#Racing Mechanic Luca

[littleconan]

Drawings I did for Naib & Luca's bdays!

~ ~ ~

Both are based off an RP I have with my GF. The music box on the nightstand in the first drawing was a gift from Luca. It's during Halloween. Naib offers Luca a dance since they're missing the festivities outside.

And then with Luca's bday piece, the kalimba was a gift from Naib. Luca's playing while Naib takes a little cuddle nap.

#Identity V #NaibLuca #IdentityV #naib subedar #luca balsa #deckart #IDV #LucaNaib #I swear I posted these on their respective Bdays. I just always forget to post my stuff to here. 😩 #Cheshire Cat Naib #Racing Mechanic Luca

[strawberrysainz]

about you. charles leclerc

“ snippets of times your paths cross. and how you begin to intertwine a little. / in which you, after many months, find your way back to him again. ”

charles leclerc x fem!reader

word count: 3.7k

strongly advise listening to ‘about you’ by the 1975 just for extra vibes idk

The first thing you think, as he gestures for you to lean into the window of his car - Andrea is holding up your red iPhone to take this picture you may have dreamed of since forever - is that he smelled very real.

It sounds ridiculous. Of course it does, but there is a significant way in which he smells like almond and vanilla scented something that makes you feel like you’re sixteen in your shower with your mum’s body wash she was gifted that in turn was for your own use (she liked soap bars instead).

And as the man smiles and counts down from three, you try to smile effortlessly- you will be showing this photo for years to come- but instead your grin is real, because he is real now, you will remember the smell, his smile, the soft lilt of his voice that you knew wasn’t his proper one.

“Thank you,” you say for a moment, sincere. The Sunday evening is early and welcome, his race win is fresh on everyone’s minds.

“And congratulations.” You add, as an afterthought, smiling. “I seem to have forgotten that.”

He falters for a moment - your casualness has seemed to startle him - and your friends are already pulling you away from the car, wanting to beat the traffic. Andrea hands your phone back and you lean a bit awkwardly over Charles to get it. Charles is staring at you with some sort of amusement, and as you shout a goodbye and a thank you, he waves with a grin as some boys run up to the car.

You laugh into the night air as you get into the taxi, staring at the photos, some candid, some not, of the two of you.

His smile is as big as yours, clearly ecstatic about his win still.

🍷🍝📷💋

A few months later - it’s summer - and you’re in Italy, hot nights and all the Aperol Spritzes are powering you through the days. You’re bundled up in the front seat of a little Volkswagen Beetle on your way to someone’s villa/winery when you notice two guys standing on the side of the road with a car that’s run out of petrol.

You gesture to your friend, and she sighs, and you pause the song and stick your head out of the yellow car. “Are you guys okay?” You say in that heavy accented English, and with a jolt you realise it’s Charles and Joris.

Your friend has realised too - she was at the Grand Prix with you that night - and Charles is staring at the two of you through those RayBans, a little laughing smirk on his face. “The car’s gone.“

“Are you sorting it out, or…?” You say, giggling a little; Joris looks very uncomfortable in the summer sun.

“Everyone’s closed. We called. It’s a Sunday.”

“Get in,” you say, sharing a glance with your friend, “Come have some lunch. One of our friend’s dad is a mechanic, we’ll see what he can do.”

You watch him debate with Joris silently, and then with a shrug they get in.

“This is Stella,” you say, smiling, and introduce yourself too. Charles’ face kind of squints with recognition. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I met you in Monaco the night you won,” you smile, kind of embarrassed, and he slaps his thigh, making a noise of recognition to be nice (but you know he doesn’t remember that interaction at all).

You nod and Stel talks to them for a while, talking about how lovely Italy’s been in August, and the road is winding away until you’re at Luca’s.

🍷🍝📷💋

You friend Luca is very drunk, you note, the flush on his cheeks and the lazy lilt to his voice are very apparent. When he recognises Charles - this friend group is F1 mad - he hugs him and runs away immediately to get him a drink.

You’ve let your friends take on the role of entertainment for the guests, opting to strip down to your bikini and hop in the pool. It’s a scorching hot day, and you lather on sun cream before relaxing with a spicy margherita in your hands.

Your girlfriends pounce, Stella telling the story of picking up the hitchhikers and one of them thinks she can “totally bag Leclerc” before you’re all called inside for the food.

Before you walk in, you slip on the pair of denim shorts you were wearing and some sandals. Charles has a drink in hand and is sitting at the table already, the pasta and homemade bread having been broken into. Stel pulls you in to sit opposite him and Joris, and you lean over to dish some salad while Charles discusses the watch on his wrist with one of your friends (it’s the car chase robbery story that went viral a few months ago). Joris watches on, looking a bit awkward, so you lean in and begin to make some conversation.

He gladly accepts the invitation to talk, and you launch into a conversation about the holiday he is on before getting stuck on the road. You realise Charles is watching you speak now, oddly engaged, and you look down at your food, cheeks hot.

“So you two were in Monaco, right? For the Grand Prix? How was it?” Charles says, smiling sort of amicably, and a rush of embarrassment engulfs you as you smile at him. “So good. We loved it.” You say, and Stella launches into a story about a weird man who sat next to you on the grandstand.

🍷🍝📷💋

You squeeze in to the middle of the backseat, between Charles and Joris: your bare legs brush against them both in a moment that has you scrunching your nose with disbelief, Luca’s dad rattles on in Italian in the passenger seat with a large petrol can in his lap.

Twenty minutes later, you’re back on the hill on the dark and you’re hugging Charles and Joris goodbye, waving them away. You blow a kiss and get back in the backseat, laughing, shaking your heads.

🍷🍝📷💋

Seven months later, the cold February air finds you in Milan as you walk by an open window. You’re here for work, for Fashion Week, and you drift between fashion houses and shows, writing about them, chatting to models and designers and curators and it’s all so elegant, fun and exciting.

Next on your list is Ferrari’s show in the early evening, looking down to your list, and the waitress brings over your drink in the cosy restaurant.

Sitting on a cold hard (concrete?) bench across from the runway, you’re sitting between to an influencer with the most gorgeous pink jacket you’ve ever seen and an old fashionable Italian man with leathery tanned skin (how is he so tan?), and you launch into conversation with him about his experience this week so far, making notes. The show is as good as it could get for the brand, their classic leather, green and red and yellow ensembles with some gems in between that you adore. It’s alright, you think, it’s average, and just as you’re debating leaving someone roars in Italian and holy shit, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz are walking down the runway.

You immediately begin to laugh a little under your breath, taking some pictures, and as Charles passes your side the girl next to you tries not to shout.

They look pretty cool, you think - all leather pants and shirts and vests, stuff you think they could use a little more of for their everyday fashion. You cheer along with everyone else as Carlos blows a kiss when they leave, laughing a little.

🍷🍝📷💋

You’re just about to leave when a girl comes up to you and engulfs you in a hug, and you tentatively grip her back before looking back, only then relaxing. She’s from university, she eagerly recounts memories of 1st year linguistics class. She hands you a glass of champagne and invites you back to the after celebration, and with a shrug - it can’t hurt, right? - you follow, being led into a room at the back.

It smells like too much cologne, and you scrunch your nose as you find a stray canapé to munch on when Joris calls your name.

Of course he’s standing there, and you run over to give him a hug.

“My saviour!” He jokes, and you laughed, staying by his side to have a chat. You can’t believe he even remembered you. You’re chatting about your latest projects when you’re interrupted by a hand on your shoulder. It’s Charles and Carlos, and Charles has to stare at you for five seconds to figure out who you are before he says your name, squeezing your shoulder. You stand there, rocking on your high heels for a second before he introduces you to Carlos.

“She saved me and Joris in Italy last summer when our car ran out of petrol, we had lunch at their friend’s house.”

Carlos laughs a little when Joris chips in. You’re staring at someone walking past in a great pair of red leather pants when Joris taps your arm.

“We still have to pay you back for last year. Do you want to go for dinner with us?”

Now Carlos’ girlfriend, Rebecca, has turned up, achingly beautiful, and Carlos introduces you and you kiss cheeks before she nods and says she’s so hungry too.

So you end up in a big black car, and Charles is phoning the restaurant and they don’t have a table for 5pm until he does a subtle name drop and then they magically do. Italy has a big love for him, their il predestinato. When you all pull up, there are a lot of people milling about outside, in sparkly dresses and sweatpants, lots of makeup and bare-faced, and you spot Suki Waterhouse when you walk in.

They give you a spot near the back, the brown wall making the space warm as you and Rebecca slide in to the booth.

They order aperitifs and you all chat about what you’ve been seeing this fashion week, the boys’ experience walking, and then you talk to Rebecca about her life for a while.

Then you all order seafood, and it’s delicious and tastes like it’s been made with joy and love.

“I still feel like we have to repay you,” Charles says, catching your attention, and you laugh and shrug the idea away. “This dinner’s lovely. It’s okay.”

“Can I give you and … -“ Joris murmurs to him, “Stella nice tickets to Monaco? Or Monza? Is that fine?”

“Monaco,” Joris nods, and Charles looks at him then back to you. “Really, it’s the least we can do.”

You are busy turning down the offer when Charles shakes his head. “Sorry. See you in May.”

🍷🍝📷💋

You and Stella giggle gleefully as you hear the little sound of your card authorising your access to the paddock. The two of you intertwine arms, walking down. You walk around, peering at everyone supposedly trying to get on with their business in the Thursday morning.

You send a text to Joris, and you just keep walking around for twenty minutes until he replies and says he’s sent someone to come get you. It’s a woman, and she has a lovely smile and she takes you to the hospitality - it’s upstairs, because the paddock is so small in Monaco, and you two have a glass of champagne before Joris appears, slightly sweaty. He’s just got here, he explains, him and Charles - they were slightly held up by fans.

You and Stella laugh and hug him.

🍷🍝📷💋

You spent the day just talking with Joris and other people in the hospitality about their jobs. It’s genuinely the best experience, and it’s nearing 6pm when everyone starts closing up and you are standing near the entrance/exit of the paddock, Stella in the bathroom when Charles comes up to you.

You’re on your phone when you hear him walk up, and you look up with a smile. You haven’t seen him since that dinner - three months ago - and when he pulls you into a hug you feel a rush of energy (electricity?) flow through you. His smile is big and bright.

“How was your day?” You ask, fiddling with your phone case, and he sighs dramatically. “Busy. Monaco is always crazy.”

You nod.

“How was yours?”

“So great. The people in your team are so wonderful. I had a really lovely day.”

Your dress swishes in the wind and you see him cast a glance down at your exposed legs before meeting your eyes again. “Me and Joris are going to do pasta tonight. Do you want to come over for it?”

“Stella’s still here…” you say awkwardly. “I’m not sure what she wanted to do, she mentioned going out.”

“Oh.” He nods. “Ok.”

Stella comes back from the bathroom and she smiled at Charles. “I never got to say thanks for this trip, it’s been great so far.”

Charles smiles at her. “No problem.”

🍷🍝📷💋

Friday comes and goes, a slightly uneventful day (you don’t see Charles, he’s too busy with the practices and the press) and there you are on a rainy Saturday morning.

Stella insisted on hiring a bicycle to get the ‘authentic experience’ so the two of you are busy cursing the weather in plastic rain jackets as you whiz down the streets on bright green bikes.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment when you see that Charles and Andrea getting off their bikes as you arrive. He notices you, sodden like a wet rat, your nice jeans probably ruined, and giggles in the pouring rain, coming over to help you off your bike and give you an awfully cold hug. His arms wrap around you and you feel him kiss your cheeks, so you return them, but you’re shivering so much he keeps his arms around you until the same nice lady from Thursday comes with an umbrella and takes you inside. You wave goodbye to Charles as he goes to the garage and you blush, your hair soaked still.

The woman takes you and Stella to a tiny little room with cupboards and points to a drawer that contains a hairdryer and a Dyson airwrap (to your delight) so the two of you end up hair-drying yourselves dry - jeans and all. You also get to touch up your makeup after you dry your bag with the hairdryer too.

Nice and warm, you’re given cappuccinos and you peer out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the track, and see the boats rock in the harbour due to the rain and the wind.

“I don’t think we’ll have qualifying on time at this rate,” another man comments, also a guest of Ferrari, and you and Stella nod, trying to seem up to speed with track condition information.

So an hour later the two of you get to watch the boys film a YouTube video, and part of a vlog they seem to be making.

Afterwards, Charles comes over with Joris, and the four of you chat for twenty minutes before Charles is called away. It’s soft conversation, irritating talk about the weather because of the people around you, so you’re glad to change the topic when he leaves.

“What are your plans for tomorrow evening?” Joris comments. There’s a big party, you’ve heard from the groups of rich and famous people, happening on this gigantic yacht tomorrow, but you haven’t scored an invite so you might just go clubbing. But that sounds embarrassing, so you shrug. “Not sure yet.”

“You have to come to this big party an old friend of Charles is hosting. It’s on this yacht and everyone will be there.”

You and Stella fistbump under the table.

“And what are you guys doing tonight? Charles said you guys were having pasta last night.”

Joris looks a little surprised for a moment then quirks his lips in thought. “Probably not anything. He likes to be alone the night before the race. But last year we did this little dinner at his brother’s house which ended up being really nice.”

You nod.

Qualifying is postponed until five o’clock, and you’re taken to the paddock club by someone to be able to stand at the top and peer down at the track.

The rain has quietened down, yet there’s a lot of tyre warfare, teams mistakenly putting on hards before spinning out so there’s a red flag or two before Q3.

You watch the big screens to see Max score pole, and with a wince Charles is only third.

It’s highly upsetting because of how crucial qualifying is for Monaco. So everyone supporting Ferrari (Carlos is sixth) lets out a heavy sigh before going back to the hospitality.

🍷🍝📷💋

It’s 8 now, the sky dimming, and Stella has plans to see an old school friend so you hang around the hospitality, dreading taking the stupid bike back to the hotel.

There’s an energy in the air tonight, the kind you only get in a different place at night. It’s that kind of powerful feeling. You’re talking to one of the chefs as they all finish their service for the night when Charles comes to pick up food, and you’re surprised to see him when he comes to stand next to you.

“Hi,” you say softly, smiling when the chef you’re talking to launches himself at Charles for a hug, speaking rapid French.

“Where’s Stella?” He asks, and he’s checking how his food looks through a peek at the polystyrene container when you reply. “She has plans with another friend tonight.”

“So what’re you doing?” He looks up at you.

“Avoiding taking the bike back to the hotel, then I’ll probably have dinner there.”

“If you ride that stupid big bicycle 5km back to the hotel now at night and in the rain alone I’m going to kill you.” His expression is one of concern.

You laugh as he laughs too, his cheeks warming.

“I’ll get someone to come pick it up, I know they work at the company. Please let me take you somewhere for some food?”

“Don’t you want to wind down before the race?” You ask, uncertain.

He shakes his head. “You won’t be a bother.” He says quietly, and you blush, looking down at the floor.

So you two leave, and he’s got a car waiting for him, and you sprint from the hospitality because the rain’s started to pour again.

🍷🍝📷💋

You have to stop at his apartment so he can drop off the food that he now probably won’t eat and so he can change out of his garishly red clothing to be a little more discreet.

You two stand alone in the lift, and you look at him in the mirror for a moment before your eyes meet and he looks away.

His apartment is immediately cosy in the way a man just has stuff everywhere. He has a coat of his mom’s you can borrow after he noticed you shiver when you got out of the car, and when he hands it to you the look on his face is so tender you feel a little anxious.

Going back down, you stand a little closer and get back in the car. He smells comforting now, like that cologne you once caught a whiff of one hot Italian summer day.

Scrolling through your feed, your phone lights up the car and he gets a call from his mom, talking softly in French to her.

You lock your phone. The driver tells you to connect to the aux via Bluetooth and you freeze up with anxiety. But when you start with a Fleetwood Mac song Charles is mouthing the words silently as he texts someone so you relax.

Because of traffic, it takes you forty minutes to get to this restaurant tucked away on a quiet street. Charles opens your door for you.

Entering, the maître d’ is an elderly woman and she hugs Charles so tight. You stand there behind him and she comes to hug you too. She seats you two far away from the door after he asks.

“I think you should get pasta. It’s unreal here.” He says, after you’ve both ordered water.

You smile. “What are you eating?”

“Probably just a chicken salad. Have to stay in order for tomorrow,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “I’m not eating pasta if you have to eat a salad. That’s sad.”

You then bicker for ten minutes until the woman - Gilda - comes back. You make him order first - a chicken Parmesan salad - and then order the same and he shoots you a look (he thought he convinced you to order the pasta).

🍷🍝📷💋

After supper you leave in the drizzle, and he takes your arm and loops it through his. His arm is so warm, and you end up leaning your head against the beginning of his shoulder as you stand against the wall, waiting for the driver again.

He turns his head to say something to you, then stares at you for a second. He then leans down to whisper something in your ear and you giggle and then he’s moved to face you properly.

You’re anxiously biting your lip because he’s looking at you like you hang the stars in the sky and you feel terribly awkward and then he leans down and kisses you and he tastes like Parmesan so you laugh in the kiss.

You feel his body shake with laughter beneath your touch and his body is warm even in the drizzle. And when you kiss his lips make your whole body fire up. And his hand is gripping your waist through his mother’s coat and his other hand is running through your slowly dampening hair and he groans and you’re electric.

You pull away when the driver drives up, flushed and awfully happy. His cheeks are pink and his eyes soft.

“Get in the car,” he murmurs softly, and when he opens the door he slides on to the backseat behind you and wraps a hand around your shoulder and everything feels perfect.

back from hibernation. hope you enjoyed!!!!

here’s my masterlist

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic

[pucksandpower]

Your Boss Will Do | Toto Wolff

Summary: your (ex) boyfriend screws you over so you end up screwing his boss and find love in the most unlikely of places

Warnings: infidelity (not between the main pairing), attempted violence, and vague mentions of spice

As you stepped out of the taxi, the heat of the sun embraced your skin and welcomed you to the bustling principality where the Monaco Grand Prix was about to take place. This was supposed to be an exciting weekend with a chance to visit your boyfriend, Lucas, who worked as a mechanic for Mercedes. Little did you know that your world was about to be turned upside down.

You had been together with Lucas for two years, and although there were some ups and downs in your relationship, you believed your love was strong. But as you made your way to the hotel, your heart started to feel a strange unease as if something was amiss. Brushing off the thoughts, you told yourself it was just lingering stress from the long journey.

Finally, you arrived at the luxurious hotel which was already buzzing with team personnel and fans there for the upcoming race. The lobby was a sea of energy and excitement but you just could not shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Still, determined to see Lucas, you tried to ignore the pit in your stomach and made your way up to his room.

As you approached the door, you heard muffled moans and whimpers coming from inside. Confusion and curiosity gripped you. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to knock or just barge in, but ultimately you chose the latter, wanting to surprise him with your early arrival.

What you saw upon entering shattered your heart into a thousand tiny pieces. There, tangled among the bedsheets, were Lucas and a flushed woman you had never seen before. The shock paralyzed you as you took in the scene before you — their disheveled clothes, the guilty expressions on their faces, and the unmistakable sense of betrayal that hung heavy in the air.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stumbled backward. Lucas and the woman quickly separated, faces pale as they realized they had been caught in the act. You turned on your heels, running out of the room, heart pounding in your chest as a tidal wave of more emotions than you could pinpoint flooded your entire being.

With nowhere to go, you found yourself seated at the hotel bar, seeking solace in a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid swirled as you nursed your broken heart, thoughts consumed by the image of Lucas and that woman now imprinted in your brain.

Lost in your despair, you failed to notice the man who had quietly taken a seat next to you. His presence disrupted your thoughts, and you turned to face the tall, distinguished gentleman in a white button down with serious brown eyes and a calm yet intense demeanor. You immediately recognized him from the Formula 1 broadcast on your television screen.

“Seems like you could use a friend,” Toto said, his voice smooth and comforting. “Mind if I join you?”

You nodded, appreciating the unexpected company. Toto ordered a drink and leaned back, his eyes studying you curiously. “I couldn't help but notice the sadness in your eyes. Care to share?”

As the tears threatened to spill over, you found yourself pouring your heart out to someone who was a stranger in all but name. You told him about Lucas, the love you had shared, and the devastating betrayal you had just witnessed. The longer you spoke, the more your voice trembled with pain.

Toto listened attentively, his gaze never leaving your face. When you finished, he reached out and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped your eye. “I'm truly sorry for what you are going through. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

With a heavy sigh, you confessed, “I don't even have a place to stay now. I was supposed to stay with Lucas but I can't bear to be near him.”

Toto's eyes softened with empathy. “You can stay with me. My villa is not too far from here. It's the least I can do to offer you some comfort.”

Surprised by his generous offer, you hesitated. “I don't want to impose.”

“You are not imposing at all,” Toto assured. “Please, let me take care of you.”

A mix of trepidation and desire coiled within you, weaving a web of temptation. In that moment of vulnerability, you made a choice to embrace the unknown and surrender to the passion that beckoned. Nodding in silent agreement, you allowed Toto to guide you away from the bar, leaving behind the splintered shards of your past.

In Toto’s private sanctuary, a world of decadence and desire unfolded before you. The opulent villa, with its dimly lit rooms and plush furnishings, became a playground for stolen moments and hidden pleasures. Each touch, each kiss, ignited a fire that consumed you both — a flame that burned away the remnants of heartbreak, leaving only an insatiable hunger for each other.

Amidst tousled Egyptian cotton sheets and whispered promises, you discovered the intoxicating power of surrender in a dance of passion and vulnerability that left you breathless. Toto explored the contours of your body with reverence, awakening desires you had long forgotten. In his arms, you found redemption, his touch mending the broken fragments of your soul, as overwhelming pleasure mingled with bittersweet memories of the past.

Days turned into nights and nights into a blur of fervid moments and languid mornings. Toto spoiled you with adoration, showering you with gestures that whispered of his devotion. He painted your world with colors that had only existed in dreams before him — the symphony of his kisses, the tender caress of his fingertips, and the way his voice melted into yours during whispered confessions of early love.

Race weekends came and went and your connection with Toto grew stronger with each passing moment. He showed you a different world filled with respect, kindness, and unconditional love. His home became yours as well — a sanctuary where you could heal and rediscover yourself.

Toto’s touch was gentle yet electric, sending shivers down your spine whenever his fingers brushed against your skin. His lips were soft and warm, his kisses both tender and passionate. With each intimate encounter, the tension between you heightened, adding an exhilarating edge to your blossoming relationship.

You were swept up in a whirlwind of romance. Between heated embraces and whispered pleas, Toto convinced you to join along for his travels and soon you were exploring countless cities together, walking hand in hand through the vibrant streets, indulging in exquisite cuisine, and immersing yourselves in the local culture. Toto was a fascinating companion, his stories painting vivid pictures in your mind and his presence making you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before.

As neither you nor Toto had any desire to keep your relationship hidden, Lucas was in for a rude awakening. Consumed by anger and jealousy, he confronted you one afternoon outside the Mercedes garage, spit flying with his bitter words. “So this is what you've been doing while I was working, huh? Sleeping with my boss? I hope you're happy. Keep opening your legs to anyone with some money in the bank!”

His words stung but you refused to let his cruelty break you. Standing tall, you looked him in the eye, your voice steady. “I may have ended up in Toto's arms but I was driven there because you broke my heart into a million pieces. I deserve better than the lies and betrayal you offered me. But in the end I should thank you, because you ultimately led me to the best thing that has even been mine.”

Lucas’ face twisted with rage but before he could respond, Toto emerged from the garage, his presence as commanding and solid as always. “I suggest you leave, Lucas. Your behavior is unacceptable and I will not tolerate it in my team or in my personal life.”

Lucas’ mouth opened and closed but no words came out. His anger turned to defeat as he stormed off, leaving you standing there with Toto by your side. The relief of having Toto’s support washed over you and you clung to him as your knees threatened to buckle, knowing that you had made the right choice in leaving Lucas behind.

From that day forward, Toto spoiled you with love and affection even more than before. He showed you what a true partnership based on trust, respect, and shared dreams should be. He supported your aspirations and encouraged you to pursue your own passions, all while cherishing every moment you spent together.

You stood by Toto’s side, attending races and witnessing the triumphs and challenges that came with the sport firsthand. The fiery passion between you never waned but it was no longer the sole foundation of your relationship. It had evolved into a deep emotional connection — a bond that transcended just physical desire.

You found yourself becoming a familiar face in the paddock and the lively Mercedes garage. The once-foreign territory transformed into a second home filled with friendly smiles and warm greetings from the team. Toto took pride in having you next to him and he delighted in showing you off to everyone watching.

With each race, you became more absorbed into the world of Formula 1. The team welcomed you with open arms, eager to share their knowledge and stories. You listened attentively, absorbing the intricacies of the sport and the dedication that fueled each member. Similarly, they admired your resilience and how you had overcome heartache to find love and happiness again.

The paddock buzzed with whispers and speculation as news of your relationship with Toto spread like wildfire. Some saw it as a scandalous affair while others admired the power couple that had emerged from the ashes of betrayal.

Lucas was unable to escape the reality of your newfound connection. The sight of you and Toto, locked in an embrace or sharing hungry glances gnawed at him like a festering wound. The anger within him grew, fueled by jealousy and entitlement. He resented the fact that you had moved on and found happiness in the arms of his boss.

One fateful day as the sun beamed down on the paddock, Lucas approached you, his face contorted in anger. “So this is what it’s come to,” he sneered, words dripping with venom. “You've officially traded me in for a richer model.”

You remained tall, refusing to cower as he wrongfully projected the blame onto you. “It was never about power or wealth. Toto has shown me what true love and respect look like. He cherishes me in a way you never did and never could.”

Lucas’ rage flared and he lunged forward with misguided fury. “I won't let him have you! You're mine. I won't stand by while he takes you away.”

But before he could reach you, Toto wedged himself between you and Lucas, a protective pillar of strength. “You will not touch her,” Toto pushed your ex-boyfriend back. “Your possessiveness and anger have no place here. Y/N does not belong to you or anyone for that matter. She is free to choose who to love and she has chosen me. If you cannot respect our relationship, I will have no choice but to take further action.”

The ugly expression never left Lucas’ face but he must have recognized the futility of his actions. Toto was nearly a head taller than him and at the top of both the Mercedes and Formula 1 food chain. With one final glare, he turned and disappeared into the crowd of people as his bravado crumbled.

Toto drew you into his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from the remnants of your past. His touch, once filled with merely desire, now possessed a deep set tenderness — a promise that he would always defend and cherish you.

As the season continued, Toto’s devotion to you only deepened. He spoiled you with grand gestures and intimate moments — helicopter rides over breathtaking landscapes, candlelit dinners under the stars, and stolen kisses in the hustle of the garages. He reveled in pampering you, eager to show you what a true partnership built on mutual respect and trust should be like.

It was in the moments away from the track, in the refuge of your private lives, that your relationship truly flourished. Toto was your confidant, your champion, and your partner. His love letters adorned your nightstand, his whispers of adoration reverberated through your dreams, and his touch ignited a passion that transcended feasible thought. In his arms, you discovered the depth of intimacy and connection, where pleasure melded with profound emotion and left you breathless and yearning for more. In the midst of the chaos and adrenaline, Toto became your anchor, grounding you in a love that surpassed all expectations. You navigated the twists and turns of the sport and of life together and faced the triumphs and setbacks hand in hand. The love you shared with Toto was a force that defied all doubts and insecurities, reminding you that you were worthy of happiness and bliss.

While celebrating a victorious race, you relished in the second family that had adopted you. Laughter filled the air as the team exchanged stories and you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging.

As the conversation shifted to humorous anecdotes, Toto leaned in and whispered in your ear, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Remember the first time we met at the hotel bar? I never would have imagined that sitting next to a beautiful woman nursing her whiskey would lead to all of this.”

You chuckled and playfully nudged him. “Well I suppose we have Lucas to thank for introducing us in his own twisted way.”

Toto raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yes, he was quite the unusual matchmaker. I doubt he expected me to take such an interest in his ex-girlfriend.”

A burst of laughter escaped your lips and you shook your head. “I'm sure he regrets it now.”

Just then, Lewis joined the conversation. He flashed a grin at both of you. "So is it true that Toto stole your heart faster than our car can drive a lap?"

You exchanged a playful glance with Toto before replying. “Let's just say Toto knows how to handle more than just the team.”

Toto shrugged teasingly. “What can I say? I have a magic touch both on and off the track.”

The group erupted into hoots and hollers and, reveling in the well-meaning cheers, you realized that despite the initial heartbreak and turmoil, life had brought you to a place where love and joy prospered. You couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turns that had led you to where you were meant to be.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff blurb #f1 fluff #f1 x y/n #f1 blurb #toto wolff x y/n #f1 one shot #f1 fandom #formula 1 #formula one #f1blr

[nayziiz]

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1

As the new F1 season begins, a wave of anticipation and excitement envelops both Natalie and Lando. For Lando, the racetrack is not just a place to showcase his driving prowess; it's a canvas where he paints his aspirations of success. The aspiration to perform consistently, stand atop the podium, and clinch victories symbolises his hunger for glory. This season represents a pivotal moment in his career, a chance to transcend from promising talent to a formidable force in Formula 1.

Lando's focus on consistent performance indicates a strategic approach to the season. He understands the importance of not just individual brilliance but also the need for a sustained effort across races. The podium is not merely a physical platform; it's a symbol of accomplishment and recognition. Standing there signifies that Lando has not only met but exceeded expectations. Each race becomes an opportunity for him to etch his name in the history of McLaren and Formula 1.

Meanwhile, for Natalie, the new season brings its own set of challenges and goals. Her role as Lando's PR Manager is not just about managing media interactions and public relations; it's about crafting and enhancing Lando's image both on and off the track. The challenge lies in maintaining a delicate balance between showcasing Lando's personality and ensuring a positive public perception.

However, Natalie's ambitions reach beyond the immediate season. She envisions herself as more than just a PR Manager; her goal is to ascend to the position of managing the entire McLaren F1 team. This aspiration reflects not only her confidence in her abilities but also her commitment to the long-term success of the team. Solidifying her role with Lando is a stepping stone toward greater responsibilities within the McLaren organisation.

“I haven’t seen Lucas around. Is he still coming to watch the race?” Lando innocently asks Natalie as they sit in his driver’s room with Lando signing caps and other McLaren merchandise.

“I doubt it.” Natalie responds, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh. How come?” Lando asks, confused.

“We broke up.” Natalie informs him as she hands him the next batch of caps to sign.

“When did that happen? He didn’t mention anything to me.” Lando continues to pry.

“After Christmas.” Natalie bluntly answers.

Lando's signature hand pauses mid-air as he processes Natalie's revelation. The room, once filled with the mechanical hum of the race cars outside, now echoes with the weight of unexpected news. His innocent inquiry unravels a personal chapter that Natalie had kept tightly closed for months.

The dynamics between Lando and Lucas had always been a delicate balance, their interactions shaped by a shared connection with Natalie. While Lando and Lucas managed to find common ground and form a semblance of friendship, the undercurrent of tension remained, fueled by Lando's observations of how Lucas treated Natalie during her first season with McLaren the year prior.

Natalie had been the bridge between the two, her professional role demanding a level of collaboration between her boyfriend and the driver she worked with. Lando, appreciating the importance of maintaining a harmonious team atmosphere, tried to put aside his personal reservations for the sake of professionalism. However, it wasn't easy for him to look past Lucas's treatment of Natalie.

Lando, inherently protective of those close to him, struggled to like Lucas when he witnessed moments of disrespect or insensitivity toward Natalie. It wasn't just about professional courtesy; it was a matter of personal values. Lando valued the people around him, especially those who supported him in various capacities, and seeing someone mistreat Natalie sparked a sense of loyalty and concern.

In those moments, Lando found himself grappling with the conflict between friendship and principle. While he maintained a civil demeanour and tried to foster a positive atmosphere with Lucas, there were times when he couldn't suppress his disapproval of Lucas's behaviour. The struggle to balance his personal feelings with the need for a cohesive team dynamic presented an ongoing challenge for Lando.

Natalie, caught in the middle, appreciated Lando's support but also urged him to prioritise the professional environment. She understood the complexities of the situation and attempted to keep the personal and professional spheres separate. However, the tension lingered, adding an additional layer of complexity to the dynamics within the McLaren team.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.” Lando says, the tone of his voice now tinged with concern. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awkwardness settling in the room. The merchandise, once a simple part of race day preparations, now carries an unexpected emotional weight.

Natalie maintains her focus on the merchandise, her eyes fixed on the caps as she avoids direct eye contact with Lando. The revelation casts a subtle shadow over the room, and she is determined to carry on with their professional tasks, steering clear of the personal. Lando, however, can't let it go

“After Christmas? Why didn't you tell me?” Lando asks, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on his face.

“Honestly, I was just trying to keep my head above water.” Natalie confesses, her eyes revealing a mix of vulnerability and resilience. She takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "Remember, we dated before I moved to the UK. We lived together, so I had to get my own place and move all my stuff."

Lucas, her high school sweetheart, had been her anchor for six years. Their journey had taken them from South Africa to the UK, where Natalie pursued her studies and Lucas secured a job opportunity in London. He was more than just a partner; he represented home, stability, and a significant chapter of her life.

Despite the duration of their relationship and the shared history, Natalie found herself in a place of grief. The breakup marked the end of a long-standing connection, and the process of disentangling their lives proved to be a challenging and emotional endeavour. Lucas had been her constant, her support system, even if it came at a cost.

Lucas's treatment toward Natalie painted a stark contrast to the nostalgia that might have lingered in her heart. The emotional toll of being screamed at, called names, and enduring his disdain for her job added a layer of complexity to the grieving process. Despite the toxicity, the familiarity of their history made it difficult for Natalie to sever those emotional ties completely.

Lando, now privy to the depths of Natalie's experience, feels a surge of empathy and concern. He realises that her grief wasn't solely about the end of a romantic relationship but also the dismantling of a life she had built with someone who, at one point, had been her everything.

Lucas merely befriended Lando with ulterior motives as to ensure nothing would ever foster emotionally between Lando and Natalie because of their close working relationship. Lando, who had tried to maintain a friendship despite his reservations about Lucas's treatment of Natalie, now grapples with a newfound understanding of the underlying dynamics.

“You should have told me, then I could have helped you.” Lando mumbles, his eyes convey a mixture of regret and genuine concern .

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda, huh?” Natalie, ever resilient, responds with a subtle smile.

“Nattie, seriously. Are you OK?” Lando genuinely asks, his voice reflecting a sincerity that transcends their professional relationship.

“I’m better now.” Natalie assures him, her small smile carrying a hint of gratitude.

The acknowledgment of Lando's concern created a bridge between them, a reminder that beyond the race strategies and public relations duties, they were individuals navigating the complexities of life.

Lando's soft spot for Natalie had been evident from the very beginning, stretching back to her first day at the McLaren Technology Centre over a year ago. There was something about her kindness, dedication, and unwavering support that resonated with him. As they travelled the globe together for races, a bond formed, rooted in mutual respect and trust.

The introduction to Lucas after the first race of the previous season brought about a different dynamic. Lando, despite his efforts to maintain harmony, couldn't comprehend the connection between Natalie and Lucas. They seemed like polar opposites, and Lucas's penchant for criticising Natalie's work only deepened Lando's reservations.

Despite his disapproval, Lando tried to bridge the gap by inviting Lucas out, attempting to understand the dynamics of their relationship. However, in those moments, he couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie deserved better. Lucas's possessive and objectifying attitude towards Natalie grated on Lando's sensibilities, making him acutely aware of the stark difference in how they viewed and treated her.

Lando grappled with the discomfort of witnessing someone he considered a friend be treated in such a way. The distaste for Lucas's disrespectful remarks and possessive demeanour fueled an internal conflict, as Lando navigated the fine line between maintaining professional courtesy and expressing his concern for Natalie.

Despite his observations, Lando refrained from explicitly sharing his thoughts with Natalie. He respected her independence and knew she was capable of making her own decisions. Yet, he held onto the hope that she would see Lucas for who he truly was - and she finally did. The news of Natalie ending things with Lucas brought a sense of relief to Lando. He felt genuinely happy for her, recognizing that she could now move forward with her life unburdened by a toxic relationship.

“Anyway, enough about me” Natalie states, her tone lightening. “Did a special lady pop up since I last saw you?”

“Nope. Still just me, myself, and I.” Lando chuckles in response, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“The fans are going to have a field day knowing you're still single.” Natalie playfully adds.

“I'm happy to be single until I find someone who ticks all the boxes.” Lando, unbothered, responds with a confident grin.

Lando reassuringly squeezes Natalie’s shoulder before he hurries off to speak with his race engineer. Natalie takes a seat behind the screens and pops on a headset as she watches replays of qualifying the day before. The ambient sounds of the garage, a mix of distant engine roars and muffled conversations, create a dynamic backdrop to the focused atmosphere.

With the headset snugly in place, Natalie's attention sharpens on the screens in front of her. The glow illuminates her face as she immerses herself in the detailed analysis of the team's performance during the qualifying session. The occasional chatter over the headset and the intermittent sounds of tools and equipment being handled blend into a rhythmic symphony, underscoring the team's preparation for the imminent race.

- AFTER THE RACE -

“Congratulations, Lando, on a great race today. What does this mean for the rest of the season?” The enthusiastic interviewer asks Lando.

“Appreciate it. Big shoutout to the McLaren crew for their grind during the winter break, putting together a solid car. We're still getting the hang of the new machine, but snagging second and fourth at the season kick-off is a promising start. Looking forward to unleashing this beast on the other tracks.” Lando explains, sweat dripping down his brow from the hot race he had just completed.

“You seemed to have a busy winter break. What, or who, do you think helped get you into a positive mindset coming into this season?” The interviewer continues.

“Honestly, just spending time with my family and friends was a great reminder to remain humble and appreciate the small moments in life. I lost my granddad over the winter break, so that kind of put things into perspective for me.” Lando answers, wiping away the sweat with a towel.

“And, no lucky lady to celebrate your P2 tonight?” The interviewer chuckles.

Natalie's gaze lifts to the interviewer, registering the conspicuous absence of sympathy in their response to Lando's revelation. The weight of the loss he had shared seemed to hang in the air, untouched by the expected words of condolence or empathy. Unsettled by the apparent oversight, Natalie decides to intervene, steering the conversation in a more considerate direction.

“That’s all we have time for, thank you.” Natalie declares - her tone firm - as she guides Lando away from the glaring cameras and back into the welcoming confines of the hospitality building. Lando, still processing the insensitive turn of the interview, quickened his pace to keep up with Natalie through the hallways. “Absolutely crass.”

“What’s that?” Lando questions, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“I sometimes forget how classless the media can be. Seriously, you disclose the fact that you lost your grandfather and she makes no effort to express her sympathy.” Natalie explains, her voice tinged with a blend of disappointment and protective concern for her driver.

The weight of recent events hung heavy on Natalie's heart as she made the journey to the UK to attend Lando's grandfather's funeral. Mere days after her breakup with Lucas, her own heartbreak was set aside as she prioritised being there for Lando and offering support to him and his grieving family. The bond with Lando's family had grown strong since she joined McLaren, with invitations to holiday events making her feel like an extended member of their close-knit circle.

Lando's family had always gone above and beyond to include her in their gatherings. The previous Easter weekend, when she couldn't travel back to South Africa to be with her own family, they had made her feel welcomed and loved. These gestures had forged a sense of belonging, making Lando's family an integral part of her life.

Sitting in the back of the church during the funeral, Natalie observed the waves of grief that swept over Lando and his family. Tears and sobs echoed in the sombre atmosphere as they mourned the loss of their beloved family member. Natalie, despite her own struggles and heartache, focused on providing the support that Lando and his family needed during this difficult time.

It was precisely the depth of this loss that left Natalie annoyed by the subsequent interviewer's callousness. The media had no idea how profoundly the death had rocked Lando's family, and their lack of empathy struck a nerve with Natalie. The disconnect between the public facade and the private grief was a stark reminder of the challenges faced by individuals in the public eye, and Natalie, protective of those she cared about, found herself grappling with a mix of emotions as she navigated the intricate tapestry of personal and professional relationships within the McLaren family.

“Hey, it’s OK.” Lando offers, attempting to console Natalie. “Like I said to her, it puts things in a different perspective.”

Natalie glances at Lando over her shoulder, and a sense of relief washes over her. His calm demeanour and understanding response reassure her. He doesn't seem upset by the insensitive question or the lack of empathy from the interviewer, giving Natalie a cue to let go of her annoyance. Natalie takes a deep breath, appreciating the support from Lando and the acknowledgment that some things are beyond their control.

- THAT NIGHT -

“It’s been a stellar start to the year and we’re looking forward to seeing where Lando and Oscar take McLaren this year. Here’s to a brilliant season.” Zak Brown declares with a smile as he raises his champagne flute for a toast at the McLaren start-of-the-season dinner.

The long table is filled with the McLaren team, a diverse group ranging from mechanics to engineers to marketing officials. Zak's words resonate, creating a moment of shared excitement and anticipation for the upcoming season. After the toast, the team engages in lively conversation and indulges in the dinner spread.

Seated between the two drivers, Natalie finds herself immersed in a discussion about a specific corner at the Bahrain Grand Prix, a topic that unites the trio. Lando, with a casual ease, rests his arm on the back of Natalie's chair as he leans over to chat with Oscar. Natalie, sitting back, feels a sense of relaxation and peace. It's a stark contrast to the weeks of turmoil since her relationship ended. In the midst of her team, surrounded by people who share her passion for racing, Natalie rediscovers a familiar sense of joy and camaraderie.

“It was smooth. I don’t think I’ve taken that corner that well before.” Lando adds with a grin as he engages in conversation with his teammate.

Their camaraderie, evolving from being teammates to friends, is evident in their banter. The second season together has brought about a deeper understanding, and the shared experiences on the track have solidified their connection.

“Compared to DNFing last year, this was by far one of my favourite races yet.” Oscar comments, his enthusiasm evident in his words. However, before the conversation can delve deeper, he gets distracted by someone to his left, leaving the statement hanging in the air.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Lando observes, his light nudge to Natalie's ribs coaxing a small smile from her.

“Just taking everything in. I missed this.” She explains, her gaze wandering across the lively scene around them.

“I suppose it helps not having someone constantly messaging you to find out what you’re doing.” Lando comments before realising the weight of his words.

“There is that too.” Natalie agrees, her chuckle carrying a hint of relief.

“I know it must be difficult, but I’m just glad you’ll be able to enjoy your life without feeling guilty.” Lando tells her, his eyes meeting hers. With a subtle gesture, he removes his arm from the back of her chair, proceeding to savour his dessert.

He had found her crying in the paddock one too many times last season to not be relieved about her leaving Lucas. Lando had been an inadvertent witness to the toll their relationship was taking on Natalie's mental health and self-esteem. He had seen the tears, heard the phone calls, and been privy to the distressing text messages. It was evident that the relationship had become a source of emotional strain and turmoil for her.

For Lando, seeing Natalie break free from the shackles of that tumultuous relationship was a cause for genuine happiness. He knew she deserved to live her life peacefully and without the heavy burden of regrets. The bond they shared within the McLaren family went beyond the racetrack; it extended into the realm of personal well-being. Lando, having witnessed Natalie's struggles, felt a profound sense of relief knowing that she could now move forward and find the tranquillity and happiness she deserved.

“And, for what it’s worth, you seem happier.” Lando adds, his genuine concern and care evident as he spoons a mouthful of Tiramisu into his mouth.

Natalie smiles in response, savouring a bite of her lemon cheesecake. The bond between her and Lando had been instantaneous when she started working for McLaren. Circumstances dictated their closeness as they spent more time together than with their own friends or family. Lando's visits home to his parents often included Natalie, who had no family or friends in the UK or Monaco until Lucas moved to the UK.

A shift occurred when Lucas moved to London, becoming a more constant presence in Natalie's life. She moved in with him, and the dynamic with Lando changed. Lucas's insecurity cast a shadow over her friendship with Lando, even though it was an integral part of her professional responsibilities to be by his side at races and media appearances. The relationship became stifling, with Lucas questioning Natalie's every move and decision. Lando, recognizing the toxicity of the situation, did his best to support Natalie and mitigate the escalating tensions.

“My parents are going to be in Jeddah next weekend. They’ve been dying to see you.” Lando tells Natalie.

“I’ve missed them so much.” Natalie admits with a genuine smile, the warmth of her emotions evident. “And, your sisters, of course.”

“They’re coming as well.” Lando adds, causing her smile to grow even bigger. The anticipation of reuniting with familiar faces, especially those who have become a second family to her, adds an extra layer of joy to the upcoming weekend.

As Lando and Natalie stepped out of the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted them, providing a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dinner venue. The decision to walk back to the hotel seemed like a natural extension of the camaraderie they shared, and the short distance only added to the appeal.

The city's evening lights painted a picturesque scene around them as they strolled along the illuminated streets. The ambient sounds of the city, a harmonious blend of distant traffic hums and the occasional laughter from nearby cafes, created a tranquil backdrop for their conversation.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” Lando bluntly asks her.

“What do you mean?” Natalie asks, confused.

“What made you finally break up with him?” He clarifies.

“It was a series of things that happened leading up to Christmas. We obviously went home to celebrate Christmas with our families back home. I got him this stunning watch he had been raving over for months, gave it to him and he was so uninterested in it. I mean, I get it, tastes fade, but I spent quite a bit of money on it and he was so unappreciative of it. And, he literally gifted me a notebook set that he must have bought the day before, no thought whatsoever.” Natalie starts. “Then as we got back to the guesthouse after dinner, he started complaining that I spent all day on my phone and demanded to see who I was texting. So, I gave him my phone and, honestly, I still don’t quite know what he saw, but he threw my phone against the wall and it broke, obviously.”

“So, he was getting physically aggressive?” Lando asks.

“Very much. When I asked him why he threw my phone, he went on this tirade about how he knew I was cheating on him, blah, blah, blah, and before I knew it, I was shoved into a door. Bruised my arm pretty badly. And, that was it. I don’t think I ever felt that disgusted in my life. I took my stuff, drove back to my Mom’s and booked a flight back. Luckily I had a spare phone. And, when I got back to London, I started packing my stuff and then you let me know about your granddad, then I was on my way to you.” Natalie elaborates.

“I had no idea things got so out of hand.” Lando mutters as they continue to stroll at a leisurely pace towards the hotel.

“I should have ended things far sooner looking back.” Natalie comments as she shoves her hands into her jacket’s pockets.

The two continue to walk in silence, the weight of Natalie's revelation hanging in the air. Deep down, Lando's blood boils with a mixture of anger and frustration. The idea that Natalie had endured such emotional and physical trauma at the hands of someone who claimed to love her fills him with a sense of indignation.

As they navigate the quiet streets, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps is punctuated by the heavy thoughts that occupy their minds. Lando, usually so composed, finds himself grappling with the harsh reality of Natalie's experiences.

“Just know that I’m here no matter what. If he even tries to contact you or anything, you let me know.” Lando blurts out.

“Thank you.” Natalie shyly agrees as he pulls her under his arm.

In that moment, their protectiveness for each other takes on a new level. The unspoken understanding between them solidifies into a spoken promise of support and vigilance. Lando's words carry a weight of sincerity, a commitment to stand by Natalie's side through whatever challenges may arise.

Their bond, forged through shared experiences and a genuine friendship, becomes a fortress against the trials of life. They have each other's backs, ready to go to battle if it means preserving the other’s sanity. The unyielding loyalty they share is a testament to the strength of their connection.

They make a formidable team, and in each other's company, they find solace, strength, and a profound understanding that transcends the confines of their roles within McLaren.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x oc

[misanocircuit]

a mashup of lil Italian MotoGP riders' interviews 🥹 (Marco Bezzecchi, Pecco Bagnaia, Enea Bastianini, Fabio Di Giannantonio, Luca Marini, Celestino Vietti & Tony Arbolino)

Bez: "[the race] went really well, I've raced with an inferior bike which was prepared by Fabiano and I have to say that he's a genius because it has been a really nice race, I've managed to gain some advantage from the third rider and... It went well."

"My name's Bezzecchi Marco, BM bike, BZM engine, I thank Robert for the engine, my team and all my friends, especially Eddy, Pippo, Salvo, uhm... I thanks Loris and everyone else."

Pecco: "[I'm Francesco] Bagnaia, I race with the RMU [bike] in the RMU team, I'm quite happy about the race because at the first turn I was first, I've stayed in the front until the sixth lap, then I got overtaken firstly by Andrea Caravella then by Stefano Valtulini and they have been good too! I'd like to thank my team, Alessandro Rozzi and my parents."

"I am Francesco Bagnaia, I race with the RMU in the RMU team, I thank all of my mechanics, Alessandro Rozzi and then... I wish good to all the mothers for mother's day!"

Bestia: "I am Enea Bastianini on Honda, the race went... Race 1 went quite well and [makes the face of "boh" (meaning I don't know what to say) lol] the tyres slipped a bit at the beginning but then everything went smoothly and... I've tried to catch [Alex] Marzocchi but then I gave in a bit and I've fineshed 3rd..."

"My name's Enea Bastianini, I'm from Rimini, the race went quite well, I had fun, I had a great battle with Stefano Manzi... I race with the RMU bike and I thank all of my mechanics, my sponsors..."

Diggia: "Hello, I'm Fabio Di Giannantonio, ZPF bike, ZPF engine, I've finshed in second place, I did a great race: I started that I was second and I stayed calm and I've finished second. I thank everybody in the team and all of my family."

"Hello, I'm Fabio Di Giannantonio, Honda bike, the race went quite well: the first one because I had a great race, I had fun but I had a contact with [Nicolò] Castellini and I fell... And I ended up eighth; instead the second race went quite well, I'm here in second place, and I wanted to thank my dad who's making some incredible efforts to let me race."

Maro: "I'm Luca Marini, on RMU [bike]; the race went really well, I managed to start immediately perfectly from Pole Position and from the first turn on I got away from the others and, after I've reached a certain gap, I managed the race and it went really good."

Celin: "[the race from] the European Championship has been beautiful because I managed to beat everyone... Quite... Uhm, because I managed to win, getting away from everyone and it has been really nice; here, instead... It has also been easy but maybe there were tougher opponents."

"So, I started quite good in both the starts but then there was my teammate who was there behind me trying to overtake me, but I hold on until the very end and I made it! I wanted to greet... to thank Polini, my dad and my brother who's at home."

Tony: "My name's Tony Arbolino, the race went amazingly, I was third and I started very good, uhm... I was waiting for the mistake of the two in front of me, who were battling it out, and they both fell and I went to win the race!"

"We're here with the winner of the rookie's category." - "My name's Tony Arbolino, I am part of the Moto Club Pa- Pasini... [doesn't know what to say]... ZPF bike... [still has no clue of what to say]... I got two wins in the Italian Championship... and I thank my mechanic Ugo and my dad!"

#motogp #marco bezzecchi #bez #mb72 #pecco bagnaia #pecco #enea bastianini #eb23 #fabio di giannantonio #diggia #luca marini #maro #celestino vietti #celin #tony arbolino #nostalgia #motorsports #mini bike

[ladykailitha]

Steddie AU thought of the day.

A kind of like Gran Turismo, the movie based real life events. Basically it's about this guy that is so good at the video game Gran Turismo that with a bunch others like him get the chance to drive the cars for real.

The Scoops Troupe as they are affectionately called at NASCAR is the best pit crew in the business. They are the most sought after pit crew, with Steve Harrington as pit boss. Robin Buckley is his right hand with Erica Sinclair and Dustin Henderson rounding out the crew.

Dustin is the big brain of the operation while Erica is a legacy pit as both her dad and brother have worked in the pits of NASCAR for years. Lucas currently at a rival team.

Enter Eddie Munson. A man that had spent his youth and the majority of his college days in the arcade playing Gran Turismo. He had gotten so good at it he started getting sponsorships for gaming tournaments. This allowed him to buy his own machine and play professionally.

For a stunt in the off season, ten of the top players get assigned to pit crews.

Eddie who is the best of the best gets assigned to the Scoops Troupe. And Steve and Eddie clash hard. Steve resents being shackled to this arrogant nerd and Eddie hates the meathead jock who is his pit boss. He knows the Harrington name. Knows Steve comes from money.

What he doesn't know that Steve used to be a driver. But he crashed in his rookie season, which why the game doesn't have him in it. His dad disowned him when he decided to be mechanic instead because if he had had a good pit instead on built on nepotism Steve wouldn't have crashed. He still has the burn scars on his back.

It all comes to a head when the owners use Eddie and Steve's beef as reason to sack him to put Tommy in his place.

But Eddie gets the other game players to stage a walk out. They all line their cars up on the starting line and then exit their cars, leaving them idling as Eddie tells everyone what happened to Steve and that him and the other players won't get in their cars until Steve is brought back.

The owners last until the first commercial break. Steve is brought back and the race goes on without a hitch.

Eddie and Steve's relationship improves and when Eddie wins the cup, he kisses Steve.

And when Eddie is brought back as a regular driver in the on season, Steve is his crew boss.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

[toni-peperoni]

I am begging you to share more of your mechanic alex vision

Okay so: We know that Alex actually wanted to be a mechanic for Marc rather than a rider himself, but Marc pushed him to at least try.

And Alex subbed in in Moto3 for the first time in 2012 and then did the entire season of 2013 and for this we have to pretend it didn't go as well as it actually did, so he decided to stop, focus on school and pursue his dream of becoming a mechanic.

I'm not very familiar (at all) with the Spanish school system, but it would probably mean, he'd finish school in 2014 and after that find a university to study remotely at. Finishing the school in Spain had meant almost a year of barely seeing his brother and that just wasn't something either could or would choose (love my codependent babes), but it would also lead to Alex being a little less dependent, because he knows basic life can work without Marc there, though for Marc basic life was racing and Alex was still present at every European race if possible.

The public would of course know Alex as Marc's brother and very rarely bring up that he used to race too, but they would know them more in the way Carola is known as Pecco's sister rather than Luca is known as Vale's brother, if that makes sense?

He'd start his apprenticeship at a racing team shortly there after, spending his first year learning with the Moto3 bikes, but his talents didn't go unnoticed, so he was moved up to learn about the difference of the 250cm³ and 765cm³ engines.

He finished his apprenticeship there in 2017 having made some appearances in the Repsol Honda factory already, seeing as he also needs to learn about the 1000cm³ bikes after all. That meant he had lots of experience with racing and working under pressure already and without hesitation, he was signed as one of Marc's mechanics at the beginning of the 2018 season.

They won two championships together and Marc knew no matter what, no matter how shit something went, he could always return to the garage and have his brother's support no matter how often he crashed, how much pain the bike caused him, his brother was there in and out of the garage.

There's two ways to go from here:

1. They became even more codependent and Marc leaving Honda was like a slap to the face for both of them.

2. They drifted apart a bit always aware, that they could rely on eachother for everything and have someone to talk to no matter, but Marc learned through seeing his brother work through the night on the bike, that he wasn't doing it only for Marc, but also for his love of bikes and Alex learned, that no matter how hard he tried, how much he wanted it, he couldn't always make his brother happy.

Either way, there were long discussions held and many tears fell, while Marc thought about whether he should leave or not.

In the end Marc left and Alex stayed. Why? Because he basically had only worked with Hondas for his entire life, there was no set up, no aero, no engine, he knew as well as the Honda. He lived for that bike.

While Marc's crew chief switched over to the other side of the box, now working with Joan, Alex stayed on his side of the garage and started to work with the new guy. Luca.

He knew Luca, of course he did, well at least by name and from the few stories Marc had told, when he and Vale were still okay.

He had even raced against Luca, one single race in 2013, when Alex did his one and only podium in Misano in the Moto3, Luca had subbed in for an injured rider.

But it wasn't Alex to bring that info to the table. It was actually Luca, who after Alex had introduced himself with the rest of the crew had told him that little fact. Alex would have forgotten about it.

That was the first encounter Alex had with Luca's very observant nature, leading to him noticing the smallest details about people's habits and making positive remarks about those.

Away from the track Luca was kind, gentle and always in for a laugh, but on the track, he was just as fierce as everyone else. Despite the Honda being... well the bike that it currently is, he never once tried to blame his mechanics, rather giving feedback about the bike, than telling them in a condescending voice how shit it was. That would have been very understandable and Alex had been rarely actually mad, when riders had done that, he understood the emotions and knew that most riders would come around to apologize later, because it had been a heat of the moment thing.

They were working very close together, going over data until late at night, because Luca was as determined to make that bike work again as Alex was. So it became natural to them to spend time together and they were starting to become friends and eventually more...

#motogp #lucalex #lm10 #am73 #askkk #toni writes

[im-not-batman]

ummmmm, Ronance cars AU??? (I am so intrigued)

This one is so silly i love it! It's exactly what it says on the tin. I havent got anything coherent written for it but i have bullet points and lots of notes. So here you go! I apologise in advance, i write these usually when im high or jacked up on inspiration so theyre always a bit chaotic lmao

Crack treated dead seriously - based on art by @logicallyserial (i think their art is steddie though, and i coopted it for ronance purposes)

~Robin is a famous F1/Nascar/Stock racer who is driving cross country because she wanted to drive her super fancy car instead of getting a plane. She is speeding and then her tyre pops on a stone or something and she loses control of the car crashing into smthn and is stranded in Radiator Springs (Hawkins).

~Steve is Mater and fixes the car up

~Dustin has to be there like, legally , but idfk who he'd beeeee

~Joyce is Doc because bad bitch etc etc

~Hop is the Sheriff (sidenote are there Doc Hudson x Sherriff shippers out there??)

~Nancy is Sally obv - she runs the motel in town with her family but Nancy is the one usually working. Things play out like in the animated masterpiece Cars (2003), Nancy convinces Joyce that Robin should pay to fix the road or at least do some community service. She ends up thirsting over sweaty road worker robin because lbr who wouldnt.

~ stobin bonding moments! (Is cow tipping a thing people actually do?? Ask Crispy) steve teaches robin to drive backwards like in the animated masterpiece Cars (2003)

~Robin's big race is against Henry/vecna/one – who is all gross and sexist about her being the first woman since the sport became co-ed – and Eddie who is an ex champion, is super lobely but wants to retire because he's racking up injuries.

~Will is Ramon

~I guess that makes Mike Flo even though I will NOt write Byler

~Argyle is obviously the stoner Camper so Jon is the Army guy?

~ Lucas is Luigi!!! Max is the forklift guy I canny remember his name!!!! Gordo??

~EL IS RED EL IS RED EL IS RED

~ In the end everyone comes to Robin's big race à la the animated masterpiece Cars (2003) and Robin makes her base camp Hawkins for the rest of her career, she and Nancy fall in LOOoooOove etc etc

(mayhaps some circumstantial steddie towards the end. Robin tells Eddie that Hawkins is a pretty cute town to retire in if you ignore most of it lol. Eddie is intrigued and visits, meets hot mechanic steve)

Send me an ask with which of my WIPs from This Post you wanna hear about!

#stranger things #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #cars au #cars 2006 #roo answers

[sirfrogsworth]

I made an obscure joke about British electrical systems in cars that only people familiar with vintage Lotus, Jaguars, Triumphs, etc would probably get.

So, probably no one that follows me.

And I'm just giggling all alone to myself.

My dad had one customer with a Lotus and he almost told him to take it somewhere else.

Growing up around American mechanics obsessed with muscle cars it was important to roast foreign cars. A rite of passage, if you will.

To my dad's disappointment, I still had a Lamborghini Countach and a Ferrari Testarossa on my wall.

I did end up appreciating Corvettes and Camaros when I got older. Mainly because I was able to actually ride in them. The noise is like a hundred bears growling at you from every direction. Which is super neat in small doses. Though I don't know how my brother drives around like that all the time.

My dad also had a customer with a white De Tomaso Pantera. But I don't think he ever got to work on that.

We got to "visit" the car. But the owner rarely drove it so I remember being a little kid and just kinda staring at it—wondering why it was a big deal. My dad would just say, "It's really expensive so don't touch."

Our former next-door neighbor had a Super Stock drag racing car that he built himself. That was like 10,000 bears growling at you from every direction. It was basically as fast as the Tesla Plaid without the whole "street legal" thing going for it. I got to sit in it a bunch of times with the engine revving. But it could only be driven on the drag strip. Oh, and you had to get into the car through the window like the Duke boys.

And my favorite car experience was when I rode in a 1980s Porsche 911. A friend of my uncle owned it and gave all of us kids a ride. He drove me around on some very hilly and dark backroads. Looking back, it probably would have been safer during the daytime. I'm pretty sure the speed limit was 25 and we were going above 80. I was used to cars that only went fast in a straight line. So when he took a curve at a million miles an hour and I was pinned to the door, it felt more like a roller coaster than a car ride. That thing stuck to the road like it had duct tape for wheels.

What was I talking about?

And that's why Lucas Electric caused so many British cars to have sucky wiring.

Or something.

The End

[hawkinsgirlnextdoor]

okay but imagine dming a girls-only dnd campaign with Nancy, Robin, El, Max, and Erica

The D&D scene in Hawkins has always been kind of barren. A boys club if you will. Of course there was always the party and the Hellfire Club but you were always looking for a space where you could feel more comfortable playing with other girls. 

When things become more stable in Hawkins you acquired a solid group of female friends. Nancy and Robin are your age, and while you definitely spend time with the boys, you’ve started to hang out just the three of you. 

El and Max are younger than you but you always enjoy their company. You serve as a kind of older sister figure to the party and the two of them kind of look up to you. 

You’ve only recently started hanging around Erica but you like her a lot and once she gets in to D&D you two start to bond. 

It’s actually Erica’s idea to start the campaign in the first place. 

All of the girls are coming in with different levels of experience. 

Nancy has observed D&D through Mike for a good chunk of her life and has occasionally participated so she knows the basic mechanics and other random facts about the game. 

Robin has never touched a 20 sided die in her life. The people that she’s hung out with before the summer of 85 were never the type to play D&D and she barley knew it existed before the whole Satanic Panic thing started to sweep Hawkins. 

Max has always been a bit put off by D&D. At first it was something that was used to exclude her from the group and once she became friends with the party she would be insecure that she wasn’t as good at it as the boys were. Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Will had been playing forever and she feels like she doesn’t fit in.

When you pitch the idea to her you assure her that the majority of the participants are starting from square one and there's nothing to be worried about. That persuades her to give it a shot. 

El is just happy to be doing something with other girls. Of course she’s friends with Max but she longs for more female company. She also knows a little about D&D due to how much Mike has tried to explain it to her. 

Once Robin is introduced to D&D and learns the rules she’s super psyched about playing and creating her character. She also rolls her dice really weird (big Ally Beardsley ala Fantasy High energy). 

Robin is obsessed with languages so she quickly tries to learn Elvish and uses it during role play. Her experience in drama also leads her to commit especially hard (sometimes too much lol). 

As for classes and races: Robin plays as a teifling bard, Erica as a half-elf rouge, Max as a tabaxi barbarian (my first instinct was also rouge but Lady Applejack is already a rouge so gahhh), El as a half-elf mage, and Nancy as an elven duel class cleric and fighter.

Nancy is the resident note taker and jots down every detail, stat, and piece of inventory. 

She also probably unravels all of your planning with her great detective work. Like you’ll spend ten hours crafting a mystery that's supposed to be revealed in the very last session and she cracks it by the third.

Erica spends hours hand painting minis for each character. The detail is astounding.

"Did you paint a tiny star in her eye?" "I'm thorough."

El is that player who cannot do basic addition for the life of her (aka me). Max always has her back though.

"I rolled an eighteen. Eighteen plus seven is ....." "Twenty five." "Thank you."

El is also proficient in animal handling and constantly adopts wildly dangerous creatures to be her pets.

You might think that Erica is a head-straight-into-battle kind of player due to the absolute powerhouse that is Lady Applejack but she's actually incredibly tactical. Her and Nancy tend to alternate as party leader.

Max and Robin on the other hand are the kind of players who crave chaos.

You: "The villager seems to know something about the creature that lives in the woods. You can see however that he's apprehensive to answer any of your questions."

Max: "This guy is totally shady." Robin: "Yeah you're right ... we should punch him." Max: "Oh my god you're so right. If I roll a nat 20 can a tooth fly out?"

As a DM you are very attentive to your players. You craft scenarios for each girl to shine and show their growth as a player. You also make little dice boxes and customize. You make their favorite treats and have them in the middle of the table every session.

You notice they all seem to be getting closer and more comfortable with the game which warms your heart.

Sessions are hosted on Friday nights and usually conclude with movies, pizza, and sleeping over someone's house based on the availability of their living room.

Each girl also gets to make her own mixtape to play during sessions. The vibes of which are all over the place. Joan Jett, Pat Benatar, Kate Bush, Tiffany, Blondie. The works.

The environment of the campaign is so comfortable. Yes you're putting their characters through horrible danger and mental gymnastics but its out of love <3.

Your players are amazing. You feel so lucky that you're able to share something you love with the girls in your life and make it your own.

By the time you're nearing the end of your campaign Dustin and Lucas are begging to get in on the action for the next one, only to be disappointed when Robin slams the door in their faces clarifying that this party is "Ladies Only!".

#stranger things headcanons #robin buckley #robin buckley headcanons #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler headcanons #erica sinclair #erica sinclair headcanons #el hopper #el hopper headcanons #max mayfield #max mayfield headcanons #stranger things x reader #self insert #just girly things #i love my girls #stranger things #rebel robin

[trashmouth-richie]

TWIN FLAMES 🔥 6

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5

PART 7 PART 8 PART 9

summary: damage is assessed, an explanation is given, words unsaid are finally said.

warnings: MINORS: DNI (18+ only) -mentions of violence, mentions of drug & alcohol abuse, mentions of blood, trauma, ptsd, catatonic. Etc

<w.c> 4.8k (6/??)

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader, mechanic!eddie

A/N: this chapter is kinda heavy, it took longer than I anticipated to write, the top image is from the 1986 film, “Stand By Me” if you’ve never seen it I highly recommend it it’s both hilarious and sad.

Ps. We finally made it to the 4th of July in this fic. 🫠 the slowest of burns and I’m sorrrrrryyyyyy 😅

———————————————————————————

Hearing someone talking but not knowing where it’s coming from you imagine you’re floating as you feel yourself being lifted.

“Shit! Is she okay? Eddie! What the hell happened?! Let’s take them upstairs to clean up! Robin! You and Lucas take Steve to the bathroom down here and clean him up! Mike and I are taking Eddie and Y/N.” You aren’t sure who is speaking, only catching bits and pieces of it as you slide in and out of consciousness.

You feel yourself being carried up the steps in someone’s arms, the smell of blood thick in your nose as you open your eyes a sliver and see Eddie. Tears and blood are racing down his chin onto his Hellfire shirt. You look up to his face and touch it lightly with your fingers. Eddie looks down at you and sobs rake through his body as he sees your eyes are open.

“D-Dustin! She’s awake! Oh my God, I’m so sorry baby, I’m so so sorry!” He’s kissing your head as he carries you into your bedroom and heads towards the bathroom.

Eddie lays you gently on the big counter, Mike places a pillow under your head and Eddie sits next to your head as he sits on the closed toilet.

Dustin starts to look over Eddie’s cuts and nose, Eddie pushes him away, “not me! Her! Help her!” he yells as blood pools out of his mouth onto the floor.

Mike throws Eddie a towel and tells him to hold it to his mouth. Dustin looks over to you and goes beneath the sink finding a first aid kit and some tweezers. Cleaning the tweezers with some rubbing alcohol, Dustin sets everything up getting ready to take the glass out of your face.

“Alright Y/N, this is gonna suck, no fucking doubt about it, so just try to lay still and don’t move, Eddie.. come hold her hand or something so she doesn’t move.” Eddie gets up and slides next to Dustin holding your hand as tears still run down his face.

“It’ll be over soon sweetheart,” Eddie says, kissing your knuckles. “I promise.”

“Okay,” you say with a sleepy smile.

You close your eyes listening to Dustin and Eddie talk. “What hit her, Eddie? Actually, start from the beginning.. What the hell happened?! I thought she was dating Steve? How do you know her?!”

Eddie goes into a long winded speech about how you two met at Johnson’s barn party and really hit it off, how you told him you had a boyfriend and everything about the weird magnetic connection you both felt. And how he felt like he had known you his entire life and how familiar you were to him and the same for you. He explains how you had broken up with Steve the next day and how you two have been together since.

Dustin listens intently to Eddie as he picks more and more pieces of glass from your face. Eddie moves to the sink and grabs some hydrogen peroxide, dumping some into a small Dixie cup he puts it in his mouth, swishing harshly. After a long minute Eddie spits, a fountain of crimson spewing from his lips. Wincing, he bares his teeth in the mirror but thankfully none are chipped or broken, just a large cut running along the inside of his cheek, and his bottom lip is split.

“Well that explains why Steve has been acting fucking insane” Mike chirps in.

Opening your eyes slightly, you look at Mike and ask, “what do you mean?”

Mike shifts his weight from one bony leg to another, “I mean, since Saturday afternoon Steve has been acting, I don’t know, unhinged? He called all of us asking to go to Indianapolis because you two had broken up, but I already had plans with El for the weekend and Dustin was helping Susie’s family move in, and Lucas was with Max. So when none of us could hangout he went to see Billy and has been hanging around him all weekend. None of us had seen him until today when he called Dustin and sounded fucking plowed. We all went to check on him and he was snorting something and was piss drunk. He said he was driving to come and see you and we stole my mom's car, picked up Robin and flew here trying to follow him before he killed himself.”

“Special K,” Eddie says, palms pressed into his eyes. “That’s what Billy uses, it’s a downer so it wouldn’t have this kind of effect…I only know because he once kicked my ass because I refused to sell it to him, and because I don’t carry it. Rick did and some of the other dealers that Billy goes to have said that he mixes it with cocaine and snorts it all at once.”

“So if Steve was doing cocaine, special k and drinking vodka how messed up would he be?” Dustin asks.

Motioning to your face and his, Eddie all but shouts, “I mean look at us Dustin! That’s how fucked up he would be. Attacking his ex-girlfriend, smashing a fucking vodka bottle against her head. We tried to get him to calm down and leave but he was crazy!” Eddie slides onto the floor, grief over taking his body, “and I couldn’t s-stop him, I tackled him and he just wouldn’t stop. I don't know what would have happened to her if you guys hadn’t shown up. It’s my fault, I should have gotten him to leave. ” he finishes, his eyes blinking away tears.

“Eddie, no,” you say gently lifting yourself to sit on the counter, “this isn’t your fault, you didn’t force Steve to do drugs or become an alcoholic overnight. And you— you're not the one who broke up with him over the phone either.” You hang your head low accepting that this truly was your fault. Steve going off the deep end, Eddie’s bloody face, it was all your fault. You practically egged Steve on by saying Eddie was a better lover. A loud cry emerges from your chest as your body starts shaking. Eddie reaches his arms out to you, pulls you onto his lap on the floor, shushing you as he rocks you slowly side to side, one hand in your hair and the other on your back.

Dustin is walking back and forth in your bathroom looking like a broken toy glitching out. “TWIN FLAMES!”

“What?” Mike and Eddie say at the same time.

“Eddie and Y/N are twin flames! Also referred to as a Quantum Entanglement. It’s a Quantum Mechanic Theory that explains if two particles meet and vibrate and are separated no matter the distance it could be galaxies or universes, no matter the length of time they will come back to each other. And that connection is unbreakable. It defies any sort of logic and nobody can explain why it happens but it does! Have you guys tried to figure out if you've had similar things happen to you?”

Your head lifts off Eddie's shoulder and you look him in the eye. In unison you say, “drowning”. You go into detail about how you both almost drowned when you were kids. And how you have similar birthmarks on the inside of your elbows.

“See! See! Twin Flames!” Dustin yells, throwing his hands in the air. “It explains the magnetic connection and the thoughts of knowing each other on a solar level. When they meet it’s hard to be separated again. This actually explains so much, it makes sense why Y/N would dump Steve.”

“Yeah yeah you’re right Dustin!” Mike begins, “I saw Y/N and Steve at that party on Friday, they were happy! And Y/N would have never known Eddie before that because she lives here in Bridgeport and Steve doesn’t play D&D. And Eddie would never be at a pep rally or a basketball game. So she would have never bumped into him!”

You are still staring intently into Eddie’s eyes and he into yours. “It makes sense,” he whispers to you, “I told you I heard a voice in my head to go into the barn that night and then when I found you, it was like my soul was reuniting with itself, like I was meant to be there at that night, at that time to reconnect with you.”

Tears well in your eyes from both exhaustion and the explanation of your very intense feelings for a guy you had just met 48 hours ago. You kiss Eddie gently being careful of his split lip and his swollen nose.

“So what do we do from here?” You ask, “what do we do with Steve?”

Dustin and Mike both rub the backs of their necks, Dustin speaking first, “we’re going to go see how he’s doing, he’s obviously messed up but we all know Steve. He wouldn’t have done this sober or even if he was just drunk, it’s nobody’s fault. It’s just a shitty situation. But we all need to move on from it, I mean for Christ sake it’s Steve! He nicknamed himself ‘The Babysitter’!”

Eddie sits up a little straighter and adjusts you on his lap. Sitting on his leg both facing the boys, Eddie speaks, “I agree, he wouldn’t have done that sober or drunk. And I feel bad for him, special k is nothing to mess with. He probably doesn’t even know or remember what happened, depending on how much he took and what was mixed with it.” He shakes his head and rubs your back, “I will stop by Steve’s house tomorrow and talk to him and have him describe to me the shit he was on so I can help him get off of it, but for right now, I need to take care of my girl.”

Mike and Dustin fist bump Eddie and make their way out of the bathroom. You can’t believe the events that had taken place tonight.

With the younger boys gone from the bathroom, Eddie helps you stand and pulls himself off the floor, he starts a bath for you and helps you undress, lowering you into the tub and making sure you were comfortable, Eddie begins cleaning up the bathroom, spraying down the sink with a bottle of Clorox he found under the sink, he scrubs the blood down the drain, gently picking up any leftover pieces of glass on the floor and tossing them into the trash. If there was one thing Eddie knew it was that trauma could be triggered by anything. And this was definitely something traumatic that you nor him wouldn’t be able to forget anytime soon. He hurriedly went to your dresser and got you some clean pajamas.

Coming back into the bathroom, Eddie sees you sitting in the tub catatonically. You aren’t responding to him at all. He’s waving his hands in your face and shouting your name, but you aren’t hearing him, your mind frozen, stunned, shaken watching on replay as Steve pummels Eddie in front of you. The blood from Eddie’s face flying all over the living room. The sweet stank of roses being trampled and the petals squished into the carpet underneath multiple pairs of shoes.

How did this happen? Weren’t you just laying on the couch with Eddie watching Stand By Me? Didn’t you just come back from meeting Eddie’s uncle Wayne? And having sex in the shop with Eddie? You can smell the syrup from your pancake breakfast. You can feel the rough material of the life jackets on your legs and the taste of pineapple on pizza. You can feel the tiredness between your eyes as you answer the phone at 4 o’clock in the morning, and you can definitely feel the electrifying kiss a long haired metalhead gave you in the back of his van.

All the happiness you had felt the last 48 hours were laid out in front of you like a deck of cards. Like a viewfinder begging to be clicked through to find the next series of beautiful images. But you couldn’t move your hands to go to the next picture. You were stuck, staring at the damage caused by tonight’s events. It was your fault, you broke up with Steve and caused him to spiral out of control. You had Eddie stay the night with you causing him to get hurt. The blood was on your hands, the havoc seeping through your skin, etching its way across your mind. You couldn’t fathom what happened to Eddie. His sweet face, bloody and cut. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve someone who could only cause him more pain. How could he ever look at you the same after you let this happen to him?!

A faint voice is heard somewhere beyond the realm of your current state of mind. It’s calling out to you like a parent calling a child home for dinner. It’s beautiful, purring into your ear, but also tinged with desperation. Like a rainbow in the dark, a storm still blazing on, but the rainbow starts creeping through, ever so slightly to remind you it’s there. To remind you to constantly look for the positive in any situation. You reach out for it. Getting closer to it you can hear the voice more and more. The voice is sobbing, you reach out to comfort it. A warm sensation growing inside your chest, like a flame licking at oxygen begging for more. The voice is becoming clear. It’s coaxing you out beckoning you to come back with it. Your senses are returning to you slowly. You’re wet, chest deep in a pool of water. Your eyes ache from being open and one is very heavy. Vision previously failed, now fuzzy outlines of your surroundings flood back to your eyesight. The voice is even more frantic, and it’s finally clear that it’s Eddie calling to you. You felt the water shift beside you and the sudden feeling of your body being submerged under, a hand ring covered hand clutching tightly to your nose and covering your mouth.

****

“Come back to me baby, please! Please! Come back to me!” Tears are rolling down Eddie’s face stinging the cut on his lip as he tries to shake you awake out of your stupor your eyes are still staring wide open, “DUSTIN! ROBIN!! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!”

Desperately thinking of whatever would wake you from this state of numbness, he jumps into the tub with his clothes still on. Water sloshing all over the floor, Eddie gets behind you and clamps one of his hands over your mouth, the other plugging your nose. He leans his body back, takes a deep breath and slides under water with you on top of him.

Opening your eyes you feel Eddie’s hands on you, feel his arms wrapped around you as you are brought upwards towards the surface of water. Gasping for air you turn around to see Eddie’s face, his eyes are bloodshot and he looks terrified, he takes a deep breath and kisses your cheek, tears falling from his eyes. Relief washing over him.

The sudden noise of feet on linoleum is heard galloping towards the tub. Eddie yells for them to wait, he clampers out of the tub and grabs as many towels as he can.

“Eddie, I’m so—I’m so sorr—” you choke out through wet sobs.

Eddie helps you out of the tub and dries you off, “shh baby it’s okay, look at me! This isn’t your fault! Okay? It’s not. Your. Fault. I’m okay, and you will be okay too, I’m just glad you’re still here with me,” he holds you tightly and kisses the top of your head, “let’s get you dressed and I’m going to change and then we can talk to Dustin, okay? Come here sweetheart.”

Eddie’s clothes are soaked. You help him get undressed and go to the bedroom to grab his bag, wringing out his clothes the best you can. You throw them over the shower wall allowing them to dry before throwing them into the dryer. With both you and Eddie dry; Robin, Dustin, Mike and Lucas make their way to your bedroom.

Eddie holds you in his arms similar to the way you were in the tub. Him leaning back on your pillows and you sitting ahead of him leaning close and snuggling into his neck, careful to avoid the right side of your face.

Robin and Lucas start talking first saying that Steve is passed out in Karen Wheeler’s car and that they will be taking him home and they will both be staying with him overnight.

“Is he going to be alright?” Eddie asks, rubbing your shoulders and lacing his fingers with yours.

Robin wipes a tear from her long lashes, “he doesn’t remember anything that happened, so it’s hard to say.. I know you wanted to go over and see him tomorrow but maybe it’s best if Y/N goes instead.”

Eddie lets out a sigh and looks down at you, his whole world in his hands. As calmly as he can he says, “No! Absolutely not! You can’t be serious?! I’m not letting her out of my sight, she’s traumatized by what happened, Robin! You didn’t see her when she was in the tub, she wasn’t even blinking! I don’t want her to be triggered by what happened by seeing him!” Eddie takes a deep breath as you squeeze his hand tightly, “I’m glad Steve doesn’t remember, I only wish we didn’t either.”

“Robin, I’m really sorry but Eddie is right, I can’t see Steve right now. At least not for a while.”

The boys, Robin and Eddie make a game plan to have Dustin and Robin tell Steve tomorrow afternoon what had happened. Mike and Lucas were taking out the trash in both bathrooms and the garbage gathered from the living room. Dustin had wiped everything down in the living room that was smeared with blood. Thankfully the carpet in the living room is maroon so a few swipes of some carpet cleaner made it look new again. All evidence that a tragic accident had happened was erased before you would ever have to see it. Agreeing that everyone should go home and get some rest, Eddie goes downstairs and makes you both some oatmeal and toast, bringing it back up to your bed.

Now that you two are alone you let your guard back down, being with Eddie has made you comfortable since you met him, and that hasn't changed. “This is good, Eddie..thank you for making it,” you say, swirling around brown sugar and milk with the cooked oats. Eddie is watching your every move like a hawk. He has taken maybe two bites making sure you’re eating.

“Eddie, I’m not made of glass I won’t break” you say while taking a bite of toast, trying to make him laugh.

A smile that doesn’t match his eyes, pulls at his lips.

You set your bowl down on your night stand and grab his away from him, setting it next to yours, “baby please, please talk to me.”

Eddie stares down at his socked feet crossed in front of him like a pretzel. He is moving his rings in circles around his fingers. “I couldn’t protect you, y/n. You got hit by a fucking bottle of vodka and I just stood there and watched. What kind of man am I if I can’t even protect my girlfriend? I’m a fucking loser, can’t even graduate high school on time. You don’t want to be with someone like me. And I don’t blame you, I’m nothing! I promised myself I wouldn’t be like my dad but I’m—I’m worse!” He slams the palms of his hands into his eyes letting out a small sob, “I thought you were d-dead. You’d passed out twice and I thought I lost you. And then in the tub you were in a daze or something, I’ve never been more scared in my whole life, and it’s all because I couldn’t stop him. I should have shoved that fucker out of the door before he could even start talking shit. But I didn’t, I just froze.” Eddie’s shoulders began to shake as his crying took over his entire body.

You wiggled your way around to him and held him as he cried. Running your hand through his hair and rubbing his back. After everything you two had been through the last few hours you couldn’t imagine anyone else by your side but Eddie. He made sure Dustin helped you first, he carried you up the steps even though he was bleeding profusely from his mouth and in a lot of pain. He was the most devoted person anyone could ever dream of being.

“Eddie? Please look at me, baby,” you said softly, moving his chin up to look at you. “You’re the most caring person I’ve ever come across. You’re different from anyone I’ve ever met, in the best ways possible. You took Wayne’s truck in to work on it on your day off and told Jimmy to take it out of your wages. You drove all the way here with two pizzas just to surprise me after I got off work, you still asked if Steve was okay and volunteered to help him after he kicked the shit out of us. When Steve said that shit about you I went absolutely feral. Because you’re not at all like you’re dad Eddie, you’re a fucking angel! So please never tell me that I don’t deserve you or say that I don’t want to be with you. That’s so far from the truth it’s not even funny. I’d pick you again and again and again, in every lifetime, I would find you, because I love you, Eddie. I love you so fucking much, you’re it for me. There will never be another for me, only you.

Eddie’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. The tears fall slowly now from his eyes as he smiles widely. “You mean that? You’re not bullshitting me are you?” He says with a sniffle trying to clear his nose.

“Of course I’m not bullshitting you! Eddie, I love you! I love the way your tongue pokes out when you’re trying to concentrate on something, I love how your hair looks in the morning, I love how you care about everyone around you whether they deserve it or not. I love your passion for everything you do, and I love how you take care of me. I love you, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie’s cheeks go pink and he is trying to hide a smile.

“You know you’re the first person who has ever said that to me right? I’ve waited 19 years to hear those 3 words from just one person and it took me going to a party on the hottest fucking night in July so I could sell some drugs to a bunch of over privileged assholes in letterman jackets, to meet the most beautiful, drop dead gorgeous, girl I’ve ever seen, to hear it. And I would wait that long again if I knew you would be the one to say those words to me,” Eddie kisses your lips and moves slightly so he can whisper in your ear, “I love you Y/N, you’re my girl.”

The rest of the night is spent with you and Eddie spoon feeding each other oatmeal and watching Stand By Me. Giggling as Verno looks under the porch for his jar of pennies and crying with Gordie as breaks down in front of Chris about his dad hating him. The previous shitty part of the night erased by the devotion and admittance of love for eachother. The love you and Eddie have for one another is cosmic, and nothing or no one would ever change that.

****

The next morning you wake to the sound of Eddie humming lightly as he gets dressed, he’s wearing a red flannel with the sleeves cut off, black jeans littered with holes and he’s lacing up his boots. An unlit cigarette hangs out of his mouth as he plays air guitar spinning around your room. You let out a cat call whistle and giggle as he jumps out of his skin.

“Christ! Oh hell you scared the shit out of me!” Eddie says clutching his chest, he walks to the side of the bed you’re closest to and sits down, giving you a sweet kiss, “go back to bed baby I’m gonna go get us some breakfast,” he says while twisting your hair around his finger.

“Mmm, what time is it?” You ask rubbing the sleep from your eyes wincing at the swollen one.

Eddie hands you some Tylenol and a glass of water, he runs downstairs and finds an ice pack for your eye and gently helps you rest back on the pillows while placing it on your eye, “it’s around 8, I’ll be right back sweetheart, I ordered some food from the diner out off Mill Rock Rd.. I think? I looked in the phone book for it, do you kind if I borrow your car?”

“Of course not, go ahead.” you say with a smile. “Thanks for doing all of this,” you say gesturing around your body and your room with your hands.

Eddie leans down to kiss you and waves at the door with a smile across his face. The cool compress of the ice to your face and the Tylenol seem to give you small relief to the pain your head is experiencing. You drift back off to sleep lightly and wake to the smell of breakfast mixed with the light smell of smoke and Eddie’s cologne. He’s balancing two containers of food and silverware, a half gallon of chocolate milk and two plastic cups that are clamped tight between his teeth.

You sit up quickly and and reach your arms out to help Eddie. “Let me guess, you’re a one trip while bringing groceries in kind of guy.” you giggle as he smiles and plops down on the bed with you.

“Oh for sure,” he says opening a container of biscuits and gravy and handing it to you, “why make more than one trip if you don’t have to?” He opens the other container and it has hash brown and chicken fried steak with scrambled eggs.

“Again, I didn’t know what you wanted so I got a little variety, eat what you want I will pick around you.” he says, “bon appetit or whatever the saying is” he says with a laugh.

****

After finishing the breakfast and watching Eddie lick the container of biscuits and gravy clean, “what? It’s good!” he says with gravy on his cheeks and chin

Taking any opportunity you can to touch him, you grab his face and lick the gravy off of him, “mm you’re right it is good.” you say with a wink.

“Oooo, you’re being naughty this morning, sweetheart.” Eddie says. He grabs the trash and brings it downstairs. Along with the cups and chocolate milk. You get out bed and make your way to the bathroom, stopping by the mirror to assess your face. The cut which thankfully ended up being a scrape is red and angry, your right eye is catered with small bruise around it and is completely red like you yourself were the patient zero starting the zombie apocalypse. Small cuts on your face are in the beginning stages of healing, scabs trying like hell to form. You reach below the sink and find some neosporin, slathering some generously against the large gash, bandaging it with some gauze. Eddie comes into the bathroom and holds you from behind studying you as a look of bewilderment crumbles your face.

“You will always be the most beautiful girl in the world, baby.” He whispers gently into your ear.

You turn to him and smile. “You’re too good to me, how did I ever get so lucky to have you?” you say. You kiss Eddie slow and taste blood from his split lip. He winces at it as you pull away. “Here,” you say trading places with him. You apply a generous amount of neosporin to his lip. You can see the beginning of bruising aligning the bridge of his nose and under his eyes, you lightly touch it and he winces.

“This isn’t the first time my nose has been broken sweetheart, I’ll get Wayne to shift it back into place later today, no worries,” You nod reassuringly and lean up on your tippy toes to give him a small peck to his nose.

“So, what do you want to do today?” He asks, wrapping his arms around your waist, “we could get some fireworks and set them off at Lover’s Lake. We could lay low and watch corny kid movies. We could pick up Jeff and Gareth and get higher than Willie Nelson. We could paint eachothers nails and make cupcakes. We could fuck like bunnies. Whatever you wanna do baby I will do it.”

“Let’s do it all,” you say with a wicked grin.

———————————————————————————

Thank you for reading ❤️‍🔥

Taglist @boomhauer @b-irock @manda-panda-monium @idkidknemore @munsonficdump @sidthedollface2 @syrennna

Thank you for the ones who have binged the series😘 I see you 👀 and I love it!

#eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson angst #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things #steve harrington #no vecna #eddie munson smut #eddie munson lemon #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson/reader

[velocitysedge-if]

RO’s reaction to mc holding their face and saying “I can hold my whole world in my hands” aHHhhH

OK OKAY OMG LETS DO THIS

Alex "Ace" Walker: Alex, known for his daring and charismatic demeanor, would be momentarily taken aback by MC's unexpected touch. His expressive blue eyes would widen with surprise, and for a split second, the confident facade would crack. He'd feel a rush of emotions, a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability, as he looked into MC's eyes, searching for the meaning behind their words.

With a soft chuckle, he'd attempt to regain his composure, masking his inner turmoil with playful banter. "Well" he'd say, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, "I always knew you had a way with words. But holding the whole world? That's quite the responsibility. Better make sure you don't drop it"

Sofia "Slick" Martínez: Sofia, the strategic and composed driver, would meet MC's touch and words with an enigmatic smile. Her dark eyes would hold a subtle hint of surprise, softened by the sincerity of MC's gesture. She'd appreciate the vulnerability in MC's words, recognizing the depth of feeling behind them.

With a calm and measured tone, she'd respond, "You always manage to surprise me."

Max "Nitro" Nguyen: Max, known for his boundless enthusiasm and energy, would react surprisingly quiet. His eyes would widen in surprise, but the warmth of MC's hands on his face would bring an appreciative smile to his lips. It's a side of MC he hasn't seen before, and it intrigues him. His usually energetic would be softened by the unexpected intimacy. He'd place his hands gently on MC's wrists, locking eyes with them, and say, "You've got my world right here, too, MC." A moment of unspoken understanding would pass between them, and the race ahead would take on new dimensions.

Isabella "Izzy" Williams: Izzy, the level-headed team principal, would react with a subtle smile that betrayed her appreciation for MC's sentiment. Her experienced eyes would meet MC's with a touch of warmth and understanding. She'd find the vulnerability in MC's words endearing, recognizing the depth of their feelings.

With a gentle nod, she couldn't respond.

Luca Moretti: Luca, the seasoned race engineer, would react with a calm and thoughtful demeanor. His experienced eyes would study MC's expression, recognizing the depth of their sentiment.

With a reassuring pat on MC's shoulder, he'd respond, "MC, you have a way of capturing the essence of things. It's a beautiful sentiment. Just remember, we're all in this together, and we hold each other's worlds in our hands too."

Mia "Pitstop" Reynolds: Mia, the pragmatic and no-nonsense chief mechanic, would react with a raised eyebrow and a hint of bemusement. Her mechanic's hands, used to handling complex machinery, would briefly pause as she processed MC's unexpected touch and words. A wry smile would curve her lips as she quipped, "Well, MC, you've got a firm grip on my attention, that's for sure."

Mia's response would showcase her ability to appreciate the lighter side of life and racing, using humor to navigate the unexpected moments that often arise in the paddock.

Jean-Luc "JL" Dubois: JL, the veteran commentator with a flair for dramatic storytelling, would respond with theatrical enthusiasm. His eyes would twinkle with amusement as he observed the scene, he stared at MC for a minute before finally looking away not sure what to say.

Kieran "Racer" Patel: Kieran, the analytical data analyst, would react with a thoughtful and curious expression. His eyes would light up with a smile, and he'd respond in his characteristic manner, "That is definitely something, MC." he'd say, his tone gentle and appreciative. He'd then proceed to engage MC in a conversation about the significance of such moments in a fast-paced world.

Elena "Velocity" Petrov: Elena, the motorsport journalist, would react with a journalist's curiosity and a hint of playfulness. Her keen eyes would sparkle with intrigue as she observed the scene, and she'd respond with genuine interest, "Well, that's quite the...you've got there, MC." Her voice sounding as if she was entirely shocked.

#f1 themed #interactive story #interactive fiction #author talks #ch: alex #ch: sofia #ch: max #ch: elena #ch: kieran #ch: luca #ch: isabella #ch: mia #ch: jean-luc #interactive novel #interactive game

[waru-chan8]

wait tell me the dirt... why don't you like lucio? and the other team principals

I don't think you need a reason to dislike some people, sometimes you just don't vibe with them. I also tend to ignore team principals because they are just the face of the team and they do and act as they are told/the best way to protect the team's interest. Having said that, I do have a reason to dislike each one of them, even if they seem childish to other people.

Lucio Cecchinello: I just see his face and I want to punch him. It's mostly that when he is interviewed by DAZN Spain, and he told one thing, but like 10 minutes later he and the team were doing the opposite. Also, at the start of the pandemic Crutchlow made some racist comments (something about the pandemic having started because a Chinese wanted to eat a bat or not wanting to shake hands with fans from Asian countries because "they were carrying/spreading COVID" but shaking hands with other fans) and he defended him. I think people started to pull older stuff where Crutchlow had said/done other racist stuff.

Alberto Puig: you see, when I first heard about MotoGP was back in 2003-2005 and back then, Dani and Puig were tight and Puig did everything to protect Dani. I came back in 2020 just to see Dani having retired and Puig having taken over Honda and dragging Dani thought the mud. It was implied that Dani's biggest mistake was to cut ties with Alberto and that's what made Dani big, a legend and a World Champion (in 125cc and 250cc) was Alberto. Also, I don't like him because as Cecchinello, when he tells the journalist something in the middle of a session he then does the opposite. And he always seems mad and wanting to punch someone. Not everything about Puig is bad, he also let Lorenzo retired even if he had 1 more year with Honda, and he has never put pressure on the riders. And when riders have had a bad crash, and they feel like they are not at their best and will be dangerous on track despite being declared fit by the medical team, he let them not take part. He does understand riders and shields them as much as he can, but that doesn't make me like him.

I'm not sure how familiar you are with Boscoscuro and Gelete Nieto. They are Moto2 team principal of the SpeedUp and the Yamaha VR46 MasterCamp team respectively.

Luca Boscoscuro: in the 2020 season, he had Yari Montella and Jorge Navarro as his riders. Montella wasn't delivering the result he wanted, so he replaced him with Fermín Aldeguer. At first, it was said it was due to an injury/give time to recover from an injury after a bad crash, but when Fermín could not replace him, brought back Yari to push him away the next race. Technically, it was a mid-season (? more like the last 1/3) swap. He did the same with Fenati and Alonso, and apparently he had done the same in the past. If that's not enough, he gloats that his current line-up is under a tight contract for 3 years (not sure if it started last year or it's from this season onwards) and Alonso knew for like 2 races before it happened that he had a shot at the Moto2 seat because Fenati could be fired. And now, he is so proud of Alonso and it's shaming Fermín, but in Americas, after Alonso rode with leathers that were too small and caused pain/lost of sensibility on his forearms, he was praising Fermín and called Alonso stupid. Basically I don't like 2 face people, I prefer them to be mean face-to-face than do what he does.

Gelete Nieto: last year one of his riders had a pretty nasty crash and when he was asked the next day about the crash, his first reaction was to talk about the cost and the extensive work the mechanics had to repair the bike. Later he talked about the rider, but I didn't like his first instinct was to talk about the damage the team had instead of the rider. He was a rider, so I thought he would understand and be concerned about another rider. Another point is that he has no voice on whom are the riders on his team, it's all on Yamaha (not even Vale), and he shows preferences and implied that riders coming from Asia take more time and are worse than Spanish riders. He has put Manu on a pedestal, and he refuses to see past it.

Toto Wolff: I won't talk a lot because people have him on a pedestal, but basically the stress he put Bottas with the 1-year contract and the Monaco 2021 pit-stop saying it was Bottas fault for not pitting on the right spot. The poor decision he and the team took in 2021 during the championship fight. Giving Russell the 2nd Merc seat after punching another rider after a crash. Putting his riders in danger with a bouncing car because he refuses to admit he is wrong. The way he talks, uses and manipulates the media and fans... And basically the way fans adore him and excuses him. Talk about this with someone else changing his name to Horner, Steiner or Brown and people will riot.

Okay, this makes me sound like a hater, and that's not me. I also love some team principal like Aspar (and the combo he had with Borsoi and now with Nico Terol), José Angel Gutierrez Boé (BOÉ Team), Aurora Angelucci (not because she is a woman, it's because she is committed to her dream of having an all-female team on MotoGP and working towards it) and Davide Brivio when he was in MotoGP.

#Ask #suzuki-ecstar's tag #Long Post #Rant #MotoGP #Moto2 #Moto3 #1 #Team Princuipal #Anti-Puig #Anti-Cecchinello #Anti-Boscoscuro #Anti-G.Nieto #Anti-Wolff #Jorge Martínez #Jorge Martínez Aspar #Aspar #Gino Borsoi #Nico Terol #José Ángel Gutiérrez Boe #Aurora Angelucci #Davide Brivio

[renchurro]

Your number one Racing Mechanic ! 🔧⚡️

This skin of Luca’s is in like my top 5 ! I love it so much! 😭🤲🏻💕

#luca balsa #identityv #identity v #idv fanart #idv prisoner #idv luca #comfort character #character art #clip studio paint

[soultek]

All She Said Was Faster: A Concept

Author’s Note: I honestly can’t believe it’s taken me this long to post this. I saw Top Gun Maverik nearly a year ago and I was formulating this idea whilst in the cinema but... in true me fashion, I sat on it for a whole year, and am delivering it now! I think the fact I went to a WEC race this year has finally pushed me to polish the edit and post it! 😊

I love Bailey so much she’s actually crossed over into another fic of mine, if you like her, I’ll be happy to post that too!

For those of you new to my ‘concepts’ it’s basically a one scene ‘drabble’ (usually meet-cute) that would be part of a fic I will probably never write the full story of. 

Disclaimer: Obviously apart from Bailey (and Luca) none of the characters are mine. I used an IRL team as her team, but didn’t name any members so no IRL people are involved here.

Warnings: Cat calling... swearing... Jake sometimes might come off as OOC but that’s also kinda the point? I tried to make him walk the line.

Word Count: 5176

Premise: Fighter Jet vs Race Car. An exciting concept - even if the winner seems obvious. And to look at him, Jake would be one to gloat at such a win; but that’s not what he’s running after her for.  On the airfield he’s comfortable... but Bailey wants to know what he’s like once she gets him in her domain... 

--- [Playlist]---

Are you ready for a comeback? Are you ready to fly? Are you ready for the moment? Get ready to ride Shout out to the legends Rising from the wreckage Count down the seconds And start your engines

---

Nights turn into days Days turn into months I was always alone Until you came along Now you've got me singing

I think I like you, maybe more than I should Hurts like heaven and it feels so, feels so You do me better than any other love could Hurts like heaven, and it feels so, feels so good It feels so good

--- [Inspo.] ---

It was hardly worth even parking the car up – she knew she’d lost long before she crossed the line. The jet screaming overhead confirmed it. She might as well drive the car out of the airfield and peace out. That would have been her preference. Only this Lamborghini was hardly road legal, and her team would have had a few words to say to her – none of them particularly glowing…

She walked away from the car without really looking at any of the mechanics rushing over to check it, before they wheeled it into its container for transporting to the factory – luckily, being last year’s model, it wouldn’t be needed next race. Especially with how hard she’d pushed it. Her trainer knew to leave her well alone too, as she continued walking straight down the taxi way. She needed to cool off a little bit.

In her head, Bailey Walker was going through every move and turn she made; did she make the best use of the throttle, every paddle shift up and down – where she’d decided to put her foot down and where she’d lifted… where had she lost time? If she’d have just decided to break a little later here, or not steered so wide there, decided not to drift… or perhaps decided to drift. Who was she really kidding though, it was a fighter jet not another car… No doubt whatever her grievances were, they’d be talked out at a debrief – which she would request; even if not a championship race if she could learn from it, it would be information worth having.

She became aware of someone distantly calling, but she was so in her head at this stage that it took a while for her to figure out it was her name they were calling. “Hey!!! Heeeey!!! Bailey!!! Wait!! Wait, Bailey!!”

As soon as he’d seen her walking away, Jake Seresin knew that he had to chase her down the taxi way. Despite post-flight checks that couldn’t wait, and despite all the aviators and ground team trying to congratulate him on his win… He wasn’t sure if she was going to collect her things and get going, or if she had the intent of staying.

He’d almost caught up to her by the time she turned around, already having stripped her overalls to tie around her waist. She’d left her helmet back in the car – there was too much season left to get frustrated and throw it, but she wasn’t one to hide behind her visor unless she was really upset. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder for a minute, watching the car swarmed with mechanics. She’d taken it more than just a little hard in places - in the set-up shots the camera crew had taken she’d had a lot of smoke and wheel spin off the line too - more than once. What was the point of not putting on a show for the cameras, after all? She winced apologetically at the thought that doing so wouldn’t have been good. Hopefully she hadn’t pushed too hard. Even if this was just a show car, the team were still precious about it; why wouldn’t they be?!

When she focused back on the man who’d been calling her name, she was almost surprised to find it was Jake Seresin. The pilot she’d been hanging out with all day - that she just raced against. Not only that, but he was still in nearly all his flight gear – he’d surely made sure to waste no time. No, Jake was much more bothered about catching her than he was any necessary checks post-race. Bailey stopped, and took half a pace back on one foot, arms folded, defensive. She’d watched this guy all day - he’d got a little too much ego, he was cocky, he was a little too good looking – An All-American Dream – and he knew it. He had every right to be, especially now. Jake was the best in his class - and it more than showed. All Bailey expected was for him to gloat. She wanted to beat him to it - swallowing back disappointment, she spoke as he stopped a few paces from her, “Congr-” “Hey, are you going now? Or are you staying - they said there was catering earlier, but I wondered if your team might need to hit the road…” Her eyebrows raised, and she counted herself surprised, it seemed like a strange angle to start on. She didn’t quite know what to do but answer with a question of her own – and Bailey knew she sounded as bemused as she was. “Are… you staying?” His smile didn’t quite reach cocky, “I asked first.” “Well, I got nowhere to be.” Bailey shrugged before casting her eyes to the sky, cheeks burning, because even if she knew beating him was an impossibility she still hated losing. “That was some nice flying. I wish I saw more of it, but I was trying to focus on the road… you deserved to win. Sounds like when they said you were top of your class, they really did mean it.” When Bailey looked back to him, Jake wasn’t looking at her, even though he was smiling – he didn’t seem the type to get bashful, and yet… - it was a very different kind of smile, “I wish I could have seen more of the car… I guess it’s a little hard, y’know, going vertical. But you were really giving it some. Besides, I’ve not graduated yet, so that might not be true for much longer… you are certified fastest in your team, it shows. That wasn’t a big margin.” It was a compliment. She bowed her head a little - “Thank you. I guess that can’t be bad coming from the fastest pilot either.” “Guess not!” He grinned, then pointed back the way he’d just run, “You wanna… grab something together - I mean, you can eat with your crew I’m not gonna… I mean, I just…” Jake realised he was tripping over his words and Bailey was giving him a look he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But she at least seemed amused by this - waiting for him to string the right words together. She was letting him try. Patient. Instead, he paused and rolled his eyes, “I’m staying. We’ve hung out all day talking about our vehicles of choice. I guess it’d be good to get to know each other a little better.” Bailey smirked to herself before nodding, “Sure. That’s cool with me.”

This was true – they had spent nearly all day together to film this segment – Race Car vs Fighter Jet. Or… whatever it would eventually be called, but that was the entire premise. They’d been introduced first thing this morning as the two competitors – and the two fastest members of their respective ‘teams’. Jake had yet to graduate his Top Gun class, and Bailey was an up-and-comer, competing in an all-women racing team. (At least from a driver point of view). Once it had been explained what they had to do, and establishing shots had been done of both them and their vehicles of profession, the two had been left to their own devices as the crew filmed the more science-based parts of the day with presenters. Where upon Bailey and Jake had made general comparisons between the jet and the car; discussing top speeds, aerodynamics, handling, cornering, 0-to-60-to-over-100 (as if that mattered to a jet, but it was all good fun!) amongst other things…

Sitting here in the catering tent – or, hanger, as that’s what they were using – across from him, trying to talk about himself without coming across as too egotistical (she could tell; though she had a healthy amount of ego herself, as a competitive racer. It was almost a necessity.), Bailey wasn’t sure if she was really interested in him or not. If she had a type, she wouldn’t say the man talking to her now was it. But she wasn’t going to deny Jake Seresin was attractive. That he didn’t make her heart race as fast as her car when they were introduced… she just, wasn’t sure. And Jake? He was talking 100 miles an hour, but he still managed to be collected. But when he kept looking at her to check if she was still hanging on to every word he said, there was a constant look on his face that intrigued her. ‘Do I make him nervous?’ That confused Bailey a little. He didn’t have that type of energy about him. Jake seemed too sure of himself to ever have problems articulating; especially around women. Bailey could bet they usually tripped over themselves for him. But, it was that sort of look - maybe not present in his body language but in his eyes. Maybe it was dread. But he had no reason to fear her, so what?

As they continued to talk, eventually it dawned on her. (And there must have been something between them, given that no one disturbed them the entire time – no one from his team or hers. She expected a debrief, or at least someone to tap her shoulder and say when that would be, yet nothing. They were just left alone to talk.) So what did dawn on her, was that Jake’s look was the fear of her slipping away. The fear of her getting up and leaving – of that person, whoever it would be, eventually stepping in - and that he still wouldn’t have told her everything he wanted to. Of the chance he’d never get to see her again. Bailey knew she couldn’t just voice that though - he’d play it off; more likely Jake would throw it back at her, say she’s the one who can’t resist him. But she knew… he was chasing. It was the reason he ran after her on the taxi way, it was the reason he asked her to stay. Jake already had a crush – whether he would admit it out loud or not.

She should have guessed this from the immediate introduction. He was Jake, and he let her call him that – not by his last name, nor rank. Not by his call sign – even though almost everyone else was doing one or the other. The one time she had decided to ask about it; just in case he wasn’t one to correct her, he’d said “Jake is fine!” with one of those smiles that she was sure had all the girls falling for him.

 There was a natural end to the day though. There had to be. The shooting was wrapped, and the crews were packing up around them as the sun began to sink lower in the sky. It was unfortunate for them both – given the way their discussion had gone there was some kind of chemistry, that was undeniable. Whatever it was – or was going to be. There was a feeling that they both still had something to say.

All sets of teams around them did their best to pack up without having to disturb them until the last possible second, but eventually her trainer, Luca, had to interrupt. “Bailey?” The two of them trailed their conversation off to look at him. “Sorry, the car is probably going to be here to pick you up within the next 10 minutes. You wanna debrief?” “In the car will do, Luca, thank you.” “Alright, I’ll come back when it’s here.” He nodded politely to Jake before leaving them alone once more. Although he didn’t show it on his face, Jake was disappointed – his emotional state slumped a little, but he knew he couldn’t keep her here. He was a charmer, he knew that - he knew how it was to flirt back with the girls that came walking up at The Hard Deck and it was easy. But the woman sitting across from him now didn’t seem to be falling for it - no matter how engaged Bailey was in what he said, there were no hearts in her eyes that meant he could persuade her anywhere…

All he could do was just hope that her interest was at least genuine. That she wasn’t talking to him for the sake of having someone there to talk to – or to be polite for today. Jake shook that off – her whole damn mechanic team was here, she had plenty of people she could choose to talk to and she was spending her time with him. He’d got this!

Still, there was no harm in trying – and there was an urgency now. He had ten minutes before she walked out of his life forever. “So, uh… any chance of getting your number, before you go? I mean, besides the one you race with?” And he winked, with an appropriate laugh. Although it had been peeled off the car for the race (along with the majority of the sponsors, given the video) the 85 was printed on the back of her fireproofs, underneath her last name. Jake’s voice was smooth and included a hopefulness behind it… as much as something vulnerable. Bailey would hate to disappoint him, but that wasn’t something she did. This wasn’t something she ever did. “No…” She leaned on her hand and before his face could fall in more than obvious disappointment he was doing very well not to show – it reached his eyes though, the discomfort with her answer was obvious in that hazel -  Bailey gave another little smirk, this one mysterious, “but you can follow my Instagram.”

Part of her wished she hadn’t, because it immediately put Jake back on that attitude of his. Although, part of her had already decided she liked to see that on him. The feeling nothing could get to him – Bailey had just given him an out, Jake could play it off like she was the one asking for his number, “Oh, okay, alright. It’s like that, huh?” “Yeah.” And it was her turn to playfully wink at him, “pretty much.”

Ten minutes passed in little-to-no time, and it really was time for them to part. By then they were standing by the entry to the hanger. Her car was waiting patiently, her trainer leaning against it shaking his head. But Luca didn’t interrupt, he let Bailey have her time. They parted ways amicably; their handshake quickly turning into a hug. That perhaps lasted a little too long – Bailey wasn’t sure. “Congrats again on your win. You can tell people you beat a real racer – how’s that?” He laughed, “Well, you can tell your friends you nearly beat a Top Gun pilot… but I… I mean I don’t know if that gets you any cred.” “Ah, I got to race a jet, there’s not many racers can say that.” Bailey grinned – despite losing, she had to admit, it had been a fun day. Probably once in a lifetime. “Well, at least I can give you something good to say!” Jake was doing his best to act bashful, but Bailey wasn’t falling for that either. She stepped away from him, with another polite nod of thanks, before offering him one final wave goodbye, and following her trainer to the car. The door being opened the second she started walking showed Luca’s real impatience. Bailey almost looked to the sky in an eyeroll, laughing to herself. He will have followed her by the time she’d left the airfield and she’d be just another girl by the end of the week. Jake looked the type. She didn’t necessarily mind that. (At least, that’s what she was telling herself right now). Bailey wasn’t looking for anything. She had a career of her own, and she had to focus on the race coming up in a few weeks.  Tomorrow she’d be back training on the simulator as if today had never happened. That was how it went. Jake Seresin would be just a guy she raced against once in another video stunt PR and Marketing had got her involved in. And then 1 in a few hundred thousand when he followed her.

Her phone beeped before the car was even off the taxi way and Bailey couldn’t help but laugh. Of course! She should have bet on it.

*** The sunlight glinted obnoxiously off the VIP pass in his hands that he had to flash to security as he walked through the paddock – despite already having scanned in his ticket.

‘What the hell am I even doing here, this is insane!?’ How did he go from sending a hopeful Instagram DM, to being invited out to the US round of the World Endurance Championship. That just so happened to coincide with his next leave period. Heck – maybe Jake Seresin should actually be calling it luck.

Bailey was more responsive to his messages than he expected – especially with him not quite being able to gage her interest in him initially – and they just kept talking. Even when he was sure maybe the conversation had really dried up. Her own thinking had her concluding that if they’d raced on his home turf – at an airfield – then he had to come and see Bailey at her own; a race track. So she didn’t just send him a ticket, but a VIP paddock pass that would get him into the motorhome for her team.

Right now, he probably couldn’t have looked more out of place. Fans excitedly chatting, sporting team and driver gear, some even gathering around drivers for autographs and selfies. Team staff of all types running up and down between the trucks and buildings – shouting incoherently to one another or driving small vehicles containing car parts and other personnel. Journalists and photographers, all looking to get the best new stories and best shots. Jake was just trying to take it all in. With the also obnoxiously bright pink and black pass hanging around his neck – the colours of Bailey’s team; the only all women’s team in the WEC – Jake felt a bit like a fraud. Surely these groups of fans deserved this more than he did? They probably could rattle off a million facts about Bailey Walker that he wouldn’t have known… yet, he was the one talking to her on social media… so… he guessed he had that. The thought had a little smirk appearing on his face as he cleared his throat, relaxing his shoulders back and standing a little taller – exactly, damn right! She’d invited him here!

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Already having let Bailey know he’d arrived; she’d rather enthusiastically replied with a ton of celebratory emojis and that he should let her know when he was in the paddock. Which as he now was, he did exactly that. It wasn’t long before she was typing back, and he found himself staring at instructions for getting to their motorhome. Geez… okay… He studied them carefully, before beginning to walk in the specified direction. Jake was starting to think it might be easier if she just came and collected him herself. Or, at least had someone else do it. He was hoping this wouldn’t end with an embarrassing phone call and him getting lost. It wasn’t just a straight line of teams after all, she had him turning left and right at various points to get to other rows all laid out within the space afforded to them by the circuit. He was passed on all sides by other people in team gear who must have been laughing at him silently inside… Jake had no idea where he was going and he could bet he looked it. Normally he’d brush it off and act confident, but Jake was trying to stare at his phone to make sure he was following what she said to a T, and also staring up at the buildings around to make sure he hadn’t missed it on accident. It was obvious he was new around here at the very least, and that display of confidence from before was waning.

Eventually Jake had to stop moving for fear of getting hopelessly lost. They weren’t directions that hard to follow – but he’d suddenly started second guessing himself. Had he actually turned the right way at all the points she’d listed? What if he hadn’t? What if he was hopelessly lost. Dammit – he didn’t actually want to have to make that phone call! The objective was to walk in there, cool as hell, like he did this all the time! Jake wondered if it was really the pang of nerves in his stomach at seeing her face to face again. Their open, chill DM banter… would it translate once they spoke to each other again? Once they hung out… this weekend for much longer than they had before.

As Jake stared at his phone again, bent closer to the screen, making him look more confused and out of place than he did before, he suddenly heard a whistle from above him, and then voices. “Hot damn – hey, girls look at this!” “Holy shit - wait, is that him?! She was totally right!” “Hey! Good looking, where you going!?” Jake looked up to find himself stared at by three women leaning over a balcony, all in the black-and-pink of Bailey’s team. Though the motorhome itself was white. And the name emblazoned on the side – in neon yellow he might add: ‘IL COVO’ - was not her team name. Way to make him look even more confused. “Uh…” Although he’d be lying if he didn’t say he felt a little flattered to be cat called like this, Jake removed his sunshades, “I’m looking for the Iron Dames motorhome?” “Oh. You’re for us!? Damn, isn’t this our lucky day.” “Well, I-” he laughed, “Bailey Walker invited me.” “Bailey?” One pouted, “Aw c’mon, we can show you a better time than her!” One of the other women immediately turned around, “Bailey - Hey Bailey, your boyfriend is here!” There was some muffled scuffling, and one of the women disappeared, before there was more yelling, “Holy shit, why didn’t you SAY he was so gorgeous!!” Jake couldn’t help but grin a little more, feeling that little ego boost. The next voice echoed faintly, as if it was far away but yelling enough to be heard even from where he was standing, “Oh my god, will you guys shut up! Stop yelling!” “Look, we can’t help that he’s so hot.” “Stop cat calling him – my god can you get any more embarrassing!” The woman who had disappeared before, popped back over, leaning even further out than she was before, “If you get bored with her, hot stuff, we’re always up here.” Before winking, “But this girl has a massive crush on you…” Jake tried not to let that go all the way to his head – he didn’t know if that was the truth or if they were teasing him… or her… or both. “Shut up! Leave him alone!” There was a scrabbling sound and finally Bailey popped up beside them, a little flushed. And he didn’t know if that was from embarrassment or hurrying to get there, “Jake!” her voice was joyful, and she beamed upon seeing him, “Hey! Just come up to the door, you got your pass, right?” He flashed it at her, “Perfect! Yeah, I’ll be right down! Please ignore my team mates!” “Ignore us!? Bailey that’s so rude!” At this point another group of people in overalls – these ones yellow and black, and also on men! – had peered over the side of the motorhome to see what all the fuss was about, and they were all chuckling. Jake couldn’t help but laugh himself as he walked towards the glass front door, finding himself called on again; “Don’t be a stranger!” He grinned up at them as they waved at him, “Don’t worry, I won’t!”

Once inside – as if he hadn’t just been checked outside the door – Jake found himself face to face with what looked like a security guard. If he wasn’t also wearing a suit and standing at a desk that made him look like a Matire D – but the guy was intimidatingly tall. Jake raised an eyebrow approaching the desk. “Ah, hello Sir. I see your pass.” He gestured, “My name is Chris – I look after everyone on the motorhome.” Jake could imagine that look after must entail pretty much everything. Including first – or, second - line of defence. “Before I let you wander around – I better get you checked in, I don’t believe I’ve seen you on here already?” “No, that’s right. I’m Jake, Seresin.” “Seresin… Seresin…” Chris ran down the list of names with his pen – before letting out a laugh he obviously didn’t mean to be audible by how it was cut short and he placed his hand over his mouth. Eyes raising back to Jake, he smiled, “You’re here for Bailey?” “…That’s right.” Jake could imagine the expression on his face was one of surprised concern – should he be worried? What had he let himself in for?! “Sorry – that’s just unusual – if not for her parents! Bailey never gets visitors!” Chris raised his eyebrows and crossed through Jake’s name on the list, before muttering, “Good Luck!” Jake’s face creased in concern, “Uh… thanks?” Before he started walking again, then paused, “Wait, I don’t… have to do this again right?” “Oh no, just flash your pass – I’ve got you all memorised.” No doubt. “Okay… thanks Chris!” By the time Jake started walking on, Bailey had already appeared in the bottom of the motorhome, leaning against a wall draped in ivy. She was wearing a black t-shirt – team branded – and jeans. Obviously not expecting to be out in the car for a while. Bailey raised her hand in greeting and Jake was at least relieved he wouldn’t have to wait around by himself for a while.

“Hey!” “Hey, it’s good to see you again.” He leaned down to her own lean up – such was the height difference – as they hugged, accepting cheek kisses. “Oh-!” Bailey grinned at his greeting, “And you too! It’s nice to speak face to face again, huh Jake?” She nodded behind him to Chris, “Did he tell you good luck!?” “How’d you know?” Jake quirked his eyebrow again, half expecting her to let him know what he’d been warned about. Bailey simply rolled her eyes. “I just said you’d be coming and they’ve been teasing me ever since.”  Then she gaped, suddenly embarrassed, “Oh my god! My team-! I- I’m so sorry! That- they joked so much about doing that all through practice and stuff and I never thought they’d actually go ahead and tease YOU! I’m sorry – I… they’re a great bunch and lovely girls really, I… I’m so sorry!” Jake waved away her apology, knowing she was likely right, “Naw, it’s okay! What’s a little bit of banter huh?” He laughed, “I’ve heard worse from the Navy guys. You’re all good.” “Ah, just wait – they’ll all be thanking you for your service next.” “Aw, stop.” He winked, which made her shove him playfully. “Uh, question…” He pointed behind him, “This is not what I expected.” “That wasn’t a question, but I think I’ve got your wavelength…” She smirked, folding her arms and tracing her eyeline slowly around the room, to which he followed.

The motorhome did indeed look like a miniature home. Light and airy and filled with fake, or maybe some real, plants. Polished authentic wooden surfaces mixed well with the modern glass and steel and stark white. But it still had a homely feel, plush sofas, and tables where some of the team were sat chatting – likely about strategy – the lighting from above wasn’t harsh either, the large windows allowing plenty of natural light. The wall Bailey had been leaning against was deceptive; actually just a dividing boarder to the rest of the building – bar tables pushed up against the wall: upon which hung framed pictures of cars, tracks and podiums, the stairs heading to the top deck (which was clearly something like an outside balcony). The surfaces either were crowded with laptops or coffee machines and fridges for snacks. Jake assumed that catering facilities were in another part that he just couldn’t see. On the wall directly opposite them was mounted a large flatscreen TV – clearly for showing the racing when any was actually happening – and two logos. One for The Iron Dames – in pink and black – and the other for the Iron Lynx – this in yellow and black. Iron Lynx, and the vibrant yellow, was of course what Jake had been met with on the outside.

“So technically we’re part of the Iron Lynx brand – we’re just the all-girls team. The Lynx team are all guys – but you’ll see ‘Iron Lynx’ on our car too.” She smiled, “The more you know!” “Gotcha.” – Although he was sure it’d make more sense when he met the teams and saw the cars going around. Though it did explain the group of male drivers he’d seen on the top deck too. “I’m sure you thought the motorhome would live up to the pink and black! Or at least black and yellow, that would make sense. But no, right now we’re white!” She gave a shrug. Maybe that would change in the future, then. “I see.” She watched him carefully, “Feeling a bit out of your depth?” He didn’t see any point in trying to deflect, Bailey had the intuition and perception of a racer, after all. Really Jake had nowhere to hide, and as he saw it, no reason to. “Just a little…” She smiled, patting him, “Well – you’re at least appropriately dressed.” Jake looked down at himself; jacket, jeans, boots, button up shirt… shades now tucked into the front. The pink kinda clashed with the soft blues, but whatever. He pulled it off. “You’ll get the hang of things. You’ll be a certified expert by the time I’m done with you. And don’t worry – I’ll make sure you’re not harassed… I mean, I did invite you out here to see you…” Her features softened, affectionately, “…and… I – uh – I obviously want you to enjoy the experience.” He smiled, and she knew she’d said exactly the right thing to swell his ego right. Although truth was, she did mean every word. She wanted to see Jake again, because she had some things to figure out. And Bailey knew that the only way to do that now was to have a face-to-face conversation with him. This wasn’t something she could figure out over text anymore – you could only get to know someone so well from that. Bailey wanted to remove that limitation. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I think I’ll enjoy myself.” She laughed, nodding, before she opened her arms back to the room – a small gesture before putting her hands in her pockets. This time when her eyes met his they glinted, full of confidence: “Well, Jake, welcome to my domain.”

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Thank you for reading! 💜💙

#Jake Seresin #jake hangman seresin #Jake Seresin x OC #Its like a YEAR since I saw this in theaters which means this concept has been floating for a YEARRRRRRR!!! #It took me like 0.2 seconds to decide what she was gonna do because I remember that Top Gear thing like it was yesterday #I was like /Sure... she could be the obvious things within this story BUUUUUTTTTTTTT----/ #And now shes a WEC driver with the Iron Dames because all girl team - hell yeaaaah bitches! #So I get to combine all my favourite things! And I'm very happy about it! #Matt Stell lyrics as your title? YES.