#the rain martin x reader
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Glad You’re Here - Martin (The Rain)
I fucking LOVED this show, and I was so disappointed to see that there wasn’t much of a fandom for it. I swear I will build a fandom for this show up from the ground if I have to.
My Masterlist.
angst, hurt/comfort, x gender neutral reader
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: Injury, canon violence (if any). Not proofread.
Summary: Reader and Martin get into an argument, and Reader breaks off from the group on their own, hiding a nasty wound. It gets infected and they get terribly sick.
"You know what? Fine. Okay. I'm not going to die with the rest of you." I grit my teeth, glaring at the soldier in front of me. I took one last look at everyone, before turning away and tucking my knife back into its sheath on my thigh, limping off into the forest.
The previous fight against the people trying to take Rasmus had taken a toll on all of us, but they had regrouped quickly; and my own group was already more than ready to fight for him again. They were a bunch of idiots. A bunch of idiots that were willing to get themselves killed for that stupid boy. I told myself. I wasn't going to lose anymore people for him. Not again.
My foot suddenly caught on a tree root, sending me tumbling to the ground. I panted, clutching the now open wound on my side and rolling onto my back. I blinked hard as my vision spun, noticing the dark clouds begin to roll in. Cursing under my breath, I staggered to my feet and set off in a random direction at a clumsy pace. I had no idea where I was.
Maybe I was going to be the idiot to die.
I shook my head at that thought, stumbling forward and gripping onto trees for support. I had been severely injured during our last fight, being shot once, and winged another time, as well as breaking my ankle. I had lost a lot of blood, and I was still weak from it and struggling to recover. Being too stubborn to accept help, I hadn't even set my ankle, to avoid suspicion. Our medical supplies were limited, and everyone else had been injured worse.
I suddenly spotted what looked like a school in the distance, and I breathed out a sigh of relief, picking up my pace. And not a moment's too soon I opened the door forcefully, as a heavy downpour began. I wandered around aimlessly before heading straight for the nurse's office. There wasn't much left-it had been looted already, it looked like-but in a drawer, I found a half empty bottle of painkillers. I immediately shook some out into my palm, downing them with a gulp of water. I began to search for other things I would need; bandages, and antibiotics for the winged shot on my side that I was sure had been infected by now. I managed to find bandages and gauze, but only empty bottles of antibiotics. Not even any alcohol.
I grimaced as I opened my water bottle, which wasn't even half full. I tugged my shirt up, removing the bandage with a wince. The wound was an angry, swollen red all around it and it was hot to the touch. With a grimace, I poured about half of my remaining water over it, which did little to clean it. I did all that I could do, securing a gauze pad over it and beginning to work on the one in my abdomen. Afterwards, I wrapped my ankle tightly in gauze and tape, stabilizing it the best I could, and curled onto the cot tiredly.
I woke up shivering and burning. I turned onto my side with a small groan, pulling the thin blanket over me. The amount of energy it took just to do that should have been concerning to me, but a fog had settled over my brain, and I would have felt almost in a dream-like state had it not been for the terrible pain I felt all over. Each breath was difficult and painful. My mouth was terribly, painfully dry, but I was unable to reach for my water bottle. I stared at it longingly until I finally succumbed to fatigue once again.
A shuffling awoke me this time, and I jolted up in alarm, struggling onto my elbows with renewed strength. My eyes darted around, and my hand hesitantly went to the knife on my thigh before I realized it had an IV hooked to it. Footsteps rounded the corner, and I shrank back, hastily pulling the IV out and swinging my legs over the cot. I immediately regretted it as a wave of nausea hit me, hard. I hunched over, fighting the urge to throw up, until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I flinched back, my head snapping up to meet the threat.
"Martin?" I croaked out, my eyes slowly bringing his face into focus. Completely forgetting our argument, I slumped against him in relief. He wrapped his arms around me, tenderly rubbing my back, before he suddenly pulled away, resting the back of his hand against the side of my neck and frowning. He pressed a hand to my chest, gently urging me to lie back on the cot. For once, I complied, feeling weak and helpless. I relaxed into the cot with a small sigh, watching as he stood up.
"Don't leave me." I mumbled, managing to catch his fingers with mine. He looked at our intertwined hands for a moment, before taking his hand back and leaving the room without a word. The feeling of regret hung heavy over me, making it even harder to breathe. I drew in a labored breath, closing my eyes, and knowing that I was at least safe now. I trusted that, no matter what terms we were on, Martin wouldn't let any harm come to me.
Before I could drift off again, I heard his footsteps coming back down the hall. I forced my heavy eyelids open, eyeing him wearily as he approached me with something in his hands that I couldn't make out. He sat on my bedside, taking the IV I had tugged out into his hands carefully, and holding his hand out for my arm. I groaned, tucking my arm under the sheets.
"They're antibiotics." He insisted. He knew about my fear of needles.
"I'm fine." I protested, attempting to sit up again. He eyed me carefully as I did so, but made no move to stop me. My jaw clenched, and my face screwed up in pain, but I managed to prop myself against the corner, a pale, shaky hand settling over my injured abdomen. I tried to ignore the burning heat coming from the wound.
"Where's everyone else?" I asked tiredly.
"At the bunker." He replied shortly, looking away.
"I'm sorry." I started, my timid voice barely above a whisper. "It's just..We've lost so many people already and seeing that almost happen to you…" I hesitated. "..yesterday..? I can't…I don't want to lose you-" I broke off before my voice could crack, looking down at my feet.
"I know. I understand, but we're in this together. Nobody gets to go running off." He finally met my gaze, looking exhausted.
"I'm sorry." I repeated, breaking off with a cough and a wheeze. He gave me a concerned glance.
"That happened three days ago." He eventually informed me, eyeing me up and down for my reaction.
"Oh." I whispered. "How long have you been here?"
"Two days."
"Martin I-" I began. He immediately cut me off.
"Don't, not right now. I'm just glad you're still here. I thought you were gone."
He took me in his arms, holding me tightly to his chest, the gesture admitting how scared he had been at the thought of losing me. I held onto him as tight as I could, sucking in a shaky breath and then wincing. His hands began to gently run across my back in a comforting manner. I relaxed into him in exhaustion. He was careful as he gently pulled me down onto the cot with him, tucking an arm securely around my waist. I sighed contentedly, knowing we were both safe right now, in the current moment. That was all that mattered.
#the rain#the rain netflix#martin the rain#the rain martin#the rain martin x reader#martin x reader#simone and martin#i still respect them and i absolutely love their relationship#but the ending ugh#they deserved SO MUCH BETTER THAN THAT#the rain fanfiction#the rain netflix fanfiction#hurt/comfort#angst#the rain angst
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okeyyyy!
but we need a Grid Kids that maybe y/n and seb were in an car accidente (and y/n took the worst of it) and now the roles are reversed, now they are gonna take care of them
Loving this series so much
Grid Kids: UNO Reverse Card
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: the roles are reversed when disaster strikes and your grid kids make it their duty to take care of you
Series Masterlist
The rain is pouring down and the paddock is filled with the usual organized chaos accompanying a wet race. The garages are lively with the sounds of mechanics tuning engines, engineers going over data, and drivers preparing for the race.
Suddenly, a deafening silence descends as a member of the Aston Martin team rushes in, face pale and voice shaking, “There’s been an accident. It’s Sebastian and Y/N.”
The news spreads like wildfire. The paddock, usually filled with the roars of engines and excited chatter, is now eerily quiet. Your grid kids, upon hearing the news, rush to find out more details, their faces masks of concern.
A shaky video from a fan’s phone plays on loop on their screens, showing the aftermath of a devastating collision. Your car is almost unrecognizable, crushed, with the driver’s side visibly less damaged.
George, having seen the video, collapses onto a nearby chair, tears streaming down his face. “This can’t be happening,” he whispers.
Lando, usually the life of the party, stands frozen, disbelief evident in his eyes. Mick, face ashen, tries to make calls to get more information while Lance rushes to find his father to find out if the team has heard anything more.
***
Soon, details emerge that you bore the brunt of the impact and your condition is critical while Sebastian, though injured, is stable. The helicopter is already airlifting you to the nearest hospital.
As the severity of the situation sinks in, your grid kids, in an unprecedented move, gather together for an emergency meeting. The weight of the decision is clear in their eyes.
After what feels like an eternity, Charles stands up, his voice firm yet choked with emotion, “We’re pulling out. We can’t race knowing Y/N is fighting for her life. We need to be there for her, just like she’s always been there for us.”
The decision is unanimous. One by one, they all agree. Telling their teams and the FIA descends the paddock into even more chaos.
***
The hospital waiting room is filled with a mix of team colors. Red from Ferrari, orange from McLaren, deep blue from Red Bull, green from Aston Martin, white from Haas, and black from Mercedes. The fierce rivalry that usually defines race weekends is nowhere to be seen. Instead, they’re united in their concern for you.
Sebastian, despite his injuries, is by your bedside, holding your hand, praying silently for a miracle.
As the hours drag on, the grid kids take turns sitting by your side, sharing stories, hoping their voices provide some comfort, even in your unconscious state.
Mick, teary-eyed, recalls, “Remember when I missed my dad? You were there for me.”
Lando adds, “And when I just wanted milk? You welcomed me like family.”
Charles, voice filled with emotion, says, “We’re here now, for you, just like you’ve always been for us.”
***
As night turns into dawn, there’s a shift. Your vitals start stabilizing and the worst seems to be over. The relief is palpable as the somber mood hanging over your family fades away.
Sebastian, tears of gratitude in his eyes, thanks each one of them. “She’s strong, and with all of you here, I knew she’d find a way to fight through.”
***
A week has passed since the accident and you’re now firmly in the recovery phase. The room is overflowing with flowers, cards, and quirky gifts — each one a symbol of just how much you mean to the racing community.
As you slowly regain consciousness, groggy from the medication, the first thing you spot is a balloon, bobbing near the ceiling, with the words “Speedy Recovery!” It has a little caricature of you in a race car with your cat (in a tiny sweater) on your shoulder. Another one reads, “Get back on track soon!”
Mick enters the room with a tray, “Look who’s awake! I made you my special recovery smoothie. Okay, it’s mostly chocolate ... but it’s the thought that counts.”
Charles follows, holding a peculiar-looking teddy bear dressed in a racing suit. “Meet Racy. He’s going to keep you company. We tried to smuggle Speedy in under our hoodies but got caught so this is the next best thing.”
Lando waltzes in, proudly holding up a t-shirt with “I survived a car crash and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” printed on it.
Max pops his head around the door, holding a full-sized F1 helmet, “You better wear this the next time you get in a car.”
George, with his trademark smile, presents a plush safety car. “To keep you safe and sound, always.”
Lance, trying to contain his grin, brings in a steering wheel cushion. “For those moments when you feel the need to take control of your recovery.”
You can’t help but chuckle at their antics. “You guys ... always know how to lighten the mood.”
Sebastian, holding your hand, grins, “They’ve been brainstorming ways to cheer you up nonstop for days now.”
***
Determined to keep things positive, your grid kids rally together for a surprise. As the evening descends, they transform your room into a mini-movie theater. They even managed to sneak in a projector.
The movie choice? “Cars” of course.
Lance, armed with a bucket of popcorn, declares, “I mean, if we can’t race real cars today, might as well watch animated ones!”
Mick dims the lights and George hits play. As the familiar sounds of the movie fill the room, everyone settles in ready for a night of laughter.
***
It doesn’t take long for the grid kids to turn the movie night into their own commentary session.
As Lightning McQueen races across the screen, Max quips, “I think I could’ve taken that turn better.”
Lando, laughing, chimes in, “And Mater reminds me of Charles after a few too many energy drinks.”
Charles feigns outrage, “That’s unfair! I’m at least 10 percent more sophisticated than Mater.”
You, through bouts of laughter, shake your head, “Honestly, I can’t decide what's better, the movie or your commentary? You guys might have a future on a broadcast somewhere if this whole racing thing doesn’t work out.”
As the credits roll, Sebastian whispers, “This is exactly the medicine you needed.”
Your grid kids truly make the day memorable, proving that through thick and thin, family — in whatever form it may take — is everything.
***
The sun is high and the paddock is buzzing with energy as preparations for the upcoming race are in full swing. As you and Sebastian approach, there’s a sudden almost comedic halt in activity. It’s as if someone hit the pause button on a remote. Everyone turns to face you, jaws dropped.
Lance feigns fainting, “Is it a mirage? Or has our beloved Y/N truly graced us with her presence?”
Max approaches with an exaggerated limp, mimicking you, “Thought I’d get into the spirit of things,” he says with a smirk.
George emerges from the crowd holding a makeshift red carpet (it’s just a red towel he stole from Ferrari), rolling it out in front of you. “For our returning queen,” he declares with a bow.
Charles and Lando appear, each holding one end of a “Welcome Back” banner. You try to turn your head to read it … they accidentally held it upside down.
You’re trying hard to hold back tears of laughter. “You guys are impossible,” you manage to say between your chuckles.
Mick, with a gentle smile, approaches holding a small framed photo. It’s of you surrounded by all your grid kids, taken during a race earlier in the season, with the inscription “Family, Always.”
Touched by the gesture, you softly say, “Thank you so much, Mick. This means a lot.”
“You’ve always been there for us,” he replies. “It’s only right that we’re here for you.”
Sebastian, wrapping an arm around you, adds with a grin, “I think they missed you.”
You really loved your grid kids.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#sebastian vettel x reader#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lance stroll x reader#george russell x reader#lando norris x reader#mick schumacher x reader#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#sebastian vettel imagine#max verstappen imagine#charles leclerc imagine#lance stroll imagine#george russell imagine#lando norris imagine#mick schumacher imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader
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Long live the walls we crashed through
Max Verstappen x driver!reader
Summary: you are involved in a crash so horrid everyone assumes you couldn’t have survived.
WC: just under 2k
You honestly didn’t know what exactly had happened yourself. You remember when everyone was waiting for the rain to end, so the race could begin. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like the downfall was going to stop anytime soon. All drivers were instructed to wait on the starting grid, so you and Charles, who was starting P5 next to your P6, where keeping each other entertained by playing some stupid game involving a lot of hand gestures. “Okay, I’ve just received word they are going to try and start the race despite the wet conditions.” your engineer’s voice interrupts you while you here trying to gesture a horse to Charles. “What? In this weather? Are they sure?” What you really had wanted to ask if they were plotting to murder one of the drivers or if they were just plain stupid. You look over at Charles as you saw his body language change, you assumed he had just gotten a similar message. “They gave us some vague reasons about the fans waiting and keeping the fight for the championship as exciting as possible,” your engineer explained.
The race had started out boring, slow, and mainly wet. None of drivers really felt secure while driving so there were almost no overtakes, no battles for a better place, nothing to entertain fans. Not that you thought that mattered considering you were quite sure the track wasn’t even visible from the stands thanks to the rain. However, between lap 4 and 5 the conditions started to better and some battles emerged on the track and positions started changing. You had managed to overtake both Charles and George, leaving only a certain Aston Martin driver standing between you and a place on the podium. The weather was almost dry at that moment, but you didn’t realise, no, you were only focused beating Alonso and joining your boyfriend on the podium. (Because let’s be honest best-case scenario: he was first, again. Worst case? Second) What you also failed to notice was a red car behind you disappearing to pit for slicks, because his team was so sure it would stay dry.
Although what had occurred after happened in a blitz, you could still remember that part as well. The Ferrari driver had just joined the track again and was being separated from you by George, when suddenly, the rain came back. It didn’t start with a drizzle, no warning droplets, just from zero to one hundred faster than any f1 car could. You vision was now reduced to that of a senior mole, giving you indication about the location of the driver in front of you. Lucky for you, you were familiar with the track at this point, so you didn’t worry about crashing yourself, but an invisible man in front of you was plenty of worry. You could hear your radio turning on, but you never heard what your teams plan of action was.
Because unbeknownst to you Charles, his brand-new slicks, the rain, and a nasty sharp turn steered his car into the young Mercedes driver. It was only a slight, soft touch. Just a tick. A little nudge if you must name it. But in those bad conditions George started to spin. But before he had started to spin and before he had been touched by the Ferrari, he had shortened the distance between the two of you by quite a lot. So, when he spun it took less than three seconds to feel his car touch something again. Now this wasn’t a nudge this is where your memory gets a little hazy.
George’s car spun into you. You lost control as well. You went through a wall. You flipped upside down. The car broke in two. Fire. Lots of fire. You got out.
You got out. You don’t remember how you did it, but you lived, and you were standing next to the burning vehicle. Half in shock from what happened you couldn’t deter your eyes from the flames you were a part of moments ago. You stood there in complete stillness contrasting your team’s garage at the same time.
“Max please come in, red flag.” “Yeah, I thought I saw something in my mirrors. I saw some yellow tints. Was that fire? Is everybody OK?” “Just come in, please, we’ll explain then.”
Max jumped out of his car once he reached his team garage, where it was unusually quiet. “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me over the radio?” Max already started asking his questions before he had even pulled his balaclava all the way off, so his words sounded more like scrambled mumbles. Not that it really mattered; his team knew what he wanted to know. “Wait, why did only I get called in?” he asked once he noticed your car wasn’t on the other side of the garage, where it usually would be if you had to wait out a red flag. Max averted his gaze from the empty spot to the mechanics, who gave each other looks as if to say “I’m not saying it. You do it.” “Max,” he heard Horner trying to catch his attention. Normally the presence of the team principal would make him wonder what was bad enough that he had to intervene himself instead of sending someone else to deal whit whatever the issue was. Right then, however, he didn’t have to wonder. His eyes had caught the screens behind the engineers displaying a view of the track. This wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary if it wasn’t for your car. Specifically, the back side of your car; he couldn’t see the front, but he assumed it must have gone through the barrier. “Along with you,” he couldn’t stop himself from thinking. Due to the fire, he couldn’t see or estimate the severity of the crash, but it did not look good. “You have her vitals, right?” he asked Horner, who had been tuning out ‘til now. “Well,” the principal began. “You’ve talked to her through the radio. Please. Tell me you know she’s alright.” Max said more as a question. At the lack of response his head started spinning. “We haven’t been able to contact her yet. No input about her vitals has come in since the crash.” Max stopped listening after that and just bolted to his driver’s room. Shutting the door behind himself, he was glad none of his team members tried to follow or stop him. Tears were already forming in his eyes while he turned on the small tv to be able to check on any updates regarding your crash.
Meanwhile you were already on your way to the team’s garage. You were surprised that no reporters intercept you on your way there, but you figured they were just focused on the crash site. You knew you should’ve gone to the medical centre first, but you felt fine and cared more to let everyone know you were alright. As you made your way trough the paddock, you start to wonder if people knew you got out of the car. They didn’t, you had no way of knowing this of course but at that time fire marshals were busy putting the fire out.
Max was watching them on the screen in his room, trying not to think about you in there. He almost threw up at the idea that you were still in there and that you might never come out, or that you might already be gone. He really didn’t want to, but he just couldn’t stop his mind frow straying to thought about waking up without you beside him, having dinner alone, never getting to complain about your shoes lying in the middle of the hallway again. His thoughts were about to make him physically sick when there was a nock on the door. He really didn’t want to be disturbed so he didn’t even bother responding. Another few nocks got ignored until he got fed up and shouted, “Leave me alone.” His request however got denied as a male voice sounded from the other side of the door. “We have an… update on the crash.” Max recognized the voice as one of the mechanics who was in the garage earlier. Although he was pissed off that he hadn’t been left to sulk in his misery alone, he was intrigued by the news, since there had been no new information shared on the broadcast he had been following on his TV. He also got scared, considering it was most likely that whatever it was it wouldn’t be good.
You were chatting to a still slightly worried Horner when you heard someone rapidly approaching you. You turn your head to see Max walking towards you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Hi,” you said softly right before he reached you. When he did, he just looked at you for a split second and then pulled you in his arms. He put is head in the crook of your neck, pulling you up to your tippy toes to reach it, and held his arms so tight around you that you believed it would leave a permanent indentation in your ribcage. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” you suggested, suddenly feeling the eyes of everyone around you burning in your back. “Okay.” Max said before almost dragging you into your driver’s room, considering it was a little closer by than his. He shut the door behind you and was back beside you before you could even bat an eye. “Are you alright?” he asks as he takes your face in both his hands. “I’m fine.” You pull one of his hands away from your face and just hold it. “You really scared me,” he said right before he pulled you in for a hug. “Well, I didn’t mean to,” you respond. “Just don’t ever do that again,” he says while he starts placing soft kisses on your face and head. “Wasn’t planning on it,” you scoff before pulling him in for a real kiss. You two stand there for a while, just holding each other, before you decide to rejoin the paddock.
“For a moment I really thought I killed you,” George confesses. Every knew you survived the seemingly survivable crash and the mood throughout the whole track was a lot less heavy than it had been a few minutes before. “It wasn’t your fault, you know that. Even if something worse would’ve happened I wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for a single second,” you explain. “It’s a risk we all take every time we get into that car and we’re all very much aware of it,” you add. “And it isn’t like I could leave anyway,” you smile. “why’s that?” George asks. “I mean who would play gestures with Charles before the races?” you look over at Charles before getting cut off by your boyfriend’s voice. “It’s not our fault you two won’t explain your made-up game to anyone else,” he protests. In response you and Charles give him a universal recognized obscene gesture while laughing to yourselves. While the conversation takes another turn you take some time realizing how lucky you are; not just for surviving the crash but for the amazing life you had. You wrap your arms around Max and lean you head against his upper body. “What is this for?” he asks but wastes no time in returning the gesture also wrapping his arms around you. “Do I need a reason to show I love boyfriend al of a sudden?” you playfully say. Max just smiles and says, “I love you too.”
Part 2
AN: So, this was my first ever fanfic so fee back and corrections are more than welcome. Also, I do have an idea for a part two so lmk if you would like that.
#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff
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My Lady Strong (I)
Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?
word count: 1,645
CW: childbirth, Aegon being Aegon, Bullying, child abuse, fear of the dark, refrences to torture, loving parents, oc is described to have brown hair, streaked with silver and purple eyes
Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)
Masterlist | series masterlist | next part
disclamer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire charecters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all charecters are his except for my OC
When Rhaenyra fell pregnant for a second time, she knew it would be different.
For the birth of Jacaerys, her pregnancy was followed with mass celebrations, house Veleryon showering her with gifts, proud that a child with Velaryon blood would sit on the iron throne. But after his birth, the celebrations ceased. Whispers swept through the court, questioning his birth. But after a few months, many came to the agreement it was his grandmother Rhaenys Baratheon’s blood shining through, she once looked more Baratheon than Targeryen and the child was merely taking after her.
But then she fell pregnant again, and though she was once more greeted with celebrations, the court held its breath.
One child born with the Baratheon looks was one thing, genetics was a mystery and it was pure chance he had brown hair and eyes.
But if this child too had the ‘Baratheon looks’ then it would all but confirm the rumours queen Alicent spun.
But that was not why Rhaenyra felt this pregnancy to be different, unlike her first pregnancy, she had different symptoms, morning skinniness, new cravings, and where before she had always had clear skin she was getting pimples and spots. She hoped for a girl, having always wanted a little sister, and now she would have a daughter. She had only ever imagined having girls, and though she was not disappointed at having a boy when the masters spoke of their predictions of it being a girl, she got a little jump in her step.
So, when she went into labour, whilst the court held its breath waiting for the legitimacy of her children to be confirmed, she held her excitement over having a daughter.
The day of her labour was not cheerful, the skies were grey and cloudy and when her contractions began rain fell from the sky, a storm from Stormsend having reached KingsLanding.
With the wind rattling against the windows, and thunder striking down from the sky, the family waiting outside, Viserys pacing the halls. Alicent biting her nails. This labour was tough, though Jacaerys birth had been easy, this had taken double the time his had, her screams, louder than even the storm raging outside. And when it all stopped the family feared the worse.
The young prince Aemond, only eighteen moons old had awoken, screaming insisting he is with his mother. Only to arrive just in time to hear his niece's screams and his eldest sister's laughter.
He rushed into her room, not even allowing time for his father to check on his daughter, before jumping up (as well as a toddler could) and sitting next to his sister insisting on holding his niece. Tired from the labour Rhaenyra agreed.
When her father and Alicent finally entered, they were quick to approach. Alicent caught a glimpse of black hair streaked with silver.
“A girl?” Viserys questioned, smiling down at the babe in Aemonds arms.
Nodding, Rhaenyra smiled “Aemma” she declared, causing a delighted laugh to leave Viserys mouth.
“She looks just like her, the Arryn genes are strong with her it seems, she even has your mother’s eyes.” And she did, Arryn blue eyes, not violet, as she had dreamed, but perfect.
She had attempted to take Aemma back from Aemond, but he had not let go, simply smiling and babbling to his niece, his Aemma.
As the years went by Aemond continued to stay with Aemma, scarcely letting her stray from his sight, his hand always holding hers. Where one was, the other was always near. Being the only two without a dragon, his never hatching, and her own destroyed along following the storm on the day of her birth, they had the same lessons, with no dragon lessons, they were very rarely apart.
Aemma had grown into a sweet, beautiful, and intelligent girl. Her looks compared to that of her great-grandmother, Daella, alongside her sweet nature. She had an innocence around her, being the middle child and only girl of her mother, her mother wished to preserve the child-like wonder for her daughter, wishing to grant her daughter the childhood of being the heir and the only child of a king stolen from her. Aemond was all too pleased to keep her like this, wanting to preserve her wonder, her need for him. Though book smart, the sheltered life she lived kept her from the real world. She was even protected from rumours, though they still were whispered, all desired to keep her from them.
She was a kind girl and underserving of the cruelty of court, but even that did not protect her from her family. Alicent had always been fond of her, always allowing her near her children, being kind, braiding her hair and even commissioning gifts for her. She was close to Heleana, the pair, whenever Aemond left her alone, often found each other’s company. Aemma was one the few people to share her interest in insects, even going out of her way to collect any that she thought Heleana might enjoy. But Aegon and her brothers were another story. Aegon was a jealous person, envying his niece for the kindness his mother never found him, so he took it out on her.
When Jacaerys let slip Aemma’s fear of the dark, an idea struck him.
The black cells.
Aemma rarely slept alone, with Aemond often sneaking in and sleeping with her, hating the moments apart even when they sleep. When he was sick, they often slept apart, his fear of catching his illness, however little or contagious it was. And her chambers always had candles lit for when she did sleep, a reassurance that whatever lurked in the dark was stopped by the glow of a candle.
Aegon waited for Aemond to fall ill, for a time he knew she would be alone. And snuck into her chambers, her brothers by his side.
It was the dead of night, the boys aged 9 and 6 tired but willing to please their uncle, snuck into her rooms and carried her through the keep down to the third level of black cells.
Being a deep sleeper, she didn’t wake once, not even flinch when Aegon picked her up and then dumped her in the cells.
They had run off giggling, thinking it a brilliant prank, and a way to cure her of her fear, as Aegon put it.
They had thought it would be overcome morning, that she would wake in the dark before finding the door and leaving.
None of them expected her to be locked in there for a week, they did not know the doors were locked and only opened from the outside.
The keep was in disarray searching for her, neither boy spoke up, fear of their punishment keeping them.
Aemond was driving everyone mad, ordering and screaming for her to be found. He was normally a shy quiet boy, unsure of himself. But with his Aemma missing all that was left of him was a madman.
The rest of the keep was in disarray. All guards were on the lookout for the princess, searching high and low. She had completely disappeared, without a trace.
The boys were growing nervous, they couldn’t admit to what had been done and they feared the black cells too much to return and retrieve her.
Aemma had woken in complete darkness, she could even see her hand it was so dark.
She could hear screaming as if they were her own, but she didn’t notice, she didn’t even notice as she crawled forward in her small cell and pounded on the door, begging to be let out. Or as she threw her guts up after hours of screaming and pounding.
She did notice when it all went quiet. When even her screams stopped when the screams of the criminals being tortured turned quiet.
She didn’t know how much time had passed, there was no way to tell day from night.
She slept when she collapsed, her tears lulling her into a tormented sleep, her stomach empty and churning.
She had no food nor water, the dungeon master had no clue she was down here, and no one did.
Not until a week had passed and Aemond dreamt of the black cells. She had refused to rest till she was found, but collapsing from exhaustion lead to his dream, leading his startling awake, and his racing to the cells. Ser Criston Cole was quick to follow him, though he did not care for the girl he still had a duty as a kingsguard. She was found after three hours of searching, three hours of Aemond shouting and ordering guards to search every cell on every level.
Ser Harwin Strong found her, he and her mother had, like Aemond, not stopped, fearing the worse, had not rested. When he found her she was sitting in the corner, head between her legs, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face. She was thin, with chapped lips, her face red and puffed with her never-ending tears.
She screamed when the light poured in, shuffling back into her corner.
“Aemma” Harwin breathed, before alerting the rest of the guard, Aemond came running over, taking her into his arms.
“Aemma” he cooed, taking her hand, she had flinched back from Harwin when he took her hand, but with Aemond she took it, and jumped in his arms, tears falling from her eyes once more. “it’s ok…it’s ok… your safe now” he spoke softly, stroking her hair.
Maesters were quick to attend to her, she was weak and dehydrated. And her mind was still in a panic. She refused to let go of Aemond, using him as a shield when her brothers and Aegon paid her a visit.
She never said who had done it, but her distance and new timid nature around her brothers and uncle was proof enough for Aemond.
But he couldn’t do anything, he was a victim of their bullying. Though they never did something similar or remotely as cruel again, Aemonds crazed state was enough for them to leave Aemma and him alone, at least until the pink dread.
a/n more of an intro chapter, half edited
next part
#yandere aemond targaryen#yandere hotd#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targeryen#aemond#ewan nation#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targeryen x oc#aemond targeryen x fem!oc#obsessive aemond#posessive aemond#myladystrong#dark aemond targaryen#dark aemond x oc#aemond x velaryon!reader#aemond x strong!reader#aemond x reader#aemond fic#aemond x targaryen! reader#ae#house of the dragon aemond
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born to die | fernando alonso x fem! reader
summary: after their engagement, y/n realized her and fernando may have different views of the future. it makes her wonder if they were really born to die.
warnings; age gap, cursing, angst/fluff
word count; 1.28k
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; and this is it u guyssss🥹 i enjoyed this series sm and i’m so thankful 4 everyone who read n enjoyed it<33 im gonna miss it sm but keep a look out for my next music f1 series 😁
‘born to die’ series masterlist !
masterlist !
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“But are you really ready to settle down?” Y/b/f asked Y/n during their biweekly brunch dates. The topic of marriage came about after due to Y/n started wedding planning a few months after being engaged.
Her best friend knew her more than anyone. They grew up together. So Y/b/f knows that Y/n never wanted to settle down so quickly. She knew that she wanted to spend her 20s having fun and completing her master's.
Marrying someone who is already in their 40s and wants to settle down as soon as possible meant there was a conflict between their futures.
“I mean, not yet.” Y/n sighed, grasping into the cup of tea as she shrugged. “I love Fernando, I do. I don’t want kids yet. I want to wait a few years and-“
“But does he know that? That’s a man who wants to settle down already and have a house in the countryside. That’s a man who wants children soon.” Y/b/f interrupted her, genuine concern written all over her face. “He’s a great guy and I love that he makes you happy but is that what you really want? Having kids means giving up a lot and you know that I know that.” She added about her own child. “And He just signed another contract with Aston Martin. If you do have kids, he won’t be around to help you much.”
Y/n let out a groan, running her hands over her face. “I was lost before I met him. I was so confused as a little child but he gave me a sense of meaning. I love Nando, I truly do. But It’s just,” She sighed. She looks out the window of the restaurant and watches busy people walking down the sidewalks. “Now that I think about it, we view the next 5 years completely differently.”
Y/b/f reaches out and grabs her hand, forcing Y/n to look back at her. “Just think about it, okay? I love you and I just want the absolute best for you.”
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Y/n sat on the top step of the front patio of her shared home with Fernando, staring out onto the gloomy skies. Despite it being sunny when she was at brunch, by the time she got home it was drizzling. However, the rain usually calmed her and in a moment where she was deep in her thoughts, she definitely needed to be calmed.
She was so lost in her thoughts of her future that she didn’t notice her fiancé’s Aston Martin pulling up to the driveway. The Spaniard was confused as to why his fiancée was sitting on the patio with a sad look on her face.
“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He asked. He sat down next to her and caressed her arm. Hearing the concern laced in his voice was the triggering act for her.
“Do you think this is the right time for us to get married?” Y/n asked, keeping her eyes on her fiddling fingers. She hears Fernando’s breath hitch as he sits up straight.
“Why do you think that?”
“Fernando, you’re older than me, like a lot older and-“
“You just noticed?” He asked in a teasing tone in hopes to lighten the mood a bit.
She just sighed in response and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fernando, we both have different views of the next 5 to 10 years and you know that. I’m still young. I want to go out and party and enjoy my life. I just started my master's degree. But I know you want to retire in a few years. I know you want to have kids as soon as possible and settle down. But I-“
Y/n takes a deep breath as she glances up at her fiancé. “I don’t want that. Not yet at least. Not until I finish my master's. I don’t want to settle down just yet. Y/b/f had to stop so many things when she had her son. It makes me wonder if we’re really meant to be. Maybe you and I, we were born to die.”
Fernando’s minute of silence made her heart drop. He looked like he was lost in his thoughts, similar to how she was moments prior. “What are you even talking about, Y/n? We were born to die? Come on, mi amor!” He exclaimed, standing up to his feet. Her eyebrows furrowed up as she copied him by also getting on her feet, ignoring how the rain began to come down harder.
“Maybe it’s true, Fernando!”
“It’s bullshit.” He let out a laugh as he ran his hand over his beard. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s bullshit. Yes, we’re different ages. The road gets tough, it happens and I don’t know why, but we carry on. That doesn’t mean we’re born to die. Come on!” He continued, his eyebrows furrowed up.
“Are you even listening-“
“I am and what you’re saying is bullshit like I said!” Fernando responds, taking a step closer to her. “Amor, yes, I want children. Yes, I dream of us one day living on the coasts of Spain with our kids but that doesn’t mean I want it right away. I want you to achieve your degree. I want you to enjoy yourself first because it’s not up to me when we have kids. It’s all you.”
“Yeah, but-“
“What do I have to do to prove this to you?”
Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she tilted her head. “What do you mean ‘prove’ it to me?” She asked, confused by his words.
He takes a step back with a shrug. “Prove that I don’t care if you want to wait to have kids. Prove that I wanna marry you because I love you, not to settle down.”
“Well, you don’t need to prove-“ She pauses in her words when she sees him take a step down. She lets out a sigh, her hands falling to rest by her side. She knew immediately by the glint in his eyes what he wanted to do. “Fernando, no. You’re going to get sick.”
He takes another step down.
“Fernando, stop that!”
He takes one step back and is immediately met with the pouring rain. In seconds, his clothes and hair were drenched but he didn’t care. Not one bit.
“Fernando, come back! The longer you stay there the more likely you’ll be sick.” She scolded him but he simply smiled in reply.
“I’m not leaving unless you join me.”
Y/n crosses her arms, glaring at Fernando who keeps smiling. She let out a sigh of defeat as she took a couple steps down the stairs and made it out into the rain. He immediately pulls her close by her waist. She lets out a yelp and balances herself by holding onto his shoulders.
“I love you and I want to marry you, mi amor. I don’t mind waiting 5, 10, even 15 years for us to have kids and ‘settle’ down.” He loudly says over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. “I just want you.”
She laughs in disbelief, resting her forehead against his chest. “We can figure it all out later, right?”
“It’s just you and me right now, mi amor,” Fernando says. He cups Y/n’s face with one hand, forcing her to look up. He took a second to admire her features and her messed-up makeup from the rain. He leans down, kissing her hard in the pouring rain. Her previous thoughts immediately washed away the moment she felt his lips on her. Maybe they weren’t born to die.
#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 scenario#formula one scenarios#f1 imagine#formula one imagines#formula one imagine#f1 scenarios#fernando alonso scenarios#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso imagine
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The Day the Music Died
I’m sorry that this is gonna be so angsty, but I used to be in the marvel fandom where the reader died all the time and I love this trend on tiktok so
Summary: The Grid has to say goodbye to their favorite girl
2023 F1 Grid x young!fem!reader
(For the sake of this story, reader is Aston Martin driver alongside Fernando, and Lance is the reserved driver, she can also be American if you want to really fit the song)
It was your favorite kind of race, a few hours away from midnight, and it was pouring rain, meaning the race was going to be more unpredictable and chaotic than usual.
You’ve always loved the rain and the extra risk factor it bought to Formula 1, so when your engineer told you the conditions were going to stay the same for the race, a bright smile took over your face, brighter than your usual one.
Your smile was one of your trademarks on the grid, often being compared to Daniel Ricciardo on the matter. Despite the age gap, you and the Australian were quite close and were like walking rays of sunshine when the two of you were together.
You were closest with the other young drivers the most though, Lando, George, Zhou, Yuki, and your teammate Lance being your closest companions.
You describe the grid as being like in a family, your teammate Fernando was like your grid dad, always looking out for you and defending you when the media felt a little extra vicious. The older men on the grid like uncles, looking out for you but letting you have your fun.
Drivers like Carlos, Charles, Pierre, Max, Esteban, and Alex were like cousins, you messed around with each other but always looking out for the other. Reporters called you “the glue” saying that your youthful spirit had helped bond the drivers as more than just competition.
So it made sense that a lot of drivers were worried when your car went into the barriers during the race.
Sunday started off fine, you had a goodnight sleep, hung out with your PR officer for breakfast and walked into the paddock with a smile on your face.
You greeted other drivers and the co-workers you knew as you worked your way to your garage and into your drivers room, changed into your drivers suit and reviewed your strategy with a few engineers before you had to head into the garage to get into your car.
“Radio check Y/n, radio check” Your engineer came over the radio. “Loud and clear” You replied, the adrenaline and excitement already kicking in as you were given the go-ahead to head onto the track for the formation lap. The mist from the cars around you and your soaked visor limited your vision, but you managed to find your way to your spot on the track. You were starting P5 today and were already anxious to start the race.
The flag was waved, the five red lights came on and off before all 20 cars were accelerating down the track, trying to gain positions early. You held on to P5 throughout the race, trying to defend against Carlos Sainz’ Ferrari behind you and trying to overtake Charles Leclerc’s Ferrari in front of you.
It was Lap 25 when you attempted another overtake on Leclerc, speeding down the straight and trying to gain on him before the corner. Right as you were beginning your turn into the corner, your tires locked up and you headed into the barriers, going too fast for your brakes to properly stop the car.
You felt the impact on the right side of your abdomen first, then your head, then your legs. It was like being compressed into a small box then slammed against a cement wall.
What happened? Why aren’t I on the track? Your vision went dizzy as you tried to remember what happened. I must have locked up, but why does my side hurt so bad?
“Oh no! Big crash on Turn 7, I think that was Y/n L/n’s Aston Martin! That looked bad, might be a red flag if L/n doesn’t show responsiveness” Martin Brundle spoke worriedly, crashes during stormy races were never good.
Just focus on getting out of the car, you told yourself. You wrapped your arms around the halo to try and lift yourself up but the dizziness in your head combined with the immediate pain in your right side made you sit back down. I probably hurt my ribs, you thought. It’s fine, I’ll just wait for the medics.
Brundle was right, the yellow flag was waved first and the cars slowed down, but it soon became clear that the race wasn’t going to continue for a bit. After a few minutes of waiting for you, a red flag was waved and the medical team was sent out.
Black spots danced in your vision as you tried to look around for the marshals. You expected your vision to clear up after a second, but it never did. Your world just became fuzzier and darker.
You started hearing sirens of an ambulance approaching, but your arms felt too heavy to raise in a sign of acknowledgement.
“The safety car and marshals arrive at the scene, still no movement from L/n” Martin’s voice becomes somber but he stays hopeful, of course you were fine, you never get hurt, you’d get out in a moment and everything would be fine.
You couldn’t keep yourself awake for much longer. It’s okay, at least I’m okay, right? Right? You asked yourself that question, expecting to wake up in a couple minutes. You weren’t scared of going unconscious, you’d be okay. But your eyes closed for the last time before you could find an answer and it was over before you even realized it’d begun.
The drivers were still in their cars, wondering what had happened. They knew you had crashed, but they knew you were strong, you’ll walk out of your car and dramatically insist Daniel give you a piggy back ride when you saw him. “You didn’t even hurt your legs!” He’d complain and you’d just shrug and tell him to let you climb on.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the race might not continue for a bit, at least until Y/n L/n is safe and taken off the track” Martin tries to keep the viewers updated as curtains are placed around your car to keep the cameras away from you.
Everyone is getting antsy at this point, your engineer got no radio from you and there is no word from the medics yet. The drivers are calling in every other minute, anxious to hear from you. “Is she okay?” Fernando calls in. “Do we know if Y/n’s alright?” Carlos asks, having seen the crash up close. Daniel even walks into your garage, wanting to see for himself if there was any news on your crash.
As a Formula 1 Medic, Rowan should be prepared to handle any type of crash a driver was in, ranging from a bruise on their stomach to a broken leg, she was trained to handle it. But Rowan had never seen a dying person before, so her hesitation to help her coworker with lifting L/n out of her car was understandable.
Two other medics immediately crowd the girl. Rowan searching for a pulse, one taking off the teen’s helmet, and the third wrestling with the drivers suit, trying to assess the damage that could by covered by the clothing.
“Rowan, have you found a pulse?” One of the other medics who’s rummaging ambulance for supplies asks. Rowan doesn’t want to answer. She doesn’t want to face this. She wants to check her neck, her heart, and her wrist again even though she already did three times. Rowan doesn’t want to be one to tell everyone that Y/n L/n is dead, but Rowan knows better than that, so she removes her hands from the drivers body, hangs her head low, and closes her eyes as if that would stop her tears from falling.
“No pulse. I’ve checked everywhere three times. She’s gone.” The medic’s voice cracks as she says the last sentence, and a silence overcomes the team of safety marshals.
Nobody on the team had ever encountered a death before, so the medical staff was stuck in a mournful silence, letting the rain wash away the tears that threatened to drop from their cheeks.
The head of the team snaps out of it first. “Someone has to radio the Aston Martin garage and tell them” Everyone seems to step away, wanting to avoid being the one to announce the death. There was nothing to worry about though, as Rowan spoke up. “I’ll do it. I’ll make call” No one disagrees, and Rowan’s glad because she felt partly responsible, she should’ve gotten to Y/n quicker, helped her out of the car, told everyone to move quicker.
Rowan’s voice comes over the radio, shaky and somber. “Y/n L/n is dead. She has no pulse.” She pauses as her throat closes up. “We’ll take her to the medical center-“ That’s all the woman can manage before she bursts into tears and started shaking with sobs. Another medics pulls her closer to them, as they give a moment of silence for the driver.
The young medic is only a few years older than the girl who just died, questions herself, “What if I got there faster?” It lingers in her mind.
Gasps. Tears. Hands cover faces and people are pulled into hugs. Dead? Daniel thinks, no, she isn’t dead, Y/n- she can’t- she’s not dead. Before he realizes, he’s saying the words out loud and pressing the radio button before Otmar can stop him. “I- what do you mean she’s dead? She can’t be dead- she can’t be” The Australian has tears running down his face and he’s pulled away by one of the Aston Martin engineers.
Nobody knows what has happened except those in the Aston Martin garage, and nobody will know until 7:00am the next morning, when Y/n L/n’s death is announced by Aston Martin.
It seems like the entire world came together to offer their support. Millions of messages are sent to Y/n’s family and her friends and bouquets of flowers are sent to Y/n’s P.O. Box.
The funeral is held on Friday, family, friends, drivers, and co-workers show up to Y/n’s home town to mourn their beloved driver.
A moment of silence is held at the race three weeks later, nearly every driver cries and everyone that has a helmet has a sticker with your initials on it. Fernando wins for you and points at the sky as he sobs for his teammate that was like his daughter.
The paddock no longer feels the same. There was no longer a green suit to watch as she bounced around, talking to anyone and everyone, keeping a smile on her face through it all. There is something so clearly missing in the Aston Martin videos, no matter how much time passes. Fans rewatch her live streams and interviews because it’s all the comfort they have. You used to call the grid dinner outings “family dinner” but families smile and laugh together, and it takes a while before the grid can do that again.
Y/n L/n goes down in the Formula 1 Hall of Fame as the best female driver that has ever lived, but the whole world wishes she was there to see her induction herself.
The day the music died
So bye-bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee
But the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinking whisky and rye
Singing, “This’ll be the day I die”
This will be the day that I die
if you’re confused on how y/n dies, I wrote it as her internal organs got crushes as she crashed straight into the barrier, i know it doesn’t really make sense and it took me me awhile to make this edit but I kinda forgot about it
also, I want to write more f1 fics after this, so if you have any suggestions on what team the reader should be on and what driver the reader should be with lmk 🫶
#formula 1#reader insert#f1 2023#f1 x you#f1 grid x reader#f1 drivers#driver reader#female driver reader#female f1 driver
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Could you do oneshot for Checo with wife pregnant!reader? She accompanied him to the race and he had a crash during Monaco GP 2023 and she's afraid that he will never get to see their child and everyone in the garage tried to calm her down. But he's fine. And she just grateful that he's still alive. I don't know if it make sense. Add something you'd like though. Tag me later!! Thanks!!
Monaco: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly - Sergio Perez x PregnantWife! Reader
Plot: Sergio Perez gets into a nasty crash in Monaco, where his wife attends to support despite being uncomfortably pregnant. However, with the rainy weather conditions Monaco GP is looking more dangerous than ever!
A/N: this is a little shorter as I struggle to right for Sergio more than others!
Credit to adisillusionedauthor for the GIF
This year, you hadn’t really been to many races as you’d got pregnant during the winter break. You’d spent Christmas avoiding people asking why you weren’t drinking before letting everyone know after the first doctors appointment you had.
By the time the Monaco Grand Prix rolled around you were coming up to around 7months of your pregnancy and boy could you tell.
However, because of what Monaco was Sergio had asked you to come considering that’s where you both resided now that he was in Red Bull.
You agreed to come as long as the days weren’t too strenuous on you, and that you always had a seat available as it was hard carrying another human inside of you.
When you arrived at the garage you’d never had so many compliments from well pretty much everyone. Everyone in Alpine had congratulated you, as it was Sergios old team and there were people there that still held a lot of love for the both of you.
When you came to Red Bull Max and Kelly couldn’t help but praise your looks and how you were glowing. And it went on like that for most of the day, people complimented how you looked and it made you feel better about any insecurities you held.
The only thing making you anxious now was the race itself.
You of course loved to support Sergio in what he did but you couldn’t deny that your husband driving round tricky tracks at over 200mph scared the living daylights out of you.
And Monaco, we’ll it was one of the worst. It’s the tightest street circuit ever, and you have to be very precise when it comes to overtaking and gaining places.
Through the whole weekend it had stayed relatively nice, when it came to the weather and the vibes. Everyone was cheerful and excited about the race at one of the most iconic tracks in motorsport. After some great times tested in all the free practices and getting into Q3 in Qually, Sergio was in P8 having locked up on his flying lap.
You were currently in the garage sat watching the race with the mechanics next to you.
“It’s going to be hard for them to get ahead of both the Ferraris and the McLaren” you say to the mechanic next to you. Seeing Charles in Pole, Lando in P2 and and Carlos in P3, Max in P4 and Sergio behind 2 Mercedes, and an Aston Martin.
You watch the lights turn off once all five had lit up, and listen to Cofty commentating. You watch as Charles manages to keep the lead, Lando falling in nicely behind him while Carlos managed to defend from Max quiet nicely.
Sergio had an amazing start, meaning that he moved up past George in the Mercedes, sitting comfortably in P7. Over the radio all the drivers were let known it was going to start raining within the next 3 laps, most of the drivers pitted.
Max pit for Red Bull first while Sergio stayed out moving up to P2 with Lewis now in the lead. Ferrari having made a double Pit stop worried about their drivers with the oncoming rain.
The rain started to come down heavily, you watched on from your husbands car camera seeing how low the visibility was.
You saw his mechanics preparing to have him come in and change to intermediates. You watch on seeing him struggling for grip until he slides forward having something jolt him from behind.
His car, flips as the Aston that bumped his rear also lost grip forcing itself around his car. They are both sent into the barriers both cars getting a massive shunt.
There’s debris everywhere and his car is no-longer race worthy.
Your mind goes haywire and your hand reaches up to your mouth to cover it as it opens in shock. Tears built in your eyes as you watch no movement from both cars.
“Oh my god!” You breathe, one hand still covering your mouth the other resting on your stomach.
What if this was it? You questioned to yourself.
Would your husband never be able to meet his child? You wondered watching as the medic car is released and sent to go help Sergio and Lance.
Some of the social media girls in the garage come up to you, holding a hand out to you to grip in shock. One of them is whispering that he’ll be okay but you are only listening to Crofty and his soft commentating about the incident.
Mechanics soon come up to you realising what has happened trying to block your view and make you take a seat as they can see you are getting breathless.
Red Bull was like one big family, they’d know you since before Sergio had joined as you were good childhood friends with Kelly, so they all felt a high level of protectiveness over you.
You were the sweetest person in the Red Bull family, always bringing them health boxes, full of delicious yet healthy snacks, and then on Sundays coming by with post race goodies that they could class as part of their cheat day, and you were always willing to listen to each and every one of them.
“No no no” you cry more tears spilling as neither driver continues to communicate or make movements.
Some more of the mechanics rushed over to you, pulling you away from the cameras and the screen. Kelly follows holding your hand in a comforting manor. They sit you down in Sergio’s drivers room. The TV in there is on and playing the crash and Kelly goes to turn it off but you stop her before you can.
“No I have to know!” You say watching on as you see the red flag given, all the drivers coming into the pits.
Lance manages to pull himself out and is able to communicate back to the Aston Martin team who all cheer as he is presumed okay, where he pulled himself out and is walking.
He walks straight over to Sergio, there’s some kind of communication which makes you sigh in relief that your husband is able to talk. Nods of heads show that they’ve agreed on something and Lance helps as Sergio pulls himself up on out the car.
You sigh in relief seeing that he was able to get himself out the bashed up car wreck. He wobbled around before collapsing to the ground which only had your heart rate spiking even more.
Lance called the medics over, pointing for Sergio to be helped into the van first. A stretcher was brought out from the back. More tears falls from your eyes, however your husband knew what you’d be looking like right now.
And frankly he’d never liked seeing you cry.
So he pulled himself up, and walked towards the medical van despite what the Marshalls were telling him.
He explained to them he wanted to show his wife and team he was doing okay. Lance clambers in the back after him and they are driven round the last bit of the track to where he would be taken to medical tent for evaluation.
A knock on your door sounds and in walks Christian Horner himself. You smile lightly at him but the tears only come out a little more as he looks between you and the TV.
“He’s going to be okay Y/N” he promises and you nod.
The wait for him to come back and be cleared by the medics was painful, you waited for so long it felt like hours but in reality it was only 30 minutes. There was no damage in the crash, only a mild concussion that would be okay within a few days of rest.
“Hello mi Carina” he smiled sheepishly at you.
“You had me so worried!” You cry as you pull him into a hug, he hugs you kissing all over your face before bending down to the height of your round belly.
“Im so sorry, to the both of you! I can’t imagine the stress I just put you both through!” He offers kissing your clothed stomach and rubbing it lovingly.
“I was so so scared that you’d never get to…” you stutter and choke on your words finding it hard to admit what was so worrying to you, what you’d feared for a long time now.
“Id never leave you both” he smiles standing back up to his full height and pulling you into a chaste kiss that you melt into.
“I love you so much” you sigh sinking into his hold strong hold .
“I love you too, I’ll never put you through what I did today again!” He promises holding into you tightly.
He wouldn’t admit it, but today really was a change of perspective of racing for him.
He’d never been that apprehensive getting into a car and driving it as quickly as he did, but he knew he would have a new found patience and carefulness driving the car after todays events as he too had been fearful he wouldn’t make it back to his two best girls.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @ironmaiden1313
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#sergio perez x you#sergio perez imagine#sergio perez x reader#sergio checo pérez#sergio perez#sp11 x reader#sp11
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Are You Jealous?
Chessy x Reader
prompt: jealous chessy :)
a/n: i rewatched parent trap recently and the craziest plotline in that movie was martin and chessy being lovers. both of them were clearly gay.
a/n: sorry this took so long lol unedited and probably pretty bad
“I’d love to see you tonight.” Y/n smiled down the phone. It’d been about a week since she and Chessy had seen each other and with the house to herself, Chessy was going to take advantage.
“Well Nick and the girls are going camping for the weekend, if you’re up for a drive out to the vineyard?” Chessy asked hopefully.
“I think I can swing that. What time should I be there?”
“Everyone should be gone by 5. So anytime after should be good.” Chessy grinned.
“I’ll be there by 5:30. SHould I bring anything?”
“Just yourself. I’ll make us some dinner and we can crack open something from the cellar to go with.”
“Sounds divine. I’ll call before I head out. See you soon.” Y/n smiled down the phone and waited for Chessy’s reply.
“Can’t wait.”
-
“Dinner was great Chess. Thank you so much.” Y/n smiled around her glass as she sat at the kitchen island watching Chessy move around the kitchen. They’d been dating for about four months and were as smitten as a couple could be. After Meredith, Nick started renting out the vineyard as a wedding venue as a bit of passive income. Y/n’s company had been one of the first to host a ceremony on the grounds. she’d been lost and had somehow driven up the Parker’s driveway and was met with a very beautiful woman waving her hands to stop her. from there their romance only flourished.
“anything for you honey. after i finish these dishes we can go sit under the stars for a bit?”
“i’d love to. why don’t i dry do we can start relaxing sooner? i need as much relaxation as i can get with this current bride.”
“well get your cute butt over here and get to work. the stars won’t wait forever.” chessy grinned, reaching to pull the woman close by the waist. The couple washed in tandem, giggling and stealing kisses as they went. really just enjoying each other's company. Just as they put the last dish away, voices floated through the open floorplan startling the couple apart.
“Chessy, who’s car is that?” Hallie called being the first to enter the house. It wasn’t long before more footsteps were heard and before they knew it they were no longer alone. Now standing face to face with a very intimately domestic scene.
“Uh. Hi guys. What are you doing back so early?” Chessy asked, stepping toward the small family.
“Rain at the campsite so we decided to try again next weekend.” nick shrugged eyeing the guest placing the last of the dried dishes in the cabinet.
“Bummer. I’m sure next weekend will be better. We’ll just be going then.” Chessy answered quickly grabbing Y/n’s elbow in an effort to leave the kitchen. Before she could even move around the island all four members grinned mischievously at the nanny and moved in.
“Wait Chessy, aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Annie asked looking past Chessy and toward Y/n. Chessy fixed them with a withering glare but sighed pulling Y/n forward as she prepared for the embarrassment.
“Everyone this is Y/n, my friend,” she smiled toward the twins in censorship.
“Y/n, this is Nick Parker. He owns the vineyard. Elizabeth James, and their daughters Annie and Hallie.”
Y/n smiled, politely extending her hand to shake each member of the family’s hand before stopping briefly at Elizabeth’s. “I know this is a long-shot but you wouldn’t happen to be the Elizabeth James? Like the wedding dress designer Elizabeth James, would you?”
“Guilty,” Elizabeth smiled.
“Oh I love your work. I’m a wedding planner and all the best dresses I’ve seen in the last 12 years have come from you.” Y/n gushed causing Elizabeth’s cheeks to glow in a blush.
“How sweet, I’m so glad my dresses seem to rank so well.”
“Oh most definitely, I hope you’re still designing by the time I finally have a wedding of my own. I’ve always imagined I’d be in an Elizabeth James original for my special day.”
“I would love that, have you already got ideas? I could roughly sketch you something since we’re all here for the evening.” ELizabeth offered. Y/n took a step around Chessy to follow ELizabeth before turning back to her girlfriend.
“Do you mind Chess?” Y/n asked quietly, knowing that if Chessy said she did, she’d politely decline and hope she got the chance another day.
“No, go ahead, knock yourself out. Just come find me when you’re done.” Chessy smiled, pushing the woman over toward Elizabeth with a smile.
“Great, I can even show you some recent stuff I’ve been thinking about.” Elizabeth grinned, pulling Y/n through the hall toward her work room. As soon as the women disappeared Chessy could feel three pairs of eyes on her.
“Your friend, hm?” Hallie grinned rounding the counter to one side of the nanny.
“How come we’ve never met this friend before?” Annie asked rounding to the other side, effectively caging Chessy between them.
“That’s none of your business. And rain at the campsite? When’d you all become such babies?” Chessy chided, poking the girls in their ribs. They giggled helplessly as the older woman tickled them. “Wanna watch a movie?”
-
The movie had been on for half an hour and the other women had yet to return. Chessy’s attention had been divided the moment they pressed play. During the quieter parts of the movie, she could hear giggles floating through the halls. Chessy’s eyes wandered from the screen in hopes of catching a glimpse of her girlfriend returning, but she wasn’t rewarded. Both Annie and Hallie had anchored themselves on either side of Chessy, legs stretched to each end of the couch. They’d both been commenting on the film and asking questions and Chessy tried to keep up but after noticing her gaze shift to the hallway for what felt like the 100th time they took to giggling and quietly talking to each other.
As the credits rolled across the screen, Chessy was finally granted some reprieve from her torture. Elizabeth and Y/n came around the corner arms linked, quietly giggling over a sketchbook.
“Oh Y/n, you’re just delightful. I can’t believe you’ve done four weddings here and I’m only just meeting you.” Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief.
“My brides are always extremely high maintenance. They make it a bit hard to socialize at all!”
“Well, I’ll have to have you come by my local studio sometime. We just have to get together again.”
“Oh Elizabeth, that’d be great. I’ll have Chessy give you my info and we can connect sometime soon.” Y/n smiled as she placed her hands on Chessy’s head affectionately over the back of the couch.
“I’ll be sure to share that.” Chessy mumbled gazing up at the two of you. Both of their eyes still on the sketchbook.
“Perfect! Girls, it's getting rather late. Say goodnight.” Elizabeth smiled down at the twins while rubbing her hand over Y/n’s shoulder. The girls obediently wished their goodnights before leaving the room. As they left Y/n caught sight of the time herself.
“It is a bit late, I should head home. I’ve got a few early meetings. It was lovely meeting you all. Chess, will you walk me out?” Y/n asked, finally meeting the older woman’s gaze. The older woman followed behind Y/n closely and as soon as they were out of sight of the family her hands were resting on her waist.
They came to a stop outside of Y/n’s car and the younger woman turned to face Chessy, “Well that was fun.” Y/n smiled as Chessy backed her into the car.
“Well I’m glad someone had fun.” Chessy mumbled wrapping her arms around Y/n’s waist with a pout.
“And what’s that supposed to mean? Did you not have fun tonight?” Y/n frowned as Chessy sighed and dodged her eyes.
“I barely saw you tonight.” Chessy huffed.
Y/n looked over the nanny’s face with a smile. Seeing the jealousy simmering in her mind. With a grin Y/n splayed her hands across Chessy’s chest and pulled on the collar of her shirt. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”
“What? Pshh, No.” Chessy rolled her eyes.
“Oh I don’t think that’s true at all.”
“Well, I think you spent the whole evening with the Elizabeth James.”
“Chess…” Y/n dragged out, pulling the older woman closer to her.The older woman grumbled but ultimately sighed as the younger woman pinched her cheek. “You know I would’ve stayed if you asked.”
“You seemed so excited. Listen I’m just grumpy the evening didn’t go as planned. I don’t particularly like sharing you.”
“Well next time, we’ll aim for no interruptions hm?” Y/n smiled sweetly.
“I like the sound of that.”
“Now give me a kiss so we can say goodnight.”
taglist: @theonefairygodmother , @sleep-deprived-athlete
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Valentine’s Day With Donnie
(rise Donnie x gn reader)
Saint Valentine’s Day: a fickle holiday that celebrates even more fickle emotions, a day that forces the formation of many a precarious bond that statistically would not last
At least, that’s how Donnie saw it for the entirety of his life
Until you came along
Now, don’t get him wrong, he still thinks it’s stupid, but maybe something could be stupid and enjoyable
He means, he enjoys his brothers’ company, right? (/j… maybe /hj)
Either way, for you, he doesn’t mind giving Valentine’s Day a genuine go
So, when you come over on the holiday, Donnie’s ready
“As you know, I think Valentine’s Day is an example of rampant consumerism devouring the meaning behind holidays and people’s wallets, but there is something special about a day in which one can express their admiration for each other.”
“Wait… you got me something?”
“Correction: I made you something.”
The man proceeds to hand you a new phone, the insignia on it implying it was made, or at least modified, by his hand
You’d been complaining mentioning that you needed one that actually works
You smile and thank him eagerly
“It’s fine if you don’t have anything, I wasn’t really expecting-”
“Au contraire, Don, I made you something too!”
He looks baffled for about 20 seconds as you hand him a small gift bag containing red velvet macarons, lavender tea bags, a small, smooth rose quartz, a miniature turtle plushie
“Well, me and Mikey made the macarons together. Gotta give credit where credit is due.”
He barely registers your comment, too absolutely enamored by your consideration of him
Donnie doesn’t know where his mind is at, but it definitely isn’t in this solar system, perhaps not even the surrounding stellar systems
Bottom line, bro’s ecstatic
The huge grin on his face and brightness in his eyes effectively gets his point across
Not only did he give a heartfelt gift, he received one?
Okay, maybe this Valentine’s Day had something to it
Watching rom-coms solely to trash on them is a mandatory tradition
Every other Valentine’s Day he’s spent by his lonesome has mostly consisted of hours of mercilessly ragging on romantic comedies
Yep, definitely just to criticize them
No sadness and/or yearning involved
But now, with your company?
He’s still criticizing the ever-loving heck out of those movies
If you genuinely enjoy rom-coms, be prepared for this little pessimist to rain on your parade, grumbling questions of the logic and flow of the film
However, if you, too, find them stupid, you’ve found yourself the perfect, cynical viewing buddy
“You can tell just from the cinematography of that one guy catching her that he’s the secondary love interest.”
“I swear on Galileo’s heliocentric model itself- how many love interests can one main character have?”
“I think that’s the challenge that was going on in the writer’s room - to see how many variations of a love triangle they could make.”
“The challenge in the writer’s room was that they had too many people slamming on keyboards, yet none of them wrote Shakespeare.”
“Was that an infinite monkey theorem allusion?”
“And a simultaneous dig on the foul writing - zing!”
Following the festivities of movie-binging and gift-giving, he turns to you with a rather uncharacteristic diffidence in his demeanor
Glance askance, slight perspiration on his forehead, fidgeting hands, stammering words
As you start to ask what’s wrong, Donnie quickly, almost unintelligibly so, asks if you want to dance
If you feel so inclined, you nod, take his hand, and offer a dance
If Sinatra is playing (Nancy or Frank or both), you know some slow dancing is going down
Bill Withers or Kitty Kallen, maybe even Dean Martin, something classic, whispering in the background, a hand or two on your hips, yours on his shoulders, chins tucked cozily on the crook of each other’s neck or crown of the head, just the two of you gently swaying together to the rhythm sounds perfect
Normally when he dances, it’s fast-paced boogie or groove (he didn’t get the name Bootyshaker9000 for nothing), but for today, for you, he’ll keep the dancing slow, smooth, sweet
Keeping you close and spending time with you has certainly made this his favorite Valentine’s Day thus far
The macarons you gave him also significantly improved his verdict
(Happy Valentine’s Day gang ‼️ HERE are some accompanying sketches with this!)
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#save rottmnt#save rise of the tmnt#unpause rottmnt#rise season 3#save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#unpause rise of the tmnt#rise donnie x reader#rise donatello x reader#rise donnie#rise donatello#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt donnie x reader#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt donatello#valentines day#100
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chasing fate | lance stroll
pairing: lance stroll x hamilton!reader
after months of lingering looks and shy smiles, all the two of you need is a little push in the right direction, but when that direction ends up being in circles, you start to wonder if there's even an end in sight
word count: 5k
tags/warnings: soft and sweet, literally so pure and innocent
To put it simply, Lance Stroll was an introvert.
He loved his career, he loved the people on his team, but when the weekend ended he wanted nothing more than to go back to Montreal and hide away in the comfort of his house until he had to fly to the next country.
The worst was when there was no break in between races. When he had to fly from one race location to another, Lance struggled to hold in his complaints.
Oftentimes during the race weekend, he sought out places where he could find temporary comfort. Away from the crowds, away from the team sporting the matching Aston Martin colours. He just needed to breathe and he couldn’t do that with someone at his side. He couldn’t do that if he was called away for media or autographs. He couldn’t do that if he had to sit through yet another pointless meeting.
He lucked out in Monza, finding a spot early Thursday morning. Somewhere behind the motorhomes, a route that emergency vehicles would take so it wasn’t accessible to the public.
There was a bench, even somewhere for him to put his feet up. Absolutely perfect, he thought.
He sat there in between media sessions on Thursday, taking deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth.
He didn’t have anxiety, he just got overwhelmed easily.
All he wanted to do was race, he wished he could do that without the fifty thousand other agreements he never thought would become more and more unbearable as the races continued, as the years went on. Wasn’t it supposed to get easier the longer he did this? Why was he always counting down the minutes until he could just go home, or at least go back to the hotel?
Lance waited a minute or two more before standing up from the bench. He avoided the puddle that was near his feet and looked up at the sky. The clouds were a light grey, but no rain was supposed to be expected for the rest of the weekend, hopefully.
He was still looking up as he walked around the motorhome, thinking about how bad a storm would have to be for a race to be cancelled.
And you were looking down at your phone as you walked down that same dirt path, not caring about how the mud was going to stain the sides of your shoes because if you were being honest, you hated that you had to look your best during these weekends.
You hated that Lewis had turned the paddock into his own personal fashion show because the days you showed up with him, people expected you to also make some sort of statement or rep some expensive brand with your outfit. After all, you were the younger sister of 7 time world champion Lewis Hamilton, and your association came with upholding his image.
But god you were tired of it sometimes. You loved watching the races, but you could do without being asked what you thought about your brother's career, how you felt his battle was going, if he was going to retire soon.
You didn’t care, truly.
Lewis knew what he was doing, all you wanted to do was watch and support and not be sucked into whatever drama was circling his life that week.
That's how you found yourself looking for a seclusive spot to just get away from it all.
When you bumped into Lance, you were both taken off guard. You hand went to his chest, his hand went to your arm to keep you both steady.
“Sorry, I wasn’t-” You started to say, the same time Lance said “I didn’t see-”
You closed your mouth, dropping your hand to your side as he took a step back. The synchronised apologies didn’t need to be finished, it was clear you both weren’t looking where you were going.
“Is this your hideout?” You asked, a faint smile on your face when you saw the bench and the black boxes he had turned upside down to rest his feet on.
Lance looked behind him, inhaling a quiet breath before he smiled too, “Yeah, but I don’t mind sharing it if you’re in need of one.”
“How generous,” you teased.
Lance moved to step around you and had you kept walking towards the bench, you would have missed the way his smile dropped when he spotted the crowd of people on the other side of the motorhome.
But you caught it.
You didn’t say anything, but you felt bad for him, knowing that he had it so much worse being an actual driver. There was the stress of delivering and getting points every weekend on top of what he had to face when he stepped out of the car.
At least you got to go home after this and not think about Formula 1 until you decided to attend another race. This was Lance’s life.
And you liked Lance. You didn’t speak as often as you would have liked, but he was always very polite to you when you were in the paddock. Whereas most of the drivers kept to themselves and their teams if they were heading somewhere, Lance would send you a smile if he recognised you.
You knew he was shy, which is why you were always a little surprised if he did go out of his way to talk to you. Again, it wasn’t often, just a simple ‘How are you?’ or ‘It’s nice to see you’.
You liked his faint lisp as he spoke, you liked his Canadian accent, it made chatting with him more amusing for you. You were sick of the French and the British, you liked that when Lance spoke, there was always a sense of optimism to his words, even if he didn’t intend for it.
But most of all, you liked that despite being the son of Lawrence Stroll, despite having a paid seat, he fought hard. He worked his ass off every weekend to earn points for the team, he put effort in that not many other paid drivers would. He loved this sport, he loved racing, and you could see that even when you sat at home and watched the race from the comfort of your living room.
His effort in F1 seemed to go unnoticed a lot of the time. He had Seb as a teammate the last few years and now he was with Fernando. Two very prominent names and yes, two incredible drivers that helped him out immensely, but the attention always went to them.
So yeah, you felt bad for him.
You couldn’t relate to the driving aspect, but you understood what it was like being in someone's shadow. Something that you never once blamed Lewis for, just like you knew Lance would never blame Seb or Fernando.
It was just the cards you had been dealt, it was the fate you found yourself accepting.
You didn’t think twice before cupping your hand around your lips, calling out to Lance, “Hey!”
He turned right before reaching the paddock, eyebrows raised, but when your mouth curved into a warm smile, he reciprocated it before you even said anything else.
“Good luck this weekend,” you said and he chuckled, yelling a ‘thank you’ in response.
Four little words, but it showed him that someone was on his side.
And that someone was you, which Lance needed a second to process as he walked through the paddock.
He admired you, really.
He had been following you on social media for a while, he saw the work you put into Lewis’ organisations, how much of a role model you aspired to be. He liked the calming aura you carried into the paddock, it was something that drew Lance to you from day one.
Maybe that’s why he wasn’t afraid to talk to you, maybe that’s why you were one of the few people he didn’t shy away from. He hated crowds, he hated the obligations that came with being a driver, he hated struggling to find the right words to say when a camera was shoved in his face.
But you were different.
He could spot you halfway down the paddock and it made his job a little easier.
And if he just so happened to perform better when you were in attendance, well, no one really had any issues with that. No one even knew you were the reason behind it, behind his insane lap times during practices, behind his incredible qualifying finish that put him third behind Max and Checo.
Almost everyone was clueless, and that included Lance.
The one person who wasn’t clueless, was Lewis.
He bumped into Lance in the paddock, it was nearing sunset on that Saturday before the race and you had already gone back to the hotel at this point, telling Lewis you’ll see him later and congratulating on his P5 grid position.
Now, unlike you, Lewis was intimidating. Sure, he was probably the nicest driver in the paddock and wore his heart on his sleeve, but the man held seven world championship titles and knew a thing or two about racing.
So naturally, when Lewis approached him, Lance stood up straighter, slid his phone into his pocket and was ready to listen to whatever the British driver had to say.
“P3, mate, good job,” Lewis congratulated him, arm going around his shoulders to pat his back as they walked through the paddock.
“Yeah, thanks,” Lance smiled. “It was close there, in that last session. I just lucked out.”
“Nah it’s not luck,” Lewis laughed. “You’re a good driver. It’s only right you’re fighting for the big points.”
Lewis was a fierce competitor, but he showed every driver on the grid the respect they deserved. Lance was appreciative of his words, but it also left him stunned in response.
You were easier to talk to than your brother, that’s for sure.
“You’re doing well this year,” he then pointed out.
Ideally, Lance would have liked to be doing better. It was September and he found himself seventh in the standings. Better than last year, for sure, but Lance expected more of himself, more from the car.
But what was he supposed to say to Lewis, ‘I disagree’? Lance just thanked him again.
“Do you know what I’ve noticed?" Lewis, still with one arm around Lance, laughed quietly to himself. It wasn’t threatening by any means, but Lance felt like he was missing something, he wasn’t in on whatever Lewis found so funny.
“What’ve you noticed?” He asked.
Lewis nodded and he stopped walking. Lance did too and watched as Lewis tried to hide the faint smirk on his lips, tried, but failing
“You do better when my sister’s around.”
Again, Lance was unsure how to respond. This wasn’t something he could agree with or find an answer for, it honestly wasn’t even something he’d thought about.
But Lewis’ face said it all.
He had noticed the way the Canadian driver worked his way up the grid faster if you were watching the race. He kept track of Lance’s starting positions when you were in attendance compared to when you weren’t. He saw the way Lance, all around, was in a better mood and had a better weekend, if you were there.
“I don’t-” Lance shook his head, thinking maybe he had done something wrong. He didn’t want to cross any lines, he respected Lewis, respected you, your whole family. Why was he suddenly nervous that Lewis had caught onto something that had gone right over his own head?
Lewis continued on, not giving Lance a chance to defend himself or argue that he was wrong, “So you like her?”
Again, Lance struggled to get a proper sentence out, “No, I mean- I do, but not like-” he ran a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t know what the right thing to say here is, man.”
Lewis found humour at how on edge Lance became all of a sudden. His intention was not to get in his head or make him stutter, but it was entertaining.
“She’s-” Lance swallowed, “Nice. She’s nice.”
“Nice?” Lewis repeated, still stifling his laughter. “Yeah, tell her that mate, I’m sure that’ll win her over.”
“What, I’m not-” Lance shook his head again, that was all he could seem to do. He felt the need to defend himself, for something he had no control over, “I’m not trying to win her over.”
“Okay,” the older driver nodded, figuring now was probably the time to quit playing mind games. He patted Lance’s arm, “Just saying, if you did want to win her over, you probably wouldn’t have to try that hard. I think she likes you too.”
Lewis let those words sit with Lance as he turned and walked towards the gates of the paddock, leaving the Aston Martin driver standing in the middle of the walkway, repeating the sentence in his head over and over again.
‘I think she likes you too.’
When Lewis returned to the hotel, you were in the lobby scrolling through your phone. Lewis plopped down next to you, arm resting over the back of the couch and when you eventually looked up, you noticed the devious little expression on his face.
“What?” You asked, eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Lewis sighed, “I guess if you wanted, you could call me-” he raised his hands in front of him, mimicking the motion of shooting an arrow. “-cupid.” And then he looked at you, with that same mischievous grin.
Now you were really confused.
“Who the fuck are you playing cupid for?”
Lewis hesitated, “Lance.”
That was certainly not the name you expected to hear.
“Lance?” You repeated. “Lance and who?”
“Lance and that girl who always lingers in the paddock when he’s nearby and gives him a more genuine smile than she gives her own brother.”
It took a second for it to hit you and then you hit him, smacking your older brother in the chest as he just took the abuse and laughed.
“Am I wrong?” Lewis asked, still unable to keep from grinning from ear to ear. Your reaction to your unrecognised feelings was so much better than Lance's. “Come on, Y/N, I’ve seen it for months now.”
“You haven’t seen anything,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest in a very childlike form. Avoiding eye contact with Lewis made this conversation easier, but that didn’t mean he was about to let up.
“So you’re telling me you don’t like him?” He questioned. “That you don’t have feelings for that pale Canadian?”
The thing was, you probably did. You just never let yourself think about it. You didn’t spend enough time around him or go to enough races to let yourself sit in those feelings or act on it. You exchanged a smile and kind words when you were around each other, but it never went any further than that and you never let yourself hope that it would.
There was no point, you’d both be gone after the race weekends, back to your lives, your respected homes.
“I think you’re delusional,” you turned this around on Lewis instead of facing what was right in front of you.
Quite literally, right in front of you.
You looked across the lobby right as Lance was walking inside, looking down at his phone as he lugged a backpack over his shoulder. You felt Lewis nudged your side and in response you hit his hand out of the way, inching closer to the corner of the couch.
And then Lance looked up, his eyes finding yours almost instantly.
It was hard to put into words how you felt because up until now, you refused to admit you felt anything. You took the smiles and glances in the paddock as a sign of friendship, nothing more.
All of a sudden, it was naive to think those moments were just friendly.
You didn’t want to admit anything, you didn’t want to have feelings for a driver who lived on the other side of the world. You didn’t want to look at him and imagine a future where you’d be standing in his garage, attending events at his side, holding his hand when the pressure of the crowds and cameras became unbearable because as long as you could squeeze his fingers and let him know you were with him, it would be easier to breathe, for both of you to breathe.
Oh, you were fucked.
Because that was all you wanted.
You just didn't realise it until now.
Lance sent you a shy smile, purposely avoiding Lewis’ knowing stare and devious smirk as he walked towards the elevators. You felt yet another nudge in your side and it was at this moment, you couldn’t tell if you hated or loved having Lewis as your brother.
The teasing you could do without.
But if it weren’t for him, would you have ever let yourself accept that you did feel something for Lance? Or did it take Lewis pointing it out for you to realise it was impossible to ignore?
“So are you going to do anything?” Lewis asked and you really didn’t have an answer.
All you could do was shrug and tell him that you’ll sleep on it. You told yourself that if you saw him in the paddock tomorrow and still felt that pull towards him, still thought about what it would be like to act on those feelings, then maybe, just maybe, you might do something.
But Monza ended up being a wild race to follow. You barely left the Mercedes motorhome in the morning, the race was littered with yellow flags and your focus was on Lewis and his fight rather than trying to find time to see the Aston Martin driver.
In fact, your attention didn’t even go towards him until the end of the race neared and you noticed he was sitting in fourth place. In the back of your mind, you rooted that he would podium, but when Lewis finished second, you celebrated with him and his team. You didn’t give yourself a chance to think about Lance and his fourth place finish.
You didn’t see Lance in person at all on Sunday and you took that as a sign.
A sign that whatever Lewis put in your head last night was not something you needed to act on.
You stayed in London during the next three races. While Lewis did invite you to come with, he always did, travelling from Singapore to Japan to Qatar seemed exhausting and you could support your brother from the comfort of your flat in London.
Lance noticed your lack of presence in the paddock though.
He didn’t want Lewis’ words to get to him, but they did. He tried to perform his best during those races, but the most he could do was pull off a P5 finish in Japan. In Singapore he finished 7th and he had to retire in Qatar.
Maybe he did do better when you were there.
Lance knew he should have acted on Lewis’ advice to make a move, win you over, when he had the chance to, when you were both in Monza, but you slipped right through his fingers. He saw you once in the morning, when you were walking into the Mercedes motorhome, but you were balancing a phone between your shoulder and cheek and Lance couldn’t bring himself to interrupt you. Not when he didn’t even have an idea as to what to say.
It was Monday morning in Qatar and Lance was at the airport when he pulled out his phone and mindlessly opened up Instagram. Was he hoping to see a new post from you? Yes, but he would never admit that out loud.
But he saw it. A photo with a group of your friends at some restaurant in London. Your smile was illuminating, you were having fun, you were enjoying yourself.
Lance was envious. Not because he wasn’t enjoying himself, but because he wanted to be there with you, he wanted to know what it was that made your head tilt back in laughter at the same time the photo was taken.
“She’s going to New York.”
Lance looked up from where he sat in the secluded corner of the private lounge. It wasn’t uncommon to run into a driver or two in the airport the morning after a race, and it was more common to see them in the designated first-class lounges too.
Lewis sat down across from him, eyeing the phone in his hands. He must have been behind lance when he was hovering his thumb over your photos, trying to decide if liking it crossed some sort of line. He was cautious. He didn’t want to overstep, especially with Lewis watching the two of you like you were some sort of blockbuster movie and he had front row seats.
“She’s going to New York,” Lewis repeated, doing his best to keep the sly grin off his face. “And then she’ll be in Austin for the race, but she’s going to New York first.”
Lance sighed, carefully treading the waters, “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you didn’t do anything in Monza.”
“Do anything?” He asked, but the clarification was just for appearances. They both knew what Lewis was referring to.
“She’s going to New York,” Lewis repeated for the final time, palms hitting his legs before he stood up. “Do whatever you want with that information.” He patted Lance on the shoulder as he walked towards the opposite end of the room, letting Lance sit there in tense uncertainty.
It would be stupid for Lance to go to New York, wouldn’t it?
It would be stupid for Lance to go home to Montreal only to stare at his phone when you posted a photo of a restaurant in New York and then something on your story of the lobby of a hotel that Lance was fairly certain was the Mandarin Oriental in Manhattan because he had stayed there before and the walls looked horribly familiar.
It would be incredibly stupid of him to call up his friend who just so happened to live in Manhattan and make up some bullshit excuse that he was visiting the city and how it would be fun to catch a Rangers game, that way he had a reason to post New York on his story without it being too obvious that he was in New York the same time you were.
Lance knew that all of this was childish. Book a last minute trip to New York in hopes that it would get your attention? Who did that?
Lance, apparently.
You were in your hotel room on Saturday night when Lewis texted you. There were no words, just a screenshot of an instagram story that clearly showed Lance in attendance at a hockey game. You texted back saying ‘stop trying to play cupid’.
But you had to admit, you were a little happy to hear that Lance was in the same city as you after not seeing him for over a month.
You could have let it be, let fate decide whether or not you two would run into each other, but sometimes fate needed a little push.
So when you went out for drinks with a friend that night, you made sure to publicly post which lounge you were at.
To anyone on the outside, you and Lance were sharing your personal lives on social media, something that you often did anyway, but Lance was an introvert, so this caught the curious eyes of a few of his friends and fans.
No one had an idea that this was the two of you communicating. That this was you saying I’m here, come find me, knowing that Lance would see and respond.
His friend invited him to a bar after the hockey game, but Lance said he had other plans, which he did. He wanted to find you. He ordered a car to the restaurant you had posted on your story and it wasn’t long until he was wandering through the booths, keeping an eye out for you and your friends.
When he felt a tap on his shoulder, Lance got his hopes up. Thinking that finally timing would work out in his favour.
But it was one of your friends. He recognised her from the pictures you shared. She had a glass and her phone balanced in one hand and she eyed up the Aston Martin driver with a bit of hesitation.
“Lance, right?” She asked, having recognised him as well. “I’m Y/N’s friend.”
“Is she-” he glanced up, one more look around the lounge. “Is she here?”
“She left about ten minutes ago,” your friend nodded, sounding about as disappointed as he felt. “She really thought you’d show up.”
“Yeah, fate’s not on our side I guess,” Lance tried to laugh it off, raising his hand up to scratch the hair on the back of his head. He then realised just how underdressed he was for this lounge, repping a Rangers jersey while everyone here was dressed with the intention of leaving a good impression. He didn't even think about changing first, he just wanted to find you.
Lance headed back to his hotel, trying to ignore the pitiful look from your friend. It seemed like a few people in your life wanted the two of you to finally connect outside the paddock.
But it shouldn’t have been a shock to anyone when the paddock was what finally brought you together.
You left New York the next day, heading straight to Texas to meet Lewis. He had work to do aside from Formula 1 obligations, work that involved his charities and that also involved you. So while you went to the Southern state earlier than expected, Lance was stuck in New York, trying to figure out his next move.
And you were also trying to piece together what was going to happen next.
Your friend had texted you, saying Lance did end up showing up after you left and you wanted to scream into the void, asking yourself why didn’t you just hold off a little longer.
You could have taken it as a sign. Another reason why you should just push your feelings aside. You two just couldn’t seem to get it right.
Lance entered the paddock on Friday morning, holding his card against the gate scanner. Sunglasses covered his face from the scolding sun, but there wasn’t much he could do to get away from the cameras that lined the walkway.
He waited until after the morning briefing to look for a hideout, something he did at most races. Just a place to breathe if he needed it and right now he did.
Was he intentionally walking in the direction of the Mercedes motorhome in hopes that he would spot you? Lance would say no, but the all-knowing smirk Lewis gave him when they passed each other said otherwise.
Lance had just walked past Mercedes when the doors to the motorhome opened and you stepped out, shielding your phone screen from the sun with your hand as you tried to read the text Lewis sent you.
‘Come outside, turn right.’
You looked right, expecting to see Lewis, because why else would he tell you to go outside?
But instead you recognized the green Aston Martin t-shirt in the soon to be growing crowd and you knew that, even though you had just missed each other once again, you couldn’t take this as a sign to go back inside and wait for the next chance encounter.
You had to make your own fate.
You walked down the steps and picked up your pace until you reached Lance. He had one of his airpods in, so he didn’t hear you approach from behind but he did feel the faint touch of a hand on his arm, guiding him to stop walking.
Lance took the airpod out and looked at you. Eyebrows slightly pinched together as he tried to figure out if now, here, in the paddock was the right time to do something, to finally let those feelings he had for you win.
“Hi,” you breathed out.
And then you smiled and Lance knew he was done for.
He was tired of waiting too, tired of dancing around the idea of you and him. This is what he wanted and he knew now, this was what you wanted.
“Hi,” he smiled back, absolutely glowing under the Austin sun, but he could say the same thing about you. Lance glanced down the paddock, “I was just going for a walk. Did you want to join me?”
“I’d love to.”
The lack of hesitation on your part gave Lance the confidence he needed to keep going, to not let this be restricted to just race weekends.
“What are you doing later?” He asked, and then laughed at the ridiculousness of his question. “I mean, after practice? Do you- do you have plans? Do you have dinner plans?”
You liked that he was a little awkward and a little unsure. He was cute, he was sweet, he was standing right in front of you after god knows how long you spent denying that he wasn’t anything more than someone you smiled at in passing.
“Are you asking me out?” You asked, keeping the teasing tone to a minimum. You weren’t Lewis, you didn’t want him to overthink the idea of you two being together.
Lance nodded, “I guess I am.”
Your smile grew, which was a response in itself. The two of you probably looked like young idiots as you stood in the paddock, both too giddy to get another word out. But that’s how it was supposed to be. You wanted to be with someone who made it hard for you to put together a sentence, you wanted to be with someone who made you smile so much you felt the discomfort in your cheeks. You wanted to be with someone who wanted you as much as you wanted them.
And Lance was that someone.
---
ynhamilton
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tagged: lance_stroll
ynhamilton something about fate?
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lance_stroll life is better with you in it
lewishamilton you are welcome
danielricciardo this was your doing?
lewishamilton just call me cupid
chloestroll the cutesttt
tbh im not in love with this and there will probably be another lance one shot coming soon to make up for it
#lance stroll x reader#lance stroll x you#lance stroll imagine#lance stroll fic#lance stroll one shot#ln18#f1 one shot#f1 requests#lance stroll
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Spirits in The Rain - Martin - Chapter 1
Series Masterlist
My Everything Masterlist
Word count: 768
Chapter warnings: injury, violence.
Soulmate AU, hurt/comfort, angst, x gender neutral reader
I fired off the last shot I had in my pistol, throwing it to the ground as the man in front of me hit the ground with a dull thud, lifeless. I gasped, staggering backwards before taking off running. I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew that I had to get as far away as I could from this place.
I didn’t make it very far, having been weakened from lack of food and water, and especially sleep. My jailers hadn’t exactly taken care of me. I cursed myself for falling for their trap, their offer to help me. The bunker had food, and it was safe, but I couldn’t bring myself to stay there, not after what I had experienced there. Even if they were dead now. I just couldn’t.
I collapsed against a tree, my chest heaving painfully. My ankle throbbed, and my ribs were bruised. It hurt to take a deep breath. It wasn’t long before I struggled to my feet, feeling the need to keep moving. As long as I was in the vicinity of that place, I couldn’t feel at ease. I limped through the woods as far as I could, and I soon came across an abandoned cabin. It wasn’t nearly dark yet, but as badly as I wanted to keep moving, I decided to stop here for the night. The dark clouds hovered in the sky menacingly.
The cabin was sorely abandoned on the inside as well as the out, everything covered in a layer of dust. As I flopped onto the couch, a cloud of dust erupted from it, sending me into a coughing fit that made my ribs pulsate. I groaned, pulling some packaged foods out of my bag that I had managed to snag from them before making a run for it. I ate only part of it, knowing I'd have to ration my supplies.
As I settled down on the couch-after checking the entire place and blocking off any entryways with furniture-I heard the pattern patter of rain on the roof. Before, it would have been a calming, welcomed sound. Now, it only served to further agitate me. My eyes cracked open, suddenly aware that the place was broken down enough to have leaks in the roof. I watched, and sure enough, plump drops fell to the floor from the ceiling across the room from me. I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head and passing out in exhaustion.
The next day, and the day after, and the day after, I wandered through the woods with no destination in particular. I had no idea where I was. Already having been starved and mistreated in the facility, it didn't take long for my condition to worsen, and soon I was barely staggering through the brush, zombie-like. I was barely aware of my surroundings, barely aware of the gnawing pain in my gut, and barely aware of the progressive cold that plagued me until I was shivering constantly.
I broke down against a tree as a violent coughing fit overtook me, causing me to fall to my knees, hunched over defensively. As I straightened up, I heard voices, and feet crunching through the dry leaves. I stiffened, stumbling to my feet as quietly as I could. I gripped the knife at my hip.
Two men in hazmat suits appeared at the edge of my vision. I ripped myself away from the one that had grabbed my arm, shoving the other away from me and stabbing him in the arm before I took off running again, as fast as I could. I heard heavy footsteps chase after me; they were fast and unwavering, even after my own pace faltered not long into the chase as I weakened quickly. My feet began to drag as my pace slowed dramatically, and my foot caught on a root. I pitched forward, unable to stop my head from slamming into something solid. I blacked out instantly.
The men stood above me, peering at me through their hazmat shields. I shrank back, scrambling away from them until my back hit a tree. My head pounded and my vision was splotchy. I shook uncontrollably.
Their heads jerked up simultaneously when more people came running through the brush towards us. I attempted to struggle to my feet while they were distracted, but one of them immediately turned around and knocked me back with a sharp kick to the ribs. I choked out a cry, falling onto my side with a pathetic wheeze. The ground dug into my frail shoulder blades painfully.
"Let them up." A female voice called out.
#The rain#the rain netflix#the rain series#the rain 2019#the rain fanfiction#the rain martin#the rain martin x reader#martin x reader#the rain simone#simone anderson#rasmus anderson#the rain simone anderson#the rain rasmus#rasmus x reader#rasmus anderson x reader#the rain x reader#the rain x gender neutral reader#x gender netural reader#hurt/comfort#angst#fluff#the rain martin x gender neutral reader#martin x gender neutral reader#martin angst#the rain whump#whump#x reader whump#fanfic#fanfiction#netflix series fanfic
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masterlist !
—something different bloomed writing in my room !
series !
mad woman (gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!reader)
part one; part two; part three; part four ; part five ; part six ; epilogue
one shots !
jack champion
freudian slip (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)
is it too soon? (jack champion x fem!reader)
i’m only me when i’m with you (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)
it’s golden, like daylight (jack champion x swiftie!fem!reader)
enchanted to meet you (jack champion x interviewer!fem!reader)
lost in translation (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)
i’m so chill, but you make me jealous (jack champion x fem!reader)
your love is a secret (jack champion x singer!fem!reader)
you belong with me (jack champion x fem!reader)
i know i miss you (jack champion x fem!reader)
the tower at midnight (jack champion x shy!fem!reader)
frustrating, intoxicating, complicated (jack champion x actress!fem!reader
feel the glamour in pink (jack champion x fem!reader)
locked up in your arms (jack champion x streamer!fem!reader)
the best day with you (jack champion x fem!reader)
break me like a promise (jack champion x actress!fem!reader, louis partridge x fem!reader)
‘tis the damn season (jack champion x fem!reader)
foolish one (jack champion x fem!reader)
sweet nothing (jack champion x fem!reader)
happy birthday (jack champion x fem!reader)
friendship bracelets (jack champion x singer!fem!reader)
under the mistletoe (jack champion x fem!reader)
from friends to this (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)
the one (jack champion x interviewer!fem!reader)
slut (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)
ethan landry
i can see you (camp counselor!ethan landry x camp counselor!fem!reader)
august part two (hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader)
i know places (nerd!ethan landry x cheerleader!fem!reader)
better than revenge (ethan landry x fem!reader)
hits different (ethan landry x fem!reader)
hell is when i fight with you (ethan landry x fem!reader)
bad idea, right? (ethan landry x fem!reader)
my tears ricochet (gf!ethan landry x fem!reader)
you’re my best friend (ethan landry x fem!reader)
forget about the heartbreaks (ethan landry x fem!reader)
snow on the beach (ethan landry x fem!reader)
want to know you better (camp counselor!ethan landry x camp counselor!fem!reader)
glitch (barista!ethan landry x barista!fem!reader)
hoax (gf!ethan landry x fem!reader)
let the games begin (slytherin!ethan landry x hufflepuff!fem!reader)
high infidelity (ethan landry x fem!reader)
how you get the girl (hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader)
speak now (slytherin!ethan landry x slytherin!fem!reader)
delicate (non-gf!ethan landry x fem!reader)
everything has changed (hockey player!ethan landry x figure skater!fem!reader
back to december (ethan landry x fem!reader)
getaway car (gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!reader)
invisible string (slytherin!ethan landry x ravenclaw!fem!reader)
the story of us (spider-man!ethan landry x fem!reader)
been here all along (ethan landry x fem!reader)
i want your midnights (ethan landry x fem!reader)
stars around my scars (ethan landry x fem!reader)
say don’t go (hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader)
you are in love (ethan landry x fem!reader)
passionate as sin (camp counselor! ethan landry x camp counselor!fem!reader)
big cake, happy birthday (ethan landry x fem!reader)
putting roots in my dreamland (florist!ethan landry x princess!fem!reader)
don’t blame me for what you made me do (gf!ethan landry x gf!carpenter!reader)
all you had to do was stay (hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader)
screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain (ethan landry x fem!reader)
the water’s rough but this love is ours (ethan landry x meeks martin!fem!reader)
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NORTHANGER ABBEY — send a muse + your favourite trope and i’ll write a drabble/blurb.
fernando alonso and falling asleep on their partner but it's nando who falls asleep
i love u sm <3 have a great day angel
for the nando podium today 🫶
SLEEPY. ❨ fernando alonso x reader ❩
never in your whole relationship with fernando had there been such an exciting race weekend. the first race back after the summer break and you couldn’t have been happier to accompany fernando to the dutch grand prix. exploring amsterdam, watching every free practice, taking an abundance of photos despite fernando’s protests.
what could you say? you were proud. two weeks spent lounging on a boat in spain, skin sun kissed and days long, you could sense fernando’s itch to get back on the track. you were the most important thing on earth to him, but racing was his element — and he looked so attractive doing it.
“good luck,” you whispered to him just before he got in the car, grasping at the front of his race suit. fernando pressed a doting kiss to your lips, admiring how you looked in the green aston martin jersey.
“see you on the other side,” he whispered back, pecking your nose sweetly before he slipped his helmet on and disappeared onto the track. like always, your blood pressure soared as he rounded each corner on the track; even more so when the rain started to pour on the dutch track.
but he crossed the finish line in P2, his seventh podium that season, and all of the love you had inside for him spilled across the aston martin garage. every engineer and worker in sight hugged you tighter than ever. arm linked in kelly’s, you watched as both boyfriends celebrated their wins. sprayed with champagne, fernando’s eyes found yours down below, and in one look you heard a million words. more clearly, just three.
he must have kissed you fifty times since getting off the podium, not caring what cameras were watching. he was ecstatic, leg bouncing in the car back to the hotel. max had invited everyone out for dinner, as it was his home race, but fernando could barely let you get ready for kissing you.
“nando, we’re going to be late if you don’t let me do my hair,” you giggle against his lips, the weight of his body on top of yours warm and comforting. he groans, slipping his chin into the crook of your neck.
“can we stay here?” he mumbles. “i’m tired. and i can think of better things to do than go out…”
his tone turns suggestive, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt. you slap at his teasing, shoving your boyfriend off of you with a roll of your eyes. in the reflection of the hotel mirror, his eyes never leave you. god, he was sickeningly in love with you.
“you look beautiful, mi amor,” he murmurs, muffled from the kiss he presses to your temple. dapper in his shirt and trousers, you happily snap a picture for your pleasure and drag him down to the hotel restaurant.
the dinner goes on for hours, full of food and drink and laughter. it’s around half past midnight when some drivers begin to fizzle out and go home, max and charles still ordering shots from the bar. you’re half listening to one of carlos’ stories when you feel a strange weight on your shoulder. tucked into your right hand side, fernando’s head has dropped to sleep on you, his hand still rested on your thigh.
you glance down, trying not to wake your tired boyfriend, and smile fondly. he was wrecked, after a day full of media commitments and congratulations after congratulations. the sight of him was adorable, lips turned downward and eyes gently creased at their sides. you were glad no one else had noticed, for fernando’s sake if nothing else, and gently roused him with a rub of his arm.
“baby? come on, let’s go to bed,” you whisper, and you swear your heart melts inside of you when his droopy eyes raise to yours. he was just adorable, furrowed brows and fingers squeezing at your skin. he nods silently, pulling himself up from the chair. you make your excuses for you both, kissing all of the boys goodbye, before you follow the sleepy fernando to the elevator.
you take his hand, guiding him the right way, and he finally rests against you when you’re inside of the lift. he smells vaguely of his cologne, faded from the long night, your face pressed to his chest as he sways you both gently in your climb to the twentieth floor.
“bed time?” he mumbles, drowsy, stepping out and heading towards your room. you nod in agreement, suppressing a giggle at his tired state. he lets you undress him when you’re safe behind locked doors, slowly and softly undoing every button on his shirt, leaving behind a trail of kisses on the skin underneath.
by the time your own dress is hung up and your makeup removed, he’s out like a light. taking a moment, you stand at the edge of the bed and admire him. his back muscles rippling every time he shifts on the mattress, hair already tousled. somewhere in your stating he wakes, at least you think, grunting and reaching out for you to join.
gladly, you appease him. under the covers, fernando bundles you up in his strong hold and doesn’t let go until morning. and even then, he’s not letting you go too far.
#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#fernando alonso blurb#fernando alonso instagram au#fernando alonso#fernando alonso drabble#fernando alonso imagine#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso fluff
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Someone Who Loves You
Media The Artful Dodger
Character Jack Dawkins
Couple Jack X Reader
Rating Sweet Af + Flirty
Warning Dark discussions
I past the trees in the setting sun, trying desperately to salvage everything that had happened today. But I froze up as I heard a footstep, that wasn't mine. I stopped and listened closely. I could hear them coming up behind me, I could feel their presence, so I rested my hand on the handle of my knife.
I turned sharply and saw them, a figure in black darkness behind them as the sun set behind me, A hood covered them utterly.
"You're following me?"
"I am." The voice, muffled by the hood and cloak left me unsure if I knew the voice.
"Why?"
"I must speak with you, as privately as possible."
"Come to the hospital?" I suggested
"No. Walls have ears. I trust only the trees." For a moment that phrase reminded me, but of what that was too far gone to recall.
"What do you want?"
"To speak with you."
"Who are you."
"What does it matter?"
"I won't speak with you until you tell me who you are."
"Walls have-"
"Who are you?"
Silence between us for a moment, they took the hood of their cloak pulling it down to reveal a face beautiful with long hair, and a scar across her cheek. She settled the hood at her shoulders and smiled.
"Someone who loves you,"
I racked my mind but, I didn't remember her, but she knew me "Who are you, give me your name."
Those words from my lips utterly broke her heart, you could see it shatter in her face, her hands began to quiver, and a tear in her eye.
"Y-you don't remember me?"
"Should I?"
Those two little words utterly shattered her and she looked as if she was about to faint, or that her knees would give out.
"I had prayed, you would always remember me." She said, "Time has been kind to you, much more so than it has to me."
"I've met a lot of people in my life. Excuse me, if I don't remember one woman." I said,
"Would think you'd remember, such a turbulent time." She smiled,
"Perhaps you remember the way that horrid old strew used linger its smell down the alley, Perhaps you remember the sleepless nights under that broken roof, Perhaps you remember the old secret alleys and bridges, not a soul else knew, Perhaps you remember that more then you'd remember me."
"I'm sorry, but I need to get back," I told her turning to leave but I took more than two steps before she whistled, a little tune. That dove into the memories I had tried so desperately to forget.
That tune, I'd hear echoed on the streets of London through the thickest of fogs, in the nights and over the bridges I used to roam.
I turned back to see her again but still, I couldn't recall her face.
"... I see you remember that dodger."
My heart skipped hearing that word. That name. She knew me. And she could destroy me. And everything I've made for myself.
"Tell me. Who you are."
"Perhaps you remember, running down Martin Street pocket watch in hand as the cops chased you, you'd always find me at the corner. Drop your spoils in my basket so you were clean they they caught you down Pentavile. Perhaps you remember, carrying me up the top of London bridge to see the fireworks on New Year, Perhaps you remember sharing blankets watching the rain fall," She explained and with every word it became clearer and clearer, that my time on London's streets and everyone I knew widdled away and I knew she could only be one girl in the world. "Perhaps you remember how you kissed me, under the old cotton bridge hiding from the cops," She giggled
I was breathless, tears welling up as I looked at her.
"-Y/n?"
"Hi, Dodger."
I closed the space between us wrapping one arm around her and the other held her cheek as I kissed her, with all the passion and energy of the years since I'd seen her, giving her every kiss I had saved for her all this time. Till she pulled back both of us teary and smiling.
"I thought I'd lost you forever," I whispered
"For a while, I believed I had." She smiled "You have no idea, how long it took me to find you,"
"What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you,"
"You- you came all this way, to find me?"
"I've never stopped looking for you Jack." she smiled stroking my cheek, "You've changed."
"as have you," I chuckled moving back to see her better "I barely even recognised you, without a muddy braid, that patchy dress, everything that used to be you."
"You can talk, Dr Dawkins?"
"It's been a while. Things have changed, to say the least."
"I don't know, not everything. You've still got the same blonde mop" She smiled playing with my hair
"Well, I don't have you to cut it for me. only person I've ever met who could do it right."
"I've missed you, Jack,"
"I've missed you more. What happened to you?" I asked stroking her scar it was long healed but still it worried me
"Things, Didn't go well once you were gone."
"How so?"
"Left, after what he left you to rot. I couldn't stand to think he'd abandoned you in that awful prison. So I left, turns out... he protected us far more than we knew, and the moment I left a lot of people wanted what they felt they were owed, and with you gone... Let's say they took what I owed, and what you did too."
She explained tears slipping down
"What did they do to you?" I asked wiping her tears
"They took what we had taken Jack, all the years of our work together, they made me repay it all with far more than it was worth."
"How to evert did you make that kind of money?"
"They didn't take money, Jack," she whispered holding my hand and showing her scared skin, I took her closer and examined her, the scars of chains around her hands, broken bones hastily repaired, these were the scars of a slave who often thought back.
"They took... what You and I had stolen, Off Of. You." I asked and she nodded
"I spent years in chains. At their master's order, and his desires, by the time I broke out, you were gone. Not a soul knew where. Ever since I've been trying to find you."
"I'm so sorry y/n. If I'd have known I-"
"It's okay. You're here now."
"I'm here, and I can't believe it's you." I smiled "My first kiss, My first love, My y/n. How on earth did you find me?"
"You left a trail, of breadcrumbs I guess." She giggled "What are you doing in this place?"
"Uhh hiding I guess. I've built a life here perfectly law-abiding... Mostly."
"I'm proud of you, So very proud of you Jack."
"Thank you y/n." I smiled widely, "Do you have somewhere to go tonight?"
"No, travel light, has mostly been sleeping where I can"
"Come on, you're staying with me"
"I am?"
"Yes you are I've missed you too much to bear to be away from you"
"Lead the way then Doger." she smiled offering her hand I took it and gave her hand a kiss leading her towards town
"I uhh I should say, some things have changed." I blushed
"I imagine they have" she giggled cuddling my arm "Last time we shared a bed we were only fourteen... I imagine much has changed about my darling doger." She giggled tickling under my chin like she always used to god damn it! I nearly threw her against the tree when she did that... using that cute little name she used to have for me.
"I don't think I've changed that dramatically have I?"
"You taller" she giggled "Your cheeks used to be right in line for me to kiss them, I'm too little now."
"Humm I'll have to bend down for my flower girl then" I told her giving her lips a sweet kiss having to lean a little given she is a fair bit shorter than me now, "But Things have changed. And... as much as I love that name. You can't call me that anymore."
"What why not?"
"Because only three people in this whole country know that name and we are two of them."
"So why does it matter if no one knows?"
"I want to keep it that way."
"Alright, No more Dodger"
"That's my girl," I told her kissing her head as we got back into town I kept her on my arm as I would any other woman and she gave me such a wicked smile giggling at me
"Why can't I hold your hand?"
"Cause this isn't London y/n. People actually care about that stuff here and believe me they will talk."
"I see. So we have to be... Proper?" She pouted
"Perfectly propper my little flower girl"
"Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"Fine" she sighed
"Okay? Propper lady behaviour. and No dodger. I'm Jack Here, just Jack Dawkins. Doctor Dawkins alright?"
"Oooh Doctor Dawkins, you going to take me on a pleasant Sunday stroll" She giggled doing her best upper-class London accent
"Don't Be cheeky." I warn her "It might have been fourteen years But I'm still not against giving you a spanking if I have to" I whispered
"Humm I recall us walking through Clampam Green, snuggled all cosy, one hand in mine the other up my dress, not a care in the world"
"Believe me if I could I would," I told her "Come on this way," I told her taking her into the side entrance of the hospital "Nice and quiet okay?"
she nodded so I happily kissed her and led her up to my room
"This is all yours?"
"All mine, food and water if you need any, get yourself comfy." I told her slipping my jacket and shoes off
"Where will I sleep?"
"We used to share a blanket then, bout time we shared a bed," I told her sitting on my bed and tapping beside me
"I am very tired" She smirked
"I bet you are."
she giggled and slipped off her cloak hanging it by the door and the moment she was revealed to me-
I uhhh may have had a heart attack-
"What?" She giggled
"... You wonder why I didn't recognise you! Holy- Proportions." I tried very very hard to get my brain to,.... work but it kinda didn't want to. "What uhhh... I uhh I have been gone a while-"
She was confused looking at herself "Yeah, this is what happened Jack, I was malnourished and fourteen last you saw me don't you think things would have.... matured." She explained putting her hands where her hips used to be where I remember them and moving them sideways expanding till they met her hips... now.
"Matured! Look at you your- your-" I stuttered standing and holding her waist looking at her chest in her dress
"Jack" she giggled picking my head up to her face "It was fourteen years ago."
"Yeah! I didn't think you'd have changed... this much."
"Yeah they came in a little while after you left" she giggled moving her arms a little to squeeze them and I watched like a desperate hungry dog,
"Please stop doing that!" I told her holding her arms to make her stop
"Why?" she giggled
"I haven't seen you since we were fourteen, oddly enough I missed you enough! I do not need you bouncing your - Yeah. I'm struggling enough with not throwing you on my bed you really think that's a good idea."
"Hummm" she giggled "Still my darling Dodger" she giggled tickling under my chin and stroking her hand down until she met my pants
"Ummm- enough! enough!" I told her grabbing her hand "Anymore, I really will have to throw you on my bed."
"Alright Sorry Jack." she giggled sitting on my bed and tapping beside her so I happily climbed in sitting with her cuddling her and kissing her making up for all we had missed, "Anything Important I missed?"
"Not really, anything I missed?"
"You... did miss something."
"Ohh tell me then" I cooed between kisses kinda half listening
"I worry it will upset you," she whispered
"Nothing you could tell me could upset me. I'm just so happy you're here, I finally get to see you again, to hold you again, to... kiss you again."
"I left Fagin, for a reason. Not just because of what he did to you."
"Why else?"
"... Because I was pregnant."
"y-you were pregnant? when did you find out?" I began to whisper too
"A week, after your arrest," she said tears welling up
"What... Who got you pregnant, how did this happen?"
"Jack, you a doctor know. I should hope you know... How. it happened." giggled "Well when a flower girl and a little thief love each other very much and... find themselves a dark alley to hide in for the night" she whispered with a smile
"I- I got you pregnant-"
She nods "Once I knew I left for what he had done to you, I wanted to come see you to tell you but the guards wouldn't let me."
"I- I got you pregnant- What was it?"
"A little boy."
I knew I was crying unsure if it was sadness or joy but a mix of the two "A little boy?"
"A sweet little boy, he looked just like you"
"Where is he? Where is he now? Can- Can I meet him?"
"He's dead..."
"What-"
"Cot death. he was only a few weeks old. I'm sorry Jack."
"Sorry, what could you be sorry for? I had a son. You gave me a son I can't thank you enough for that, and I'm so sorry I wasn't there If I'd known... I'd have broken out that prison and found you. I'm so sorry about what happened."
"It was a long time ago, it still hurts but- at least I have you back"
"You have me, and I have you. I promise I'll keep you safe." I told her pulling her into my chest "What was his name?"
"Jack Jr. After you of course"
"That's sweet." I smiled giving her a soft kiss "I'm so sorry I didn't come find you when I escaped. Everything just kinda... happened so fast."
"You're here now. And that's all I care about."
"Y/n... There is something I need to tell you."
"Oh?"
"I uhh I don't quite know how to tell you..."
"Oh no" She said fear across her face "Please don't let it be true Jack-"
"What?"
"Please, don't say there is another girl. Or worse some... woman who holds your heart now" She said "I knew it was possible I had just hoped that- it wouldn't be so, let me guess this new life you've built came with a wife, and family of your own."
"No, no it's nothing like that."
"Then what?"
And just at that moment, the door opened- Oh god no please be the nurse.
"Jack wha-" He began
Shit.
"You!" She yelled jumping from the bed and grabbing one of my knives from the table pointing it at him, she always was quick. "What the dickens are you doing here?"
"Y/n. Our favoured flower girl how-"
"Answer the question Fagin!"
He wouldn't speak
"Answer her," I told him
"I found myself shipped here, destined for the chain gang. Old Dodger took me in"
"Why on God's green earth would you do that!" She yelled now pointing the knife at me
"He'd be dead if I didn't-"
"Good riddance! Jack. Do you not remember what he did to you, He left you for dead in a prison cell."
"I know he did. But I also remember all he did for me, for us. you know we'd been dead on the streets years ago without him"
"I know, that doesn't excuse what he's done."
"Y/n... you know I always thought of you as my daughter-" he began
"No, you didn't! You hated me!"
"Because you didn't do as you were told-"
"Because If I had I'd have been locked up with Jack!"
"Both of you enough!" I told them "I know this isn't the best-case scenario, but we're all here now. And we're all staying here." I told them "Now just stop bloody being at each other's neck and makeup,"
"No!" she yelled
"Y/n."
"... Fine" she pouted handing me the knife
"Fagin?" but silence "Fagin!"
"Fine" He sighed "Have it your way."
"Good, now whether we all like it or not we're here and we're together. And each of us has enough to make sure the others behave so I'm responsible for both of you. You are both going to behave."
"Alright jack" she nods
"Fagin?"
"Fine" he groaned
"Good, Now I have surgery first thing in the morning so all of us, Bed."
Fagin slunked himself over to his blanket in the corner and I made the bed up
"Where shall I sleep?" She asked nervously
"Outside," Fagin suggested
"Oi!" I warned "You will share with me sweetheart" I smiled giving her a kiss
"Oh Gordon bennt fourteen years and I'm still forced to watch you to share bloody Saliva" He complained
"That's enough," I told him
"What shall I wear to bed?" she asked
"umm what should you wear indeed."
"A nuns habit might just cover you enough to keep his hands off" Fagin joked
"I'm not telling you again Fagin." I warn him "You can borrow one of my shirts for tonight, tomorrow we'll go see what we can do about some clothes and a nightie for you"
"I'm not wasting my beer money on her-"
"You won't I will." I snapped "Come on let's get to bed."
I gave her one of my little shirts and got sorted myself climbing into bed and soon enough she came over to my shirt hugging her close as she climbed in with me so I tucked the covers around us and cuddled her tight remembering all those nights frozen half to death so much was still the same, we still share the covers, still cuddle the same, still have fagin in the corner complaining,
"Goodnight Fagin" I sighed
"Night. both."
"Night fagin" she yawns "Goodnight Jack..."
"Good night y/n" I smiled giving her a sweet kiss and blowing out the candle before she turned on her side I spooned her and gave her a few more kisses it felt so good having her body in my arms again even if it wasn't all as I remembered she felt my kisses and moved back letting us have not even an inch between us which only made me tighten my grip and kiss her neck a little more she gently giggled in that cute little way she use to do
"I am trying to sleep you two!" He complained
"Out," I told him between giving her neck and shoulder little kisses
"I need my bed too-"
"Out!" I told him
"And go where?" he complained just as she began to grind against me
"Ummm I don't care just get out" I moaned nibbling her neck
"you know this -"
"Out fagin!" I ordered
"Alright, alright" he sighed complaining all the way as he left the room
"He'd have slapped you round the back of the head back then you told him that"
"Well, he's my servant now. he has to do as I say. I can have him flogged if he doesn't."
"Can you?"
"I can. and if... your my little lady, you can to?"
"Don't tempt me." she giggled "so, shall I show my darling dodger how much I've missed him" she giggled moving onto her back
"Humm only if I get to show my flower girl how much I've missed her too."
"Absouely" she giggled pulling me into an intense kiss so I happily climbed ontop of her pulling away to kiss down her neck "I hope I'm still... desirable to you Jack."
"Still? Sweetheart you've only got better. Aged like a fine wine"
"I'm sure you have too" she giggled
"Well, fourteen years is a long time. I'm not the boy I was then. and I have had many years worth of experience more then I did then. So lay back and let the doctor take care of you"
#thomas brodie sangster#thomasbrodiesangster#tbs imagine#thomas sangster imagine#thomas brodie sangster imagine#tbs smut#tbs imagines#tbs#thomas sangster#thomas brodie sangster smut#jackdawkins#jack dawkins#the artful dodger
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Of Strangers and Rain Delays
Paring: Reader x Lance Stroll
Warnings: slight angst, fluff, meet-cute, pure fluff, first-meetings
Word Count: 2,383
Status: Complete
___________________
With another crack of thunder, Lance spares a glance at the wide window paneling of the Montreal airport. The skies are so dark it’s nearly black, thick clouds hanging over the runways, raindrops smacking against the pavement. The wind billows on, threatening to lift the tarmac that lines small carts zipping across the barely visible rows of lights, emitting a weak hue consumed by the onslaught of rain.
He can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.
Somehow, he knew this would happen.
From the moment he’d received word that their private airfield was closed, to the moment that his team was ushered to a quiet, empty terminal. He knew that the rain would keep him stranded in Canada. He had no real reason to worry, when Aston Martin constructed his travel plans, they always did so with the weather in mind.
He looked over at his P.R. manager. She sat across from him, her legs crossed over one another, staring down at a tablet. The glow of the screen cast a shadow over her concerned face, moving when her fingers worried at the skin of her lips.
“Something the matter, Charlotte?”
She flicked her eyes up at him, “Nothing that isn’t already my job, Lance.”
He snorts.
There were very few people who would have the backbone to speak to him so freely. It wasn’t that Lance thought of himself as above them, but the world seemed hellbent on making it so that was all anyone ever said. What they said to him couldn’t be worse than what he had said to himself.
There was a reason why he pushed himself into the car, forcing his freshly broken wrists to work just as hard as they had before. Everyone was watching him, everyone was judging him. He could feel their eyes, burning right through him. It stung.
But he was used to it.
From the very moment he’d gotten his seat, it was all Lance has ever heard.
Just a rich kid running with daddy’s money. That’s all he was to them.
Lance looked back down at her phone, a lump suddenly in his throat, “Did they say how long we’re going to be here?”
“I’m not sure,” She looked over to her left, her assistant - Mary - hunched over a computer, “Did they say?”
“We won’t have the clear for hours,” Mary muttered, her heavy bangs falling into her eyes, “Sorry.”
“‘S okay,” He clicked his phone off, pushing it into his pocket.
“Think I’ll go walk around,” He began to stand, catching the way that Charolette’s eyes widened, “ You can’t expect me to sit like this for hours.”
She let out a heavy sigh.
“Lance -”
He knows. He knows what it is.
“I won’t be far,” He tries to offer her a smile, “I’ll get you something to drink, you want something, right?”
She hesitated, she knew that he was aware. Regardless of what people liked to say, Lance wasn’t an idiot.
“I do,” She puts her hands over her tablet, leaning back in her chair, “Diet Coke, please?”
“You got it.”
_________
He can’t shake the look on Charolette’s face. It circles his mind as he walks down the long stretch of the airport hallway. The walls are painted a soothing tan, with bright lights overhead. He reaches over to skim his fingers along the dips within the paint.
It isn’t until he approaches the end of the hallway that he begins to hear chatter. It grows louder as he gets closer, and eventually, he’s standing right in the middle of the bustling terminals. He had no idea that they’d managed to hide him so well.
It wasn’t like he was Charles or anything, he didn’t have fans clamoring over themselves just to see him, but there were certainly weirdos. It had been a while since he’d seen one, surprised that he would’ve been allowed to go this far without seeing one of Aston Martain’s staff rounding the corner with him.
He shrugs it away.
People are much too preoccupied with themselves to notice him. He can hear people shouting at flight attendants from across the wide space, bags thrown around the floor. So much rain wasn’t typical for this time of year, but Mother Nature was simply an unstoppable force.
It isn’t before long that he spots a small cart of drinks with a bright orange umbrella in the air. He sidesteps people, offering small, ‘excuse me’s. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, not after last weekend.
He wasn’t the most popular of drivers at the moment.
Charlotte tried to hide his phone from him after the race, saying he needed to focus on recovery. Lance saw right through her and refused to leave without it. With a slight quiver in her lip, she pressed it into his palm.
“Don’t look,” She said, her hand tight around his, “It won’t do you any good, Lance.”
“What haven’t I already heard, Charlotte,” He slipped his hand away from hers, stuffing his phone into his pocket. He would have plenty of time to look on the plane home.
He did.
Lance scrolled on Instagram and Twitter, trying to bite back the anger that rose from within him again. That video - that stupid video - of him with Henry. The camera shook as he just left the frame, only the sight of his green racing suit racing out. There was the rattle of the large toolbox beside him, and the movement of Henry’s body.
Shit.
It was everywhere.
And so were the comments.
They called him spoiled, a monster, a cheater, a loser - everything under the sun was thrown at him, and he just kept scrolling.
Reading word after word, until his eyes began to burn. Lance deserved worse than this. He was a professional, Henry was his trainer, and he shoved him.
Like a dick.
Lance sucks in a deep breath when he gets to the cart, surprised to see no line. He digs into his pocket, “I’ll take a Diet Coke and two waters, please.”
The cashier nods along, ringing him up with a polite smile. He reads Lance his total, opening a plastic bag to place the drinks in, “Thank you, have a good day, sir.”
“Thanks,” Lance mutters, reaching for the bag, “You too.”
As he turns to walk away, he notices a kid, no older than 9 or 10, running around with an Aston Martin sweatshirt on. The green is bright against the dull furnishings of the airport. Lance can’t fight the smile that makes its way on his face or the embarrassment that begins to bloom in his gut.
The seats scattered around the terminals are packed, filled to the brim with stranded passengers. Pieces of luggage are scattered about the floor, little kids jump over them in an attempt to entertain themselves, people are engaged in rapid conversation, and some are slumped over the small armrests, asleep.
It was nice, to fade into the background.
He loved the fans, but Lance has always been a quiet person. His personal time is sacred, his downtime is sacred. He had his obligations on race weekends, signing hats and shirts blindly, but here, he was just a guy trying to get drinks.
He turns back towards the exit, the walkway seems to get more crowded. Lance lets out a sigh before he can stop himself. If he goes now, he’ll be discovered.
Fuck.
Looking around him, there are no spaces not taken by bodies. He tries to round a corner, keeping the bag tight to his chest.
He spots an empty seat, well, one without a human in it.
It’s only a few steps away from him, he’s there before he can turn around.
There’s a girl, headphones around her head, hoodie pulled over them. Her glasses reflect the screen of her laptop, positioned on her crossed legs. She’s invested in something, a hand cupping her chin.
Lance debates walking away, but she notices him before he can.
She looks up at him, pulling one of the slides of her headphones back, eyes widening slightly.
“Yes?”
“Sorry,” He says, jostling the bag in his hand, “Is someone sitting there?”
She looks over, and immediately reaches to grab her backpack, “No, no, sorry.”
He waves a dismissive hand at her, “It’s ok.”
He settles beside her, sliding down in the seat. The noise of the space fills his head, he doesn’t have to think any thoughts of his own. Minutes tick by, the bag resting against his legs. His phone buzzes.
Charlotte.
“Where did you go?”
“I just needed a break, sorry.”
The three bubbles dance across the bottom of his screen before disappearing and reappearing.
“It’s ok. Come back when you’re ready, kid.”
He smiles. The lump in his throat back again. Lance knows that he’s made her job harder, he knows that as she scrolls on that tablet of hers she is trying to manage the damage he’s caused. She has been nothing but supportive, a guiding hand during interviews, and he does nothing but make her life harder.
He sighs.
Lance tries to forget himself. He takes in the room once more, eyes trailing over the streaks of rain, over the fluorescent lights, the people. He tries to forget the last race week. He looks over at the girl beside him, catching sight of her screen.
It’s a movie, he’s unsure if he’s seen before. The two characters on screen stalk around each other, weapons at the ready, blood dripping down their temple. Looks intense.
He begins to pull his gaze away when he catches sight of shimmering Formula One helmet stickers. The glossy sticker glitters in the light, dark forest green mimicking the design of his helmet, with ‘Stroll 18’ written beneath it in bolded letters. His isn't the only one there, Max and Fernando among the few, but it’s the only one he cares to see.
When he looks back at her, she already staring at him.
There’s clear embarrassment across her face, a dark blush across her cheeks.
She pulls her headphones off as she begins to speak, “I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable -”
“It’s okay,” He stops her before she can continue, a smirk pulling at his features, “You didn’t know I was going to be here.”
A beat of silence passes before he adds, “Or did you?”
She gapes at him, “Of course not! That’s so weird. Don’t even joke like that.”
“Sorry,” He mutters, trying to hide his smile with his hand.
“No, you’re not,” She lets out a small giggle, and Lance can’t help but want to hear it again.
With her hood pulled down, he can see her more clearly. She’s beautiful.
The lines of her face, the curve of her lips, the slope of her nose. Even with her face glowing, her smile is all he can see.
“You’re right,” He shrugs, tucking his arms into his sides, “I’m not.”
“That’s rude,” She’s quick to answer back, movie paused.
“I’ve been told I’m rude,” The words slip from him.
The look on her face changes, the slight drop of her lips. She just stares at him, but it doesn’t burn.
“Maybe you are,” She says finally, looking down at the ground before back up to him, “Doesn’t mean you’re a bad guy.”
Her words pierce him.
The lump in his throat is thicker than before, he nearly feels like he’s choking on it. It means more than she could ever know, a stranger’s opinion. He doesn’t even know her name. He wonders for a second if she can hear his heart pounding, ears burning.
“Thanks,” He forces out.
“‘Course,” She smiles.
It feels like the sun on Lance’s skin.
“Are - Are you a fan?” He tries to change the subject.
“Yeah,” She mutters pulling her laptop to her chest, “Sorry about the - the stickers…”
“It’s ok,” He laughs, trying to rub away the tightness in his chest, “It’s nice to meet a fan.”
She smiles, picking at the sleeves of her sweater, “Well, I never thought I’d be able to meet any driver.”
“Why’s that?”
She looks at him and rolls her eyes, “Are you kidding? The cost of a grand prix is more than I make in a month.”
She fixes herself on the seat, tucking her leg around the chair, “Can’t afford it.”
He hums.
There’s a certain guilt that builds up within him. There was always that saying, ‘Cash is King.’ He has known so many talented drivers forced to leave the sport because it demanded more than they had. The prices got far too high and the rewards were far too little. He knows more than most give him credit for that he’s privileged, his father’s money has allowed him to fail more than some ever get the chance to.
“So then,” he continues, “Where are you headed to?”
“Mr. Stroll,” She stares up at him through her glasses, “Do you know that you’re not supposed to share that information with strangers?”
The laugh that is pulled from him is far louder than he means for it to be. It draws the annoyed glances of a few people around them, but it makes him double over. She laughs too, failing to smother it with her hand.
It isn’t funny, but it’s perfect.
“So you get to know everything about me, but I know nothing about you?”
“You’re famous,” She mutters, pressing a hand to her chest, “I’m just a fan.”
Lance shrugs. He didn’t want her to be just a fan, but maybe that’s just the rain talking.
“Still. I think it’s only fair,” She opens her mouth but Lance adds, “And anyway, I’m just a guy.”
Her mouth clicks shut. She stares at him again for a second, that same look returning to her eyes. It’s almost as if she can see right through him, but he doesn't mind.
“Then,” She puts her hand out, “How about this…”
She introduces herself, telling him her name before saying, “It’s nice to meet you, stranger.”
Lance looks down at her waiting hand. Her smile is dazzling. It’s bright against the dark murkiness of the rain, it balances him.
Lance breathes out.
“I’m Lance, nice to meet you too, stranger.”
_________________________
A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3
I also feel the need to remind some people that these are FICTITIOUS pls remember that
#meet cute#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#female reader#formula 1#one shot#x reader#fluff#first meetings#lance stroll#lance stroll x reader#lance stroll fluff#lance stroll x y/n#aston martin#lance stroll x you#lance stroll imagine#formula one x reader#formula one fanfiction#fluff fic#f1 fluff#pure fluff#first meeting#lance stroll my beloved
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Someone Else ; Ethan Landry
summary: you had been holding onto your relationship with chad, afraid to let go even though you both had feelings for other people, but now that you’ve reached your breaking point you are ready to move on
pairing(s): Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader, Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!Reader (mostly past tense)
warnings: angst, breakups, crying, angst, fluff, not proofread, possibly ooc ethan, chad kinda being an ass, kissing.
notes: if only he wasn’t literally psychotic lmao, but we are just gonna pretend for this one guys…
no ghostface/non-ghostface ethan
2k words
masterlist requests
———————————————————————————
This was your last straw.
You were currently standing outside of the library in the pouring rain. The building had closed over 30 minutes ago, yet Chad had yet to pick you up as he had promised. You tried calling him, but after the third time, you gave up, letting out a sigh.
The truth was that you and Chad should have broken up months ago. You both knew this, yet neither one of you had taken the final step, never daring to cross over that line and into unfamiliar territory.
Although you fought most of the time, and you barely even wanted to touch each other, it was still familiar.
It was safe.
You don’t know why you had even expected Chad to show up. A part of you thought you owed it to yourself to try one last time with him. You had been through so much together, and he was all you had known for the past two years.
Though as you stood in the rain, shivering from the cool New York breeze you tried to be honest with yourself.
Not only had you and Chad drifted away from each other since you moved to college, but you also had both developed feelings for someone else.
You saw the way Chad looked at Tara. He was happy, and you couldn't blame him.
You had simply fallen out of love with each other and fallen into the hands of other people.
You felt like you were finally accepting that, and as if on cue Chad's name lit up on your phone screen.
“Hello.” You answered, your voice calmer than Chad had been expecting.
“I-I just remembered I was supposed to pick you up!” His voice sounded tired and you could hear the faint sound of a girl in the back.
It wasn’t hard for you to connect the dots…he had fallen asleep at Tara’s.
“Chad, what are we even doing?” You couldn't hold it together anymore.
You were both miserable.
There was a long silence on the other end as Chad processed your words.
“W-What are you talking about.” he knew exactly what you had meant.
You slowly shook your head in frustration, “We fight all the time and can barely stand being around each other. You spend more time at Tara’s than you do at your own dorm and I-” you paused for a moment, debating if you should bring up Ethan.
“And you're always with Ethan.” Chad finished your sentence.
Tears pricked your eyes and you almost laughed at how stupid this all felt, “Why are we torturing ourselves by staying together when we both love someone else?” you could begin to feel a weight lift from your chest as the words slipped past your lips.
Chad knew you were right.
“You really love him?” His voice was gentle, and you knew he wasn't upset.
“Yes, and I know you love her.” A tear rolled down your cheek, mixing with the rain that was still falling down onto your face.
You could hear Chad take a deep breath, “We should both let ourselves be happy then. We deserve happiness.”
Despite what the tears on your cheeks might say, you weren't sad.
You were relieved.
“We do.” the weight had almost been completely lifted off your chest, “Goodbye Chad.”
You hit the end button and suddenly there was no weight left to bear. Your tears were gone and the only thing you had on your mind was calling Ethan.
You didn't waste any time before you clicked on his contact. It had only taken a few rings before you heard his voice.
“Hey, everything okay?” You could hear the subtle concern that wrapped its way around his tone given how late it was.
For the first time in months, you felt like you could genuinely answer the question. You were more than okay. You were free.
“Yeah, I'm okay,” a cold shiver ran down your body, “I know it's late, but could you come to pick me up? I’m outside of the library and it's pouring rain and I'd rather not walk home in the dark. Chad was supposed to come but-” you weren't even able to finish your sentence before Ethan was interrupting you.
“I’m on my way.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice.
He hated these nights. Ethan would come to your rescue and piece you back together just so you could fall back into the same routine the next day. He didn't mind being there for you, but it was getting increasingly hard to push down the feelings that surfaced every time he was around you.
All he wanted was for you to be happy…with him.
It was only a few minutes before you could see the headlights on Ethan's car approach the front of the library.
“Thank god.” you whispered to yourself as you weren't sure how much longer you were going to last in the cold.
Your whole body had been shivering by the time you were opening the car door, though you hesitated before getting in.
“I-I don’t wanna get water on your seats.” Your clothes were soaking wet and you were sure it would leave a mess in the nice car.
As soon as he saw your shivering figure standing at the door of the car he could feel anger start bubbling up within him.
He would never understand how Chad just seemed to forget about you most of the time, and he wasn’t sure why you continued to take it.
“Get in, I don't care about the seats.” His voice came out a bit rougher than he intended.
You tried not to overthink the unusual roughness that his voice held as you got into the car and closed the door.
Ethan quickly turned the heat up in the car, hoping it would help you stop shivering, but it wasn't much good as your clothes were still freezing cold.
“Thanks for coming.” You felt a sudden nervousness you had never felt around the boy before.
Ethan tried to take a calming breath, but he couldn't shake the fact that he was upset. Seeing you like this, a shivering mess in his car, made him want to go find Chad himself and knock some kind of sense into him.
“It's fine.” The frustration he was feeling seeped into his words.
You could now clearly tell that he was upset and you understood why. He was stuck cleaning up Chad's mess, and up until this point you had fallen right back into your relationship every time, no matter what Chad had said or done.
As he pulled his car back by his dorm building, you wanted nothing more than to tell him what had happened before he arrived.
You wanted to tell him that you and Chad had ended things and that you loved him. However, no matter how hard you tried, every time you saw the hard expression on his face the words couldn't seem to make their way past your lips.
You silently followed Ethan up to his dorm.
It wasn’t until you had both stepped inside that Ethan finally spoke again.
“I’ll get you some clean clothes.” He avoided eye contact, afraid that if he were to look at you then he would say something he couldn't take back.
You didn't say anything, but instead just waited until he handed the clothes to you.
Without another word, you made your way into the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror and the sight certainly wasn't pretty.
You had dried mascara running down your cheeks and your hair had seen better days.
You peeled off the wet clothes and placed them in the shower, hoping they would dry overnight.
You quickly threw on the clothes Ethan had brought you before washing the black streaks of mascara off your face and brushing out your tangles.
Meanwhile, Ethan was sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.
He felt like everything he had been feeling for the past 4 months had come to the surface and refused to go back down. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he wasn't sure he was prepared to face the consequences that would come after his confession.
“E?” Your gentle voice filled the air in his bedroom, making him look up, finally making eye contact with you.
“I can’t keep doing this, Y/n. I-I can’t keep watching you go back to him. I jus-” You stopped him before he could stay anything else.
You were now sitting beside him on the bed, “Ethan,” you gently laced your fingers together with his, “We broke up. It's over.”
His eyes were wide and confusion filled his entire body, “W-What?”
You gave his hand a tight squeeze, “We fell out of love a long time, okay, I guess we were just both scared to let go,” you carefully chose your next words, “We both have feelings for someone else…I have feelings for someone else.”
Ethan felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.
“You do?” suddenly he was hyper-aware of the feeling of your hand in his.
"I love you, and I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to tell you that. I’ve dragged you along for so much shit, and it hasn't been fair to you” Your own heart felt like it might explode.
You were terrified of the words that were going to come next. You were terrified you might lose your best friend and that it was too late.
You hoped you had not missed your window.
“I love you too.” A smile found its way onto his face as the words hung in the air.
He loved you
He loved you
He loved you
“I’m gonna kiss you now.” You let out a soft laugh before you brought your lips to his. Ethan followed your lead, unsure of what exactly to do.
Warmth blossomed in your chest as your lips moved tentatively together. His lips were warm and soft as they parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip past his lips and into his mouth. You both let out a satisfied hum at the sensation.
You wished you could stay like this forever, but you knew you would eventually have to come up for air so you slowly pulled away, lips pink and swollen.
Your heart had never felt more full than it did at this moment.
“W-Was that okay?” Ethan asked nervously.
You brought your hand up to his face, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, “It was perfect.”
Relief washed over his face as he laughed at his own awkwardness.
“Who knew you'd be such a good kisser.” You smiled jokingly.
“Shut up.” He playfully rolled his eyes at you before pulling you down onto the bed next to him.
It only took a few minutes for exhaustion to creep its way into your body, and you could barely hold your eyes open by the time Ethan had pulled the covers over you both and turned you over so you could lay on his chest.
“I love you.” Ethan whispered before planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.
A tired smile formed on your lips, “I love you too, E.”
Between the rhythmic beating of Ethan's heart and his thumb gently rubbing circles on your arm, sleep came quickly.
The last thought crossing your mind before slipping into unconsciousness was that you had finally gotten the happiness you deserve.
All because of him.
#scream#scream vi#ghostface#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry x you#jack champion
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