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#and lewis was like yeah thats good

holllandtrash · 1 year

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6 to 1 | lando norris (part 12)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 12 and final part to the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

it's the first race you attend with Lando, the first time tensions are high before the race can even start, the first time your fears turn into reality because of course, it can never be easy. or can it?

word count: 6.5k tags/warning: mention of the 2022 hungarian grand prix, a lot of anxiety, alluding to driver!injury i think thats it

The end of July brought you to Budapest for the Hungarian Grand Prix.

It was also the first time you attended a race weekend with the intention of showing up in the paddock with a driver other than Charles.

You spent most of Friday and Saturday in the McLaren motorhome, but now it was the race. You weren’t going to hide behind the safety of the black and orange walls. You were going to be there, in the garage, to show your support for Lando.

But you were not prepared for how extremely out of place you would feel.

You had never spent any time in any other team’s pit except for Pierre’s one time and even then it was because you lost a bet and had to wear Alpha Tauri merch for an entire weekend. You didn’t choose to be there.

You chose to show your support for Lando this weekend.

He wanted you there, of course, but you also wanted to be there.

You were standing in the booth at the rear of the garage when Lando approached you from the side, hand finding your back to give you a comforting touch before he reached for his balaclava.

There were still a few minutes before the cars had to be wheeled out to their starting positions. Lando wasn’t in any hurry to get into the cockpit, nor did he like putting himself in a position where he felt rushed or uneasy.

You, on the other hand, felt uneasy.

That wasn’t even the right word for it. You were stressed, anxious, paranoid, on edge, literally every single thing you shouldn’t be feeling before a race.

Lando sensed it. Maybe it was the way you didn’t lean into his touch like you normally would. Or maybe he caught the way your smile was forced on his behalf, to make it seem like you were okay. Whatever it was, Lando knew you. In a very short period of time, he knew how to recognise what you were feeling.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly, discarding the white mask on top of the booth as he rested his arms on the surface. He clasped his hands together after dragging his fingers through his hair, but his worried eyes met yours. “You’re more scared about the race than I am.”

You were careful to keep your voice down. SkySports was standing just outside the garage with a camera and for some reason those mic’s picked up absolutely everything.

“Scared’s not the word I would use,” you spoke through a heavy inhale. You wished Lando’s loving gaze was enough to calm your nerves, but he wasn’t the only driver on the grid who had an affect on your emotions.

Lando nodded, “Feels a bit odd not standing in the Ferrari garage, yeah?”

“It just feels wrong,” you admitted. And then your hand went to cover his, eyes going wide when you realised the strength of your words, “I do want to be here, really. It’s just weird, is all. Like I should be there to talk to Charles before he puts his helmet on and tell him good luck- not saying that it’s a pre race ritual but in a way, it sort of is?” You huffed out an exasperated breath, hoping that what you were saying was making sense. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. It’s just weird that I’m at a race and I’ve said two words to Charles. Hi and bye.”

Lando turned his hands over to connect them with yours, giving your fingers a squeeze. He glanced down at his balaclava and then up at the screen where F1TV was playing. When the image changed from a close up on Lewis to one of Charles standing in the back of the garage, in a nearly identical spot to where you stood in McLaren, you both noticed the way Charles’ normally calm demeanour was replaced with one that, again, was nearly identical to yours.

“You know, I never really thought you two looked alike,” Lando muttered, but in this moment you could have been twins.

The agitation was clear on both of your faces. Eyes glossed over with guilt and uncertainty as neither of you knew what to say to the other but both finding your lack of presence in the garage to be way too noticeable and foreign for your own good.

Lando looked at you, nodding his head in the direction of the pit lane, “You should go there.”

“I want to be here,” you told him. You were certain about that.

“You don’t need to stay there,” Lando reminded you. He took a quick look at the screen. “There’s still a few minutes before either of us have to get in the cars. I’m sure he’d appreciate you telling him good luck.”

That thought had crossed your mind, just stopping by and returning back to McLaren. But if you did that, how would Charles take it? Would he see it as a pity pop-in? Would he think that would be your version of an apology? Even though you had absolutely nothing to apologise for. You didn’t know what would go through his head, but you could count on him somehow turning it around and blaming your quick hello as the catalyst if he were to have a poor race.

Lando sensed your hesitation and instead of trying to convince you further to go and say something to your brother, he gave you the opportunity to look at it from a different perspective.

“You know, maybe Charles is thinking the same thing?” He told you. “It’s probably just as weird for him knowing that you’re at the race but haven’t said anything. I’m not saying you have to apologise, you shouldn’t apologise, but-” he licked his lips, eyes darting up to the screen again. “If you’re the one who’s saying he shouldn’t bring his personal problems onto the track, don’t you think you should do the same?”

That thought hadn’t crossed your mind.

A sliver of a smile teased the corner of his lips. “You can be a supportive sister and still be mad at him. Just like you can be my girlfriend and his biggest fan. You’re not trapped in a box. None of us are.”

Your eyebrows raised, “Girlfriend? Did I miss-” you pointed at him and then around the general area. “-did I miss something? Did a grand gesture happen?”

Lando rolled his eyes, leaning forward to bump his elbow against your arm before he nodded towards the pit lane once more, “Go wish your brother good luck.”

You eventually gave in and nodded. Lando took the bright orange headset that rested around your neck and placed it on the booth, making sure to brush his thumb across your cheek as he did so. You agreed, no annoying acts of PDA in the paddock, but he couldn’t help but find any reason to touch you.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him and you grazed your hand across his back, another small but simple gesture to show that you also couldn’t keep your hands off him, before you used the rear doors to sneak out of the McLaren garage.

There were anxious butterflies in your stomach when you pulled on the door handle to Ferrari. The same last-minute chaos was present in the garage like usual, but it didn’t take long for you to find Charles, standing next to his car, chatting with Xavi.

Strangely enough, when he spotted you, it felt similarly wrong to be standing in that garage. Like you didn’t belong, and you had just experienced that same dilemma in McLaren. You hated that feeling, as though you didn’t belong anywhere.

But Charles didn’t ignore you. He didn’t turn back to you and leave you with that sinking feeling in your chest. He excused himself from Xavi and walked towards you, fiddling with the racing gloves in his hands.

“I just wanted to say good luck,” you blurted out, like ripping off a bandaid. You said it, now you could leave. And you started to, you stepped backwards, ready to head towards McLaren again.

Charles stopped you.

“Thank you,” he nodded, smiling a little. “You’re ah- you’re at McLaren?”

It was your turn to nod, “Yeah it’s less chaotic over there, believe it or not. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” When the end of your sentence flowed into soft laughter, Charles joined in, rubbing his lips to possibly try and hide that he found your words humorous.

You hated this, the awkward small talk with your own brother.

His demeanour shifted, his shoulders tensed as he inhaled a sharp breath. Whatever was on his mind, whatever he wanted to say, he had been sitting on it for a while. Maybe since you left dinner so abruptly.

And yes, you wanted to clear the air with your brother, but now was not the time to do it. Not when he was minutes away from climbing into the car. You both learned your lesson last time.

“I’ll see you after the race,” You told him, preventing him from opening the door to a new conversation. This was the moment when you had to separate your brother from the driver and right now, he was a driver.

Charles nodded as someone handed him his racing helmet. You wished him good luck once more and shared a smile before you made your way back to the McLaren garage, feeling much lighter now.

Lando noticed it, he noticed the lack of tension in your features as he reached for his helmet that was left on the booth. He gave you a thumbs up from across the garage and you reciprocated it before cupping your hand around your mouth and calling out a quick ‘good luck’ to him as well.

You were certainly feeling better going into the race, but it didn’t take long for the nerves to return.

As you watched the first few laps, you suddenly remembered why you gave yourself the no dating drivers rule. You were anxious enough as it was with your, somewhat, strained relationship with Charles, but as his sister, you still hoped for his success.

And now you were watching with caution every time Lando made a move as well. Everytime he locked up into a corner, every time he went in too deep, everytime his race was at risk.

You didn’t like the constant back and forth, wanting to keep up with what both Lando and Charles were doing at the same time, holding your breath for each of them, feeling twice the amount of stress build up to the point where you thought you needed to vomit.

It didn’t help when at lap six, there had already been a yellow flag brought out due to a minor incident involving Yuki, but now you were watching the lap 12 replay of Nyck de Vries spinning out into the barrier. At first, you thought he’d be able to reverse and get himself to the pits but when the red flags were called due to the damage to the front portion of his car and all the drivers started to return to the pits, you felt even more anxious.

There would have to be a restart.

Turn 1 at the Hungaroring stressed you out enough. You remembered the 2021 grand prix here when nearly six cars had to retire from an accident that took place at that first corner on the first lap. You thought that the drivers were all safe this time when no big moves were made and everyone made it through that corner without any damage.

Now they had to do it all over again. Elbows were going to be up this time, the drivers’ were undoubtedly going to make some risky, or dumb, moves.

The red flag brought all of the drivers out of their respective cars. Lando sent you a thumbs up from across the garage, but that was about all he could give you at this given time. His attention went towards the mini impromptu briefing in regards to how to go about the last three quarters of this race.

You tried to tell yourself that, as horrible as Nyck’s red flag was, maybe it was the one incident this race would have. How likely was it that something else would occur?

The twisting knot in your stomach told you not to get your hopes up.

You were watching the broadcast for a bit, trying to pass the time and not think about what could go wrong when you felt a hand on your waist.

“Be careful,” you said, eyes filled with worry as you turned towards Lando.

“Be careful?” he repeated with a chuckle, “It’s just a restart, everything’s fine. Car’s fine, I’m good, I just want to race.”

But you couldn’t explain it. Deep in your gut you just knew there was room for mistakes, that something was going to go wrong on this restart. These drivers were eager to get back in their cars and keep fighting and that’s when their margin of error grew.

“Just be careful,” you repeated, pressing your palm to the side of his face, thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek. Lando knew better than to make a joke at this moment, seeing how paranoid you were and he just nodded before he was ultimately called away.

That horrible gut feeling only grew when the drivers got back in their cars. You watched, holding your breath as they lined up in the starting positions, ready for the safety car to take them on a formulation lap.

When they were finally back on the grid, your heart was racing. Lando was starting from seventh. Charles in fourth. The red lights lit up one by one and then they were off.

Max got off beautifully, even you could admit that, but that was maybe the only positive thing to take away from this restart.

George nicked the back of Carlos’ car and sent him spinning. Lewis’ reaction time was fast and he avoided the Ferrari but he couldn’t avoid Checo who had locked up ahead of him right before turn one. Somehow, in this chaos, Lando managed to swerve to the side and narrowly miss the collisions.

The same couldn’t be said for Charles.

There wasn’t much he could do when the unfortunate series of events caused Checo to spin and block Charles’ Ferrari, colliding into the red side pod and sending car number 16 into the air before ultimately flipping upside down onto the gravel.

You watched with that painful, sinking feeling as Charles slid into the barriers. Very reminiscent of Zhou’s crash in Silverstone the previous year, but now it was your brother who found himself in this situation. Upside down in the cockpit.

And you had no idea if he was okay.

It wasn’t like you were wearing one of the Ferrari headsets and could listen to Xavi’s radio message, asking Charles to confirm he was okay. You were standing in the McLaren garage, hand over your mouth and had to wait like everyone else.

This was the moment you were referring to that night in Montreal. The moment when your world stopped.

You had to grip onto the booth, feeling your legs start to weaken beneath you. You just needed to know he was okay. For the love of god why hadn’t they broadcasted anything yet? Why hadn’t they announced he was fine? Why haven’t the marshals pulled him out of the car? Why wasn’t Charles climbing out of the seat?

These were the slowest seconds of your life.

Your lungs were failing you. Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Your eyes were glued to the screen and all you wanted was to scream for someone to tell you that he was fucking fine.

As you watched the broadcast, a close up on your face appeared in a square on the side of the screen. You had no idea you were crying, or that there was even a camera on you until Jolyon Palmer’s fucking voice pointed it out.

“...Leclerc’s sister watches on like the rest of us from the McLaren garage- oh and it appears one of the McLarens is also in the gravel, is that Lando’s car? I believe it is, but he’s not- he avoided the collision, didn’t he-”

Alex Jacques interjected, “He’s getting out of the car! Lando Norris is sprinting across the gravel towards the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc-”

His voice became background noise as you watched the scene unfold. Lando, who got away relatively fine with very little or possibly no damage, could have continued the race but he had gotten out of his McLaren and was now bent down next to the open cockpit of Charles’ car.

Lando lifted his head, waving the marshals over who had taken way too long to show up, in your opinion. Or maybe you just felt as though they were moving slowly because everything else was.

You saw Lando reach in and pull the steering wheel from the car and then finally, the black glove belonging to Charles grabbed onto Lando’s hand, needing his assistance to be pulled out from behind the halo.

There was a collective sigh of relief from the entire McLaren garage, probably from the entire paddock honestly. Even as the marshals showed up, Lando refused to step aside. Even when Charles stood up, Lando kept his hand on the Ferrari driver's back and used his other hand to point to the safety car that was pulling up.

Charles pulled his helmet off, even though he was most definitely advised to keep it on for the time being. As the camera focused on his features, it was impossible to miss how shaken up he was from that crash. He wasn’t angry that everything out of his control caused him to retire from the race, he was scared.

His life flashed before his eyes, you couldn’t blame him.

He said something to Lando, nodding his head slightly and the tension lines in his forehead seemed to reside, just for a moment.

Lando patted his shoulder, happy to see that a fellow driver was walking away from this incident with minor injuries. He’d have to retire, they both would. The second that Lando made the decision to get out of the car, he forfeited his race. It was one of the rules brought on by the FIA, one that didn’t even cross his mind.

All he cared about was making sure Charles was okay.

Lando didn’t need to join Charles in the safety car, but he did and Charles was probably thankful for it, that a familiar face would be with him as he was being transported to the medical centre.

You ditched the orange headset and sprinted out of the garage. The medical centre was just on the other side of the garages and you were certain you looked a little insane as you ran as though you were competing in a marathon, but you didn’t care.

There was security outside the medical centre, of course there was. The drivers needed their privacy as they were being checked over, but you didn’t expect to be denied entry. Charles was your brother.

“Oh come on,” you scoffed, sounding a bit frantic as you gestured to the doors. “He’s my brother! I need to make sure he’s okay, that he’s-”

And then the door opened from the inside and a very dishevelled Lando, still in his drivers suit, was standing there. He had heard you, it was impossible to not hear you with the way you were making a scene. He told the guard you were fine to come in and reluctantly, he stepped aside.

As thankful as you were that Lando was there to vouch for you, your attention was solely on Charles. You didn’t take a second to thank Lando for getting out of the car, you barely even acknowledged him as you ran down the hall to the examining room.

Before you could open the door you took a peek through the small window and saw him sitting on the edge of the examining bed. He was given the chance to change out of his drivers suit and opted for a baggy Puma shirt and sweats. He sat still as the doctor checked him over, answering the questions with head nods or quiet ‘no’s’.

You told yourself you had to be patient. The last thing he or the doctor needed was you barging in.

You leaned against the wall and forced yourself to slow down, to really process what hell just happened in such a short amount of time. Raising your hand to your cheeks, you finally wiped away the last bit of tears that had been stuck in the corner of your eyes.

“He’s okay.”

Looking down the hall you saw Lando making his way towards you. His intention was to give you a few minutes alone with Charles before joining you, but when you didn’t go inside the room and instead slumped yourself against the wall, Lando couldn’t just leave you.

Lando reached for your hand and gently tugged you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body.

It was comforting and it was what you needed right now.

“He’s okay,” Lando repeated, hand moving to stroke your hair. “Everyone’s okay, he’s a little shaken up but he’ll be fine.”

Lando pulled back slightly and took hold of your jaw, titling your face up. He brushed his thumbs under your puffy eyes, forcing himself to smile in assurance despite knowing how traumatising this was, not just for Charles but for your entire family.

Speaking of family, Arthur was the next Leclerc to run into the medical centre. Having been here this weekend as well for F2, he had seen it all as well. Not from the garage, he wasn’t there during the actual race, but he was still in the paddock and experienced the exact same feelings you had.

Lando stepped aside, letting you embrace your brother, both of you taking comfort in knowing that Charles was going to be fine.

“As-tu parlé à maman? Enzo?” Have you spoken to mom? Enzo? You asked, slowly feeling your trembling body start to settle itself. Enzo was somewhere in the paddock as well, usually he watched from the Ferrari garage but he was nowhere to be found now.

Arthur glanced at Lando and then at you, “Enzo’s on the phone with maman. When he knew Charles was safe, he called her.”

“Good,” you nodded. Enzo was probably the best option to calm your mother down and assure her everything was fine. You were still struggling to come to your senses and Arthur seemed to be about as loss for words as you were.

When the doctor stepped out of the room, she wasn’t at all surprised to see a whole family affair happening outside the doors. She simply told you he was all clear but needed to stay in the bed for the remainder of the afternoon just to monitor his symptoms.

All you needed was the go-ahead to see him and once you were given a thumbs up, you pushed past the doctor to tackle Charles back onto the hospital bed he was trying to sit up in. Arthur joined as well, arms going around both of your bodies as Charles patted you both, or at least tried to with his restricted movements.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Charles told you through a chuckle, “Je le promets, je vais bien.” I promise, I’m fine.

“It was terrifying, mate,” Arthur said on your behalf when you both stepped back to give Charles some space to breathe. “Upside down across the gravel-” he shook his head, “You’re lucky, is what you are.”

Charles nodded, there was no denying how grateful he should be, being able to walk away with very minor injuries.

“My radio disconnected, I tried letting Xavi know I was okay but nothing was going through.”

God maybe it was better you didn’t have a Ferrari headset on. If you had to listen to Xavi calling to Charles asking for a response and not getting anything back, you probably would have ran out to the track yourself.

“Did the race start again? Who's still in?” Charles asked, of course he was concerned about the race.

Neither you nor Arthur had an answer though.

“All I know is George somehow caused five drivers to retire, including himself,” Arthur said, and then he counted on his fingers. “You, him, Carlos, Lewis and Checo.”

“And Lando,” Charles added without missing a beat. His eyes went directly to you. You hadn’t said a word since you entered the room, but what was there to say?

This was your biggest fear and it could have gone so much worse. You were too dumbfounded to hear that Charles was going to be walking away after this to even think about anything else.

And that included Lando.

“Lando’s car is fine,” Arthur pointed out.

“FIA rules,” you said with a swallow. “If you get out of the car-"

"-you abandon your race," Charles finished, a sliver of guilt crossed his face. He didn’t ask for Lando to help him, nor was Lando even slightly involved. He took it upon himself to check on the Monegasque driver.

“Is he out there?” Charles asked, glancing at the door.

Truthfully, you didn’t know if Lando had stayed. It wouldn’t have surprised you if he went back to the McLaren garage. But when you opened the door and saw him sitting out in the hall, foot tapping against the floor, you put your hand on his shoulder and encouraged him with a nod to follow you into Charles’ room.

Lando kept his hand connected with yours, or maybe you refused to release the grip you had on his fingers, but his attention went to Charles.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Lando said what everyone else had been thinking this whole time.

Charles could have nodded in response. He could have said ‘same’ or ‘thanks’ anything, really. One word would have sufficed.

But Charles looked at Lando and asked, “Why’d you get out of your car?”

The question wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t by any means upset that Lando did what he did. It was more personal curiosity, why would another driver sacrifice his own race? Why would Lando, someone who could have continued on and had a pretty successful race following the multiple retirements, stop his car and climb out?

“I think the better question is, why didn’t anyone else?” Lando answered, squeezing your hand. “Yes, we’re drivers but at the end of the day we’re just people. If I had crashed like that and no one came to check on me, I’d question the integrity of the grid.”

Lando looked at you and then looked between the Leclerc brothers. All of you were wondering the same thing.

Would Charles have stopped for Lando if the situation was reversed?

You prayed they would never find themselves in that situation again, but it was a question you would all be thinking about. Charles, especially.

Lando didn’t stop for your sake. Sure, you were most definitely on his mind when he saw the way Charles’ flipped onto the gravel, but his thought process was not ‘I need to check on him because I’m dating his sister.’ Lando, in the goodness of his own heart, knew what needed to be done. He knew how terrifying it would be for Charles to hang upside in the cockpit, alone, probably anticipating impact from another car.

Lando didn’t care about the race. He cared about Charles. Just like he cared about you and Oscar and Carlos and every single person he ever interacted with, had even the briefest relationship with. Lando was a good guy.

He didn’t need to prove that to anyone, but he did.

And Charles finally saw that. He could separate the driver from his friend. He could see Lando as a rival on the track and at the end of the day, still respect him as the person you chose to go home to.

“I really am glad you’re okay,” Lando said, a smile curling up on his lips. “I should get back to McLaren though- let me know if you need anything? I’m sure we both have to fill out incident reports or some shit.”

They exchanged a laugh and Lando leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before retreating out of the room. All of you waited until he was definitely out of earshot before Arthur was the one to break the silence, letting out the most exasperating breath ever as he gestured towards where Lando just stood.

“Are you still on your high horse or do you finally give them your blessing?” Arthur asked, earning a smile from you in response.

Charles licked his lips, rolling his eyes in a very similar fashion to how you would, “They don’t need my blessing. They would have dated regardless.”

You nodded, agreeing with everything he had just said. Charles would not have been the one to separate you two.

But it would certainly be nice to know he approved. It would be easier to breathe the next time you thought about inviting Lando to a family dinner. You didn’t want to have to fight with yourself when it came to choosing what garage to stand in during a race. You didn’t want there to be sides anymore.

As you stood there, waiting for Charles to say something that hinted towards him not having a problem with your relationship, it hit you that Charles was more stubborn than you gave him credit for. He would probably never give a verbal approval.

But his stare told a different story. The way he glanced at the door behind you. The realisation in his eyes when he thought about the way you leaned into Lando’s touch before he left the room. The look Charles gave you told you that he could see how happy that McLaren driver made you, that he knew there was no point in fighting it.

So he didn’t have to say anything, you knew.

You stayed in that room for the rest of the afternoon, even though Arthur did tell you that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you went and found Lando. Charles didn’t even tense up when he suggested it.

But you stayed seated next to Charles’ bed, Arthur on his other side as you watched the race restart for the third time. Enzo joined you not long after and he sat down next to you, nudging your side and asking where Lando was, as if it was odd that he wasn’t there.

“I’ll find him later,” you said, but later would turn out to be way after the race when you finally made it back to the hotel.

Lando had texted you just before the race ending, asking if you were getting a ride back to the hotel with your brother. He also checked in on Charles, making sure he was still, in his words, ‘alive and nowhere closer to the drivers championship’. Charles rolled his eyes when he read that text over your shoulder.

Lando knew how important family was to you, even during the uncertain times. That’s why he wasn’t upset in the slightest that you spent the rest of the race with your brothers. He could separate you, the girl he was waiting to call his girlfriend, from the girl whose brother was a Formula 1 driver.

He knew what he was getting into when he looked at you differently all those weeks ago, he knew he’d have to share you, that this would only make all three of your lives a little more chaotic, but he still looked at you.

And god was he glad he did.

You returned to the hotel and told Charles to call you if you needed anything before heading up the elevator to the room you and Lando were sharing for the weekend. As you looked into your purse to find your room key, something on the carpeted hotel floor caught your eye.

A white flower petal. Just one.

And then another just a few feet ahead.

And then a dozen more that you didn’t pick them up, but you followed the wavy line of them all the way to the door to your suite, which had been propped open by a deadbolt lock preventing the door from shutting all the way.

You pushed it open only to see full daisies attached to their stems on the floor this time, also in a line that you followed down the hall and around the corner. You were starting to imagine what was waiting for you behind the bedroom door, but never in your wildest dreams would you have pictured this.

Lando standing at the edge of a bed, not in one of his own Quadrant t-shirts for a change but a form fitting black button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and just enough of his chest showing that you had to remind yourself there was more to look at.

On top of the bed was a box of pizza, but it was flipped open and it was mouthwatering. It wasn’t some random box he picked up at a shop on the way back to the hotel, this gourmet pizza looked like it cost a pretty penny.

On the side table were two glasses, wine glasses of course, but next to an unopened bottle of Perrier because Lando didn’t drink wine but you both had no complaints about sparkling water.

Most importantly, in his hand was a bouquet of daisies, beautifully wrapped in brown paper.

And it finally clicked.

“I thought I’d redo our first date,” Lando said quietly as you walked towards him.

The pizza, the flowers, the sparkling water. Everything that was in attendance that first night he came to your place, unannounced and unwelcome but somehow it ended up being the most beautiful start of these whirlwind couple of months.

“That wasn’t a date,” you teased as Lando handed you the bouquet.

“Agree to disagree,” same words too.

Lando snaked his arm around your back, hand spread across the thin fabric of your shirt as he pulled you against his chest. You draped an arm over his shoulders, careful not to drop the flowers as two very similar smirks grew on both of your faces.

Lando stopped himself from kissing you, instead letting his lips hover over yours as he quieted his voice, “Do I really have to ask?”

“Yes.”

He squinted, something he did when his smile grew. You loved the lines around his eyes, the creases in his forehead when he was undeniably happy. It meant so much more knowing you were the reason for his bright features.

Lando took a breath before your first and last name passed through his lips. His hand moved further up your back and even though you knew what was happening, your heart was still racing, in the way you wanted it to this time.

“Will you-” he paused, rolling his eyes at how naive this all sounded, but he carried on because he knew it was what you wanted. “Will you, please, be my girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “Oh, you’re begging?”

Lando turned his head, “Okay, you know what, I take it back-”

Before he could finish the rest of that sentence you cupped the side of his face and pulled his lips to yours. Lando’s grip on your back pulled you tighter against his body as the daisies slipped from your hand and onto the edge of the bed.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend,” you muttered against his lips, kissing him quickly once more.

Lando was blushing at your response, but his grin shifted into yet another smirk. One with an ulterior motive, one that had you slightly cautious.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you I only checked on Charles because I knew it would move me up your driver ranking?”

You pulled back and stared up at him, jaw slack as he held his hand over his stomach and laughed at his own words.

“I’m kidding!” He assured you, blurting that out before you could really question his motives. “I promise, I’m kidding. I really did want to make sure he was okay."

“Well now I don’t believe you,” you scoffed, but you only said it to get under his skin in response.

You could tell when Lando was being honest and you could tell when he was simply making a joke. Granted, maybe now was not an ideal time to make a joke, but him being able to make you smile, even a little bit, after witnessing something as traumatic as Charles’ crash, was what you needed.

Lando being there to support you, to be the shoulder you needed, to be someone who only had your well being, and apparently your brothers’ wellbeing, in mind, was all you ever needed.

“I don’t think you’ll ever surpass my own brother on the ranking,” you admitted with a sly grin as he twisted a strand of your hair around your finger, tilting your face upwards again as he listened to your final ranking. There was some truth to it. Charles would always be up there, but there were never any rules against ties. “But you can share the number on spot with him.”

Lando licked his lips, “What about number one in your heart?”

Your head dipped forehead against his chest as you laughed at his words, more specifically how quick he was to get them out, like he was waiting for a reason to use that line.

“That was so cheesy,” you said, still laughing. “Like, horribly cheesy. I-should-walk-out-of-this-room kind of cheesy.”

And you pretended to, taking a step towards the door, careful of the daisies at your feet. But Lando didn’t let you go anywhere. His grip on your hand tightened and he pulled you back to him, where you both knew you belonged.

“You loved it,” he teased, his smile only growing at your eye roll.

“I did,” you admitted quietly with a reluctant sight. “I loved it.” You took a breath, looking at the set up he had created in your absence. “I love this, I love-” and then your eyes darted up to meet his again.

Lando Norris. The driver turned friend turned something more. In such a short period of time, he became one of the most important people in your life. His teasing, his jokes, his stupid driver ranking plan.

He was someone, that from day one, you should have known you were going to fall in love with. Since the day he decided to make it his mission to move up your list of favourite drivers.

But it was okay that you weren’t there yet, that you looked up at him and choked on that endearing phrase, shutting your mouth instead. Saying those three words took time, trust, effort. This was still so new.

Besides, after working his way up from sixth to, a tied, first, Lando needed a new mission now anyway.

And getting you to fall in love with him seemed like the perfect one.

-----

six months later

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, ynleclerc and 576,102 others

tagged: ynleclerc

landnorris happy 6 months to the girl who once said i was her sixth favourite driver

view all 16, 530 comments

ynleclerc i love u

charles_leclerc don't get too cocky mate you can easily drop back down the ranking

carlossainz55 remember when i was her second favourite?

pierregasly why is this the first i'm hearing about a driver ranking

ynleclerc because you were booted to last place landonorris just like the driver standings pierregasly 🖕🏼🖕🏼

danielricciardo i approve of this relationship

the end :')

thank u everyone for the support while this intended 6 part series turned in 12 parts ♡ i hope u all fell a little bit in love w lando norris bc i sure did - also make sure to check out my other work here (ps i cant wait to start a new fic hehe)

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1@masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1@scarlettisconfused@sbgal@e-lisa-bettan@harrysdimple05@ophcelia@alesainz@fandomxs1@majx00@sbgal@mehrmonga@themockingjayreader@f1mockingjay@topguncultleader@lclrnelliluvs@moonxblossom@dr3lover@andrewgarfields-girlfriend@tsarinablogs@noescapricho-essentimiento@f1mockingjay@xqueenslytherinxif i missed someone im so sorry

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

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yourimagines · 2 months

Note

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Lewis tells the reader he’s leaving Mercedes

Sad/angst/fluff?

I was in shock when I heard this….

A new adventure

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers; Sad, Angst, Swearing and Fluff

Y/n POV

Lewis was acting a bit strange, like his mind is not here. He was sitting outside on his balcony watching the busy Monaco streets. “Honey.” I softly said and wrapped my arms around his neck, placing a peck on his cheek. “Hey darling.” He say quietly and touched my arms that hung loosely around his neck. “Are you okay?” He hums softly and kissed my hands. “I love you.” He whispers against my knuckles and placed a few kisses on them as well. “I love you.” I said back and kissed his cheek again. He stayed quiet but softly hold my hands, tracing them as he stared in front of him as his mind wanderers off again.

Lewis was nervous, his left knee was bouncing up and down and he was biting his nails. “You okay?” “Yeah.” He rubbed his face and gave me a forced smile. “If you don’t like the movie we can watch something else.” He shook his head. “No no, it’s a good movie.” I shrugged and looked back at the tv. He sighs and gets up. “I’m going for a run, don’t wait up for me.” He placed a kiss on my head and disappears. ‘What is going on with him?’

I was lying in bed, tossing around as Lewis was away for more than two hours now. ‘Where is he? Is he okay?’ I sighed and checked my phone, no messages from him. ‘He will be fine, he’s probably nervous about the new season that’s coming up.’ As I was thinking about calling him the front door got unlocked and I heard him coming home quietly. I sat right back up in bed and waited for him.

Lewis POV

I tiptoed through the apartment and got to the bathroom to take a cold quick shower as I tried to not wake her up. I stripped down and turned the shower on and hopped under the cold water. “Ohh that’s cold.” I whispered and quickly washed my sweaty body.

I walked with a towel around my waist to our walk-in closet and grabbed some clothes to wear. I ditched the towel in the laundry basket and carefully opened the bedroom door, her nightlight was on and she was sitting straight back up in bed. “Honey I was getting worried…” I slowly walked over, feeling a bit nervous and shrugged. “I’m okay.” I slowly joined her in bed and she rolls over, embracing me. “I’m here for you my love.” ‘I know darling…’ I gently pushed her back and looked at her, she looked confused and a bit worried. “What’s wrong?” She looked worried and I swallowed my nerves away and took a deep breath. ‘It’s time to tell her.’

“I talked this morning with Toto.” I grabbed her hands and hold them for support. “And what was it about?” “I’m leaving the team at 2025.” Her face fell and she looked in shock. “What? why? Are you retiring?” I shook gently my head and smiled. “No I’m not retiring darling, I’m going to race for Ferrari.” She immediately thrown her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. “Thats amazing my love.” I held her close to me and smiled with tears pricking in my eyes. She pulls back, looking at me with such happiness in her eyes. “Are you happy my love?” I nodded and caressed her right cheek. “I am, it’s a real pleasure to race for them and I love my team but it’s time to move on, they can’t give me what I want so it’s for the best.” She smiles and a tear escaped from my eye. “My love.” She whispers and wipes the tear away as she gets emotional too. “I’m sorry.” I cracked a laugh as she rubs her eyes. “No it’s okay…we both are a bit of emotional wrecks.” She laughed a bit. “We are.” I joked back and pulled her close again. “I’m happy for you my love.” “You support me?” She nods and plants a kiss on my lips. “I always support you my champ.”

Y/Nhamilton

Lewishamilton, Landonorris and 24k others liked this

Tagged: lewishamilton

My husband, My Love, My champ❤️

# Ferrari

View all the 12k comments

Hamiltonfan: I’m in shock but so happy!

NicolasHamilton: happy for you and my big brother 🏎️

Y/nHamilton replied: thank you Nicolas 🙏🏻

F1crazyfan: this was not in my bingo card for this year! 🤩

Lewishamilton: ❤️

Y/NHamilton replied: ❤️

Hamiltonsfanpage replied: ahh so cute 💕

Bossygirl32 replied: 🤮

TomHolland: congratulations both of you🥂

Y/Nhamilton replied: thank you 🙏🏻

F1fanpage replied: I love you Tom!

LewisHamilton replied: thank you 🙏🏻

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thepersonnamedsam · 11 months

Text

tiktoks on the paddock

pairing: genz!driver x '23!grid

summary: tiktoks about the paddock are fun

word count: 873

warnings: none

note: enjoy :) it’s a bit short…

masterlist / taglist

The paddock, a place where many things are happening all at once. And phew, for y/n it’s like a feast for content. She loves filming everything and collecting memories. Her TikToks are an absolute favourite by the fans. Loving the content of all the drivers and her.

At the Australian GP, where she finally met Danny again, she wanted to do a TikTok with him. „Please Danny, please do a TikTok with me. I don’t even have to post it, it’s just for me and you“, she pleaded with puppy-dog-eyes and how could anyone ever say no to that face. „Alright, what do we have to do?“ - „Let’s do that one.“

Just guess how many tries it took to finally have a good result. 27 tries, 27! Daniel kept laughing or people would walk in and they had to restart the whole thing.

„Daniel Joseph Ricciardo, please be serious!“ - Oh oh, y/n just called me by my full name, this can’t be good“, he muttered. „Just try please“, she begged him. She loved his laugh, but he did it every time. Okay, she had laughed for the first few tries as well, only because he had laughed, but still.

And then Lando walked in: „Whatcha guys doin?“, y/n did not seem impressed. „Lando, you just walked into our TikTok and now we have to start again, do you know how long this takes?“, her voice serious and stern. Lando put his hands above his head and surrendered. He kind of wanted to ask to be apart of the TikTok, but as soon as he saw the look on her face, he didn’t.

As they finally managed to make a decent take, she was so happy. Doing her happy dance like she did as a little child. Daniel couldn’t help but laugh, the younger driver was just adorable. „Thank you Danny!“ She went and hugged the reserve driver. „Aw, you’re very welcome, y/n.“

And she always did a ‚get ready with me for paddock‘ TikTok, the fans love it.

„Okay guys, hello and welcome to my GRWM for the Miami GP! I am so excited! The Americans always make this huge deal out of the grand prix‘s and we’ll see how it’ll turn out this year.“ She looked into the camera of her phone, seeing her own figure. „Let’s see, I know that Lewis is gonna wear a sequinned purple jumpsuit, should we match him or do our own thing?“ Her hands were both placed on the sides of her head, squishing it, as if this would produce more ideas.

She didn’t pack that many outfits, only recently gotten into fashion, because of Lewis, duh. But you could describe her style as 70s or early 80s kind of pop-rock style, with some floated pants and vintage pieces. It wasn’t unique, she knew that, but it was what made her comfortable in her own body, thats the main reason why she wore it.

„The temperature will be high today and I don’t feel like sweating before the race. I will do that enough during. Hmm, let’s look.“

„I think I’m gonna go with these pants“, she held up some blue pleaded pants. „Yes ohh, and definitely my Rolling Stones shirt. It looks like something Harry would wear!“ That shirt was probably as old as her, she bought it in an old vintage store in Vegas in 2022.

„Oh and maybe Lily has some nice shoes for me and a bag! Let’s go ask her!“ She took the phone off the nightstand and stormed out of her hotel room. She lightly knocked on Alex‘ room and he opened. „Hey y/n, what can I do for ya?“ - „Is Lily here?“, she didn’t even said hello to him. He was taken back for a moment, but he already knew that his girlfriend was higher on y/n‘s list. „Uh yeah, she’s here.“ She pushed him aside and went into the hotel room.

„Lily, say hi to my TikTok“, she pointed her phone at the chines golfer. The spoken to just waved and looked a bit confused. „Lily, my dear, I want to wear these pants and that shirt, do you have some shoes for me?“ She looked at the older girl. „Yes, I have the perfect shoes and a bag that would look so lovely on you“, Lily was excited, always wanting to dress up the young driver.

She gave her some brown faux leather shoes with a little bit of heel. And a brown bag. She also found a hat that would look good on her. Together with some accessories, y/n was ready for the paddock (and finished with her TikTok).

Later that day, the media talked about her outfit and how it looks like something Harry Styles would wear. She was happy to see that they saw who inspired the whole look.

She didn’t do the GRWM often, but what she did was the whole trend stuff, sign her up for some funny filters, who’d she pick to be her Hogwarts Parents or some stupid dances she saw on her For You Page. She was obsessed with TikTok. She usually spent two hours before she went to sleep on TikTok. But who doesn’t.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan

#tiktok #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #fernando alonso #genz driver #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #george russell #lewis hamilton #female driver #gen z

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bringbacktim · 4 months

Note

sebastian vettel x reader where y/n comforts him after his difficult time in ferrari. fluff to smut maybe hehe x

Red to green

Sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted , I got carried away with the dialogue as I usually do , it does have a sexual ending but not quite smut as I just wanted to get this out

Not edited or proofread

Warnings: mentions of sex and sexual things , sad seb ig , probably incorrect use of German words , a crap ton of dialogue

Wc:738 words

You're replacing Checo at force India and I had to find out through the f1 Instagram page" Y/n asked storming into the room where her husband sebastian was

"It's Aston Martin now , but yes I am" he said not daring to move out of his chair as she seemed calmer than she should be and he was scared she was going to try and hurt him if he got up

" Still doesn't answer the question of why you didn't tell me you're own wife" she said crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at him waiting for his answer

" I didn't want to tell you Schatz because of how bad my ferrari season went , if I told you everything would've went bad" he explained hoping for sympathy

" I thought I was your good luck charm though?" She fake pouted and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she sat sideways on his lap

"Don't give me that face , you know what I meant leibling" he laughed

" It's just like when you start dating someone so you don't tell anyone cause once you do they start to not like you anymore , I get it seb. I just wish someone atleast told me so I could've stopped buying ferrari merch"

"You look so good in red though" he teased as he traced up and down her arm ( I literally don't know how you describe it )

"Flattery will get you very far with me mr.vettel" she tried not to cringe as she said that but with of them both laughed

"You can go back to being mad with me how" he told her as he gave her a flirty push

"Well daniil isn't there anymore so you don't have to fight him , but bottas is and he did basically cost you the championship lead , but I'm sure you'll do great" y/n said holding his face and kissing his cheek

"Such kind words , you forgot when me and Lewis had contact in Belgium 2018 and I dropped to the back of the grid" he said looking sad at remembering the memory

"Didn't want to bring that one up since lewis is becoming a bit more of a madman when it comes to having contact with people"

As sebastian sat looking like a kicked puppy Y/n couldn't help but feel bad I mean she did bring up some of the bad things that had happened while seb was in ferrari but she was trying to uplift him in a joking manner , which clearly hadn't worked.

He assured her he was fine but even stevie wonder could see he was anything but .

Y/n tried to mention some highlights in his career like his red bull prime, but seb would just hit back with two other mistakes that happened whilst he was in ferrari as if everything bad that happened was his fault

"You know not everything is always your fault right? You tried your best in ferrari but it wasn't the right fit for you and that's okay"

"But ferrari is one of the best teams in the world and I was terrible, Charles even outnumbered me in Japan" her husband answered head in his hands

"Thats not the end of the world , you even said yourself that charles has a gift and Japan is only one race so why does it matter. Plus I wasn't there to give you any of my good luck"

"So it was your fault I did so bad?" He questioned half a grin showing

"I guess so yes all the bad things we're all my fault" she said with a michevous twinkle in her eye hoping they were on the same page

"Oh yeah ? Guess we're going to have to do something about that then aren't we" oh they were definitely on the same page , same sentence even

"What're you going to do ? Punish me for being so bad or something?" Y/n said stading up and walking slowly backwards towards the stairs that lead to their room

"Don't start something you can't finish" he warned stalking after her

"We both know I can make you finish, just depends where you want to" she giggled as she increased the speed she was walking at as he was hot on her heels

He only ever mentioned his sad ferrari memories after that if he wanted to either annoy his wife or get some

#sebastian vettel x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula 1 #f1 #ferrari #aston martin #charles leclerc

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your-nanas-house · 7 months

Note

people (me) needs more one shots of neil lewis and raymond leon to stay alive. Anything will be received with total appreciation n.n

For real! Such good characters, love them so much 🍓

In my neighbour's pool

◇ Pairing: Neil Lewis X gn!reader

◇ Warnings: smut, handjob, friends to lovers kind of, illegality, hate

◇ Summary: You're fed up with your neighbor and Neil knows it, so he makes a plan to get back at them and spend the evening with you.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

It was a summer evening, it was hot and your best friend Neil had come to your house to tell you about his day.

He often came to visit you to steal things from your fridge and complain about his love life and the terrible orgasms he could only have while watching porn or sometimes movies.

You didnt mind most of the time, you loved Neil even though he could be quite nerdy and boring sometimes but you appreciate his company— not that evening though.

Your usual focus on him wasnt there, your eyes were glued on the house of your neighbour as you sipped your coke.

"Has Mrs. Bailey still bothered you?" Neil's voice interrupted your thoughts of hate and annoyance; he noticed that you werent actually listen to him since you were doing that humming and short replies that you always did when you werent really following something.

"Yeah, she's been a pain the the ass again. I swear I cant take it anymore, that lady needs to take some calming meds—" you scoffed, gritting slightly your teeth as you remembered what happened that morning

"She even got a fucking new pool in her backyard—" you murmured in anger, glancing at Neil when you noticed the silence.

His light blue eyes were focused on the house as well, his hands on his hip as he thought almost posing

"Why dont we go use that pool of hers? We could do something to take reveage" he suggested before listing options that he saw in a few recent movies he saw at the shop with his coworkers.

You honestly didn't mind the idea but you didn't want to cross the line too much, as not to get in too much troubles. If he would have suggested that a few weeks earlier you wouldn't have agreed but now that you were still extremely pissed at her, you went along with Neil.

Thats how you found yourself in the warm water of your neighbour's pool, wearing your swimsuit just like Neil, your hand stuck in his as you lowered it to free his hard cock.

His tongue kept exploring your mouth as your hand explored his length, squeezing his heavy balls to earn a whimper from his pretty swollen lips.

"You are pretty long, man" you murmured, kissing and nibbling at the tender skin of his neck, focusing on his adam's apple

"And-so-fucking-hard" your murmured as you stroked his cock a few times, taking a small pause at every word.

Neil's face was covered of a soft blush, his eyes were rolling back as his hips kept moving forewards, meeting your movements to fuck your hand faster— he was nearly meowing, letting soft moans and whimpers leave his mouth.

You could feel that he was getting closer and closer to his peak, his muscles flexing against your body, which was pressed against his, his cock throbbing and twitching at every movement of your skilled hand.

Neil came hard, letting out a meowing noise before catching his breath, his icy blue eyes now back open and focused on you

"Fuck that was—" he murmured, ready to praise your hidden skills and kiss you when a noise interrupted the both of you.

A shiver run down your spine when your neighbour walked out in her backyard, holding a bowl of milk and another one with cat's food

"Petunia, my lovely kitty, is that you? Mommy had your food—" the old annoying lady asked, making you hold back a laugh as you fixes quickly Neil's swim trucks— leading him quickly away from there as soon as you realized that the woman had probably heard your best friend's pathetic moans, mistaking them for the whining of one of her 8 cats.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

#neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis x you #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy #neil lewis cillian murphy #neil lewis smut #neil lewis oneshot #cillian murphy smut

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starkwlkr · 1 month

Text

i’m listening to the rocky horror picture show soundtrack and one of my favorite songs is touch-a, touch-a, touch me so now i feel obligated to write something with the f1 dilfs and that song maybe reader gets the part of janet and whichever f1 dilf i decide to write for is like “hey, aren’t you supposed to practice?👀 i can help you”

like it’s such a good song 😭 i’m currently listening to victoria justice’s version and it’s so underrated i liked her as janet idc what anyone says

yeah this is such a random idea BUT THATS HOW ALL MY IDEAS COME TO ME I SWEAR 😭 like my mark fic (boys on the radio) i was literally listening to celebrity skin by hole and boys on the radio came on and yeah that’s where i got the idea lol

but yeah idk who i should write for so help me out babes <3

#f1 dilfs #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #kimi raikkonen x reader #jenson button x reader #fernando alonso x reader #mark webber x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #Spotify

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hockeyandhrsepwr · 11 months

Text

Abu Dhabi moments

Jack Hughes x Ferrari driver reader

Je T’aime Masterlist

** Vegas is the last race before Abu Dhabi & series takes place in 2024 with Danny, Seb & Mick still on the grid **

A handful of moments as the season come to an end because I didn’t want to write a full fic. Also how are y’all? I’ve haven’t been on here in a while because ya girl had finals and grad 🫶

Post Practice, Friday

Welcome back to sunny Abu Dhabi, as we prepare for the final race of the season!! This weekend brings us the most heated battle for the Drivers Championship we’ve ever seen!! Yes that includes Lewis versus Max 2021, the Mercedes battle of 2016 & Sebastian Vettels maiden win in 2010. Ferrari have the Consrtuctors trophy, will they clinch the Drivers too? Lets have a look at the possibilities

Y/n L/n currently sits first in the points, with Max trailing by only one. Charles Leclerc only sits only 5 points behind him. It will come down to whoever takes the win for this race. Three potential champions, one race. Will it be a third championship for Verstappen, a second for Leclerc or a first for L/n?

Are you excited? Because we sure are. They all had great practices today. Who will come out on top? Tune in all weekend to see what happens!

Lets send it over to Naomi, who’s with y/n now

Media Pen

Hi y/n, how are we feeling today?

I’m doing great, how about you?

You know, I’m pretty good but were not here to talk about me. What’re you feeling coming into this weekend, knowing that the championship could be yours?

Honestly, I’m trying not to think about that. It’s just a normal race. I dont want to psych myself out since anything can happen once we get on that track. Of course I’d love to win, but who knows. Charles & I have been able to bring that constrictors back to Ferrari which was incredible, and whoever wins will have absolutely deserved it.

Thats a great way to look at it! I’m rooting for you but we’ll see what happens. Now, onto something more important. You had an interesting weekend in Las Vegas, didn’t you?

Yeah, you know the race was a lot of fun and it was great to win, especially given the issues we had the week before

Girl you know thats not what I’m talking about!!! I mean your after race shenanigans Haha, yeah, so I got married which was a special experience.

Can I ask if you’d planned that going into the weekend?

Oh not at all! It was more a timing thing. So Saturday night Jack, my husband which is still weird to say, asked if I’d want to get married while we were there. He played a game in Vegas which is why he was there at all. Of course I wanted to marry him, but I didnt want to do it without some of our closest friends there. Luckily, most of them who play hockey were either in Vegas because they’re on his team or they were within a 2 hour flight range so we could get them there for Sunday night. And of course I was able to get the guys from the grid there no problem. So we just decided to go for it!

So no parents?

No, unfortunately not. Both of our parents live on the east coast and it was too quick to get them there, but we’re going to do a big party over the summer so they can celebrate with us.

At least they’ll have that!! Can I ask what the planning was like?

Jack took on all of the decisions which was really great of him since I had the race that evening, but Sunday morning we texted everyone with flight info & told them to get there asap. Then my best friend Thomas went & picked a dress for me, since Jack wasn’t allowed. I sent a message to our groupchat after the race with the chapel address once jack found somewhere & told the drivers to be there and look decent. It was a really great night though & I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Well congratulations!! Is he here this weekend?

Unfortunately not, hockey season is well underway, but I’m on the first flight to New York that I can get & we’ll have the winter break together.

Well, all the best to you and your new husband, and we’ll talk to you later this weekend I’m sure. Good Luck tomorrow!!

Thanks Naomi!

RACE DAY

Commentators

Oh my god, we’ve come down to the final lap to decide the championship. Who’s going to cross the line first?? Right now L/n is leading, but Verstappen is right behind her. Will he be able to get past?? The other Ferrari of Leclerc is a fraction of a second behind Verstappen.

There goes Leclerc!!! He’s trying to pass Verstappen, my word! OHHH he does it!! Charles Leclerc puts his Ferrari between the Ferrari of L/n and the red bull of Verstappen

Radio: “Tell y/n I’ve got verstappen, go & win it!!”

That was Leclerc, it looks like he’s going to defend against Verstappen so L/n can win. We have half a lap, can he hold off the Red Bull? Fantastic driving by Leclerc, and what a teammate!!

Here it it!!! Rounding the final corner in that iconic red car, its L/n!! The chequered flag is waving, SHES DONE IT!!!!

Radio: C’est toi y/n!!! Tu es la championne du monde!!!!!

In her 4th season in Formula one, your 2023 World Champion Y/n L/n everyone!! What a finish from the young driver. History is made here tonight as she becomes the first female driver ever to win the championship!! She’s also the second youngest driver to take it after former ferrari teammate Sebastian Vettel.

What a race, what a finish as Leclerc crosses in second, less than half a second behind.

You

Over the radio you hear the team celebrating but you have no words. It doesn’t feel real. There’s tears streaming down your face. All the shit you put up with, all the years of hard work, missing your friends and family, it’s all lead up to this.

“Y/n?” You can hear your engineer ask since you haven’t responded, but nothing comes out. Driving towards the end, you do your donuts and pull in to your designated spot. You just sit there for a second before “HOLY FUCK” and someone on the other end laughs.

You’re still crying but its all happy tears as you pull yourself up & step onto the front of the car. You sit down on the Halo & put your head in your hands, trying to collect yourself as the crowd goes mad around you. Pulling off your helmet you look over to your team at the barriers & smile. You want to run over & celebrate with them, but you can’t bring yourself to move, afraid its all a dream. Then you get tackled. You’ve completely missed the other guys pulling up, too in your own head and you jump when Charles grabs you and pulls you off your car. He pulls you into a hug & whispers congratulations in your ear before someone else grabs you & you see Mick.

“You fucking did it!” He yells and you laugh. It was the kick in the ass you needed and you release Mick to go over to your team, hugging your engineer first. After that it’s a blur, until someone passes you a phone.

“McQueen!!!” Thomas is on the one end of the FaceTime, jack also popping up on the screen. You laugh at the nickname, glad to see their faces.

“I’m so proud of you!” Jack says “Me too!!” Thomas yells, wanting to be part of the conversation. “Thanks Thom!” “I love you so much babe! I can’t really hear you so I’ll call you later?” “Go celebrate, I’ll see you soon. Je t’aime mon amour” You blow a kiss before handing back the phone. There’s one more person you need to see. You spot Susie and you rush over to her. She’s been a mentor and inspiration to you since you were a kid and without her who knows where you’d be right now.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. You’re pulled into interview after interview, congratulations coming from all around and your phone buzzing like its possessed. You call your parents & Jack but thats it, grateful for all the love but too overwhelmed to deal with responding to all your messages. That night you and the boys go full send. You know its a good night since you can’t remember anything. Monday is filled with media, and then you hop on a flight straight to Newark.

Fourteen hours later, Jack & Luke are waiting from you when you finally make it through customs.

You’d think you’re racing or an Olympic gold to win the 100m with how fast you fly over to Jack & jump into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you hug him like a koala.

“Tu l’as fait” he whispers in your ear as you squeeze each other, your face buried in his neck. You can hear the emotion in his voice

“Je l’ai fais”

“Ma championne”

“Je t’aime tellment”

“Mon champion” you say back, smiling at the fact that both of you won this year

“Cough cough, Hi, hello, where’s my hug?” Luke says from somewhere behind you, causing you to giggle and pull your head up to look at him

“I’ll get to you in a sec”

Jack puts you down & you give Luke his hug. “Congrats y/n/n. You deserved it”

“ Thanks Moose. Now we match with our trophies.”

“We do!!” He passes you the big bouquet of flowers he’s holding, “from mom & dad”

“I love them. Let’s go home boys”

#jack hughes x reader #fast cars and sharp shoes au #f1 #f1 x hockey #jjwritesshit #je taime series #driver!reader #jack hughes imagine #f1 blurb #nhl blurb #hockey shit #formula one #hockey blurb

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samstclair · 7 months

Text

Tommy Shelby's Barmaid

Tommy Shelby X Reader

Anonymous Request -

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)

Word Count: pretty long

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"And where are we off to, Miss?"

"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"

The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast.

"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!

The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you.

"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you.

"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on.

"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself.

You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure.

"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit.

With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do.

As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game.

Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!

Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be.

Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever.

About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest.

However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one.

"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."

You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye.

The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.

"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]

After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr.

A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3

You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic.

You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh.

You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that.

You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it.

You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on.

"Ello Miss? Miss?"

Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake.

"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up.

"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.

"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach -

"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out. "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"

As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always.

"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!

But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight.

"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"

And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication.

You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what? A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye.

You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking.

"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav.

"Oh my god, you guys exist?"

She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe.

"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended.

"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"

"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"

"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car.

"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"

"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"

Their faces dropped with fear.

"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned.

"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."

"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"

"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"

"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"

You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly.

You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell.

"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"

You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits.

Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray.

"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"

No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified.

You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.

"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"

You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up.

"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"

You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set.

It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it.

"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."

The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?

Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it.

You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!

Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime.

"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."

"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"

"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."

He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"

"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."

Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost.

It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry.

"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3

Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.

"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke.

"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused.

"Y'all got a menu?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."

"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"

"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"

He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face.

"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"

You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale.

"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose.

His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"

You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities.

"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."

"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."

The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing.

"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked.

"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."

"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"

"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."

You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing.

"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."

"Queen?" he asked.

"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water.

"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles.

"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."

You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time.

About half an hour later, you were mid-way through.

"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."

"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked.

"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."

"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked.

"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.

"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"

They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other.

"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."

"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber.

"Def," you said.

"So you and Kendall?" another asked.

"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."

"But this is Birmingham?" another man said.

"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."

Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen.

"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry.

He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought.

You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck.

You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%.

"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket."

You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling.

You clicked play.

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"

"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."

"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.

"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say.

You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg.

"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...

You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.

Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no.

"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"

"What's a credit score?"

You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit.

But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...

"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away.

He didn't reply.

"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"

He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily.

"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."

"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat.

You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place.

You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead.

He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke.

You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier.

"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.

"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."

You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine.

Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words.

"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"

He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."

"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."

"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass.

"Bagpipes, I've heard."

He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined.

"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"

He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up.

"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up.

As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!

He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring.

"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."

"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating.

"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."

"Parole?"

"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked.

He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad.

"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."

He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way.

"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him.

"Most nights," he said.

"Don't worry, me too."

"You served?"

"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend.

"I wasn't aware women served."

"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest.

"What's it you're looking at?"

"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...

You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second.

You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."

You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3.

Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!

But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you.

You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs.

Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think,

"What if I just grabbed his hat?"

Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won.

"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic. You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3

But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...

You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself,

"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -"

The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo.

He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.

He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes.

"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)

He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless.

You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head.

"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"

"Can you sing?"

You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum?

"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"

"Every barmaid knows how to sing."

"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"

He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo.

"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"

"Lana. She sounds nice."

You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."

"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway.

You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter.

You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop.

"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.

"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."

You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!

You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.

Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose.

Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!

You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile.

"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground.

He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did.

"Do you have something nice to wear?"

"Like what?"

"A dress?"

"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"

He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."

"We're gonna race?"

"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."

"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.

The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker.

You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl.

You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had.

It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly.

You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.

You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now.

"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."

And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car.

"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window.

It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.

You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys.

Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life.

"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"

Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself.

Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good.

He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake.

"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"

Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy.

"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."

Tommy turned back to the road.

"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on.

"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"

You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.

Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"

You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades.

"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested.

"What?" John asked.

"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades.

Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."

"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"

The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked.

"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."

You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities.

"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.

"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3

It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining.

Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅."

He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away.

"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else.

"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to.

Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there.

"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone.

"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good.

"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."

He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips.

"Not hungry."

You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."

"Maybe later. Do you dance?"

"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored.

All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art.

With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great.

Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else.

As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating.

"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win." You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong.

Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor.

"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays.

"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...

You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows.

The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross.

"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?"

"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.

"Wot?" Kimber spat.

You almost laughed.

"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".

Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless.

"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.

You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts.

"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."

You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused.

"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall.

He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak.

"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"

With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches.

When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.

You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane.

You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself.

"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"

You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment.

You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat.

Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran.

"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you.

"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"

"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."

"The mouth on you -"

"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"

"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted.

As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried.

"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"

"Girl move -"

You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet.

After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had.

As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping?

You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."

After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.

You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!

After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race.

But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere.

You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her.

"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."

The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!

"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"

You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."

You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...

You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy.

You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier.

You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen.

"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"

"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual.

"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"

He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."

"Ew, why?"

"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."

You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!

"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"

He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling.

Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe.

Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3

"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."

You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!

"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"

He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!

He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!

"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot.

You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like.

"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"

He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in.

"I know people. It's my job."

You couldn't help but smirk.

"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought.

He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit.

You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME.

You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good.

You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering.

For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it.

There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure.

You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove

"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked.

The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"

You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats.

"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it.

You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!

"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it.

He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."

"Aren't I already, low-key though?"

"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"

He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend.

"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"

You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says.

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.

You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone.

You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken.

" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"

He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face.

"I'm not familiar with them."

"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."

He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination.

"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."

He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts.

As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious.

You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed.

And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power.

You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot.

Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it!

Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:

Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)

Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))

Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)

Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)

Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)

Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)

Love Song (this makes them all cry)

Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)

National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)

Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)

Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl.

There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously,

"Y/N, don't."

You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."

Besides that, everything was great and chill.

It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered.

"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk.

"Yeah, what?"

"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?"

"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?

"Do you know where I can find him?"

You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy.

"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that.

He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy.

And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that.

"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."

Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....

P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight.

You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.

You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face.

"Lana or Nicki?"

"Lana."

"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."

He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."

This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh.

You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"

And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut.

He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing.

You cleared your throat.

"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."

The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".

"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"

You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did.

" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "

No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED.

"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him.

You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?

"Wait, Tommy -"

"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU.

"Stop what -"

"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."

"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."

He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time.

You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now.

"Tommy -"

"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you.

Spin. Spin. Spin.

"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"

And there it was.

And there you went.

He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham.

That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that.

Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end.

And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless.

You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters.

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x y/n #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #fanfiction #imagine #smut #x reader #oppenheimer #oppenheimer x reader

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f0point5 · 2 months

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i started watching season 5 of dts because a friend wants me to wait so we can watch season 6 together, and this is probably not a new take and something thats always talked about, but i really feel like lewis' original plan was to retire in 21' and winning the 8th title, i don't think he saw max winning at all

from the first two episodes he acts like the title was unfairly taken from him 😭😭 also just they way he sounds so done with the car and team i'm not surprised he moved to ferrari after his interviews for dts on the 2022 season

the ferrari move is for sure him trying to do something different with his legacy because having 8 titles didn't work out

Yeah, I said this at the time. He kept saying it wasn’t but it absolutely was. Every year since he’s come back like it’s a chore and I think that part of the resentment he’s has towards Toto, he’s like, “I shouldn’t even have to be here”.

He’s so entitled. I won’t spoil season 6 but..this continues. He really thinks that everything is his to lose, like his name is already on the trophy and they scrub it off if someone else happens to win. It’s such a British attitude. And that attitude is, why despite being a British citizen, I will never support a British sports team.

I think it’s sad that he’s keeping himself in the game out of what is essentially greed at this point. He doesn’t seem to enjoy it in the slightest. He’s broken so many records and achieved so much and it’s still not enough for him to the point where he’s shopped himself around for this fabled “ambassador” deal to keep his name in everyone’s mouth once he’s not racing? You really wonder if it’s because he has nothing in his life to retire to. You can’t tell me it has anything to do with the money. This move to Ferrari seems like the right one for him, they’re a team that stands on ceremony not business. I really wonder why they want him, I don’t think he’s a good brand ambassador for them at all, but they’ve got their plans clearly.

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leclerced · 5 months

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Ok ok but hear me out. Angel is obssesed with Lando and Oscar but if one person can catch her eye is Seb.

We all know that Seb and Lewis are friends and him and Charles used to be teamates and ofc Angel and them are really close so they can introduce her to him and when girly sees him she is just stunned because who is that man and why is he so handsome?

totes brainrotted oopsies idek if this is good i just saw seb.

we’ve talked about how she’s not interested in anyone else unless they’re complimenting her in some way but imagine her meeting him in suzuka ?? he’s being such a grid dad to everyone and he’s got her attention captured even before they’ve met, but even moreso after he makes his way over and introduces himself. he’s joking with mark on his watch over. lando and oscar notice her staring and tease her for it, saying she already has two boyfriends, why does she look like she wants a third?? and she’s telling them to shut up because he’s coming over!!

seb is telling them about his project and the plans for it and he notices her staring while he’s talking about bees and jokes, “you like bees?” because she’s a genius and she talks when she’s nervous, she starts spouting bee facts. she’s like “oh yeah i do! did you know that when a hornet invades the hive of the asian honeybee, hundreds of bees swarm it and create what’s called a heat ball? asian honey bees can withstand a heat up to 118 degrees fahrenheit and the hornet can only withstand up to 115 degrees fahrenheit so they heat it up to 117 degrees and literally cook the hornet alive.” and seb is staring in shock, because he certainly did not know that asian honeybees literally cook invaders alive. he jokes, “is that your way of flirting?”

she feels herself burn alive from the inside out, oscar’s laughing and rubbing her back because he enjoys watching her squirm. lando’s just like “no she just reads science articles all day. it’s kind of her thing. ask her about anything.” and then seb gets a kick out of asking her about obscure topics and having her recount and article she once read, a wikipedia rabbit hole she went down, all while blushing and trying her best not to fawn over him for some unknown reason. she’s never felt that way about anyone but oscar and lando so she’s just thinking about how pretty she is while she recites facts she memorized for him, and he’s telling her how impressive it is and she’s blushing more and spouting more facts because she doesn’t know what else she should say. i almost wanna say seb calls her a good girl but if he did that i think she would short circuit because that’s what oscar and lando call her in bed.

when they’re back at the hotel alone, she’s a little irritated because she feels like she embarrassed herself, like she just went into a daze when he came over and she can barely remember anything other than how pretty he was. she can’t even remember what she said to him specifically, she remembers everything he said to her but she was just blabbering facts her knew on autopilot. then oscar’s saying seb told him she’s the most endearing person he’s ever met and she’s like “i don’t know whats wrong with me but i can’t stop thinking about him. no offense. don’t say he likes me because it does something to me.”

oscar asks what she means and she can’t answer so he takes a wild guess and asks, “angel, do you wanna fuck seb?” and she’s so embarrassed because that thought hadn’t occurred to her once. she just kept thinking he’s attractive, how much she liked his voice and his eyes and his hands and how attentive he was even though he probably had things to go do for the bees. even his bee project apparently turned her on whens he thought about it now.

as soon as the words leave oscar’s mouth she’s hit by the realization that that’s exactly what’s gotten her all wound up but she’d never wanted anyone else like that, just them, so it confuses her. then once she realizes thats it, she feels bad. and then they’re encouraging it and teasing her, asking what about seb got her so wet. she’s frozen underneath them as they taunt her, asking if it was him calling her smart, his pretty eyes. she could never look seb in the eyes again because they would absolutely ruin her, constantly telling her to imagine it’s seb touching her, tasting her, fucking her. she wouldn’t be able to look at him or hear his name without imagining those things.

#ask #anon #angel au

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hockeyshmockey · 2 years

Text

Max Verstappen- Wing Men

summary: the moment when max has a crush and the paddock tries to help wing man

warnings: I used this years grid but im going with a more 2021 season vibe since I can use the fia gala as an event :)

wc: 2.3k

“Hello,” Max greeted as he walked into the room where the drivers would be gathering to participate in some of the F1 media challenges for the upcoming season.

“Hey Max,” Scott, one of the cameramen from the previous year greeted. “Good off season?”

The men spoke for a moment about their respective time ‘away’ from the track. “Will Jane be joining us?” Max looked around for the woman who usually directed these challenges.

“Ah, no. Jane moved to a HQ based job. This season you’ll be working with Amelia, she’s been working with the team for a few years.”

Max nodded but internally was a little annoyed. He liked routine, and he always felt more comfortable with people he knew. He just hoped Amelia lived up to his expectations or else he could start to look like Kimi.

“Ah, here she is now,” Scott nodded towards the door. Max turned around and let his eyes travel up and down the woman coming through the door. She couldn’t have been more than 5′6, even with the massive pointed heels on her feet.

“So sorry guys, I got caught up in brainstorming,” Amelia gave them a breathless grin. “Hi Max, it’s great to meet you. Heard great things.”

“I am assuming you have been lied to,” he smirked as he shook the hand she offered, Amelia laughing at his joke.

“I’ve seen the out takes of these games, you can’t be that bad,” she winked as she went to move to the table next to the camera and sat her notebook down. “I don’t want to take up more of your time than necessary, so we can get started if you like?”

Max found himself slightly disappointed he didn’t get to talk with her more before it turned to work, nodding as Amelia began to tell him about today’s challenges. The woman directed the driver through a geography challenge and then an either or challenge focused on the US.

“Ok Max, thats it for today,” the woman stood back up and approached him. “this season we have decided to space out the challenges across different races, so you’ll get to see some more of me yet.”

“I definitely will not be complaining about that,” he flirted lightly, enjoying the way she blushed before offering him a sweet goodbye. He was lost in his head a bit when he ran into a body in the hall.

“Oi, watch where you’re going there Maximillian,” Daniel laughed as the blonde shook his head before hugging the Australian.

“Sorry man, my head was a million miles away,” the dutch man rubbed a hand across his face while Daniel looked on in confusion.

“No offense man, but I didn’t think older women were your type. Jane could be your mum-”

“It’s not Jane you idiot,” Max huffed, looking over his shoulder to make sure Amelia wasn’t lurking. “There is a new host this year. Her name is Amelia.”

“Oh my god,” Daniel squealed. “You have a crush!”

By the end of the drivers heading to grill the grid, every driver knew about Max’s attraction to Amelia. Daniel had told Lando, who had told Carlos and George, who in turn had told Charles, Checo and Lewis, who then had exposed him to Pierre, Fernando and Valterri, then off to Yuki and Lewis, who told Seb and Zhou, who told Mick and Esteban, who told Lance, Nicky and Alex.

So yeah. The whole grid knew.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Hello Amelia,” Daniel drawled out as he ran into the younger woman in the paddock for the next GP she was attending for challenges.

“Hi Daniel!” She smiled up at him, fitted out in a bright pink blazer and short set with another pair of killer heels.

“Wow, Max had told me you looked stunning today, but he didn’t give you enough credit,” Daniel smirked.

“He did?” The girl asked, but Daniel had already walked away whistling.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hello, hello,” Amelia greeted as she walked into the room where both Max and Checo were sitting for this weekends content challenge. The two were being quizzed this day about their F1 knowledge.

“Amelia!” Checo cheered, causing Max to nudge his teammate. He wasn’t sure how (actually he was) but apparently the whole grid knew he thought Amelia was stunning. And as he had gotten to know her better, he had learned she had an amazing personality to boot.

“Hi Sergio,” the woman laughed, accepting the hug he stood to offer her. Max realized the opportunity Checo was giving him, so didn’t hesitate to stand to embrace her next.

“Hi Max,” she tried to keep her voice normal, but knew it came out breathy as the man wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You smell nice,” Max commented absentmindedly as he pulled back, blushing as Amelia thanked him.

grid boys 2022

checo

max just told amelia she smelled nice

lando

MATE HAHA

daniel

this is gold

this is why he needs our help

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Well look who it is,” Amelia was brought out of her sleepy haze at a booming voice over her shoulder. She smiled softly when she turned to see Daniel and Max approaching her in the aisles of the corner shop near her hotel for the Belgium Gran Prix.

“Hi boys,” she offered the both of them hugs.

“You’re looking short today,” Daniel joked, looking down at the sandals she was wearing rather than her normal heels.

“Yep, just wanted to pop over for some meds. No need for heels,” she giggled.

“You feeling alright?” Max peered down at her in concern.

“Ah yes, just coming off of a nasty cold, and with the jet lag I just needed something to help me sleep,” she held up the ZQuil in her hand.

“Well, hey listen, I have to run,” Daniel rushed out suddenly. Max and Amelia looking at him in confusion. “But Max, you make sure our Amelia gets home safely, ok? Bye!” With that, the brunette literally skipped out of the store.

“He is an odd one,” Amelia remarked with a laugh, Max joining in. “But seriously, don’t worry about walking me back. I’m a big girl, I can make it.”

“No, I want to!” he protested. “Plus I want to hear about your summer break.” Amelia smiled softly before asking if he was ready, and heading to the register.

The two turned the five minute walk to her hotel, into a twenty minute walk. Talking about what they had both been up to and catching up on the last few weeks.

“This is me,” Amelia nodded to the Holiday Inn behind them. “Thanks so much for walking me back, you are too sweet.”

“Any time,” he grinned. “And let me know if you need anything if you’re not feeling better. Can I give you my number?”

“Very sly Verstappen,” she smirked as she pulled out her phone and handed it over. Once she returned it, the blonde wrapped her in a warm hug that bordered on too long, before they broke apart and went their separate ways.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“Hi Max,” Amelia greeted as she ran into the man walking into the paddock for the Dutch GP weekend.

“Amelia!” he grinned, turning around to wrap her in a hug. “Good to see you!”

Max had of course forgotten both Bradley, his sister and his mother were with him. “Amelia,” he guided her around with a hand on the small of her back to his smirking sister and Bradley, and his angel of a mother. “This is Bradley my trainer, my sister Victoria, and my mother Sophie.”

Amelie darted forward to greet all of them with a warm smile. “It is so lovely to meet you all. Are you excited for the weekend?”

The group of them turned and started to walk into the paddock as the entrance was beginning to get a little busy. Max watched with a smile as Amelia chatted with his mother and sister about the weekend, and her work.

“Mate,” Bradley elbowed him. “You look so lovestruck right now.”

Max grumbled at his friend, but his frown remained when he realized the time had come for Amelia to split ways from them.

“Well this is me,” the woman grinned, gesturing over her shoulder to the media area. “It was so amazing to meet you all!”

“Oh you too darling,” Sophie leaned over to hug the woman. “You must come see us in Monaco one day.”

Max almost rolled his eyes as his sister agreed, the two women clearly already conspiring. “That would be amazing,” Amelia smiled gently. “Thanks for the escort,” she turned to Max with a teasing grin, the blonde leaning down to hug her again.

“Had to make sure you found your way,” he joked. “See you later?”

The girl nodder, waving to the group before heading into the glass building. As soon as the doors closed, his three companions were on top of him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Max Vestappen, World Champion,” Amelia beamed at the sweaty man stood across from her. “Let me just say congrats. This is well deserved.”

Max thanked her, the smile never fading as she asked him a few questions before eventually waving the camera off. As soon as the camera was off, she bounded over and wrapped the blonde in a tight hug.

“What a season Max,” the two rocked back and forth before pulling away slightly, but keeping their hands on each other. “It was truly a pleasure to watch and be a part of it.”

“I think you must be my good luck charm,” Max smirked, ignoring the cat call from Daniel over his shoulder.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Amelia entered the large ball room in an expensive Monaco hotel with nerves bubbling in her belly. Before this year, she had never made the invite list for the FIA Gala. But this year with her new role, she had landed a spot.

Coming without her team was terrifying. The woman felt like she had spent the season building a good rapport with many of the drivers and principals, but it still would have felt better to have a friend here to arrive with. Even though Max had offered to arrive with her himself, she knew he had other duties to attend to.

Max was standing with a large group of drivers when he saw Amelia arrive. She was in a stunning gown, her hair pulled back to show off her shoulders and neck.

“And we have lost Max for the night,” Charles laughed with his hand around his girlfriends waist, the brunette quirking an eyebrow in question. “Oh, Max is in love with one of the women who run the F1 media challenges.”

“Oh,” she gasped, following everyone’s look to Amelia. “Someone should go get her, she looks lost.”

“I can-”

Max’s reply was lost as Pierre and Yuki began to speedwalk towards the woman. “This is going to be a disaster,” he groaned, Daniel laughing hysterically as Max turned to the bartender to order another drink.

“Amelia!” Yuki practically yelled as he approached with his team mate, the woman offering them both a smile.

“Hi boys!” she leaned in to give them both a hug. “It is wonderful to see you. You both look dashing.”

“You know who is really dashing,” Pierre smirked as he offered her his arm and began to lead her to where they had come from. “Max.”

“Oh is he,” Amelie giggled.

“He is,” Yuki piped up as they got closer to the other drivers, including the man in question. “And look at him in a bowtie?”

“He does look good in a bowtie,” Amelia commented absentmindedly as they joined the group, everyone offering her hellos. She was introduced to a few girlfriends she hadn’t met yet, and the women found themselves chatting over their getting ready process compared to the men.

“I heard you think I look good in a bowtie,” Max asked the woman later that night, after dinner when he had gotten the nerve to ask her to dance.

“Oh my gosh,” Amelia laughed. “Do you really need me to boost your ego?”

“Nope,” he smirked. “But let me boost yours. You are the most beautiful woman here tonight.” The girl blushed, turning her head into Max’s shoulder to ignore his piercing gaze. “Will you take a walk with me?”

When she agreed, the two headed out of the large double doors leading to a garden. “So, what are this off season’s plans?” Amelia asked after a moment of silence.

Before Max answered, he draped his tux jacket over Amelia’s shoulders, the woman smiling softly before wrapping her arm around his own to huddle together as they walked.

“Definitely see my family, get some training in,” he listed off. “I would also really like to take you on a date.”

That night, Max returned home to his apartment with a bright smile, hours after the gala ended. He and Amelia had ended up getting some late night food, and he had dropped her off at her hotel with plans to see each other in a week. He toed his shoes off and went to head right to his bedroom when he heard a noise in the living room.

Max had to hold back his laughter at the sight in front of him. Daniel was taking up his whole couch with Jimmy asleep on his chest. Yuki was curled up on a love seat, with Pierre on a pile of pillows on the floor. Finally, Lando was sleeping in the single seater, with Sassy literally curled up on his face.

Max took a photo and sent it to Amelia.

this what I got home to..... nice wing men I guess

As he laid down he got a response.

yeah if those were your actual wingmen you would be SOL... even with me

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen fluff #f1 #f1 driver #f1 driver imagine #f1 drivers #f1 driver imagines #formula one #formula one imagine #formula 1 driver #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 driver imagine #formula one driver #formula one driver imagine #imagine #racing #driver imagine

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someone-always-cares · 17 days

Text

chapter 5, page 73

first - previous - next

[image description: an sac webcomic page. "aw, don't give me that look, it;s just a job. sure it's unethical, but do you have any idea how expensive london is? honestly taking the piss." schmidt says, getting out of her chair. "and hey, even if he changes his mind, i have a few loyal clients in mind" lewis sits there mostly off screen only visible by his arm on the side of the panel, the panels moving up towards his face as schmidt walks closer. "but honestly, after all this?" they say moving towards him, wide eyes and smiling with what looks like excitement. "seeing hope and blood alike drain from your eyes?" she says, close enough that she can gently brush aside a lock of lewis's hair away from his crying face. "i won't need any payment for that" the last panel, largest but behind the previous and around two, focuses on a close up of the hanging light bulb, now off and dark. end id]

lights out! but is it literally the light bulb or a fade to black? find out next week

book update: progress on readying chapter 2's pages for print is going well! almost done. still havent decided what to do for a book cover though but thats a me problem. this is your reminder that if you make comics and at any point even consider printing them: make sure your pages are the right size! even if you think "oh yeah i made sure they are": check again. also save and back up your works! thats a good tip for everyone. i'm 80% sure ive said that before but i'll do it again!

#sac #someone always cares #webcomic #webcomics #comic

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leosxrealm · 3 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/leosxrealm/741425875076186112/why-do-i-feel-like-lewis-is-retiring-soon-hes?source=share

Why do u think that

honestly that just popped in my head when i first saw the rumors/announcements

and i feel like i should give some kind of warnings here - i’m fairly new to f1 (yes leo we know you’ve mentioned that 1000s of times) but i have seen bits and pieces of the f1 world here and there before. so i might be completely wrong about literally everything

moving on🗣️

i started officially following and watching f1 since last september/october, and i’ve always thought lewis looked kind of lonely?

he doesn’t have a lot of friends on the grid. he is civil with his fellow drivers but that doesn’t mean he considers them a friend (imo)

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have friends at all. he does have friends outside of f1 but due to him traveling sm, he doesn’t get to meet them often.

both his friends on the grid (seb and nico) are retired. (and other issues that i’m guessing we all know)

also the reason he doesn’t have a lot of friends might be because of his “introverted” personality (he doesn’t interact with drivers a lot or participate in conversations)

“introverted” in brackets bc it might be forced (?)

this is from an article i was reading

and it just might be because all other f1 drivers (except alonso) have met as kids at some point in their life (he doesn’t get along with alonso so he isn’t really left with a lot of options)

and i’m pretty sure these were rumors (about lewis wanting to quit after the 2021 season) but you can’t help but think if there’s a possibility they might be true

i think (this is just my opinion don’t come after me) that lewis did want to quit after 2021, we all know he ain’t a quitter so he gave f1 and mercedes another chance, but with max/red bull domination, he doesn’t see much hope for himself, of him winning another title

mercedes hasn’t been the same like it was in the 2010s neither have ferrari

makes you question why would lewis wanna go to a team that hasn’t been doing good lately, and then lewis posted on instagram with that caption “chance to fulfill another childhood dream. driving in ferrari red.”

and welp, he can only do that when he’s still on the grid

also the fact that he’s 39 and he just might think that his time’s almost over. he’s gonna be 40 in 2025 by the time he joins ferrari

“bUt aLoNsO iS sTiLL dRiViNg” he’s not alonso. seb retired in his 30s, lewis might wanna do it now

lewis has signed a multi-year contract with ferrari and i think he might stay till 2026/2027 to check out the new team (audi) and then leave

and yeah all that stuff makes me think that lewis might be leaving soon </3

racing might be the only thing lewis has known and i’ve only known racing with lewis in it. ngl, i might not be his biggest fan but i’ll miss him

also such a random and probably mean thing to say but i don’t think red is lewis’ colour. or maybe i’m just too used to seeing him in merc colours :(

side note: my inbox is open for discussion just don’t be rude :]

that’s all i have to say

“tHaTs aLL i hAvE tO sAy” proceeds to write an entire essay

#leo is a yapper confirmed #also alonso being 40+ means he prolly gonna retire soon😭#formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #mercedes #mercedes formula one #leo’s nonsense

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russilton · 5 months

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Oh Val Alex and Dan would definitely the ones that tease George the most. Alex and Val mentioning all the times they have caught George staring at Lewis and George just turning into a blushing mess and then Val taking a bit of pity and turning the tables on Lewis and talking about all the times he caught Lewis staring at George. Val and Alex being the victims of Lewis and George’s pining and love in general.

Val 🤝 Alex

‘Would you two fuckin stop it club’

An absolute favourite trope of mine, as is val eventually going soft on George. Like yeah thats his scrawny annoying junior driver who has never understood the phrase ‘chill out’, but George trusts him, and god help him val does understand George’s drive and passion. He listens earnestly to val’s advice and Val knows what it’s like to be in Williams. He knows what it’s like to love Lewis Hamilton, albeit not in quite the way George does.

And good lord did val catch Lewis staring, a lot. If thats what makes him happy, valtteri wants that. Alex wants that for George too, but he and George grew up together, hes had to hear far more details of George’s infatuation than Val did of Lewis’, so he reserves the right to tease the shit out of George for it

#asks #anonymous #merc trio my beloved #mark talks britcedes

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lizablackthorn · 3 months

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I wanna talk about this whole Lewis Hamilton going to ferrari situation. (No one asked but i want to)

First of all this both going to be good and bad. Some people are going to be happy and some people won’t. But i really wanna start with if Lewis didn’t lost his faith and believe into mercedes he would never leave the team. He dominated and win with mercedes for 8 years.(yes i’m counting the nico championship) It was a whole different era. It’s making me sad that this is how it’s going to end for Lewis and Mercedes. Because i really don’t think they’re going to end in the best terms. But let’s think for a second. For the past 2 years mercedes gave him a complete shitbox. They didn’t listen his opinions,advices. For some podiums in 2023 they didn’t even come to celebrate with lewis. So i’m sad but i will support whatever he does.

If we come to the why he’s now choosing ferrari part. For me there’s 2 options. First of all Lewis Hamilton is a 7 time world champion and i don’t think that he’s leaving Mercedes (also we know what mercedes means to him and his meaning to mercedes) for little things. That means he believes in Ferrari. He saw something in ferrari (i Really really hope that this is the option). And the second one is he’s much more closer to retirement and he wants to spend his last years in red(first angela left now bono i’ve never been more scared in my life)Because everyone knows what ferrari means to f1. (Everybody is a ferrari fan even if you go the mercedes guys and they say yeah mercedes is the greatest brand in the world they’re ferrari fans) and which means that he doesn’t mind Charles being the first driver for ferrari. And be a mentor to him.

And that brings us the dynamic and relationship between Charles and Lewis. They both respect each other and love each other. Charles loves someone he’s able to fight,challenge and learn somethings from as a teammate(as we known from the Seb) also this situation might look like the Seb one. Because some of their fans were hating the opposite site. Trying to make them look like a villain but we all know that wasn’t the situation. Also Charles fans and Lewis fans are both very loud(and some of them extremely toxic) and if they both talk to each other decided together the decision i don’t think it’s going to be a huge problem. I know some of you are going the say but brocedes”they were childhood friends” yes they were (Charles and Lewis are gonna fight with each other on the race because both of them are great drivers) but they both grown out so much. So i don’t really think that is gonna be a huge problem(not the fanbase though thats gonna be huge mess)

If we come to the Ferrari-Lewis dynamic. That’s a bit more complicated. If we look at to the ferrari’s policy or the past years it’s way more different from the lewis. Lewis don’t scare to raise his voice. He freely talks about the things he like. Whatever he wants to do and say. But i also really don’t think that Lewis would gave up on them. So if they both come to an agreement and Lewis accept it we have no choice but to wait and see.

So if i’m going to summarize it. I’m in the end happy with this because i trust both Lewis and Charles. And i will support whatever they do. But the thing i don’t trust is ferrari in terms of..well everything. But i really wanna believe that we’re going to win the championship(maybe not this year) and Ferrari made a rocketship. Praying and opened my hands for ferrari coming to its senses

#because if ferrari doesn’t come to his terms i’m going to have to suffer twice as much #also please if you have any other opinions on this send it to me and kets talk about it #f1 #charles leclerc #f1blr #f1edit #f1 fandom #f1 ferrari #ferrari #lewis hamilton #chewis #1644 #lewis hamilton to ferrari

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