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#nobody asked you carlo
matchalovertrait · 1 month
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Uh oh, it looks like Lewis got himself into some trouble! Are the other contestants as lucky as they seem at this moment? Find out what the judges have to say about their dishes in the next segment.
Previous / Next (Transcript under the cut)
(1.) [Andrea] We are overjoyed to have the three of you as judges. Please, talk amongst yourselves while I check on the chefs.
(2.) N/A
(3.) [Sofia] Wow, everyone is so focused!
[Mia] They're adorable, aren't they? What dish are you looking forward to the most, Sofia?
[Carlo] Nothing in particular catches my attention, thanks for asking.
(4.) N/A
(5.) [Andrea] Chef Alex, tell me, how is it going over here?
[Alex] Great. My potatoes are boiling and I'll make sure to season them well once they're done. Also, I'm sauteing the merguez sausages and keeping a close eye on them.
(6.) [Alex] Andrea is nice and welcoming. I like her a lot.
(7.) [Lewis] It's smooth sailing over here! My vinaigrette is just how I want it to be. I'll get everything else done in a jiffy, except for my croutons. I don't want 'em to get stale.
(8.) [Andrea] Chef Dulce, how are you doing, sweetie?
(9.) [Dulce] It's going really well. I put a lot of thought into the amount of all the ingredients I'm using. Everything needs to complement each other.
(10.) [Rubiya] I couldn't be happier with how my spaghetti is turning out. I drained the pasta when it was still a little undercooked because it's going to keep cooking as I mix in the sauce and other ingredients. I want the texture and flavors to be perfect.
(11.) [Mia] Chefs, you have 5 minutes left on the timer! Make sure you start plating now if you haven't yet.
(12.) [Rubiya] I'm cutting it a bit close, but I got this!
(13.) [Sofia] Chef Alex seems like they're about done. I like their plating.
[Mia] Oh no, I'm concerned about Chef Lewis.
(14.) [Lewis] Oh, no no no no no no no-
(15.) [Lewis] Okay, looks like you CAN mess up a salad. My croutons didn't have that nice golden brown color yet, and with the time running out, I decided to turn up the heat a little. Big mistake. I have burnt croutons now.
(16.) [Alex] Good thing that ain't me.
(17.) [Dulce] Perfect!
(18.) [N/A]
(19.) [Andrea] Hands up, chefs! Your 30 minutes are up. Please come to the front of the judges' table
(20) [N/A]
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mediapen · 1 year
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for anon: carlos, with his life split into two halves. how life feels cut when a major event occurs — before and after — maybe before and after silverstone ‘22?
[x] // richard siken, ‘straw house, straw dog’ // richard siken, ‘unfinished duet’ // [x] // jenefer shute, life-size // [x] // liz bowen, sugarblood // ethel cain, ‘strangers’ // warsan shire, ‘to swim with god' // the smiths, ‘paint a vulgar picture’ // richard siken, ‘saying your names’ // [x] // [x] // [x] // rainer maria rilke in a letter to lou andreas-salomé // phoebe bridgers, ‘garden song’ // [x] // [x] // r/Games // bhanu kapil, the vertical interrogation of strangers // [x] // [x] // [x] // [x] // cota, 2022 // [x] // clementine von radics, 'the fear.’
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sxturdaysun · 10 months
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🔊 double homework, one for sampo one from izaya :3
CHEWS ON BOTH OF THEM thank you i had a lot of fun doing this u//u
🔊: make a playlist between 2-8 songs long for your self ship
con man:
bang bang - k'naan, adam levine
i'm sorry we lied - blood orange
million dollar man - lana del rey
heaven in hiding - halsey
love struck - v factory
male manipulator:
oh, calamity! - all time low
will he - joji
honest - bazzi
pretty venom (interlude) - all time low
cabo - ricky montgomery
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lxndonorris · 2 years
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me, happy about carlos pole: yay
me, seeing so many blogs insulting him instantly:
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vivwritesfics · 7 months
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Sweat, Baby, Sweat - MV1
Singapore is hot, incredibly hot. So, what do you do when you sweat through your shirt? You borrow your simp of a teammates shirt.
Max Verstappen x RB Driver!Reader
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Singapore was Y/Ns favourite track. It was taxing, but it was her favourite. High adrenaline and incredible heat. Anything could happen out there on the track.
If anywhere was going to end Red Bulls reign of dominance, it was Singapore. Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen had worked together, teammates in harmony, to keep the winning streak going.
On the rare instance Max wasn't on the podium, Y/N was in his place. More often than not they shared the podium, spraying the champagne with the biggest grins on their faces.
Only twice that year Y/N had gone out in Q2, not making it to Q3. When that happened, she couldn't face Christian, couldn't look at Max. Nobody was a bigger critic of Y/N than Y/N herself.
Singapore was hot, hot, hot.
As Max and Y/N did those little press videos (for the life of me I can't remember what they're called SOMEONE HELP PLS) Y/N was sweating. Several times while they filmed, she was pulling her shirt away from her neck, trying to get at least a little bit of air.
Sweat beaded on her forehead. She had long since taken off her Red Bull hat, too hot for that extra fabric on her head.
The press video was hard to get through. Y/N had gotten through at least three bottles of water before they finally finished. While they filmed, Max kept looking at her, frown on his face. Clearly, he was concerned.
Actually, all of the Red Bull team was concerned, but none more than him.
As soon as they'd finished filming, Y/N ran off to the bathroom. She did her business, splashed some water on her face and smelt the inside of her shirt.
It wasn't pleasant. The Red Bull shirt was such dark colours, no wonder Y/N was having trouble. She'd have to change before she and Max got on with the next round of press.
Y/N rushed off away from the press and the cameras. She ran by a concerned Max, who tried to grab her by the arm, and past the Red Bull team. "I'll be back in ten minutes," she said to Christian as she ran past.
Y/N made her way back to her hotel room. It wasn't too far away from the track, and she had almost all of her friends (aka, the other drivers) on the same floor as her.
When Y/N first started in F1, driving for Toro Rosso, there was a mixed response from fans. At that point, the fans were mostly older men and their sons. Their reactions were a mix of sexualising her and slut shaming her. Most had fears that she'd distract the rest of the grid by sleeping with them all before every race.
But the F1 Fans had grown used to her. And they loved her. They loved her as much as they loved Carlos and Pierre and Magnussen. They loved her as much as they loved every other driver on the grid.
Once in her hotel room, Y/N got changed into another Red Bull shirt. She didn't have many left, certainly not enough for the next three days of the grand prix (if things were keeping up the way they were).
After getting changed Y/N quickly checked her phone. Messages from Max and Christian, her manager reminding her of the next bit of press she had to do and her parents wishing her luck on the qualifying.
By the time Y/N got down to complete the press interview, she was already sweating. Anxiety bubbled up in side of her. What if she smelt bad? What if the cameras picked up on her pit stains?
Before the interview started, Max nudged her with his elbow. "Is everything okay?" He asked her, keeping his eyes trained forward.
Max had always been considerate when it came to Y/N. He knew what she had been through at the start of her career, the things she had to deal with from the fans. He was more aware than anybody that it was still going on. If Y/N was caught having fun with any of the drivers, they'd ridicule her online.
"Yeah, Max, I'm fine."
Y/N made it through the day in that shirt. She went to bed that night in only her underwear to try and keep cool.
By breakfast that morning she had already begun to sweat. Not through her shirt, not yet. She made it to lunch before she had to get changed.
Before the qualifying, Max pulled her to one side. Out of the prying eyes of any camera, Max grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Once again, she wasn't wearing her hat, making it easier for him.
"Something is going on with you. You keep disappearing," he said to her, not loosening his grip. And he wouldn't until she told him what was going on.
Y/N shook her head. "I'm okay, Max, really."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"Just tell me!"
Letting out a sigh, Y/N looked up at him and pulled his hat from his head. She placed it on her own and smiled. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"
"It's just you."
Max's flirting had been really subtle since Y/N became his teammate. He hadn't wanted to toe the line, didn't want to receive the repercussions of trying to date his teammate.
Qualifying was horrible. Y/N swore in all the years before it had never been this bad. The heat was distracting and she was out in Q2, taken out by Lance fucking Stroll.
Y/N was fuming. There was only one person who could comfort her. And he was currently driving around the circuit with the fastest lap.
Y/N's post qualifying interview was short. She answered every question with one word answers, her face like a slapped ass. As soon as the interview was over she was off to her drivers room to sulk.
She was only granted two minutes to herself before there was a knock on the door. Christian didn't wait for an answer before he walked in. "How are you doing?" He asked her, leaning against the door.
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. It was far too hot to think.
"Well, whatever it is, have it sorted by tomorrow," he continued. "And, come and celebrate with your teammate."
The next day went much the same. Y/N sweated through breakfast and, by the time she got to lunch, she was having to change her shirt.
But there was one problem. She didn't have any shirts she hadn't already sweated through.
With nothing else to do, Y/N tucked her hands into her armpits and walked towards her boss. "Christian," she muttered almost timidly. It wasn't like Y/N to be timid. There wasn't room for it, with her being a woman in the sport.
She took him into her drivers room and made an embarrassing confession. She couldn't look Christian in the face as she told him how much she had been struggling in the heat and that she had no more shirts left.
Christian pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Well, I know for a fact Max has another shirt. I'll go and grab it for you," he said, sparing her the embarrassment of telling somebody else.
When Christian returned with a shirt for Y/N she was quick to change. She put on some more deodorant and pulled Max's shirt over her head. Lifting the collar to her nose she breathed in. Max. It smelled of Max. It smelled amazing.
When she walked out of her drivers room, there were stares. She wasn't much aware of the stares she was getting, her eyes searching for one person and one person only.
Max didn't know what to do when he saw her. The shirt was slightly too big, hanging down to her thighs. It was oversized on her, the short sleeves almost at her elbows. Wow. That was all Max could think. Just wow.
He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He watched as she lifted the collar of the shirt to her nose and smelt it yet again. His heart fluttered. Wow. Just wow.
Y/N turned around and spotted Max hidden behind a team of engineers. She wove her way around the engineers, approaching him. "Thanks for the shirt," she said with a smile.
Max didn't know how to respond. He kept staring at herm unable to take his eyes off of her. It was struggle before she was wearing his clothes, but now Max didn't stand a chance.
When Y/N took his hat from her head, he finally looked at her face. "It suits you," he managed to say. She was irresistible. It was almost too much for him.
No, it was too much for him.
"Fuck it," Max whispered under his breath. He placed his hands on her hip, catching Y/N off guard. Max wasted in time in leaning in. He pressed is lips to hers in a somewhat awkward kiss.
But it didn't take Y/N long to get with the programme. She pulled the hat from her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. Closing her eyes she deepened things, leaning into him.
When she finally pulled away, Max couldn't stop staring at her.
"I've wanted to do that since we became teammates," he whispered, taking the hat from Y/N and placing it on his head.
"What stopped you?"
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beiasluv · 4 months
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yes, and? | f1 d!lfs
a/n: Ariana popped tf off with that house music, but ngl I have mixed feelings abt her allegations. don’t be a homewrecker bitches 😘
aussiegrit
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aussiegrit Ride a Porsche, save a horse…😆 yourinsta
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fernandoalo_official nice caption 🙌🤣
aussiegrit got a smart gal 😊😂
username thatshouldbemeholdjngyourhanddd
username mark and yn are weird. prove me wrong.
username don’t be a hater if she’s having fun
username having sex with someone’s husband is fun?
username ain’t no one saying that yet
username if I see a dilf using the laughing emoji unironically again I will combust
username then I’ve got good news for you..
username ICONIC QUEEN SHITT
username Honestly get that bag gurlll
username Yn is a grown woman, should’ve known not to mingle with an older man
username is it so depressing to see a successful young woman having a fun time?
yourinsta
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yourinsta ride or die (literally) 😙
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jensonbutton careful love
yourinsta will do 🤭
username hang out with people your age
username stay mad, go touch some grass
landonorris we literally drive fast car for life 💀
yourinsta I KNOW 😭😭
yourinsta when are you visiting 😔
landonorris soonn
username ERM Where.
sebastianvettel glad you had fun schatz
yourinsta anytimee 🫶
username sebastian went skiing and no fucking picture. I’m devastated.
username what exactly are you riding 🤭
username she slayed for that
username DONT TAKE TREACHEROUS ROADS
username DONT MAKE UNNECESSARILY JOURNIES
jensonbutton
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jensonbutton off seasonal things 🤣.
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yourinsta slow your horses on drinking mr button
jensonbutton will do love 😉
yourinsta I’ll keep an eye on that.
username taking care of her old man You go girlll
username was this the Santa hat he got from Fernando 😭😭
username it’s also likely that one of them gifted the whiskey as well
username nobody can stop yn and her dilfs on this summer break
username HELL YEAH
username not complaining for the lack of content from the current grid (except Ms gurl herself)
yourinsta
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yourinsta I have no more storage 😔
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sebastianvettel sorry schatz ❤️
yourinsta I maybee forgive you
username grow tf upp
username she got them down bad and you mad??
landonorris why is your phone crustyy
yourinsta I SWEAR IT’S THEMM
yourinsta my selfies ate 🤭
username PERIODDD
username get yourself sweaty old dilfss
jensonbutton deleting is not an option love
aussiegrit buying a new one is
username OH???
username be my sugar daddy please 😩🙏
username Oscar and mick basically cringing at their father figure
username Respect the original rizz gurll
username Sebastian was and still is the original rizz, ask yn 😘
username kimi what are you doing hereeee
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f1gossips
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f1gossips Ricciardo, Vettel, Button, Alonso, and Ln spotted in a holiday in Ibiza, Spain. More attendants to be confirmed.
- admin
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username honestly it’s kinda weird that she keeps on hanging out with the older grid while she is literally a Mercedes driver?
username and what’s wrong with hanging out with people outside the current grid
username idk seems kinda weird to me, older men..
username if she’s getting that bag I respect her cause why tf not?
username homewrecker much?
username desperate much?
username homewrekcerr so coquette 🎀
username you guys don’t get it (I GET HERR)
username Spain… so is Carlos joining??
username and Lando’s comment??
username I swear they need to show tf up
yourinsta
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yourinsta told you my selfies ate 😘
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aussiegrit beautiful sunshine ❤️
yourinsta wish you were heree
aussiegrit I’ll definitely see you soon honey
username never let mark know what a dm is so I can keep reading their texts
username if you look closely into the background you can see me drowning in my tears
username omg same!! twinss
carlossainz55 did you pierced your tongue?
yourinsta no?? why would I do that
username why are they so siblings 😭
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sebastianvettel
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sebastianvettel trip dump or whatever the kids say?
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yourinsta correcto
liked by sebastianvettel
username get away from my mann 😘😘
username ngl you got me in the first half
username can the summer break be longer 😭😩
username I miss the dilf trip already. I have nothing to look forward to anymore
username how to…be…a dog ✍️
f1gossips
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f1gossips Mark Webber and David Coulhart spotted at the Porsche convention, Melbourne, Australia. Lando Norris confirmed in joining the Ibiza trip last week as seen with a fan at a restaurant
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username i know exactly what you are doing by putting mark in this
username so was it Mark??? 🤭🤭
username Mark please comeback 😭
username come back the kids miss you 😩
username so was it true that she fucked one of them?
username WHAT? WHO WHERE WHEN
username it was rumor but idk guessed it would’ve spiraled at the trip
username had a feeling that it was Sebastian 🤷‍♀️
username SAMEE TWINSS
yourinsta
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yourinsta yes, and?
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username OMF MISS QUEENNN
username QUEEN SHIT BITCH
username ITS CONFIRMEDD
username so can I call her ariana now? 💀💀
yall know the drill, interact if you liked it😘😘 let me know who’s your favorite f1 dilf
today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!
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fangirl-dot-com · 30 days
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🐍 Track 2 - . . . Ready for It?
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
I'm sorry to the ones I couldn't tag. If you do want notifications for when I post, there's always that option as well!
Logan had a new phone. And for the first time in a while, it felt nice to just be disconnected from the world for a bit. The people who truly mattered had his phone number. His Instagram had been wiped, along with every other social media. The American had gone dark. 
And apparently you had done the same thing. 
His parents and brother knew where he would be, just in case for emergencies. However, he asked them to not text much. He needed time away, well, away from the current grid. It hurt him, seeing how supportive everyone was with Theo. No one had ever congratulated him when he first got signed. Hell, even Oscar hadn’t known right away, claiming he had forgotten. 
Of course, he had given you his new number because you’d be the only person he previously knew that he’d still be in contact with. You also gave Logan you’re new number, having similar ideas to your friend. 
Well, he had given George his new number. The Briton had texted his old number in a panic-like manner when Logan deactivated everything. Under a temporary contract, Logan wasn’t legally allowed to tell George anything except that he was safe and needed time away. 
The brunet was not happy with that, but he let Logan know that if he needed anything, he would come running. A bit of happiness let itself seep into Logan’s heart, thankful for the Mercedes driver’s friendship. 
When he had read the email after the social media posts went up, his mind blanked. 
What did Andretti want with him? A washed-out jobless nobody. He believes they should have been looking at someone like Carlos or even Ollie, who was making good times in F2 car. It had to be anyone but him. 
So why was it him? 
He had been about to call you when you had first facetimed him on his laptop. He couldn’t even get words about before you started screeching. Logan chuckled as you went on a rant, as this could be their big break. His silence had given you a look into how he was truly feeling. 
Your voice had quieted down on the device. 
“You’re going to take the offer right?” 
Logan winced at your tone, which gave you the information you needed. You rolled your eyes as you sat on your bed. 
“Logan, we were just dropped by two teams that didn’t even want us. They pushed us away like we were nothing. And now, there’s a team with top potential that truly wants us, and you don’t want to take the opportunity?” 
The American boy sighed. You had a point. 
“I’m just scared that I’m going to get there, and then make a fool out of myself. Then Michael is going to see how truly bad of a driver I am,” he hugged out. 
You could hear the fear in his voice, and it devastated you. Where did your confident and smiley boy go? Williams would pay for it, one way or another. 
You were hesitant to say something. 
“Logan, even if our times aren’t what we’re wanting at first, Michael said that we will get better. He’s sent my manager some data and it looks like we are scarily similar with our driving styles. Logan, the car is going to be made for us. Michael made sure that I knew that we’d have a chance, because I’m not driving if you’re not. Together or nothing, we come as a package.” 
Logan sat up quickly off his bed. He glared at you through his laptop.
“You did not just quote Charles Leclerc to me.” 
“And what if I did?”  
“No, you can’t give this offer up if I don’t drive.” 
You glared back at him, although you had a smile. 
“It’s either both of us, or none of us. I’m tired of never seeing you, and you need a friend you can count on. I’m sorry to say but Oscar has done a very shit job of being your friend. I’d say that George is a better friend than him.” 
Logan sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just hard to accept that.” 
Your smile dropped a bit. 
“Logan, he was supposed to be your friend and then he dropped you. Everyone had dropped you so many times and you’ve been the one to pick yourself back up. But now, you’ve been dropped a final time, yet someone wants to be the first to help you back up, to clean your wounds, and to heal you. And now you don’t even want that?” 
You had a point. 
Like always. 
“Your words never seem to fail me woman.” 
“That’s because men are the inferior being.” 
Logan snorted. 
“Will I see you in Milan next week?” you asked with hopeful eyes. Logan could see the glimmer that shined in them. He didn’t want to be the person to damped that. 
“I will see you in Milan.” 
The first thing that popped into Logan’s mind when he got to the base was “Holy Shit.” 
The building was massive as he walked through the giant doors. He really thought that this was a movie set with how grand it was. Surely this couldn’t it? Maybe he had the wrong address. 
“Mr. Sargeant?” 
Or maybe he did. His body turned to the lady standing near the front desk. He showed a smile that was definitely a tad too wide and showed too many teeth. Thankfully the lady didn’t show any malice as she sweetly grinned at the blond. 
“Yes ma’am. That’s me.” 
Always the good southern-hospitality manners with him. 
“I’m glad you could make it. If you’d follow me, Michael is waiting in his office for you.” 
Logan breathed a sigh of relief when he finally knew that he didn’t have to circumnavigate the entirety of the building. 
The air was fresh as he walked behind the lady, who he now knew as Marissa Andretti, Michael’s sister and Head of Directors. Her own American accent was like a comforting blanket to Logan. Gosh, did he miss hearing a familiar voice to his own during 2023. 
The one voice he couldn’t wait to hear was your own. He knew he’d be safe once he heard the lisps of a Southern draw when you talked. The slurred vowels and the biting consonants would be music to his ears. 
“How have you liked the simulator and the data so far?” Marissa asked as she led Logan down yet another hallway. How big was this building and were they leading him to his death? 
Yet, despite his concerns, Logan was very happy with the results. 
“The car is already so fast. It’s like it’s just an extension of me instead of working against me. It feels so right.” 
Technically, Logan had been on the first plane to Milan to start testing, as his own anxiety wouldn’t let him wait until the week was up. You had your own simulator back in the States, so you did your testing there. Logan had been back in London when the email came, and his set up was not going to function with the high tech that Andretti needed. 
Marissa smiled over her shoulder. “Good, that is exactly what we are wanting to hear.” 
Finally, she stopped in front of a door that had a giant-ass A on the front. Logan wanted to laugh at the cinematics. Surely, this was a movie and he was going to be the main character. Marissa pushed a button and the door slowly swung open. 
Logan’s smile grew once he saw you in one of the very plush seats in front of the desk. You immediately stood up and jumped into his arms. He breathed deeply and all weight slowly melted from his body. It had been so long since he had gotten to hug you, hold you, feel you. 
When you pulled away, you had a blinding smile on your face. 
“Glad to see you here Logs.” 
His nose scrunched at the old nickname. 
“I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were 12, Y/n.” 
You huffed. 
“Fine, no nickname for you.” 
“I take it back. I ban you from calling me Logan.” 
“Isn’t that your name?” 
“No?” 
“Logs!” 
“Ah there it is!” 
A cough signaled to Logan that they weren’t actually alone. He sheepishly turned around to face the man who, hopefully after this meeting, would be his boss for a couple of years. Logan turned his full body towards the desk and stepped with his hand outstretched. 
Michael had a knowing smile as he shook Logan’s hand. 
“I am so sorry sir, I didn’t even realize that you were already here, and I haven’t seen her in a while, and it’s so good to just here the accents because the grid is entirely too European and Asian, sometimes I couldn’t even understand them, and…” 
Michael put his hands on Logan’s shoulders. 
“It’s just fine kid. I totally get you.” 
Logan visibly relaxed under Michael’s hands. 
“Now, why don’t you sit down and we can start talking contracts.” 
Logan lit up at the word. 
“Contracts?”
You gave him a smirk. 
“Yes Logs, contracts.” 
Logan felt as though he couldn’t breathe. But this time, it was with excitement and not dread. His butt quickly found the seat next to yours. Marissa left the room with promises of coming back with celebratory drinks. 
Michael pulled out two small stacks of paper before he started speaking. 
“So, I’ve talked with both of your managers and we’ve come up with a contract. You two can look over it as I read the big details. The finer print is stuff that you both have already previously gone over, but you are still encouraged to look over it one final time.”
You and Logan had the same exact papers. 
In the initial emailing process, the two of you had voiced that you were a packaged deal. Logan was surprised to see that Michael had said that he wouldn’t want it any other way and was glad to possibly not have to deal with drivers hating each other. Logan thought anything would be better than Brocedes 2016. 
You looked down at the words as Michael read them out loud. 
“Ok, so in the contract, the two of you will be signed until 2027. There is an exit clause in section C, but we are not allowed to terminate prior to 2027. The two of you will be granted ambassadorship with whatever sponsors we’ve received. The sponsorships are in section E and it gives a rundown of each one and what they will be contributing to the team. 
“Per secrecy of wanting to keep the identities secret until we reach the grid for testing, the two of you will go under pseudonyms.” 
You raised an eyebrow. 
“Like a call sign?” 
Marissa flashed a wicked grin. 
“Exactly like a call sign.” 
You continued, “Do we get to come up with them?” 
Michael clasped his hands. “So we thought that Y/n could go by Phoenix and then Logan would go Venus.” 
Your eyes widened as you took in the name. Wasn’t too bad, you thought. 
Logan let out a sigh of relief. “At least it’s not like Eagle or something. That would be super obvious.” 
The boss-man chuckled before he looked back down at the contract. 
“Since the two of you did not specify a salary, we took the liberty to come up with one ourselves. But please feel free to mention what you’d like and we can always raise it. We also liked to put in that for every point scored, the two of you get a bonus as a little incentive. The salary will not be dropped no matter if points are scored or not. Think of it as a baseline.” 
Michael chuckled as he watched yours and Logan’s eyes drastically widen at the sight of the eight digits before the decimal. Logan gulped at the sight. 
“Michael, I think you added too many zeros.” 
“I think I didn’t add enough.” 
Logan couldn’t respond. 
You looked up from the paper to Michael. “I think it’s high enough.” 
The goateed-man smiled back at you and continued. 
“I’ve seen the skills parts on your resumes and thankfully the two of you do not need to learn Italian from scratch. I don’t even know when the two of you had time to learn it, but thankfully it is not required in meetings or in the garage.” 
Logan smirked as he looked at the words. 
“What’s the fun in that? We can have secret conversations with ourselves.” 
You tapped his shoulder. 
“Except Ferrari will know and maybe Lewis.” 
“I’ll have my Duolingo account at the ready.” 
Michael watched as the two of you pored over the papers and bickered like an old married couple. He and Marissa already had a bet going to see when the two of you would get together. But, you didn’t need to know that.
“I digress. You can speak in Italian if you want to. The next couple of sections are just PR related. The two of you wanted to bring you own teams in, which is fine. I’ve sent emails and meeting times to each of them and have been replied to. All is in motion. Logan, you mentioned something to me once about your personal trainer leaving?” 
A sigh left his lips at the mention of Benny. He really didn’t want anyone else. He slowly nodded. 
“He had to leave to be with his family. Williams wasn’t the most accommodating and he was told that he had to be at every race. Normally I didn’t even need him until race day. He’d miss so much time with his family because of traveling and things like that.” 
“Well, I think we have you covered.” 
Logan looked back down at the paper. A small gasp left his lips. 
Ben Jacobs was written in black ink under “Personal Trainer.” 
“How?” 
Michael smiled. 
“It took some convincing, but he said he’d come back for you. Of course, Ben will be highly compensated to return after he said he wouldn’t. His family will also be accommodated for any race that they’d like to attend and Ben can show up however late he needs. His leave will also be paid time as well.” 
Logan could kiss the man if he could. Tears pooled in his eyes and he could only manage a small thank you. Your hand rested on his shoulder in comfort. He just couldn’t wait to see him again. 
“Looks like that is everything. Are you two ready to sign?” 
Yours and Logan’s heads nodded eagerly as pens were uncapped. There was light scratching for a few moments as you filled out the needed information on the multiple sheets of paper. Once everything was completed, you let out a sigh of relief. You and Logan could finally do this. 
Marissa showed up at the right moments with a few different beverages. You took one of the iced americanos, claiming that Italian espresso was, in fact, the best kind. Logan surprised you as he took a mimosa. 
He side-eyed you. 
“It’s freshly squeezed orange juice and you cannot go wrong with it. It’s a classic.”
You held you drink up and your other hand in mock surrender. 
Michael took a black coffee and sipped it. 
“Now, onto the fun stuff.” 
Your eyebrows pinched. “Fun stuff?” 
Michael smirked before pulling up a projector that was attached to his laptop. He started to click through the slides. 
“First, the car.” 
On the slide was a sleek yellow and black livery. The black really highlighted the tamer yellow. 
Michael pointed at it. 
“This is our 2024 livery. We designed it awhile back, but it’s finally going to be used.” 
You let out a whistle as a video played the engine noise. To you, it sounded fast. You had been able to do a few laps with an actual car to get the feel of it since IndyCar were so much different. Michael claimed though that you were a natural in the car, being able to command it to what you needed it to do. Logan was quite the same. 
The next slide showed multiple models of Lamborghinis. With it came a smirk from the sister and brother pair. 
Logan looked at them. 
“I don’t know whether to be excited about the smirks or nervous.” 
Marissa was the one to pull up something on her personal iPad. She showed the official Lamborghini website. 
“Because the two of you will now technically ambassadors for Lambo as well, you two need to pick out what models the two of you would like to own. For now, we can start with one, but Tonino wanted his drivers to start a small collection.” 
You made her pause. 
“Tonino, as in, Tonino Lamborghini?” 
Marissa sent a gentle smile to calm you down. 
“Yes. Mr. Tonino will be at quite a few races to watch. He has mentioned wanting to see Ferrari fail, but our data is saying that although we look promising, there’s not guarantee.” 
Logan exhaled sharply. 
“No pressure right?” 
Michael leaned forward over the desk. 
“Listen to me Logan. You have been with a team that has now destroyed every bit of self-confidence. Mr. Tonino is actually the one who put your name on my radar. If you’re good enough for him, you need to believe that you’re good enough for everyone else.” 
Logan was taken back. Mr. Tonino was the one to bring him up? He felt honored in a good way. A nod of his head let Michael and Marissa know that they could continue. Logan turned your way, only to find you already smiling at him. He hoped that he could always be on the receiving end of that smile. 
Marissa continued where she left off. 
“Just look over the models and customize it however you’d like. We’ll get it sent to the factory to be made in time for the first race in Bahrain. These cars will be shipped along with our supplies so you can always have them.” 
You smirked. “I’ve always wanted a black Lamborghini Aventador.” 
Logan turned to Marissa. “I’d love a black Lamborghini Huracan.” 
A smile grew on your face. “Aw, Logan. We’ll get matching Lambos.” 
Logan thought that if you had been an emoji, you’d be the one with the big teary eyes and a pout. Marissa looked pleased at the requests for the different models. 
You raised your hand. “Do we need to start looking for places to stay here in Milan?” 
Michael lifted his eyebrows. 
“You don’t actually. Between races, the two of you are more than welcome to either go home or adventure somewhere. We will let you know when it is crucial to come back here to do some testing. Housing is provided when you need to be here. There are multiple estates that can be used on bought property.” 
You and Logan definitely liked the sound of that. Maybe you could stay in close villas or something. Or maybe in the same place as you tended to get lonely. That’s what being pushed out of everything does to someone in a year. You can’t remember the last time that you were invited to do something with the team, always retreating to your small hotel room after a race. You feel as though Logan might feel the same. 
Michael moved to the next slide, showing the race suits. 
“These are the suits for the season. Black or white fireproofs will go well with them. Helmets are up to the two of you. You will need on standard for some races and then you can choose what races you want fun ones to be. Miami, Austin, Las Vegas, and Imola are going to be considered our home races.” 
“What about Monza?” Logan questioned. 
Michael had a glint in his eyes. 
“That will forever belong to the Tifosi I’m afraid.” 
You decided to pipe up. 
“Or Charles Leclerc. I feel like wherever he goes, the Tifosi goes with him. You make him trade teams, the Italians will follow him.” 
Logan shot you a teasing look. 
“You always have to bring him up in one way or another.” 
You shrugged. 
“He’s a good driver. Let’s not bring up that you’re such a fanboy for Max Verstappen of all people.” 
Logan’s torso shifted. 
“It’s not every day that one beats Sir Lewis Hamilton and take away his 8th championship!” 
Laughs erupted from Michael and Marissa, making you and Logan pause. You cleared your throat. 
“Sorry, please continue.” 
Michael went a bit further with the slides, going over compatible data to the car. He went over sponsors and things like that before he finally leaned back into his chair. 
“Are we able to drive the cars today?” 
Much like you were, Logan was itching to be back behind the wheel. And hopefully, the wheel belonged to a reliable car. 
Michael stood from where he sat, making you and Logan also rise to your feet. 
“I’d thought you’d never ask,” he said, making his way to the door. When the two of you didn’t follow, he turned back around. 
“Are you ready for it?” 
lamborghini_racing has posted
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Lamborghini_racing Are you ready for it?
liked by y/n.nation, logang2, box_box_express, and 4,205,095 others
l4mbo.child a hello or how are you doing WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE
f1_fan I fear they have gagged the entire grid with this
ferrariforza damn, I thought we had the best livery - sorry kings 👑
lambo_drivers all I'm asking is who is going to be driving this beast?
lo-girlies do I even utter his name in fear that it might not happen?
y/nfan or even utter her name?
thepaddock_person who 🤨
childofF1 I'll say it - LOGAN AND Y/N FOR LAMBO 2024
box_box_express the paint, the yellow, the black, the lighting, THE EVERYTHING
taylorswiftxf1 I see the admin is a Taylor fan??
phoenix95 has posted
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phoenix95 baby let the games begin
liked by venus2, Lamborghini_racing, y/n.nation, dior, and 2,195,086 others
4theF1_girlies EXCUSE MEEEEEEE
driver95 ayo - we got the Lightning McQueen number with a queen
lambo_duo oh gosh I hope I live to see the day that they reveal their drivers
venus2 looking snazzy 😎
phoenix95 no one ever says that anymore
venus2 🥺
phoenix95 fine...thank you
venus2 🥰
venusxphoenix WHOEVER THEY ARE - THEY HAVE MY HEART
rising_phoenix95 immediate fan
lambo_child the Aventador is such a slay 💅
lambof1 I wonder if they have like matching cars with their contracts
venus2 has posted
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venus2 let the games begin now
liked by phoenix95, marissa_andretti, Lamborghini_racing, and 4,205,850 others
lambof1 I THINK I CALLED IT?? THE MATCHING BLACK CARS
pitstop_nightmare I'M SORRY FERRARI BUT THIS IS TOO SEXY
lamborghinivsferrari THE HURACAN 🥵😱
c16_leclerc I'm guessing they went to Charles's school of serving cunt
hamilton44lewis and graduated with a degree in slay
phoenix95 that's sexy baby
venus2 thanks 😚
phoenix95 ...I was talking about the car?
venus2 sure...sure you were 😈
box_box_express I feel like I have some sleuthing to do - hold please
logansarg2 I miss Logan so much - it's heartbreaking to see all of his accounts go dark, I guess I'll have to stan this dude instead
y/n.nation I miss our girl so much
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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scuderiahoney · 1 month
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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion pt 2
hockey au part 2: a lil backstory, Max Verstappen’s Pizza Theory, breakfast for dinner, and the beginnings of a physics study club. 5.7k words
warnings: mentions of sports related injuries, alcohol, and a creepy guy at a party.
You met Lando your freshman year, in an intro level writing class. Lando Norris may be great at hockey, but he was and still is absolutely atrocious at writing, which you discovered quickly when you’d been paired up with him for a partner project. He was the most talkative person in the whole class, and also the most likely to fall asleep. You couldn't blame him. It was an 8 am class, and from what you could tell, he had early morning hockey practices nearly every day.
He’d noticed the Timberwolves Soccer sticker on your laptop case, the one you’d been picking at the edges of at any available moment, trying to peel it off. It wouldn’t budge. He’d tried to use that as a common interest, a way to make a connection. He hadn’t known how much of a touchy subject it was. How could he have? The two of you barely knew each other's names.
You’d been angry at the world, at the time. Fresh off a life changing injury, still dealing with the physical therapy afterwards and stuck feeling like it was all so painfully obvious due to the knee brace on your leg. You’d only come to the stupid school to play on the soccer team, anyways. A month into your freshman year, injured and off the roster, with your chances of ever playing again looking bleak, you’d had a hard time trying to find a new reason to be there.
Before you met Lando, the soccer team had been your main source of friends. When you got injured, it all went to shit. At first, you hadn’t blamed them for the distance. You were dealing with something none of them even wanted to think about. But when you had to have surgery and none of them even bothered to text and check in, you’d begun to feel bitter. It had felt so lonely, in a town where you knew nobody, and the few people you’d connected with had slipped away. Lando had helped change that. His team had helped change that.
By the time you had to have a second surgery during winter semester, you’d been fully adopted by the entire Timberwolves Hockey team. They’d sent cards and flowers that filled up the room. Lando had visited every day, at least one of his teammates in tow. Max hadn’t been team captain at the time, but he’d taken the lead on getting a schedule set up to have people help carry your things to class for you while you were on crutches. You’d found a family, a reason to stay at the school, even without your beloved sport. You’d never be able to thank them enough for it.
Now you’re in your junior year of college and sitting in the stands at a hockey game instead of on the field at a soccer game, but the people on the ice are all your best friends. They’re losing, quite terribly, if you’re being honest. The stands are half empty. They’re just… off, today, in the second game of the week. Not quite in sync. You can see the frustration on all of them even from all the way up in the stands. Charles and Carlos are bickering on the bench. Max is skating messily. Lando looks lost on the ice, like his skates have a mind of their own. Even Oscar is struggling.
When the buzzer sounds for the end of the game, you stand up from your seat and head outside. Lily’s not here tonight- she has to work- so you’re on your own as you head toward the house. You text Max and ask if you should order pizza. He replies with an enthusiastic yes, a list of requests, and $100 on Venmo.
You have the pizza waiting, along with paper plates and Gatorade, by the time the first one of them walks into the house. It’s Oscar. He shuffles into the kitchen and looks at the pizza boxes with a wrinkled nose.
“Are you guys having a party?” He asks.
You sort of hate the way he says it. You guys. Like it’s not his house. Like it’s not his team. You know the feeling, really, of sort of just drifting along with nothing to cling onto. You tilt your head at him and slide a bottle of Gatorade across the counter towards him.
“No,” you say, and his shoulders relax slightly. “Usually after a tough game, Max likes to do some sort of team bonding. So. Pizza. He didn’t tell you?”
Oscar shrugs. “He probably did. Dunno. I was kind of out of it, and I snuck out as soon as the coaches were done yelling.”
You wince and nod in understanding. “I used to be the same way after bad games.”
You don’t even realize what you’ve hinted at until his head jerks up from where he’s been staring at the bottle in front of him. “You play sports?”
You chew on the inside of your cheek. You suppose he’ll hear the story eventually, but maybe now isn’t the best time. Maybe he doesn’t need your pity party while he’s trying to have his own. Maybe it’s nice that he doesn’t feel bad for you, just confused by you and your constant presence around the hockey team.
“Used to,” you say. When his face flickers with confusion, you hand him a paper plate. “Have some pizza. Captain’s orders.”
He stands there, staring, looking so unsure.
“You can take it up to your room if you really want, I won’t tattle” you say, and he twists his mouth. “Honestly, though? I hate to watch you guys lose, but sometimes these nights are some of the best. You should stick around.”
He pulls a piece of pepperoni pizza from the box and sets it on the plate. Then he takes a seat at one of the kitchen island barstools. You hope he doesn’t hear your sigh of relief.
An hour later, the kitchen, dining room, and back deck are full of people, and they’re all complaining about the game. Charles and Carlos are at the table, no longer angry with each other, instead complaining about a defenseman on the other team. Lando’s draped over Alex’s shoulder, loudly fake crying over god knows what. Oscar’s on Alex’s other side, laughing loudly at Lando’s dramatics.
You’re pouring drinks for the three of them- you’d offered when you noticed the empty cups. It’s not a party, but the alcohol helps numb the bitter feeling of a bad game. Max is standing nearby, looking proud. He elbows you.
“Pizza theory,” he says, raising his eyebrows.
You laugh. “Yeah, Max. Another one for the pizza theory.”
He’s had this running… experiment, of sorts, for a couple years now. It started after a string of bad games your freshman year, his sophomore year. He’d pointed out that when the team had pizza together after a loss, the next game was always a win. So he’d begun trying things out and writing down the results- you’ve seen the Google document, now co-organized by Charles. Pizza leads to wins almost 95% of the time. Chinese sits at a healthy 70%. They tried Subway one time and all got so sick off of it they nearly had to cancel the next game, so they never tried again.
You’ve told him before that you don’t think it’s really about the pizza- it’s about the time spent together, and the space to be just teammates again. It’s not like they’re apologizing or talking strategy, but put a bunch of greasy food in front of them and they’ll start to unwind. Mend bridges. Build new ones, even, you think, as you watch Oscar and Alex chat, heads leaned close together.
They win the next game by one point. It’s an away game, but you watch it from your apartment with Lily and a couple other friends, grinning the whole way through. You have pizza in honor of Max’s theory. Charles nearly tackles Oscar onto the ice when he scores. When the camera zooms in on the smiles on both of their faces, your heart melts. Lando howls like a wolf at the end of the game, which is simultaneously endearing and cringe inducing. When they get back to the hotel, he FaceTimes you from the elevator. It’s full of hockey boys with big grins on their faces. Max, hair still dripping wet from the shower, his arm slung around Lando, is smiling brightest of them all.
“Pizza theory!” he yells, and you can’t fight a grin in return.
“Pizza theory indeed,” you reply.
Oscar’s head pops up on the screen. You can only see his eyes and forehead, and he seems to know, because he wiggles his brows. It makes you laugh.
“What’s pizza theory?” He asks.
“You have much to learn, young grasshopper,” Lando quips.
“We’ll show you the Google doc later,” Charles promises. “Right now, we are going to the pool.”
…..
Oscar doesn’t join in the game afterparties for weeks. You don’t take it personally, but you do wonder why he doesn’t want to celebrate with his team. You even ask Lando to make sure he knows he’s invited. Your friend just looks at you like you’re crazy, which you suppose you are.
In the end, the party he does show up at isn’t even one after a game. It’s a bye week, and Seb gives them Saturday night off of practice, so they throw what starts out as a hangout and quickly morphs into a full on party. There are people spilling out into the lawn. Lando’s in charge of the music and taking it very seriously. And Oscar is in the kitchen, chatting with Alex over their red plastic cups. It’s an odd sight, but a welcome one. You’re trying not to stare.
Instead, you’re standing nearby, listening to Charles and Carlos argue. It’s over something stupid, you’re pretty sure- it almost always is. Max is standing next to you, hiding his amusement behind his own plastic cup. The three of them have a weird dynamic. Charles and Carlos have known each other for a while- they played together on a team before they started college. Max and Charles go farther back, though. They’re childhood rivals turned captain and alternate captain. They’re all oddly competitive over who likes who more or less. It’s entertaining, to say the least.
You’re really only half listening, using them to take appropriate breaks from watching Oscar. You’d tried to convince yourself you were just keeping an eye on him at first, that you were making sure he was okay and having fun. Now, two drinks deep, you’ve stopped making excuses in your own head. You just like the way he looks in the glow of Lando’s cheesy LED light strips. They’re purple tonight. Oscar’s cheekbones are painted purple because of it. You know there are freckles there, dotting his skin. You wish you were close enough to see them.
Eventually, you leave the guys to their arguing, tear your eyes from Oscar, and start to wander the party. There’s a lot going on, and there are a lot of people in the house that you’ve never met before. That happens, at these sort of events, you’ve found. The unplanned ones end up being an odd mix of people. So when you find yourself leaning against a wall and a guy you don’t recognize comes up to talk to you, you’re not exactly surprised. When he plants his hand next to your head on the wall, though, that does surprise you.
“I hear they call you Bunny,” he says, leering over you.
You hate the way he uses the nickname, the way it sounds on his lips. He leans close, caging you in. You swallow tightly, trying to peer over his shoulder and spot any one of your friends. It’s no use. He’s tall and broad and blocking your view. You say a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that one of your friends notices your absence.
“My friends do, yeah,” you say, hoping he takes the hint. “Actually, I have to go find-“
He cuts you off when he leans closer. You press yourself back against the wall. You can smell the cheap beer on his breath. Your heart pounds in your chest. Fight or flight or freeze, time to choose.
“Come on, sweetie,” the guy says. “Be a good bunny and-“
Someone’s hand clamps down on his shoulder. That’s all you see before he’s ripped away from you. It’s like you can breathe again, suddenly, relief flashing through your brain like the purple lights in the kitchen. It’s followed quickly by concern, though, when you catch sight of what’s going on.
Oscar has him pinned against the wall, one hand on his shoulder, his other fist cocked back, elbow bent, ready to throw a punch. There’s fury on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Oscar doesn’t really fight. Not now, not at his previous team, not before then, either. You know it because Lando mentioned it when talking about how levelheaded he was. Plus, there are no helmets or pads to protect him here. Just him and his apparent anger.
“Mate,” Max says, carefully, appearing almost out of thin air. “Cool down, yeah?”
Oscar grits his teeth and clenches his jaw. You blink widely at the sight in front of you. Max’s eyes flicker to you, to the way you’re huddled against the wall, and understanding washes over his face.
“Piastri,” Max says, which seems to clear a bit of the fog from Oscar's head. The younger teammate turns to look at his captain and falters slightly. “I think you’ve proved your point.”
Oscar takes it for what it is- a thinly veiled command. Fighting on the rink is one thing. Fighting at a party they’re definitely not supposed to be having is another. Once they’re in motion, fights are difficult to stop, even harder to control, really. It'll get out of hand, so, so quickly. Seb would have their heads on a silver platter, and Max is always responsible for the actions of the team- it comes with being captain. He drops his fist and backs away slightly. Max nods.
The guy sneers at you, then Oscar, and then he spits on the floor near your feet. “Dumb bitch-“
In the blink of an eye, he’s pinned back to the wall, this time by Max, both hands on each of his shoulders. He tosses a look over his shoulder at Oscar.
“Get her out of here?” He says, and Oscar nods frantically.
He takes your hand, gentle as ever. You follow along nearly blindly as tears begin to well up in your eyes. Oscar weaves through the crowd, a man on a mission, and heads for the stairs. You dodge a couple who are making out on the top step, and he makes his way to his bedroom. They keep the rooms locked during parties- he punches his code in and ushers you inside. You nearly laugh through your tears when you see number 44, Lewis Hamilton, staring down from the poster on the wall. You wonder if Oscar knows he and Lando have matching ones.
He sits you down on the bed, reaching to turn on the lamp. He moves around the room quickly, and he tosses you a hoodie from his drawer, which you pull over your head gratefully. You hadn’t noticed until then how you had your own arms wrapped around your body, like you were hiding. You shake your hands out, flexing your fingers, trying to get the feeling back in them.
He sighs and reaches for the door. “Okay. You’re okay. Just- I’ll close the door behind me and-“
“Where are you going?” You ask, suddenly feeling panicky. You think it’s clear just from the sound of your voice, too.
“To get Lando,” he says, freezing in place, hand on the doorknob as he looks at you.
You sniffle. “Max will find him. Could you- can you- I don’t want to be alone, really, so-“
“Fuck. Shit. Sorry,” Oscar says.
Then he does the last thing you’d have expected. He sits down on the bed next to you, close enough to touch, and then wraps an arm around your shoulders. You gasp at the feeling, but lean into it, feeling a bit of relief running down your spine. His hand covers your whole shoulder.
“Is this okay?” He whispers, and you nod. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t really think about it.”
“It’s okay,” you answer, unsure what he’s even apologizing for- almost leaving or touching you. Either way, it’s fine.
The two of you sit there in the relative quiet for a minute or two. Downstairs, the music is loud as ever. Oscar’s hand is heavy on your shoulder, and you’re still a bit stuck in fight or flight mode. Maybe you’re just frozen, really. You can still smell the beer on the other guy’s breath, can still see the anger on Oscar’s face, can still feel the panic when he was about to leave you. Your chest is tight, fingertips still buzzing.
“Were you actually going to punch him?” You ask, breaking the silence in the room, trying to find something to distract yourself.
Oscar huffs. “The first time, probably not. But when he called you a…” he shrugs. “If Max hadn’t been there…”
You turn to look at him. “Why?”
He blinks, almost taken aback that you’d even ask. “You know. Take care of the team and all.”
You sniffle. “But I’m not on the team.”
“Might as well be, all the time you spend here.”
“Yeah, but…” you trail off. “You don’t… you don’t care about me. You- why would you get into a fight for me?”
He’s quiet for a moment. You’re waiting for the canned answer. Because nobody else was around. Because I knew it’d earn me brownie points with the rest of the team. Because-
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “For making you feel like I didn’t care.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. His hand squeezes your shoulder. Your heart squeezes in your chest. You hadn’t meant for this to go this direction, and now your face is hot and your throat hurts and there are tears welling up behind your closed eyelids.
“I just… I showed up here, and everyone already has their friend groups and buddies and-“ he huffs again, and realization starts to dawn on you. “And they all love you, and they’re super protective of you. And I’ve been so busy trying to find my place here and not step on any toes, I guess I forgot to try and make friends, too, you know?”
You sigh. “I don’t bite, you know. I’m very easy to be friends with. I can be low maintenance if that’s what you need. Or- what’s Lando call it? Low frequency?”
Oscar laughs. “I know.”
You turn to look up at him, and your breath hitches when he reaches up and wipes a couple tears from your cheeks. An hour ago, you thought he couldn’t care less about you. Now you’re sitting in his room, and he’s wiping away tears with a tender touch that makes your stomach ache. His eyes trace your face, like he’s looking for injury, for a source of the pain. It’s overwhelming.
“Okay. So stop ignoring me in class? And in general?” You say, trying to redirect things.
He groans, dropping his chin to his chest. “That was- it wasn’t even on purpose, I just didn’t notice and then when I did it felt too late to say anything, so-“
You break off into a fit of giggles. He drops his arm from around your shoulder, and you miss the warmth immediately. You try not to let it show as he drags his hands over his face and echoes your laughter with his own. When you lean against his shoulder, your side pressed to his, he stays steady and lets you do it.
“It’s okay,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “Fresh start, yeah?”
He nods. You stick your hand out to him. He laughs and wraps his own around yours, shaking firmly.
“Awesome. Because I have a feeling you’re smart,” you say. “And I’m seriously going to fail our physics class unless you help me.”
Oscar laughs, and the way it takes over his whole body makes you smile. His head bumps against yours, but you can’t even find it in you to mind. It’s enough that he’s laughing around you.
“Okay, but you have to help me, too,” he says, hand still wrapped with yours, and he squeezes it. “I wanna fit in here. I mean, I’m not even from this continent, you know. So trying to find my place has been…”
Your heart aches for him. Suddenly it all makes sense. You know the feeling of being an outsider all too well. So you smile and nod and shake his hand again. “Deal.”
Lando comes and finds the two of you only a few minutes later. He knocks on the door, and Oscar opens it just a crack before he lets his teammate in. He leaves the two of you with a quick nod, seeming to understand that his job here is done. Lando takes you back to his room a few minutes later, his arm around your waist and his head knocking against yours. You pass Max in the hallway, who exchanges a look with Lando and reaches out to squeeze your arm. You’re sure he’ll interrogate you tomorrow to make sure you’re feeling okay.
Lando doesn’t even question the fact that Oscar was the one to take care of you- you suppose to him, it just makes sense. Teammates looking out for teammates, or in this case, their teammate’s friend. He just checks in on you, cleans up the last few tears from your face, and then suggests you stay the night. You don’t exactly want to go back downstairs and through the party, so you agree. You change into a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, though you keep Oscar’s sweatshirt and put it back on, too. Lando gives you the bed and pulls out the air mattress that he keeps on hand for this, and the two of you fall asleep to the sound of the bass shaking the walls of the house.
…..
The family dinner the next day is loosely breakfast themed. The guys are all dead in the morning, so you take it upon yourself to go do the shopping. And for that, you drag along your trusty assistant, Logan Sargeant. He’s one of few people on the team with his driver’s license, since so many of them are international students and never bothered getting one, and he has a car. Besides that, he’s a rookie, and he’s contractually obligated -meaning Max has politely asked him- to help you whenever you ask. He picks you up in his tiny Toyota, and then you’re off to the grocery store.
He carries the list while you stroll the aisles. “I’ve never heard of literally half the stuff on this list,” he says.
You roll your eyes. “That’s because you’re uncultured.”
You reach up on one of the shelves, snagging a jar with a yellow lid and label. He checks it off the list, brow furrowed.
“I thought this was breakfast for dinner night,” he adds, scrunching his nose up.
You turn to him, giving him an exasperated sigh. “It is. There’s just… a secondary theme. Don’t worry, my American boy, you’ll get your omelette.”
“Omelettes are French!” He cries out, huffing as you start to walk down the aisle, away from him. “The word is literally French!”
“Whatever you say, Miami,” you tease. “What’s next on the list?”
You buy Logan a coffee from a local place on your way back as a thank you for his help. In return, he tells you he forgives you for your comments about him being American. When you pull up to the house, you can see Lando and Charles in the living room. They come outside quickly, ready to help carry the bags in.
You head for the kitchen, one very specific bag in hand. When you walk in, you find Oscar, perched on a barstool, head pressed against his fist as his elbow rests on the counter. Max is on the phone in the dining area, chatting away loudly in another language. You can tell Oscar has a headache, just from the look on his face.
“You’re just the guy I was looking for,” you say, brightly but not too loud.
He blinks a couple times, then points at himself. “I’m an awful cook, if that’s what you’re implying.
You laugh and shake your head. “No, no- not that. But it’s breakfast night, right? So-“ you pull a jar of Vegemite out of the bag and set it down on the counter. “I got this. And then I went a little crazy in the international aisle of the grocery store. Oh, and I got sprinkles? The internet said something about fairy bread and I’m intrigued-“
You pause when he reaches for the jar, and his fingers brush yours. When you look up, there’s a look on his face you don’t quite recognize. It’s almost unbearably soft. You pull your hand out from under his so he can take the jar.
“You got Australian snacks,” he says, so quietly and almost reverently. “You…”
You shrug. “We talked about finding your place. One of the best ways I’ve found to do that is to tell people a little bit about yourself. It doesn’t have to be deep, could just be…”
He leans up and peeks in the bag, and his eyes go wide as he gasps, “TimTams!”
You laugh. “Yeah, could just be TimTams.”
He grins up at you, big and wide and so, so endeared. It’s a whole different side of him. You feel unbelievably proud of yourself for the idea.
Lando comes into the kitchen, hands full of bags. “Yeah, thanks, guys, we don’t need help.”
Charles is right behind him. “It’s fine, actually- hey, you bought Oscar cookies?”
Oscar hugs the package to his chest, suddenly possessive. You laugh and reach into one of the bags Lando is holding. In your hand is another package of TimTams.
“I got two of everything,” you tell Oscar. “To share and to keep.”
He smiles again, and lets the TimTams fall from his chest. “You all have to try one.”
Max gets off the phone and helps unpack things, setting out the stuff he’ll need for dinner tonight. You watch on with a fond smile as Oscar introduces all the snacks to anyone who’s willing to listen. Lando, Logan, and Charles sit with rapt attention as Oscar tells them childhood stories about all the snacks. Meanwhile, Max starts making pancake batter, and you start prepping the other ingredients.
Max elbows you lightly as the other guys laugh together. “You did good.”
You smile at him, shrugging. “We had a nice talk last night.”
Max cocks his head, smiling softly. “Before or after he tried to punch a guy out for you?”
Your face heats up at the comment, and you look away from Max and back to the food in front of you. “Last I remember, you had that guy pinned to the wall.”
Max makes a noncommittal noise. “I should’ve let Oscar punch him.”
You want to argue. To tell him that you’re not worth the trouble of that, and that he was right to tell Oscar to back off and send both of you away. But when you look up at him, the look on his face is a mixture of concern and determination. You blink, and he nudges his shoulder against yours.
“He deserved to be punched,” Max says, and you shrug. “And if you ever see him again, you call one of us. And maybe at the next party, you-“
“I’m fine,” you insist, picking up a plate and heading for the dining table. “Promise.”
More and more teammates file in, and now Lando’s the one forcing them to try TimTams, and encouraging Oscar to tell a story about being 5 and eating them in a pool, or something along those lines. You listen, even with your back turned, and hope that this helps Oscar feel a little bit more at home.
Later, after dinner, while everyone else is cleaning up, Oscar finds you in the living room. He holds out a plate. On top of it, laid out perfectly and carefully, are three TimTams.
“You didn’t try any earlier,” he says. He shifts on his feet when you take the plate. “I wanted to say thank you. Again.”
You smile up at him, laying your book on your chest. “Not a problem, Piastri. It was the least I could do, after you helped me last night.”
He frowns slightly, nose wrinkling up in mild disgust. “You know you don’t owe me for that, right?”
You nod as you pick up a TimTam off the plate. “But I can still say thank you. So. Thank you, again.”
He nods, and his face goes soft when you take a bite of the cookie and look up at him. It’s like he’s waiting with bated breath, desperate to know if you like them or not. You break out into a wide grin at the taste and nod eagerly up at him.
“Yeah, okay,” you say, eyeing the cookies on the plate. “I get the obsession.”
He laughs, nodding in agreement. One of your arms is resting on the back of the couch, and as if on reflex, he brushes his hand against yours. His skin is warm and soft. Your breath catches in your chest.
He backs away to disappear upstairs, then, with a soft “Goodnight,” that you echo, but not before you catch the tinge of red on his cheeks.
…..
In physics class on Monday, you watch Oscar waver in the doorway. He takes a stilted step towards the seat he normally sits in, across the lecture hall, and then he stops. You blink in confusion, taking a sip of coffee from your travel mug. He seems to take a breath, and then he turns- you pretend you’re not watching as he walks towards you instead. You pretend your heart isn’t racing as he walks up next to you. It shouldn’t be racing. Why is your heart racing?
“Is this seat taken?” He asks, politely, quietly, like it’s the first day of class.
You bite back a laugh when you look up at him, because his cheeks are red and he looks so, so proud of himself. “It’s open,” you say, smiling up at him.
He nods, sets his bag down on the desk, and then collapses into the chair next to you. He stares at your travel mug enviously as he slips his laptop from his bag, and you do laugh at that, at the tight furrow in his brow, at the pout on his lips. He glares at you, then, and then it all dissolves into a yawn. Something about it makes your chest ache- maybe it’s the way he pulls his hands into his hoodie sleeves. He looks like he could curl up right there and fall asleep.
“Early practice?” You ask, smiling sympathetically.
“So early,” he says, rubbing his eyes blearily. “I hate Seb.” Then he frowns, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t. But I do love sleep.”
You laugh and elbow him lightly. “I’ll bring you coffee on Wednesday. As long as you make good on your promise to help me study for this exam.”
His eyes light up, and he elbows you back, smiling brightly. “Easy trade. We’re going to get you an A+.”
You roll your eyes. Before you can respond, the professor calls the class to order, and you both open your laptops. But Oscar’s there, and he’s agreed to help you study, and when you lose your place in the notes halfway through the lecture he helps you get back on track with a sweet smile. It definitely doesn’t make butterflies swirl in your stomach.
Two days later, you walk into the kitchen, paper bag in hand, and you’re greeted with bright smiles and eager hands. Lando grabs for the bag, and Alex isn’t far behind him. Even Max, who’s cooking something on the stovetop, seems to perk up.
“Hey, hey,” you scold, snatching the bag out of their reach. “Not for you.”
Lando furrows his brows. “You’re my best friend, you show up at my house, and you have food that’s not for me?”
You shrug. “It’s for my study group,” you explain, holding the bag high above your head as you walk towards the dining room.
Oscar pops his head through the doorway and smiles at you. He takes the bag from your hand. “Hi. Ready?”
Lando blinks at the two of you in bewilderment. “Um?”
“We’re gonna get an A+ in physics,” Oscar says to Lando, drumming his free hand on the doorframe.
You scoff. “I’m unsure if that’s possible, at this point. But I’m hoping to at least pass.”
You head for the dining table and sit down. Oscar already has all his study materials spread out, so you do the same. When you look up, Lando is having some sort of almost silent conversation with Oscar, talking in hushed tones and facial expressions that do very little to tell you what’s going on. You see Oscar shake his head, then nod, then shake his head again. Max is watching them, too, in amusement. You exchange a glance with the team captain, and he shrugs. His food is burning on the stove- you can smell it. Alex’s far too calm announcement of that fact breaks up whatever was happening between Oscar and Lando.
Oscar turns back to you, brows raised. “Ready?”
Behind him, Max opens the kitchen window and waves smoke out of it.
You nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
You unpack Chinese takeout containers and dish out food on plates. Oscar’s teammates wander through occasionally, sticking their heads into the dining areas to say hi and ask how things are going, but for a while, it’s just the two of you. You find that Oscar’s a great study partner. He’s kind when you ask questions, willing to explain things in a way that you understand. And, when you get bored, you have him to look at. The serious look on his face, the little furrow in his brow, the soft curve of his lips when you answer a question correctly. He’s nice to look at, that’s all.
You walk home later that night feeling better about your odds on the physics exam, and better about the whole situation with Oscar. You think you might finally be winning him over. Halfway to your apartment, you pause on the sidewalk, overlooking the campus park. It would be shorter to just cut through the park. Take the more direct route. You study it for a few moments in the hazy blue post sunset light. Then you turn down the sidewalk and continue on your original route home.
Read Part 3, Losing The Dream!
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amakumos · 3 months
Text
MEET ME IN MONTE CARLO. — jake sim. (teaser)
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SYNOPSIS. As a Formula 1 driver, being competitive is just in Ferrari driver Jake Sim's blood. Perhaps Jake cares about winning too much though, because during his conquest for the world title, he loses you. It isn't until 2 years later when you show up at the Monaco Grand Prix with his main rival, Red Bull driver Park Sunghoon, when Jake finds himself determined to not only fight for the championship, but also to fight for you.
GENRE. fluff, angst, exes to enemies (one-sided ish) to lovers
PAIRING. formula 1 driver! jake x fem! reader
WARNINGS. none in the teaser. in the fic, cursing, mentions of car crashes and accidents
ESTIMATED RELEASE DATE. late march, early april
WORD COUNT. 20k ish, teaser is 883 words
AUTHOR'S NOTE. well... this will be my second to last fic for the meantime! i'm excited to drop this one. i've been working on it for quite a while now. here's a formula 1 fic starring our very own jake sim :) i hope you enjoy this little teaser, and the taglist is open so just pop in an ask if you'd like to be tagged when i post this <3
TAGLIST IS OPEN, send in an ask if you’d like to be added!
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You were the first person that Jake Sim ever loved. You were there at his first Formula 1 race, you were there at his first race win, and you were there for his first world title win. A series of firsts. 
But, Jake Sim has first breakup on the list as well. 
He always regrets how things ended between you two – it was messy, it was awful, and it left him crying at 3 in the morning in his apartment. 
Jake isn’t certain about many things in his life. But what Jake is 100% certain of, is that the breakup was all his fault.
You had screamed at him, and he knew that he deserved it. You were slowly slipping away from his grasp, and Jake allowed that to happen as he chased another world title so desperately. So desperately to the point that he would end up neglecting you. 
Forgotten dates, forgotten anniversaries, and forgotten birthdays. Text messages would be left unread for days when he was in some other unfamiliar city, as you walked to your lectures with a heavy heart and the stream of his race playing in the back of your phone as you waited for a response. You wore red every time he had a race, for Ferrari, for him, even as your relationship was crumbling. 
“I’m sorry,” he had choked out. “It is difficult.” 
You looked at him with bloodshot eyes and shaking fists. “It is. And you’re chasing your dreams, but… I can’t be with you if it’s like this. The past few months have been like we weren’t even dating in the first place.” 
Jake gulps. “I know. I’m sorry.” 
“I want to try,” you had said with an exasperated sigh, and Jake knows that you’re tired. He’s going at maximum speed, and you’re left trailing behind him. He’s so far ahead, and you know you’ve lost all hope of catching up. But you say those words anyway. “Please tell me you’ll try.” 
Jake doesn’t say a word. Because he knows that he won’t be able to. He wants to say yes, so badly. He wants to hug you, he wants to kiss you, and he wants to commit. Just as he commits to his races, to the championship, to Ferrari. 
But he can’t. Not a single word leaves his lips, and his silence is enough of an answer for you. “Oh,” you say, and Jake doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers, and your lower lip trembles. You’re dressed in red, Ferrari’s colour – his colour. “Okay.” 
“I’m sorry.” he told you. 
“It’s important to you.” you pressed your lips together in a thin line. “I understand.”
You say that, but Jake knows that you don’t. He knows nobody would ever be able to understand choosing to win over choosing someone you love. But Jake is committed to racing. He is committed to win. 
Yet, he’s not committed to you. The one who’s been with him through thick and thin, the one who’d catch red-eye flights to find him in some unfamiliar city to watch him win, the one who’d go through hell and back for him if it meant that he’d be happy. 
He can’t do the same for you, and he hates that. 
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, and you simply shook your head. You don’t have anything more to say to him, so you quietly pack your things. “I’m sorry.” 
Before you opened the door to leave, you took one last look at Jake. “I hope you figure out whatever’s going on in your life.” You don’t say anything more, and that is the last time Jake Sim ever sees you again. 
He doesn’t know what you’re doing either, because you’d deleted your Instagram account, starting a new one where none of his fans could keep up to date with you. The only way he knows how you’re doing is updates from Heeseung's girlfriend Yoona, who goes on trips with you often. He sees his fans constantly wondering if you’re doing well, and Jake finds it funny how he’s got the same exact question.
He drowns himself further in training, in racing, in wanting to become the best after the split. He wins, he wins, and he wins again – and that feeling of euphoria when he stands on the podium never leaves. It fills him with a joy like no other, and it reminds Jake why he does this. He wants to win. He wants to be the best – no, he is the best. 
Winning means the world to Jake Sim. Racing is in his blood – he does it to hear the crowds scream his name, he does it to lift that trophy on the top step of the podium, and he does it to feel the overwhelming pride in his chest when he crosses that chequered flag first. 
But he’s been so focused on winning, and he’s lost his everything. 
His everything is the girl who went to his first race. His everything is the girl who would tire herself by studying during the day, and catching long flights to the cities where he’d race in to support him. 
And his everything had left him 2 years ago in his apartment in Monte Carlo, Monaco, with teary eyes and a red dress. 
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cutielando · 2 months
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social media au request for y/n narrating the grill the grid games and george russell is immediately in love so the rest of the boys spend their whole interviews trying to wingman george and talk about how gentlemanly he is?
also would you ever add logan sargeant to your master list?
social media au
synopsis: the request basically ✨
my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Instagram
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liked by f1, georgerussell63 and 194,712 others
yourusername GRILL THE GRID INCOMING ‼️
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landonorris please go easy on me this year
yourusername no❤️
landonorris 🥲
charles_leclerc i’m afraid of participating
yourusername ????? i’m harmless
charles_leclerc and i’m a world champion
yourusername did you just diss yourself?🫣
charles_leclerc …yes…
georgerussell63 glad to have you with us, Y/N!😊
yourusername always a pleasure doing business with you guys! 🥰
landonorris 👀
charles_leclerc 👀👀
maxverstappen1 👀👀👀
alex_albon 👀👀👀👀
lilymhe go hard on them!!
yourusername i will!!!
alex_albon babe???????????
user1 OMG YES FINALLY !!!!
user2 Y/N torturing the grid during this is my favorite thing in the whole world 🤣❤️❤️
user3 DID NOBODY SEE THE COMMENTS?????
user4 our favorite time of the year has finally arrived
user5 ALL HAIL THE QUEEN OF F1
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liked by lilymhe, alex_albon and 391,482 others
yourusername testing it out for myself
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user1 Y/N AND GEORGE????????
lilymhe 👀👀👀 i feel like i'm watching a live rom-com
yourusername you and me both babe 😅
alex_albon is this what i think it is?
yourusername nothing is what you think it is, like ever
alex_albon hey, no need to bully me 🥲
yourusername but you know i love doing it
landonorris i'm curious to see how things progress🤭
yourusername what makes you think you're going to be kept in the loop?????
landonorris ... but we're friends
yourusername who told you that?
landonorris 😟
yourusername 😇
georgerussell63 must be one lucky lad 😉
yourusername he really is. we both are😌
user2 i can't with these two, they're so unserious😂
user3 did we actually convince George to ask Y/N out?
user4 i think we did😅😅
carlossainz55 are you with George?
yourusername i am not at liberty to discuss this at the moment
carlossainz55 oooooh, i understand. my apologies
user6 carlos is such a dad😭😭😭
charles_leclerc did you like the restaurant?
yourusername ...i did, why?
charles_leclerc i recommended it
yourusername interesting. is there anything else i should know?
georgerussell63 you would do well to shut your mouth, mate🥰
charles_leclerc yourusername nothing else to report
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 901,284 others
georgerussell63 finally grew a pair tagged: yourusername
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yourusername you're cute <3
georgerussell63 you're cuter <3
landonorris you're welcome 😁
georgerussell63 thank you, my good friend lando
landonorris 🥰🥰
charles_leclerc you were hopeless, mate😅
georgerussell63 i wasn't that bad
yourusername george, babe. yes, you were.
georgerussell63 :(
lilymhe i’m so happy for you guys 😭😭 finally
yourusername thank you honey 🥰🥰🥰
georgerussell63 were you all waiting for me to ask her out?
carlossainz55 yes
charles_leclerc yes
landonorris yes
alex_albon yes
yourusername yes
georgerussell63 …i really am clueless
user1 WE WON GUYS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
f1 The couple we have been waiting for ❤️❤️
georgerussell63 admin too?
f1 yup. thought you’d never do it
yourusername 😅😅
francisca.cgomes YYYAAAAAAAYYYY❤️❤️❤️
yourusername ❤️❤️
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I really hope you like it !!!! Had very much fun writing it!!
It’s not as long as I would have liked it to be because I barely had time to breathe today but i really hope you like it !! ❤️
As for Logan, I might add him to my masterlist in the upcoming weeks, once I get my shit together and balance out writing with my studies haha
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589 notes · View notes
disneyprincemuke · 6 months
Text
» disneyprincemuke's f1 masterlist
series
vettel reincarnate * female!driver -> after retiring from formula 1 at the end of the 2022 season, f1 legend sebastian vettel realised a while after the announcement that he would miss the paddock way too much. instead of taking back his announcement, he pairs up with an up-and-coming driver and gets her a seat in a race car in formula 1.
in another life * female!driver x logan sargeant -> "if not in this universe, do you think we're at least together in another?" "there has to be at least one where we're happy."
it's nice to have a friend * logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver -> it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago
i'm giving up your ghost * multiple drivers -> i’d live in these stories forever if it means being with you
fast times and fast nights * f1 grid as wags -> what do you expect when you put the grid and their partners on a reality show?
i said "i love you" * valentine's day special -> different reactions to the phrase
max verstappen
midnights -> a compilation of lonely midnights shared between you and max following your breakup
5 times -> there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there’s the time that he finally let you know
3 times -> you've had a crush on the racing prodigy for as long as you've known him - you had your own troubles biting back on words too.
glitter -> it’s the morning after a party, and you find yourself tangled up in bed with your boyfriend
the other woman -> everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at
charles leclerc
i quit drinking -> you were never one to turn down alcohol. when you do, it causes a ruckus among your friends.
to forget you -> you avoided alcohol to forget the likes of charles, but he coped by drowning himself in the very same thing that reminded him of you
you called -> you called, so he came.
george russell
sex -> it was supposed to be just sex
be mine -> your last night together ended on a bad note, and now you’re back after months to explain yourself
alex albon
love like this -> alex may be the reason your parents are separating, but he proves to you that soulmates still exist
get this right -> the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it
first podiums -> it’s her first win in formula one as a female driver and her boyfriend can’t be any happier for her
logan sargeant
take my hand * prince!logan -> the princess, to inherit the throne after marriage, is having the hardest time trying to find a man to wed. until, a certain duke of somewhere comes riding in to ask for her hand
our spot -> a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years
our spot, 2 -> it’s about two weeks since you last saw logan and you find him sitting all alone in the dark
oscar's girl / logan's girl -> logan never thought he would meet the girl that broke oscar’s heart
where the fun begins * frat!logan (college!mick) -> logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc
to the moon and back * dad!logan -> the misadventures of little luna sargeant
carlos sainz
one of your girls -> you’re just another name in black ink in his long list of girls, and you should know better. so why are you at his apartment in the middle of the night after weeks of radio silence?
oscar piastri
logan's girl -> oscar truly never thought he would ever see the girl that was the cause of his first ever heartbreak
mastermind -> oscar did not expect that he had to share a bed with you during his trip to visit you over his break
mick schumacher
no other shade of blue, but you -> you didn't have a favourite colour up until you met him
where the fun begins * college!mick (frat!logan) -> logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc
invisible string -> unbeknownst to you, there was a force that was pulling you and mick together your entire lives
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Hello lovelyyyyyy!! I hope you’re well and having a lovely spooky season! I saw that you haven’t gotten Lando requests and I find that unacceptable so here goes: lando x driver!reader - a bunch of the drivers end up piling up in someone’s hotel room watching a scary movie. Reader doesn’t want to be a chicken because she knows she’ll get teased, but she’s terrified. Lando notices and tries to comfort her. Maybe covers her eyes during scary bits? Maybe spends the night in her room bc she’s scared to be alone after? Idk go crazy girlie!
Not That Scary - Lando Norris
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<word count - 2987>
This was such a dumb idea, but you went along with it. You went along with it since you didn't want to seem like a chicken, even though it now seemed like a very small price to pay in order to get out of this. 
As you all piled into Max's hotel room, ready for the scary movie suggested by the smooth operator himself. You hated scary movies just as much as the next normal person, but you couldn't think of a viable excuse to get out of this. 
There was plenty of room for all of you as you huddled around the TV, some poor souls having to take spots on the floor, or dragging dining room chairs over and trying to get as comfortable as possible. You were one of the first ones in, and you took your spot on the couch in the corner.
Lando and Carlos nearly got into fisticuffs for the final spot on the couch, that was next to you. "Carlos, you can sit here, Lando can sit there. I don't mind taking the floor," you said, wanting to get the film over with, and the longer they took, the longer you had to wait until you could go to your hotel room and forget about this stupid scary movie.
"No no, I'm a gentleman, ladies first. So Lando, the seat is all yours," Carlos quipped with a mischievous smirk on his face. He knew how to rile Lando up, and this was his one way ticket to starting an argument that he knew he'd somehow win. 
"Whatever," Lando mumbled, instantly backing down and flopping down next to you. Carlos chuckled to himself and sat on the floor, his head leaning back on the arm rest beside you. "Can we share the blanket? You're kind of hogging it," Lando said, tugging at the soft, white blanket you had wrapped around your shoulders. 
"Fine fine, just make sure it's definitely half and half, yeah?" you said, draping half over him as he shuffled closer to you so that you'd both be warm. 
"Sure, I can do that," he smiled, keeping to the rule you had set out for him. "Max, what are we watching?" he asked, itching to get the film started. You, on the other hand, were sat there, nervous out of your mind. 
You were hoping they would say a mild-mannered horror film, but Carlos just had to go and ruin the night. "Let's go for it, The Shining," he announced, and there were a lot of approving words as Max found it on the TV. 
"Oh shit, here we go," you mumbled, grabbing a pillow to hold onto through the particularly scary moments. You had your arms wrapped around it, ready to squeeze it instead of screaming through the jumpscares and gory bits. 
"You alright?" Lando asked, hearing your mumbles. He leant in as not to alert the attention of anyone else, since he didn't want you to be uncomfortable if you said you weren't alright. 
"Yeah, yeah, scary movies just aren't really my thing," you smiled, nodding. 
"Neither, but you can squeeze my hand if it gets too scary," he chuckled, moving even closer to you so that you were shoulder to shoulder, and the blanket completely covered the two of you so nobody could see if you did in fact want to squeeze his hand. 
"Thanks," you said as Max started the movie, and a lull fell over the group. For a short while, you all sat there, silent as the movie was still rather tame. Your knee was bouncing up and down out of nerves, and you were slightly jumping at the smallest loud noise or frame change. 
"We can go if you want, you're not enjoying yourself," Lando whispered, placing a tentative hand on your leg to try and stop you from shaking it so much.
"It's OK, I'll settle into it," you dismissed, making no effort to move his hand. Out of habit, his thumb swiped up and down over the skin on your leg. It did offer a small amount of comfort to have his hand there, grounding you. 
"Just let me know if you want to go, we can go," he whispered, leaving you to watch the movie. It was nice to know that he'd make an excuse, but there was no way you were tapping out now. You were locked in, and there was no backing off.
"Thanks," you told him, glueing your eyes back to the screen. You were coping, just about. The pillow was being squashed to death, and you were jumping at even the most minor of scares. Lando thankfully knew when the big ones were, since he had watched the movie before. 
Without warning, Lando covered your eyes with his hand and all you could hear was Jack trying to break down the bathroom door while Wendy screamed in terror. You flicked your eyes over to him, and smiled. 
You mouthed a 'thank you', and he proceeded to mouth back a 'no problem'. Lando took his hand away from your eyes, before swiftly covered you back up again. The sounds alone of whatever was going on on screen was enough for you to take hold of the hand he had on your thigh.
"You're fine, it's not real," he softly chuckled, trying to bring about some sense of solace to you while the movie drew to a close. As the last few scenes played out, you just let yourself lean into him while you held his hand, squeezing every time you got a little scared. 
As he looked around, making sure no one was looking at you, he gently planted a kiss on top of your head before resuming the regular position. You felt yourself relax instantly, even if the movie was still scaring the living hell out of you. 
It was just nice to have someone to lean on, figuratively and literally as you watched the worst thing you had ever seen on TV. Every time you even slightly gripped his hand, he squeezed back, just to remind you he was there.
You were trying to put on a brave face while everyone else was looking relatively stoic. Well, apart from Charles. He had been hiding under the blanket for at least fifteen minutes, and whacked Max every time he laughed at him. 
You didn't want to be subject to any teasing or anything, so you gripped Lando's hand and hoped to god that he wouldn't run around, telling the whole grid how much of a chicken you were being throughout the whole movie. 
As the final shot of Jack, frozen to death flashed on the screen, you let out a tiny squeal of terror, and everyone's eyes turned to you briefly, a few of them giggling away to themselves. "Out of all the things that we have seen, that's what gets you?" Carlos laughed, turning his head to look at you. 
"It was a shock," you said, glad that Carlos hadn't been able to tell how terrified you had been throughout the entirety of the movie. It wasn't before long that everyone was being hauled out of Max's hotel room. 
You would have rather driven 100 laps in Qatar than sat through another minute of that goddamn movie. It felt hot and stuffy in there, and the corridor was like a refrigerator in comparison. 
"Hey, you OK?" Lando asked, catching up to you on the walk back to your hotel room. 
"Yeah, yeah. That movie is going to keep me up all night," you lightly laughed, not looking forward to the impending nightmares that you knew were going to be plaguing your sleep tonight. 
"I can come stay with you if you want, might take the edge off," he offered without a second thought, and you couldn't tell whether he was being actually serious, or taking the cake. 
"Really?" you asked, trying to confirm his intentions. 
"Yeah, it'd be my pleasure. Maybe we can watch something a little less scary, take our minds off of whatever the hell that was," he chuckled with a sincere smile. If he was completely honest with you, he was scared shitless as well, and he wished he had multiple hands to hold your hand, cover his eyes and yours during the movie. 
"I'm in 216, so we'll have to take the elevator or the stairs. But at this point, pretty much everything scares the life out of me, so either is good," you said, starting to walk down the carpeted corridor as people dispersed to their rooms for the night.
"OK, stairs sound a lot better than the elevator right now," he said, causing you to laugh slightly. Lando was clearly just as unsettled as you were, and it would be nice to be scardycats together, as you defended each other from the imaginary monsters that you'd surely be dreaming of. 
The pair of you walked down the stairs of the eerily quiet hotel, and there were a couple times you could have sworn you had seen those two creepy little girls standing at the end of the hallway, but you knew it wasn't real. 
"We're keeping the lights on," you stated when the two of you walked into the hotel room, and Lando wholeheartedly agreed. 
"Absolutely, sounds perfect," he nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He didn't want to just take his shoes off and crawl into your bed, he thought that would be pushing it a bit too far. As if you had read his mind, you hopped in. 
"You can get in one one condition," you smirked, eyeing up the mini fridge in the corner of the room. You were also watching the snacks that were on the table top, and you weren't getting back out of the warm confines of your bed now that you were in.
"Already on it," he sighed, picking up the bags of snacks and throwing them to you. "What drink do you want?" he asked, opening the fridge and seeing what you had. You looked at the selection, and just settled on a mango juice. 
Lando collected your drinks and tentatively got into bed next to you. "Thanks, do you want to sleep or watch a movie?" you asked, cracking open the mango juice and taking a sip. 
"Well, if we sleep, I'll scare the monsters away, I'll protect you," he giggled, nudging you slightly. 
"My knight in shining armour," you rolled your eyes, turning the light out and getting comfy. "If I wake you up in the middle of the night, I'm sorry, OK?" you said, closing your eyes and instantly feeling tiredness take over. 
"Don't worry about it," he chuckled, also feeling really tired. The two of you fell asleep almost instantly, but it wasn't long before you grew restless. 
All you could hear was the sound of Wendy screaming as Jack tried to bust the door down, and you jolted awake, seeing nothing around you but darkness. Sitting bolt upright, you took a couple deep breaths, as you felt stupid for how scared you were of a movie. 
Lando felt the sudden shift, and opened his eyes. Through the darkness, he saw the outline of you, sat up straight and he could hear you breathing. "Hey, you OK?" he whispered, and you turned your head to look at him.
"Yeah, yeah, just... a little on edge. It's stupid, really," you shook your head, fidgeting with your fingers as he held his hand out to you. 
"Don't make this weird, but c'mere," he mumbled, still very clearly half-asleep as you shuffled closer. As you led down beside you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you so that your back was flushed to his chest. 
"It's not real, yeah? You're safe, I've got you," he quietly rambled as you put your arms on top of his while he held you close. "I won't let anyone hurt you, I'll protect you," he continued to ramble, peppering kisses down your neck as if he had completely forgotten that it was you in his arms. 
The gesture was small, yet intimate and calming and it lulled you into a sense of warm comfort. You mentally scolded yourself for not telling him to stop or pushing him away, but you loved how his lips felt against your skin. He kept them light, but you couldn't help but close your eyes as sleep tried to take you away.
"There you go, you're OK," he mumbled, sensing you were falling asleep as your body relaxed against him. "That's it," he muttered against your neck as you lost consciousness, and it wasn't long before he followed suit. 
You were relaxed, and there weren't anymore interruptions throughout the night. The pair of you were woken up by a loud wrapping on your hotel room door. "Y/N! Wake up!" As you and Lando woke, still entangled in each other's arms, you both looked at each other in horror at the realization of who was outside. 
"What do you want, Carlos?" you groaned, making no effort to move away from Lando as you snuggled further into him. 
"Is Lando there? He's not in his room!" he shouted through the door and Lando groaned into your neck. "Can you open the door please?" Carlos continued. 
"Yeah, one second," you nodded as Lando tried to pull you back into bed with him.
"Just tell him to piss off," he mumbled, nestling himself back into the covers as he instantly felt cold and unsettled without you beside him.
"I'll be quick," you smiled, leaving him in bed and going to open the door for Carlos. The Spaniard was stood there, arms crossed, a slight smirk painted on his face. 
"Is he here?" he asked, trying to look past you and into the room. Your body blocked the view, so he wouldn't be able to see that lump that was Lando under the duvet. 
"No, he's probably gone down for breakfast."
"We already checked, he's not there. We've looked everywhere," he told you as he walked straight into the room, peering around. You held your breath as his gaze turned to the bed, but it was empty. It was obvious where he had gone, but you just prayed to god that Carlos wouldn't check the bathroom. 
"Sorry to intrude, we just thought that he could be in here," he shook his head, not seeing any signs of Lando in the room. He started to walk back out, before turning and opening the bathroom door, and then the shower curtain. 
"Oh hello Lando, didn't think you'd be there," he laughed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The smirk on Carlos' face was not going to be wiped off any time soon. Lando sat there, cowering in the bath after his poorly thought out idea to hide from Carlos. The effort was commended. 
"I guess the moaning and groaning we all heard last night wasn't from the ghosts and ghouls," he winked as Lando turned bright red. 
"No, we were both scared from the movie last night, so we kept each other company," you explained as Lando sighed. He didn't want Carlos to know he was scared of the film, but he also didn't want everyone to think you two were sleeping together. Well, not in that way. 
"Oh yeah? Calming each other down with the devil's tango? Surely that gets the heart rate going more, no?" he listed, using all of his self-composure not to just laugh in your faces. "You just going to sit in there or are you going to come out, Lando?" Carlos continued. 
Without saying anything, Lando pulled himself of the empty bath and stood next to you, eyes flicking between you and Carlos. "Go get dressed, you two. A couple of us are heading down for breakfast. Wait, Y/N, did a vampire bite you? You've got something on your neck," Carlos said, peering at you. 
You clapped your hand over the area, thinking Lando had gotten a little carried away and you just hadn't noticed. "Kidding," Carlos laughed, knowing he had gotten the reaction he was looking for from you. "No more bone rattling you two, I'll see you in a bit," he giggled, leaving the two of you in the bathroom in silence. 
"I should, you know, I should, uh-" he mumbled, fidgeting with his fingers. 
"Yeah, me too," you nodded, walking out of the bathroom. Lando wanted to stay - he didn't want to leave your side just yet. "I'll see you at breakfast, thanks for last night," you smiled as he approached you. 
Lando opened his arms out as you hugged him back, not wanting to turn out of his embrace. Just as you went to leave the hug, Lando couldn't help but move his lips down to your neck and softly bite his teeth into the flesh. "Lando!" you exclaimed, racing to the mirror to see what he'd done. 
"Wait, Y/N, did a vampire bite you? You've got something on your neck," he chuckled, leaving you gobsmacked as he went to get ready for breakfast. 
"For fucks sake," you mumbled, instantly reaching for the foundation to try and cover up the red teeth marks that were printed on your skin. Your heart was racing, but you couldn't tell whether it was the fear of it being seen, or the thrill of it happening. 
A/N - Yes, I know it isn't spooky season, but I wrote this aaaaages ago and wanted to post it since I actually really like this one. I have more requests coming in, and I am writing quite a few of them at the minute! Keep them coming, hope you're having a wonderful day, and love you 💖
@chilichilichilipep This one is for you my lovely! Your requests are honestly some of my favourites that I get, and I adore them all, even if it takes a few decades for me to write them 🤠
|masterlist|
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lxndonorris · 2 months
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new season, new suit - Charles Leclerc (SFS24)
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Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smut (you've been warned) Theme: you're attending the ferrari photoshoot, watching Charles pose like the model he is. What happens when he invites you to the changing room? word count: 2080+ taglist: @game-set-canet the second installment of the suit fitting saga 2024.
Your heart buzzes with anticipation as the new Formula 1 season looms on the horizon, and Charles, your boyfriend and a professional racing driver for Scuderia Ferrari, is in the midst of a photoshoot for his team's new gear. 
The vibrant red racing suit, tailored to perfection, hugs his athletic frame like a second skin, accentuating every contour and muscle. Throughout the last few years, he has been a part of the Ferrari family, and they always manage to create such beautiful suits for him and his teammate. 
You watch Charles and Carlos strike poses, standing right next to each other, as the guy with the huge camera tells them what to do next.
When he invited you to join him for the shoot, you couldn't resist the opportunity to witness him in his element and, obviously, see the new suit on him.
As he strikes pose after pose, his smile contagiuos and his eyes sparkling with excitement, your heart swells with pride. Charles looks so handsome, with the fabric of the suit flowing perfectly across his firm body, accentuating all the right spots. 
Anytime he moves, you can't help but admire his physique: his big biceps bulging, his thick thighs, and his strong frame—just perfect. You feel a sudden rush of joy and excitement, knowing that he wants you there by his side.
With each click of the camera, you find yourself falling even more deeply in love with him.
Then Carlos walks away, looking at the pictures through the screen as Charles sits down, ready for another round.
That's when your eyes meet from across the room, and you notice a familiar glint of longing desire burning in his eyes. Charles licks his lips, lifts his chin, and strikes another pose: he runs a hand across his chest firmly, dragging the suit's fabric acoss as his hand reaches his neck. 
He takes a deep breath while resting his other hand casually on his thighs, right after he subtly strokes himself some more.
It feels like he is posing just for you, his gaze seeking yours amidst the whirlwind of activity surrounding us.
It's nearly impossible to look away until he focuses on the camera once more. Tension is building up inside your belly and chest, sending several shivers down your spine. 
For a moment, you look around. Someone might have watched this, exposing his teasing nature, but nobody reacts—just you.
That's when he strikes another pose, looking for your eyes once again. Sparks are flying when he opens his mouth, posing like a real model would, while his burning gaze pulls you in.
You notice his hands now stroking his chest shortly before a sly smirk creeps on his lips—the same smirk he would give you before kissing you in bed.
Letting out a low sigh, you regain your composure, but the thought of him on top of you, kissing you while encompassing your entire body with his soft hands, gives you goosebumps. 
You hear his voice inside your mind—a mere whisper, a soft moan—as he grinds his hips on yours. With his hand around your neck, he keeps on kissing you, pinning you to the bed. His desire presses against your thighs, asking for one special thing.
"That's it for now." The photographer's voice snaps you out of your daydreaming. He captures the last few shots before Charles regains his stance, running his hands one last time across his chest before approaching the computer.
They talk for a little while, while you can't help but sink back into that daydream. Closing your eyes, you try to push these thoughts away, but his low groans echo through every fiber of your body.
"Well, what do you think?" Charles' voice makes you jump slightly, and you open your eyes to find him standing right in front of you, a coy smile forming in the corner of his lips. "How do I look?"
"Stunning." You reply, letting your eyes wander all over him, noticing how firm his body has grown due to the excitement and tension building up throughout the shoot.
With a chuckle, Charles leans in close, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet and tender kiss.
"Carlos, your turn." A voice echoes through the studio as Carlos takes the stage. 
Both of you turn to watch him perform, just as well as Charles did before him. 
Then, however, Charles leans into you again, his lips inches away from your ear. 
"I hope you know how happy I am that you're here today." He breathes against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
"Thanks for the invitation." You turn to meet his gaze; his eyes sparkle in mischief.
Both of you turn back to watch Carlos strike another pose, but then Charles whispers into your ear again.
"I always feel so special wearing this gear." His voice is low and rough. "I want to share the first time wearing this suit with you." 
You dare not look at him, trying to avoid his gaze, but you're way too hooked not to look at him.
He bites his lower lip, trying to swallow a mischievous smirk, but subconsciously, he strokes his chest again, letting his hand slide down his suit to the faint bulge forming in his trousers.
"You're an idiot." You chuckle quietly, grab his chin with your hand, and push him away playfully.
For a second, you just watch the shoot play out in front of you, but then he turns back to you.
"I can tell Carlos is feeling the same." He chuckles to himself, and you can see his eyes now checking out his teammate.
"How?" You ask carefully, and he just motions for you to watch Carlos.
"Just watch his body move, so deliberately yet so naturally," Charles says, "just the way his muscles bulge—his chest, arms, and thighs. Just like mine." He swallows hard before turning his face back to yours. "Could you tell?"
Breathing deeply, you nod slowly. 
"Just so fucking good." Charles smiles, leans in, and kisses you again; this time, it's a much more passionate kiss.
As the photoshoot comes to an end and they talk about the pictures for a while, Charles turns to you with a playful grin, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.
"Care to join me backstage?" He asks, his voice low and husky—an offer you can't refuse.
With a nod, you take his hand, leading him toward the changing room. Luckily, each driver got their own little private area—enough space for the two of you to have some fun.
Inside, the air is filled with the scent of his cologne, wrapping you like a familiar embrace as he pulls you into him, his hands now tightly on your waist.
Steadying yourself against his strong frame, you take the opportunity to stroke his firm chest. His muscles are already as hard as rocks, and his clothes are barely able to contain his form. 
With a gentle touch, you run your hands over the fabric of the suit, marveling at its sleek texture against your fingertips. It was like silk beneath your touch—smooth and luxurious.
As you explore the contours of his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, Charles lets out a soft sigh, his eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire. His hands run along your waistline to your arse, and you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through your veins.
Carefully, you unbutton the collar of his suit, exposing the zipper. You exchange a knowing look, and he lets you pull the zipper down, revealing the tight red fireproofs he is wearing underneath.
With a little help, his upper body slips out of his clothes, the sleeves now hanging down his waist. 
His undergarments are even tighter, just like a second skin that drags across his muscles, his nipples, and down his thick biceps and shoulders.
With a playful grin, Charles flexes his muscles, the fabric of the fireproofs stretching taut against his athletic frame. Every ripple and bulge is accentuated, showcasing his physique in all its glory—a sight to behold—and you can't tear your eyes away from him.
"Like what you see?" he teases, his voice so rough.
"Absoluetly," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Because I need this so much." Charles leans into you, kissing you. His body presses against yours, and right away, his hips grind against yours.
Together, you make your way through the room until you come to a standstill. You're standing with your back against a wall, Charles' lips tightly on yours, while one hand is around your neck, stroking you gently.
In response, you stroke his chest again and again, causing him to purr happily right in your mouth. The faint scent of his cologne grows stronger, swirling all around you as he runs a hand across your chest, your boobs, and right between your legs.
"Charles." You tilt your head, letting out a low grunt.
"I'm so hard right now," he replies, letting out a guttural groan from deep down his throat. His burning desire is rubbing against your thighs. So good.
"Let me handle that." You smirk, and in one swift motion, you turn him around, pressing his back against the concrete wall.
A devious smirk tugs at his lips, knowing very well what you're offering.
Placing a hand at his neck, you trace his firm jawline with your fingertips, enjoying how his very light stubble tickles your skin. 
You kiss him once, twice, again, and again, right on his lips, before you make your way down his chest.
"You're so handsome." Running your thumb along his soft, wet lips, you look into his eyes, causing him to take another deep breath. At the same time, you rub his member with the palm of your hand, as you know he enjoys that so much.
"You're gorgeous." He murmurs, his eyes wandering all over your face—from your lips to your cheeks and back to your eyes.
You let your hands run down his neck to his chest, firmly feeling his muscles through the fireproofs. You pinch his nipples—one of his sensitizing spots—causing him to swallow a long moan.
"That feels good." He breathes deeply.
Before you go any further, you pull his shirt up, exposing his beautiful, bare chest. At first, you trace his tangible abs with your index finger before you place longing kisses all over his skin.
Looking up, you catch him watching you closely. Charles licks his lips and strokes his own chest as you get on your knees.
With a little help from him, you manage to pull his suit down enough for him to present his length bulging through his undergarments.
"You're a big boy." You tease him by tracing the outlines of his member, causing him to smirk again.
"I've been hoping we would do that." He shakes his head, exhausted yet excited. "I couldn't think of anything else." His accent comes through slightly, making you smile.
By biting your lip at the sight of him struggling to keep a straight face, you won't edge him on any longer.
You pull his length out of his suit—it towers in front of you—and you take him in your mouth—a sensational, familiar feeling. His delicious taste spreads across your tongue while he takes several deep breaths, trying not to make too much noise.
As you move your mouth rhythmically, you watch his body follow your lead. All of him is longing for a much-needed release, and you're about to give it to him.
Charles strokes himself firmly, even leaning his head back against the wall. 
"So good." He runs a hand through your hair, stroking you and holding you in place at the same time.
"Mhmm." You moan, enjoying his taste all over your mouth. Your body shakes, and you steady yourself against his thighs, much to his amusement. 
"I'm so close." He growls, blinking a few times, before he can't help but release himself—fucking good.
You let go of him and separate yourself, watching him stroke his member before tugging it back into his underwear. 
"You're a fucking goddess." He chuckles, reaching for your hand and pulling you into another loving kiss.
"Thanks for today." You say, stroking his chest gently while staring into his beautiful eyes.
"I need to thank you." Charles smiles, and you hug each other tightly.
Together, you get changed before you return to the others already waiting for you.
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
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I'm Having Your Baby
It's None Of Your Business
It was supposed to just be a one night stand. It wasn't supposed to be anything more. But three positive pregnancy tests later and she realises she's fucked.
(I actually don't like Harry Styles)
Warnings: smut, mention of abortion
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The bass was thumping, the music blasting and the lights flying in the club. She was letting loose, shaking her hips in time to the music. She was the envy of everybody in the club.
He was across the dance floor, sat in one of the booths lining the wall. In his hands was a jack and coke, the ice in his glass almost completely melted. Although he was on the other side of the club, he could still see her. Actually, he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Something about her drew him closer. He wove his way through the crowds of people until he was standing in front of her, hands of her gyrating hips. Wordlessly she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her body along with his.
He knew he had to have her. Carlos kissed her that night. He pulled her close as he pressed his lips to her. Before long his tongue was down her throat and they had forgotten about dancing.
She ended up at his place that night. He laid her down in his bed and stripped off her clothes. She shivered in the cool air of his bedroom, but it wasn't long before his warm, naked body was on top of hers, thrusting into her, bring wave after wave of pleasure.
He rolled his hips against her, setting his pace according to his moan. He was completely focused on bringing her pleasure again and again.
Nobody had ever fucked her like that before. No single man had ever made her cum that many times.
But still, she was out of his bed, out of his house before he woke up, never to see him again.
The pregnancy test was taken three and a half weeks later. At 25 days she realised she had missed her period. It wasn't worrying until she remembered her counter in the club.
But she never expected it to come up positive. It must have been a fluke she realised. There was no way she was actually pregnant. Not after a single occurrence of unprotected sex.
But then she took another test. And then another. They all came up positive. Fuck, she really was pregnant. And she didn't even know the name of the father.
Actually, it was pretty easy to find out the name of the father. Her little brother was into Formula One, and she recognised him the moment he walked onto the screen.
She hadn't told her family of her pregnancy yet, and she wouldn't, not until she absolutely had to. She hid her pregnancy tests in her apartment and headed off to spend time with them.
It was a Sunday, so of course her brother was watching Formula One while her mother prepared Sunday night dinner. She was sat behind her brother, sipping lemonade as the driver's on the screen were interviewed.
The camera slowly panned across the Ferrari garage. Her glass dropped out of her hand, shattering on the floor. "What the hell?" Her brother shrieked as he stood up, avoiding the smashed glass.
"Who is that?" She asked as she pointed to the number 55 driver. He looked just as he did all those weeks ago, somehow better in his black fireproofs and red overalls.
Her brother gave her a frown. "That? That's Carlos Sainz, but why do you care?"
But she had already disappeared into the bathroom to throw up until she was dry heaving. Her baby daddy was Carlos Sainz, the world famous Ferrari driver.
It took her a moment to calm down. When she did, she opened her Instagram and went to his account. She scrolled through his account, as if to make sure it was definitely him. But it was undeniable.
It was a gamble going into his messages. But she had to do something to get his attention, had to let him know what was going on. If he didn't see it then so be it, she didn't need him to raise their baby.
Hi, you might not remember me but we hooked up a month ago. We met in the club and I was wearing a red dress with converse. Well, I'm pregnant.
She sent the message and walked out of the bathroom. The glass had been cleaned up from the living room floor and her family were already sat around the dinner table, the race on in the background. Her legs shook as she joined them.
"Is everything okay, dear?" Her mother asked and she nodded her head. She'd tell them, but not today.
Three days later Carlos Sainz messaged her on Instagram. She couldn't quite believe it when she woke up to that notification.
I remember
That was all he said. It was disappointing, actually. Where did she go from here?
Carlos Sainz said nothing more to her, not until a few months later. She got on with her life while their child grew inside of her, and he got on with his.
Or she assumed he did, at least. Actually, Carlos hadn't stopped thinking about it. It was distracting him from racing and training, and stopping him from eating and drinking.
He remembered her from the club, remembered fucking her. Remembered the way his cock slipped through her velvety folds.
It was one night, it couldn't have been his, right?
After four months of needless stress, Carlos finally messaged her again.
I'm sorry to do this but I need you to prove it to me
No, it was fair enough. She grabbed her pregnancy tests, stood in front of her mirror with her bump exposed. That was the picture she sent to Carlos. That was the picture that made him realise that he really was going to be a father.
Fuck. A new wave of stress rolled through him. What was he supposed to do now?
Are you keeping it?
Yes, she texted back. Yes, I'm keeping it
That wasn't the answer that Carlos wanted to see. He was going to be a father and he really didn't want to.
I want nothing to do with it
She sucked in a breath. Fine, she didn't need him. They didn't need him. But still she accepted Carlos' request on Instagram.
Something in her still wanted his attention. As soon as she could, and for as little money as possible, she booked tickets to the next grand prix.
It was hot, swelteringly so. She was dressed in a tight fitting shirt and shorts that showed off her bump. Her parents paid for paddock passes and she spent as long as she could walking in front of the Ferrari garage.
Carlos noticed her, but not right away. It was a minute before he regnised her. But then he was Marching over to her. "What're you doing here?" He hissed as he pulled her away from prying eyes.
She swallowed thickly. "I..." but she had nothing prepared to say to him, no excuse. She'd hoped him just seeing her bump would change his mind.
But it remained unchanged.
"I'm here with my girlfriend. You can't be here," he said. He hadn’t looked at her bump, not yet. "Get out of here," he hissed.
But she stepped up to him. "I'm having your baby, Carlos."
"It's none of my business." He turned on his heel and walked away.
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mirohlayo · 3 months
Text
F1 DRIVERS AND THEIR FAVORITE
SPOTS TO KISS YOU
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( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )
warning : none, fluff
note : nobody asked but my fav car so far is the sf24 then right after the w15
─ OSCAR PIASTRI
your hands. the back of your hands precisely. it's as simple as him, he loves kissing the back of your hand. he finds it cute but also very affectionate. he's the type of guy who likes subtle touches, subtle way to show off his love for you. so whenever he's holding your hand, he reminds himself to kiss it, brushing his lips softly on your fingers then pressing a kiss on the back of your hand. of course he loves kissing you, both your face and the rest of your body, but he makes your hand his favorite space to leave plenty kisses. sweet and tender kisses.
─ LANDO NORRIS
your lips. boy is addicted to your lips. kissing you is one of his favorite activities, especially when it comes to your lips. they just taste sweet against his ones. but he also likes different types of kiss. sometimes it's a little rougher, then sometimes it's just so soft and gentle. he loves to vary the kisses but he especially loves how your lips move against his. just ask him to kiss you and the second later he's already pecking every part of your face, avoiding your lips because he wants to save them for last. the best for the end of course.
─ CHARLES LECLERC
the corner of your lips. it's so cute yet so hot at the same time. this spot is his favorite one because it makes him feel so captivated by you and the kiss but also it can simply change the atmosphere and make the kiss so much more sensual. the corner of your lips is a warning of what can happen next. it's like the limit to cross to be able to enjoy a real kiss. but it's still so sweet, the way he's caring about how it feels. you always ask for more when he's pressing his lips on this spot, and of course he can't refuse. after all, he needs more too.
─ CARLOS SAINZ
your neck. when i say your neck, it can be every part of it. back of your neck or even the crook of your neck. it really depends on his mood. when your back is to him, he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and press softly his lips on the back of your neck. and then he pecks this spot until your giggles stop. or when it's cuddle time, and that his head is hiding in the crook of your neck, he randomly starts to leave kisses here and there, soft and wet. it's just pure sign of affection.
─ LEWIS HAMILTON
your face. this man doesn't really have a real favorite spot, he just loves kissing every part of your face. forehead, cheeks, lips, moles, literally everything. as long as he can kiss you, it doesn't matter. he thinks your face is the perfect place for him to leave all types of kiss. he also adores discovering new parts to kiss. he admires your pretty face and then scans every single spots just to kiss the ones his lips never touche before. which is impossible from the fact he literally kissed every little corner of your face.
─ GEORGE RUSSEL
your forehead. his favorite spot by far. forehead kisses are definitely made for him. it's such a easy way to show off his whole love by just a simple touch. on such a simple yet cute spot of your face. some would think it's more friendly, but you know from the way he kisses you so tenderly that it is pure love. and this spot is just perfect for every situation. in public, private, softer moments or emotional moments. he's never afraid to kiss you here when he knows he can fully express his love.
─ MAX VERSTAPPEN
your shoulders. he's obsessed with this spot i swear. he doesn't know why your shoulders in particular but he adores leaving plenty sweet kisses on them. he would start pressing his soft lips against yours then slowly go down to your shoulders. bonus point if you wear a top that shows your shoulders. but he keeps this spot for private moments. just when there are you and him. he wants to make every single touches so perfect, that's why he prefers to not show affection in public.
─ DANIEL RICCIARDO
your cheeks. your cute cheeks. same, he's completely obsessed with them. he loves to gently squeeze your cheeks, it just makes you adorable. of course he can't resist to this cuteness, he needs to kiss your big cheeks. and you always blush after that, which is even more adorable because then he doesn't stop leaving more and more kisses on this spot. this boy can literally kiss your red cheeks every minute without getting tired. and obviously it's the same for you. you also loves kissing his cheeks.
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velocesainz · 2 months
Text
Le reali
(CS55)
F1 masterlist | main masterlist
summary: Carlos hasn't publicly dated anyone in over 3 years and people get suspicious. He tries to tell his friends that he's dating the heiress of Italy but they don't believe him until a special moment.
Warnings: None, cursing?, fluffy
Pairing: Carlos x Italian!princess!reader
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Carlos showed the entire text chain to y/n and as she scrolled through the responses bursted into laughter at lando's response to Carlos.
"Love, I wasn't pissed. I was just annoyed that he was feeding into rumours. Poor Lando must've been scared out of his wits" y/n told Carlos.
Carlos chuckled "Lando deserves to be scared out of his wits from time to time darling. How else would he function effectively and not spill our secret in front of the entire world?" he told y/n
"I guess you're right" y/n laughed.
"Amore?" Carlos called out to y/n
"Si, Corázon?" Y/n replied adjusting in the bed to meet his eye.
"Do you ever want to go public? I mean I'm not forcing you to go public, just asking. We've been together for 3 years now" Carlos asked with a thoughtful and soft expression on his face.
"Of course Corázon, I would love to. Do you want to maybe go public on the day of the Monza GP? I've already gotten an invite and will be giving out the trophies" y/n replied with a soft smile.
"That would be absolutely wonderful amore" Carlos said softly and held her close.
Timeskip:
"Ready to go sis?" y/n's brother asked her as it was time to leave for the GP
She was only going to go for the race day otherwise it would seem suspicious to the public and they wanted to be extra careful.
"Yea yeah let's go" Y/n called out grabbing her brothers hand and getting into the car.
She was more than ready to reveal to the world her relationship with the love of her life
Meanwhile: (Carlos Pov)
"Mate is your girlfriend ever going to come or are you just pranking us all?" Charles asked me while everyone was waiting around in the paddock for y/n to come.
"Yea mate, no shame in saying you haven't been able to get girls for the past 3 years. At least don't live in the delusion that the direct heir to the Italian throne is your girlfriend."
Nobody believed me except Lando since he's met her but everyone thinks me and him are pranking them together.
I would get my sweet sweet revenge.
But deep down I was scared. I was planning to propose to her soon. If I got on the podium today, I would propose and I've never been more scared for a race in my life.
Her entire family would watch me race for their country and would also find out about our relationship because she was very private and didn't share even with her family. Would they approve of me? Would they force me and her to break up?
Just then her family walked into the paddock and everyone immediately stood up and greeted the family but she was not in sight.
"So Prince b/n how do you feel about your sister dating our friend over here?" Fernando asked her brother and dragged me into his view
"Dating? I wasn't aware that my sister was dating anyone. That too with a commoner? Not expected." Her brother replied and my heart slowly sank to my stomach.
The rest of the grid came up to me.
"See Carlos? How would you be dating Prince y/b/n's sister without him knowing? Stop living in your delusion" Max said
"Mate such delusion isn't good for you at all. You should start seeing the team therapist a little more" Charles added.
The rest of the grid exchanged glances of amusement and worry while Lando came over to me.
"Don't worry Carlos, I believe you. Don't listen to them. You and Y/n have a beautiful relationship and she told me that she didn't want to inform her brother of her relationship status since she, frankly, hates him" Lando told me and I felt slightly better.
but her brother didn't approve of me, why would the rest of her family? I was internally panicking when Y/n's father King f/n came up to me and took me aside
"So you're the lad dating my daughter huh?" He asked me
"Si señor, I love Y/n with all my heart" I responded slightly nervous about his response
"She made a good choice, how long have you both been together? She didn't give me many details" He asked
"We've been together for 3 years senor. We met when I was invited to the royal house for my medal" I replied feeling better that at least her father approved of us
"And no proposal?" He said with a smirk on his face
"I was planning on proposing to her if I get on the podium for the race today and also wanted your blessings señor" I answered
"Good good. I've seen that she's been much happier around the palace ever since she started dating you. She truly loves you and you have mine and her mother's blessing. May you both be forever happy together" with that he left as I the race was about to start.
I gave Ricciardo my ring box and gave him all the instructions before getting into the car.
After the race:
I couldn’t believe it.
I had won in Monza.
The crowd was going absolutely wild as I got out of my car and the mechanics lined up outside tapping my helmet congratulating me.
I felt like I was in a dream.
I looked over to the vip box and I saw y/n in all her glory.
The look of admiration she had and her soft smile made me fall for her all over again.
That was when I knew nothing else mattered.
It didn’t matter to me that her brother didn’t approve of our relationship. It didn’t matter to me that my friends didn’t believe my relationship.
I had her and that was all that mattered.
The podium ceremony came quickly and y/n’s brother gave out the p2 and p3 trophies.
Then came my turn and y/n walked into the podium with the most elegant red dress I’ve ever seen.
She looked absolutely ethereal and I couldn’t wait for her to be mine forever.
She handed me the trophy and I raised it over my head after which I leaned in to kiss her.
The crowd went absolutely wild when they saw the scene.
I took the ring box from Ricciardo and got on one knee and I saw tears welling up in her eyes.
“Y/n. You have made me the happiest person these past 3 years and it would mean the world to me if you were with me for the rest of my life. Y/n m/n l/n will you marry me?” I asked her pouring the emotions out.
“Yes Carlos! Of course I’ll marry you” she said and hugged me tight.
I slipped the ring on her finger and we kissed once again.
Timeskip:
“Hey Carlos, sorry about all the comments we passed. We really couldn’t believe that you were actually in a relationship with the princess of Italy. We apologise for our actions” Charles apologised to me on behalf of the rest of the grid
“It’s ok mate, I myself can’t believe that I bagged a literal princess” I laughed
Y/n came back to me and it was time for us to leave.
In the car y/n sat leaning her head against my shoulder
“Our wedding is going to be one of the most celebrated occasions in Italy you know? They’re going to keep it as a national holiday and it will be broadcasted live on tv for everyone to see. Are you sure you’re ok with that?” She asked me in a soft voice
“Of course amore , as long as in the end I get to be with you. I’m ready to do anything.”
A/n: hope you guys enjoyed this fic. Took me a while to come up with it. Would appreciate feedback and suggestions. Also please send me any requests you have! Kissies ✨
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