupting one after the other.
He bites his lower lip, groans, pauses for a second, then doubles his speed till his cum is coating his lower belly and parts of the wall, which he cleans up afterwards.
He feels empty when he falls back into his bed, head resting on the pillow, wet hair making it slightly uncomfortable.
"Fuck"
-
You arrive at 12 pm, streching your limbs as you climb out the car, the sun hitting your face, and a gentle breeze flowing over your shoulders, making you mentally thank yourself for not forgetting your jacket.
Surprisingly, the venue is in the countryside, which you don't mind at all, the sight of cows and horses in the region provides you with a seratonin boost that you definitely needed today and for the rest of the week.
Your thoughts wander back to Jungkook, your stomach clenching at the prospect of not telling him where you were.
Its all you did over the months youve been dating. You told him what you were doing at all times. Because he cared, he wanted to know youre alright.
And so did you. You loved the little "gym", "home", "bed" texts. You loved knowing he thought of you.
So what if he wants to apologize, climb up your balcony and you aren't there?
You quickly shake your head when you grab your phone, realising he could just send you a simple text asking where youre at. So you unwind.
Your mothers already left for the hotel she reserved, while you midlessly inform her that you will follow her later, as you want to wander about the region a bit before heading out for the competition tonight.
You've always been drawn to farms, animals, and the fresh air of the countryside. You recall your aunt taking you to a farm every summer for a few years until your schedule became too hectic.
You purse your lips, remembering the fantastic times you had everytime you were there.
The laughter, the crying when you fell and scraped your knees, the calmness of zero responsibilities
As you set your bag down, you grab the boots you packed, shuddering at how muddy it got when it struck the floor. Regardless, you take off your white shoes and replace them with rainboots before standing back up, brushing your hands over your pants and crossing your arms as you observe the landscape.
Thats at least, until a cat approaches you, wrapping its tail around your legs as you lean down to pat it. For the first time in days, you chuckle.
Again. Your thoughts turn to Jungkook.
"Hello Missy."
As she purrs, your manicured fingertips sweep over the silky furr, a smile forming on your lips.
Strands of hair fall into your face over the minutes you spend patting it, the messy bun youd done 2 hours into the car ride slowly undoing itself
"I wish I could take you with me, you'd get along great with Bam," you start talking to her like a crazy woman. But you didn't mind because no one was here to make you out to be one.
"Bams my boyfriend's dog," you remark, the cat hissing as if she understood the word dog and associated it with something bad. You laugh once more. "i swear hes the nicest dog ever"
Seems enough for the cat, who leads you two to what appears to be an abandoned barn. It's still in good condition, despite looking pretty old. "This is where you live huh?" You ask, catching her gaze as you sit on some hay, which is remarkably comfortable.
The cat does nothing more than lie alongside you, having evidently entertained you enough as she closes her eyes. You grin as you continue to pet her, looking out at the open hayfield and keeping an eye on the cows who munch away on some grass or lay down. Your lips purse. "I should probably go back now," you groan, standing up and grabbing your suitcase, but not before halting abruptly as you recall something "ah."
When you open your bag, you find a small bag of treats that you always kept in there in case you went to Jungkooks and saw bam. You empty the bag on the floor and tap alongside it to get the cat's attention.
"Bye now," you say as you make your way out making sure youve got everything with you before walking straight to the hotel your mom booked nearby.
-
Jungkooks home. He realised he had to get his shit together and talk to you after his grandma basically kindly tossed him out after his second day staying there.
His grandma was right
Even if he was terrified. He had to talk tk you.
"The Jungkook I know has never been too scared to do anything," his grandma told him, and she was right.
There was not ever a single situation or challenge Jungkook had turned down. No matter how hard or impossible it seemed
He cracks his neck and knuckles when he finally sits up from his bed after being there all day. His eyes locking onto an empty spot on his arm that hasnt been inked up yet. Hed been thinking, but now was not the time to braintorm design ideas for it
Even if this situation was opening up his creative horizons. Somehow he knew that the time to fill the gap was close–hoping you'd be by his side when he got it done
He sighs, looking at the clock on his bedside table, and decides it's time to go. 6 pm. Thats when you generally finish practise, and as much as he wanted to text you first–like you'd always told him to–he decides not to.
What if you told him you never wanted to see him again?
Getting dressed–perhaps a little better today than on others–he heads straight out the door. Bam trailing him till the doors closed, a little whimper escaping his mouth. Even he could tell there was something wrong.
Due to the severe rain outside, he should have picked his car today, but he sought the thrill of his harley–the way it roared to life beneath him and gave him that last bit of confidence before he talked to you.
Even through the loud noise of his bike on the quiet streets, he could hear the rain splash against his leather jacket as he drives. He was playing a dangerous game, riding his bike at this speed on a rainy day.
But, to be honest, this was the least of his problems right now
Perhaps he should have worn a warmer jacket, and hes sure if you were here with him right now, you would have told him off the moment he walked out the door.
He smiles at the memory of the time you actually did send him home after he came to the studio on your break to hang out with you. Even if he refused to leave after your break until you were finished at first. But wait then again.
Mrs. Chuu.
Your mother.
He would have been caught anyhow. He doesn't really meet the academy's ideal. He doesnt fit in.
His lips form a scoff. He doesnt want to fit in
But then he bites his lips, and his thoughts wander again, his hands holding the bike handles tighter as he approaches his destination.
What the hell would he say? How would he begin? He dismisses the concept with a simple groan.
Once he's there and in front of you, I'll figure it out. Oh, how he longs for your touch and your hugs when he did something you liked or felt was nice, you would give him those little kisses on the cheek.
The way you always colmed your nicely done nails through his hair. And how his head fit surprisingly perfectly on your lap
His mind was racing with thoughts. But his heart was as well.
He missed your hair and how it smelled like vanilla all the time. The fact that you were the only person who could make him smile so stupidly that it was humiliating. But he enjoyed it. The pda, the ridiculous nicknames. The affection you shared. It seemed ridiculous to think that only two days ago he was too afraid to admit it. But fuck it. He loved you.
The last red light before he arrived on the road stopped him. Allowing him time to collect his thoughts. Because he knew that soon he arrived, his legs would naturally lead him to the studio where you practised.
You would be mad. He smiles as he imagines you scolding him for not warning you of his visit.
He'd promised himself that he'd be cautious when he walked in. But now that he's thinking about it, all he wants to do is walk up to you. Lift you up and kiss your–everywhere.
When the light turns green and allows him to proceed, his engine rumbles beneath him once more.
Because of the wetness of the rainy night, his leather booths and trousers glistened in the light. Somehow making him look like he was covered in glitter. A star.
-
You're very sure you're fashionably late to rehearsals, with everyone already in their assigned spots when you walk in.
Your mother is behind you, scrutinising everyone from head to toe. You smiled, you somewhat liked her give no fucks attitude, even if it was occasionally towards you. Your mother had it in her, and if there was one thing she was going to do, it was boast about you to the other mothers who were conversing in the allotted parents and family area near the stage.
You hand her your jewellery, knowing that you won't be needed for practise or the competition later, and bid her goodbye, while she only mumbles a 'good luck'.
You can tell she means well. And she will be cheering for you. Even if she hated showing it. Shes your mom after all
Before putting your phone in your bag and getting ready with the other participants, you check it one more time–and definitely not for any messages from Jungkook.
You bite your lip when the lockscreen shows no new messages.
You spot a few familiar faces among the approximately 100 participants in attendance, and you smile or say hello to several of them before you begin stretching.
Some of them compliment you on winning the last few competitions while others look you up and down the way your mom did earlier to everyone else. You dont blame them.
You were a nice person at heart, but this didnt mean youd purposefully underperform so they could win.
Competitions were fun, but you didnt come here to lose.
Mrs. Chuu usually accompanied you on these occasions. But she was still feeling under the weather, and this competition was just for funsies anyway–a distraction.
Besides, she'd already told you she needed to fix something at the studio, something along the lines of new mirror installments.
In some ways, you missed her soothing presence, but this was likely the smallest and shortest tournament you'd attended in the previous two years, so nervousness should be the last thing on your mind right now.
As you tighten the laces on your ballet flats to avoid eccidents, your sight wanders over the crowds. From women to men, tall and short, you enjoyed how everyone in here was so diverse yet shared the same passion for this sport.
You sit on the floor, sighing, watching others practise and chat while nervously biting your lip, feeling a little alone. You shouldn't. Everyone seemed pleasant, but courage is what you lacked at this time. So you wait, and you wait, and you wait. Until your name is called out
-
The pavement is as wet as Jungkook himself–he's lucky his hair is still in place, and he appears somewhat presentable. It's not like he cares what others think because he knows you'd never judge him anyway. Bit still, theres not need to look a mess.
As he approaches the entrance door, his boots hit the floor step by step, almost making him feel to be walking in slow motion.
It's strange because the parking lot is usually filled with cars–maybe it's because of the rain that people called courses off–he just hopes you arrived safely and didn't get wet or catch a cold on the way.
As he looks to the side, he adjusts his jacket, his jaline visible as he clenches it. Weird.
Usually, there is at least one guard who refuses to let anyone in who does not belong there–like Jungkook. But no ones here.
He doesn't think about it any more than he has to when his tattooed hand grips the door and opens it. The corridors are emty, and there is no one to throw him out. His luck, he thinks to himself as he navigates the corridors till he finds room 127. Your room.
It's a bit after 6, and he's hoping you haven't left yet. You shouldnt have. You generally take your time getting changed and conversing with Mrs. Chuu, assisting her in cleaning up a little before leabing.
As he reaches the last door, the doorknob is silver and neat. There is a dramatic contrast between it and him when he touches it, between clean and pretty, hes cold and rough.
He clears his throat before opening the door, his gaze fixed on the ground until he opens it. Just to discover the emty room.
You'd already left.
A sigh escapes his lips as he realises his next stop will be your house.
"Fuck"
-
The spotlight is on you, and you think you cant see everyone in front of you as the lights shine in your eyes, blinding you of your surroundings.
The spotlight, the loud music, and the attention is nothing new to you. You want to scream, escape this place, and fall into the arms of the person you thought loved you the most.
But he isn't here right now, and he may never be. So you dance, your feet hitting the floor to every beat, the choreography you'd learnt with Mrs. Chuu over the previous few weeks, fitting flawlessly as the audience applauds. And you understand it's all about you.
You are well aware of your abilities. You know you're going to win. That's all that matters, right? To win?.
The song finishes before you know it, and your ears go numb somewhere between the cheers and applause. Your feet take you backstage, where your mother is talking to you, and you nod along.
You remove your ballets and place them in your bag before putting on the shoes you came here with. You decide to undo your hair on the way back to the hotel, knowing that the results of today's event will be available online in a few days.
"You shouldnt be surprised to find your name at the top of the list in the coming days" your mom says as she rushes you out
Its nothing new. Same old same old.
People are coming to talk and praise you but you continue to walk along, not in the mood for conversation.
And you know you seem like the biggest bitch right now. But you have to put yourself first. You werent in the right mind to talk to anyone right now
You should be excited, and you typically are. But not when the person who should have been thrilled the most for you was nowhere to be found.
You want to curse at him, scream at him, and throw the stupid shirts he left at your house at him. And maybe it's a good thing you're not home right now. Perhaps it's for the best that you left.
Maybe it's a good thing he's waiting for you outside, but you're gone. Maybe it's a good thing he's hurt.
You don't want to feel like this. Tears gather in your eyes as soon as the notion of Jungkook being sad crosses your mind. You should not be thinking this right now. Even if he may have deserved it.
So you get into the car without saying anything. Your mother doesn't ask questions, she never does. She just urges the driver to get going.
Your head leans against the window, and like the raindrops that are falling down the window, tears stream down your cheeks
-
"Whats this grand entrace for?" Jungkook's head jerks around again as he hears a woman's voice, her hair grey and clearly in her fifties.
He clears his throat–he wasn't like the other guys who attended this school, therefore there was no need for him to make excuses and pretend he went here. He clearly didnt
"I was about to leave," his voice is firm, but the woman notices the disappointment in it.
"That's not what I asked, young man," the woman says, placing the towel she was using to clean the mirrors before leaving to retrieve something from the back on her shoulders, crossing her arms.
Jungkook clears his throat again, this time annoyed.
"And i said i was just about to leave." He says again, louder. His muscles bulge from behind his jacket, and his tattoos are anything but hidden.
That's when the woman's eyes widen and her lips open and close. Trying to appear unconcerned.
Jungkook looks at her, waiting for her to say anything, but when she doesn't, he scoffs and walks away. That is at least until the woman speaks up again. "Its you isnt it?"
That's it. That's all she says, and Jungkook stops in his tracks. What the fuck was going on today? Everyone irritating him to no end. "Me?" He turns around, rolling his eyes.
"The guy," she says, her voice unsteady, puzzled, and annoyed.
"Listen, lady-," Jungkook sighs.
"Mrs," she interrupts. "Not 'lady'. I'm married," she says, making him scoff. He didn't expect to hear more than 7 words from anyone today.
"Listen missus" Jungkook starts again "Im not here to talk, i was looking for someone but that person is obviously not here, so im gonna get the fuck out now-"
"Language," she interripts firmly, yet her brow furrows as she scrutinises him from head to toe, from his tattoos to his piercings to his black long hair. Except for the tattoos, everything fit pretty well to the description you gave her of him
Youd purposely not mentioned that last part
Long black hair, tall, and typically wearing black. Its him.
Again, when she doesnt speak up, he turns to leave, this time for good. But its not until hes halfway down the hallway, pack of cigs already in hand to wind down outside, that mrs. Chuu catches up to him
"Youre looking for y/n" she breathes out. And Jungkooks world clashes down.
Fuck.
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ddejavvu · 10 months
Note
eddie teaching venom about love languages <33
"Physical touch is," Eddie starts, shoulder bumped up beside yours on the couch, but Venom cuts in, head hovering over Eddie's shoulder.
"That is the one where we fuck her." Venom announces proudly, toothy grin aimed in your direction. You stifle a laugh and Eddie groans, head tosses back against the couch cushions.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's the one where we fuck her," Eddie drawls, exasperated, "But that's also, like, holding hands, kissing, that kind of stuff."
"That one is my favorite." Venom declares, "I do not care about the other ones."
"Yes you do," You counter, and Venom's milky white eyes turn to you again, "'Cause there's gift-giving. That's when I bring you chocolate. And chickens."
"I gave Eddie the gift of a decapitated man once," Venom reminisces, "But he hated it. Does that mean he does not love me?"
"That's not a gift, buddy." Eddie shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the gory memory, "That's- I mean maybe you thought that was a gift, but gifts are supposed to be nice things, like flowers or a teddy bear."
"Teddy bears are useless!" Venom roars, and you know he's only speaking out of deep-seated loathing for your own stuffed animal, which the symbiote is rather jealous of.
"I would much rather receive a head," He huffs, turning back to Eddie, "Does it mean that you do not love me because you do not give me heads to eat?"
"No," Eddie rubs a tired hand over his face, "Let's- let's just move on. Uh, words of affirmation."
"You're so handsome," You croon at Venom, who blinks as you stroke the back of your hand along his goopy cheek, "And you're a great protector, I always feel safe around you."
"See?" Eddie nods, "Just like that. Nice things you say to the person you love."
"You are very small," Venom practices, and while it's true compared to his gargantuan size, it's not much of a compliment, "And I like that you feel safe around me even though I could easily rip your head off. And eat it. You would not stand a chance."
"We'll work on it," Eddie mutters, "Alright, acts of service."
"Like when Eddie gives me a shoulder massage," You hum, stretching out the tense muscles in your neck, "Or when I wash his hair for him in the shower. That's nice things you do for the person you love."
"I am good at that!" Venom boasts, "I make you breakfast sometimes."
"Yeah," Eddie nods, voice strained, and you play along even though you know that the attending to the mess that comes with Venom's cooking is more effort than doing it yourself, "Yeah, buddy, that's good. You're right, that's really nice of you."
"I am very nice," Venom agrees, bobbing his head up and down, "Are there more?"
"Quality time-" You and Eddie speak in unison, laughing sheepishly at each other. It's Eddie that continues, "Like what we're doing now. Sitting together, talking, just hanging out and being with each other."
"When he takes me on dates, too," You chime in, your voice a soft hum, "Or when you take me around the city, big guy."
You tap at Venom's cheek and he nods, blinking once in understanding.
"I like quality time," Venom decides, the thick black ooze connecting his head to Eddie's shoulder sucking him back in until his face is nestled between yours and Eddie's. It's an odd feeling on your hair but you and Eddie hold your positions anyways, intent on drilling non-sexual physical touch into the symbiote.
"Me too," You nod, and Eddie pitches in his confirmation, "Which one is your favorite, V?"
"Mm," The symbiote hums, but it sounds more like the revving engine of a car, "I do not know. I like getting gifts, but I like sitting with you, too. I like them all."
"Too hard to choose," Eddie agrees, "You?"
"More of the same," You conclude, turning your face so that your nose nudges Venom's cheek. He purrs, not unlike a cat, sounding more engine-like than ever, and his large eyes slip shut.
"Naptime," Eddie chimes, reaching over to grab your hand in his. You smile, puckering your lips to send him a kiss that you can't press to his cheek unless you break away from Venom. He pretends to catch it where the symbiote can't see, slapping it onto his cheek and acting injured at the recoil.
"Oh," He groans while you giggle, "You throw a mean kiss."
You settle against Eddie's side, and it's odd having Venom's face in between you to where you can't rest on the man's shoulder, but he's a nice pillow in and of himself. You're only seconds away from fully drifting off to sleep when Venom's jaw moves against your face, and he whispers (terribly), "Eddie. Are you awake?"
"Yes, Venom." Eddie groans, but by the sound of his voice, he wishes he wasn't, "What do you need?"
"I decided on a favorite," Venom informs Eddie, and you listen under the guise of closed eyelids, "I like the sex one best."
You can't help it; you let out a snort.
"Nice going, V," Eddie squeezes your hand, shutting his eyes once more and attempting to get comfortable, "I'm sure that's just the answer she wanted to hear."
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disneyprincemuke · 2 months
Text
ღ this barbie’s teammate is a schumacher
notes: hello gays it is i, finally writing for barbie
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she closes the car door and sighs with a small smile, looking at the building ahead of her. this will be her life until she decides otherwise. she shoves her car keys into her purse and watches curiously as another supercar pulls into the empty lot next to her.
is that who she thinks it is?
she takes a step towards her car, watching the car be parked into the slot flawlessly. she tilts her head when it comes to a stop, the driver's side opening to reveal its driver.
"oh!" she shrieks, running around the front of her car to approach the young man. "mick schumacher, right? i am such a big fan! i'm so excited to finally be working with you!"
the german takes a step back, overwhelmed by the sudden presence of the girl in pink approaching him. she has a pair of sunglasses resting on the top of her head, a fur coat on and a purse hanging off her elbow.
"oh, hi," mick smiles politely. he's not a mean person; he's just a little more introverted than the next guy. "i'm glad to be with honda this year. i'm looking forward to spending the year with you."
he was in deep thought before she came up to him. he wondered, as the way he's been doing for years, if the rumours that he'd been scouted for the second seat at the request of his boss's daughter. but who is he to complain; he's racing in f1 again. does it matter how he got back into it?
surely not.
but this girl that stands in front of him – could she be an intern? she looks fairly young, very enthusiastic, and a glimmer of hope in her eyes that he doesn't see from individuals his age often. perhaps a marketing intern.
"alright, well, i'll see you inside! i love the sweater, by the way!" she shrieks, waving at him with a wide smile. she waves at him as she walks away, cautiously crossing the parking lot as the rest of the cars for the day start to roll in. "and the car! you have to give me a tour someday!"
he waves back at her in confusion, only able to mutter a 'goodbye' to himself as she disappears into the big front doors of the building. he locks his car and follows her in the direction she left, ready to start his new year with a new team.
he spends the next 10 minutes navigating the new factory he'll be frequenting from now on. introducing himself to people, familiarising himself with the engineers he'll be working closely with, and other members of the team. it's a surprisingly bigger team than he had initially thought, so it takes him longer than he expected.
about 20 minutes introducing himself and trying to pin names with the new faces. then he ends up in a quiet office, shaking his leg in anticipation as he awaits his first face-to-face meeting with his new teammate and his boss.
he hears clicks of heels right by the door, prompting him to sit up a little straighter as he glances behind him quickly. he straightens his sweater, pulls his sleeves down and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. he can't screw himself over.
"i'm telling you, daddy, he's got the coolest car! i saw him in the parking lot earlier!" the door opens, revealing two figures with two familiar faces. which, shouldn't be the case, because this is the first time he's meeting his teammate.
"do you want one, honey?"
"no, that's so silly! i love my car!" she giggles, before abruptly stopping at the sight of his wide blue eyes staring at her in disbelief. "my car is perfectly fine! right, mick?"
mick blinks, swallowing the forming lump of guilt in his throat. he had no idea that the girl in the parking lot was going to be his teammate eventually.
oh god, and for him to assume that she's a marketing or pr intern? how humiliating. how would he feel if someone were to think that of his sister was a mere backend worker when she is something more?
"yes," he answers by default, not really remembering what she was asking him. he immediately pushes himself up to his feet and extends a hand to her first. "i'm sorry. i don't believe i got your name in the parking lot – i didn't know you were going to be my teammate. i'm so sorry."
"oh, don't worry about it. it happens a lot." she introduces herself before quickly walking away, running over to the empty seat next to him.
mick huffs, grinning at her father before he takes a seat. but the entire time, all he can think of is how embarrassed he is for misjudging her. "you don't care that i didn't take you for a driver at first?"
she looks off blankly, pressing her lips together before shaking her head. she turns to him again. "it's not like i told you," she grins. "anyway, do you like japanese curry? that's my favourite – i'll make you some when we meet again for pre-season."
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taglist: @cashtons-wife @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @angsthology @renarots @elliegrey2803 @cha-hot @cosmoscoffeee @fanficweasley @sugarhoneylemons @aquangxl @omgsuperstarg @strawberryubin @lovecarsgoingvroom @mangotaitai @cherry-piee @ladyladybuggg @lethalvenus @gentlyweeps-world @spilled-coffee-cup @charizznorizz @wcnorris @storminacloud @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @leilanixx @daniellef89x @fezlvr @lavisenri @xcharlottemikaelsonx @ultraviolencesam @selsbackyard @ilove-tswizzle @riddle-me-im-sirius @kindestofkings
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pucksandpower · 6 months
Text
Playing Cupid
Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader
Summary: convinced that you and Max must be the most oblivious people on earth, the rest of the grid decide to take matters into their own hands
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“Hey, I bet I can beat you to the debrief room!” Max’s voice carries through the paddock, his familiar smile in place.
You roll your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. “You always say that and yet here we are.”
He chuckles, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face, “Optimism, it’s just part of my charm.”
“You mean your delusion?” You tease, nudging him with your elbow.
There’s a pause as you both make your way, the chatter of crew members a steady background hum as Max’s laughter and your shared jokes create a bubble around the two of you.
“You two are like the dynamic duo of Red Bull,” Daniel pipes up from where he’s leaning against the wall with his signature grin stretching across his face. “Batman and Robin vibes.”
You glance at Max, raising an eyebrow. “Batman and Robin? More like Tom and Jerry.”
Max snorts. “Which one am I?”
“Definitely Tom. Always chasing but never quite catching up.” You stick out your tongue playfully.
Daniel shakes his head with a laugh, “The chemistry though! It’s electric. The entire grid sees it.”
You look puzzled, glancing at Max whose face mirrors your own. “What are you on about, Danny?”
Before he can reply, Max’s race engineer joins in, “He’s not wrong. It’s like watching two magnets circle each other, not knowing they’re meant to connect.”
Max shrugs, looking slightly embarrassed at GP’s observation, “We’re just good friends. Teammates. That’s all.”
You nod in agreement. “Exactly! Just because we joke around doesn’t mean—”
“—there’s anything more,” Max finishes for you, the two of you so in sync it makes GP and Daniel exchange amused glances.
“Whatever you say,” GP chuckles.
The day wears on, filled with the usual press conferences, race strategies, and banter. But now, there’s an underlying hum, a question that seems to have spread among the drivers and teams: what if?
In the evening, as you’re about to make your way back to the hotel, Lewis sidles up to you. “You and Max, huh? That’s something. The fans will love it.”
You blink in surprise. “We’re just teammates. That’s all.”
He winks. “For now.”
You just laugh it off, not sure how to respond.
Later that night, you and Max find yourselves in a private corner of your hotel restaurant, both tired but satisfied. “Did Lewis say something weird to you too?” Max asks, sipping his drink.
You nod. “About us. I mean, we’re close, but all this talk ... it’s a bit strange, right?”
He sighs, “Yeah. Just because two people get along doesn’t mean they’re ... you know, together together.”
You chuckle. “Exactly. We’re friends. Best friends. That’s all.”
***
“Truth or dare!” The booming voice with an enthusiastic Australian accent echoes across the lounge where a few of the drivers have gathered post-qualifying, hoping to unwind.
Max groans from beside you. “Do we have to? Every time it ends up embarrassing at least one of us.”
You nudge him, laughing. “Oh, come on. Scared of a little dare, Verstappen?”
Daniel’s eyes gleam with mischief. “Exactly. What are you so afraid of, Maxie? Maybe revealing a certain ... secret?”
Lando, lounging on a sofa, chips in, “Or maybe singing a serenade for a certain someone?”
Max’s cheeks turn a shade redder while you feel your own face heat up. “I think Danny and Lando are in cahoots,” you whisper to Max, who chuckles in agreement.
“Alright, alright,” Max concedes, “Truth or dare. Bring it on.”
Daniel’s smile widens even further, a clear sign that he’s up to no good. “Okay, Max. Truth or dare?”
Max hesitates for a split second. “Dare.”
Daniel rubs his hands together with a surprisingly convincing evil smirk. “I dare you to serenade ...” He deliberately drags out the suspense, glancing around the room before pointing directly at you, “... your lovely teammate here.”
The room erupts into laughter and teasing. “Oh, this is going to be good!”
Max looks at you apologetically but there’s a playful glint in his eye. “Alright, alright. What song?”
You shake your head, already giggling in anticipation of what is to come. “Surprise me.”
Gathering courage, Max stands up, clearing his throat dramatically. He looks right into your eyes, a playful glint in his, and starts singing “I Want It That Way” … mostly.
“Tell me why … I keep crashing into walls. Tell me why … I can’t seem to win them all. Tell me why … I never want to hear you say, box box box box box.”
You laugh so hard that tears stream down your face. The room is filled with laughter, claps, and a few playful boos (mostly from Charles who seem partially traumatized by the mention of boxing).
“That’s officially the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your words.
Max takes a bow, still red-faced. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”
As the night winds down and the group starts to disperse, Daniel sidles up to you. “Soooooo …. did the serenade work?”
You laugh, “It was entertaining, to say the least. But Max and I ...” You trail off, not sure how to put your relationship into words.
“It’s alright,” Daniel nods understandingly and for a moment you actually think he might stop scheming to get the two of you together. But then he winks, “Sometimes the best things take time.”
***
“Formula 1 is as much about connections off the track as it is on,” Lewis begins, his voice smooth, measured, a practiced art in front of the cameras during the press conference. Flashbulbs click and reporters scribble notes. “Sometimes those connections are ... more than what meets the eye. Wouldn’t you agree?”
You raise an eyebrow. Next to you, Max shuffles slightly awkwardly.
Before you can answer, Lewis continues, eyes glinting with mischief, “For instance, teams with two drivers who might be ... more than just teammates?” His gaze flits subtly between you and Max, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.
Max laughs it off. “Talking about you and George? Or was it back with Nico?”
A ripple of laughter flows through the conference room and you bite back a smile, appreciating Max’s deflection.
Lewis grins, completely unfazed. “Good one. But no, I’ve heard some rumors about another team ... one that rhymes with Bed Rull, perhaps?”
Now you feel the need to intervene, “Rumors are just that, Lewis. Rumors. Max and I are teammates, good friends. Nothing more.” You keep your voice light but firm.
“But isn’t it interesting,” Lewis ponders aloud, “how two people can spend so much time together, share so many experiences, practically think with the same brain, and still not notice a ... deeper connection?”
Max’s eyes meet yours briefly, a momentary search for an answer, a reaction perhaps. But as quick as the look is, it’s gone.
After finishing up with media, Charles shoots a dimpled smile your way. “Quite the interview by Lewis, huh? He’s not usually one for gossip.”
You laugh. “Trying to stir the pot, I guess. Maybe he’s bored? Everyone loves a good love story.”
Charles nods, his gaze a bit more serious. “But sometimes … sometimes rumors are built on a foundation of truth. Even if you don’t see it.”
You mull over his words but before you can respond, Max joins the conversation. “Is everyone becoming a relationship expert these days or something?”
Charles just shrugs with an impish grin. “Maybe we all just want to see our friends happy.”
The comment gives you pause. Is that all this is? Friendly teasing? Or is there something more you’re missing? Something right in front of you that you’re not seeing?
But for now, as you and Max head back towards the Red Bull motorhome, you push those thoughts aside, determined to focus on the upcoming race and the challenge it presents.
***
“Fancy seeing you here!” Your team principal greets you, his tone feigning surprise as you walk into the upscale restaurant.
Max squints at him suspiciously. “You invited us both here, Christian.”
“Yes, a lovely team dinner. Just the three of us,” Christian confirms with an overly innocent smile as he guides you both to a table by the window.
The setting is intimate, with soft lighting and plush seating. A live harpist is serenading diners. It’s definitely not your typical “team dinner.”
“Christian,” you muse aloud, “this place looks a tad extravagant for a casual dinner, does it not?”
He shrugs, a smile still in place. “Consider it a treat for the team’s recent successes.”
Before you can continue your line of questioning, a waiter approaches to take your orders. You and Max share a conspiratorial glance.
“I’ll have the lobster bisque to start. With extra lobster,” Max begins, deciding to indulge.
“I’ll take the osetra caviar. You can bring the entire tin. With extra blini,” you add, grinning as you see Christian’s eyes widen.
Christian clears his throat. “Well, I actually just remembered an urgent call I have to take. Enjoy the meal, you two.” And with that, he hurries away, leaving you both chuckling.
Max leans in with a whisper, “Do you think he’s up to something?”
“Absolutely. Let’s make him pay ... literally. He did say it’s on him.”
Safe to say that you both enjoy the finest dishes the restaurant has to offer. “At this rate,” you joke as the waiter opens your second bottle of ridiculously expensive wine, “Red Bull is going to break the budget cap because of catering. Again.”
Throughout the meal, you and Max discuss the recent upgrades to your cars, dissecting each detail with genuine interest and passion. The conversation flows easily but is entirely centered on racing.
Unbeknownst to you both, scattered around the restaurant are various team members and drivers in disguises, watching your every move. From Daniel donning a fake mustache as he pretends to be a waiter to Yuki wearing a chef’s hat peeking out of the kitchen, they’re all there and all invested in the outcome of the evening.
From his spot behind the bar, Lando, sporting a terrible wig, groans. “They’re just talking about tire degradation! This is so frustrating.”
Charles, disguised as a saxophonist with a carefully trimmed goatee, chimes in, “I thought this would be it. This setting is perfect.”
Back at your table, you raise your glass. “To another successful season and having amazing teammates.”
Max clinks his glass against yours, laughing. “Cheers to that!”
As you leave, completely oblivious to your undercover audience, the collective sigh of exasperation from the team members is almost audible even over the live music.
***
“What’s this?” You lift the elegantly wrapped package from your locker, examining the tag which reads: From Fernando - Enjoy the relaxation.
Max, peering over your shoulder, also pulls out a similar package from his locker. “Looks like we both got gifts.”
Ripping open the delicate paper, you pull out a luxurious pamphlet. The cover boasts a serene image of a spa, complete with candle-lit rooms and peaceful landscapes. Max’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s got the same one.
“A couples spa retreat?” Max reads aloud, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Really?”
Fernando, passing by at that exact moment, grins cheekily. “Thought you two could use some relaxation and a day off the track.”
“Very thoughtful of you,” you reply, peering up at him skeptically, “But why a couples retreat?”
Fernando shrugs, the picture of innocence. “It had the best reviews. Just trying to be a good friend.”
Max laughs, rolling his eyes. “Well, thanks for the ... thoughtful gift. Might as well use it.”
And so, you find yourself at the spa, wrapped in plush robes as the gentle hum of soft music and flowing water fills the air.
Max, his feet soaking in a warm tub and a clay mask setting on his face, looks over at you. “You think this was another one of their schemes to get us together?”
You laugh, dipping your toes into the fragrant water. “At this point, nothing would surprise me.”
The day goes on with various treatments — massages, scrubs, and mud baths. But instead of talking about personal lives or diving deep into emotions, you both end up discussing the possible benefits of the treatments.
“You know,” Max muses as he receives a deep tissue massage, “this technique might help with muscle fatigue after long races.”
You, getting a foot massage, nod in agreement. “Absolutely. And the mud bath we took earlier? Might help with detoxifying after particularly sweaty race weekends.”
The spa therapists, used to couples sharing intimate moments, are clearly bemused by your discussions.
Later, as you both relax in the sauna, Fernando sneaks a peek through a small window, hoping to catch a romantic moment. But to his chagrin, he finds you both animatedly discussing the aerodynamics of your cars.
“Did you notice the slight drag on the left during the last turn?” You ask, wiping away sweat.
Max nods. “I’ve been meaning to bring that up. We need to discuss that with the team.”
Fernando sighs, leaning against the wall outside the sauna. “They’re hopeless,” he mutters to himself.
He approaches you both later, looking slightly defeated. “So, the spa day? Did it perhaps help ... bring you two closer?”
You smile, patting him on the shoulder. “It was amazing for our driving techniques. Thanks, Fernando.”
Max nods in agreement, “Best spa day ever. We’re thinking of making it a regular thing.”
Fernando groans, realizing that his plan, like all the others, has somehow backfired. “I give up. You two are impossible.”
***
“Beach volleyball? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, looking at the makeshift court that Lando and George have set up on the sand.
George grins, passing a volleyball between his hands. “Thought it’d be a fun way to unwind. And we’ve set the teams so it’s fair and ... interesting.”
Lando winks. “You and Y/N are paired up, of course. We thought you two could use some quality time together.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the smirk that forms on your lips. “Let me guess, another one of your schemes to play matchmaker?”
Lando feigns shock. “Us? We would never.”
You laugh, pulling Max towards your side of the makeshift court. “Alright then, let’s do this. Prepare to be schooled, boys.”
What was meant to be a friendly match quickly turns intense. Max and you make a formidable team. The chemistry on the track seamlessly transitions to the sand, both of you equally competitive and always anticipating the other’s next moves.
“I didn’t know you two were this good!” George pants, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.
You wink at him, taking your position. “There’s a lot you don’t know about us.”
Neither you nor Max are willing to give an inch. Diving saves, powerful spikes, and clever feints — you both are in it to win it.
Lando, gasping and covered in sand, mutters to George, “This was supposed to be fun. Not an Olympic match.”
The final point arrives, with you and Max at an advantage. Lando, attempting a weak serve, sends the ball perfectly to you. With a powerful run-up, you spike the ball back directly towards him. It’s fast, precise, and ... it ends up hitting Lando square in his balls.
He collapses on the hot sand, groaning. The surrounding crowd winces empathetically but you and Max? You both burst into uncontrollable laughter, falling to your knees for an entirely different reason.
“Lando!” George rushes to his side, a mix of concern and amusement on his face.
Still on the ground, Lando whines, “There go my chances of ever having kids.”
Max, between fits of laughter, manages to say, “Sorry, mate. But that was ... epic.”
You nod in agreement, offering Lando a hand. “Next time, be prepared if you’re going to challenge us. We don’t do things by halves.”
Lando takes your hand to pull himself up. “Noted. No more volleyball with you two.”
***
“Whoa,” Max blinks, staring at his phone screen. “Did you just text me?”
You frown, looking up from your own phone. “No, why?”
He shows you the screen where a message pops up, supposedly from you:
I’ve been meaning to tell you
I think I have feelings for you
Your eyes widen in shock. “I definitely didn’t send that. Wait …” You check your phone, finding a similar message supposedly from Max:
Ever since we became teammates, I’ve felt something more
Do you feel the same?
Confused, you show Max the message. The two of you exchange bewildered glances. “What is happening?” He asks, genuinely perplexed.
You shake your head. “Someone must think it’s funny to play a game with us.”
From a distance, behind the pit wall, Pierre Gasly is trying hard to suppress his laughter, watching the two of you. He nudges Charles who is next to him. “Do you think they bought it?”
Charles grins, “Knowing those two, they will probably figure it out. But it was worth the shot.”
Back at your spot, Max raises an eyebrow, “Did you by any chance get a new number recently?”
You nod. “Yeah, last week. Remember I gave it to you when we flew in? But only the team and our friends have it. Who would pull such a prank?”
Max smirks, “I have a few suspects in mind.”
You both decide to play along, typing away furiously. Max’s smirk grows wider with every passing second. “Let’s see how much our prankster likes the cards being reversed.”
Minutes later, Pierre’s phone buzzes. It’s a message from Max:
I’m so relieved you feel the same
How about dinner tonight?
Somewhere private?
Pierre’s eyes widen in surprise. He quickly checks your supposed response:
Of course I do!
Can’t believe we waited this long to admit our feelings
See you tonight? Let’s meet in the lobby for drinks and maybe dessert if you’re lucky ❤️
Pierre gulps, shooting a panicked look at Charles. “I think I’ve made a huge mistake.”
Charles snickers. “Oh, this is going to be good.”
Later in the day, Pierre approaches with guilt basically stamped across his forehead. “Look, about the texts you got …”
You grin. “Figured it out, did you?”
Max chuckles, clapping Pierre on the back. “Nice try but despite what you may think, we’re not complete idiots. ”
Pierre sighs in relief. “Honestly, I thought I might have ignited something real for a moment there.”
You laugh, “I would hope any grand confession of love I receive happens through something other than sneaky texts.”
Pierre nods, smiling sheepishly. “Fair enough. But hey, if you ever do decide to go for a romantic dinner, let me know. It’s on me.”
Max grins, “Deal.”
***
The paddock is transformed. A massive screen is set up, loungers and bean bags are spread around, and fairy lights dangle from above as a large screen and projector take center stage.
“Rom-coms?” Max squints at the list Charles is holding, a collection of the cheesiest, most cliche romantic movies available.
Charles grins, unashamed. “Best way to set the mood, right?”
You laugh, “Still trying to make Lestappen happen?”
Charles blushes. “That was one time! Besides, I have moved on to more ... realistic goals.”
Lando pops up from behind a popcorn stand, “Like getting you two to finally see what’s right in front of you.”
You roll your eyes, playfully pelting a handful of popcorn at his head. “Enough with the matchmaking.”
The movie starts and it’s clear that every spot has been strategically taken, leaving just one chair available. Daniel points to your teammate with a deceivingly innocent expression, “Why don’t you sit on Max’s lap? Save space.”
Max doesn’t miss a beat. “Or you could give up your seat and come sit on my lap yourself.”
The surrounding drivers erupt in laughter as Daniel smiles widely, conceding the point. You both end up squeezing into the chair somehow.
As the movie plays, instead of getting swept up in the romance, you both start dissecting it.
“Why would she run in the rain after him? That’s just asking for pneumonia,” Max comments as the heroine dashes through a downpour.
You nod in agreement, “And those heels? Totally impractical. She should have changed into boots.”
Charles groans, burying his face in his hands. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”
George pats his hair sympathetically, “You tried. That’s what matters.”
As the movie reaches its climax with a grand chase through the airport, you muse, “You know, airports have strict security. How did he even get to the gate without a boarding pass?”
Max nods, “And the plane? Totally off. They used the wrong model. That one can’t fly long-haul.”
Charles jumps up in exasperation. “That’s it! No more movies. You two are ridiculous.”
You grin, throwing an arm around Max. “Oh, come on. Admit it … you love us.”
Max chuckles, “Thanks for the movie night. Learned a lot about airport logistics and practical footwear.”
Charles sighs but a smile tugs at his lips. “We’re really not being paid enough for this.”
***
“Team-building exercise?” Max echoes. Both of you are seated in Christian’s office, a mysterious smile playing on the team principal’s lips.
Christian nods, gesturing to the woman beside him. “This is Dr. Amelia Foster, a top relationship expert.”
You exchange a hesitant glance with Max. “Relationship expert? But we’re not a couple.”
Dr. Foster chuckles, adjusting her glasses. “I’m not here for romantic purposes. I help partners of all kinds communicate better. Even teammates.”
Max leans forward. “So, what’s the plan?”
Christian clears his throat. “A simple session. See if there’s any room for improvement in your communication. I mean, you two are already a great team. Imagine if you were even better?”
Dr. Foster nods, opening her notebook. “Let’s start with a basic exercise. Max, describe how you feel when Y/N makes a risky move.”
Max thinks for a moment. “Concerned, I guess. I trust her skills but I also worry about her safety.”
You smile, touched. “And I feel proud when Max nails a difficult maneuver. He has an instinct during races that is unmatched.”
The session continues, delving into how you view each other’s strengths, weaknesses, and driving styles. As the conversation flows, Dr. Foster introduces various communication techniques.
“Now, let’s practice active listening,” she suggests. “Y/N, tell Max something, and Max, you’ll repeat it back in your own words.”
You nod. “Alright. Sometimes, when we’re racing side by side, I wish you would give me a tiny bit more space.”
Max considers then responds, “You’d like me to be a bit more cautious and ensure you have enough room during close races.”
Dr. Foster claps her hands. “Excellent! See? It’s about mutually understanding and validating each other’s perspectives.”
By the end of the session, both of you are genuinely engrossed in the exercises, seeing the potential benefits for your on-track dynamic.
As you both leave, Max turns to you, excitement in his eyes. “That technique where we visualize the other’s perspective? That could be a game-changer during races!”
You nod in agreement. “Absolutely! And the active listening can help during debriefs. Ensure we’re always on the same page.”
Christian, waiting outside, is initially hopeful upon seeing your animated discussion. “So, did the two of you ... connect?”
Max grins, “Oh, we did! I think our communication on the track is going to be better than ever.”
Christian sighs, realizing his matchmaking attempt has gone astray once again. “Not quite what I had in mind but I’ll take it for now.”
***
“I swear, rain at a race weekend is the universe’s way of telling us to slow down,” you quip, leaning back in your chair as the rain pours outside.
Max chuckles from his seat next to you. “Or it’s just weather. But I prefer your explanation.”
The sound of the rain has already lulled a group of mechanics to sleep. There’s an unexpected calm with the usual bustle of the race on hold.
You pull out your phone, browsing your music. “Let’s trade favorite songs. Bet I can surprise you with my taste.”
Max opens his own music app. “Challenge accepted.”
You play an indie track that has become your recent favorite. Max listens thoughtfully, “Never pegged you for an indie fan.”
You shrug, “Life’s full of surprises. Your turn.”
He selects a familiar classic rock track that makes you grin. “Bohemian Rhapsody? Really?”
He smirks, “Told you, surprises.”
“I’m mostly just surprised it’s not 33 Max Verstappen,” you tease.
As the afternoon stretches on, the music transitions to shared stories. You talk about your childhood, the early days of karting, the struggles, and triumphs. He shares his own tales, moments that shaped him, the highs and lows of his journey.
“Remember our first race as teammates?” He asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.
You laugh, “How could I forget? You almost ran me off the track.”
He chuckles, “Defensive driving. But you held your ground. Earned my respect that day.”
“And you earned mine,” you reminisce. “Not just as a driver but as a person.”
The atmosphere shifts, the mood turning contemplative. The stories become more personal, more intimate. You share your fears, dreams, and hopes. The raw honesty of the moment creates a bridge, a connection neither of you realized was missing.
Max looks at you, his gaze intense. “You know, despite all the teasing from the others, the setups, and the jokes, I never stopped to really see ... us.”
You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I’ve been so focused on the track, on our partnership as teammates, that I never paused to consider the possibility of ... something more.”
He reaches out to gently take your hand, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “Maybe it’s time we did.”
You look into his eyes, seeing your own emotions reflected back, and smile. “Maybe it is.”
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening as you both step onto the podium. The last race had been intense, with both of you claiming the top spots. Max, in first, and you, a close second. The excitement is contagious, the air electric.
Max turns to you, the gleam of victory in his eyes mirrored by another emotion that has been growing since that rainy day. Without another word, he pulls you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like a victory all on its own.
The crowd goes wild, cheering and whistling. But what draws your attention as you pull away, breathless, is the reaction of the grid below.
Lando jumps up, punching the air. “Yes!”
Charles grins, clapping his hands together. “Told you it’d happen on the podium!”
Daniel, laughing, shouts, “Pay up, everyone! I had this race in the betting pool.”
Confused, you turn to Max, who shrugs, just as out of the loop.
Later, as the celebrations continue, Pierre pulls you both aside, showing a clip on his phone. It’s a video from a few months ago, all the drivers and Christian huddled together, placing bets on a whiteboard labeled When Will Max and Y/N Finally Stop Being Blind?
You laugh, watching the clip. “Of course you all managed to turn our love life into a game.”
Max wraps an arm around you. “Well, they do say racing is all about strategy and timing.”
Lando approaches with a pout. “You couldn’t wait a bit longer? I was two races off.”
Daniel, counting his winnings, smirks. “Better luck next time.”
Christian shakes his head with a laugh but pulls both of you in for a hug. “Never thought I’d be so happy to lose 50 quid. Congrats, you two.”
Surrounded by the people who spent most of the season trying to make this happen, you realize that love, like racing, has its own unpredictable course. Because sometimes, the best races aren’t on the track. They’re the ones that lead to unexpected, beautiful destinations.
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astonmartingf · 11 days
Text
VOODOO DOLL ; LH44
lewis hamilton x mercedes driver!reader
. . . hamilton is a penchant for opposing teammates, and after the previous one he somehow got stuck with another, but after years of dominance new emotions develop between the two.
amgf i am a sucker for yearning and fluff and this is exactly that, lewis the man that you are... also if the format is different from previous posts it's because i'm testing out formats
death of a bachelor ; masterlist
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[2025]
“You called us for this?” Alonso raised his brows looking pitifully at you sharing the same expression as Nico from the left side. You groan in your palms, hiding your face from the two men.
“This is a big deal okay. Why are you invalidating my feelings?” Mumbling under your breath, you reason out hoping for a sliver of understanding. It’s been so long since you bottled your feelings, and as much as you hate to admit it, you might start-
“No one is invalidating your feelings other than yourself amor, otherwise why would you call us to convince you that you actually like-”
“Okay, okay, okay. Shut up will you, it’s like you want the whole world that I like…” You turn around, checking the surroundings. “Lewis.”
Nico pressed his lip into a thin, a short sigh leaving his mouth, “You’re in denial and in love.”
You shot Nico an incredulous look, a scoff escaping your lips, “I am not in love. Alo, tell him.”
The older Spaniard grimaced, shaking his head. “At this point, you may as well be- four years? He’s already moved to Ferrari for God’s sake and you have yet to make a move.”
You groan once more, reminding yourself of the signs and signals you missed or accidentally dropped towards Lewis. “I have made a few moves…” Your voice thinning as you feel two pairs of eyes staring right at you.
“And I’m embarrassed to say that they also flew over Lewis’ head. So no, don’t ask me what I said, or did- just ignore what I said.” You rest your head down on the table, sad and moping.
Nico laughs at you, “Look at the state of you, hung over a boy.”
“He’s not just any boy Nico, gosh you’re acting like you moved on quickly from him- this is Lewis we’re talking about. Heck that was a semi-platonic relationship you had going on there, how am I supposed to cope with actually knowing that I can’t be in a romantic relationship with him?”
A gasp left your lips, hands shaking as your cover over them. Avoiding Nico’s gaze who was still laughing at you, despite your jab at his relationship with Nico and Alonso who took a sip from his cup of tea.
“So you admit it…”
Alonso broke the silence leaving you nodding to yourself.
“I actually- Fuck.”
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[2023]
Lewis sits in silence, watching Nico squint his eyes from the other side of the table. “When was this?”
Gulping, Lewis didn’t think this far. He was ranting first, and then eventually spilling in some white lies in between before Nico filled in and connected the dots. He should’ve known Nico would catch on- Lewis is being too obvious. At least that’s what he thinks.
Sighing, Lewis mulled over his thoughts gathering his words before speaking it out into existence. The three words he’s been replaying over his head for the last two years- When did things get complicated?
“Two years ago? I thought about it far longer than I’ll admit. But I’ve recently come into terms with it…” Lewis nods his head, sitting in silence with Nico.
“And what happened? What’s different?”
Smiling to himself at the thought of you, Lewis goes through all the times you’ve managed to tug the tiniest of his heartstrings causing him to malfunction like the current state of their engine. It was pitiful, not just the team, but the state of his heart.
“I don’t even understand… Which makes me even more furious! How could she do that to me? I think about her all the time, she’s not even racing anymore. She’s nowhere near me, yet she’s all I think about, it’s driving me insane. And don’t get me started on whenever she’s actually on the paddock- I see her what? Once a month, I go to the F1 Academy races to get a glimpse of her. I'm such a loser. And her face! How could I not stop by and greet her, she’s always enthusiastic whenever I’m there- Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty good company, and we are friends but God I wish she’d take in the signs I’m putting down. I like YN- too much at this point, I can’t believe it. And you! You’re laughing at my misery.”
Lewis raises his head, far too into his thoughts only realizing that Nico has been laughing at him for the past minute. His back flushed into the seat, legs crossed with arms resting on the table.
“At least one of us is enjoying this, because I’m a suffering loser, who can’t get a grip. She’s actually doing things to my mind. I’m acting crazy because of her.”
Nico bursts into laughter, “You’re- you have a lot to say about YN.”
Lewis scoffs, giving his friend a pointed look, “That’s all you have to say? Wow, I miss talking to you, but this- this is a personal attack towards me.”
Shaking his head, Nico wheezes at Lewis, “No, no, no… Think about it- look at you. It’s just funny to me, I remember when you first talked about her. You said, and I quote, “I will never like her as a teammate.” and you also compared her to me. Look at you now. I think it’s funny.”
Lewis shakes his head, disappointed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it.”
“No- you’re not taking all that back. Go on- tell me more.”
Lewis raises his brows suspiciously, “What? So you can tease me?”
Nico raises his hands in surrender, “Hey if not me who else would listen to you talk on and on about YN?”
“I know Seb would listen to me without judgment, and maybe Charles…” Lewis lists the few people in and out the grid who are aware about his feelings towards YN.
Nico raises his brows laughing to himself, “Oh Lewis, you truly are living in your own bubble- you’re too good for yourself. Guess how I know what you’ve been talking to Seb about? Right, he calls me to check on you.”
Lewis pales at the realization, how Nico is somehow always available, how he calls on the right time.
“And Charles, who calls Seb, who calls me. Right Lewis, there’s three of us- and you’ll always end up with me if you don’t get your act right.”
lewishamilton
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liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc, and 21,582,953 others
lewishamilton me when my crush finally noticed me...
view 1,648,592 comments...
user1 EXCUSE NE? WHAT HAPPENED TO HELLO AND HI?
user2 am i seeing this right?
user3 the power of yn
user4 why would you assume it's yn?
user5 i mean who else could get lewis to post like this?
user6 bro got 21 million people watching this confession
nicorosberg this is what you got from our conversation two years ago? embarrassing, even i can do better than this
sebastianvettel5 he's trying, leave him be
charles_leclerc is this what we've been waiting for the last four years? the bar is actually low
user7 what do you mean 4 years?
user8 HELP, they're actually implying that this is for YN
user9 there goes the lewyn fans going crazy it could be anyone 🙄
user10 can't a girl have their fun, jeez leave people alone
user11 it's embarrasing
user12 they're actually eating lewis up with this
nicorosberg this is your plan?
lewishamilton yeah, it's working is it not?
nicorosberg i don't think so man
charles_leclerc is she even on instagram?
lewishamilton ...
sebastianvettel5 for someone who has a crush on this person for the last 4 years i might add this is actually embarrassing behavior
user13 what is happening?
user14 i love this too much what the heck
user15 i know they're grilling him in the messages
user16 another one for the history books 😤✍️🔥🔥🔥
user17 it's blow after blow for hamilton
user18 he's a loser in love actually, does it make you stupid?
lewishamilton i don't care if i look stupid i want her to see this
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amgf ahahahahaha the end! uhm... enjoy 👍 this actually had me giggling and shit wtf, maybe it's lewis maybe it's the fluff but /sighs/ the lore i can add to this fic... just you wait 😤
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 month
Note
Ooooh girl I am here for Seb/Charles/Reader
Ok so like if you were with Seb first when they were at Ferrari and you both took care of baby Charlie. And everyone is like "aww they're like his mom and dad" but Charles is like "please god I want them to cherish me forever in the most romantic way"
And it shifts when Seb goes to Aston Martin. Like, you're all seeking each other out purposefully to spend time together more and more. And slowly you and Seb are like "...oh. oh no. We love him so much. And he might love us too?" Because you both always had a little crush on him but thought it would go away
And then being together and Seb worships both his loves and Charles is so soft and lowkey obsessed (in a healthy way)
A/N: Through the years
Charles meeting you for the first time driving for Alfa:
"Hi, I'm Y/n," Charles blushes, seeing the pretty older woman before him as Sebastian stands behind you talking to Kimi. "Charles," He mumbles and shakes your hand. "So you're going to be Sebby's new teammate next year hm?" You move sitting down next to him and Charles moves over, as your knees knocked into each other.
"Yeah, seems like it," Charles blushes and notices the way that Kimi and Seb were watching you two. "Well I'm excited, Kimi has been a bore for a while," "Heard that," Kimi snarks but you just giggle and turn back to Charles. "If you ever need anything, you're more than welcome to come to Sebby's and I place in Maranello." Charles sinks into his seat and nods his head loving the attention you're giving him.
Charles First Season:
Charles noticed you and runs up behind you and hugs you tightly. "Y/n!" You giggle and place your hands over his, patting his hands. "Hi my baby," Charles smiles sweetly at the nickname as you turn around in his arms and pull him closer. "Ah, have you eaten?" Sebastian pops up beside Charles ruffling his hair.
"Yeah, had toast and some eggs." You smile glad to hear that he had eaten something as you knew Charles was always nervous since joining Ferrari. "They act like his parents," One of the engineers whispers in passing. You giggle at the comment but Charles shys away, but Sebastian doesn't let him.
His arm was wrapped around Charles waist and you knew the boy wasn't going to move away from Sebastian. Charles couldn't help that this would never leave, he wanted both of you more than he knew.
Charles winning Monza:
Sebastian couldn't even care that he DNFed all he wanted to do was to pull Charles into a huge hug and tell the younger driver how well he did. "Charles!" You scream, dragging Sebastian as you see the champagne soaked Ferrari driver turn around dropping the bottle and trophy.
"I WON!' "You won!" You both shouted, Sebastian let you hug the boy, but he gently pried you two apart and hugged Charles close, hand on his waist and the other on the back of his neck before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'm so fucking proud of you," He whispers and you get distracted by friends but kept a close eye on the way Charles and Sebastian were wrapped around each other.
Sebastian leaving Ferrari:
"You're really leaving?" Charles sniffled standing at the front door of your and Sebastian's apartment in Monaco. "Charl," Sebastian reached out but Charles just stepped back, slapping his hand down. "Am I not good enough?" Charles barked, you sit up in bed wondering who could possibly be here so late at night.
"Charles, I'm not leaving because of you," Sebastian begs, reaching for the boy again but he refuses to let Sebastian touch him. "I wouldn't blame you, you probably hate me," Charles cried, wiping his tears. "Charles? Baby what's wrong?" You peak around your husbands back and Charles just breaks seeing you. "Don't leave me," Charles sobs and moves collapsing into your arms.
Seb doesn't think twice and moves hugging you both and dropping to the floor. "We're not leaving you baby bot, I promise." Sebastian whispers.
Aston Martin:
You sighed heavily sitting in the Aston Martin garage, wanting nothing more than to walk over to Ferrari and cuddle up to Charles. It was early before the race and you knew the drivers would all be resting. You just wanted nothing more than to have him in your arms. "What are you doing?" Sebastian whispered, looking up from his phone where he lie.
"I can't get comfortable, I just want Charles with us," You pout hating not having him next to you. Sebastian smiles at you, moving his hand through your hair and squeezes your neck. "I know, I'm used to him sleeping on my lap and now he's not here. It's weird," He mumbles and you smile at how adorable the two always looked.
They would tend to fall asleep on each other and then rest their heads in your lap, but now Charles wasn't allowed to see you often as Ferrari and Seb didn't leave on good terms. "Screw this, I'm going to find Charles," Sebastian grumbles, standing up.
"Sebby, our feelings aren't going to change are they?" You whisper the question which has your husband freezing. "No," He sighs and throws his body back into the seat and drops his head. "We need to tell him," You whisper which has Seb nodding his head in agreement.
A knock at the door has you and Sebastian sharing a look wondering who that could be. Standing, your husband answers the door. "Sebby," A flash of red fills both your views as a body collides into Sebastian. Chuckling at the familiar weight in his arms, Seb takes steps back until they're on the couch.
Charles doesn't hesitate and crawls onto Sebastian lap and looks over at you, reaching his hand out for you to join. Moving over Charles wraps his arm around you and sighs, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. "I don't like you two not being there," He whispers, even if he liked Carlos he wasn't you or Sebastian.
"We're not going anywhere," You whisper, and some how Sebastian understood what you meant.
Dating:
"Charles," You sigh hearing the familiar sound of a camera click as Sebastian zipped up your dress. You both turn and see your giddy boyfriend dressed in a nice suit and holding his phone. "What? You two look very....very good," He mumbles and you see a tint of red on his cheeks and eyes zone out.
"Charlie," You call which has him snapping back and he blinks away whatever he was thinking. "Can we skip? Really can we?" He asks, licking his lips as you add the earrings, Charles coming up behind you and giving you a hug, kissing your shoulder.
"No really? Can we skip, cause I'd rather just stay in bed and maybe," "Charles, this is an important event, and we're going." Sebastian pulls him off, giving him a quick kiss on the lips which has Charles chasing him. "Hmph, please just want to stay in bed with you two." He mumbles but you chuckle and turn around.
"How about, if you're good for us, we'll let you do that thing," You offer, Charles head whips around and face lighting up and he opens his mouth but Sebastian covers it with his hand. "No, I'm serious Charles, behave." Charles swallows and nods his head and you move fixing his tie before patting it down.
"Alright, let's go." You whisper, feeling the tension grow between you three. Maybe going tonight wasn't going to wise.
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bellarkeselection · 4 months
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Walter to the Rescue
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Gif not mine it belongs to @alphinias
After a ride in the woods late at night you wind up getting lost and to the readers surprise Cole actually answers your call.
Tag list - @cognacdelights
Kicking my horse in the belly to go faster with the wind running through my hair that I left completely loose. This wasn’t the first time I had taken one of the Walter family's horses to clear my head from a day of high school. It all could be a lot especially when everyone in this town knows you have a close family relationship with the Walter kids. Because it only results in half the school thinking you're sleeping with some of them. “Woah boy. Easy now.”
My horse begins making some noise in protest hearing some thunder off in the distance. I knew that horses could get spooked easy but I wasn't too worried about it. Alex had taught me how to keep your cool on them. Looking around at the treeline the leaves have already begun changing colors making it really beautiful. “Ah!” I screamed suddenly when lighting hit the ground in front of me and that caused my horse to whine and throw me off its back.
“Ow! No wait…” I called out to my horse but he was already far off into the treeline. Running a hand through my hair I sighed seeing that the sky was getting darker meaning there was a storm coming. Digging inside my jacket pocket I drew out my phone dialing the house phone getting no answer. “Seriously a house full of that many people and nobody hears the phone!”
I guess I couldn't blame them for not answering. That house is always loud and crazy no matter what time of day. Plus now that Jackie from New York had moved in things got more complicated. Tapping my knees in thought I tried to decide who would answer my call. Alex was busy with Jackie, Parker was probably outside playing with Benny. Will was working tonight selling houses. Jordan, Nathan, Lee, Isaac and Danny didn't drive. So that left me in the hands of the most popular guy in town who was known for hooking up with multiple girls Cole. Lifting my head up to the sky I felt heavy rain coming down where I scrambled to my feet but collapsed when I felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. “Shit!...guess he's my only choice now.”
It wasn't that I hated the guy. I just hated the reputation he had made for himself. The rain came pouring down where I grunted, forcing myself to stand up. I hopped over to the treeline to get some coverage from the storm. The wind was picking up, shaking everything so I dialed his number. “Pick up, pick up.”
“What's going on, Y/n?” His voice came through the phone.
“Don't make fun of me but I'm lost.” I stated.
He chuckled at me. “How did little woodlen girl get lost?”
“Cole, I'm not in the mood for teasing right now.” I spat back.
The former star football player still was laughing on the other end. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe girl who hunts with her father managed to get lost on our property. I mean I never thought I’d see the day from someone like you.”
“Cole, I am currently stuck out in a storm and called you for help so can you take this seriously please!” I raised my voice pulling the hood of my jacket over my head shivering when the wind blew harshly against me.
Finally to my surprise he came to his senses responding back to me. “Alright I’ll come get you.” He hung up the call and I was forced to listen and watch the storm get worse for an hour or so.
Burying my face into my knees my body was shaking from the cold and the fact that my clothes were soaked head to toe. I heard a vehicle engine getting closer in my direction and it pulled to a stop showing me it was Cole’s truck he was usually working on in the barn. The drivers door flung opened and quickly shut where I saw someone running towards me with a jacket in their hands. “Cole?”
“One knight in shining armor, woodland girl.” He declared dropping down on a knee, draping the jacket over my shoulders.
I glared up into his green eyes seeing his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Can you please call me by my actual name for once?”
“Maybe someday. Come on let's get out of the cold before we both get frost bite.” He offered me his hands tugging me to stand.
“Argh!” I winced, dropping down on my other knee after my injured ankle.
Cole was quick on his reflectances sweeping me up bridal style into his muscular arms. “Looks like you needed a better horse riding teacher than Alex huh?”
“Let’s not talk about it right now.” I said feeling embarrassed enough as is. He helped me into the passenger seat and we drove home. He carried me upstairs and sat me down on the edge of his bed in his bedroom.
He searched around in the closet grabbing himself a change of clothes. Then he tossed me one of his blue tea shirts and some shorts. “Here I can help you if you need it.”
“Turn around first.” I instructed him, blushing since I haven't even kissed anyone before. He did as told giving me the chance to slip my wet shirt for his and shrugging off my jeans until I thought about getting the shorts on. I pulled them up as much as I could before getting his attention. “Cole, I can’t get them up without standing on my foot.”
He looks over his shoulder coming back to me moving his hands down to the left side telling me. “Lift your foot for me.” I lifted my foot and he shrugged it up then helping me sit back down on the bed so I could do the same to my right leg without his assistance.
“Thanks, Cole.” I whispered where he stands in front of me letting silence fill the room. I avoided his gaze, not sure of what to say until I shut my eyes to ask the question. “So did you have to skip a hookup with Erin to come rescue me?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Why would you care if I did. You have a crush on me or something, woodland girl?”
“Y/n, you know my name so use it.” I corrected him. “And even if I did, you don't have relationships. I wouldn't want to be another girl tricked by The Cole Effect.”
He raised a brow at my words. “Oh yeah. What makes you think you'd just be another girl I hook up with?”
“Like I said everyone at school knows you don't do real boyfriend girlfriend relationships. You do hook ups and my mother saw it before I did but I refuse to let my feelings for you lead me down that path since you can't possibly feel the same way about me as I do you.” I accidentally admitted without realizing it to him.
Cole stared blankly at me. “You don't think I feel the same?”
“If you did, you have a funny way of showing it.” Shrugging my shoulders I lowered my gaze down from his green orbs.
Cole simply replied then closed the gap between us. “Is this enough of an effort for ya.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine.
I gasped in shock and awe that the famous Cole Walter was kissing me. He was kissing me, the girl that wasn’t popular like he was. The girl that was just a friend of the family but still no one special. “Cole…I’ve never….never done anything like this.” I mumbled tugging on his blonde locks deepening the kiss. He moaned gently pushing me down onto the mattress and he climbed over top of me never breaking the heated kiss until we needed air.
“I’m not doing this to just have a hook up with you, Y/n. I’m not good with commitment but I do actually care about you.” He breathed out holding himself up by his hands on either side of me, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were focused on me.
Raising one hand up I tangled my fingers into his hair asking the question that was eating away at me now. “So what does that make us now, Cole Walter?”
“We can take this slow and figure it out as we go along, Y/n Woodland Girl L/n.” He smiled leaning down kissing me gently this time. I giggled wrapping my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me enjoying the kisses we shared.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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thepersonnamedsam · 10 months
Note
hiii, love your stuff<33 could I maybe request a gen z reader blurb where after getting in a crash due to a mechanical issue everyone worries about her and she’s pissed because she felt seen as weak and vulnerable?? THANK U SO MUCH
life goes on
pairing: genz!driver x '23!grid and some seb cameo
summary: see request :)
word count: 2.1k
warnings: crash, blood, injury, anger issues, tears (idk if that’s a warning), media talks bad about genz!driver, foul language
note: thank you so much for the request!! i am not quite sure if i should write the genz!driver stories in a you pov or a she/her pov, what would you prefer, please let me know, ty :))
masterlist / taglist
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It started with a bad day. FP1 was shit, FP2 was also not great. Her day was just not great. Free practice 3 was better, the car had finally responded to her again. In the first two laps, everything went smooth. She was already singing Smooth Operator in her head. But suddenly the car stirred, luckily she saved herself and didn’t crash, but she did retire from the session.
Her engineer and her sat together for Qualifying. She told him everything she noticed whilst driving.
„I feel like the steering wheel is not responding on time. It’s like it’s two seconds delayed, which is not good.“
He nodded and wrote it down on a notepad. „I feel like there’s nothing we can do, I can check with the mechanics, but qualifying is in two hours, which may not be enough time“, her race engineer told her. She sighed. The last two days were bad for y/n, she hasn’t slept good for at least four days. She nodded and told him that she’d be in her drivers room.
As qualifying started, she only got in one good lap before she had to retire. She was right, her steering wheel indeed had a slight delay. Which made turning corners very hard. She ended Q1 in P19, her worst result in qualifying yet. She was disappointed, in herself and in the car.
Her mechanics tried to fix the issue until the race started, but with no hope. She prepared herself for the race, knowing it would not be an easy one. She was scared, like scared shitless. She tried to call Sebastian during Q2, but he did not pick up. Opting for a quick text, she asked him to call her back as soon as possible.
Lewis heard what happened to y/n car during Q1 and wanted to comfort the young driver. With long strides he went to her motorhome. Her engineer just pointed to her drivers room as soon as he saw Lewis approach him. Three short knocks. Her head snapped up as the door opened. Lewis was standing there, looking pitiful and held his arms out.
„Are you okay, darling?“, he asked her as she nuzzled her head in his shoulders. She let her tears fall freely. Shaking her head she told him how she felt. „The steering wheel is delayed, which is so difficult to drive with and also dangerous. But my mechanics can’t fix it, they don’t know why it’s happening and a whole reboot of the system would take too long! I’m scared, Lewis. I don’t know what to do.“
His hand firm on her backside, he just held the young woman. Telling her to retire to not cause a crash would’ve been the best thing. Tell her to refuse to race. But he didn’t, knowing the girl and her ambitions. She would race, no matter what. She didn’t want to be seen as weak or even worse, girly.
She was girly, but not in the sense of racing. She was just as ‚manly‘ as the other drivers.
„I know that you will make the right decision about the whole situation“, Lewis told her. Oh, how wrong he was.
Q3 was finished with Verstappen on pole, as always, Perez on P2 and Leclerc on P3. Happy to see Charles starting this high, she went into the race with somewhat a good feeling. The first three laps were okay, she sank down to P20, DeVries overtook her with ease on the second corner, as she slowed down as much as possible to control the car. But the longer the race was, the more angry she got. It was not fair, the steering wheel was just not responding.
On lap 24 y/n’s car crashed. In corner eight, her steering wheel stopped working. Instead of a turn, the car just went straight into the pit wall. The front wing smashed against the wall, squashing it against her own car. Her head was spinning. What just happened?
„Red flag, the FIA just announced a red flag in corner eight. Seems like y/l/n crashed. Let’s hope she’s fine.“
Several team radios went through.
„Charles, y/n crashed in corner eight, there’s a red flag, be careful.“
„Lewis, there is a red flag.“
„Be careful, Max. You are approaching corner eight where y/n has had a crash.“
And many more. Everyone was concerned. What has happened? What did she do to crash her car like that. Was she responsive? Responsible? What was going on?
„y/n, please respond. The race has been stopped. What happened?“, her race engineer tried to speak to her, she was non-responsive.
„What the fuck, what happened?! Is she responsive? Are the medics on their way?“, Lewis was the first to address the situation. „We don’t know, we don’t see any medics yet, Lewis.“
And as Max pulled up to corner eight he hopped out of his car. He ran towards hers and yelled for her, to show him a sign that she was still alive, without a response. He was worried, he was always worried when someone crashed, but he was extra worried when she did.
„y/n! What happened? Are you okay? Please give me a sign!“, he tried it again, with no luck. He saw her helmet move, the flashy colours moving from side to side. „Ach godzijdank Ah, thank god“, he mumbled.
The medics arrived and ushered Max to the side. Taking her out of the car and laying her on a spinal board. Transporting her into the ambulance.
She was devastated. It was not her fault she crashed. But the media didn’t know that. They would accuse her of crashing yet another car. That she wasn’t good enough to be in Formula 1. They would report about her as if she wasn’t a human being and just something they could play with. They would talk about her like a doll. It was not fair.
Meanwhile on the paddock the talking began. Lewis was the most worried, he should’ve just told her to refuse racing. What if she suffered a serious injury? Like a neck or spine injury and couldn’t race anymore. It was his fault, that’s what he thought.
Lando was worried too, not really knowing what happened, he was just worried. She could be injured. The minutes went by without any news from her. They were hard for Lando.
Even Checo, who wasn’t usually a companion of y/n, was worried. He didn’t see what happened, but he heard from Max how the crash looked - bad, it looked bad.
„We hear from the medics; y/n is okay. At least that. Let’s hope the race will continue without another crash.“
Lewis released a breather, not knowing he heals so much air in his lungs. He was glad y/n was okay. He still felt bad, always feeling responsible for her. And now that she crashed, his head was spinning with gut wrenching thoughts and worry.
The FIA announced the green flag and the race continued without y/n. When she got back to her garage, her motorhome, she expected a angry team principal, angry mechanics and engineers, expect she was greeted with relieved sighs and shoulder droppings. Her engineer was the first one to embrace her. He told her how sorry he was and how everything was definitely not her fault.
She was still angry, no points, no race, no happy ending for that day. Everything was shit. She had a shit day that race. And it was not even her own fault.
Her team principal came towards her, gripping her shoulders hard and said: „I know this seems bad, it is, but we can fix it. I wish I could send you home, but media still awaits.“
So she waited, she waited lap after lap until eventually Max won the race. She waited until her PR got her out of the drivers room and took her to the media pen, where the post race conferences will be held.
Sky Sports interviewed the todays winner. So, y/n waited for Max to finish. She hoped he would never finish, that she would never have to face the camera and talk about the incident.
But that didn’t happen.
„Hello y/n, how do you feel? Everything okay, no pain?“, the nice interviewer asked her. „Uh, yeah, everything is fine“, she struggled with her answer, not believing herself that everything was fine.
„Can you tell me what happened? We just saw you crashing?“ - „Uhm, yeah“, she looked towards her media PR, what was she allowed to say? She shook her head - no bad words about her team. „I-, uh, I lost control of my steering wheel.“
The interviewer nodded. „We saw you retire from the race after Q1, having struggled already in FP1 and 2. Did you have problems with your steering wheel during them as well?“
She sighed. She was tired, her neck ached and she just wanted to be in her bed.
„I mean, kind of, yeah you could say I struggled with it during free practice.“
If she told the interviewer that she struggled with it during the whole yesterday and today, she would’ve bad mouthed the team.
„Last question for today, y/n. We asked Twitter for some comments, would you be so kind to make a statement to some of them?“
She really didn’t want to, knowing exactly what most of them had to say; women don’t belong in motorsports, etc.
„Sure“, she sighed. Her PR nodded, happy that y/n decided not to refuse.
„Alright, @motodports_2 said: That’s the second time this season that y/n crashed her car and we are only on the 7th race. What do you have to say to that?“
She closed her eyes, the headache creeping in like a madman with a desire to kill. „That’s true, that was the second crash of the season. And I am sorry for that, my team doesn’t deserve me crashing that many times during the season. I apologise.“
Sebastian was sitting at home, watching the race from his couch. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. The team doesn’t deserve a driver that crashes so much? Bullshit.
He missed her calls earlier that day, he wished he would’ve picked up his phone or at least called her back. But what she was telling to that interviewer was absolute bull.
Charles, who was next in line, also couldn’t believe the stuff you were telling Sky Sports.
„Okay, @maydrive says: The way y/n is throwing away her career in F1 with those shenanigans. Get a grip, will you?“, the interviewer read from the screen in front.
Charles was shocked, he never had to respond to any comments like that. How was she experiencing something like that?
„Uh yeah, thank you @maydrive for that. I will try to get a grip, and you are right, I am throwing away my F1 career like that, but I don’t want that, that’s why I will keep trying to get better“, her eyes were starting water. Just don’t let those tears fall, y/n. They want to see her cry, don’t give them the satisfaction of it.
„Thank you, y/n. Rest up and good evening!“
Her PR pulled her away and onto the next interview. After all that, she was exhausted. Exhausted and angry. How could they be asking her questions like that? Not fair.
Back in her garage, she let the emotions flow. Tears were streaming down her face, sobs were heard and her body was shaking. Her PR handed y/n her phone, leaving her again with a gentle pat to the shoulder.
Seb was calling her.
„Before you say anything, don’t let them treat you like that ever again. Not your fault, if you had problems with the steering wheel, it is not your place to apologise“, Seb interrupted her, before she could even sob into the phone. He heard sniffles. „Don’t cry, liebes dear. You did nothing wrong today.“
„Seb, I wish you’d be here“, she sobbed into the phone. It broke his heart. Comforting someone over the phone was hard, much more if the person being comforted was a teenager.
„It’s gonna be okay, life goes on, okay?“, he told her. „I just feel so weak and vulnerable. They hate me, they always find something wrong with my driving.“
„You are not weak! Who told you that?“, a voice from behind her sounded from the dark. Fernando Alonso stepped out of the shadow. Seb instantly recognised the older spaniards voice over the phone. Glad y/n was not alone in a time like this.
Fernando embraced her. Hugging her tight and firmly. He felt her heartbeat against his chest, beating like crazy. „Breathe with me, y/n.“
They were standing in her motorhome, embraced in one another. If a camera had noticed, headliners would say: Alonso and y/l/n dating confirmed? But there was no camera around.
She had her family here in F1. She belonged here, just as much as any other driver. She was not at fault. She was not weak or vulnerable. She was strong.
°°°
taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23
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simpcityy · 9 months
Text
I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)
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Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.
Word Count: 500
Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6
Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.
Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.
“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!
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f1version · 1 year
Text
THERE’S ONLY ONE..COUCH ★ CS55
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pairing: carlos sainz jr x fem!reader (she/her)
summary: You and Carlos have to sleep at Lando’s place after a party, but the guest room has no furniture, you have to sleep in the living room. So, there’s no ‘only one bed’… there’s only one couch.
warning: teasing, carlos speaking spanish.
word count: 1.5k (it's 1.555 and i love that)
note: this is my first “one shot” ever, i am SCARED. also asking for part two is allowed in this one lmao, tell me if you would like that :)
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Three days ago, Lando Norris had won his first race in Formula 1 and because celebrations were never-ending to him, he had to do something with his closest friends two days after the big obnoxious party. That’s how you and Carlos ended up in Lando’s apartment in Monaco.
Now, the thing is, Lando was the one who bought the plane tickets, then sent them to you that morning, he was in a rush since you were his only guests who didn’t reside in Monaco. And you were also in a rush, so no return tickets or hotel. And even if you could afford a night in Monaco, you were still drunk-out-off-your-mind at this point.
So.
"Hey Lando, do you think that um... I stay the night? If it isn’t a bother, obviously.” You said, words collide with each other.
“Oh, of course, mate! I already told Carlos you guys could crash here.” Lando says with a new bottle of wine, you laugh at his drunk mannerisms. "But, the guest room has no furniture yet, so you have the couch or the floor.” the brunette explains.
"The couch is fine," Carlos answers behind you.
Lando raised an eyebrow "For you two?"
You understood the doubt, he was asking if you would be comfortable. The brit didn’t have that teasing tone when he sees couples interact. On that note, you exchanged glances with Carlos and he shrugged before nodding.
"Yes," you both said at the same time.
Charles choked on some wine, laughing. The Monegasque had been talking with Lando when you approached him. “Sorry, mate, I just like that they get along so well.” He clarifies and winks at you.
You rolled your eyes, Charles has been like this for months, insisting you should date Carlos, saying you both are far into each other. You tell him he is just your friend, you’re his engineer, but Charles Leclerc can be very stubborn.
“Yes, well, I think I'm going to the balcony for air, I'll see you later.” You babble and Charles lets out a big laugh. “Thank you again, Lan”
“I'm going with you.” Carlos says.
“What?”
"I'm going to take some air with you," Carlos explains to you and you nod, exiting the scene side by side, leaving behind Charles’ victorious smile and new gossip for Lando.
"I'm going to sleep on the floor," Carlos says as you approach the balcony.
“No, you won’t. You have media duty to attend this week, Carlitos, please.”
“I'll be fine, mujer!” he smiles, surrounding your shoulders with his arm “I've been doing it for a while now.”
“And that’s exactly why you shouldn't” you exclaim “If it bothers you, I'll take the floor.”
Carlos looks at you as if you just committed a crime and shakes his head. You laugh, snuggling a little into the Spaniard's arm, feeling warm and safe around him. Yeah, Carlos made you feel safe.
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“Carlos, as part of the Ferrari team, I don't want you sleeping on the floor.” You complain, again.
You have been having this discussion for about three minutes. It was simple, Sainz said that he was used to it and you attacked, saying that there was room for both of you on the couch.
“Cariño, there is no room for both of us on the couch.” He repeats for the thousand time “Just lay down and sleep, I'm fine.”
"Sainz, stop it. There is enough room here, so you come to sleep here, where there is enough space, or I will make sure you can’t seat, rest or sleep in beds and couches for the rest of the season"
At that moment, Carlos turned to look at you with wide eyes, it was a funny statement, but he loved when you went all fearless for him.
Getting lost in his thoughts, Carlos gave you enough time to believe you had won the battle; so when he looked at you again, you already had a satisfied smile on your face, and he knew he had no way out.
Carlos sighed. "Okay, you win, just promise that you won't do that, please”
You looked at him tenderly and smiled. It was a peculiar smile, it was full of yearning and confessions. It wasn’t a smile you gave a lot, at least not to people who weren’t Carlos Sainz Jr. Oh, but Carlos was too blinded in his own fascination to notice.
“It’s okay, for now, I'll leave your furniture alone.”
After that, you shared a couple of laughs with the Spaniard before sitting on the sofa, moving the cushions aside, and putting down the pillows Lando gave you.
You lay down, turning to Carlos —whose eyes haven’t left you— making a small signal for him to lay down next to you.
The Spaniard approached quietly, laying down. And, it turns out, the couch wasn't as big as it looked, a quarter of Carlos's body was outside it, and it was somewhat uncomfortable.
"Hey, do you think you can move a little?" Carlos asked in a soft tone, to which you automatically agreed.
You both started to move and complain, because when you moved, he did, making you uncomfortable. You moved again. It was still messy.
This is how a few minutes passed between complaints and movement, at least before you fell directly on top of Carlos, after that, everything was silence, surprise, and closeness. Bodies so close you felt the other’s skin burn through your clothes.
You wanted to burn.
“I told you there wasn't enough space.” Carlos whispered, mockingly.
“Are you uncomfy?” You asked with annoyance, he shakes his head. "Then you're fine, I'm not uncomfy either."
For a moment, silence rules the room. Quiet enough to hear Carlos’ heart beating against his chest, you breathe deeply, so deeply that he feels it.
"You’re heart is racing, honey," you whisper, pet name slipping right through. You normally use it to joke around, and you think you are, but at some point it feels like you’re supposed to say it.
His eyes dart over your face, looking for something he knows he will find. “So it’s yours.”
You see it then. Gaze drowned in desire, pupils dilated just like yours. There’s also fear—fear of making the wrong move, of dooming something that has barely started.
You bring your fingers to Carlos’ face, caressing his jaw in the most delicate way you know.
“I want... Mi vida, can I kiss-” You don’t let him finish his question, your lips are on his.
Carlos holds you by the neck, bringing you closer. His face tilts slightly, kissing deeper. His tongue asks for permission to play with yours as butterflies find home in your stomach. You can feel Carlos melting from the taste of you, loving the feeling, the intimacy of the moment.
This felt so right yet so wrong. It was strange. One of his engineers and him. If any of the team knew, this could end bad, would bring a thousand problems, attention none of you wanted for each other. But they didn't know.
Carlos felt too good for it to be a bad thing.
He wants to kiss you for as long as you let him. He wants to pour his heart into every single one.
He wants it to last forever and that’s why splitting is the worst part of it. That moment when your body asks you for more, but needs to breathe. When it asks to be pleased, but can’t stop begging for mercy. You want his lips to be mercy. But you find air.
Carlos looks at you in fascination, his hands instinctively falling on your hips. Something stops him.
“Can I touch you?” He asks and you nod.
The Spaniard’s eyes sparkle, surrendering to intimacy. His fingers begin to slide down your curves, slow and fearful, trying to do everything not to disturb you. You who can’t be more eager.
“Your curves are… beautiful” He whispers, looking for the words he wanted, “So perfect.”
“Carlos,”
“Si, mi vida?” He whispers into your ear, biting the lobe gently. This small contact causes your back to arch slightly. Carlos speaks again “So, so, beautiful.”
“Carlos, please,” you beg, it was unnecessary to ask if you wanted to stop or continue.
"Oh, what I would do to you if we weren't at Lando’s place." That little innuendo seems to leave Carlos’ lips by accident, realization making his face burn.
You just smile. Wanting more, wanting his words to be spoken with promise.
“Want to know something, Sainz? We have a two-week break after this race, and I have no plans.” That makes Carlos smile, closing the gap between you once again. You wonder if it would actually happen, if it’s not you making empty promises.
“Then I’ll have to get you to Spain.” Carlos whispers, kissing your neck, finding comfort in it. “Good night, mi vida.”
“Good night, my love.”
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translations:
linda pretty cariño sweetheart mi vida my life
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cameronspecial · 6 months
Text
Let Me Handle It, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  Blackmailing, Being Sick, Threatening to Kill Someone, Mentions of An Affair
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.0K
Summary: Y/N stresses about not being able to take a test after missing it because she is sick, but good thing Rafe is here to help.
Masterlist
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He can hear tiny sniffles coming from inside of his room. He opens the door to see the wet globs coming from her eyes and the tiny shrivel of her nose confirms his assumption that she is crying. Her hand tugs at the opposite sleeve of his oversized hoodie that she wears. As soon as their eyes lock, he rushes to sit on the bed and pulls her onto his lap. “What’s wrong, my sweet angel?” he coos, unsticking her hair from the wet trail on her face it attached itself to so that he can look into her eyes. She takes a second to steady her breathing, “Y-you kn-know how I had that test today, but I’ve been puking all week so I couldn’t go?” He nods his head for her to continue. “Well, I emailed my professor at the beginning of the week asking if I could do it another day. He said that I would need to show him a doctor's note before the end of the day for that to happen. I tried telling him that I tried everything all week to get one, but my doctor doesn’t have a free appointment, the clinic can’t give me one because they aren’t my regular doctor and the hospital won’t even see me. So, now, I’m going to lose 20% of my mark because I was sick.” 
Rafe listens carefully to her little rant, growing angry at each hoop his sick girlfriend had to go through just to get something as trivial as a redo test. She had been studying every chance she could get, even through her sickness. Rafe knows how serious Y/N is about her grades and school. After all, she needs some great grades to get into grad school. He would never think twice about losing 20% of his grade because all he wants to do is pass the class, which is perfectly doable without that. However, Y/N, especially with her anxiety, needs every percent she can get and Rafe wasn’t going to let some old shit with a stick up his ass stop her from doing so. “It’s going to be okay. Let me handle it, angel,” he assures, kissing her temple. 
——
The line to the professor’s office is three people deep. All of them are waiting to enter for his office hours, but Rafe is not going to take the chance of not talking to him. He stares down the first guy in line and walks to the front of the line. From the guy’s smell, he must be an engineering major. No one says anything about Rafe’s actions because he has a well-known reputation on campus. The door opens to the office and Rafe doesn’t wait for the student inside to walk out. The wrinkles on the professor’s forehead crate a v, a frown falling onto his face. “I don’t believe you are in any of my classes,” he states, trying to pinpoint if he has seen Rafe in any of his lectures. Rafe shakes his head in a low chuckle, “No, I am not, Professor Smith. But my girlfriend is. You may remember her from the email you sent her, Y/N Y/L/N.” “Ah, yes. I do remember her. Unless you have the doctor's notes or are a doctor, then I am afraid I can’t do anything. It’s not my fault she didn’t plan accordingly,” Smith comments, not looking up from his laptop. 
Rafe closes the teacher’s laptop. This causes the man to look at him and he gives him a threatening smile. “I’m sorry to say that I don’t have any notes. But my angel won’t be needing one,” he sings, running his finger along the desk. The elder’s head tilts, “Really? And why would that be?” Rafe’s grin turns almost psychotic.
“Because I know a little secret about where you like to spend your Sunday nights. I have a lot of photographic evidence that I’m sure the university and your wife would love.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Let’s not play this game. My frat brother also likes to visit the little lady you like to have a dalliance with and he told me everything she told him. If that doesn’t convince you, then maybe the piece in my nightstand drawer will.”
The bob of the professor’s Adam’s apple is very evident, “Are you trying to blackmail me?” 
“Nice to see you finally caught up on what is going on. Now, are you going to do what I asked?”
Smith looks at Rafe with wide eyes and the points of his lips stretch. He can see the seriousness on Rafe’s face. His head gives a small nod, “Y-yes. I think I can do something for Ms. Y/L/N.” “That’s great. Let’s type her a nice apologetic email. And if you even think about telling anyone about this, then you might just find yourself six feet under,” Rafe intimidates, reopening the laptop for the professor. 
——
Wind passes through her hair as she makes her way towards Rafe. Her smile rivals the sun and she jumps into his arms. Her legs wrap around his waist. He grips the back of her thighs to keep her up. “What has you so happy, my angel? Only I’m allowed to do that,” Rafe complains, peppering kisses all over her face. She giggles at the assault of his lips, “Professor Smith let me redo the test without a doctor’s note. I got a 100%.” Rafe lets out a cheer, spinning her around. “That’s so great! You work so hard. I’m so proud of you, angel,” he praises. She gives her his thanks as she tells him in detail about her test, talking about how she figured out a question she got a little stuck on. He nods and listens, spotting the professor out of the corner of his eye. Professor Smith becomes frightened and he quickly looks away from Rafe. He smirks at the professor’s reaction, returning his full gaze to his girl.
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thvhoe · 7 months
Text
SHOW YOU WHAT DEVOTION IS | JJK
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PAIRING: BOXER JUNGKOOK X BALLERINA READER
GENRE: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, BOXER AU, DANCE AU, SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST
A/N: hihi just a cute lil drabble were Jungkooks feeling not so cute👀
SYNOPSIS:
In the boxing scene, Jeon Jungkooks the ultimate ace, with his tattoos and muscles that could turn heads. He might be new to the game, but the way he fights makes you think he was born for it–ready to conquer the boxing world. But sometimes even he needs time off, time to reflect, wind down...you, he needs you
Jungkook's imprompto visit wasn't to surprise you, it was a result of a stupid impulse that often seemed to take control of him–lately at least...ever since he met you to be exact
On this particular night, he had been driving around the neighbourhood on his Harley, the hum of the engine beneath him giving a calm sound to his thoughts. He didnt set out with any destination in mind–he was just letting the road guide him, nothing new to him
But as he drove, the memory of his fight today was still fresh in his mind–hed won of course, yet being the perfectionist he was he couldnt help but think about all the mistakes he made.
He wanted to go to the beach to release some pent up frustration–it was a familiar sanctuary, a place where he knew no one would disturb him. Yet, as he drove it was like a magnetic something had taken hold of him, dragging him to...you
Before he knew it, he found himself parked in front of your home, the Harley's engine turned off as he leaned against the bike, cig in hand and just staring at your window. It wasnt creepy. At least he hoped he wasnt, he ciuldnt even see inside anyway
Letting out the smoke, Jungkook sighed, he shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind, his eyes briefly closing "What the fuck are you doing here?" he muttered to himself
Turning towards his bike to get his helmet, Jungkook was ready to leave when a soft, familiar voice stops him "Jungkook?"
-
"You really should be more careful, especially right in front of my house," you say gently as you hand Jungkook a glass of water. Sitting together in your room, you couldn't help but sigh, adrenaline of his unexpected visit coursing through your veins–it was nice though...having Jungkook close was nice
Jungkook took a sip of water, his gaze cold as he met your eyes. "I didn't plan on coming here," he admits frustrated
You shrug, a small giggle escaping your lips. "Well, here you are," you quip, your legs drawn closer to your chest as you made yourself comfortable. "Is there something bothering you?" you ask, "is that why youre here?"
Jungkook hesitats for a moment, then lets down his guard, shaking his head slowly, "It's just boxing stuff," he confeses, "I won a fight today, but my game was off. I don't know what was wrong with me" he scoffs at himself chugging the resg of his water
You nod "mh" then smile, much to Jungkooks surprise. He was used to hearing stuff like "but at least you won man" or "who cares, you won". Instead hes surprised to hear you say "i understand, you must be beating yourself up pretty hard huh?" You inch closer to him, pressing a loving hand on his arm
He flinches a bit, not enough for you to notice though, as he looks down at where your hand caresses his arm "i am, well-" he shrugs "i was" he corrects himself
"Youre not anymore?" Your smile grows "thats good" you pat his arm one last time before scooting away a bit, giving him space–what you dont know is that Jungkook almost wants to yell out and tell you to come back, closer...hug him...
"It's..." Jungkook began, scoffing at himself once more "It's weird how you make me feel understood," he admits, a smile forming on his lips as he pokes the inside of his cheek. His eyes locked to yours, and everything seemed to stop, bringing your faces closer together
Had he moved closer, or had you been this close this whole time?
You smil scrunching up your nose "do I?" you tease, "that's all I want," you continued turning a bit more serious, your hand lightly running through your hair "to make people feel loved and understood," you finsih
Jungkook, however, seems lost in his thoughts, replying with a quiet, "Yeah?" before inching a bit closer
"Y-yeah," Your stutter, caught off guard by the sudden proximity
Jungkook's gaze dropped to your lips, and he absentmindedly toyed with his lip ring before shaking his head lightly
You werent ready for this, if he was to kiss you, it should be because the moment was right, romantic, and not simply a result of the heat of the moment
So he pulls away
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theemporium · 3 months
Text
this is the first instalment of a mini 'wisdom teeth blurbs' series that i am doing as my last wee bit of writing for this year! and it only feels right to start out with my first babies<3
series masterlist
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The engine came to a stop once Daniel turned the key in the ignition, letting silence settle in the car as the dental practice loomed past the windshield.
“I can’t believe this.” 
Despite the pain pulsing along his jaw, Daniel couldn’t help but smile a little as he turned to look at you in the passenger’s seat. “You aren’t even the one getting the surgery, Sunshine.” 
You let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in your seat as you glanced over at him. “Maybe they can sedate me too.”
“Everything is going to be fine,” Daniel assured you as he leaned over to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and giving you a soft squeeze. “They’ve done it a thousand times before. I’ll be in good hands.” 
“I know,” you murmured before you shifted in your seat, turning your body towards him. “Do me one favour?” 
“Anything.” 
“Smile for me.”
Daniel’s brows furrowed together as he tried to hold back his laugh. “What?” 
“Smile one last time in case they ruin my favourite smile,” you said, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which only made the Aussie laugh harder. “Danny, I’m serious!”
“I know,” he said with a shake of his head, leaning over the console to take your face in his and press a quick kiss on your lips. “My smile is still gonna be here afterwards and I’ll smile all you want. Promise.” 
You sunk into his embrace, nodding. “Okay. Let’s go in before they start wondering why we are lingering here.” 
Daniel snorted. “You still good with driving my car after?” 
Something in his chest tightened at the way your face instantly lit up. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna be doing donuts in the car park while you’re inside.”
“Mrs Ricciardo?”
Your cheeks heated up as the nurse stepped out, head peeking around the door as she looked at you with a smile. A part of you knew you should have corrected her, but another part of you didn’t want to. You quickly gathered your belongings, following her as she led you through the different corridors until you reached the office Daniel was sitting in.
“MY WIFE!”
Your face was burning as every pair of eyes settled on you, but your focus was the boy lying on the chair. He was grinning at you, mouth stuffed with bloody gauze and a blissed out look on his face that only laughing gas could give a person. 
“Hey, baby,” you smiled as you approached him, barely in arm’s length of the boy before he was tugging you close. Before you could even say anything, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, settling his head against your stomach. “Someone missed me.”
“He’s been asking for his wife ever since he woke up,” the nurse said with a kind smile on her face. “Kept on telling us we would never believe how pretty she is.” 
“Oh wow,” you murmured, though your stomach warmed at the thought.
“He also wouldn’t allow us to let you in until we assured him his smile was still perfect,” she continued and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
“Your smile is still perfect, baby,” you assured your boyfriend as you looked down at him, fingers lightly pushing his curls back from his face. 
“Really?” His wide eyes staring up at you, full of love and adoration. 
“Really,” you confirmed as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you back home.” 
“Cuddles?” He asked hopefully.
You laughed, nodding. “All the cuddles you want, baby.”
“I have the best wife!”
.
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chronicowboy · 1 year
Text
Buck is stood staring at his couch with a wrinkled nose when a frantic knocking rips him from his thoughts. Frowning, he skids over to the door on socked feet and yanks it open to reveal a harried Eddie and sheepish Christopher.
"Tell me you aren't busy," Eddie pleads, already pushing into the loft to set down two dangerously full grocery bags on the kitchen island.
The loft suddenly seems a lot brighter, feels a lot warmer.
"I'm not busy," Buck replies as he shoots a questioning look at Christopher who only bites his lip and looks away.
"Oh, thank God." Eddie grabs him by the shoulders with a grateful smile before taking a deep breath. "I am. Busy. Like incredibly busy."
"Okay..." Buck narrows his eyes at him. "So, I'm hanging out with my favourite Diaz then?"
"Hold the thought on that favourite bit," Eddie huffs, dropping his hands. Buck's shoulders turn cold at the loss, he shrugs the absence off. Eddie turns to Christopher with his arms folded over his chest and an arched eyebrow. "Want to tell Buck what you decided to tell me at four pm this afternoon?"
"Fine," Chris sighs, looking up at Buck guiltily. "I need to bake cookies for my whole class."
"Sure, we can do that." Buck frowns, sharing a look with a still frantic Eddie. "When do you need them for?"
Christopher averts his eyes. Realisation dawns on Buck, and he shares a knowingly unimpressed look with Eddie.
"Tomorrow," he mumbles.
"Chris," Buck groans.
"I know, okay?" Chris groans right back. "I forgot. I'm sorry. Will you help me? Please?" He breaks out his patented puppy eyes, and Buck has to try hard not to laugh at the notion he wasn't going to help Chris all along.
Buck steals a look at an apologetic Eddie, shakes his head in a way he hopes conveys I've got your back.
"Of course I will, Chris, you know that." His eyes snap to Christopher when Eddie's face melts into that dangerously fond expression. He's been seeing a lot more of it ever since he woke up from his coma, and it makes him feel a little like a lightning bolt trapped in a human body. He doesn't know what to make of it.
"You are a lifesaver," Eddie tells him seriously, pulling him into a quick hug. "I've gotta get over to Pepa's, but I'll be back around dinner time, okay?"
"Oh, I see," Buck tuts. "You just want to reap the benefits of all our hard work."
"Obviously." Eddie pulls one of his patented frog faces. "I wasn't trying to hide that."
"Lazy good-for-nothing," Buck says, except it comes out sounding much more like you're everything.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Who here was asleep for a wholeass week?" Eddie retorts.
"Ass," Chris snickers.
"Don't," Buck and Eddie scold in unison, sharing a bashful smile. Chris just rolls his eyes.
Buck tries not to preen at how natural all of this is, thinks of Bobby's words in the engine just before lightning struck.
Life's too short to take those relationships for granted.
Buck has seen his world without the Diazes in it, he'll never take them for granted again.
"I don't think a coma is technically considered sleep," Buck argues, just happy that Eddie isn't flinching away from the reminder of the accident like he used to.
"Well, you weren't snoring," Eddie concedes.
"I don't snore!"
"Buck, the only reason I felt okay leaving you sleeping on the couch to make Christopher's lunch was because I could hear you breathing all the way from the kitchen." Buck tries not to think about a worried Eddie hovering over him, fingers itching to reach out and find a pulse, lingering in the doorway to the kitchen because he didn't want to leave Buck alone. "You snore."
"You snore," Chris agrees.
"Betrayal!" Buck gasps. "We're making oatmeal raisin cookies."
"Nooooooo!" Chris cries. "Buck, please!"
"Do I snore?" Buck demands.
"Nope." Chris grins.
"Chocolate chip it is."
"Double chocolate chip?" he tries, eyes wide and sparkling. Buck loves him desperately.
"Nice try, kid." Eddie drops a hand onto Christopher's head. "You get double chocolate chip when you tell us more than one day in advance."
Something warm and content settles in Buck's gut at the ease of Eddie's us.
"Buck?" Chris pouts up at him.
"Nah, not gonna work on me." Buck shakes his head, folds his arms over his chest. Eddie sends him a smile, the small and private one that tucks itself into Eddie's rosy cheeks, the one that Buck's pretty sure he'd return from the dead just to see again.
"Okay, well, you two have got it under control." Eddie ducks down to drop a muah! on Christopher's head, presses a quick one to Buck's cheek. "I'm off! Love you both, see you for dinner!"
Eddie sweeps out of the door in a whirlwind of frantic energy. Buck just watches him go, mouth half-open in a soft 'o' as the skin of his cheek tingles where Eddie's lips had been. He stares at the closed door with wide eyes, stares for so long his mouth goes dry.
Maybe he does have the answers, maybe he's had a couch all along.
A sharp tug on his shirt pulls him from his trance, and he looks down at Christopher.
"Cookies?" he says, entirely too knowing for an eleven-almost-twelve-year-old.
"Cookies," Buck nods.
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cheriladycl01 · 4 months
Text
You're a dick Stroll! - Lance Stroll x Engineer! Reader
Plot: You created the best car for the 2024 season however after some harsh comments from Lawrence Stroll about a female engineer having been the reason his son crashed out in Bahrain turns out after investigations from the FIA people owe you an apology!
A/N: Obviously this is fanfic so its dramatized so in no way does this portray anyone in a realistic light and is just for the drama and the vibes.
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"You innovations have been amazing this year Y/N all thanks to that brain of yours!" Mike Krack the team Principle for Aston Martin tells you, holding either one of your shoulders shaking them in delight at the new car in front of him.
You had been at Silverstone working as the lead mechanic/ designer on the new car throughout the last half of the 2023 season.
"Thank you, but you know it was a team effort right?" you smiled back, it really was a team effort.
"Well, we actually wanted to offer you a promotions of sorts!" he exclaimed a look of shock crossing your face.
"Excuse me?"
"We figured that you know the car the best and we want you travelling with us to make adjustments as and when needed. Last year was a struggle when we didn't have you here, you are the quickest we've seen and having you on the road with the team would really help.
"This is amazing, yes I'll do it!" you exclaimed happy that you were finally able to travel around the world with Aston Martin.
A month later and you were in Bahrain for pre-season testing of the 2024 year, everything was looking good on both the car, they were running well and the data figures looked good to you and your team.
You'd stayed late with a few other team members making sure everything was ready for the most important Sunday of the year, this race was the one that usually set the drivers mentality for the year. Nobody wanted to crash in the first race and no-one wants to not make it into the points.
You left, once you'd finished your checks on both cars, some people still working around.
"Okay, I'm off guys and ill see you for the big day tomorrow!" you smiled at them before heading back to the hotel that Aston Martin had placed you in. It wasn't a long ride, and you splurged on an Uber considering how much overtime you'd just done in the garage.
You did share a hotel with the drivers, as one of the lead engineers in Aston Martin you got the privilege of the nicer hotel compared to some of your colleagues.
As you entered, you could see some of the drivers sat in the bar, Lando Daniel, Max and his girlfriend Kelly were all sat together taking pictures, obviously for the .jpg accounts.
Charles, Pierre, Carlos and Lewis were also there sat at the bar, drinks in hand. However, with your attention directed elsewhere you felt yourself bump into something.
"Oh my gosh I am so sorry" you exclaimed looking towards the person you had bumped into that was now holding your forearm as if to steady you so you didn't fall back.
"It's er okay, you seemed distracted are you... okay?" you hear the person ask and look up to see your teams youngest driver.
"Oh Lance I'm so so sorry!" you say noticing it was him.
"It's okay" he says awkwardly before shuffling off. You watch as he walks up to Alex and George who were also sat with one another. You continue up to your floor before showering and passing out in your bed.
The next day your alarm was set extremely early, you came straight to the track having gotten ready in a record speed time. Your hair was whipped up in a ponytail and you'd nearly put your green Aston Martin team top on back to front.
You got to the track for when Mike told you to meet him there, he wanted you the radio engineers and the strategists to all talk before the race. Considering it was only 7.30 in the morning there were already loads of people in the paddock, from all different teams.
Where it was your first time you didn't know the protocol or anything for greeting other teams, so you just stayed your typical friendly self sending a smile and wave to everyone that you passed and made eye contact with.
Once you'd got into hospitality Ben Mitchell, Chris Conin and Peter Hall were all there, Peter held a coffee out to you with a small smile.
"Thanks" you smiled before you all started to talk about the race ahead, you guys checked the weather patterns and the track temp before trying to plan the race for both drivers.
By the time you'd done your final checks it was time for the race. Lance had placed P7 the day before and Fernando had placed P10 which was an amazing start to the year for Aston Martin.
"How's the car looking?" the social media girl asked, she was looking at the screen of data rolling in from the car but not understanding what the figures actually meant.
"It's performing phenomenally. Its definitely better than last year. Its also original and completely initiative, I've heard Horner and Vasser talking about it!" you explain having heard them interviewing about the grid and a little season preview.
She nods, and you talk a little before she leaves to go and try and film some social media stuff while there isn't too much excitement on the track.
However only 2 laps later Lance was reporting his breaks being stiff, which from the figures looked to be impossible. Before his race engineer could even ask for your advice, Lance went into a turn too quick skidding off the side taking Gasly with him. You looked up at the screen in shock, a hand covering your mouth.
Lance's car had gone sideways before flipping over Gasly's car. Lance and Gasly were both out of the race.
"What the hell happened!" Lawrence screaming coming over to you, all the pit crew who had just pulled Fernando's car in stopped what they were doing and came over to you.
"Sorry?" you asked pulling the headphones off genuinely not having heard him.
"What happened! Your the engineer who was here late last night. What did you do to my sons car, he's an impeccable driver and he has DNFed because YOU cant do your job" he screamed and you flinched taking a wide step back.
"Look i didn't do anything, I wasn't even the final engineer here last night. I think he was just unlucky sir" you tried to explain, but his face like thunder had you a stuttering and stumbling mess.
"Yes you did! Just admit you either sabotaged the car on purpose or your so damn incompetent at your job that you didn't build the car right! You know you should be fired for this, its completely unacceptable and I'll be speaking to Mike about having you removed because you clearly" he starts but one of the crew members behind decided enough was enough and stepped in front of you.
"Hey, sir with all dew respect there are camera's everywhere in here recording so just think about your image" he directs and Fernando having finally got out of his car and having seen what happened to you.
"Lawrence, i think its best that you take a step back" Fernando advises seeing how close he had gotten to you.
Instead he just storms out of the paddock, you release a breath you didn't even realize you had been holding in everyone swarming round you take make sure you were okay.
BREAKING NEWS: FIA LAUNCH INVESTIGATION INTO HEAD OF ENGINEERING AT ASTON MARTIN AFTER STROLL CRASH VIDEO OF LAWRENCE STROLL RIPPING INTO Y/N Y/LN HEAD OF ENGINEERING AT ASTON MARTIN INTERVIEW WITH LAWRENCE STROLL AND MIKE KRACK GETS HEATED AFTER INVESTIGATION LAUNCHED
It only took 4 hours for the public to find out who you were and your social media handles as you had a few people following you. One of which was McLaren who you had worked for under an apprenticeship scheme.
The only thing you really wanted right now was have a drink, so the hotel bar where you were certain would be safe from the public eye. You came down from your hotel room, you weren't in anything fancy and felt out of place the minute you sat down at the bar. Most of the drivers were there celebrating wins, or drinking away the loss.
It was like you had this beeper on you, as when you entered the room and walked to the bar all the drivers seemed to notice you. I mean it wasn't hard, your hair was thrown up in a ratty bun and your eyes were red from having read all the hate messages sent to your inbox.
"She's the one they're investigating because of Stroll's crash! His dad went in on her after the race"
The whispers all around you from people in the bar had you shrinking in your seat.
"So your the one that made me crash!" Lance exclaims from behind you, you turn round seeing his face, angry and upset and expression nobody liked.
"Look, I didn't do anything to the -" you start but are slowly interrupted.
"No you did, you know nothing and you shouldn't be in this job! Everything they are saying about you online is true, you could have killed me and Pierre because of that accident. So careless!" he shouts, which shocked the other drivers as Lance wasn't really one to raise his voice.
"Please Lance, I've already had enough..."
"No, you haven't had enough! You shouldn't be in this sport if you cant build a car properly, it's shit! It's not powerful and you clearly cant build a car like Andre last year!" he says, you could tell he was getting frustrated and it made you take a step of your seat.
"You're a dick Stroll! Andre didn't build the car. I did that's why i took the position this year as he wasn't performing as Head Mechanic so yeah. I didn't do anything to the car, the data was fine maybe you just are as good as a driver as you seem to think you are" you say before storming out of the bar.
Two weeks later, where you'd lazed around all day at home was when you'd got that expected call. You were currently on suspended leave where you were still under investigation. Mike had been facetiming you on and off asking for help to try and speed up the pace of fixing the car before Saudi Arabia GP.
It was in fact Mike calling again, however this time he was telling you to open up any socials and see what the FIA had posted.
CHECKS HAVE BEEN CONDUCTED INTO THE ASTON MARTIN CRASH SHOWING HEAD ENGINEER IS NOT LIABLE AND HAS SERIOULSY BEEN MISSTREATED - FIA FIA COME OUT WITH EVIDENCE THAT ASTON MARTIN HEAD ENGINEER IS NOT TO BLAME FOR STROLL'S SAKHIR CRASH - SKYSPORTS CLEARED FOR DUTY Y/N Y/L/N TO MAKE RETURN AT JEDDAH - F1
"Are you serious?" you say, the first piece of enjoyment in your life in the last few weeks has just occurred.
"Yes, we need you on the first flight out to Saudi, someone's waiting for you at Heathrow to bring you" he exclaims, you jump up cutting the call short and start to rush, packing a bag by slinging clothes in it not bothering to fold. You make sure your uniform is all packed as well as the essentials before running out the door and running to the train station.
You came into the terminal, shooting a text to Mike, not knowing who to be looking for. You look around to see if you can see one of the other mechanics or maybe Mike's personal assistant but you come short.
"Come on Mike" you whisper to yourself looking at your phone.
"Y/N?" you hear from behind you. You knew that Canadian voice all to well.
"Lance?" you ask with a slight sneer to your tone, you were still angry and upset with him and his father for jumping to such outrageous conclusions.
"Mike wants you there asap, so I suggested you come with me" he says guiding you down a secure back path to where it leads out to the jets.
"Your kidding me right?" you ask as he walks you out onto the den where his dad's private jet is waiting.
"We needed you there as soon as possible the car is in literal pieces without you there!" he exclaims, having heard from his father than things had been slow in the garage.
"Well, do you now trust me to build you an effective car?" you ask halting your steps, you didn't want to work with him anymore if you didnt have his trust. Throughout your suspension you had both McLaren and Mercedes reach out to you offering you a job with them once it all blew over.
"I do trust you, I just got angry when i crashed the car in the first race of the season, my dad blamed it on you and to me that seemed the most logical. I am sorry for what its worth" he says awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"For what its worth... you're still a dick. But i think i can put up with that" you smile, before following him over to the pane ahead.
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