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halsteadlover · 3 months

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𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: Lando always has a hard time trying to keep his hands off you, not even while attending an important event.

• Warnings: dirty talking, lots of swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), semi public sex.

• Word count: 2453.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. This was supposed to be like a 700 words piece but I’m incapable to write short fics but y’all know this by now lmao. I hope you like this piece, I was inspired to write for Lando so here it is. Please comment, like and reblog, it’d be amazing ❤️ Thank you for your support xx

You were going crazy.

His hand continued to caress your exposed thighs beneath the table, his expert fingers drawing imaginary circles on your hot skin.

They went up along your inner thigh, until they almost caressed your private parts, but before touching you as you desired, his fingers descended back down, leaving you even more irritated and lustful than before.

Asshole.

“God I want you so much baby, you have no idea how much I want to tear this dress off of you,” he whispered in your ear so sensually it made your insides explode, causing a rush of shivers down your spine and made you clench your legs.

“I can’t stop thinking about how wet you must be right now, how easily you’d suck my dick in your sweet little cunt. I’m so hard just thinking about it.” He gave a cast kiss on your flushed cheek, making you choke on the champagne you were drinking and gaining weird and worried looks from the people around the table.

Holy fuck.

You were in fact at the annual FIA gala, the event swarming with famous people, all the drivers with their respective partners but even so Lando didn’t seem to care less.

He was only focused on you, forgetting his surroundings.

He needed to touch you, always, constantly. He needed to feel you, to always have a hand on your body.

And how could anyone blame him?

Lando couldn’t normally keep his hormones at bay but seeing you in that damn dress with that slit, he could barely function and take his eyes off of you. He pretended to have a conversation with Carlos, but in reality he wasn’t listening to a single word his teammate was saying, being too focused on keeping his hard dick at bay.

He tried to hold back the smirk that threatened to appear on his face when you squeezed your thighs together, trapping his hand between them and preventing him from moving it.

“Babe you okay?” He murmured in your ear at one point, turning his attention towards you. He always had that damn smile on his face, that smirk so damn sexy you wanted nothing more than to get on your knees under the table and not care about anything else.

“Lando, you’re driving me crazy. Stop it,” you retorted through gritted teeth, in a low voice so that no one at the table would hear what you were talking about with your boyfriend.

Lando chuckled and removed the hand he had on your thigh and caressed your face with it, then resting it on your partially bare back. “But I’m not doing anything princess.”

“Oh you know damn well what you’re doing and you have to stop,” you repeated, but in the meantime feeling your cheeks burning and the heat running through your body.

Had the temperatures suddenly risen?

Or were you just horny?

Probably the second option.

“I can’t help it princess, you look so fucking hot in this dress,” he whispered, making you smile and your pussy clench at the same time.

And the fact he looked so damn sexy in that suit, so good you just wanted to rip his clothes with your teeth didn’t help make things particularly easy. If Lando struggled not to constantly touch you, you weren’t so different. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t resist him even if you tried and it certainly wasn’t your fault.

It was his fault sex oozed from every single fucking pore of his body.

“I’m already hard as rock right now, you’re not helping if you keep looking at me like that.” His voice caught your attention again, not realizing you were mesmerized by looking at him and running your hungry eyes over his body.

“I’m not looking at you in any way baby, you just look very, very handsome in this outfit.” You seductively battled your lashes. You printed a kiss on his cheek, making your lips slight caress his earlobe. “And very, very fuckable.”

“Fucking hell,” he breathed out, about to combust.

You then placed a hand on his cheek, eagerly wanting to have some physical contact with him It didn’t matter if it was an arm, a hand, or his face, you needed to touch him. His skin was particularly hot and the way his pupils were dilated told you to everything you needed to know.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he admonished you, even though he didn’t want you to stop at all, he just wanted to avoid fucking you on that table in front of everyone.

“Too bad baby, two can play this game.” The little smirk on your painted lips made his legs go numb and it was enough for you to give him a small kiss on the lips, innocent and apparently chaste, to make him completely lose his mind.

“You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you right here and now.” He wet his lips with his tongue, alternating his gaze between your eyes and mouth.

You nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe I do want you to fuck me right here and now.”

This marked the breaking point for Lando, who at that point lost all judgment and didn’t care that the awards ceremony was about to begin.

“Meet me in the bathroom.” Was all he said before getting up and walking away without even giving you time to respond. You tried to suppress a giggle, every cell in your body twitching in anticipation.

“Woah where is Lando going so fast?” Carlos had asked, turning to you with a confused expression.

“In the bathroom, I think all the water he drank is having an effect,” you replied, meanwhile thinking of an excuse to get up from the table too.

“I’m going to get something to drink.” It was the first thing that crossed your mind, not caring about the confused looks of the others at the table.

“How much you wanna bet they’re gonna fuck in the bathroom?” Daniel announced, sparking laughter from everyone on the table. “God those two go on like rabbits, it’s embarrassing.”

But there was nothing closer to the truth than what Daniel said. You and Lando wanted each other a lot, it was no secret, and your sex life was more than active and intense.

That’s why, you found yourself pressed against the men’s bathroom sink, the door locked and Lando’ body pressed against yours as the two of you kissed with hunger and passion.

His hands, now resting on your cheeks, began to wander down your body, squeezing your breasts, your hips, his fingers pressed deep into your skin.

“Fuck I want you so bad baby,” you murmured as you broke away to take a breath. But he didn’t leave you any respite, his lips had started licking and nibbling your neck, in that precise point where he knew it drove you crazy.

“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth as you began palming the crotch of his pants, feeling him rock hard under your hand.

“Already so hard for me huh?” You whispered sensually, sighing as you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down enough to release his dick.

“Darling I’ve been hard for you since I saw you in this damn dress.” He cupped his hands over your breasts, squeezing and groping them over your dress, making you sigh. He slipped the straps of your dress revealing and you felt him twitch in your hand as you jerked him off, his eyes looking at you with hunger and desperation. “I’m always so hard for you. God you’re gorgeous.”

“Fuck yes…” He moaned loudly and you covered his mouth with your free hand.

“Shh you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you my love?”.

He slightly shook his head, feeling like he was already at his limit just from the way you were looking at him. You removed your hand and he placed his on your face, looking straight into your eyes as your hand continued to move up and down on his dick.

“That’s my good boy.”

He almost came from that sentence alone.

His thumb traced the outline of your lips with which you wasted no time and wrapped them around his digit, always keeping your eyes on him. His gaze was fixed on your lips, the way your cheeks hollowed out to suck on his thumb and you knew where his mind was wandering.

He almost had a heart attack when he saw you kneel in front of him, a smile printed on your lips now devoid of any trace of lipstick and lip gloss.

A loud moan escaped his lips when you stuck your tongue out and traced a long line along his shaft, starting from the base up to the tip where you paused for a few moments while you tasted the saltiness of the precum.

“Shit…” He panted like he was running a marathon, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Stop teasing me.”

“Oh you mean like you did all night?” I retorted with sassy.

“Please baby, please… I need this pretty little mouth…” He begged you, stroking your no longer styled hair with one hand. “I need to fuck this mouth so bad…”

“You look so cute when you beg so desperately for me darling.” You took his dick completely into your mouth, leaving him no room for response and completely taking the air and breath out of his lungs.

He threw his head back, trying to concentrate on not letting himself get too loud since you were still in a public bathroom. But it was hard, so damn hard when your mouth took him so perfectly, when your lips kept sliding back and forth, up and down on his hard dick.

“Shit, shit, fuck yes keep going… Oh yes just like that…” he groaned, gripping your hair in a fist and intensifying the movements of his hips. His tip kept hitting deep into your throat, making you gag and almost choke on it, your eyes watering.

“So pretty… My girl is so fucking pretty while she is on her knees taking me in her mouth so damn well…”

You continued to squeeze your legs with desire, hoping in some way to relieve the tension and desire that made you clench your pussy. Your eyes never left his face, thoroughly enjoying that feeling of being able to make him lose his mind in that way.

You felt immense enjoyment, a rush of euphoria flowed through your veins seeing his face contracted in pleasure, hearing those moans, sighs and pants that only you could give him, and even if he was fucking your mouth without mercy you could’ve even choked to death and you would’ve been the happiest woman in the world.

One of your hands was resting on his hairy bare thigh, your nails pressed into his skin while the other encircled the base of his dick, helping where your mouth couldn’t reach.

“Fuck baby your mouth feels like heaven… Oh my god…” he gasped. “You drive me crazy.”

Suddenly the sound of someone banging on the door startled both of you. You took advantage of that moment to catch your breath, but continued to slide your hand up and down his cock wet with your saliva.

“O-occupied!” Lando exclaimed, swallowing a groan and trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible while his eyes were fixed on you.

God you were so beautiful.

“Hurry up!” The voice replied from the other side of the door and you both breathed a sigh of relief when you heard footsteps walking away. You let out a laugh, but it was interrupted when you started licking his wet dick again, wrapping your lips around his particularly red and sensitive tip and focusing on it as you continued to pleasure him with your hand.

Lando swore he saw stars for a moment, letting out a particularly loud moan and feeling like he was going to explode at any moment. “Oh fuck yeah princess just like that…”

Without leaving you any escape, Lando pushed himself into your mouth again, keeping his grip on your hair, using you as if you were his own doll.

But you didn’t care, on the contrary, you loved the way he used you and always did what he wanted with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he groaned, moving his hips and making you gag on his dick again, too carried away by the pleasure and euphoria to be able to think clearly. You levered yourself on his thigh, your nails pressed so hard into his skin you feared for a moment you’d leave any permanent mark “Ah shit… I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming… Fuuuck.”

With one final forceful thrust, his hot, salty cum filled your mouth and you wasted no time swallowing it, not particularly enjoying the taste.

“Holy shit I think I’m gonna die,” he sighed in ecstasy, his mouth half open as he tried to catch his breath.

You giggled and started to get up when you felt his hands on your hips helping you to your feet and before you could do anything he kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. You immediately deepened the kiss, circling his neck and threading your hands into his hair, not being able to resist for a minute longer.

“You’re so fucking beautiful love, what do I have to do with you? You make me lose my mind,” he whispered against your lips, then losing himself for a moment looking at you. It wasn’t an exaggeration but you were truly breathtaking. Especially in that moment with your lips swollen due to the amazing blowjob you had just given him, your cheeks red and lined with mascara running from your eyes. God, he couldn’t wait to be buried deep inside you.

“For starters you could fuck me properly Mr Norris.”

He chuckled and you let out a disappointed sigh when he slightly pulled away from you, immediately feeling an empty, cold feeling inside you. He cleaned himself before putting his pants and underwear back on.

“How are you feeling my love? Was I too rough?” He then asked, cupping his hands over your face and removing the traces of mascara with his thumbs as best he could.

You shook your head. “Oh God no baby, it was amazing. You know I love it when you’re rough.”

He gave you a kiss on the lips, so sweet and in contrast to the words he was about to say. “Good baby because now we’re going home and I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for the next few days.”

And man, had he kept his promise.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16

Lando Norris tag list: @halsteadbrasil, @bwormie, @ssprayberrythings, @mynameisangeloflife, @lunepoesie

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fiapartridge · 2 months

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in the kitchen | nico hischier 💌🤍

nico hischier x reader

short blurb

summary: during a restless night of tossing and turning, nico finds you in the kitchen and eases your mind.

fia’s notes 💌: baby nico scored in the first period so i’m finally taking this out of my drafts! i’m still writing for my 600 celly, but i wanted to release this cuz i haven’t done anything w/ it yet!! (ALSO!! last day of taking requests for my celly! i’ll try to finish all my requests soon <3)

You were tossing and turning in bed, feeling restless. All you could think about was the project your boss gave you merely hours ago which she wanted done by afternoon of the following day, giving you only a couple more hours to complete it.

You groaned, slinging your legs over the sheets, quietly walking out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen, careful not to wake up Nico.

The room was dark as you flicked on the small light, a warm glow casting over the white kitchen. Placing a coffee pod in the machine, you waited for the coffee to drip down into the mug, praying that the loud sound wouldn't wake up the sleeping Nico that laid in your bedroom.

Your prayers failed as he stumbled tiredly out of your room and into the kitchen, yawning before he wrapped his arms around your torso, leaving kisses on your neck. "Coffee at midnight?"

You sighed, turning in his arms. He towered over your small figure, making you feel tiny, but safe. You loved how protected he made you feel, like nothing bad could ever happen with him around.

"I can't sleep," you said, laying your head against his chest and enveloping him in your arms. "My boss has been assigning me so many projects. I barely completed the last ones, and now I have a whole other one."

"What do you need me to do?"

You looked up at him, furrowing your brows in confusion. "What?"

"Whatever you need, I'm here. I don't want you to feel overwhelmed, Schatzi,” he said, planting a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. “I'm here. What do you need me to do?"

"Just...let's just stay like this for a bit," you whispered, feeling him hold you tighter as he pressed another kiss, this time, to the crown of your head. There were no objections, there were no pleads to come back to bed. He was right. Whatever you needed, Nico was there, and you loved him for that.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagines #new jersey devils #nj devils

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vroomvroomcircuit · 3 months

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Sometimes you need to be loud before it can be quiet

Summary: Everyone has their breaking point, even prefectly fine media trained drivers. Especially when people start asking dumb, sexist questions.

Pairing: driver!reader x f1!grid, but mostly Daniel Ricciardo and Max Verstappen, Lando and Charles have a bit of a guest appearing

Wordcount: 1.2k (she is a shy shorty, please be nice to her)

🏎Masterlist🏎 _________________________

“My next question is for (Y/N): What do you want to be perceived as?”

Everyone in the post race press conference halts in their movements. (Y/N) blinks once, twice before she clears her throat and gets closer to her microphone. “I’m sorry, can you please elaborate on that? I fear my English is failing me to comprehend what you just said.”

The reporter is not hesitating, jumping into his explanation right away, as if he had chosen the words he wanted to say beforehand. “Well, you participate in a male dominated sport, being currently the only female on the grid line up. You are never seen in typically female clothing. You even wore a suit to the last FIA gala. We have yet to see you in makeup outside of festivities. That’s why I am asking what you want to be perceived as. A man? A woman? Or something in-between?”

Silence has never been so loud. Nobody really knows how to respond to such an audacity.

(Y/N) pulls her microphone another bit closer before murmuring into it: “I rather be not perceived at all. Thank you for the question, I wanted to clear that bit up for quite some time now.”

Her answer brought a booming laughter out of the one and only Daniel Ricciardo, effectively breaking that spell of awkwardness that has been cast over the room by Mr Audacity. Everyone relaxes and joins in the laughter.

As the media representative is about to call onto the next journalist, Max asks a question. “Can we all answer this? Because I want to make it clear, I identify as a problem and want to be perceived as that.”

“Yeah”, Daniel interjects,”of course you do. I want to be perceived as a menace to human kind, please. What about you, Lando?”

“Number 1 Fish Hater, certified and trademarked already,” he answers with a cheeky smile.

Charles breathes “I’m a hot mess” into his microphone before the media representative is able to call onto the next person.

The following race weekend the drivers stand in the media pits with their PR managers, hopping from interviewer to interviewer like at a speed dating event.

“-overall I would say we have a good pace. I’m confident in the team to help us through this race in spite of the unpredictable weather conditions this weekend.” (Y/N)’s answers the usual questions that are thrown at her after sessions.

The journalist smiles at her. “I am sure of that. Now, onto my last question: Last week you have been asked what you want to be perceived as and you never really answered that. Why is that?”

(Y/N) throws a not amused look towards the woman. “I didn’t feel like it. I didn’t want to answer a question that is just a poorly disguised attack towards my femininity. I can like fast cars and dress however I want without having to answer something like that. I’m secure enough in my own gender identity as a woman to be able to express myself in all the ways I want without having my actions impede on my identity or expression of my gender. I will put on a dress when I feel like it, I will get the brushes out for a glam makeup when it is convenient for me and I don’t have to do ‘typically female’ things just to please the public opinion.

Instead of going around and judging, just work on why you have this urge to comment on my expression of gender in the first place, because your insecurities surrounding my gender don’t look cute on you.”

After that (Y/N) is practically dragged away from the media pit by her PR manager, who probably already has a headache thinking about the mess that will follow on social media and certain online magazines.

But the few drivers who stood around them, having media duties to follow themselves, just stared impressed and with deep respect after the young woman. She usually is softer spoken and obviously went through bootcamp media training. This was the first time they witnessed speaking her true mind in an interview.

Back in her driver's room, where she gets ready for the debrief, (Y/N) realizes the kind of mistake she just made.

Her little outburst will definitely get more of a reaction than it would if a Max Verstappen would have said something along these lines.

Before her inner eye she sees the headlines. Something about women being too emotional for motorsports. Her being too young, too hot headed, too much of everything and somehow not enough of everything.

The team will replace her, the negative PR not leaving them any other choice. The pressure on them is too much, they already took a big chance on her by giving the driver a seat in Formula 1 in the first place.

With the news of her sudden contract ending, at least one news outlet will write “The little experiment failed”, paving an even more difficult path for other women trying to prove themselves in motorsports.

And all that just because she wasn’t able to let this stupid question roll right off her back.

A sudden knock on her door breaks (Y/N) free from her downward spiral of thoughts. Max enters the room with Daniel on his tail. “This was amazing. How you told this interviewer off on life camera? And her face? After you went out, we just had to clap. It was so cool. You were so right, too. I’m so proud you finally spoke your mind. The audacity of these people.”

It seems like Max doesn’t need to breathe, judging from his rant.

Daniel has a much softer approach. He puts a hand on her shoulder, making her look up at him. “I hope you know that you had to say that back there. Even if you are ‘only’ a rookie this season, the questions you got the last couple of weeks were anything but ok or nice. Sometimes you need to be loud before it can be quiet.”

(Y/N) shoots him a thankful smile, squeezing the hand on her shoulder with her own. “You are right. It was just a bit overwhelming at first. But I can see the appeal now. I think I have to take a few classes with Max, because the concept of saying what you think got a new fan and that’s me. It’s the best thing I have done in the context of handling media duties.”

“No, you won’t do that”, (Y/N)’s PR manager stands in the doorway, probably to fetch her for the debrief. “In this case it was a good thing to do. Important, too, of course. The fans are eating this up on social media. They already made edits with the clips. But I don’t get paid what Max’ or Lando’s managers get, so you will return to your media trained good girl roots.” With that (Y/N) gets pulled out of the room by her. Max throws her a subtle nod, to which she smiles.

Sometimes you need to be more than the good girl, especially if it’s for your own sake. Who knows, maybe this is the beginning of the story of another media-nightmare-driver.

#you can see exactly where I started to scramble for plot haha #f1 x reader #f1 x driver!reader #f1 x female!reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x driver!reader #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo x driver reader #x driver!reader #x female!reader #x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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norrisleclercf1 · 11 months

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Forbidden

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x FIA!Reader

Rating: R

Warnings: major age gap, fia, SMUT, angst, fluff, jealous/possessive Daniel, Daniel sabotages your potential relationships, p in v, wrap before you tap, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), etc.

Requested: Yes/No

Requests: One & Two

Words: 3.4 K

A/N: I’ve been feed with this, now to rot your brain with it! Also I couldn't do both endings since they were both different, so I mixed them as best I could.

Working with the FIA and dating a driver secretly would never work. To you, you never questioned your love for Daniel. He made you see stars, treated you like a queen, and never made you feel ashamed of your job or age.

Having been together for 2 years, it was filled with secret kisses, touches, and stolen looks. It was hard to not be out in the open, especially when sometimes you fell used. The horrible pit in your stomach would hit you when you woke after your nights together, and he wouldn't be there. Not a note, nothing. He disappears before you wake.

He left a trail of hurt and disgust in his storm, trying to figure out if this was between you two was love or the imagination of love. Trapped in the shadows of sneaking around. A flurry of adrenaline and bad choices. You'd always say it would be the last time, but tattooed hands and intoxicating kisses pull you back in every time. It was a merry-go-round of disgust and ecstasy you couldn't escape.

"Enough." You whimper, skin bruised, lips raw from how he pulled you apart. Piece by piece, he broke your surface more and more. "Why?" He groans, biting your neck, causing you to whimper in pain, pulling his attention. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He whispers because, god forbid, someone heard the two of you in the privacy of your hotel room.

"Just.....just." Biting your lip, you hiss at the burn. "Stay with me?" It was a soft plead, not even something he could ignore. Daniel smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. Hands block his attempt as he stares at you, annoyed. "No, not like this, Daniel. Lay with me. For the night. No sex." Daniel's eyes soften, seeing the raw emotions all over your face, and he drops his head.

Daniel knew what had been happening wasn't right, not you. You turned into a form of escape, a dreamlike place that never asked for much. At that time, he forgot how young you are compared to him. How this relationship is viewed through naive eyes. "Y/n," He stops, throat tight as he watches your eyes grow wide with hope. Hope he'd love you the way you deserve.

"Let's just sleep." A breathtaking smile graces your lips, setting his heart pounding in his chest, trying to ignore the voice in his head. "Okay, Danny." The first night in almost two years, Daniel stayed the whole night. For the first and last time.

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The change in your dynamic was noticeable to everyone. You were magnetic, pulling everyone in when they were trying to claw their way free. That smile was a drug. Everyone craved to see it more and more as they got to know you. "What's going on with you and Daniel?" Looking up, you smile shyly at Max.

He was always welcoming to you and had always thought of you as beautiful. Standing up, you push strands of hair out of your face. "No idea what you mean, Max. We're friends." Saying that tale's old sentence wasn't fooling anyone. They could see you choking on glass every time you told that excuse. "Sure. If you're just friends, you'll go on a date with me then?" Leaning on the railing placed between you two, you freeze.

Unable to stop the pull, you cast your eyes sideways to Daniel. There he was, watching this unravel. Any other boyfriend would stomp up the stairs and punch Max for asking their girl out, but Daniel wasn't yours. "Can I think about it? I do work for the FIA, Max." You try to reason with him, but the Dutch driver just smiles. "So? I don't care who you are. I wouldn't hide you in the shadows like a coward." Wincing at how he practically screamed the last sentence. "Later." Leaning forward, he kisses your cheek, saunters, and waves at Daniel.

Turning, you see Daniel staring at you, but he just smiles his bright smile and walks past you. You were just another chess piece to his board.

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

"You're avoiding me?" Daniel freezes, thinking you're sound asleep. You'd gotten into the habit of waking when he would leave your bed, long before the sun would even rise. "No. I'm here, aren't I?" He asks, slightly turning to see the back of your head.

"You're body is here, Daniel, not you. Never you." Throwing the covers back, you float to the bathroom and throw the light on. Illuminating the bedroom. With glances, you see he was tying his shoes when you woke; it makes you choke. "The hell is that supposed to mean Y/n? I love you." He whispers and yells, and that has you grab a bottle and throw it.

"Why the FUCK are you whispering, Daniel! We're in my apartment, not some hotel room. Though you'd prefer if it was a hotel room, hm? That way, you could forget this is a relationship, not some hookup!" You scream.

"Stop screaming! Do you want people to find out?" He seethes, and a dry laugh shakes your body. "You haven't touched me in almost 3 months, Danny." Daniel dares to flinch at those words. "I've been busy." He leans back over his knees and ties his boots before standing up and grabbing his shirt on the lounge chair. "No, you haven't been.

Ever since Max asked me out, you've changed. No, wait. I take that back. You changed after you slept beside me. Daniel, you can only fuck me can't you?" Daniel doesn't look you in the eye, afraid you'd see the truth in his eyes. But you saw the truth long ago.

"Get out." Two words. Who knew that two words could cut so deep. "What?" Turning, you hold your bathroom door. "Get out. You were leaving already. Well, this time, it's permanent. You were never serious about me. I was a stupid, naive girl for falling for you. For falling in love. Get out, and don't come back." Slamming the bathroom door, Daniel hears the soft click.

The echo of his footsteps and the front door's click breaks you. Sliding down the door, you cover your mouth as soft sobs rattle your body.

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"Stop!" You laugh getting shot by water guns in the blazing heat of Saudi Arabia. "Never!" Max yells, blasting you with the freezing water again. Running away, the people move and laugh as they watch the poor FIA employee run around the paddock avoiding the 2 drivers chasing her.

"Gotcha!" You scream as Lando sprays you with water. Having followed you with his high pitch laughter, you can't help but join in. "Max!" You laugh, feeling arms wrap around your waist, lifting you off the ground before setting you back down. "Cold." Shivering, Max gets the idea of handing the 2nd water gun to Lando and pulls you into his chest, hoping you warm up.

"Better?" You nod, feeling your face burn, unable to control yourself as you bury closer in his chest. "What's happening here?" Muscle snap tight at the familiar Aussie accent. "Hey mate, we're playing around," Max smirks, turning you two around and coming face to face with Daniel.

His sunny smile slips, seeing it was you in Max's hold, not some random girl. "Don't you have work?" Daniel's voice has some bite to it, making Max frown. "Hey, Y/n is fine. Damn Daniel, what's been up your ass lately?" Max asks, his grip loosening on you.

"I'm sure you've got work to do. Besides, does your boyfriend know you're cozying up to some other guy?" Max's arms fall away quickly, and he steps back, clearing his throat. "Well, Lando and I have some media obligations to handle anyway. See you later, Y/n." Grabbing Lando, the Mclaren driver grumbles about not having any media stuff for the day. "Shut it, yes we do." Max hisses, tugging the driver away. Leaving you and Daniel.

"I don't have a boyfriend." You state, glaring at Daniel, who looks down at you before turning around and walking away. "Yeah, walk away. That's all you're good at." How he heard you, you have no idea. Suddenly he's in front of you and pressing you against something. "What'd you say?" His voice was soft, but those eyes betrayed him. He was furious. Normally he'd bend you over and show you who you belonged to. But he can't do that anymore.

"Danny, let me go." It was a soft plead, trying to calm him down. "Go do some work." Pushing off you, he walks away, blending into the crowd. Stepping out, you stare into the public and turn, heading to the FIA hospitality, trying to remove Daniel from your head.

Storming into his driver's room, Daniel throws his water bottle, watching it explode everywhere. "Why'd I fucking do that? I don't care who she's with now!" He grumbles, staring at the water leaking out onto the floor. Cursing, he grabs a couple of towels and tries to clean up the mess, trying to think of why he did what he did.

Seeing you in Max's arms just set his blood on fire, the fact that someone else could hold his girl, and get that smile on your face, pissed him off. He couldn't touch you anymore. Every time he did, he wanted to fuck you right then, and there, people around be damned. He stops and stares at the floor. He could've handled everything better; he was scared.

Rumors had started to spread that a female FIA employee was sleeping with one of the drivers and, at that one, the older ones. He heard the whispers of how she got her job that way, how she was probably a whore who didn't know anything about racing and was using the driver. When it reached Daniel that your name and his were thrown into the mix, he panicked.

Started to distance himself from you. He'll admit that he never did spend the night at your place, too afraid that cameras were following him and they'd catch you two together. Daniel was just protecting you. He couldn't bear to lose you, but in the end, what he thought was protecting you was pushing you away. Fuck, he could never fix this.

He picks up the water bottle and finishes cleaning up; walking out of his room, he sees Max approaching him. He can't help the following words out of his mouth. "Stop flirting with Y/n. She's young and doesn't know what's fun or serious. So leave her alone." Starring Max down, the young driver nods as Daniel stalks away, leaving Max confused.

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"Open this fucking door, Daniel!" Startling awake, Daniel turns his head to his hotel door, hearing someone banging and cursing him. "The fuck." Throwing open the door, he's meeting with you. Dressed up.

God was trying to kill Daniel, wasn't he? Here you stood, dark makeup, hair was done in the style he likes, a ponytail perfect for wrapping his hand around. Dress black and revealing, showing off every inch of your body. Heels, fuck, he loved you in heels. It showed off those legs, legs he loves to have wrapped around his head.

"Y/n? What the hell are you doing? Someone could hear you!" Daniel hissed, wrapping one hand around your arm and dragging you into his hotel room. The race was long over, and some people had already flown to Australia, but he needed a night to gather. That clearly wasn't happening.

"How dare you tell Max I'm childish and don't know the difference between fun and serious! You bastard! How could you do this to me? Telling him to leave me alone? Fucking Christ, Daniel, I'm not your girlfriend anymore. Actually, I never was!" Pulling away, you head to the door, ready to leave, but it's slammed shut, and you're shoved against it. "You were mine." He growls.

Daniel was pissed; he's tired, angry, and sad. And here you are, cursing him for protecting you. "You'll always be mine." His hand trails up your neck and into your ponytail. Wrapping it around his fist, he yanks your head back, pulling a delicate whimper past those red-painted lips. "No, I'm not." Your body betrays you.

Leaning into his touch, Daniel and you stare at each other, almost begging for someone to make the first move. He breaks first. Pulling your hair, his other hand wraps around your leg and lifts you up. Your legs wrap around his waist, moaning when you feel his cock against you. "Kiss me." You whimper. Daniel presses you against the door and devours your mouth.

A soft groan passes through his lips as your tongues clash against one another, fighting for dominance. Pulling away, Daniel attacks your neck, littering it with bites and faint lipstick marks, his lips mirroring your own now. He looks up and freezes, meeting your eyes, realizing what he is doing. Everything he thought about, the rumors, media, people, your job, his own job, fuck, this was wrong.

"No." Sitting you down and backing up, leaving you whimpering and shocked. "What? Daniel, please." Reaching out for him, he backs further into his room, leaving you cold and abandoned. "No, leave Y/n. This isn't right." You reach back, still facing Daniel as you open the door. You back up and close the door, running away.

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

"Good luck." Your voice causes Daniel to jump and turn, seeing you dressed in a classy black dress, something flowy to help beat the Australian heat but still within your FIA uniform. "Thanks, I'm P3. Maybe could get a win." He chuckles, trying to cut the tension. Whether it was sexual or anger, he couldn't tell the difference.

"Yep." Walking away, he sees you smile at the other drivers, even flirting with some drivers as you walk down the track. An alarm sounds, letting people know it is time to get off the track for the race to start.

Daniel climbs into his car, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.

"He is the pride of Australia. We thought he was gone forever, but Daniel Ricciardo has proven it yet again! Why he is the WINNER OF THE 2023 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX! HE'S DONE IT! OH MY GOD!"

The crowd roars, chants, drinks, and everything is utter chaos as all the cars rush past the finish line. People are storming the track, heading to the podium. You watch the crowd, running away from the chaos; you seek quiet, trying to ignore your craving to be next to Daniel.

Lucky for you, being high enough in the FIA, you can have a private room to be alone. Unlucky for you, walking into the space, you're met with the Aussie himself. "Daniel? You're supposed to be at the podium. What the hell are you doing?" You snap, knowing you'll get an ear full from the media about the race winner not being at the podium.

"Claiming my real prize." Unable to react, you crashed into each other and hurried hands pull and tug at each other's clothes and hair. "Danny, fuck." Whimpers pass your lips as Daniel bends down and lifts you up, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass as he walks you over to your small couch.

Biting your lip, he pulls away and stares up at you. "Shit, you're gorgeous. And mine." Daniel growls and sits you down before tugging down his race suit, smirking, as you watch, dazed, reeling from how intoxicating he is. "Now, you're going to do what I say. I will lay half off this couch, and you, Y/n, will sit on my fucking face. And I don't mean half-ass sitting. I want to fucking suffocate while you ride my face and use my nose to get the perfect little clit off. Do you understand me?" Knees buckling, you reach under your dress and pull down your white lace panties.

"Such a good girl." Daniel praises, causing it to stroke your heart and the walls around you. "Come here." Daniel positions himself half off the couch; curling his fingers, he beckons you over to him. Walking over, you straddle his waist, hesitant to do this. "Kitten, come on, be good for me." Daniel praises, almost in a taunting manner.

Daniel moves quickly when you don't move at first and yanks you forward by the back of your thighs, having you land on his face. With a moan, you feel Daniel smirk against you, but soon you ball the couch fabric in your hand as Daniel takes a curious lick of your pussy. "Fuck, Danny." It'd been so long since you've been touched like this. Toes curling, you slack against him, finally resting your weight on him.

"That's right, kitten, just like that." The vibrations of his talking make you giggle, causing your hips to rock forward. And just like he said, his nose hits your clit perfectly. "Danny." His hands move from your thigh to your ass, spreading you as he palms you. His tongue curls and starts to do the alphabet, a trick he learned, his record was J, but today he was going to beat that.

With you rocking your hips, you move back and forth, holding the couch tightly, back arched forward. You gasp when Daniel does G and curls it off by spreading you with his tongue. "Fuck, right there." You moan and speed up your rhythm, riding his face like his cock. When Daniel moves his tongue in the form of H, you moan loudly, almost a squeal, as you shake.

"Danny!" You scream, riding out your orgasm, slowing your pace. Daniel helps you and lays you on the couch as he catches his breath, lips shiny with your slick. "New record." You giggle, which has Daniel smirk, and turn you over onto your stomach. "Yeah? Ready for round 2?" He asks, flipping your dress up.

Shoves two fingers in his mouth, there is no need to wet them, but he wants to mix him and you together as he reaches down and runs the fingers up and down your sensitive pussy. "So damn perfect, and mine. Are you mine, hm? My real trophy?" He asks, making you moan and rock backward, meeting his fingers. They slowly enter and spread you open before moving up and down and then curling inside you, causing you to drop your head, and muffling your moan.

"Fuck me, Danny, please, I can't. I need you!" You cry, which has Daniel shake his head and smack your ass. "Fuck...." You whimper but gasp when you feel Daniel's cock slowly tease you. He rubs his cock up and down before slamming into you.

Reaching around, he covers your mouth, smothering the scream as you adjust to his size. He doesn't wait, though, as he pulls all the way out and slams back into you. Groaning, his free hand wraps your hair and pulls you back, arching into him. "So fucking tight, wrapping around my cock like you are made for me. Are you made for me, kitten? Your pussy made for cock?" He groans. All you can do is nod your head, opening your mouth, you twirl your tongue over his fingers.

He shoves them into your mouth, making you choke on them, but you don't mind sucking on them. He keeps the same depth moving faster, hitting every nerve inside you. "Fuck, close." He groans and lays down on top of you, his thrusts short and fast, pulling his fingers out. They reach down and start to rub your clit. Loud moans fill the air with the sound of skin slapping skin.

"Come in me, make me yours. Fuck, please, please." You beg as Daniel grunts in your ear, moving faster. "Pump you full, I will, baby. Show everyone you're mine. Yeah? Yeah?" He moans as you scream, burying your head on the couch as you come again. Daniel's thrusts falter as he freezes and comes inside you.

Arms tightening around your waist, you whimper, feeling sticky and exhausted but so damn good at the same time. "I'm sorry." He whispers, pulling out of you, and you giggle.

"Don't think because you won, we're suddenly together again. I will need a lot...and I mean many orgasms as an apology." Wrapping your arms around his neck, Daniel laughs. "That I can do." He nips your lips, making you laugh as his hand gently enters you.

"Guess I need to start now." Pulling moans out of you, good thing you locked your door.

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emjayewrites · 1 day

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Paddock Princess (Lewis Hamilton/Monegasque Heiress!OC)(1/10)

SUMMARY: Before they were an item, they were enemies....

BASED ON: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Monegasque Heiress!OC Princess Diallo (faceclaim is Fanny Bourdette-Donon)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @omgsuperstarg @certifiedlesbianbaddie @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @motheroffae @hrlzy @sinflowersugar @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @xoscar03 @blveeeeee @everywherea11thetime @blckgrl-sunflower @whoreforjjk @blowmymbackout

A/N: Slight change, I have pre-testing for the 2022 season in Bahrain, not Barcelona. Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore [Please comment & reblog]

Chapter I: Fuck You & Your Team

The golden Bahraini sunset cast a warm, radiant glow over the Bahrain International Circuit as dry desert winds carried the intoxicating scents of burnt rubber and adrenaline-fueled dreams. Pre-season testing was in full swing, ushering in the start of the exhilarating 2022 Formula 1 season with a symphony of roaring engines and that undeniable thrill of new beginnings.

The sleek, powerful racecars sat lined up in a perfect zig-zag formation on the tarmac, their steel bodies gleaming under the sun as if posing for a photoshoot. The aerodynamic curves and immaculate finishes silently awaited the skilled drivers who would soon bring them roaring back to life.

Leaning against the pit wall with an aura of casual confidence was Princess Diallo, resplendent in a tailored jumpsuit that clung to her curvaceous frame. Her coily tresses were tamed into a sleek ponytail as she surveyed the paddock through eyes that glinted with both mischief and smoldering intensity.

Princess's piercing gaze roamed over the scene before her, briefly pausing to study the photographer arranging the drivers next to their cars for a promotional shoot. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at her full lips as she spotted the unmistakable figure of Lewis Hamilton, the celebrated British racing phenom.

Lewis strolled around the lined up cars, hands tucked behind his back as he studied each model, assessing the sleek new designs and mechanical upgrades with a discerning eye. Though his gaze was concealed behind mirrored sunglasses, Princess could sense his laser-sharp focus. His powerful presence commanded attention, an unmistakable aura of raw confidence and quiet strength.

As Lewis neared where Princess stood, she couldn't help but appreciate his striking appearance - the chiseled angles of his jawline, the lean musculature of his race suit-clad frame, the tall and powerfully built physique. An appreciative warmth bloomed low in her belly as her eyes raked over him.

"Princess," Lewis purred in greeting, her name rolling off his tongue like curling smoke. There was an edge of playful familiarity in his tone, coupled with the barest hint of challenge that she found utterly enthralling.

"Lewis," she replied, pitching her melodious voice into a tone of easy nonchalance despite the way her pulse kicked up a notch. Her Monégasque accent caressed the syllables as she met his veiled stare head-on.

The fiercely independent heiress whose presence at the circuit was as commanding as the cars themselves and Lewis couldn't help but take her in - round cheeks adorned with adorable dimples and almond-shaped brown eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief. Her body was a work of art, smooth and flawless in its terracotta complexion, accentuated with curves that could make any man weak in the knees.

The winter hiatus had done little to diffuse the sparks between them. If anything, the memory of their last heated encounter at the FIA Prize-Giving Gala only stoked the flames of their exhilarating rivalry. He had mistakenly flirted with her, and she had projected her anger at him, still upset about her father's recent meddling. The evening took a sharp turn when her father, who had just secured a major stake in the Alpine F1 team as well as half-ownership of luxury watchmaker IWC, introduced them later that night. What was once a dazzling event now left a bitter taste in her mouth, serving as a constant reminder of the divide between them that felt insurmountable.

The air seemed to crackle with an electric charge as Lewis closed the distance between them. Though his physical proximity should have put her on edge, Princess found herself drawn to him, a moth to the flame. She couldn't help being acutely aware of the IWC watch adorning his wrist - a reminder of her father's increasingly intersecting business interests with Lewis' own endorsements. It made their encounter feel all the more charged, weighted with professional consequences in addition to their personal rivalry.

"I see your father is making good on his investment," commented Lewis as he gestured to Alpine's car behind him.

Princess lifted her chin defiantly. "My father's money may have bought Alpine a fancy new car, but it still doesn't buy success on the track."

A sardonic smirk curved Lewis's lips as he slowly lowered his sunglasses, pinning Princess with a smoldering look from under the shadowed brim. "So the new engineer Alpine hired is the real star of the show, is that it?"

Lewis knew exactly which buttons to push to rile her up - that was his speciality after all, this delicious game of provocation and one-upmanship.

"Maybe," she countered silkily.

His gaze slowly raked over her jumpsuit-clad figure in a subtle once-over. "Let me guess...Gucci?"

"Chloe, actually." Princess felt a smug satisfaction that he didn't recognize the label. "I thought you were supposed to be a fashion icon?"

Leaning in until his smoldering whiskey-brown eyes filled her vision, Lewis chuckled deep in his throat - a low, thrilling sound. "Among other things. Though I suppose it's only fair that you try to keep up with me in some areas."

The arrogant comment immediately deflated Princess' brief sense of superiority, causing her to scoff loudly. "You did not just imply I need to keep up with you. If anything, you should be watching your back."

"Should I?" Lewis's voice dropped to a low, provocative rumble that sent sparks of heated awareness ricocheting through Princess's body. He took one deliberate step closer, firmly invading her personal space. "Because you know how I live for a challenge, Princess."

The combination of his darkly teasing words and sudden, overwhelming proximity made Princess's pulse kick up despite her best efforts. She could feel the scorching heat of his body mere inches from her own, the heady masculine scent of his skin surrounding her in a dizzying cloud. Rallying her composure, Princess tilted her chin and met his molten stare head-on, refusing to be flustered.

"Believe me, Lewis," she murmured, allowing just a hint of breathiness to color her tone. "Keeping you on your toes this season is just the start." Princess willed herself not to look away first from the simmering promise in those rich whiskey depths. She could drown in the banked embers of desire burning there if she wasn't careful. "By the time we're through, we plan to utterly decimate you and Mercedes."

A ghost of an infuriatingly smug smile curved Lewis's sensual lips at her bold declaration. "So Alpine thinks they finally have what it takes to run with the big dogs this year, huh?" He feigned an exaggerated look of surprise that made Princess's teeth grit together. "Those are some awfully big words for someone of your..." His eyes flickered overtly down to her petite frame, "...stature."

Arching one sculpted brow, she returned his mockery with pointed relish.

"Funny, that's rich coming from you...little man," she quipped, allowing her own stare to roam meaningfully over his 5'9" height in a shameless head-to-toe examination.

Lewis' dark eyes glittered with something that looked perilously close to respect? Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on her part. Still, she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch, as if fighting a smile.

Princess smirked inwardly - she was already getting under his skin.

He wet his lips slowly, his tongue darting out to moisten them as he continued to hold Princess' smoldering gaze. "I'm going to hold you to that, Princess," he murmured in a bedroom voice that had her stomach doing somersaults. "And when you fail to live up to that pretty trash talk...well, let's just say I'll enjoy making you eat those words. I like to do all the talking on the track."

"Alright everyone, let’s line up!" called the photographer, breaking the spell between Lewis and Princess. Lewis gave her a wink before stepping away to join the other drivers, and Princess couldn't tear her eyes away from his retreating form. His parting words echoed in her mind, simultaneously taunting and tantalizing.

Just who did he think he was, looking at her like that? Talking to her like that? As if she were the kind of woman who would swoon at a few heated glances and a bedroom voice?

Except part of her had swooned,even just a little. Against her better judgment, she found Lewis utterly magnetic when he dialed up the charm offensive. Those molten eyes, that self-assured swagger, the intoxicating mix of arrogance.

It was maddening, really, how effortlessly he could get under her skin. Just minutes ago, she'd been ready to claw his eyes out after that short jab. Princess shook her head minutely, appalled at herself. This heated rivalry with Lewis was proving to be more dangerous than she'd anticipated because she was uncomfortably attracted to her own nemesis.

But two could play at the game of casual flirtation and thinly veiled double entendres. Lewis may have issued the opening salvo, but Princess was never one to back down from a challenge.

Lewis' thoughts consumed him as he posed for pictures with his fellow drivers. He should’ve seen it coming, really. Their chemistry had been crackling with unresolved tension from the moment they laid eyes on each other again. Like a live wire, just waiting to detonate with the slightest provocation.

And Princess had well and truly provoked him.

Running a hand through his braids, Lewis exhaled a shaky breath. Who names their kid "Princess" and doesn't expect them to grow up to be an entitled arrogant brat? Certainly, her attitude and bold flirtations lived up to that pretentious moniker.

And yet, Lewis couldn't deny the thrilling attraction simmering within him. He prided himself on keeping his cool, on never allowing an attractive woman to rattle his composure so thoroughly, but Princess, she was operating on another level entirely.

Part of him recognized how utterly infuriating her behavior was - the sense of superiority, that practiced smile filled with blatant provocation. She didn't just get under his skin - she burrowed her way straight into his bloodstream, setting him alight in a way he hadn't experienced in years, maybe ever.

Who would’ve thought that a lil’ heiress would drive up this much drama?

The thrill of their rivalry felt wildly intoxicating, like chasing a contact high more addictive than any podium finish, but it was also incredibly dangerous territory.

He knew he had to tread carefully — Princess's father signed his checks as an ambassador for IWC watches, which meant playing fair with her was a non-negotiable, yet he could tell it would be a difficult tightrope to walk. Allowing himself to be drawn into Princess' games based on their little rivalry and a simple physical attraction could prove disastrous for his focus and drive this season.

Lewis had been looking forward to this Formula 1 season as a chance to reaffirm his greatness on the track. Now, he realized the real challenge - the one that would test the limits of his self-control and dedication - would be going head-to-head with the force of nature that was Princess Diallo.

He should leave her alone, focus all his energy on racing and tuning out the dizzying spiral of desire and competition she drew him into. Staying the course, keeping his eye on the prize of another championship, however, even as the logical side of his brain reasoned this out, Lewis knew it was already too late. Princess had gotten her claws into him, and as much as he tried to ignore her, he was powerless to resist rising to her delicious bait.

A slow, lopsided grin curved his lips as he straightened his posture. If Princess wanted to play, he was game.

After all, he thought with a mixture of trepidation and dark excitement, what was a lil’ game between rivals?

The gloves were off this season, in more ways than one. Lewis fully intended to give as good as he got from Princess - both on and off the track.

So, she wanted to up the ante? Challenge accepted.

The Bahrain Grand Prix paddock was a whirlwind of activity as the 2022 Formula One season officially kicked off. Mechanics hustled about making final adjustments, while drivers went through their pre-race rituals amid a cacophony of roaring engines and the excited murmurs of fans.

Lewis strode through the chaos, doing his best to retain his laser focus. He couldn't afford any distractions, any chinks in his renowned concentration.

Of course, the universe seemed determined to test his resolve in that regard. Because loitering by his team's garage, clad in artfully distressed denim and a slinky pink top that left little to the imagination, was his new personal siren, Princess.

Lewis took a deep breath, pushing any thoughts of Princess out of his mind and focusing on the race ahead. But as he approached the garage, she strolled over to him with a deliberate sway of her hips that almost made his heart skip a beat.

"G'morning," she purred as she got closer, openly ogling him with appreciation. "Ready for another exciting season?"

Lewis felt an unwelcome surge of attraction at her tone and the intense desire in her eyes. He couldn't decide whether to shut her down or pull her close and —

No.

He cut off that dangerous train of thought, squaring his shoulders.

"You're really testing the limits of that 'umbrella girl' role your father gave you, aren't you?" he said dryly, attempting to keep his voice steady.

Princess' ruby-red lips didn't twist into a contrite expression. Instead, they curved into a slow, wicked smile. She spoke in a low tone, her voice dropping an octave as she said, "Surely you have better jokes than the tired ‘poor little rich girl’ bit?" She raised an eyebrow and added, "And really...is this what I should expect from someone of your age? Old jokes for old men?"

Lewis arched an eyebrow, refusing to let her baiting get the best of him, as he willed his gaze not to drop below her clavicle. This little game she was playing, it was extremely unhelpful mere minutes before he needed to be 100% focused.

"What I think," he replied carefully, reining in his impulse to either silence her with his lips or snap a scathing retort, "is that you need to find someplace else to be well before the race starts."

"Oh, really?" Princess arched one sculpted brow, undeterred. "I'll be wherever I want to be," she said confidently. "And right now, I want to be here."

"I don't think you understand," he said, his tone hardening. "This is my career, my livelihood. And I don't have time right now to play your games. "

Princess tilted her head back, laughing lightly. "Oh Lewis, don't be so dramatic," she teased. "I'm just here to enjoy the race like everyone else. Can't a girl have a good time? Besides, I could’ve sworn that you promised to have me 'eat my words' yesterday? Trouble in paradise with you and Merc? Are you afraid that my team will one-up you for the Constructors' Championship?"

"Don’t get ahead of yourself now," Lewis said with an eye roll. "When the day comes of Alpine ever exceeding me and my team for a Constructors’ Championship is the day I retire."

"You promise?"

"Hell no," Lewis replied with a teasing smile. "I still have a few more racing years left."

Princess scoffed, crossing her arms. "You're just scared that Alpine has a chance this year," she said proudly.

Lewis couldn't resist the opportunity to prove her wrong. He leaned in close, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, "I promise you, Alpine will never be a threat to us."

Princess shivered at his words, feeling the heat of his breath against her skin. Her heart fluttered in response and she pushed away from him, trying to hide her reaction.

"You can't make promises like that," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I can and I will," Lewis replied confidently.

Princess bit her lip, torn between wanting to continue their verbal sparring and fleeing from the confusing feelings Lewis stirred inside her. Before she could make a decision, there was a loud announcement over the loudspeaker for all non-essential personnel to clear the track before the race began.

"Well," Princess said with a forced smile, "looks like we'll have to continue this conversation after we kick your team's ass on the track. I do love watching a grown man struggle..."

Lewis shook his head with an amused smile. "You really are relentless, aren’t you?"

"It’s a quality my father always admired." Turning on her heel, she tossed one last heated look over her shoulder, "Good luck, I guess."

"Good luck to you too," Lewis murmured to himself as he watched as she sauntered away, her hips swaying exaggeratedly as she disappeared into the crowd. He couldn't understand why this woman affected him so much, but he needed to focus on the race, not get caught up in some petty competition with her.

He could not let some spoiled rich girl shake his concentration, especially not during this season.

But fuck, did she have to move her hips like that? Wear that small-ass shirt?

Now instead of being focused on the race, he was more inclined to be buried deep between her legs.

This fuckin' lil' heiress, man, will be the death of me.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#paddock princess #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x oc

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multifandomgirl08 · 5 months

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Shadow Cast On Devotion [Bittersweet Mini Series]

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Summary: Maybe you were meant to see him again.

Warning(s): Google Translated French

A/N: I literally just finished this yesterday and haven't gotten it beta-read at all. Any and all mistakes are mine. Names for all of the FIA Galas/Parties I made up myself. I already have part 3 in the works, and it's going to be from Charles's POV.

Words: 2.6k

Previous Part → Next Part Bittersweet Masterlist

Monaco hadn’t changed in the 6 months since you had seen it last. It was just as glamorous at night as you remember it.

Your uncle had told you when you had gotten home that he was very impressed with how you presented yourself at the end-of-the-year FIA Gala. So much, so that he had already sent in his RSVP for the charity event that the FIA held after the Monaco Grand Prix, and you would be going in his place as a favor for him.

It was the same arrangement as last time. All expenses paid, on your uncle's dime. You were lucky because you couldn’t afford the luxuries that came with having to go to events like this twice a year.

It would probably be a night alone, making polite small talk in a designer gown that was out of your price range gripping at the black satin clutch in your hand. Waiting for the night to end. You knew from your uncle’s secretary, that the charity event that happened after the Monaco Grand Prix didn’t always mean that any of the drivers would show up. It was meant for team sponsors, members of the FIA, a few selected members of The Grimaldi family of Monaco, and investors.

As you entered the ballroom of the hotel, you were quick to notice that it wasn’t the same black tie event as last time. However, everyone was still dressed in their very best. Bow ties were perfectly straight, and there was not a single stain on the white tablecloths that covered all of the tables.

You gave polite gentle smiles to the people who knew your uncle and by extension you. Your bright red dress gave a big contrast to all of the other women in their dresses in the room, all light creams or dark midnight blues. And as you looked through the crowd, there wasn’t a single driver in sight.

You walked around, making your second round of the room so far before finding your name on a thick cream place card in cursive. You had gotten dragged into a conversation with an older woman and her husband, they were a part of some corporation that sponsored one of the teams. You couldn’t even remember which one. You kept making small talk with people and then excused yourself when you couldn’t handle it anymore. You ended up in a long hallway that you hoped would lead outside.

You needed air, now!

You weren’t meant to handle parties like this by yourself. It was too suffocating. Even thinking about Charles didn’t help. He was probably tired from having won his home Grand Prix earlier in the day. That you had seen with the Paddock passes that your uncle had gifted to you during the holidays.

You pushed open the grand doors, taking in the cold Monaco air, the fabric of the dress you were wearing wouldn’t help you fight the cold but you didn’t care as you looked out into the city of sparkling lights. You just let yourself stand there for a while. You could hear clapping coming from inside but paid it no mind.

When you finally felt the cold getting to you, you turned around ready to go back inside. When you were just about to pull one of the doors closed, you heard footsteps before seeing a head of brown hair turn a corner.

“We meet again, chérie.” Your hand laid over the handle of the ornate door.

There it was, Charles's unmistakable voice. It called for you to turn around.

“Why do we always meet with you sneaking away from a party?” He asked. Your smile broke through with your back still turned to him. You turned around with light tentative steps.

“Well the last time, I wasn’t sneaking away. I was leaning against a wall.” You let slip out. You turned your head down towards the floor before feeling his fingers lightly push your chin up to look at him, meeting his eyes. You could see his lips forming a response but stopped almost instantly.

“How did you know it was me?” You asked to see him in a full dark velvet black suit with pinstripe detail, instead of black dress pants and a matching jacket from the last time you saw him.

“Because even in heels, you walk as light as a cat.” He teased, tapping at his temple as if to say that he remembered. “It would only make sense that you try to sneak away like one too.”

You had never realized that Charles paid that much attention to you in the few hours that you had spent together.

He stepped closer to you, his lips brushing over your ear. “You have ruined me."

You just shook your head stepping away from him a little. He was laying it on thick again. Trying to sway you with his words as if he needed to win you over. He already won you over but you didn’t want him to know that. “I don’t believe that.”

You both stood there for a second, Charles letting his eyes fall over the dress that almost touched the floor.

“You're wearing my color,” He said gesturing to the red pocket square that matched the color of your dress almost perfectly.

You were wearing the closest things that you could find to the iconic Ferrari Red. It wasn’t a conscious choice and by then it was already too late to pick a different dress.

“Everybody is a Ferrari Fan, even if they say they aren’t.” You quoted to Charles. He was aware of those words more than anyone since he had Sebastian as a teammate for a few years.

He started to laugh. “True, if you believe everything that Seb says.”

Charles slowly pulled back, leading you out of the long hallway back towards the party.

You selfishly wanted to hide from the other people in the room with just Charles as your company, but you let him lead you through the room of people with his hand on your lower back. You ended up in a small circle talking with Charles, Max Verstappen, and his wife. For someone who just had a baby 6 months ago, you couldn’t even tell.

“Quite the girl you’ve got on your arm Charles,” Max’s wife said. “How do you two know each other?”

You wanted to correct her. You weren’t here with Charles.

“My uncle is a team sponsor.” You cut in. “He couldn’t come so I came instead.”

Charles looked a little surprised at your answer. Unlike your uncle who had no children, your parents weren’t as well-off so he helped pay for things and spoiled you where your parents were unable to.

Max and his wife shared a look that was in no way malicious, just a silent understanding between the two of them. You couldn’t help but instinctively watch their body language, still open and inviting towards you. Max had stepped away from Charles though pulling his wife into his arms, letting her lean against his chest. You had been wrong about the first time that you saw Max, he had the look of utter devotion in his eyes when it came to his wife.

“Is it your first time at one of these events?” She asked, not paying Max any mind as he slipped his hands down to hold her hips, his hands pressing into the black velvet of her dress.

You were grateful that she didn’t ask any more questions about why you were here.

“It’s her second time,” Charles said before you could. “We met at the FIA End of the Year Gala last year.”

You didn’t mind that Charles had spoken for you, you were grateful for it. As you looked at her, she had given Charles a knowing look with her perfectly shaped eyebrows, raising them and then over at you with a gentle and kind smile.

“Really? How was it?” Her voice was soft and her question didn’t hold any type of double meaning. How did a woman like her fit into this world? She was nice to everyone, but ruthless when it came to the media.

You couldn’t help but look at Charles to see that his smile had widened just a bit.

“When I asked Max about it he only said that it was boring.” She teased.

You looked back at Max and his wife and were a little in awe of them both, as she leaned back. It was as if no other person existed in the room to Max except her.

“Mijn leeuwin, you know this. It was boring, just like the last time you went with me.” He said, and from there you could see the silent conversation that they had with their eyes.

They fit together, like a matching set in their color-coordinated dress and tux combo, even Max’s shoes somehow matched her handbag.

The Verstappens excused themselves from both you and Charles calling it a night, but not before you saw her give Charles a smile and a wink taking Max’s arm and walking towards the double doors that lead out into the lobby of the hotel.

“Are you close?” You asked him walking away from the tables, closer to the band at the front of the room.

Charles stopped walking for a second before looking at you with wide eyes as if he had been caught red-handed.

“Close with Max and his wife?” He asked back. You gave him a slight nod before pulling at the skirt of your dress.

“Yes,” He said before pulling at the sleeves of his jacket a little. “We are quite close, closer than we used to be when we both started in Formula 1.”

“Should I ask why she was winking at you?” You weren’t even sure if you had the right to ask that question but couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“She was winking at me because I told her that I had met you last time you were here.”

You were surprised by Charles’ honesty, most guys would try to play it off as nothing, or let the other person let their thoughts run wild. Charles being honest with you was refreshing. He truly was an anomaly in the world of Formula 1.

“That’s nice,” you smiled at him. “It’s nice to have someone remember you like that.”

You had to downplay this as much as possible. You didn’t want to assume that Charles meant anything by it. He could have just told her, that you were some lonely person at the party and spent the evening with you because it was an FIA Gala, and it was better for him to assume that you were the child of a shareholder or something or other. He didn’t know that you didn’t fit into his world back then.

“I told her that I wasn’t sure if I would see you again,” He cleared his throat reaching up to adjust the collar of his shirt a little. “I’m glad that I am wrong.”

Without knowing it, you had ended up in the middle of the dance floor. You looked around at a few couples slow dancing and welcomed the feel of Charles’ hands, one on your waist and the other outstretched to lead you in a dance.

You and Charles swayed to the classical interpretation of Nothing Else Matters by Metallica. The cellos filled your ears, as you moved in sync together. Your eyes stayed with his, feeling like it was just the two of you in the room isolated from the world. It seemed like it lasted forever but as the final few notes were plucked, you closed your eyes trying to savor this moment. You opened your eyes to meet Charles’ and couldn’t tell what he was thinking at that moment.

You never thought that you would get to spend another evening with Charles. You had selfishly hoped that you would get the chance. But not like this. You had flirted with him a bit, and met some of his friends, even if it was only Max and his wife.

“I should go,” You pulled away from him.

“Wait.” He said catching your hand.

Charles didn’t try to pull you away from the party. Not when he looked away from you to notice that people were staring at the both of you. He took you back over to the tables, pulled out a chair for you to sit down, and sat next to you.

“I know this isn’t what you are used to.” He kept his hands open as he talked. “I don’t know why. But I would like to get to know you more.”

You wanted to protest and tell him no. But you couldn’t bring yourself to. Charles was too good for you and he would get bored of you once he got to know you.

“So, can we at least agree that if we see each other again, I will get to spend more time with you?”

It was like he knew that you were going to tell him that you couldn’t spend more time together. It wouldn’t be right to give Charles false hope for you to see each other again.

“What do you get out of it?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Aside from spending the evening with a beautiful girl?” He asked. You nodded.

He leaned forward, his lips just over your ear, “It would make my time here worth something for once.” You faintly remember Charles saying something similar the last time you saw each other.

Well, you didn’t want to waste Charles’ time. You indulged him for the rest of the evening, talking with him, even letting it slip that you were still in college and would be finished with school in another year.

Later on, as the night was coming to a close and more people walked out of the event, Charles stopped you while you both waited for the valet to get Charles his car and you waited for your town car to take you back to your hotel.

“Can you promise me something?” He asked.

“Promise you something else?” You said with a slight shake of your head.

“No, the same,” he started to say. “If you end up at another one of these events. Promise me that I will get to see you again. Even if it’s only to share another dance.”

You were blown away that he wanted you to make such a promise. You didn’t know if you were going to even end up at another one of these events. The first time was by chance, and the second was a favor to your uncle, a third time however seemed unlikely or too good to be true.

You felt like you couldn’t say anything at first. You lightly nodded, “Yes, I promise that if I get the chance, you’ll see me again.” However, you had no way of knowing when that would be.

The valet had pulled up with Charles’ black Ferrari. Charles collected the key from him, thanking him, and then turned to you. As you looked at him you couldn’t help but feel like he wanted to ask you something but in the end, didn’t.

“A bientôt, chérie.” He whispered into your ear before you felt the faintest brush of his lips against your cheek.

You could only look at him and give him a small wave as he got into his car. As you watched the car pull away you were quickly broken out of your thoughts seeing the town car that you came in had pulled up.

When you got back to the hotel and got ready for bed, you pulled back the covers of the sheets. Your fingers played with the expensive silk fabric and you lightly muttered to yourself, “See you soon, Charles.” Before turning off the lights and going to sleep.

Translation(s): A bientôt, chérie - See you soon, sweetheart

Bittersweet Series taglist: @omgsuperstarg, @bite-me-en-la-boca, @itsjustkhaos, @janeholt3, @cixrosie, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 one shot #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #bittersweet mini series

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wonderfulwonderrful · 4 months

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Grand Prix Elite Academy (2/10) +18 | professor!Toto x reader fem!futuredriver, sewiss, carlos x reader

Summary: Your life turns 360 degrees after receiving your acceptance letter for the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the most exclusive and prestigious Formula One college designed to shape the future drivers of the motorsport world. You will try to navigate your new life among the Monaco elites, survive the campus dynamics and rivalries between the university faculties, and try to win this year's cup to beat an undefeated Mercedes while trying to befriend your eclectic driver classmates, join the wild Red Bull parties, have a couple of make-outs under the racing circuit benches, lose your v-card and get over that stupid crush you have on professor Toto. Will you make it alive to graduation? Drive to Greatness! Genre: Romance, smut, and comedy. Author's note: This is a Formula One college AU fanfiction set in an elite academy in Monaco, where the F1 Teams are Faculties, their Team Principals are professors, the FIA is the college board, and all the grid drivers are your classmates. You are accepted under a scholarship program that supports young, talented girls, having lots to catch on to after years of putting your racing dreams on hold and becoming the new girl in class, which is always challenging, especially when all of you share one campus. Masterlist: all chapters here

Chapter 2: Gone with the Wolff

The sun starts to ascent over Monaco's luxurious skyline in the early hours of the day, casting a golden glow over the buildings.

As you go through the security checkpoint at the campus gates, you feel an intoxicating mix of nerves and excitement brewing in you. Besides feeling like an alien, being the only one there arriving on foot as you watch the endless line of expensive sports cars and SUVs with chauffeurs drive past you and the parking gate.

Today marks the beginning of your journey at the Grand Prix Elite Academy, a heaven where speed and ambition merge.

—You got clearance, miss Y/LN —the muscular security man tells you; stepping out of the security booth, he has a cold and formal attitude and way of speaking. —They need you at the Student Affairs offices. It's on the first floor in the main building —he points towards the large facility down the entrance road. —You need to wear this at all times, no excuses, till your new ID and student badge are ready —he instructs you, handing you a metallic purple "visitor" access badge.

—Oh, thank you.

Stepping for the first time onto the campus grounds, you can't help but feel in awe by the magnificence surrounding you as you pay attention to all the details.

The buildings' architecture combines Monaco's classical style blend with modern facades full of massive glass walls facing the different gardens.

There are many lanes for pedestrians, bicycles, and electric scooters. Beautiful palm trees, flowers, and acres of perfectly maintained green grass complete the view.

The campus is full of energy and student life. People read and work on their computers and tablets in the different sitting areas, which are filled with picnic tables and expensive outdoor furniture. Others lie on the grass, chat in groups, or walk fast to somewhere. People get in and out of the buildings, and many line up in the Starbucks inside campus.

—Y/N! Carlos calls your name from a step on the main building's ample stairs, sitting beside Esteban. Judging by all the students sitting on them, the stairs look like a popular gathering spot.

You start walking on their way while Carlos rushes down to welcome you with a hug, his prince-charming hair flowing in the wind as he reaches you. You two became good friends after spending the Homecoming Gala dancing your asses off and partying with the rest of the group.

—Are you an early bird, too? —you ask him as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells sweet and floral.

—Not really! Mattia scheduled our faculty meeting in the auditorium at 7 a.m. That Italian is insane! I swear he is constantly testing our sanity, so if you pick "Motor Vehicle Engineering" as a subject, expect those kinds of tricks from him.

That explains why almost everyone on campus right now is wearing red. —How did it go? They didn't ask for my assistance, so I guess I can cross Ferrari off my list —you ask.

—The usual "Winning can't wait! Blah blah, we need to defeat Mercedes, blah blah, I'm not accepting B grades, no exceptions blah blah" sabes? Well, you don't, actually; you are new, haha —he answers, a bit bored.

You laugh at his faux Italian accent as he makes his best Mattia impression. —Very Mario Bros of you. —You joke with him while admiring his expensive-looking Ferrari uniform, a crisp red blazer perfectly tailored to accentuate his fit silhouette, with Ferrari's insignia delicately embroidered on the breast pocket.

Complementing his blazer is a classic white shirt crafted from the finest cotton. Carlos' trousers, also tailored from a deep grey fabric, are paired with Italian leather brogue shoes.

"Gosh, he is so handsome!" You think.

—Still no news, cierto? —he asks you, glancing you down. He notices you are wearing the grey faculty-less, GPEA rookie uniform, as most newbies are.

—No! —you pout. —Have you heard something? The red uniform sure looks beautiful.

—I could ask around; maybe Sebastian can give us info; he is in Student Affairs this year!

—Oh, great! I will ask him myself. I'm about to meet him there. I have to pick up my badge, sign lots of stuff, and get my dorm access.

—This is my number —Carlos bumps his phone with yours. —Text me when you learn who your roommate is! I will give you the receipts and tea.

—Oh! Thanks! Let's hope for the best!

As you make your way inside the main building to the administration floor, you admire the elegant blend of class and innovation.

The hallways hum with the chatter of fellow students, their gossip muffled by the occasional roar of a passing racing car on the nearby track, where free practices occur. That sound makes your blood rush.

Once you arrive at your destination, you knock on the glass doors, which is a bit dumb because they can see you before you step in.

The staff points you to a cubicle, where you find Sebastian Vettel sleeping in his office chair under an Aston Martin jacket. The room's air conditioning makes it feel like a freezer.

You pinch him on the ribs, teasing and waking him, making Seb jump, you little shit!

—Oh, you made it here! Hi! —his kind smile greets you.

—Hi, lazy ass! Ow, did I wake you? —you joke.

—Where is your sorority? We sisters must stand together. Seb gets on his feet and goes to find your badge inside a giant blue plastic container with tons of those. —I also need to take your biometrics, but you must read and sign these first. It's for the use of personal data, etc.

—Sure —you answer as he prints the papers and hands them to you.

—Take your time—he drops himself back on the chair and slides near you.—Did Lewis give you rookies the campus tour yet?

You deny shaking your head.

—Oh! That man! —Seb rubs his forehead, exasperated. —I love him, but he drives me crazy sometimes —Vettel picks up his radio and tries to reach him. —For sure, Carl is still at the gym instead of doing his job! I desperately need to hire him an assistant, he almost forgot his mom's birthday the other day. Thank God I bought her the present in advance! —Seb pushes the signal button once more, waiting for Lewis to pick it up, and he turns to whisper to you. —I heard the new trainer is fucking hot —Vettel raises his eyebrows up and down suggestively several times while grinning.

A couple of beeps come before he starts speaking. —You are still at the gym, aren't you?

Lewis's distorted voice comes through the radio. —Yes, I told you I'm trying this new workout for you, remember? Longer, more lifting required, less cardio. Our hardcore sessions are working wonderfully, my love. Didn't you tell me you love my muscles as much as you love my coc…

—Woa, woa, Y/N is here; she is listening! —Seb quickly interrupts him, and you start to laugh.

—Sorry about that —Seb tells you, a bit red.

—No worries! I feel a little jealous, tho. I wish I had someone; you guys seem very in love.

—You will soon! This place is full of hot and horny people and too many parties and alcohol. Oh! In my good ol' slut days, I used to hook up a lot and be given blowjobs under the benches at the racing circuit.

—I'm still here! —Lewis interrupts, quite amused.

—Lewis, please hurry! This place is enormous, and I have no idea where anything is! I need to pee! Where are the bathrooms?! —you talk to him on the radio before Seb takes your fingerprints.

Your orientation activities begin half an hour later.

Lewis shows up and gathers you rookies in the main lobby, where the collection of trophies and awards of the Academy are displayed in a fancy museum way, as he welcomes you and tells you about the campus and the glorious history of this institution.

You are not surprised to see only ten new students beside you. This place's tuition is so fucking expensive, and it's a niche business.

Soon, you discover that only some people want to become racing drivers; the rest want to be part of the motorsports world and teams. The GPEA curriculum is so vast that it covers everything from team management, aerodynamics, engineering, sports marketing, finances, and more.

Lewis takes you all on tour, on foot, where you dazzle at the display of facilities, from the incredibly modern library, full of study stations, desks, and immersive display computers, to the massive sports center, the place where future champions are getting in shape, it looks like the Olympics inside there; it's a state of the art huge physical training center with the newest and most tech pieces of equipment as well as an extensive swimming pool and a complete wellness center with an upscale spa, massages and sauna included.

Almost all classrooms have ocean views, luxurious and comfy seating, ample desks, and smart boards; everything looks pristine, trendy, and bright.

But the lab! Oh! The lab! It's a wet dream! It's full of the highest-tech simulators, which are to die for. It's the most immersive and authentic experience you've ever seen.

The cafeteria has become your second favorite place. It's the most fabulous room, full of culinary experiences and areas. It's enormous, with high-end restaurants, many to-go options, and several bars serving vegetarian food and healthy snacks.

There is even a juice therapy concept zone that looks interesting!

The nap pods, comfy puffs, slides, lounge areas, and lots of art installations make it an eclectic and chic place.

You also visit the race circuit, garages, and the Mechanics building, where you feel at home. This hallowed ground is where legends are born.

You stand amidst the sleek machines, their vibrant colors and flawless designs are testaments to the craftsmanship and skill that define the racing world.

In that moment, you sense a deep connection forming, a kinship with the machines that would become your companions on this exhilarating journey.

You wish Lewis would let you spend more time there, but he takes you to the dorm buildings, which are basically 5-star hotels.

Your "shared rooms" are bigger than your house. You would describe them as luxurious apartments for two.

The dorm buildings are next to "the social hub," a compound of several establishments (bars, restaurants, and a social club, obviously) located near the marina and harbor. Yatch culture is big there, too!

As Lewis wraps his speech once back in the main lobby, Horner reaches him, whispering something to his ear, patting his shoulder, and then walking towards you.

Your hands shake slightly as he politely lets you know Red Bull is not the faculty for you.

A bit bummed out, you take the elevator up to the last floor, where the main lecture hall is. It's the largest one, and it is reserved for subjects that students of different years and careers share.

It's your first class of the day, and you are in awe of the panoramic view that greets you as you step in. To your left is a sweeping vista of the sprawling race track at a distance, impeccably maintained and stretching toward the horizon. You observe it through the floor-to-ceiling clear crystal panel windows.

As you settle into your first lecture on "Electrical Engineering," conversations flow effortlessly, fueling your collective enthusiasm and igniting friendships as Professor Otmar delivers an exciting class.

Almost by the end of the class, your phone buzzes on your desk as you write memos on your iPad; Leandra texts you to meet them at the "Turn 17 Lounge" in the marina after classes.

Soon, you find yourself surrounded by laughter and the clinking of glasses inside the vibrant, contemporary lounge. It's packed since most students finished their schedules, and it's the first day back.

You sit in the pricey furniture beside your new friends near the chic bar area while enjoying the panoramic waterfront views.

The place's ambiance is lively and energetic. A trendy playlist sounds in the background as you are handed a menu with a range of innovative and Instagram-worthy cocktails and appetizers.

You look at them, shocked at the prices and amused at the pompous names, and resign yourself to ordering just a Coke with ice or a Coke on the rocks, according to the carte.

You find out the lounge hosts themed events, live music nights, and interactive experiences to cater to the preferences and desires of the student crowds.

—What up, babe?! —Leandra greets you. She is wearing her faculty activewear. Her gym shirt is crafted from breathable red fabric, showcasing sleek black accents, while the Scuderia Ferrari emblem is proudly displayed on her chest. Her gym shorts are designed for optimal movement and feature a mix of black and red detailing. —I don't feel my legs, not in the sense I would like!

You laugh at her comment.

—Pippa Gasly, Y/N —She introduces you two. A cute blue-eyed French girl waves her hand at you sitting across the coffee table; she is Yuki's girlfriend; you witnessed them devouring each other at the Gala. —The new coach is so fucking hot; the rumors are true, I stretched way too sluty for him during his training, and he stared me down. Should I give him a private tour of the dock area? —Leandra gossips you two.

—The dockyard has a very secluded lighthouse. It's the perfect spot to discreetly fuck or hook up with someone if you don't want the entire campus to find out —Pippa explains.

—I heard it was under the benches —you add.

—Not anymore. Security parol those now. Thank you, Lando!

—I'm proud of my legacy! —he and Max join you.

—I fucked a very loud girl in there and got caught by security —he admits to you, shrugging his shoulders. —Massi made me publicly apologize in the commencement speech that year. Can you believe it?! Far worse things have happened, and he didn't even bathe an eye then! But he made an example out of me. But, in the end, he knew he needed my parents' money and donations, so he stayed in his lane.

—Where the fuck is Charles?! —Max addresses Leandra, looking a bit concerned. —He is not answering my DMs.

—Still with his grandpa, he will arrive soon; all his things arrived at our dorm today.

—Talking about that, I have a roommate! —you notify the group, and all eyes set on you.

—WHO?! —everyone asks at the same time.

—It's a girl, thank God, her name is Naya Lauda.

Their eyebrows go to the roof. Lando's face is a poem.

You look at them, feeling now concerned. —What?! You guys, WHAT?!

—This is about to get awkward —Lando speaks while sipping his beer. —She is a persona non grata.

—Don't mention it to Lewis —Pippa advices you.

You look at Leandra with a "please explain!" face. —Naya is best friends with Nico Rosberg; he is the mean girl of this school, a total douch, and also Lewis' ex; those two were THE thing back in the day, the most popular and prodigy couple on campus, but in reality, they were highly toxic and harmful to each other —many nods come in response as she explains.

—All this before Lewis came to his senses! —Pippa adds.

—He changed a lot for the better once he started dating lovely Sebastian and split from those two —Leandra resumes explaining. —Naya took Nico's side on the divorce, annihilating his friendship with Lewis in the process.

Lando then interrupts to give you more input. —To Toto's displeasure, the whole thing fractured Mercedes' unstoppable all-star team! The three of them used to be inseparable and insufferable.

—Yeah, they only talked to each other and pushed away anyone who tried to get close or be friendly with them. Including old friends —Max joins the explanation.

—Talking of which… —Pippa adds.

—Oh yeah, I forgot about the Toto thing —Lando mentions.

—Naya is also Toto's protege; she is exceptionally talented, intelligent, and top of the class… —Max says.

—And fucking hot —Leandra admits.

—And..? —you instantly ask, sensing there is more.

The group exchanges a couple of looks.

—There was a rumor. Leandra brushes your arm. —But it's just a rumor; nothing has ever been proven.

—That Naya was the reason why the Wolffs split. Those two have a weird dynamic, to be honest —Pippa finishes. —She is a bit possessive of him, and seeing them by their side on and off campus is usual.

—They go everywhere together —Leandra bluntly corrects.

—Also, Max has been in love with Naya since childhood. He used to gift her bouquets after every karting race, always cheer for her at the benches, and even let her win while driving against each other, which in Max's language is a "Will you marry me?" —Lando declares, and Max huffs. —Don't pretend you don't!

—Fine! YES! I did, but that was in the past.

Oh boy.

After taking a relaxing bath and washing away all the nerves and stress of your first day, you get comfortable on the cozy sofa in your dorm's living room. On your way there, you grab a bag of chips and place your laptop on your legs. You are wearing the GPEA oversized T-shirt, tiny shorts, and your hair wrapped in a towel, thinking you are there alone.

—Filling up your schedule? Choosing your core classes? —you hear a velvet voice behind you, making you jump a little.

—Yes, any suggestions or tips? —Naya gets closer to peek at your screen. She is a gazelle, a very sexy and gorgeous girl who exudes confidence and grace in her every movement.

Her magnetic gray eyes capture, and her great posture commands attention effortlessly, while her impeccable style embodies sensuality and elegance, provoking an unforgettable impression on anyone who crosses her path.

You get why she got Toto's attention; you feel like a troll beside her. Until now, Naya seems kind and polite but not very social or talkative.

—"Aerodynamics I," "Thermodynamics I," and "Materials Science" are perfect for your entry-level. "Mechanics II" is quite advanced, are you sure? —Naya tells you, and you nod. —Your optional elective classes, "Data Science" and "Strategy and Leadership," are both hard to get into, especially Torger's!

—Wish me the best, then! —you say as you hit the submit button.

—How on earth did you get accepted into Toto's class?! —Sebs looks impressed as you two finish breakfast at the cafeteria while he reads your assigned schedule, giving it the heads up!

You feel slightly cocky and proud of the accomplishment.

Then Seb glances at his smartwatch. —Better be leaving, Y/N! You don't want to be a second late for it. Toto is extremely picky; he got Lance expelled from the subject for being two minutes late once. Forget about missing class or not delivering a report!

—Oh shit! —your eyes go wide as you grab your things and rush there.

You walk inside the luxurious lecture hall on time and out of breath; for sure, your hair looks like shit now.

For obvious reasons, you tried your best to put on a decent-looking outfit and even makeup, which you aren't a fan of, lol girl, as he will notice you, let's say you aren't the most stereotypically called "girlie girl," lacking the mom's touch and being raised among mechanics, not to mention that all beauty products are damn expensive.

This hall is entirely different from the one at the top of the building. It is smaller and intimate but way fancier, with opulence and functionality blending seamlessly.

The hall boasts plush, leather-upholstered seats with individual desks, offering maximum comfort to each student.

The walls are modern and sleek, and large screens display live feeds of races and analyses with cutting-edge audiovisual equipment and an advanced sound system that provides an immersive learning experience.

The spacious layout ensures an unobstructed view of the front podium, where Professor Toto is about to impart his class. He looks crazy hot in that white fitted rolled-up sleeve shirt and tight beige pants, which he is wearing while adjusting his earset microphone.

Toto starts his class by presenting a rather complex and compelling study case, grabbing the attention of the small group in just a couple of minutes.

—You must solve the problem, minimize the impact, and land the new course of action —he explains, walking around the room. —In real life, you would only have a couple of minutes to discuss with the entire team and command the driver to follow the needed change in strategy. There's no safety net. How would you solve it? Let's start with you, Mr. Rosberg.

You all give different input until a proper answer is formed, and then Toto moves to theory.

You try your best to concentrate and absorb the knowledge he is sharing and not get lost on his attractive backside, that back, those shoulders, and veins.

While you pick up your things as the class is dismissed, you catch his gaze set on you.

—Miss, Y/N —fuck, your name sounds hot in his mouth. —You are so tempting —your mind goes to another place while he bends in front of your seat, forearms on the wood surface, his muscular arms flexed, leaning closer to you over the desk. —You had the most impressive start! You can be an exciting addition to our faculty, but I need you to answer some questions first. Could you join me at the campus bistro on Thursday?

—Oh, y-yes —you barely answer.

—Good, see you there at 7 p.m —he smiles at you and exits.

WHAT?!!

Since your arrival at the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the excitement of the first days had begun to dull into the routine of classes, homework, and training sessions.

As you step in, the bistro buzzes with chatter and laughter, and the scent of freshly prepared meals fills the air. Amidst the chaos, you spot Toto sitting alone at a table.

He is wearing a navy blue blazer that perfectly hugs his lean frame and a crisp white shirt neatly tucked into matching slacks.

He gets on his feet to greet you as you reach the table and waits for you to sit; he is a total gentleman. He orders two glasses of sparkling water as he hands you the menu.

—Let's start with some appetizers, shall we? —he suggests, smiling. —There's a delicious caprese salad, and the fish cakes are to die for.

You inspect the menu, scanning the unfamiliar dishes listed. Most of them are exotic delicacies, some requiring ingredients sourced only from the farthest reaches of the globe. But that's part of the charm of attending such an exclusive institution: the exposure to cultures and experiences vastly different from yours.

—Caprese salad sounds perfect —you decide, handing the menu back to Toto. He nods approvingly and waves down a passing waiter.

—Two caprese salads, please —he instructs. —And bring us some bread, too. Oh, and a bottle of that Pinot Grigio, would you?

You study Toto closely as you wait for your food. He is commanding, yet his mannerisms hint at a softer side. When he speaks, his timbre is soothing, and his choice of words is deliberate.

He has something magnetic, a quality that draws people in, regardless of how guarded he initially appears. You listen to him intensely as he shares anecdotes about his racing career and the highs and lows he has encountered along the way.

His contagious laugh echoes in the dimly lit restaurant. It's almost disarming, making you forget the nervous tension that had built up inside you.

He glances at you occasionally, his eyes dancing with mischief. You can sometimes sense his interest, a silent invitation to reveal more about yourself.

Yet, you remain cautious, guarding your vulnerability under layers of carefully chosen words. In return, Toto offers tantalizing tidbits about his life and motivations.

—So, Y/N, tell me about yourself —Toto asks gently as the waiter places your dishes on the table. A fragrant medley of tomatoes, basil, and fresh mozzarella floats upwards, causing your stomach to rumble audibly.

Toto smiles knowingly, motioning for you to dig in. The juicy tomatoes burst with sweetness, harmoniously mingling with the creamy cheese. Each rich mouthful sends shivers down your spine like the flavors are awakening sensations long buried beneath your consciousness.

—Where did your love for racing originate? —Toto starts between bites.

—Well, it started when I was barely four years old. My father watches Grand Prix races religiously, and eventually, I joined him. We'd sit together on the couch, our hearts pounding in sync and in awe, as the drivers navigated tight bends and straights; that's when I fell in love with the sport, the thrill of watching them push their limits, the suspense of waiting for the checkered flag to wave.

—Sweet —Toto responds. —It's incredible how the love for racing can manifest itself in someone so young —He pauses, reaching for your glasses of wine and offering you a sip. You gladly accept, relishing the crisp taste of the pinot grigio as it slides smoothly down your throat. You could feel the warmth spreading through your body, melting away the nerves.

—Do you have a favorite driver? —Toto asks, swirling the contents of his glass thoughtfully.

—My favorite driver is Senna. I admire his raw talent and aggressive driving style. His determination to win is inspiring and captivating.

Toto raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your answer. —Ah, Senna, quite a classic —he echoes, giving a knowing nod. —He's certainly an interesting character; he's got the guts and skill to make a lasting impression. His smooth driving style and natural grace make him stand out in a generation of aggressive competitors. You're a traditionalist, aren't you? You appreciate the artistry and elegance of the sport.

—Yes —you admit.

—Senna embodies the essence of racing, displaying a combination of raw talent and refined technique. He was an extraordinary driver —you add.

—A true gentleman on and off the track —Toto concludes.

Your conversation flows effortlessly, weaving in and out of topics ranging from the intricacies of car engineering to the nuances of team dynamics. Toto's insights and expertise are fascinating and provide valuable perspectives.

As you listen attentively, you notice the subtle change in Toto's demeanor; his posture becomes more relaxed. Yet, you can't shake off the feeling that Toto is deliberately testing you.

—So, Y/N, why suddendly quit? —he leans closer, truly curious. —Why stop such a promising career so suddenly?

—My mom's sickness and, after her passing, a lot of debt. I'm here on a scholarship. I'm not wealthy.

—I see. And were there no other options for you to be able to continue?

—Well, I don't know. I felt lost for a while; depressed is the word, so yeah, I stopped racing.

—I see. How has your experience at the Academy been thus far? —Toto switches topics; a twinkle in his eye suggests that he already knows the answer to his question.

—I must say, things here are pretty competitive —you admit, after a brief pause. —Everyone seems driven by ambition, constantly seeking to prove themselves. It's an environment that demands excellence.

Toto nods. —Indeed, the Academy is known for fostering a culture of competitiveness and exceptionalism.

—I feel overwhelmed by the pressure to perform and excel. It feels like everyone around me is doing everything possible to reach the top —you add, with a hint of concern creeping into your voice.

Toto leans back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. You can't help peeking at his biceps. —Well, that's precisely the nature of this place, Y/N. The environment is designed to challenge you in a way you don't think possible. After all, the ultimate goal here is to nurture champions. To achieve that, we need to create a breeding ground for fierce competition. It's crucial to foster resilience and adaptability in our students.

—I feel privileged to be here —you add honestly and smilingly.

Toto pauses to take a sip of his wine. —We all want you to succeed, but you must realize it takes a village to raise a champion.

—Yes, I agree —you reply, shifting in your seat. Despite Toto's reputation as a tough-as-nails professor, he exudes a calm demeanor.

—So, have you considered your goals for this term? —he asks you.

—I've been thinking about improving my handling of high-speed situations and refining my understanding of aerodynamics. I'd also like to enhance my ability to work effectively under pressure.

Toto's eyes widened. —Those are ambitious goals. We have some excellent resources at the Academy to help you achieve these objectives. I highly recommend you check out the advanced simulations. Not only does it teach you how to handle extreme speed, but it also gives you a safe space to experiment with your techniques.

—Thank you! Your advice means a lot to me.

—No problem, he replies. —Don't hesitate to ask if you ever need assistance. I believe in your potential, and I'm confident you'll achieve great things here at the Academy, but not with Mercedes; our faculty requires a different mindset to accept you.

—A different mindset?

—Yes, you don't have the mindset we are looking for. You gave up your dream too quickly. Quitting is not a trait at Mercedes; we believe there is always another option or way to achieve a goal. You appear to be drawn to a more traditional approach, and we are trying to innovate and push forward the sport. You struggle with pressure, and this is an environment full of it. Your starting point is behind the other rookies for the hiatus you experienced. If you don't perform well, there is also the high risk of losing your scholarship, and our investment in you goes nowhere —Toto answers, shifting his attitude from the charming "I'm your friend" facade to the version of him everyone told you about.

He was paying attention to your every word, wasn't he?

—You have a bright future ahead of you. I will be thrilled to witness your progress, Toto says, draining the last drops of wine from his glass and gently setting it down on the table. —Don't get me wrong; I wish you the best —he adds, feeling the conversation is over and preparing to leave.

Of course, this meeting was pure business; what were you expecting? Not to be judged and scrutinized? To make a friend?

—Losing a parent is not easy —you add, getting on your nerves at the lack of empathy.

—It's also not an excuse. In this career, you will face many adversities and problems. You are not the first or last driver to lose a family member. You are still spineless and lack emotional intelligence.

—You don't know me.

—You aren't that difficult to read. Just a simple and honest conversation like this is getting under your skin. I'm hardly ever wrong.

—I have proven wrong your kind before.

—My kind?

—Judgmental and entitled rich men with big opinions.

—Holy shit! You didn't call Toto THAT! —Leandra almost spits her orange juice the following morning as you two settle down on the grass beside Carlos. You lean on his shoulder while he gives you soft pats on your back, comforting you. —Bitch, you play no games, huh?

You shrug, a bit sad. That introduction with Toto went sour.

—Sharl is here! —Carlos says, looking to your left.

You see Leclerc jogging towards you.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; let me know! Merry Christmas, Wolffies!

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charlosvibesonly · 3 months

Text

Racing Hearts - Part 7

Pairing : Max x fem! driver/reader

it was the best of times, it was the worst of crimes (this would be the second last part of this series. i hope you enjoy it!)

The rooftop breeze played with your hair as Max stared into your eyes. His expression softened, and a vulnerability you hadn't seen before appeared in his gaze.

"Y/N," he began, his voice tinged with sincerity, "I need to be honest with you. I let my insecurities get the better of me this season. The pressure to win, to be the best, it clouded my judgment. I pushed you away because I was scared. Scared that I wasn't enough, scared that I would lose you."

Your heart ached at his confession. "Max, you don't have to be perfect. I don't need you to be. I just need you to be honest with me."

He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "I really like you, Y/N. More than I ever thought I would. But I was so afraid of messing things up that I ended up doing just that."

A soft smile played on your lips. "Max, I forgive you. We all have our flaws, our moments of weakness. What matters is how we learn from them."

Relief flickered across Max's face as he reached for your hand. "I promise, Y/N, I'll do better. I'll be better for you."

As the two of you shared a quiet moment, a news notification on your phone cut through the atmosphere. The headline read, "Toto Wolff Takes Allegations of Cheating by Red Bull to FIA, Calls for Investigation."

The reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut. Toto Wolff, fueled by rivalry and a desire to see Red Bull fall, had escalated the situation to the governing body of Formula 1.

The next day, the paddock buzzed with tension as news of the investigation spread like wildfire. As you and Max prepared for the upcoming race, a shadow fell across your path. Toto Wolff approached with a determined stride, his face a mask of determination.

"Well, well, if it isn't the star-crossed lovers of the paddock," Toto sneered, casting a derisive glance between you and Max.

Max shot him a glare, but you held a steadying hand on his arm. "What do you want, Toto?"

Toto leaned in, his voice low and menacing. "I hope you enjoyed your celebration, because it might be your last. The investigation is underway, and I'll make sure justice is served."

Max's jaw clenched, but you maintained a calm demeanor. "If there's nothing to find, Toto, then justice will prevail. But we won't let your personal vendetta tarnish our achievements."

Toto laughed dismissively. "Personal vendetta? I'm just ensuring fairness in the sport, Max. We can't have cheaters running rampant."

You took a step forward, meeting Toto's gaze with unwavering resolve. "We haven't cheated, Toto. And you know it. This is about your pride, not the integrity of the sport."

Toto's eyes narrowed, and he pointed a finger accusingly. "Red Bull's sudden dominance threatens Mercedes. We can't let them take the spotlight. I won't stand by and watch our legacy crumble because of some upstarts."

Max's patience wore thin, and he stepped between you and Toto. "Enough of your games, Toto. We're not afraid of your threats. Let the investigation run its course, and we'll be proven innocent."

Toto scoffed, shooting one last venomous look your way before turning on his heel and walking away. The paddock was abuzz with whispers, eyes following the confrontation between Red Bull and Mercedes.

With hands intertwined and a shared look of unwavering determination, Max whispered, "Whatever comes our way, we'll face it together—champions on and off the track."

#max verstappen #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1

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partial-bouquet · 9 months

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So I drew my KOTOR character, Fia Caste. She’s a little confused and kinda suspicious of everything.

#kotor #knights of the old republic #kotor fanart #star wars kotor #star wars #star wars oc #kotor oc #<- unsure about the tag cause like #how much does kotor character that is revan count as an oc #also spoilers i guess?#for the 20 year old game or whatever #rosemary’s drawings (tm)#fia caste

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operationslipperypuppet · 7 months

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Naddpod Carnegie based on what I can remember, post-show euphoria comedown. (That’s more for me so I can remember it later)

The music was played by a quintet, and the director was Emily’s brother, Brian. They were incredible.

Music started early and people talked through a lot of it but it was all incredible. When they played Kingshammer, everyone lost their shit after one note. When they finished we freaked out. We were correct to do this.

The whole two crew was dressed up and looked so great! Murph’s jacket was bedazzled.

The band stayed on stage for the show and played music under moments of it as it happened.

We started with the Boobs. They were nominated for the hit awards show, the Batubies, 5 years after the fall of Thiala. Bev was wearing a too-tight bow tie and grew a bad mustache. Hardwons outfit matched what Jake was wearing. Moonshine wild shaped just her torso into a penguin (still with huge boobs). Paw Paw was covered in hair gel and grew a perfect mustache. They were all gunning for pawpaw to win, and the photographers only wanted to photograph him.

Balnor was the host. He was possessed by a joke book, dungeons and laughies. He had veneers and Hardwon and Moonshine wanted some as well. Hardwon filed his teeth down to prepare, Moonsshine opted to wait for a dentist. The boobs HATED Balnor’s jokes. He hissed at them when they tried to take his book. Moonshine admitted to maybe being attracted to hissing Balnor.

The awards show started with an in memoriam to certain villains they’d killed. They were described: Josh - thrown out a window by Moonshine, The Crag - beheaded by Bev after a beheading song/dance (I do not remember lol), Galad - beheaded by Hardwon and then resurrected and beheaded by hardwons mom (jake blows kiss to Lydia), The Bear Prince - killed by Moonshine then brought back as a zombie so he could be killed by Hardwon, who was trapped in honey the whole fight, Thiala - eaten by Moonshine.

Awards were as follows: A best dramatic acting - they played clips from the actual pod; Hardwon finding out about his parents, Bev trying to resurrect Erlin when Thiala killed Pelor, Moonshine’s “child has a duty to his father, hero has a duty to the world”, and Donkey Kong’s recap of the wars - DK won. The audience was confused. Moonshine and Hardwon were angry because “that wasn’t canon”. DK sent in a video acceptance speech. Pendergreens won best redemption arc and gave a speech about how good Bowflexes are, and then Ren won a free bow flex. Coach Bortram won best smite, murph thought he remembered his voice. He did not

Best hero was the boobs rescinding their nominations so Paw Paw could win. Balnor, possessed, gave it to Galad, resurrecting him. Paw Paw was the only one to escape a restraining spell, and fled the theater, chosen knights in hot pursuit. The Boobs were annoyed with Balnor and when he died onstage were called out by Cobb and MeeMaw for being mean. It was nice to have Cobb.

Outside, he found the Triplets and Keychain, who were arguing with the astral worm bouncer because they weren’t on the list and Onyx dressed as one of the “Stranger Kids” cast to try to get in. (Murph still DMing, Caldwell as Keychain.) They wanted to kill Paw Paw (thought he was a weird dog) and were ready to fight the Chosen over it. Paw Paw rolled a nat 20 initiative, and ran again. Nyack killed 2 knights, Onyx killed 3 others. They got VIP passes and headed inside the theater, Onyx hitting on the astral worm along the way.

Paw Paw then found the Third Mates in a bar. Zirk drank windex, poisoned himself, and Fia and Hank also drank Windex. They talked about having Windex visions and seeing Windex Goblins. Paw Paw was familiar with the ladder. Bukvar could talk to Paw Paw and translated his distress to the Third Mates. He also asked why they drank Windex. Murph said that the bartender said “this only really sounds like one of you” and looked past zirk, very clearly calling out human man Caldwell. It was beautiful. They were ready to act, healed from poison by Paw Paw giving them water. Balnors evil book attacked, and Hank and Shank took it out in one turn, doing over 100 damage with an action surge. Murph was pleasantly shocked. Fia was able to use the disenchanted book to learn the spell to free everyone in the theater They then followed Paw Paw back to the theater.

Inside, everyone discovered that the Boobs had been kidnapped by Galad, who intended to use their blood to bring back Thiala. The only witnesses to this were our beloved Duck Team, who did not get restrained but didn’t help because they were busy playing smash on a DS.

Balnor, back alive, asked everyone to come help. There was some discussion over whether the triplets would go.

He took all the heroes in the Stormborn to the mountains of Irondeep. The triplets took over the captains quarters and claimed they already had rewards accounts. They tried to order chicken caesar salads from Calder, who could only find lettuce. Hank was steering, worried about gunk in the wheel. Fia was warming up the canons, Callie was in the crows nest. Sol was in the sails, Zirk got stuck in the engine. It was glorious.

Once in irondeep, they found Galad looming over the tied up boobs, stealing Rosaline back. They rolled initiative based on the highest dex of any of their characters and could choose one to take a turn as. It was dope as hell. Order was Galad, Jake, Emily, Caldwell.

Galad used his first turn to kill Jens. Turned him to dust. Murph demanded a sad song play for his death, and he got Valiant Ol’ Cobb. (Beautiful orchestration. Un fucking earned). The remaining triplets then explained his best moments to Balnor, including asking Keychain if he was a blender and watching Friends with headphones but the subs on so others could read it. Nyack shot at Galad. Onyx smacked the shit out of Galad (with the help of a chronal shift). Galad used legendaries to hit and then power word kill Nyack. Nyack blamed Calder due to the fact he didn’t have chicken on his salad. The familiars freed the boobs. Zirk helped Bev use a “blue smite” (Windex reference) on Galad. Galad attacked and crit on Onyx. Hardwon smacked the shit out of Galad and killed him once again.

Paw Paw was then given the divine power Galad had and Murph said the audience could decide if he resurrected Nyack and Jens. It was a split vote. In the end, only Nyack was resurrected.

We then ended the show with a One Big Bed singalong. It was so wonderful and sweet and perfect.

All in all, it was a great fucking show. What an absolute gift. Here’s to 5 more years.

#naddpod #sorry for main tagging this but people might want to see it?? I did the read more for a reason. this long as hell.#naddpod Carnegie

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lestappenforever · 5 months

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Heyyy!! I just wanted to drop some thoughts on Charles Ferrari contract because it seems very fishy atm.

This entire assumption of a 50 mil extension till 2029 is going off of one (1) rumour spread by one (1) Italian source so already there should be some alarm bells. Plus, it is highly unlikely that Charles would sign it since even the rumours are saying that there is an agreement but nothing is on paper. And there may well be an agreement like this but it is highly likely that Charles will sit on it as long as possible and most likely until mid season which gives Ferrari enough time to demonstrate improvement. We know that especially in the latter parts of the season Charles has been increasingly disillusioned with Ferrari that stems from a combination of things that Ferrari and Fred are trying to publicly alter so it would suite Charles and his needs but as another anon here pointed out, Ferrari is Ferrari and the core issues don’t just lie with a shitty car this season but are actually embedded in the structure of the team and Ferrari as an organisation.

That being said, there is regardless no way that Charles would sign anything now because it makes very little sense; he has already been able to get lot just by putting pressure on Ferrari and casting doubt over his position with them post-2024, including getting a car developed around him and questioning if Carlos should continue with Ferrari as a second driver. It’s also been mentioned multiple times that he has said that his possible extension will depend on the car next year and it’s development and it is way too early to tell anything meaningful. Also this is basically the same rumour that circulated post-Monza and nothing came from it so it may be that an agreement doesn’t even exist although I am more inclined to think that there is an agreement but Charles won’t sign anything until much later on once he his confidence in Ferrari and being able to win a WDC with them is restored.

This second theory would explain why people related to Ferrari and Ferrari officials have Ben taking part in excessive public pandering for the past couple of weeks. There is much being said about how amazing Charles is and comparing him to Michael etcetc but that just seems like publicly trying to convince him and as they have done before, create public pressure and expectation for him to sign the extension. It may be that, just as the rumours post-Brazil, that these rumours were also intentionally spread for this same reason.

On thé other side is rbr and I really don’t think that all of the things that we have picked up on are suddenly void just because of these rumours. It is almost a certainty that charles and rbr went back into negotiating or at least having informal talks (hence the shift of the teams attitude towards Charles) about a possible future with rbr. For rbr, they don’t lose anything by trying to sign Charles. If they get him that’s great if they don’t then that’s fine because they have a considerably large talent pool to pick and choose from so they only have to gain in pursuing Charles. Obviously there may well be worries about dealing with two number one drivers but I think after Charles show in Singapore and Abu Dhabi they would be certain that he would be able to make sacrifices for the team, it would be a case of getting max on the same agenda but since we haven’t seen max be put into a similar position in a long time because of rbrs dominance, we can’t really say how he would act. Two number one drivers is a risk but as we have said before if any team potentially would and could do it, it would be rbr.

I am willing to bet that the moment pre-season testing starts, rbr will start to court Charles again and farming lestappen content because once more, they have nothing to lose, if nothing comes of it then they will still have massive engagement because as we are increasingly seeing: lestappen sells. Also, we should wait for the FIA prize giving ceremony on Friday because we are bound to get some interesting content. The devil works fast but Christian Horner works faster so let’s see.

Anon, I love you. I'm not even going to add anything to this because I agree with every single thing you've said, and there's nothing you haven't covered in this ask.

I just want to point out this particular part, because it is absolutely true:

The devil works fast but Christian Horner works faster so let’s see.

Only time will tell how this saga will actually end, and I'm personally very excited to see where it goes.

Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful thoughts! ❤️

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen asks #Lestappen gate 2023

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chibrary · 7 months

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The Chrimer: 2015, F3.

Everyone loves a good rivalry.

Charles and Max's karting history could-- and probably will-- be their own primer, but for Charles' 2015 season only one part really matters: Max jumps from F3 to F1. This casts a long shadow on Charles as his childhood karting rival.

Charles spends most of the year getting asked about seeing Max compete at the highest level of motorsport, like in this segment from a South China Morning Post article about the 2015 Macau Grand Prix:

For his part, however, Leclerc is keeping the focus on what’s right in front of him, rather than on what the horizon might offer as he sets out to tackle the tricky Guia circuit for the first time, knowing, of course, the greats of racing who have gone out there before him and still with comparisons to former VAR – and current Formula One – star Max Verstappen ringing in his ears. “I am taking things step by step,” says Leclerc. “I want to arrive in Formula One when I am more than ready and Formula 3 is a good choice in that I can learn and develop. And I raced Max all through my karting years and we fought each other at the finish, so I have always had the comparisons with him and I am okay with them.”

The jump to F3 is a last minute surprise: Charles had originally been tipped for a full-time Eurocup spot. Eurocup would have been more of the Formula Renault 2.0 level of competition Charles had experienced the previous year; F3 was considered a promotion.

In an interview, Charles was asked why he decided on F3 instead of Eurocup:

"After the season of last year, my manager and I thought that it would be better to jump to F3! Firstly, there are 3 races per weekend and 11 weekends so we drive a lot and so we gain a lot of experience! Then loads of drivers were planning to do it! And I felt really good in the car and the tests went well."

Surprisingly, Charles picks to race for Dutch team Van Amersfoort in the FIA Formula 3 European Championship like Max did the previous year. He essentially steps into his former rival's spot, replacing Max as team leader and taking his former engineer. This was allegedly on Jos Verstappen's suggestion, but there isn't much reference to that connection out there that I could find.

This doesn't help the comparisons.

Formula Scout-- in their 2015 Driver Profile of Charles-- would write:

Leclerc marked himself out as a real prospect in karting – so much so he topped our 2012 ‘karters to watch‘ feature, ahead of Verstappen. But it’s never a foregone conclusion that a successful karter will make a successful car racer. [...] Those performances suggested he would be capable of stepping up to F3, particularly as his old rival Verstappen had made it look easy and didn’t have the benefit of a year of car racing experience. And so he has proven to be. It’s still early days, but Leclerc has so far been the class of a large crop of rookies and taken the fight to proven F3 winners with multiple years of experience already under their belt. His early performances are on a par with what last year’s star rookies Esteban Ocon and Verstappen were doing – in fact, his record of two wins and five podiums from the first six races replicates the 2014 champion’s start. If he keeps it up, he will deserve to be held in the same high esteem as them a few months down the line.

They would ultimately summarize Charles' future as so:

While he’s got plenty in common with his old karting rival and Van Amersfoort F3 predecessor Verstappen, a lesser reputation and sensible management mean he’s unlikely to be making the jump straight up to F1 next year. He will therefore need to sustain this impressive form into an intermediate category like GP2 in order to make the grade.

Even with the comparisons to Esteban and Max, Charles still appears to be able to joke with both at the beginning of the season.

This lightheartedness would be needed, especially when Max was the special F1 driver guest for one of Charles' podiums:

Charles would start the season strong. As a rookie, Charles would top the morning running at the pre-event test of the opening round weekend by nearly half a second.

In true Charles fashion, he's unable to take the W:

"A good day," said Leclerc at the end of the test, after reviewing the results and drawing conclusions. “We have learned a lot, both about the set-up for qualifying and for the race. However, this does not mean that I am automatically one of the leading drivers this weekend as well, testing and racing are two different things. But needless to say, it's my goal to do it."

He would bring this momentum into winning in Silverstone, Hockenheim, Spa-Francorchamps and Nuremberg. I find the races themselves a little dull to break down race-by-race, but if you're interested.. an anon has provided video of every race here.

Charles would explain that:

“We arrived at the first race quite confident but obviously there were still had doubts from some people who didn’t know me when I arrived for testing. We were really fast from the first race which was a bit of a surprise because I was a rookie among all these experienced drivers so they didn’t really expect me. But from another point of view we were prepared, we worked hard and after testing it wasn’t that much of a surprise for us, how we went. We were quite confident.”

However... Charles' season would become inconsistent after a crash in Zandvoort with Lance Stroll would damage his chassis in a way that could never be correctly repaired.

Jules would pass the next week.

Charles would only podium once more during the remaining season, five months later in Macau.

He is quoted as saying:

“It is a good result, but I am never happy when I'm not first. Since I was a child I was never happy when I wasn't first. So, it is the still the same.”

Charles would end up finishing the season in fourth place behind Felix Rosenquist, Antonio Giovinazzi, and Jake Dennis. He'd still have 4 wins, 13 podiums, 3 pole positions and 6 fastest laps, making him the rookie champion over future F1 competitors George Russell, Lance Stroll and Alexander Albon.

Formula Scout would summarize his season:

VAR, like most, couldn’t keep up with Prema in the later part of the season but Leclerc seemed to lose some individual sparkle too. That’s forgivable for a teenage rookie though, particularly with the early-season highs becoming impossible to match. And no young racer should have to say goodbye to a life-long friend and mentor mid-season. Leclerc might not have been champion but he was F3’s standout talent in 2015.

Even with the issues in the later half of the season, he was still tapped to go into GP3 with Todt's team, ART Grand Prix. And he had some lighthearted moments:

(Behind the scenes footage here.)

One of the most lasting legacies of this season, though, is how it would set up the rest of Charles' career.

Charles did go into 2015 with very few sponsors outside of Todt. In a pre-season assessment, Formula Scout summarizes his off-track relationships:

No doubt assisted by the Bianchis’ tutelage, Leclerc signed with Todt Jr’s All Road Management firm in 2011. At present, Leclerc has no ties to F1 teams, but through his work with Felipe Massa, Pastor Maldonado and Bianchi, Todt has dealt with most of them and will be very well-placed to get his protege a role when the time comes. A potential stumbling point is that most F1 teams are already overflowing with some serious sub-F1 prospects, but if he continues to impress as he’s doing at the moment, they could begin falling over each other to find a space for him. Funding-wise, Leclerc benefits from partners usually tied to Todt’s projects, and watch maker Richard Mille (currently a sponsor of the Lotus F1 team) is his loyal main backer. And you’d imagine that being billed as a future F1 star from Monaco could well tempt some further future investment.

Lance Stroll would spend most of his single-seaters career against Charles as the Ferrari-backed driver until 2015, when he left to take a development driver role with Williams.

By this point, the Ferrari Driver Academy was heavily scrutinized to the point where it was speculated that they would do away with the initiative entirely. While Red Bull's junior program had brought Sebastian Vettel, Daniel Ricciardo and Daniil Kyvat to its senior team, no driver from the FDA had successfully made the jump. At the end of 2015, Ferrari team principal Maurizio Arrivabene decided to appoint a new head and restructure the program entirely.

Charles was rumored to be the next addition to the Ferrari Driver Academy in November 2015 as part of these changes; by December, articles were already talking as if the signing was inevitable.

In 2020, Charles would talk about visiting Maranello for the first time-- not as a friend of Jules'-- that year with his father:

I went with my father to Maranello (the home of Ferrari). I was 17 years young and extremely shy. I was scared because I didn't know if I was good enough to be included in the programme.

He was. He would end up impressing Ferrari in his two days of testing.

They would announce Charles as a member of the Ferrari Driver Academy in 2016, setting up both his next year and the rest of his career.

#year:2015 #vgp:topic #series:f3euro

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wraith-caller · 2 months

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D, Hunter of the Dead, or Darian, is easy for a lot of people to hate. He’s rigid, allied with the Golden Order, and a hunter of the undead, who may be in need of mercies which the Order isn't interested in providing. I often see him written off as sort of bigoted, callous, an asshole, and given little in the way of nuance that is afforded to (almost all of) the rest of the cast of complicated characters we encounter. So I’d like to try to tease out those shades of grey, highlight the very human tragedy of his backstory, as well as make a few (hopefully interesting) observations about his parallels with both Fia and Morgott.

🚨🚨SPOILERS AHEAD🚨🚨

I. A quick recap

Players can first meet Darian near Summonwater, where he warns us about the Tibia Mariner and Those Who Live in Death. If we harvest the Mariner’s deathroot and return to him, he’ll offer to show us to the Bestial Sanctum and ask us to take his place as Gurranq’s servant. He will move to the Roundtable Hold and gives us a little info on who he is, who he serves, his bitterness towards Rogier, and will teach us incantations which are especially effective against the undead. We can summon him for help in two fights: one against a Mariner in eastern Liurnia, and another against a Black Knife Assassin in the Black Knife Catacombs. If you’ve kept up with Fia’s quest, she’ll ask you to bring the Weathered Dagger to its original owner. Interacting with Darian while having this item will result in him wondering where you got it, offering to take it off your hands, and thanking you for it. Next time you come to the Roundtable, he’ll be dead, presumably killed by the Fia’s Mist spell.

II. The allure of acceptance in an otherwise hostile world

As with most characters, we’re given very little info about who Darian and Devin were or where they’re coming from. Info from the Inseparable Sword tells us:

The inseparable twins found solace in the Golden Order, the only institution not to revile them as accursed beings.

The reason for the harsh treatment appears to be related to their strange nature. The twins share a single soul between them, living otherwise as distinct, autonomous persons. Per the Twinned Set:

The two known as D are inseparable twins. They are of two bodies and two minds, but one single soul.

Elden Ring is full of curses and shunned beings, so it’s not all that surprising that the world saw these kids with their weird spiritual situation and just weren’t having it. What is surprising at first glance is that the Golden Order, who are generally experts at reviling aberrant lifeforms, are the ones to accept them. But it makes some sense. Marika birthed not one, but two sets of cursed twins. And of course, Marika and Radagon have a very similar condition. In the fight within the Erdtree, we see them as one singular body, shifting between two aspects. It likely wasn’t always this way, and they were probably two distinct beings at some point, like Darian and Devin. Aside from how impractical it'd be to ask us to believe that no one noticed these two high profile rulers were never active at the same time, the wording of some of Marika’s echos indicates the two were not sharing a single body at some point:

O Radagon, leal hound of the Golden Order. Thou'rt yet to become me. Thou'rt yet to become a god. Let us be shattered, both. Mine other self.

All of this is to say, Marika and Radagon’s nature may have at one point been exactly like the D twins: a single soul shared between two bodies. This is further teased at by the fact that we receive the Inner Order gesture from Devin, and the Outer Order after listening to Marika’s words in a church. While the placement of these gestures was likely much more about illustrating the difference in blind faith versus an examined one, given Marika’s dialog there, it’s certainly interesting that we are given these paired gestures by these two characters. It’s not common knowledge to people of the Lands Between that Marika and Radagon are the same, but perhaps enough people in the upper echelons of the Order know this so as to recognize the similarity, and thus accept Darian and Devin.

It's clear why the Golden Order might make an exception for the D twins. It also conveniently sets the stage for some very fanatical devotion. It’s easy to write off fanatics. After all, they’re, well, fanatical. They’re rigid, unchanging, uninterested in adapting to new information which sheds any unflattering light on their new group. We’re all quite susceptible to this, our propensity towards tribalism once being a valuable trait which helped us to survive in our species’ infancy. The D twins get this kind of cranked up to 11 because they suffered a lifetime of being not just unwanted, but actively despised by everyone. They’re reviled for something they have no control over. We don’t know anything about their life as children, but it wouldn’t be surprising to learn they were abandoned by their parents if all institutions saw them as reviled. It could be that their parents were also adherents of the Golden Order, but given that they are Tarnished, and that the Inseparable Sword description specifies that they found solace rather than took solace or similar wording, it reads as though they may have only really had each other until the Order took them in.

What does something like that do to a person, especially if they lived with such cruelty as children? The need to belong is fundamental to our being, and shunning on a societal level like this would be pretty devastating. And it isn’t just one society that’s repulsed by you – it is every society except one. While the Golden Order has done horrible things, that becomes a lot harder to focus on when the hands that have committed those wrongs are the first to ever be extended to you in kindness. It’s hardly surprising then that Darian doesn’t just serve the Order, but has woven it into his identity. He doesn’t have any interests to share with us outside of his dedication to the Golden Order, like Rogier with his desire to be a scholar. He was given a purpose by the only people to show him acceptance, and he will pursue it doggedly.

III. Morgott and Darian – “Thy kind are all of a piece”

I mentioned before that the Order may have been accepting of the D twins due to Marika’s own 2 sets of twins. Malenia and Miquella have no significant similarities to Darian and Devin. And while Mohg shares a sense of instability with Devin, they don’t have much more in common beyond their cursed nature. Darian and Morgott, however, share a handful of interesting parallels.

They’re both reviled and rejected due to the circumstances of their birth. Cursed through no fault of their own, both were likely abandoned for it and kept from participating in society. Both serve the Golden Order fervently, with Morgott presiding over Leyndell as king while Darian hunts the dead on their behalf. In spite of being mistreated for what they are, they both perpetuate that mistreatment onto others like them. Morgott keeps the Merchants imprisoned, and leaves the Omens to wallow in the sewers. Darian hunts Those Who Live in Death while refusing to accept Rogier’s discovery that they are a result of a flaw in the very thing Darian has devoted himself to.

And both have a less than stable twin brother, one they never mention but for whom we might be able to reasonably assume they care about all the same as they were both likely each other’s only companion for much of their lives. When naming all of his siblings as traitors, Morgott notably leaves out Mohg from his condemnations. Darian, if killed by the player, begs his brother’s forgiveness, and keeps his very existence under wraps, with only Rogier appearing to know of Devin. Of further note, Morgott and Darian walk above ground, under the light of the Erdtree, while both Mohg and Devin live beneath the earth, in the endless night of the Eternal Cities.

IV. Rogier – “Such adaptability is more important now than ever...”

Besides Gurranq, the only other person we hear much about from Darian is Rogier. The dialog these two give about each other indicates that they meant a lot to each other before their fallout. I touched on it in my post about Rogier, but in essence, while Rogier appears composed and maybe even a bit wistful about their old days, Darian seems to stew and fume with resentment. He talks about Rogier as someone who used to be all of these positive things, but that he gave it up when he fell from the righteous path and took up with Those Who Live in Death, ultimately becoming a victim of them.

Yet in spite of their apparent split, we still catch Darian helping Rogier out with his research. He tells Rogier about the markings he found in Summonwater, and he fights a Black Knife Assassin in order to help us bring the knife print back to Rogier. There’s a strange little back and forth between them and I can’t help but read it as Darian navigating an internal conflict he’s not all that familiar with. After all, he’s unlikely to have had a friend like Rogier before, given how he was hated by everyone. So he’s even more unprepared to deal with losing that singular positive relationship he had with another person who wasn’t his own brother, or ordained to accept him. So he struggles, both resenting Rogier for his sacrilegious discoveries and maybe regretting parting ways to begin with. It has him fuming one moment then bringing back peace offerings the next.

They’re a classic case of opposites attracting, and the polarity between the refusal/acceptance of change was their downfall. Rogier encountered new information, was able to integrate that into his reality, made the challenging admission that he’d been doing wrong, and tried to fix it. Darian listened, but simply shut it down. It’s easy to write it off as bigotry, fanaticism, or whatever else – Fia indicates that the undead are unjustly persecuted by the Order, and Rogier tells us they aren’t malicious but rather unfortunate bystanders. Darian is too rigid in his beliefs to accept change, especially a change so radical as this. And he’d have to admit that he and Rogier may have been perpetuating an injustice in their brutal treatment of Those Who Live in Death.

I think there’s another pretty important factor in this which is often overlooked in discussions of Darian’s inability to adapt to the idea of a flawed Golden Order. And that’s in how much of his self-worth, his self-esteem, is going to inevitably be tied to the only people in the world to accept him and his brother as being fit for life. He wasn’t just exiled from his home after witnessing Grace like Fia or Roderika, he was reviled by everyone from day one. As I’ve said before, this leaves an indelible mark on a person, and such extreme shunning and forced isolation from society are a form of psychological torture. This is bound to leave a person with some trauma and maladaptive traits, and one that is relevant here is Darian’s inability to handle the Golden Order being mistaken about something so personal. This isn’t some mild administrative mistake, or even a major miscalculation in a war. It is a mistake about who is accursed and who isn’t, who is fit for society and who isn’t. And if they’re mistaken about the dead, who else are they mistaken about?

Normal people who have normal lives have a hard enough time accepting change. And those normal people have an even harder time taking in that change if it conflicts with some belief they already hold dear. So for someone like Darian, a change like this is not some trivial adjustment. It could be world-shattering for him, and would take loads of effort to accept, an effort he’d then have to make entirely on his own since his initial reaction was to flee from the conflict that brought it on altogether. He left Rogier, unable to handle this revelation, finding it easier to deny it altogether than accept it. And that in itself must tell us how painful this new truth would be for him – as someone viewed as accursed by all societies outside of the Order, Rogier very well could have been his only friend. Darian was willing to sever that link in an effort to preserve the reality where he has acceptance and a place in society. It is a very human reaction, and one that I feel deserves a little bit of reflecting on when we consider Darian and his motivations. This isn’t a standard case of someone being a stubborn ass because they can’t admit they made a mistake. This is something akin to cult indoctrination, when a traumatized person’s identity is far too wrapped up in people who told them that they are good, and that it’s everyone else who doesn’t love them.

V. Fia and Darian as caregivers

These two have more in common than you might think initially, since they’re positioned on opposite ends of the spectrum in the matter of death. While Fia seeks to uplift the dead, Darian would terminate them. One reviles the Order while the other reveres it. But both know very well what it is to be an outcast. Fia is exiled from her home after seeing Grace, and upon her arrival to the Lands Between is seen by some as “vulgar”. It’s her first taste of receiving the kind of scorn Darian would’ve known all his life.

But she still finds it in herself to care for others. And I would argue that Darian does too. Fia seeks to bear the hatred and disgust others have for the dead, to protect them from persecution. She has a gentle bearing that invites us to let our guard down around her, is soft spoken, steady, and calm. Darian shares a similarly placid disposition for the most part. Where Fia wants to protect the dead, Darian seeks to protect others from them. While he hunts the dead for the perfection of the Order, he clearly cares about the people the dead inflict themselves on. Upon first encountering him in Limgrave, we overhear him speaking to one such victim of Those Who Live in Death, saying:

I'm sorry, I cannot give you your proper rites... But at least you did not join Those Who Live in Death. Your soul will return to the Erdtree, in time.

He gives what comfort he can to this person, admitting that it isn’t much. And he does his best to warn us away from the village, trying to keep us from harm. When we return with the deathroot, he names us a comrade. Contrast this with Tanith or Varre, who ask us to kill for them to prove our allegiance. Darian does the opposite, telling us to leave the dead alone lest we fall victim, chastises us as foolish for taking such a risk to get the root anyway, and then invites us to serve Gurranq. He’s uninterested in pressuring or forcing us to join him, much less in having us bloody our hands for his own approval.

In his cut dialog for the Dreambrew quest, his thoughts go not to his own personal enjoyment of the drink we offer him, but to the victims of the dead. He says:

Alcohol, to make a libation? A fine idea. The Lands Between brim with the dead. If a drink can serve even as a small rite of remembrance, that is enough.

And then there’s probably the most blatant symbolism of this caring nature seen in the form of his armor and his posture with it. He literally holds his other half protectively in his idle stance, cradling the head of his twin as he is clutched by this smaller, frailer form. Even in death, repositioning the camera beneath him shows him shielding the bust as if to protect it from Fia’s fatal attack on him.

I often see Darian characterized as cold because of his distaste for the undead. But all of these little things about him add up to me as someone who is more concerned with being conscientious and caring of the living.

VI. Conclusion

I don't anticipate changing many minds about Darian. This is a pretty niche corner of an already niche fandom, after all, and it's super tempting to pick sides in search of which group in the game is right or wrong, which is going to pave the best way forward. Most characters in the game are doing something less than moral in an effort to advance an agenda, whether their own or that of who they serve. But at the same time, they usually have interesting and sympathetic motivations pushing them towards those goals. Fia murders Darian and never tells us her true goals until we find her with Godwyn, never letting us know that we were assisting her in killing someone, maybe even a friend, when she handed us that dagger. But she does all this in an effort to protect those she sees as persecuted. Darian is the one persecuting that group, but he does it as someone who has seen the violence the dead inflict on the living, as someone who has lived the very same persecution, as a servant to the only people to ever stay that persecution for him the way Fia would for the dead. This game is not interested in giving us neatly delineated good guys and bad guys for the most part, which is what makes their stories so compelling even when we're only given a few breadcrumbs. But it's also why it's strikes me as a bit short-sighted to write any one of them off as wholly irredeemable.

#d hunter of the dead #darian elden ring #elden ring meta #heres to hoping i dont get hate mail for this one friends!! 🍻#lol who am i kidding there are 3 ppl in this world who would read a 3000 word essay about d hunter of the dead #but we dont choose our hyperfixations do we...#wraith meta

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