Tumgik
#Aston Martin Electric Car
frdesignia · 2 months
Text
Car designer by Fabio Ricardo // I.A. FR ART DESIGN
Tumblr media
182 notes · View notes
11oh1 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
172 notes · View notes
en-wheelz-me · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
japanbizinsider · 1 year
Text
0 notes
pinkflower2003 · 14 days
Text
A NEW GOOD LUCK CHARM
FERNANDO ALONSO SMAU PT.1
Fernando Alonso x Russel!Reader
Send your requests/submissions🍓
Faceclaim: Perrie Edwards & her son
Tumblr media
Liked by YNRussell, LewisHamilton, AlexAlbon & 698,476 others
GeorgeRussell: Birthday post for my sister, as she threatened if I didn’t she would run me over with my car, so happy birthday sis, as much as you scare me, you’re actually an alright sister🫶🏻
tagged: YNRussell
YNRussell: GEORGE? THE THIRD PICTURE?? do you have a death wish??
GeorgeRussell: ‘thanks George, I really appreciate it, can’t wait to see you again, love and miss you’ who raised you?? damn
YNRussell: yeah, u clearly do have a death wish. Where are my car keys?
GeorgeRussell: NO WAIT IM SORRY DON’T RUN ME OVER
AlexAlbon: Happy Birthday sister from another mister, missing you!!
YNRussell: ALEX MY BABY, my favourite sibling, tell Lily you both have to come over soon, Axel misses you!!
Lilymhe: Axel misses me? i’m omw right now, dropping everything 🏃‍♀️
GeorgeRussell: um hello?? i’m his ACTUAL uncle, does he miss me too?
YNRussell: not since you decided he was mater and you were lightening mcqueen, no.
LandoNorris: that’s low George, real low. You took being lightening mcqueen away from a child??
GeorgeRussell: HES 2? I didn’t think he’d tell the difference😔
LandoNorris: they always know.
Username1: George has a sister? is this common knowledge or am I late to the party?
username2: it’s not overly common knowledge I suppose, she likes to keep private a lot due to being a single mum. She likes to keep her son out of the spotlight a lot, though she has been going to watch George race a bit more regularly, so hopefully we’ll see more of her!
Username1: she’s a single mum? she does not look old enough to have a child omg
Username3: I love that Axel has so many uncles throughout F1😭
FernandoAlonso: Feliz cumpleaños, YN!
YNRussell liked this comment!
Tumblr media
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
INTERVIEW WITH GEORGE RUSSELL
INTERVIEWER: So, George, we’ve seen you have a visitor on the paddock today. Your sister, YN and her son, your nephew, have come to watch you race.
GEORGE: Yeah, they have! I’m super close with my sister so having her here is always amazing, especially when she brings my nephew, it makes the race extra special for me.
INTERVIEWER: Does your nephew have a favourite driver? Or is that place reserved for you?
GEORGE: *laughs* no, i don’t think that place is for me, he’s not really interested in the fact I race. He’s pretty young still to understand who his favourite driver is yet but he always seems to clap when Alonso comes onto the screen so i’m going to take a wild guess and say its him!
INTERVIEWER: Will he have the chance to meet Alonso today, or will he be staying at the Mercedes garage?
GEORGE: Knowing my sister, she will be taking him wherever he wants to go, so it is most likely they will end up in the Aston Martin garage.
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
The sun was shining brightly as Y/N held Axel’s tiny hand, leading him through the bustling paddock. The air was electric with excitement, the roar of engines in the background making her son’s eyes widen with awe. Today was a special day. Uncle George was racing, and Y/N had promised Axel that they would watch him together. But Axel had other ideas.
“Mama, see Nando?” Axel asked, his big blue eyes sparkling with hope.
Y/N smiled down at her son, her heart melting at his innocence. “We’ll see, darling. Fernando is very busy getting ready for the race, just like Uncle George. But we’ll try, okay?”
Axel nodded enthusiastically, his little feet practically skipping as they made their way to the Aston Martin garage. Y/N’s heart raced a little faster too. Fernando Alonso was a legend, and even she felt a bit starstruck at the thought of possibly meeting him.
They approached the garage, the vibrant green and black of the Aston Martin team standing out against the sea of colors in the paddock. Y/N spoke to a friendly team member, explaining Axel’s wish and who she had come to the race with.
“We can’t promise anything, but let’s see what we can do,” the team member said with a kind smile.
As they waited, Axel’s excitement was palpable. He clutched his miniature Alonso cap tightly, his eyes darting around in hopes of catching a glimpse of his hero. Y/N knelt down beside him, brushing a stray curl from his forehead.
“Remember, Axel, even if we don’t get to meet him, we’re going to have a great time watching uncle George and uncle Alex race,” she reminded him gently.
But luck seemed to be on their side today. After a few moments, Fernando Alonso himself walked over, a broad smile on his face. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Here he was, the man she’d watched on TV for years, now standing right in front of them.
“Hello there, little man,” Fernando said, his voice warm and friendly as he crouched down to Axel’s level. “I hear you’re a big fan.”
Axel’s eyes widened in pure delight, “Nando, I’m Axel!”
“Nice to meet you, Axel,” Fernando replied, shaking his tiny hand. Then he looked up at Y/N, his eyes twinkling. “And you must be George’s sister, YN, i’m Fernando, i’ve heard a lot about you from everyone.”
“Y-yes, I’m Y/N,” she stammered, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. “Thank you so much for taking the time to meet us.”
Fernando smiled warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Would you like to see the car up close, Axel?”
Axel’s face lit up with excitement, and Fernando led them to the car. Y/N watched, her heart swelling with gratitude and admiration, as Fernando lifted Axel and carefully placed him in the cockpit. Axel’s giggles of delight were like music to her ears.
As Axel explored the buttons and steering wheel with wide-eyed wonder, Fernando turned to Y/N. “He’s a great kid. You must be very proud.”
“I am,” she said softly, watching her son with love. “This means the world to him. And to me.”
Y/N couldn’t believe how lovely and down-to-earth Fernando was. She found herself completely starstruck, not just by his talent but by his kindness. Y/N had met many racers through her years of watching her brother race, but today was the first time meeting Fernando, and he was so unlike the rest.
After a few minutes, Fernando gently lifted Axel out of the car and handed him back to Y/N. “Good luck charm,” he said with a wink. “I’ll race even faster today knowing Axel is cheering me on. And maybe i’ll win if i have the luck of getting your number?” He said, as Y/N laughed at the cheesiness of his pickup line.
“Do you use that with every woman that comes into the garage?” YN joked, not thinking he was serious, but from the look on his face, she could tell he wasn’t making a joke of her. “Never,” he smiled slightly, as Y/N swallowed.
Y/N hadn’t dated since becoming pregnant with her son, and she hadn’t thought she would date again. Raising a child was hard, and it was harder when there were other people involved, so she hadn’t gone on dates, given her number out, she had focused on Axel.
“You want my number?” y/n asked, dumbfounded, not quite understanding what she was hearing. Fernando gave a chuckle at the look on your face.
“Of course, who wouldn’t from a beautiful woman like yourself?”
YN became flustered as she struggled to get her phone out of her back pocket, not fully understanding how she had gone from visiting her son’s favourite driver to him asking her for her number.
Exchanging numbers, Axel stayed by Fernando’s side practically holding onto the drivers leg for dear life. Y/N apologised, reaching to grab her son and place him on her hip, but Fernando waved her off, reaching for Axel instead, giving him a hug goodbye before he went off to race.
“What do you say if I do well today, I take you and your mummy out for food sometime?” Fernando asked Axel, looking at Y/N out of the corner of his eye. Axel’s mouth fell open, he was young, but he knew that Fernando meant spending more time together, and for that he gave a squeal, wanting to spend more time with ‘Nando.
“I guess you’ll have to do well today then,” Y/N smiled, as Fernando smiled back at her.
“I guess I will.”
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
Tumblr media
Liked by YNRussell, F1, LanceStroll & 979,567 others
FernandoAlonso: Good ending to the race and a few new visitors to the garage, thank you to my new good luck charms who came and saw me today!
view all comments
YNRussell: Thank you for having us, you made Axel’s day! Can’t wait to come and see you race again soon!
FernandoAlonso: bring him back to the next race, I need my good luck charms around
GeorgeRussell: Axel, you traitor. But also, WHAT IS HAPPENING?? This is where @/YN was the whole race?
Username5: George is all of us rn
LandoNorris: He’s still got it with the ladies, smooth Nando
AlexAlbon: King Axel👑
Username6: are they dating?? what is happening?
Username7: isn’t he a bit old for her?
Username8: she’s literally 29 with a child, i’m pretty sure she’s capable of making her own decisions
Username9: NEW F1 COUPLE??
708 notes · View notes
lxndonorris · 2 months
Text
All smiles - Lance Stroll
Tumblr media
Y/N x Lance Stroll Theme: Smutish; light touching, not explicit spending time with Lance before the Japanese Grand Prix x word count: 1250+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)
Gif by me
The buzz of anticipation fills the air as the Japanese Grand Prix approaches. In the heart of the Aston Martin garage, excitement crackles like static electricity. You stand by, wearing Lance's green Aston Martin shirt and a pair of dark jeans, feeling a mix of nerves and pride as he prepares for the first training session.
Lance, clad in his racing suit, stands by his car, a vision of determination and focus. His eyes dance with excitement as he watches the mechanics fine-tune every detail of his racing machine. You can't help but admire his passion for racing, radiating from every pore.
Lost in the moment, Lane's gaze drifts, his mind undoubtedly wandering to the countless laps he would soon embark upon. You watch him, captivated by the raw energy he exudes. It's obvious; he is in his element, a true racer at heart.
Breaking the silence, you speak softly, your voice cutting through the hum of activity in the garage. "What are you smiling about?" You ask, your eyes alight with curiosity.
Lance turns to you, his grin widening as he meets your gaze. "I'm just happy to be here," he replies, his voice filled with genuine joy. "To be living my dream, racing in Formula 1, it's everything I've ever wanted."
You feel a surge of warmth wash over you at his words. Knowing how hard Lance worked to reach this point, the countless hours of training, the sacrifices he made along the way, and all the comments he had to endure just for following his passion.
"Lance." You breathe, and you can't help but be drawn to him. With a tender smile, you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing deeply beneath the palm of your hand.
"Hey," you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "that smile looks good on you."
A blush creeps up Lance's cheeks, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sends shivers down your spine. He opens his mouth to reply, but before any words could escape, he finds himself leaning in, drawn to you like a magnet.
Your lips meet in a soft, gentle kiss, a moment suspended in time amidst the chaos of the garage. In that instant, the world falls away, leaving only you two, lost in each other's embrace.
As you pull apart, Lance's smile lingers, a beacon of light in the dimly lit garage. You can't help but return it, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you.
"Let's go, Lance." A mechanic pats his back; it's time for the first training session to begin.
As he gets ready, you can't help but admire him once more: his racing suit hugs his form flawlessly. His hair, tousled just so, gives him an air of effortless charm, reminiscent of a Disney prince brought to life.
With each movement, his suit seems to accentuate his physique, highlighting the scuplted lines of his body in all the right places. You catch a glimpse of the white fireproofs beneath his unzipped suit, a tantalizing hint of what lies beneath.
Lance meets your gaze with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knows the effect he has on you, reveling in the tease as he toys with the zipper of his suit.
You can't help but play along, a smile dancing on your lips as he strokes himself subconsciously, his hand running across his chest once, then twice, before gently brushing over his crotch and along his waistline.
As Lance settles into the cockpit of his Aston Martin, the anticipation thrumms through the air like electricity. With a quick adjustment of his helmet and a tightening of his gloves, he is ready. With the roar of the engine, he pulls out onto the track, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
You watch from the sidelines, your heart racing in tandem with the car as it speeds off into the distance. Slipping on your headphones, tuning into Lance's radio channel, eager to hear his voice as he navigates the twists and turns of the circuit, you stand next to his mechanics as they feel the same.
As the crackle of the radio fills your ears, you can't help but smile. Every word that comes through is laced with excitement and enthusiasm, a testament to Lance's love for the sport. You can picture the grin on his face as he tackles each corner with precision, pushing his car to the limit with every lap.
And then, amidst the static, you hear it—the unmistakable sounds of laughter, bright and infectious. Lance is giggling; the sheer joy of racing evident in every note of his voice. It is a sound that fills you with warmth, knowing that your boyfriend is living out his dreams on track.
As the session draws to a close, Lance's radio falls silent, the final moments of the session ticking away. But you know that his smile will linger long after he steps out of the car.
Lance emerges from the cockpit, and you sense the adrenaline still flowing through him, his body taut with excitement. You watch him with a mixture of pride and admiration, knowing just how much he loves being behind the wheel.
As he approaches his mechanics, their handshake is filled with a silent understanding, a shared bond forged through countless hours spent working towards a common goal.
With a deft motion, Lance removes his helmet, revealing a sweaty but smiling face beneath. His cheeks are flushed with exertion, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of the ride. Your heart skips a beat as you meet his gaze, feeling the warmth of his smile wash over you like a wave.
Lance turns to you, his smile widening at the sight of you. As he approaches you, you notice the confident swagger in his step, a testament to the exhilarating session he just completed on track. Before you can say a word, he pulls you into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.
You melt into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his touch and the taste of his lips against yours. Steadying yourself against his body, you start to stroke him. 
Your hand moves with purpose, gliding over Lance's chest, relishing in the taut muscles beneath the fabric of his racing suit. As you apply a firm stroke, you feel a low growl reverberate through his throat, a primal sound that gives you gossebumps.
Caught off guard by your touch, Lance meets your gaze with a mixture of surprise and desire. "How did I do?" he asks, his voice husky with anticipation.
You smile, your eyes sparkling with joy. "You were phenomenal," you reply, your words filled with genuine pride.
A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips again when you lean in, kissing him gently.
"You really should smile more." Your lips brush over his own. "I'm just so happy for you." As you run your hand through his messy hair, you marvel at the way it frames his face, tousled and wind-swept from the intensity of his time on track. Each strand feels like silk beneath your fingers.
Lance leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the sensation. With a soft sight, he opens his eyes, meeting your gaze with an affectionate smile.
"I will smile more, just for you, I promise," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth.
313 notes · View notes
amirasainz · 1 month
Note
hiii!!! i was wondering if you would write baby!sainz having a photoshoot with one of the teams like how irina did with ferrari in vogue italia 🤍
Hi loves! This is for all my Lance fans out there. Enjoy reading and send some requests.
-XoXo
On Vogue
Amira’s heart raced as she stepped onto the set, surrounded by the sleek curves of Aston Martin cars. The photographer, his lens hungry for magic, greeted her and Lance Stroll. The air crackled with anticipation—two worlds colliding: high fashion and the adrenaline-fueled racetrack.
“Hello, Lancelot,” Amira greeted, her eyes dancing with excitement. Lance’s smile was disarming, and he replied, “Amira, you have to stop taking my breath away with your beauty.” Her giggle was a symphony, and suddenly, the studio lights seemed dimmer.
“Where’s Fernando?” Amira asked, her gaze searching. “They told me the whole team would be here.” Lance’s smile faltered. “He couldn’t make it,” he replied, masking disappointment. In truth, he’d misled the Spaniard, claiming the shoot was in Portugal. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
The photographer beckoned them to the center of the set, where two Aston Martins awaited—a modern masterpiece and a vintage classic. “Amira, Lance,” he said, “it’s an honor to have you here. Let’s go over the plan. Couple shots in the modern car, individual portraits in the vintage one. Are you both okay with that?” Their nods sealed the deal.
As the camera clicked, an electric energy enveloped Amira and Lance. Their chemistry transcended mere poses; they became a story—the passionate racer and the enchanting muse. The photographer captured stolen glances, whispered secrets, and laughter that echoed through the studio. It felt like they were the king and queen of a realm where speed met elegance.
For the individual shots, Lance stepped behind the camera, coaxing genuine smiles from Amira. His antics—pulling funny faces, mimicking engine sounds—had her in stitches. She reciprocated, capturing Lance’s intensity as he stared down the lens. It was a road trip through emotions, each frame revealing a different facet of their connection.
After the shoot, as the studio lights dimmed, Lance leaned against the vintage Aston Martin. “Quite an interesting day, no?” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. Amira’s smile was radiant. “I’ve never had so much fun during a shoot. And for Vogue!” She pulled him into a hug, gratitude and exhilaration intertwining.
“Thank you for making this day even better, Lance,” she whispered. His reply was simple: “Anything for you.” Then, with a courage born of adrenaline and shared moments, he asked, “Would you like to have dinner with me?” Her nod was all the confirmation he needed—the start of a new chapter in their story.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
103 notes · View notes
saintmurd0ck · 1 year
Text
cherry red
Tumblr media
masterlist
pairing: frank castle x f!reader
summary: you and frank break into a vintage car dealership to scope something out for agent madani, and it turns out that you have a little time to spare before the drop happens
warnings: mentions of cocaine (no drug use), breaking and entering, the FBI lmao, shameless flirting, calling frank big boy, pain kink if you squint, (very little) spit because how else do you up frank's pleasure *gunshot*, unprotected p in v, creampie, goodbye i'm going to bed
a/n: for everyone who agrees that frank should be called 'big boy', this is for you!!! also this is my first full length frank fic lets fucking go
Tumblr media
There’s not a sound but the rustle of your clothes as you case the dealership, Frank following closely behind you. He looks over his shoulders—a cautionary measure, despite the fact that the owners are on the other side of the world—before thumbing at the light switch on the wall.
Fluorescent lights flicker on in stages, a steady, low hum of electricity filling the space. Your eyes squint as you adjust to the brightness.
Frank looses a bated breath. “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit,” you affirm, casting your gaze across the almost-cavernous, windowless room. Rows and rows of vintage cars stare back, their timeless, luxurious finishes glinting in the white light.
“That’s gotta be worth more than…” you trail off, looking down at your hands.
“Twenty-two million dollars. This room alone,” Frank finishes.
You swear, stepping forwards to skim your fingers along a chromed side mirror, then bending down to check your reflection. “So what are we looking for again?”
Frank sets his duffel bag down onto the reception desk, careful not to disturb the fanned business cards adorning the surface. “Guns, coke, contraband,” he lists. “Whatever we can find.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” Frank asks, bewildered. His attention snaps to you.
“Is there a car in particular we’re looking for?”
“Honestly sweetheart, I dunno. If we gotta sweep every single one, that’s what we gotta do.”
You push up off your knees, weaving in and out of the cars. “Before the auction, yeah?”
“S’right,” he grunts, pulling out a silver crowbar. “Smart girl.”
Ignoring the heat now searing your face, you focus on trying to name the cars, although you really only recognise a few of them.
Your eyes warily glaze over a black 1962 Chevrolet Corvette, its headlights polished to perfection. Next to it there are a number of vintage Ferraris, one Aston Martin, and a newer model Rolls Royce in the corner.
But one car in particular snags your eye, knocking the breath from you.
Frank whistles. “She’s pretty.”
You shoot him an incredulous glare, slightly offended he’d say that about the car and not you.
He’s not wrong, though.
It’s an old Mercedes. A 1961 Roadster, you think, marvelling at the almost pearlescent ivory paint restoration, the perfectly polished hubcaps, and the smooth leather interior of the deepest cherry red. You’re transfixed as you hear the engine in your mind, the revving beneath your feet, feeling the phantom breeze ruffling your hair as you speed down the highway with no destination in mind.
“You know what I think?” Frank says, clearing his throat, but you’re caught in your fever dream, music blaring from a shut-off radio that’s only active in your head. “I think…” he trails off, voice dropping to a bare whisper.
You whirl around as a loud clang drags you back to the present, one of the gleaming Mercedes-Benz hubcaps laying flat on the ground.
“What the hell, Frank?” you glower, eyes widening.
He responds with a grunt as he moves to the driver’s side, leaning his bodyweight into the crowbar as the next hubcap pops off.
Your hands fly to your face as he continues to move around the car, vandalising it beyond—
Oh.
The corners of Frank’s mouth curl into a wry smirk. “Fuckin’ knew it.”
He motions for you to come over, using his crowbar to pry out several small, duct-tape-wrapped packages from inside the wheel. “Dumbest fuckin’ hiding place I’ve ever seen.”
He pats the passenger door. “Gotta give it to ‘em, though. Moving drugs through cars at an auction? It’s a Ponzi scheme, but a goddamn good one.”
“This what I think it is?” you ask, crouching down next to him, irresolutely turning one of the bricks over.
He nods, pulling a knife tucked into his boot before sticking it into one of the packages. He dips his hand into the opening, rubbing what looks to be a white powder in between his fingers.
“Time to call Madani,” he grits, placing the brick back on the ground. “Could you do that f’me, sweetheart?”
Biting your lip, you pull out your phone to dial Madani’s number, wincing as Frank digs out the rest of the cocaine from your beloved Roadster. In eager anticipation, she picks up after the first ring, and the drop is arranged for 2.30 AM.
That leaves you thirty minutes to spare.
“So, Frank,” you remark, tucking your phone back in your pocket, “do we need to check any of the other cars?”
He sets the crowbar on the ground, getting up to lean against the front passenger side door. “Nah,” he replies, folding his arms across his chest, “FBI’s problem now.”
The growing smile on your face turns suggestive. “Guess we have time to kill before they show up, hm?”
Frank cocks his head. “And what’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?”
You stride towards him, reaching out your hands to uncross his arms so they lay straight at his sides. Trailing the tip of your index finger up his chest, you circle the outline of his mouth. It catches on his bottom lip as you drag it back down, and he shudders at the lightness of your touch.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, big boy?” you grin.
He moves off the car, rolling his eyes as you saunter to the driver’s side, brows furrowing as you go to unlatch the door. The red leather is cool beneath you as you slide in, hands instinctively going to grip the wheel. Imagining the engine roaring to life, you press your foot down on the accelerator, as far as it’ll go.
“You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” Frank chuckles, running a hand through his hair.
“Maybe,” you muse, aware of the mischievous glint in your eyes. “If that’s something you want.”
“You haven’t had any of the white stuff, have ‘ya? ‘Cause you’re sure acting like it.”
“Dick,” you swear. “We’re surrounded by nice cars, Frank. How do you expect me to behave?” Taking your hands off the wheel, you twist in your seat to face him. “Surely they’d have the keys here somewhere, right?”
He scoffs. “Yeah, like they’d keep the keys to a four hundred thousand dollar car here.”
“Awww,” you pout, “but I wanna go for a ride.”
Frank’s ears perk up. “S’that so?”
You lean back against the seat, running your tongue over your lips. “In this car.”
“What, and you think I can help with that?”
You bat your eyes at him. “Don’t get too flattered, but I think you’re the only person in the world who can help with that right now.”
“Right now?” he shoots back. “Just right now, huh?”
“Shut up and get over here before I rescind my request, Castle.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move that fast, because he climbs into the passenger side, scrambling to get you on his lap.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, hands finding your waist, guiding you back and forth over his hardening cock. His breath fans your neck as he nips at your pulse, spreading his legs apart on the seat.
You tip your chin downwards, your lips messily crashing into his, his mouth—his body—warm and supple against yours. He shifts his hips, slotting himself between your thighs and into the one place you need him most. At this rate, the friction of your clothing is almost too much to bear, but you’ve always been one to toe the line between pain and pleasure.
Especially when Frank’s involved.
Your body clenches as he palms your clit, groaning your name into your skin, etching kisses along the curve of your jaw. He skirts the hem of your top, slipping his tongue into your mouth before lifting it over your head, leaving it in a scandalous pile on the driver’s side.
“Naughty girl,” he laughs dryly, adding your bra to the pile along with his own shirt. “Tell me this isn’t what you thought of first when you saw the car.” He stiffens as you catch his bottom lip with your teeth.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying it,” you croon, the jovial note of your amusement diffusing itself into the vast space of the dealership. Your fingers roam along the plane of his stomach, feeling his abs contort underneath your touch. “Pretty boy.”
Resting his hands on either side of your spine, Frank swipes his thumbs over your nipples, intently staring as you throw your head back, rolling your hips into his. You squeeze your thighs into his sides as he seals his mouth over one of your breasts, flicking his tongue over the pebbled flesh.
“Bruise—“ he groans, his voice caught in a hoarse whisper. Oh, right, you remember, looking down at the purple splotch stretching across the ribs on his right side.
But you don’t let up, not when he’s driving you mad and touching you like this. You dig your knee into the bruise lightly, waiting for his body to seize, for his panting to echo before putting it back down on the seat.
“You’re a fuckin’— animal—“
Something compels you to do it again, but he slaps your leg away, retaliating by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You cry out his name, the echo of it thundering in your ears.
“Dick,” you gasp, slamming your palms into his chest. You gripe at the fact that he loses himself in a quiet sort of laughter, and that he’s all chiseled muscle and not putty in your hands.
“You insulting me or s’that what you want?”
The mirthful gleam in his eyes flicker as he looks you up and down, waiting for your next move.
“Fine,” you say, a little too scornful considering the situation you’ve found yourself in, moving to undo his belt. Pausing once to take your own pants off, your fingers move deftly to unbutton his jeans before you tug them down and off his legs. Not taking your gaze off of him, you brace one hand on his shoulder while the other slowly creeps up his thigh.
Frank squirms beneath you, his lips pressing into a thin line as you cup his balls. Your breathing turns shallow as you wrap your hand around his shaft, running your thumb over the precum glistening on the head of his cock.
“Fuckin’— shit—,“ he hisses as you squeeze him. You hinge forward to nip his earlobe, to whisper filthy nothings in his ear, but he bucks his hips upwards, almost reflexively.
And that is something too good to pass up.
“Feel good, Frankie?” you ask, moving to stroke him up and down, ensuring your pace is just shy of what he likes on himself.
“Mm—“
“I think this’ll feel better,” you interject, pausing to spit on his cock.
Frank’s mouth parts in a wide groan at the added lubrication, and the way you’ve so brazenly spat on him, narrowly missing the priceless cherry red leather. Not that having sex in this car isn’t already brazen to begin with.
Clambering back onto his lap, you nudge his cock into your opening, coating him in the slick of your arousal. You press your face against his cheek as he pushes himself inside you, moaning into his mouth at the sensation of his thick head stretching you out. It burns, but it burns so fucking good.
He grits his teeth as he eases you down on him, guiding you inch-by-inch until you're so full you can barely breathe, your core tightening to the point where you wonder if he can feel pleasure at all.
He reminds you that yes, in fact he can, because he's cursing under his breath, gripping the dashboard so goddamn hard you think he might leave half-moon marks in the shape of his nails. He jerks his hips into yours, driving himself so deep you see stars for a second, whispering into the trance of your intimacy that you're his girl and that you feel so fuckin' tight he might burst at any given moment.
Now accommodated to his size, you fling your arms around his neck as you begin to move, resting your forehead against his. You roll your hips in languid, circular motions, fingers curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck.
"God fucking damn, Frank," you whimper, switching to bounce on his lap, holding onto the top of the seat for extra support. He sends you into a catatonic state of delirium as his thick cock hits deeper in this position, and soon you're squeezing around him, crying his name and falling over the edge of satisfaction.
Frank buries his face in your tits as you collapse onto his chest, your body still moving to the rhythm pounding inside your head.
"Hey, hey sweetheart," he says gently, moving to caress your jaw. "You okay?"
You flash him a weak smile, holding out a thumbs-up. "Keep going, Frank. M'not done yet."
"You sure?"
Raising your hips only to slam them back down on his seems to give him the reassurance he's seeking. Thrill shoots up your spine as he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist.
His tone is nothing short of wicked. "I do as I'm told, yeah?"
He drills himself into you, setting a ruthless pace, mouth roving over every accessible inch of bare skin. You thank every god you can think of for making this place soundproof, because the two of you would be so incredibly dead if anyone could hear the sounds coming from your mouth.
You fall apart on his cock more times than you can count, burying your face in his neck as Frank's thrusts become more erratic and sloppy, his strokes faltering with every passing second.
"M'gonna cum for you," he groans, throwing his head back against the seat and lurching his arm towards the top of the windscreen. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone as his hips stutter, spilling every last drop inside you.
"Fuck," he whispers, his cock twitching as you finally muster the energy to get off of him. He looks down at himself, horrified, and you follow his eye line to the mess on the seat between his thighs.
You choke, caught between a laugh and a gasp, equally panicking at how you're going to clean it up and possibly more importantly, how Madani isn't going to figure out what you've just done.
"Guess we can call this hard evidence for the FBI?" you sputter, trying your best to swallow your growing smirk.
Frank's cheeks turn red as he blows out a breath. "S'alright. This belonged to an asshole and it was gonna be bought by an even bigger one." He shrugs. "If I can't put 'em down, this is the least they owe me."
"You know Frankie, sometimes your logic is flawed, but I think you're right on this one."
He goes to smack your ass, but as you pull your panties on, your phone lights up in the footwell of the car, its shrill ringtone deafening to your ears.
MADANI
You glance at Frank, a humorous expression dancing across your face. "Good timing, huh?"
"Ain't that right."
Tumblr media
tags {x} for all my frank girlies!!! <3 (I'M SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEONE I'M SO NOT OK RIGHT NOW)
@marvelswh0re @murdock-and-the-sea @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass @reborn-rekall @castlesnchurches @chellestrash @darlingshane @chvoswxtch @stress--relief @pedrito-friskito
Tumblr media
713 notes · View notes
comradekatara · 8 months
Note
Hi, hope you're well.
What type of vehicle (non-motor options also welcome) would the gaang + others own/use? But also which vehicle would they like to have (so like a dream vehicle)
aang: one of those kids who bikes everywhere like he’s in an 80s movie. he’d probably get some kind of eco-friendly electric car. or he’d find a way to paraglide everywhere idk
katara: ideologically opposed to cars, exclusively takes public transport (or just straight up walks, or if she’s really desperate, makes sokka drive her), but it is a secret dream of hers to have a really cool badass motorcycle, even though she is fully aware of how dangerous they are (or at least, so she claims). fwiw jet and haru both ride motorcycles; jet’s is really loud fuckoff motorcycle, whereas haru’s is more like a cute little green moped
sokka: he can drive, but because it’s his family’s car, he only drives it when absolutely necessary, bc the thought of getting a single scratch on it and disappointing gran gran, his absent father, or even his mother’s ghost, is a thought too nerve-wracking to bear. his dream vehicle is an efficient nationwide high speed rail. his slightly more realistic dream vehicle is that car from james bond (yes i know it’s an aston martin im talking specifically about the aston martin from the bond films that q modifies in various ways don’t @ me)
toph: her family probably has a chauffeur. she obviously cannot drive, nor does she care about breeds of cars. she’d like driving in a fast convertible though for the feeling of the wind in her hair
zuko: also grew up with a chauffer. never learned how to drive bc he has no depth perception. which is a very good thing because his road rage would be atrocious. his dream vehicle is probably a beautiful dappled grey horse.
suki: she drives/lives in her pickup truck. she wishes she drove/lived in a slightly bigger pickup truck, or perhaps a red ferrari
mai: she was born to ride the new york city subway. she loves to hop the turnstile even though she can afford it, but it’s not about that. it’s about the principle ($2.90 is simply appalling), and most importantly, it’s about the thrill of it. however, i do think she’d enjoy driving too, if only because she loves fingerless leather gloves. she doesn’t really need a car to wear that though.
ty lee: she’s a very sensible driver. she’s never gotten a ticket but if she did she would get out of it masterfully. her dream car is that toy pink convertible barbie drives in the barbie movie.
azula: never learns how to drive because she never needs to learn: she does not drive, she is driven. she doesn’t care what kind of car she’s being driven in, as long as it’s noticeably expensive. one time mai makes her ride the subway with her and she is scared out of her mind. she expresses that fear through loud disgust
176 notes · View notes
waltwhitmansbeard · 6 months
Text
this is literally all i could think about on my drive to work today so i present to you
what cars would vox machina drive?
keyleth: you know she's a subaru girlie, olive green and dented (bc lbr keyleth would not be the best driver) and covered in just ALLLL the bumper stickers, for state parks and liberal politicians from like two decades ago and charities she doesn't even remember donating to (she has three different "who saved who?" bumper stickers and she doesn't know how she got any of them). there's a rattle that starts whenever she gets over 40 mph but she's choosing to ignore it.
percy: this is an old money bitch so you know he has a bunch of cars, mercedes and aston martins and bentleys, but i think his go-to is a brick of a rolls royce, dark gray bc black is too obvious
vax: an olllllllld black thunderbird that is absolutely falling apart, just a complete hazard to have on the roads, but vax pours any excess dollar he has into keeping the piece of shit running bc he loves it so much
vex: a sensible, clean honda civic sport (blue) that has every single bell and whistle offered but that she negotiated down to $10k below the sticker price. she will drive this thing into the fucking ground before she gets a new one. the back seat has a special protector/sling thing for trinket.
pike: just the most absolute unit of a gargantuan pick-up truck you can imagine. something that no self-respecting construction professional would even drive, just so fucking mammoth that the TIRES are taller than pike. she has special electric stairs that descend so she can get in. she has this because a) she is a monster and she deserves it and b)
grog failed his driver's test (both written and practical) six times before just giving up, so he just goes wherever pike goes
scanlan: a tricked-out cadillac he had specially painted the most gnarly shade of purple with sparkling gold rims and LED lights along the undercarriage that are linked to his illegal stereo that he is always bumping way too loud with the windows down. just a fucking pimpmobile of a vehicle. leather seats that you do NOT want to look at under a black light and special hidden compartments for the contraband he insists he has but absolutely does not.
tary: this twunk drives a gold porsche 911, and he hates giving his friends rides when they need one but when he does, he makes them take their shoes off. do NOT ask him for the aux, it is a waste of your time. he is an insanely reckless driver, and once he finally wrecks the porsche for good, he's shocked to learn how much they cost (this one was a gift), so vex drags him kicking and screaming to honda to get him a civic of his own (not as nice as hers bc without daddy's money he definitely can't afford it).
80 notes · View notes
onboardsorasora · 9 months
Text
I wrote it @arturleclerc and @123pixieaod! A cute lil kid fic. Sequel to this my first ever f1rpf drabble, and based on this adorable party. (I hope it's good 🫣)
Edit: we now have a continuation here
Daniel wouldn't say he was overwhelmed but it was a near thing. Overwhelmed with so much happiness. He stood in the middle of his and Max's living room looking around to make sure the decorations were perfect.
Of course, everyone knew the first birthday party was for the parents and not the child. And maybe he and Max had been more than a little self indulgent when they agreed on the Formula 1 theme.
Of course, all of the ready made decorations were in red and even suggesting that to Max had been tantamount to treason. So, they had designed everything themselves. Between the both of them they were; creative, detail oriented and anal retentive.
Max designed the cake and wall decor and Daniel tackled the birthday boys outfits, the photo backdrops and the floor decor. Then they'd sent them off to their party planner and waited.
Daniel had to admit, it had been a lot of work– lots of phone calls and organizing and dates– but everything came together beautifully. While Red Bull wasn't the actual theme, no one could even suggest that this was a Ferrari themed party.
Noah was currently cooing in his Papa's arms, banging a rubber duck – gifted by his uncle Carlos– on Max's shoulder. He was delighting in the short squeaks. Max held him sturdily, glancing over with a smile when Noah offered the duck to him.
Daniel thought Noah looked adorable in his mini race suit that closely matched the race suit his parents wore back in 2017, the deep navy with the bright red racing stripe on the side.
He was a chunky pale thing with blue eyes and blonde hair; all Max and barely any Daniel. If he hadn't carried him and went through nine hours of labour, Daniel would have thought that he was Max's clone. (His short blonde hair was finally showing maybe the possibility of a curl or wave and Daniel couldn't be happier).
"Everything looks amazing, Danny. You did well." Sebastian offered him a beer, clinking their bottles together.
"Thank you. It was a lot." Daniel laughed, side-stepping Isaac, his nephew, who was chasing another friend in the matching electric bumper cars that looked like an Aston Martin DBS and Honda NSX.
"Noah seems to be enjoying himself."
Daniel snorted, "oh that duck is his new best friend. I'm not even mad because before, it was one of the protein shaker bottles."
"Daniel! Where is my beloved nephew?" Charles entered the room with a flourish. He deposited his gift bags in a seemingly safe corner and beelined for Max who turned from his conversation with Lando and Carlos. Charles only had eyes for Noah, altering his voice and making faces to get the toddler to giggle.
Noah acquiesced to being held by one of his uncles and Max begrudgingly let him go. Charles immediately walked to one of the photo backdrops, the one proclaiming Noah the future F1 Champ and demanded photos be taken of them. Lando rolled his eyes but soon was taken in by his unofficial duties as photographer.
"Uncle Daniel look! I have tattoos like you now!" Isabella ran up to the pair, showing off her arm that now sported multiple racing themed temporary tattoos. Daniel crouched to her level with a wide Ricciardo grin, his eyes squinting with his happiness.
"We match!" He said excitedly, pressing his larger forearm against her tinier one. Kissing her racecar with his Love. She squealed in happiness, kissed his cheek and ran off to play with the other children running amok in the den.
Max came over and flung his arm around Daniel's waist and it was then that Seb saw the matching tshirts. 'Dad of Champ' 'Papa of Champ'. Max's smile could only be described as proud.
The chaos continued with a car race around a 'track' set up in the den and extended to the patio and back. Issac won the first race, a little girl named Brin won the second and Isabella won the third. The trophy ceremonies were the stuff of dreams; Daniel and Carlos taught the kids to spray the sparkling grape juice like winners. Charles snuggled comfortably with Noah, pointing out all festivities with adorable commentary.
When it was time to cut the cake, Noah 'drove' to the table in his DBS that had his name on it. He squealed happily when Daniel scooped him up and kissed his chubby cheeks. He reached for the cake before anyone could stop him and the group laughed and sung happy birthday while he happily munched on cake and blue icing.
Max leaned over to kiss Noah's stained cheek and Daniel felt like his heart was bursting out of his chest. Yeah, he was officially overwhelmed and life was good.
104 notes · View notes
race-week · 5 months
Text
Teams Purchasing Components
There is a list of car parts that teams can purchase from other manufacturers as a way to keep development costs down, this can be beneficial for smaller teams but it also has the disadvantage of using parts that aren’t designed for your specific car.
There are at least 4 teams who purchase multiple components from other manufacturers, they are Haas from Ferrari, AlphaTauri from Red Bull and Aston Martin and Williams from Mercedes.
The full list of TRCs is
Rear impact structure
Gearbox
Clutch
Front suspension
Rear suspension
Power-assisted steering
Some fuel system components
Hydraulic pump and sensors
Power unit mountings
Exhaust system
Electrical looms
Williams purchase the fewest components out of the mentioned teams, they use the Mercedes Gearboxes and hydraulics.
Aston Martin essentially purchase the whole rear of the car from Mercedes, the gearbox, rear suspension, hydraulics, exhaust.
Haas purchase all of the TRCs from Ferrari
AlphaTauri will also be purchasing multiple TRCs from Red Bull this year.
The purchased parts do not need to be the current spec, for example Haas could be purchasing 2022 spec parts from Ferrari rather than the 2024 spec parts, if they wanted to save money.
These purchases do fall under the cost cap.
41 notes · View notes
loptrcoptr · 4 months
Text
God I wish I could draw super well and super quickly because my brain yelled about street racer au blue eye samurai garbage on my way home today and I just wish I could draw carssss
I mean come on though. Please picture douchebag street racer Taigen and his fuckboi electric green suped up Ferrari or some fuckery having to race Mizu in her custom 1979 navy blue impala with white racing stripes that she rebuilt from the ground up herself (and all the grease monkeys are jealous as hell) and Taigen brings his hot gf Akemi along to wave the checkered flag while every car bro, garage gremlin and hotrod babe with 100 miles turns out for this very illegal 3 am drag race with bets flying every which way, and the stakes for Mizu and Taigen are idk, winner gets the loser’s car. And eternal bragging rights and street cred, obv. And Akemi maybe eggs Taigen on way too much in this rivalry shitshow and thinks it’s so much fun (in a rebellious princess-escaped-the-tower kind of way) that after Mizu epically hoses Taigen in this race in front of god, everyone, several state troopers, and every road rat in the area, Akemi adds further fuel to Taigen’s manpain-fire by paying Mizu to work on her car, which Akemi wants to race, but no one will race her because it’s a 1963 Aston goddamn Martin or something and no one could afford to so much as fix a scratch on that thing if they got into a fender bender with her…
Anyway I just need Mizu in a sports bra and a mechanic’s jumpsuit with the sleeves tied up at her waist, and Taigen in the bougiest black ripped jeans too tight tshirt undercut with man bun getup you’ve ever seen, and Akemi in low rise jeans and a 2005 red bandana-print tube top, sitting on the hood of a convertible.
A convertible which I am fundamentally unable to draw. I find this tragic lmao. If I take a break from my main fic to write anything else, I’m worried I’ll lose momentum… but maybe I can write a little tiny oneshot AU on the side for myself. As a treat.
26 notes · View notes
aimeedaisies · 10 months
Note
What cars does Anne and Tim own
They have owned several different cars throughout the years! 🚘
Most famously Anne has owned a Reliant Scimitar from 1971, with a private reg. 1420 refers to her to her position as Colonel-in-Chief of the Royal 14/20th Hussars!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In the nineties (and probably for years before that) Tim drove a mustard colour MG sports car, that might have looked something like this (it’s so tiny and he’s so tall how did he fit?)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
They’ve owned various Rangerovers and Landrovers throughout their marriage and Anne did even before they met! (Being farmers it’s the norm to have them to move things around the farm I suppose)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I don’t think they have one but Tim was seen driving a very snazzy Aston Martin sportscar at Sandringham with Anne’s cousin David in January 2022 (taking it out for a spin!)
Tumblr media
Then they have the royal Bentleys, which they get taken to engagements in, I think the newest is an electric one, we stan! (The heart eyes 😭)
Tumblr media
71 notes · View notes
Text
007 FEST 2023 / Fix-It Day
[The greatest fix-it experts lie within the @00qad-fandom. There is nothing we have not endured and subsequently fixed. Forever.]
A FIX-IT DAY COLLAB BROUGHT TO YOU BY @kitten-kin of @teamqbranch and @a-forger-and-a-point-man of @teamofvillains!
Tumblr media
Every year after the buzz and the noise and the packed calendars of Pride Month and 007 Fest are behind them, the 00QAD family pack up the cars for the 10-hour drive up to the Scottish Highlands to Skyfall, where they spend August keeping Kincade company and getting some fresh air.
James loves driving all the way in his highly prized Aston Martin DB5, and Danny joins him for the intimate (read: cramped) ride. It's very special for Danny because he's never really had nice things - and James treats him like a star.
This naturally means that the more grounded and practical gentlemen in the family - Q and Alex - take a more sensible vehicle that fits luggage and two cats on leashes and their litter box. It's a lot safer to have two cars for the journey anyway.
When they pull up to Skyfall, Kincade's doggos run up in excitement to the familiar faces, but they're immediately put in their place by @princesspampuria who scares the SHIT out of these fierce hunting companions. The boss lady has arrived.
Pam loves the August vacation because she can hunt sheep and deer, and yes, she does it alone, and no, not always for food. Possibly just blood thirst and sport.
Kincade always has the finest Scottish salmon prepared for his little princess. Despite James' best efforts, Kincade is as in love with Pam as Q is.
It has taken a few years for James and Kincade to reconnect - or even reconcile, in many ways - and get to the place they're in now. James isn't used to genuine, older, wiser, paternal mentorship. But no matter how old he gets, he sure as hell needs it, and the boys are keenly aware of that.
Kincade knows what they all do now. He doesn't ask too many questions, but he allows them the space to let things out when they need to. He loves them like his own children and grandchildren, and this is what James must get used to: a natural, unconditional, familial love that isn't tied to what he does or where he's been. It's just there.
This yearly visit to Skyfall is also critical for James to reflect on where he came from, and spend time at his parents' gravesite. When a man knows his roots and understands that he was always loved, it changes him.
All that said, Kincade's favorite humans are actually Danny and Alex. Danny and Kincade send each other care packages throughout the year, and Danny is such a wonderful listener to the lifetime of stories Kincade always shares around the fire.
Turing always joins them, laying across Kincade's lap. Turing was officially given to Alex by Q to be his therapy cat, so Turing recharges in these settings.
Alex is also a good listener, but he knows to take advantage of what Kincade can teach him in the time they have together. They are both very outdoorsy people, and Kincade has taught Alex hunting, fishing, archery, and the cooking of certain animal parts. Alex is game to try out new things.
Q and Kincade have a warm and cordial relationship, but Q lives in his own head a lot, and he's not exactly fond of lacing up his hiking boots for a sunrise trek. So he'll spend. lot of time doing maintenance on Skyfall's security system, broadband connectivity, and electrical supply.
You're wondering what Kincade thinks of their relationship. And that's a very valid question. He thinks they're all well-raised gentlemen and he wouldn't trade them for the universe, and that helps tremendously in accepting that his little James - that jumped up shit - has become a man with not just an unconventional job, but an unconventional family life. They're all happy, and that makes Kincade happy, and Danny teaches him about queer culture and how to celebrate Pride at Skyfall. Kincade still affectionately calls the community "the gays" and tells his mates down at the pub that all of his sons have delivered him sons-in-law.
A great amount of time is spent in the kitchen on making three meals a day and eating together at the table. There's hearty haddock soup and tattie scones and plenty of "stovies" after their big Sunday roast. The twins' sweet tooth (Q & Danny) means Kincade always has plenty of ingredients to make his famous Cranachan every week.
Danny and Turing bake pawprint shortbread to leave as a parting gift for Kincade, and the boys all make sure they've cleaned up and done the laundry and are leaving the house in better shape than they found it.
Goodbyes are never easy, and Danny cries, and Pam cries too then screams bloody murder and refuses to let go of Kincade. An ice box filled with wild Scottish salmon for the ride helps a little bit. After a month, even the doggos are sad to see the boss lady go.
James never ever shows that he's getting emotional, but in the car, alone with Danny, he lets out the breath he's been holding, and confesses that the trip was the best time of his life - until next year.
42 notes · View notes
pinkflower2003 · 12 days
Text
I Remember It All Too Well
Fernando Alonso x ex!Reader
All Too Well Series Masterlist
Words: 1.8k
Send your submissions, requests, thoughts🍓
a/n: i think i’m gonna be making this into a series! where its then Fernando finding happiness in having family and everyone finding out and things like that! I think i’ll make a masterlist and do some SMAU’s for it!
Tumblr media
The soft hum of the city outside filtered through the large windows of Y/N's penthouse apartment. She sat at the kitchen island, sipping her morning coffee and skimming through her emails. Her twins, Georgia and AJ, had just come back from their morning jog, their banter and sarcastic arguments filling the space with lively energy.
"Mum, have you thought about the invite from Red Bull?" Georgia asked, flopping down onto a barstool. Her auburn hair fell in waves over her shoulder. "They're offering VIP passes for the upcoming F1 race."
Y/N glanced at the email in question. As a well-known actress and philanthropist, she received countless invites to high-profile events. She had been avoiding the F1 scene for years, ever since her past relationship with Fernando Alonso had ended so abruptly. She still remembered the day he had walked out, leaving her with no way to tell him she was pregnant. Since then, her focus had been on raising her children and her career, steering clear of anything that might bring her face-to-face with him.
"I don't know, G," Y/N replied, trying to hide her reluctance. "We've got a lot going on with your brothers games and your school. Maybe it's not the best time."
"Come on, Mum," AJ interjected, his enthusiasm infectious. He was the spitting image of his father, down to the mischievous glint in his eyes. "It's F1! And it's not just any race, it's Monaco. How can we miss that?"
Georgia nudged her brother playfully. "Plus, you know how much AJ loves racing. It'll be fun, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity!"
Y/N sighed, knowing she was outnumbered. Her children had inherited her stubbornness. "Alright, alright. We'll go. But remember, it's just for the weekend."
The twins cheered, and Y/N couldn't help but smile at their excitement. She just hoped the past wouldn't come crashing into the present.
The Monaco Grand Prix was a dazzling affair. The glitz and glamour of the event were almost overwhelming, with celebrities, royalty, and the world's elite milling about. Y/N arrived with Georgia and AJ, the latter practically vibrating with excitement. Red Bull had spared no expense, ensuring their VIP guests had the best seats and access to exclusive areas.
As they walked through the paddock, Y/N kept her sunglasses on, hoping to avoid recognition. The twins were too engrossed in their surroundings to notice her unease. They marveled at the sleek cars, the bustling teams, and the electric atmosphere.
"Mum, look!" AJ pointed towards the Aston Martin garage. "It's the Aston Martin car!"
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her ex's team. She forced a smile. "Yes, that's right."
"Can we go closer?" Georgia asked, her curiosity piqued, trying to sneakily get closer to the expensive car.
Before Y/N could respond, a familiar voice cut through the crowd. "Y/N? Is that you?"
She turned to see Christian Horner, Red Bull's team principal, approaching with a welcoming smile. "Christian, hi," she greeted him, hoping to keep the conversation brief.
"It's great to see you here," he said, shaking her hand. "And who are these two?"
"These are my kids, Georgia and AJ," Y/N introduced them. "They're big F1 fans."
"Nice to meet you both," Christian said, shaking their hands. "Enjoying the race?"
"Absolutely!" AJ said, his eyes wide with excitement.
Christian smiled. "Fantastic. Make sure you get the full experience. If you need anything, just let me know."
As Christian walked away, Y/N took a deep breath. They had managed to avoid Fernando for now, but the paddock was only so big.
The race was exhilarating. AJ and Georgia were on the edge of their seats, cheering for their favorite drivers, wearing their F1 merch. Y/N couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement, despite her initial reservations. It was a world she had once been a part of, and the thrill of it all came rushing back.
After the race, the paddock was buzzing with activity. Georgia and AJ wanted to explore more, and Y/N, not wanting to dampen their spirits, agreed to let them wander while she stayed back, hoping to avoid any further encounters.
As she stood by the Red Bull hospitality area, sipping on a glass of water, she heard a voice she hadn't heard in years.
"Y/N."
She turned slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. There he was. Fernando Alonso. He looked almost the same, maybe a bit more mature, but still with that same intense gaze that had once captivated her.
"Fernando," she said, keeping her voice steady. "It's been a long time."
"It has," he replied, his eyes searching her face. "You look well."
"Thank you. So do you," she responded politely.
There was an awkward silence before Fernando spoke again. "I didn't know you'd be here. Are you still involved in the sport?"
"No, just here with my kids. They wanted to see a race," she said, hoping to end the conversation quickly.
"Kids?" Fernando seemed genuinely surprised. "I didn't know you had children. Are you married now?"
Y/N forced a smile. "No, not married, and yes, twins. Georgia and AJ."
Fernando looked like he was about to say something else when Georgia and AJ came bounding over, their excitement palpable.
"Mum, you have to see—" AJ's words trailed off as he noticed Fernando. "Oh shit. You're Fernando Alonso." Y/N slapped her son on the back of the head, scolding him for swearing.
Fernando smiled at the boy. "Yes, I am. And you must be AJ."
"How did you know?" AJ asked, wide-eyed.
Fernando glanced at Y/N, who avoided his gaze. "Your mother told me."
Georgia, ever perceptive, looked between her mother and Fernando, a knowing look in her eyes. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Alonso."
"The pleasure is mine," Fernando said, his eyes lingering on Y/N. "I should get going. It was nice seeing you, Y/N."
"You too, Fernando," she replied, relieved as he walked away.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Georgia turned to her mother. "Mom, was that really Fernando Alonso? How do you know him?"
Y/N sighed, knowing this conversation was inevitable. "It's a long story."
-
As Fernando walked away from Y/N and her children, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his chest. The encounter had stirred memories and emotions he thought he had long buried. The vibrant eyes of the twins, so familiar yet so new, lingered in his mind. He made his way through the bustling paddock, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.
Once he reached the relative quiet of the Aston Martin hospitality suite, Fernando sat down and pulled out his phone. He hesitated for a moment, then opened Instagram. He hadn't checked Y/N's profile in years, trying to keep the past firmly behind him. But now, curiosity and a sense of something more urgent pushed him to search for her name.
Y/N's profile appeared, filled with a mix of glamorous shots from her career and candid moments of her personal life. He scrolled through the images, his heart aching with each picture. There she was, smiling and happy, living a life that he had once imagined sharing with her.
Then he saw them. Georgia and AJ. From their earliest baby pictures to recent photos of them as teenagers. He clicked on a photo of the twins from a few years ago, their faces smeared with birthday cake, their smiles wide and joyful. Another photo showed them at a rugby match, AJ proudly holding a trophy while Georgia cheered beside him.
As he continued to scroll, he did the math in his head. The twins were seventeen. He counted back the years, realizing with a shock that they must have been born shortly after he and Y/N had ended their relationship. His mind raced, piecing together the timeline. It couldn't be a coincidence.
Fernando's breath caught as he clicked on a recent post. It was a picture of the twins, now almost adults, with a caption that read, "My heart and soul, Georgia and AJ, my greatest blessings."
Tumblr media
He stared at the screen, the implications sinking in. Georgia's auburn hair, AJ's mischievous grin—traits he recognized all too well. A surge of emotions welled up within him: disbelief, confusion, and a growing sense of anger and betrayal. How had Y/N kept this from him? How had he not known?
Determined to get answers, Fernando stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair. He had to speak to Y/N again. He had to know the truth. He made his way back through the paddock, his heart pounding with every step, hoping she was still there.
Spotting Y/N and the twins near the Red Bull hospitality area, he approached them, his expression a mix of hurt and determination.
"Y/N," he called out, his voice firmer than before.
She turned, surprised to see him again. "Fernando?"
He took a deep breath, glancing at Georgia and AJ before focusing on Y/N. "Can we talk?"
Y/N's eyes widened, understanding the seriousness of his tone. She nodded slowly, looking at her children. "Georgia, AJ, can you give us a moment?"
The twins exchanged a worried glance with AJ becoming slightly protective over his mum but nodded, stepping away to give them some privacy and going outside.
Fernando waited until they were out of earshot before speaking. "Are they mine?" His voice was a mix of hope and fear.
Y/N looked down, her expression pained. "Fernando, it's complicated."
"It's a simple question, Y/N," he insisted, his frustration evident. "Are they my children?"
She met his gaze, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I can't tell you that, Fernando. I have to protect them. Their lives have been good and stable. I don't want to disrupt that."
Fernando's anger faltered at the sight of her tears. He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "I understand your need to protect them, but I need to know. I want to be part of their lives. They don't need to know I'm their father, not yet. Just let me get to know them."
Y/N bit her lip, contemplating his request. "Fernando, I... I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Please, Y/N," he pleaded, his voice softening. "Just give me a chance. I want to get to know them, to be there for them in any way I can. I missed out on 17 years."
Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes searching his. She saw the sincerity and the pain in his gaze, and she knew he deserved a chance. "Okay," she said finally. "We can start slow. They don't need to know everything right now. But you can get to know them."
As they called Georgia and AJ back, Fernando felt a mix of apprehension and hope. This was only the beginning, but he was determined to make the most of it. He would get to know his children, one step at a time.
382 notes · View notes