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sunsshinesunny · 22 days

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Twenty Four: There’s Been An Accident

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Monza was definitely special, I knew from watching on TV this place had a magical feeling surrounding it but there was something breathtaking about being here in person, surrounded by the team and seeing all the love the Tifosi had for the two boys in red. Charles knew how to give us all a heart attack, the last few laps of the race were so intense and I was pretty sure we were only moments away from having to get a defibrillator on Fred, especially when Charles locked up so close behind Carlos.

“Je n'ai jamais vu mon fils aussi heureux. I've never seen my son so happy.” Pascale said softly, resting her hand on my shoulder.

“Peut-on lui en vouloir, tout le monde l'aime ici. Can you blame him, everyone loves him here.” I beamed, keeping my gaze focused on my man who was currently standing on the pit wall with the crowd going crazy underneath him. He was in his element signing things for them and it warmed my heart seeing him doing what he loves.

“Nova, sweetie, I was talking about you.” Pascale chuckled softly, causing me to turn my attention to her, the smile on her face was as bright as the Italian sun. “Ever since you came into his life, I noticed his outlook has changed, as you know this season hasn’t been the best for him so thank you for making him smile again.”

I felt the lump form in the back of my throat, I knew how much Pascale meant to Charles so to get her approval made this weekend even better that I could have ever imagined.

However, all that was about to change and my mood was about to plummet into the earth.

The sound of my phone ringing caused me to freeze, it wasn’t my normal ringtone that was blasting out of my back pocket, this was the sound I had set for Pops. He never rang me, most of the time he had no idea where his phone was. My stomach dropped, my mouth went drier than the Sahara desert, I had a feeling deep in my gut that whatever this phone call was about it would cause my world to come crashing down around me.

To everyone it looked like Charles’ attention was solely on the crowd in front of him, yet in reality he was listening to everything that was going on behind him, focused on his girl and Mum. Nothing could wipe the smile off his face, even though he came fourth, Monza always meant a lot to him and now to be able to share this moment with someone as special as Nova made things so much more special.

Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that Nova was now on the phone. The look of panic on her face caused Charles to worry, whoever was on the other end of the call must have dealt her some devastating news.

“Pops, take a breath, you aren’t making any sense.”

“What’s going on? Is everyone okay?”

“ACCIDENT?!?!?”

“Pops, who is hurt?”

Charles felt the pit in his stomach as he clambered off the pit wall, rushing over to Nova placing his hands on her shoulders. “Is everything okay, Sunshine?” he asked, trying to get a read of the situation. All of the color had drained from Nova’s face and her hands were starting to shake. “Come on, let's move out of the way of the crowd, give you some privacy,” he said softly, guiding his girl away from the fencing. The lack of response he was getting caused his mind to race, had something happened to Jax or Elenor? “Put it on speaker babe.”

Nova pulled the phone away from her ear, following Charles’ instructions.

“JT, it’s Charles, what’s going on?” he said in a panic as Nova tried to hold back the tears from spilling over her lash line.

“There’s been an accident involving Jax.”

Charles watched as fear completely took over Nova’s body, her knees giving out from her the moment her father said her brother’s name, luckily Charles was quick with his reaction, catching her before she landed on the floor.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she cried, gripping onto Charles’ hoodie.

“It’s bad Nova, really bad,” JT’s voice was starting to crack as he spoke. “Tig found him at the side of the road his Harley totaled along with Jax unconscious on the floor.”

Charles felt tears burning his eyes, as he held onto Nova letting her cry into his chest. He needed to get her back inside as he knew all attention would be on the pair of them even though no one could hear the conversation the atmosphere around the track had taken a turn. “I will be on the next flight home,” she breathed in between her cries.

The minute the phone call ended Charles quickly guided Nova back into the safety of the garage, not stopping until they were in his driver’s room along with Pascale. The air felt heavy in such a small room but all Charles cared about was getting his girlfriend back to Charming to be by her brother’s bedside.

“There aren't any flights to Cali until this time tomorrow,” his mum sighed, looking up from her phone.

“I will get Andrea to make sure the private jet is ready,” Charles hummed, running his thumb across Nova’s cheek trying to wipe away her tears. “Everything is going to be okay, babygirl.” he whispered, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

“No it won’t, you don’t understand,” Nova cried, tangling her fingers in her roots. “Jax is the best rider I have ever known. He wouldn't have just come off his bike like this, something must have happened.” Charles' heart shattered with every word she said, she sounded so broken and there was nothing he could do to fix the situation. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, okay. Family comes first, so within the hour we will be on the flight back to Cali.”

“Char, no!” she scolded, looking up into his green eyes. “You aren’t coming with me, you have the Pirelli tyre testing tomorrow.”

“I can bail, Fred will understand.”

“Nope, ain’t happening, this is your dream and I am not letting you jeopardize anything because something has happened back home.”

Charles let out a heavy sigh, he knew there was nothing he could do to change her mind on this. Looking over at Pascale he shot her a look causing her to nod in acknowledgement. “I will go with you, sweetie,” she whispered, placing her hand on Nova’s back. “And don’t try and fight me on this, you are in no state to travel on your own and I have a feeling you might need an extra pair of hands back in Cali.”

Within the next forty minutes they were standing on the tarmac of the airport, the private jet was ready to go as soon as Nova and Pascale had boarded. Charles was struggling to hold back tears, he hated saying goodbye even though he had a plan in place but it still didn’t make this any easier, especially when his girlfriend was distraught not knowing the state of her brother’s health.

“As soon as you find out how he is, let me know,” Charles whispered, pulling out his ipad from his backpack. “Take this, I have made sure all three of the Cars movies are downloaded onto it along with Monza 19 and a few other good races.”

“Char,” Nova whimpered, smiling weakly at him as she took the device, “thank you.”

“Try and get some sleep on the flight baby, you won’t be any help to anyone exhausted.” he whispered, resting his hand on her cheek before pressing a tender kiss against her lips. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Every step I took felt like I was being crushed further into the floor, the clinical smell of the hospital assaulting my senses. Since the phone call with Pops I had no updates so I had no idea if Jax had gotten worse or improved but I was sure as hell gonna eat the boys alive for not texting me even if it was just to say “no change.”

I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest with how fast it was pounding against my ribs, my stomach was in knots and I felt like I was only moments away from throwing up. Jax had to be okay, he needed to be okay. I couldn’t go on without my brother, not with how Pops was. My thoughts drifted to Elenor and that's when the tears threatened to spill over my lash line.

Did she know?

If she didn’t know how was I going to tell her that her daddy isn’t well?

I had no idea what floor Jax was on let alone what room but I didn’t need to, my body was on autopilot and with every step I took it was guiding me to my older brother. As I ventured down a corridor I could hear the sounds of Tig and Chibs bickering in the distance causing me to roll my eyes. Suddenly I found myself frozen on the spot, no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t get my legs to move, it was like someone had just nailed me to the floor.

“Sweetie,” the calming voice of Pascale came from behind me as she placed her hand on my shoulder. “I know how worried you are but take a deep breath,” she quickly appeared in front of me, forcing me to stop, “I know this is going to be hard but I am here for you and so are your family, so fall back on us.” Following her instructions I slowly nodded, scared if I spoke I was going to break down into tears.

“I knew she shouldn’t have gone, she should be here not at some fucking race track!” Tig exclaimed, claiming my full attention. Is that what he really thought, did he really think it was an easy decision for me to go with Charles? “I knew that boy was trouble the moment I laid eyes on him. And now look, Jax is lying unconscious in a goddamn hospital bed with Nova is nowhere to be seen.”

“That’s way outta line!!!” Chibs snapped, I could practically hear the growl in his voice as he spoke. “That lassie deserved to have a break so I’d be careful what you say next because brother or not you will be the next one in a hospital bed if you carry on talking about Nova and Charles like that.”

Running my hand over my face I needed to intervene making sure this situation didn’t get any worse. I kept telling myself that Tig was only acting like this due to the stress of the situation but I think deep down I knew there was some truth to his words, ever since the morning he interrupted us in the kitchen he had been different towards me.

“If you have something to say Alexander, say it to my fucking face!” I scoffed loudly as I turned the corner, instantly being met with a very pale looking Tig. “I have just spent the last 12 hours on a plane, I am stressed to the max and very very cranky, do not fucking try me right now.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond before barging past him, making a b line straight for Pops, the moment I was close enough I flung myself into his arms trying to find some sort of comfort in his touch. “How is he, Pops?” I whimpered, feeling like a lost five year old.

“Still unconscious, the doctors won’t let us do anything because you are his next of kin,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, my heart sunk knowing how hard this was on him, because of his declining health he couldn’t make the decisions needed for his son’s care “they did have to take him for emergency surgery though.”

Pulling away from him I slowly made my way to the window of the room everyone was crowded around, placing my hand on the glass my heart shattered into a million pieces seeing my brother lying in the hospital bed. The moment I laid eyes on him the tears started to fall and there was no stopping them. The doctor in the room made eye contact with, whispered something to the nurse before she quickly made her way out to me.

“Are you Nova Teller?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, that's me,” I whispered, afraid if I spoke any louder my voice would give out on me. “How is he?”

“Come inside, the Doctor will update you on your brother’s condition.” she nodded.

“I want my Pops and Pascale in the room with me.” I stated, roughly wiping my eyes with the sleeve of Charles’ hoodie.

“Of course,” she said, opening the door for the three of us to enter.

The moment I had passed her I made my way to the seat next to the bed, automatically taking Jax’s hand in mine. “Oh Jaxy,” I whimpered, taking in the road rash that covered most of his arm and cheek. Once again I found myself fighting the tears as I looked up at the ceiling of the room praying to all the gods to keep him safe.

“Miss Teller, your brother is very lucky,” the Doctor said, his tone was stern which caused me to shift in my seat, I felt like I had been transported back to 16 year old me sitting in the principal's office with Jax after we decided to spray paint the reaper on the gym wall. Pushing the memory down I took a deep breath as the doctor continued. “He has broken his right leg, but due to the severity of the break we had to surgically fix the bones back in place, meaning he now has a titanium rod holding the bones in place. He has road rash covering a lot of his left side and had to be rushed for emergency surgery due to a ruptured spleen,” he paused, looking back at his clipboard for a moment. “His toxicology report also showed he was nearly four times over the legal blood alcohol limit.”

“When will he wake up?” I breathed.

“That is all down to Mr Teller, the anesthetic has worn off now so it is just a waiting game unfortunately.”

Taking a deep breath, I looked back down at my brother. We were going to need as much help as we could get whilst he was recovering, I knew the next few months were going to be a challenge. I knew Chibs would step up covering the President’s role in the club but I had no idea how I was going to cope with getting Jax back to full health alongside looking after Elenor and Pops.

“You aren’t in this alone, sweetie,” Pascale said softly, squeezing my shoulders, like she was inside my head, “I will be here as long as you and your family need me.”

The hours had passed and I had no idea how long I had been in the room, all I knew was I wasn’t leaving Jax’s bedside.

“I swear to god, if you don’t wake up I will smother you with your goddam pillow!” I cried, clutching his hand. The tears were freely rolling down my cheeks, Jax had been one of my lifelines for so long.

I couldn’t lose him now.

He was the reason I found my voice, he taught me how to fight much to Pops annoyance, he was my partner in crime and always had my back when I needed it the most. He was also the reason why I was so happy, without him I would have never taken the plunge with Charles, I would have more than likely hidden myself away not to make a fool of myself.

“You gotta fight bro, we need you to pull through,” I paused, taking a deep breath, “I cut my time short with Char, because you we stupid enough to ride four times over the limit,” I scoffed, staring at him trying to see any signs of movement.

“I didn’t ask you to ditch him,” Jax mumbled, his voice raspy from the endotracheal tube used for the anesthetic. The sound of his voice caused me to freeze, seeing his blue eyes staring back at me. “Oh that’s it, give me the silent treatment,” he hummed, smirking at me.

“Do you know how fucking stupid that was, you had a daughter who needs you and you could have killed yourself,” I said narrowing my eyes at him. “I could punch you in the face right now.”

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sunsshinesunny · 22 days

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Twenty Four: There’s Been An Accident

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

“Je n'ai jamais vu mon fils aussi heureux. I've never seen my son so happy.” Pascale said softly, resting her hand on my shoulder.

I felt the lump form in the back of my throat, I knew how much Pascale meant to Charles so to get her approval made this weekend even better that I could have ever imagined.

However, all that was about to change and my mood was about to plummet into the earth.

“Pops, take a breath, you aren’t making any sense.”

“What’s going on? Is everyone okay?”

“ACCIDENT?!?!?”

“Pops, who is hurt?”

Nova pulled the phone away from her ear, following Charles’ instructions.

“JT, it’s Charles, what’s going on?” he said in a panic as Nova tried to hold back the tears from spilling over her lash line.

“There’s been an accident involving Jax.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” she cried, gripping onto Charles’ hoodie.

“It’s bad Nova, really bad,” JT’s voice was starting to crack as he spoke. “Tig found him at the side of the road his Harley totaled along with Jax unconscious on the floor.”

“There aren't any flights to Cali until this time tomorrow,” his mum sighed, looking up from her phone.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, okay. Family comes first, so within the hour we will be on the flight back to Cali.”

“Char, no!” she scolded, looking up into his green eyes. “You aren’t coming with me, you have the Pirelli tyre testing tomorrow.”

“I can bail, Fred will understand.”

“Nope, ain’t happening, this is your dream and I am not letting you jeopardize anything because something has happened back home.”

“Char,” Nova whimpered, smiling weakly at him as she took the device, “thank you.”

Did she know?

If she didn’t know how was I going to tell her that her daddy isn’t well?

“Are you Nova Teller?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, that's me,” I whispered, afraid if I spoke any louder my voice would give out on me. “How is he?”

“Come inside, the Doctor will update you on your brother’s condition.” she nodded.

“I want my Pops and Pascale in the room with me.” I stated, roughly wiping my eyes with the sleeve of Charles’ hoodie.

“Of course,” she said, opening the door for the three of us to enter.

“When will he wake up?” I breathed.

“That is all down to Mr Teller, the anesthetic has worn off now so it is just a waiting game unfortunately.”

“You aren’t in this alone, sweetie,” Pascale said softly, squeezing my shoulders, like she was inside my head, “I will be here as long as you and your family need me.”

The hours had passed and I had no idea how long I had been in the room, all I knew was I wasn’t leaving Jax’s bedside.

I couldn’t lose him now.

“Do you know how fucking stupid that was, you had a daughter who needs you and you could have killed yourself,” I said narrowing my eyes at him. “I could punch you in the face right now.”

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sunsshinesunny · 22 days

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FINALLY I'M SO HAPPY OMGGGG

in love with the mess - day twelve

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she’s decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and… well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, some degradation), angst, fluff, Yungblug appearance lol

length : 8.3k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens @sunsshinesunny

a/n : time to find out what you’ve been craving to know for a week! enjoy and leave a comment 💕💕

•••

day twelve

Spending the whole night talking after an exhausting show, knowing fully well we had an early bus call, a four-hour drive to London, soundcheck and another show, wasn’t the wisest decision Oli and I had ever made, but it was a completely necessary one.

Seguir leyendo

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sunsshinesunny · 22 days

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The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

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sunsshinesunny · 22 days

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it's insane that i'm getting this on my tl, now i'm gonna have to watch Saint Seiya again

Happy birthday Shion

I almost fucking died making this for you

you're welcome

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sunsshinesunny · 22 days

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your honor i love them

LET ME BE THE LIGHTER | MV #CH12

series summary : max raced knowing he’d win. You raced as if you had nothing else to lose. That was something the fans of F1 had grown accustomed to since you joined. Being the only driver who could truly make the Max Verstappen break a sweat during this season, all the odds seemed to be in your favor during one eventful race where you could finally overtake him on the last few laps, breaking his winning streak and also —by consequence — yours and his peace in the near future.

warnings : swearing, fighting (just a bit but nothing too serious), one mention of an anxiety attack.

↻ links : prev . masterlist . next

CHAPTER TWELVE # BETRAYAL .

“Princesa…Max?”

Verstappen quickly presses the low button of your phone’s volume and raises a finger to his lips, begging the Spanish man on your screen to lower the voice as he jumps from the bed and steps into the bathroom.

You only shift a little in your position, furrowing your brows and sighing before relaxing your features and turning to the opposite side to continue sleeping.

It’s four in the morning and Max thinks this isn’t a time to be calling in general, but considering Carlos was a dear friend of yours and had decided to FaceTime you instead of shooting you a quick text, then whatever he wanted to tell you may be urgent or relevant.

“You flatter me, Sainz.” Verstappen puts a hand on his chest, attempting to sleepily smile to dissipate the growing annoyance he feels upon seeing your friend’s face at this moment. “I didn’t know I was also your princesa.”

Carlos laughs awkwardly, positioning his phone against something to free his hands and bring a dog with white fur into his lap. “Didn’t have you as someone that liked to joke around…”

“Don’t worry, that’s because I only save my good humor for my friends.” Max spits rather bitterly and rests his back against a wall after closing the door. “Now, why are you calling? It’s four in the morning. Yn arrived a few hours ago, you know? She had a hard week —.”

“I know, but this was important.”

“More important than allowing her to rest? Her father passed away. She went back home for the funeral and had a rough couple of days —.”

“Max, man, I’m her friend, alright? I know. We talked a lot during that week. You aren’t the only one worried about her. Now, I’m sorry I called so early over there. I totally forgot about the time difference but I thought I needed to discuss this as soon as possible, so please, can you wake her up?”

“Fuck no. Let her rest and call later.”

Max graces a thumb over the screen intending to click the red button to end this conversation and return to bed, but Carlos speaks again. “Mercedes wants to drop her for next season, Max.”

The Dutch stops his movements abruptly and scans the screen with detail, trying to decipher if the Spaniard is playing some kind of horrid joke on him just to stop him from cutting the call, but all he finds is a palpable concern through the pixels and a tension slowly creeping between the two.

“They cannot…” Max whispers to himself. “How do you even know that?”

Carlos stays silent for a few seconds, setting back the dog on the floor before extending an arm over the camera and grabbing something from behind it. A pile of papers comes into view first, too brightly white for Max to read what they say until the man brings the title closer to the lens, allowing him to read properly.

It’s a contract.

They sent Carlos, out of all people, a draft of a contract for next year.

“Since when? How can they just…?” Unable to finish a sentence, Verstappen pressures himself to rationalize the wave of thoughts that wash over him so violently to materialize the questions that appear every second as he dwells on the information.

None of this makes sense and he is confused at the moment.

You’ve been giving it your all to Mercedes from day one. He knows that because he had been following the process of training your team put you through.

Red Bull liked to keep tabs on all of their competitors and when word got around that you were the chosen one to replace Lewis, he wasted no time gathering all the information, videos, and anything people could give him about you.

Not every day you’d see a team risk it this badly for a driver with no previous experience, let alone someone who wasn’t known through F2 competitions or F1 academy. So it was only natural for him to analyze your technique and possible ways of driving; for all he knew, you could be the next in line for a championship and an actual threat —, especially because Hamilton was supposedly your mentor for many years.

Max had no doubts about his performance and talents. He knew he’d win the season no matter what, but it was important for him to know everybody on track and you were new, so he had to study you.

Because of that, he ended up following your path through the paddock way more closely than expected, and more than anyone he could corroborate that you were more than what Mercedes could have imagined or deserved. Although you worked incredibly as a team with George, your talent alone was undeniable. You were pulling even better results than your friend and actually turning this competition into something more enjoyable for the public and Max.

He finally had someone to race against, fighting toe to toe for the trophy, and far from stressing over the possibility of losing, Max looked forward to the challenge and waited anxiously for every race just to prove himself worthy once more.

The Dutch could recognize your terrific skills and admire them, so why couldn’t your team think the same? How come they were already looking for a replacement?

“This is fucking stupid.” Max finalizes his train of thought. “You aren’t any better than her,” he spats with utmost honesty, and in a fraction of a second, your voice plagues him. ‘Be nice, Emi.’ He hears inside his brain, like the voice of his conscience but in your tone as a reprimand, and he backtracks slightly. Carlos is your friend, not your enemy. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you are good, but Yn is also pretty good as well. Why would they want her out?”

“That’s what I wanted to discuss with Yn, man. Something here is not alright. I noticed a few things back when I replaced her for those two races. I didn’t pay them any mind at first but now everything is becoming a bit more clearer.”

“Care to share?”

Max grows agitated. You don’t need to receive this bad news. You had recovered quickly for the team, brushed off the possibility of taking some time off again due to your family problems, and returned for the competition without showing any signs of struggle just to avoid inconveniencing everybody.

You put your team before you time after time and this is how they repaid you?

“This is just a theory though. I’ve got no way of confirming this but…” Carlos drops the papers on the table and grabs the camera, bringing it closer to his face. “I saw some stuff on those weeks. Some documents — by accident, of course —. And I got this thought. I mean, it's not like I had the chance to read through the stuff but —.”

“To the point, Sainz.”

“George’s car is way too different from Yn’s, or at least, it was, according to what I could read and see.”

“Yeah, but that’s obvious, Carlos. Both cars have the same outline but different settings. They need adjustments for each driver.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. What I noticed is that George’s car was almost fully upgraded by the time I joined and Yn’s was basically the same from beginning to end. The documents I saw quickly had some planned upgrades, but only for Russell. If anything, it looked like they were pouring all the money on him.”

Max looks down puzzled. That could mean anything and nothing to him. All teams had different strategies and ways to design their cars and set-ups. From day one, Max never suffered a downgrade on his equipment so the idea of yours and George’s car being that different did not make much sense in his brain.

“If they wanted George’s car to be faster then they did a terrible job at it. Yn kept on surpassing him on every race.”

“I thought so too but those notes sparked my curiosity so I asked a few of the mechanics in charge of Yn’s car about the design and stuff, and they told me they usually tried to keep the vehicle as intact as possible because they hadn’t received new equipment for upgrades in a while and they were worried the car wouldn’t resist for longer. It was too unstable according to them, so I tried my best to be careful with it because, at the time, George arrived and told me Yn’s car wasn’t planned to receive any upgrades until the end of September.”

“It’s November, Carlos.”

“Exactly.” The Spanish man nods along and continues. “Yn managed to bag some more wins but I’ve seen her radio transmissions specifically. She always presented some issues with the setups, the brakes, and anything else. Her car was falling apart and it worried me so I decided to go back to her old races, — like the ones for the first two or three months —, and these problems were already there back then too, they just intensified with time. I mean, what are the odds that George basically adapted to the car in a matter of days from the beginning of the season, and with Yn it took months? Because, at first, I believed that was due to the lack of experience, but then I gave the thought a second chance, and it made no sense. I saw Yn during training with Russell. They were on equal machinery back then and she got ahold of that car easily and raced it way better than him. You understand what I mean?”

“They are sabotaging her.”

“I’ve got no proof but also no doubts, especially now that they want to kick her out.”

“It still makes no sense. Like, let’s roll with your story for a second, okay? Yn got the worst car out of the pair yet she managed to win more than once this season and on many occasions, she finalized on top of George. What sort of updates did they put on Russell’s car to make him fail regardless?”

“I’ve got a theory.” Carlos moves from the original location to what looks like his room and sits by the window, letting the light of the afternoon hit his face fully. “Maybe the strategy isn’t for Yn to fail in comparison but for George to save face near the end of the season. Like, if you really think about it, at some point, Yn’s car will slow down. It’s already on the brink of falling apart anyway. And when that happens, who will have the fastest and better car? George. After months of getting questioned over his skills as a leader and driver, he’d pick up the team the moment Yn starts losing, and bring in all the points. Plus, Yn already became a well-known threat to other teams, so no one would expect George to step up and outrace her or anybody else, not when all the wins and good results he had bagged so far were due to the strategy he played with Yn, where she became an actual shield between him and the rest of the grid on track.”

Max digests the words slowly, deepening into his thoughts and picturing the strategy Carlos is painting to him.

Dirtier plans had been pulled between drivers in the past and with the strict regulations set on the drivers, all competitors needed to come up with better moves to finalize on top of their teammates. After all, the better a driver performs, the more chances they will have to get better and richer deals in the future.

Everybody wanted to win at the end of the day and George was no different. He had been fishing for a trophy and the public respect for a hot minute now, and this year was supposed to be all about him, not you yet you outperformed him every other day.

If Max really wanted to think this through from a calculative perspective, then he had to consider Carlos’s words. Russell was your friend second and your competitor first.

“Do we have a way to confirm what you are saying?”

“Not now at least, but I bet if we get ahold of those documents I saw back then, we will confirm or discard the thoughts I have.” The man reasons and pauses briefly before continuing. “I think what we should discuss first is her future. I don’t want to end up in Mercedes, but they don’t want her either if they are already fishing for other drivers and she needs to know as soon as possible.”

“I will let her know and you can call her later to give her the details, but omit your theories, okay? She is already under a lot of stress and we don’t know for sure if the team is sabotaging her or not.”

“Okay, shoot me a text when you think she’s ready to talk to me.”

“Will do,” Max sighs, more tired than ever at this moment. “And I will let you know when I get ahold of those papers too, okay? Just send me details about them, — like, I don’t know, the color of the folders? A title? Anything you remember, so I know where to look.”

A knock on the bathroom door makes Verstappen jump on his place scaredly, and he quickly hangs up, flushing the toilet to play pretend before another knock rings against the wood.

“Emi? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Star. Everything alright. Just go back to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Your silent steps grow apart from the entrance of the bathroom and Max breathes out a sigh of relief, finally seeing himself in the mirror.

Your phone is still gripped between his fingers with ferocity and the panic is visible on his face.

Carlos better be wrong about all those theories or else because the thought of you not longer racing for Mercedes was already scary enough to send his mind into a frenzy, but if you were to depart knowing your team had failed you that badly, then Max would close the season stamping George’s car against a wall pretty badly as payback.

No way in hell he’ll let them disrespect you like that.

@ /notbabyn has posted…

maxverstappen, oscarpiastri and 1.346.233 others liked this post…

notbabyn. small escapades with the king of my heart, mr. roscoe and his walker and shit collector, lewis. 💛

view comments…

lewishamilton. i’m the shit collector or the shit-hearer with all the complaining i heard from you during the trip?

notbabyn. more like the shit-gossiper babes. all the tea you spilt i already knew 🙄, of course i was gonna complain. your tales are as old as your age.

oscarpiastri. finally you went to that place with daisies i told you about! did you like it?

notbabyn. ofc dear 💛🤍. it was the loveliest thing ever. Next time, you, lily and i need to go

lewishamilton. you can spare the papaya boy a nice comment but cannot even give me ONE sweet caption after i took you there 😒

notbabyn. hashtag #youarenotblessed #grumpyseniorcitizen

oscarpiastri. hashtag #gobacktobedgrandpa #itspastyourbedtime

ynstappenrules. wait where is max?? why is she alone with lew?? is he ok with that??

theynarchive. i love love to see my family reunited 🥹

ynlovelies. now i want to see yn wear a helmet full of daisies or something. i think yellow could be a good color to use 💛 she’d look so pretty

lilymhe. my pretty girl! i hope you had a great time 🫶🏻

notbabyn. it was good but it could have been better with you there 🥺 (miss you queen)

mercfans63. shouldn’t you be working?? i swear 🙄 its so clear that you are toto’s fave

lewisleftnut. thanks for the new lew pic 🫡

notbabyn. how much for that username?

lewishamilton. I will make Roscoe shit all over your clothes if you save an username about my nuts. Consider yourself warned

lewisleftnut. OMFGGF SKWKSKWKS

notbabyn. @ /lewishamilton you hate to see me thriving man. that’s not fun 😒

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“The wine is delicious in this restaurant.”

That’s the first thing you denote as soon as your glass arrives halfway served. The white and yellow-ish shadow it casts, mixed with little bubbles, almost have you thinking they messed up your order and brought you champagne, but the moment you taste it the wine soothes your tongue and throat, clinging to it softly like a hug and you cannot help but smile and relax briefly.

Max digests your presence like a dish with his eyes pierced on your figure, and although his undivided attention is something you are well accustomed to, it only boosts your ego to see him so obviously ogling over you.

He had prepared for this improvised date gleefully, if you may admit. From the wardrobe to the restaurant he picked, everything was impeccable and lovely in your eyes.

To see him waiting in your driveway with his car parked and his figure resting against the passenger door, you knew you’d have a hard time focusing on your objective due to his magnetic presence.

He was wearing exactly the colors you liked on him and an attire that left you wondering if he received some outside help from a friend or went on a last-minute trip to a mall, because you couldn’t recall ever seeing that silk-like dressing shirt in his closet, nor those dressing pants either matching with his casual shoes.

He appeared relaxed holding onto a small bouquet of red flowers for you and a little velvet box with a white bow on top but when you got close enough to him to plant a kiss on his plumpy lips, you noticed him struggling to breathe and his arms almost hesitated to wrap themselves around your figure.

It had you smirking devilishly and the gesture never truly left your features completely throughout the drive to the restaurant. If you weren’t admiring your boyfriend with fervor, you were laughing a bit too softly and hawking almost maliciously, and Max seemed to notice your change in demeanor which made all of this even funnier and entertaining for you.

It wasn’t a matter of when you’d explode on his face but rather when he’d have the courage to tell you the truth about what happened in the garage.

You could be patient. Not for many things, of course. You lacked the determination to wait for long periods to get what you wanted in a lot of instances, but if discussions were the topic and you knew you had the upper hand, you sort of enjoyed seeing the other person slowly crumble under the expectation of something happening.

You knew this trait wasn’t one of your best but you couldn’t help it. You hated it when people lied to you, especially your loved ones so you believed, foolishly, that they deserved to waver under your gaze little by little until you deemed yourself ready to confront them.

“I’m glad you like it, Schatje.” Max clinks the edge of his glass with yours as a sweet and short toast and takes a sip of his whiskey. “I’ve heard only good things from this place.”

“Well, I thank you for bringing me here, love.” You give him a shy smile and mentally curse yourself for dropping your unpreoccupied facade under his gaze so abruptly. It’s nearly impossible for you to not feel the butterflies violently flying in all directions inside your stomach when he observes you so lovingly and attentively. “I think I will order the steak.”

Max raises a hand only slightly towards the waiter who previously welcomed you two and brought you drinks, and the young man approaches your table. “My partner will have the steak with…?”

“Salad please, but no tomatoes.” You announce.

“Steak for the lady with salad, and you Mister?” The waiter grabs the menu you hand him as you pronounce a nearly inaudible thanks.

“I will have the same, thank you.” The third person leaves your small bubble of contentment and Max’s hand creeps on top of yours, interlocking your fingers together and giving you a little squeeze to bring back your attention to him. “Have I told you how lovely you look tonight?”

“Only three hundred times, darling.” You joke and giggle a little, sweetly bringing up his knuckles to your lips for a chaste kiss. “You also look incredibly handsome tonight.”

“Really?” A small blush tints his pale cheeks, casting a different shadow on his skin freshly shaved and you extend your free hand to his face, brushing a thumb over his warmed spot tenderly.

“Of course, dear.” Lovingly, you stare into his eyes and retreat with a smile, letting go of his grasp on your hand as well. “It’s such a shame you decided to dress up this nicely for such a horrible night.”

Your back rests against the booth and you scan his discomfort without shame.

It’s been enough of this wonderful acting. He knows he is lying and you know it too. He needs to stop trying so hard to get on your good graces before you end up storming off this restaurant and leaving him behind.

“Horrible? What? Baby —.”

“Answer me something, Max. Do you think you can keep me happy with a few dates and some expensive gifts?” You taunt him and he nearly winces over the shift in your demeanor. “Distract me with money, perhaps?”

“No, what makes you —.”

“Then why are you taking me on a date right after lying to my face and giving me presents?” Calmly, you wrap your hand around the wine glass and take a sip.

The yellow shadow reflects through the glass a deformed view of the small star hanging over your neck.

Max’s present shines over the liquid and he barely gets to see it before dropping his gaze to the table, wishing to be anywhere but here at the moment.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He whispers through gritted teeth.

He is very much aware of your intentions now and although he does recognize the blame is on him, he does not like your way of approaching the situation one bit.

You do not need to make such a scene over this, let alone treat him this poorly.

“I will tell you what I mean.” The glass sits back close the center of the table and you put both elbows near the edge of it. “Toto called me saying he surprised you going through his documents earlier today and when he confronted you about it, you said you were looking for something I asked you to pick for me. — Now, we both know that’s a lie, and when I asked you about it, you straight up told me everything but the truth as well, so…will you actually tell me what was going on or do I have to agree with Toto on his decision to ban you from the garage?”

“You played with me,” Max whispers, recalling the texts you sent him.

“No, you played with me. What the fuck where you doing at the Mercedes garage, Max?”

The Dutch falls back on his chair, pressing two fingers over the bridge of his nose.

From your perspective, he is being unbelievably uncooperative right now and his actions are not helping his case in the slightest. Toto is beyond pissed with him and you and the call you received in the middle of your short trip with Lewis not only fueled your anger but also your anxiety.

You nearly had an attack in the car as you heard every possible insult in existence coming from your boss, effectively ruining your perfect family afternoon, and while you could recognize that your tactics to approach this situation weren’t exactly the clearest nor best, the moment Max gave you only excuses and his story did not match with Toto’s, all alarms went off.

Your first thought was to blame Max’s dad and his team. They had already forced him to do something he did not want in the past and their actions affected you greatly back then, but after pondering over this possibility for way too long, you resolved that if it were the case, then Max failed once more to set his foot down and put some limits around his family and work pals, throwing you under the bus in favor of avoiding any conflict.

If this hypothesis was proved to be correct despite your blossoming relationship and much more trusting nature, then you’d be put — once more — in an incredibly tough spot.

You had forgiven Max before for failing to defend you and attempted to understand his situation, but you could only shield him so much before losing your temper and lashing out at him. Now more so that he was your boyfriend and not a mere stranger trapped in an unhealthy family dynamic.

“I already told you —.”

“Lies. You told me lies,” you interrupt him and the waiter approaches you with two served plates, setting them on the table and forcing you to smile politely before signaling him to leave. “Now you can tell me what’s going on or I’m walking out.”

“Listen. It’s complicated. I’m just trying to protect you here, so if you could be a bit more cooperative I’d be way happier and enjoy my steak.”

You take the final sip on your glass and grab a napkin, wiping any residue from your lips, and drop the cloth rather ungracefully on the table, jumping up. “Great. Enjoy your dinner.”

Max sighs and watches you walk around the edge of the table rapidly before catching onto your wrist. “Baby…”

Seeing his hand on your skin and then back to his pleading but exhausted eyes, you nearly feel compelled to simply drop this and discuss it later, but his attitude unnerves you and so you decide to shake off his grip and leave him on his spot, already thinking of catching a cab back to your hotel room.

He could be damned for all you care at this precise moment. All you asked for was sincerity.

Did you ask for it sweetly? No. Did you treat the situation with more tact? Also no, but you were angry. You couldn’t be expected to think rationally at all times and remain patient and sweet when you were getting taken for a fool by someone you actually deemed as trustworthy.

Letting the cold air of the night hit your face, you step out of the restaurant, passing by the parked car of Max and many others, until you are four or five streets away and sure of your directions.

The city is foreign to you but you do remember bits and pieces from the short drive from your place to the dining spot and you are almost dead set on returning by foot to the comfort of your room.

Maybe if you tire yourself enough you’d end up having a good night of sleep as soon as you slip under the covers instead of wasting many hours tossing and turning around in bed, overthinking about everything as you usually do when stressed.

Why was it so difficult for Max to communicate what was going on? His lack of information helped your mind run rampage over many possibilities, scaring you shitless over the many prospects of his presence in the Mercedes garage.

His reason to be reading important papers from a rival team could vary from possible espionage to sabotage and many more, but none of the outcomes of this situation gave you any peace because Max simply shouldn’t have been there to begin with.

You were competitors first and foremost and maybe you had forgotten about it. Maybe the thin line between your relationship and your career had finally faded and now everything was getting mixed.

“Schatje!”

Picking up the pace, you hug yourself from another wave of cold air and pray for the next light to be red for the cars just so you can cross the street more rapidly and avoid your boyfriend.

“Come on, love! Please stop and let’s talk!” Max’s voice booms across the open space way too loudly for your liking and you close your eyes violently for a second before reaching the end of the street and stopping because of the vehicles still passing.

“What?” Defeated by the laws of the street and vehicle transportation, you turn around and glare at him.

“Baby…” He catches a breather, stopping in front of your and his words fan you momentarily. “I’m sorry, please, let me drive you home.”

“No.”

The light turns green for you as your body turns around, and you step into the street, beginning to cross it with Max following behind you.

“Then I will walk you there.”

“Do whatever you want as long as you stay quiet, Max Emilian. I’m tired of hearing you babble.”

If the situation was different you’d be apologizing for your harshness right on this instant, backtracking in fear over your own attitude and quivering under the edge of your sharply-tipped tongue, but in this case, you don’t feel an ounce of remorse.

Your irritation is justified in your eyes and by now you don’t expect anything from your boyfriend besides excuses or more lies.

“For fuck sake, Yn. I’m trying to solve this. Can’t you at least give me a chance to explain myself?”

“I gave you one back at the restaurant and you did not take it.” You reach the other side of the street when Max turns you around against your will, making you face him.

His anger reflects on you, or maybe your anger reflects on him, who knows. Both of your chests are raising rising up and down with agitation and your eyes dig holes in one another, unafraid of the confrontation but simultaneously incredibly exhausted over the prospect of arguing.

“You want the truth? Fine.” Max spits, setting both hands on your shoulders to ground you in your spot. “Your team has been sabotaging you for months now. They don’t need you anymore and if we don’t act fast, you won’t have a seat for next season. Happy? That’s the fucking truth.”

Silence pierces through needles. With each pause, a little stinging feeling hits you, signaling another carved point on your skin.

You drum your nails against the white marble, touching softly onto the many grey lines across it and stopping your wincing after the third dig of the invisible needle on your flesh.

It is with the precision of a surgeon that you trail a path to cut from every explanation you receive, and by the time all the men around you close their mouths you can comfortably picture the body for inspection, ready to get dissected by following the lines you had drawn in invisible ink.

Another needle pokes your ribcage when Carlos gives you a look of pity through the screen and the pain prolongs with the sound of a teacup landing right in front of your hands, spitting their vapor up to your chin before you notice Lewis’ presence prepping himself on a seat in front of you.

Max remains by your side, both arms crossed and a stern look reflecting on your camera as a painful reminder of your previous discussion.

“Do you want to take the deal?” Your voice is devoid of any emotion and a few fingers wrap around the tiny handle of the cup, bringing it up. “Be honest with me.”

Honesty…what a funny concept.

Hours ago you craved it and now you feel repulsed solely by pronouncing it.

“Not like this.”

“I’m not asking you under what conditions, Carlos. I’m asking you if you’d take the deal.” A sip passes through your lips, burning the sharp end of your tongue and you swallow the liquid feigning ignorance of your pain. “Forget this has anything to do with me. If you could, would you take the deal?”

“If I didn’t know about this, I would take it, but I don’t want your seat.”

“It’s not my seat and if this is your only chance to return then you should take it.”

Max turns to observe you with surprise painted all over his face, and his shock appears contagious, reaching Lewis as well and centering all the attention on you right now.

“There is no way —.”

“Don’t turn them down because of me. If you think you can do well in Mercedes you should go for it. I will find a team.”

Your iced responses begin to melt little by little, dripping through your words with tints of consideration and the next silence that follows has you wincing again.

The situation hurts. No matter how hard you try to mask it, the disappointment pierces through you so harshly the pain can be barely retained inside of your brain and if you were to truly express what you were truly feeling right now, all the men would hear would be sobs and complaints.

“I will think about it.” Your Spanish friend takes note of your effort to remain calm and collected and decides to free you from any further discussions. “But please do call me if you need any help dealing with this, okay? And…” He stops, unsure of how to word this properly. “Max? I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

“It’s alright. I just want what is best for her.”

Your boyfriend’s words may be the final blow you need to your crumbling anger and the moment the two men share a polite smile you decide to end the call, no longer in the mood to bear with the weight of your action.

It is uncomfortable to be in your skin right now. Your emotions are all over the place, splattered in buckets of colors across a white wall; nothing makes sense and you cannot find a grip on reality. A part of you desperately wants to scream and argue with everybody who crosses your path, and another half of the three fights with your pride, forcing you to apologize before anything, while the remaining busies itself dissecting the situation and cutting through the hard flesh around you in order to find the correct layer you need to present yourself towards the problem at hand.

You must say sorry. You must think of the many paths you can take. You must regulate your emotions to think clearly. You must, you must…

“Okay, dear. Let’s focus.” Lewis starts and you nod, grabbing the cup of tea and stepping out of the kitchen zone with the intention of drinking on the sofa.

“I will leave you two to discuss things.” Max continues and you stop your movements, shaking your head in negativity.

“No, please, stay. I still owe you an apology.”

“Apology taken, now focus on this,” Verstappen attempts to take one of the many weights from your shoulders but you snatch it back in place.

“No, that’s not enough.” You murmur and place the cup on your coffee table. “I’m really —.”

“Dear, you can discuss whatever happened later. Now we should focus —.”

“Lewis, please just…” You breathe out and drop on the couch. “Shut up. What I have to discuss with Max is also important.”

Hiding your face on the palms of your hands, you momentarily lose sight of the two men approaching you and everything turns dark and quiet for a couple of seconds, allowing you to breathe out a sigh of frustration and a groan.

Max takes a seat next to you, placing an open hand on your back and beginning to soothe you shyly under the confused watch of Lewis.

“I’m gonna get a fucking migraine,” you chew over the words and look up finally, not finding a trace of your mentor but luckily having your boyfriend by your side. “I’m so sorry.”

Your voice cracks under the pressure of your sadness and frustration inciting you to cry, but you don’t let any tears fall from your shiny eyes.

Always the stubborn woman, you attempt to regain your composure, fearing your emotions at this moment and deeming them as weakness under the circumstances.

“It’s okay, Schatje.” His voice lures you into a spot of comfort and before you can think about it, your arms are wrapping around his middle, craving his warmth. “I shouldn’t have hidden this from you.”

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.” Max places a little kiss on top of your head. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It wasn’t my intention either,” he confesses. “I guess I just wanted to protect you. I thought I could deal with this myself and make your life a bit easier in the process, but I shouldn’t be making decisions for the both of us.”

He returns your hug and you dig into his perfume, smelling it through his clothes.

“I thought the worst,” you admit upon hearing his sincerity. “I always think the worst actually. I’m so used to things going wrong I automatically think someone is out to get me whenever I notice things out of place. I get why you wanted to protect me from this, I would have reacted the same way if I knew someone was messing with you but I don’t do well being kept in the dark, you know? If you really want to help me you need to fight with me, not for me.”

“I understand, love. No more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” you repeat softly.

Lewis returns to the small place with two more teacups for him and Max, and you separate from your partner slowly, reaching for your own tea to soothe your interior with the warmness of the drink and this time the silence does not pinch like a needle.

Still, your mind timidly begins shifting again to the task at hand and you find yourself separating fully from your lover and snapping into a place of fragile tranquility.

It is impeding that you come with a resolution. You’ve allowed yourself to remain unfocused and hopeful for the future, already assuming your seat was secured because of your performance, but now that you knew that wasn’t the case, you needed to come up with a plan to finish this season on a positive note for the public and a new deal in a better team.

“Let’s act like nothing is going on until I can come up with a solid plan, okay?” You announce and both men nod. “Did you take any pictures of those documents you saw, Emi?”

“Of course. I’ve got them on my phone.”

“Print them. We will need them as back-up in case they want to get rid of the evidence, okay?”

“Should I contact my manager? Maybe we can start discussing with other teams about your future.” Lewis offers and takes a seat by the floor, right on the opposite side of the table and well positioned in front of you. You make a gesture of unsureness and the man sighs. “Let me help with that, okay? I suggested this team to you in the first place.”

“Lew, please don’t feel guilty over this.”

“Cannot help it, dear. I should have known better really. They weren’t exactly thrilled to see me go to Ferrari. Maybe they are doing this as payback.”

“I don’t know, Lew…” You trail off and Max hums in agreement.

“I think that’s an option,” the Dutchman chimes in. “They made his life miserable the moment he announced his departure. I don’t think it’d be that far fetched to think they would also take some of that resentment on you too. You are like his sister, plus, their favorite was George and you took away the spotlight.”

“Let’s not put George in the same bag here. He is completely blindsided by Toto.” You remind both men of your teammate’s predicament.

“Do we know for sure that he isn’t involved in this?” Max questions and Lewis nearly winces, shyly nodding along to his words.

“I…” You pause. “I don’t know. I guess I’d like to believe he isn’t actively trying to sabotage me.”

“We can start over there, then.” Lewis suggests. “First, we make sure we know who’s on your side and who isn't, then we see what we can do with that. I will call my manager. Maybe we can start drafting a public letter to the fans and announce that you won’t race for Mercedes next year.”

“No, no.” You cut him off. “No public letters. Tomorrow is media day. I will announce it there. We’ve got three more races before the season finishes. If they are so excited to kick me out then I might as well make it easier for them and break the news myself, right?”

Max cannot help but smile sheepishly. Perhaps tomorrow will finally be a media day he will enjoy attending to.

@ / maxverstappen via instagram stories...

caption #1 : in charge of cooking tonight @ /notbabyn and @ / lewishamilton caption #2 : no caption . caption #3 : apparently, all it takes to convince my gf to wear my clothes is good wine and homecooked food. noted ✔️

# taglist one : @alilcloudy @chiliwhore @halleest @welovediaaxx @its-avalon-08 @hiireadstuff @prudyhoo @almostjollypizza @butterfly-lover @sunsshinesunny @tsukishitm-a @be-your-coffee-pot @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @ironmaiden1313 @indesicivelyconfuzzled @sargeantdumbass @asmoothoperator @brettlorenzi3 @lewisvinga @dr4g0ngirl l @fruity-dirtbag @ladyladybuggg @woozarts @casperlikej @marshmummy @leclercdream @namgification @mellowarcadefun @c-losur3 @boiohboii @xoscar03 @theseerbetweenus @reidsworld @laura-naruto-fan1998 @sltwins @reyanfia @mvk1ma @softieekayy @entr4p3 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @dear-fifi @forza-dolce

— taglist #2 in the reblogs !!

A / N : well well well...I ended up with five different versions of the same chapter and this one ended up being the most convincing, but still, I think it kinda sucks. I don't know. Anyways, I will be working on the third and fourth chapters at the same time in the next couple of days because both of them will be connected (and pretty long) so don't grow worried if updates get slower, okay? Anyways, as always let me know your thoughts and I hope you have a wonderful rest of the week! mwah <3

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sunsshinesunny · 23 days

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please help a girlie out

If anyone could recommend any good BMTH, Bad Omens, MIW, or sleep token fics, i'd be the happiest gal ever

love yall

#oli sykes fanfic #bmth fic #bring me the horizon fanfic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #motionless in white #motionless in white fanfic #motionless in white fanfiction #miw fanfic #bmth fanfic #sleep token fic #sleep token fanfic #sleep token fanfiction

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